Title To Be Determined – Post 3 – Writing Hitsuzen

Reading Time:
18 Minutes

Bruce looked around the conference table in the Batcave, stomach churning. He wished he could do this up in the manor proper, and before they had all exhausted themselves, but it was easier to fold this into a post-patrol debrief than it was to try to get everyone to visit at the same time and have to deal with the various accusations and excuses.

At least tonight had been relatively quiet. No big plots on their radar to investigate, no serious injuries. Just normal patrol and detective work for a few ongoing cases. Quiet enough he’d agreed to showers and changing before debrief and reports.

Thankfully. They needed nights like this to balance the rest of them, and it felt like they got far too few of them compared to the chaos.

Even if it didn’t feel all that calm to him, given the situation with Alfred.

Forcefully, he shoved that thought away. Again.

Alfred was doing as well as could be expected given the circumstances. Better, actually. Well enough that even his more cautious doctors had agreed he was more than able to come home as long as he had help available.

The knowledge didn’t seem to help the way it should, but then, it never did when his family was hurt. And the creeping sense of being small and vulnerable and on the verge of panic whenever his surrogate father was hurt was particularly resistant to reason of any variety.

Kate was leaning back in her chair across from him at the far end of the table, staring up at the cave ceiling as they waited for the last of his children to trickle out of the showers. Tim was already present, working on a laptop and wearing the oversized sweats he tended to favor when he was planning on staying the night. Duke was next to him, wearing pajamas and a blanket that he’d wadded under his cheek where he was using the table as a pillow while he waited for the meeting to start. Damian was across from him, glowering at the dozing teen with his arms crossed. Cass was next to Kate, curled up in the chair and poking at her phone.

Probably playing the Candy Crush variant Stephanie had introduced her to, judging by the movement of her fingers.

Jason had sprawled in the chair across from Tim, helmet and domino off though he was still wearing the rest of his Red Hood gear, clearly intending to leave the second it was over.

Honestly, Bruce was grateful he was there at all. He could have refused and just gotten the info from his siblings later. But he was here, and not being too obnoxious about it for once. Though that was probably more because Bruce had made it clear that most of the meeting would be about getting things set up for Alfred’s release from the hospital before he’d called them all back for the night.

There was the distant echo of conversation before Stephanie and Dick emerged from the locker room, both in sweats and Dick still rubbing a towel over his damp hair.

Jason groaned loudly as Dick flopped into the seat next to him and Stephanie took the one opposite Cass, leaning over her shoulder as she passed to see what she was playing before offering her a grin and a fist bump that Cass returned without looking.

“Finally! Let’s get this over with – some of us have things to do before sunrise you know.”

Tim rolled his eyes, not looking away from his laptop. “You mean sleep?”

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

“Thomas, wake up.” Damian snapped. “You are being disrespectful.”

“I’m awake.” Duke mumbled, waving one hand vaguely. “Jus’ restin’ m’ eyes. I’m day shift, cut me some slack.”

Bruce eyed his newest child, but it did look as though the teen was mostly processing his surroundings. Just doing so in as comfortable a position as he could manage without risking falling out of the chair if he did doze off. And he was present, just like Jason was. Even though Bruce had told him he didn’t have to be and could get the information in the morning.

“He’s fine, Damian,” he decided. “Tim, Cass. What did you find?”

They worked through the debrief – nothing dramatic, nothing notable. Red Robin and Orphan’s investigation had found some clues, but nothing groundbreaking or particularly helpful. Spoiler had picked up a potential lead on a missing suspect for a different case, but it was already cold. The rest of the night had been the usual cocktail of muggings and drug deals, and one runaway persuaded into a halfway shelter with WE funded resources to help them rather than staying hungry on the streets.

As they went through the list, one of the dozens of tight knots in his chest relaxed a little, making it easier to listen. A little easier to advise, rather than order. A little easier to pick his words so that they didn’t get misinterpreted as criticism, rather than observation or suggestion.

A little easier to ignore the fact that there would be no cookies or tea waiting for them in the manor as a reward for an injury free patrol. And no Alfred smiling gently at the chaos that resulted as they all descended on the last cookie of the night.

He’d asked Oracle to add some cookies to the morning delivery as a replacement. It wasn’t the same, but it would have to do, for now.

“Good job everyone,” Bruce said at last, slanting a look at Duke as Damian finished his crisp summary of Robin’s patrol with Nightwing. The teen was not quite asleep, but he was definitely in a light doze. “Now, before we break, I need your attention.”

Duke jerked, clearly having been kicked as he popped off the table, glaring blearily at Damian.

“Hey!”

“If you need sleep so badly, I-“

“Alfred will be released tomorrow.” Bruce interrupted, shooting his youngest a look as Duke sat up and scooted his chair back a little from the table, presumably to get out of reach of Damian’s foot. “And there are some things we need to discuss.”

The table went quiet, only the hum of the electronics, and more distantly, the bats audible.

“Dick and I will be picking him up around noon, assuming nothing goes wrong before then. I’ve arranged for home visits for all his specialists and until Dr. Ayers feels he can move to purely outpatient visits. Oracle has added the schedule to your civilian calendars.”

There was some surreptitious movement as various children fished phones out of pockets or glanced at their neighbors, but no actual comment, which wasn’t really a surprise. Knowing when there were going to be strangers in the manor and where the schedule gaps were was something they all tried to track closely regardless of who the injured party was. That is was Alfred just meant there was going to be less argument.

“He’s going to be in the recovery suite until he can transfer to a wheelchair safely on his own – and no,” Bruce added holding up a hand to quiet the various exclamations of surprise at that statement. “-he is not happy about it, but he agreed that it doesn’t make sense to try to rearrange his rooms to put a medical bed in there when we have the recovery suite already set up.”

The recovery suite wasn’t actually a suite, per se. And most of the time, the family preferred to do any bed rest required for their injuries either in their own rooms or the Batcave – Alfred included. But there were times they’d been injured as civilians badly enough that they needed to be seen by professionals or visitors in the manor, or required extra medical equipment nearby for a while and wanted out of the medbay. Eventually, it had just become easier to set up one of the ground floor guest rooms as a permanent, rudimentary recovery room.

It didn’t get used nearly as often as it should, but having a wheelchair and stretcher accessible room near both the elevators and the main living areas with all the basic home care and emergency equipment they might need already set up was a huge relief when they did. Like now.

“I’ve also arranged for our usual cleaning and gardening services to send someone on a weekly basis. They are also on the schedule, but remember Alfred will not be able to cover for any mistakes or items left out. Cave items need to stay in the cave.”

“Duh,” Jason drawled, rolling his eyes. He wasn’t the only one. “We know all this, old man. What’s the point?”

“The point is that there will be strangers present, Todd.” Damian sniffed. “Judging by the number of times I have seen your items and Drake’s lying around despite no longer residing here clearly shows the reminder is necessary. If futile.”

“Hey! You-“

“What? I don’t-”

“You’re the one who-“

“Boys,” he snapped, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. It didn’t matter that it had been an easy night. Everyone was on edge, and had been since Alfred got hurt. And Damian had been…not backsliding precisely. But he was definitely more prickly than usual, which was not helping.

“Yeah, boys,” Stephanie drawled. “We all do it. Time to pick up and shut up. Move on, Bossman.”

Bruce shot her a look. She grinned defiantly back at him, more teeth than smile.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath in through his nose, then released it with a heavy sigh, opening his eyes again.

“I know everyone wants to help,” he said evenly. “But we need to be organized about this, or it’s going to stress Alfred more than he already is.”

“You’ve got a chore list mapped out, don’t you?” Kate drawled, chin propped on one hand.

He ignored her. That was usually the safer option when his cousin was being sarcastic outside of a case. She at least didn’t get into prank wars over insults.

Usually.

“For the first three days I want at least two people in the manor at all times, in case of emergency. Please take a look at the calendar when we finish, and let Oracle know when you’re able to take a shift.”

“Um,” Duke started, looking vaguely freaked out. “I don’t know it I…”

“You’re exempt, Duke,” he reassured, seeing what the teen was thinking. “You can be backup for whoever stays in, but you need to sleep at night.”

Duke deflated into his blanket in relief. “Okay.”

“Damian, you’re also exempt. I know you’re capable-” he raised his voice as his youngest bristled. “-but legally, you are too young to be left on your own. If they see you in the manor without an adult present the specialists will notice and report us.”

Damian glared at him, face reddening as it twisted into a snarl. “Alfred is an adult. And I am–“

“Cool it, squirt.” Jason interrupted before Bruce could, shooting the boy an unimpressed look. “Alfred’s going to be asleep like, ninety percent of the time. And civilian kids can’t lift grown men or drive them to the hospital in an emergency. He’s right.”

“Having backup is not a bad thing Dami,” Dick chimed in conciliatorily. “No one is saying you can’t do it. It’s just better to have more than one person available, that’s all.”

“I can stay tomorrow night,” Cass spoke up, raising one hand.

“Thank you, Cass.” He smiled at her, feeling the ping of the phone in his pocket as Barbara updated the calendar.

“Uh, why just three days?” Duke frowned, looking at Bruce in confusion. “Are you taking off work?”

“That’s when Dr. Watson gets here.” Tim stated absently, studying his laptop screen. “I think I can move some things to be here for Wednesday afternoon. And maybe Tuesday. Not sure.”

“Wait, what?”

“Who?”

“What the hell?”

The cave rang with echoes as the majority present exclaimed in surprise or confusion.  Bruce grimaced as the noise bounced around the open area and startled some distant bats who had returned early, adding their squeaking to the auditory chaos.

Fffwweeeeeeeeee!

Fwap.

Kate’s shrill whistle cut through the outburst before she slapped a hand on the table. The combination of noises was sharp enough that Bruce winced, and saw that he wasn’t the only one.

“Calm down!” she snapped, glaring around until everyone was quiet again. “Now, someone explain. Dr. Watson?”

“Doctor John Hamish Watson,” Tim elaborated, looking eerily calm – but Bruce could tell it was a façade for his curiosity and excitement. Tim had been a fan of The Science of Deduction website well before the doctor had started his blog so Bruce wasn’t really surprised. “Sherlock Holmes’s partner. Dr. Watson is actually Alfred’s nephew. Sherlock’s undercover right now, so he agreed to come out and help with Alfred and any medical emergencies that we can’t go to the clinic for.”

Kate stared at Tim for a long moment. So did several of his other kids. Then she turned to raise an eyebrow at Bruce. He winced.

“He knows our identities,” he admitted reluctantly. “Since before I took in Dick. I was… badly injured during a mission in London while he was on leave from the army, and Alfred called him for supplies and assistance.”

The eyebrow got higher.

“Isn’t Sherlock the detective that came back to life? The one with the British government all over his records?”

“…Yes.”

“Bruce, why?” Dick asked, looking pale. “You said – what about… Just why?”

“Alfred asked.”

Silence.

It stretched long enough Bruce could hear the bats settling again, which he was grateful for. He already had enough of a headache over this situation without adding upset wildlife to it.

“What.” Jason enunciated carefully. “The. Actual. Fuck. Bruce.”

He sighed.

“Alfred asked,” he repeated, “And he’s right. We need someone in the manor to help Alfred is there is an emergency, and John already knows. He’s also capable of handling our usual issues without needing to call Leslie. And since Sherlock is undercover right now, this is probably the only chance for Alfred to spend time with him without Sherlock present.”

“Well, that and the Holmeses are trying to keep him out of the line of fire.” Tim added. “Sherlock’s mission is pretty risky. So far he’s been lucky, but if someone makes the wrong connection it puts Dr. Watson and his daughter in danger. They’ve already moved them to the country and put a surveillance detail on the house. They’re probably salivating at the chance to yeet him here.”

Yeet? Bruce mouthed silently.

“I do not understand.” Damian admitted reluctantly, frowning. “Why is his partner the concern? The doctor is the one who knows our identities, correct?”

“Dr. Watson’s fine.” Dick admitted, slumping back in his chair. “He’s…well. Alfred’s nephew. He’s got that same…thing going. Smart, loyal, just a general good guy. The problem is that instead of us, he’s got the Holmes brothers. Sherlock is brilliant and a nightmare of a detective, and his older brother Mycroft is, well…” Dick grimaced. “The head of the shadow branch of the British government.”

“I’m pretty certain Mycroft has fucked with Ra’s business at least once and survived, if you need an idea how good they are,” Tim added, then frowned. “Wait, haven’t you read the blog? Or “The Science of Deduction?” They’re required reading for the detective training module.”

Duke jerked upright, eyes widening. “That’s where I know the name from. You mean its – holy shit! That Doctor Watson?”

Bruce wondered if he should comment on Duke’s swearing, but decided to let it pass for the night. He hadn’t reprimanded Jason, and this entire topic made him want to swear too, so he couldn’t exactly set an example if something slipped out during the reprimand.

Damian sniffed. “Of course I read them. The details were merely unimportant and not worth remembering.”

“So you didn’t actually read them. Why am I not surprised?”

“Drake!”

“Dami, no!”

Dick lunged across Jason’s lap to grab Damian’s arm before the boy could lunge across the table at Tim. Jason looked annoyed at the sudden lap full of older brother, but did help by wrestling away the small knife that had appeared in Damian’s hand when Dick caught him.

“Damian,” Bruce snapped, “What have I told you about attacking your brother?”

Damian jerked his arm away from Dick and Jason straightened up, looking betrayed and mildly murderous.

“But Father! He-“

“Damian.”

Not for the first time, Bruce was silently grateful for the utter lack of a meta gene in his son, or he was certain that the child would have spontaneously generated the ability to set him on fire with his glare. But he held the boy’s gaze with his own until Damian finally looked away, slumping back into his chair and crossing his arms.

“Tt.”

“Hn.”

Silently, Bruce held out a hand in Jason’s direction. Jason side-eyed him for a moment, but apparently decided that not saying anything was the fastest way to get through the meeting, and flipped him the tiny knife Damian had pulled. Bruce caught it absently, glancing at it briefly before tucking it away and making a mental note to search the boy’s clothes before he left the cave each evening while the Watsons were here.

He was also going to need to have another talk with his youngest, but not at this moment. Damian didn’t respond well to public criticism, or criticism at all. But he did better when away from the rest of his siblings for it. Especially when it involved Tim.

Damian and Tim’s relationship was…better. Closer to neutral and edging into comfortable respect, which was a vast improvement. But when under stress, they both took everything as a potential personal threat, and their past history did not help.

Such as right now, where Tim was giving Damian a flat, unimpressed look, that Bruce knew from experience meant he was deliberately keeping himself from reacting in order to keep what little peace was left in the situation.

“Regardless of his…entanglements,” Bruce said sternly, gaze sweeping the table but keeping Damian in the corner of his eye. “Doctor Watson and his daughter will be arriving in three days and staying until Alfred is back on his feet again. He’s doing us a favor, and he is Alfred’s nephew. Which means they are guests. I expect everyone to be civil while they are here. Understand?”

There was a collective rolling of eyes and a grumpy huff from Damian, but Jason was the only one who scoffed out right.

“Yeah, yeah. You said Sherlock was undercover, fine.” Jason stated, leaning back in his chair to give his overdramatic eyeroll more weight. “But what about Mycroft? How the fuck are you going to keep him out of our business?”

“So glad to hear your confidence in my skills,” Barbara drawled, voice coming from the speaker embedded in the table and several phone speakers.

“Oracle will be monitoring all systems for signs of Mycroft’s tampering.” Bruce confirmed tiredly, nodding slightly at the speaker. “He has agreed to not interfere with our affairs once the Watsons have safely arrived unless a development in Sherlock’s mission requires it.”

“Which means he’s going to be snooping everywhere outside the manor, and trying t0 get inside it.” Dick groaned.

Bruce silently inclined his head in his direction as Kate and several of his children made a face.

“Ugh,” Jason groaned. “I do not need him trying to spy on the alley.”

“The good thing is that Gotham doesn’t have the centralized camera network London does,” Barbara stated over the speakers. “So as long as I can keep him out of ours, he’s going to have to hack the others individually and still deal with blind spots. But there’s no telling what his own agents might have put together, so keep your eyes open.”

There were several groans and hesitant expressions at the realization, and more than one joined Duke in slumping onto the table.

“Oracle has added the Watsons flight information to your civilian calendars.” Bruce added, deciding that getting through the rest of the information was the best course of action at this point. He knew his kids. They were going to research the Watsons and the Holmeses thoroughly before John arrived, well beyond the already lengthy files in the Batcomputer. “Their presence here is not a secret, but it should not be advertised either. I will also be informing Gordon of their presence, in case someone recognizes John and takes an interest.”

A few nods and grimaces.

“Dr. Watson has agreed to help out in the cave as well as the manor as necessary, so everyone will have a chance to meet him at some point both in and out of costume. But his primary focus will be Alfred and his daughter until we can be sure this…arrangement will work out. Any questions?”

Cass raised a hand. “Daughter?”

“Actually, yes,” Steph pointed finger guns at Cass. “That. He’s bringing his daughter? How old is she now? He doesn’t write about her much.”

Bruce nodded. “Yes. Rosie is five. She’s apparently very smart for her age, and very curious. So be careful. She has the background to be…far more inquisitive than the average civilian child, and due to Sherlock has…an unusually broad knowledge base for her age.”

“Wait a fucking second,” Jason exclaimed, horrified fascination slowly dawning on his face. “She’s Dr. Watson’s daughter. Dr. Watson and Sherlock Holmes. Who gets babysat by the British government. An assassin’s kid raised by them?” He whistled. “This is going to be great.”

Well, now he knew just how closely Jason had been spying on his cases in the Batcomputer. Mary Watson nee Morstan’s past life was in his files, but nowhere on the internet.

Cass and Damian both perked at the mention of assassins, while Kate, Stephanie, and Duke all looked confused.

“Assassin?”

“Her mom, Mary? Was part of an assassin team called A.G.R.A. before she went rogue. Dr. Watson found out after they married.” Tim stated.

Cass tilted her head curiously as Damian simply said “Tt.”

Bruce sighed. “Regardless, she is five, Alfred’s great-grandniece, and a civilian. We haven’t had a child that young in the manor for a while, so be careful what you do or say around her. If she gets hurt or into trouble while you are with her I will allow John to punish the one responsible.”

“Meh,” Steph waved a hand dismissively, grinning. “She’s five. In a house this big and with this many vigilantes around? Trouble is a guarantee. Ten bucks she finds the cave in her first game of hide and seek and tries to hide down here.”

And there was the return of the terrifying image that had been haunting him since the moment he’d realized he was going to have a child even younger than Dick had been wandering around. The cave was not a safe environment for a small child, no matter how many safety rails and other precautions he installed.

Thanks Stephanie.

“If that happens,” he stated as evenly as he could manage. “John will not be the only one meting out punishments. Once he has finished removing your intestines with a rusty spoon and I’ve revoked all you access to the cave, we will be turning you over to Alfred and allowing you to explain how his grandniece got herself killed or hurt under your watch. Assuming there is anything left of you once John tells the Holmes brothers what you allowed to happen to her.”

There was silence for a long, stunned moment before an admiring whistle broke the silence.

“Damn.”