Saving Grace: a Batman fanfiction

Chapter 2

             Bruce was definitely lacking in the communication department.

             This was made clear when Alfred announced during dinner that a Miss Katherine Parkingham had called and said that she would bring the guest over tomorrow morning.

             Tim, Damian, and Dick-- who was visiting for dinner from Bludhaven like he often did-- all perked up and looked to Bruce for an explanation.

             "Oh, right. Uh, we're having a boy stay with us for a little bit," said Bruce awkwardly. "A foster child, actually."

             He should've known better than to tell them like that, because Dick laughed out loud incredulously, Tim sighed in disbelief, and Damian screamed a long string of curses and hurled his meat knife at Bruce before running out of the kitchen and slamming the door to his room.

             "It's temporary," Bruce managed, before slumping down in his chair and sighing tiredly. "This was a bad idea. And tomorrow morning is too soon."

            "Shall I get a guest room ready, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, voice unphased but eyebrows up his forehead.

             "Please," agreed Bruce gratefully. "It's temporary, guys," he reiterated to Dick and Tim who were still staring at him, agape.

             "You're taking in another stray?" Dick asked, giggling like it was the funniest thing he’d heard all week. "Wow. But why?"

             "I'm not taking him in, it's just a foster kid, and it'll be short term. And I'm doing it because we have this huge mansion and there are kids in need of a place to stay temporarily."

             "I didn't think you had it in you," said Tim, wide eyed. "You've been busier than ever, on all fronts."

             "Oh, that reminds me," said Bruce suddenly. "He can't-- can not-- know about Batman, or the rest of us. Understand?"

             Dick and Tim both nodded. "Okay. I guess I need to go talk to Damian about it. Why do you think he got so mad?" Tim snorted loudly and Dick giggled again. 

             "Uh, youngest child syndrome," said Tim with a smirk.

             "He's jealous," Dick explained more helpfully. 

    “He shouldn’t be jealous,” said Bruce, completely bewildered. “It’s TEMPORARY.” He left the kitchen (and Dick and Tim’s sniggers) behind as he climbed the stairs to Damian’s room, somewhat wearily.

    “Damian, let me in,” he said at the door upon finding it locked.

    “Why in the world, Father,” Damian hissed, eyes ablaze, kicking the door open from the inside, “would you foster a filthy-blooded orphan when you have your true-blood heir?”

    “Dick is my first heir,” griped Bruce, unable to stay patient through the discussion that he’d already had countless times before with his youngest son. “Because he’s my first son. It doesn’t matter what your blood is, Damian. You can choose your own family. What about Alfred?”
    “What has Pennyworth anything to do with this?” Damian spat, still fuming.

    “Alfred is part of our family. But he’s not related to us by blood. Blood doesn’t matter as much as love does.”

    “Tt.You have no use for another child!” Damian soldiered on. “Not when you have me!” 

    Bruce sighed heavily (he’d been doing that a lot, lately, and it wasn’t about to stop) and sat down on Damian’s bed.

    “I love you the same as I love Dick, and Tim, and Jason. I’m not replacing you. I’m not getting another kid because I’m not happy enough with you, Damian.” And in all honesty, maybe he should call the whole stunt off. The kid hadn’t even arrived yet and he was already causing a lot more trouble than he was worth.

    “Then why,” Damian said, voice angry but eyes somewhat calmed. “Why must we live with a filthy-blooded orphan?”

    “Don’t use words like that, Damian, please,” said Bruce wearily. “We’re going to host this foster child because it’s a good thing to do and we have more than enough space for him. And it won’t be for long. Just two or so months.” And hopefully less, if he could convince Kate. 

    “Are you telling Todd?” Damian asked, eyebrows narrowed. Bruce was somewhat surprised by the question, seeing as Jason never came to the manor without being heavily persuaded by him, Dick, or Tim.

    “Why?”

    “Because he tried to kill the two kids you got after him,” said Damian primly. “Might as well tell him this time so he doesn’t try it again. On the other hand, maybe it’s for the best if he does.” Bruce shot Damian a warning look and left his room.

    Because Damian kind of had a good point-- he probably should tell Jason. 

    Shockingly enough, Jason had the smallest reaction to the news. (Or maybe that was just a front. He had so many fronts with Bruce.)  He just shrugged from the rooftop opposite Bruce.

    “So?” he said, voice uncaring if a little harsh. “It’s just temporary.”

    His voice sounded about as mocking as Bruce had ever heard it, but before he could further question his second eldest son he had flipped over the side of the building and sailed away into darkness.