Batman entered the kitchen. Even though he knew Alfred didn't need help carrying dishes, if he continued dawdling, the Robins would expose the fact that he was hiding in his room watching Holmes.
As he stopped by the kitchen door, Martha almost collided with him as she spun around just after stepping over the threshold.
Batman was considerably tall, even more so than Thomas. Standing there as steady as a brick wall, Martha was startled when she walked right into him.
"Oh dear, Bruce," exclaimed the elegant lady as she took a few steps back to steady herself. She gave Bruce a once-over before looking at him squarely to ask, "What brings you here? Dinner is almost ready; I reckon you could spend a bit more time chit-chatting with the kids at the dining table."
"I thought Thomas needed to inquire about their study progress."
"Oh please," Martha sighed, "don't allow him to do that, Bruce. Dinner conversation should be enjoyable. You should protect the children from stress."
Batman turned to glance at the dining room.
At that moment, Jason was flipping a square tray over and using the base's perimeter as a football field, explaining to the three Robins across him how he lost his game.
Bruce had made his way over to the three Robins and was arguing with Nightwing about the referee's rulings.
"By Friday, I will ensure that the referee is taken care of. I'll teach those boys the true meaning of being a home-ground player," he declared passionately.
"That's not fair, Bruce. Just because their referee was biased, you can't have Jason's school referee do the same; it's a vicious cycle," Nightwing emphasized, "The kids want a fair game."
"But they were the ones who abandoned fairness first. Can you imagine how disappointed Jason's team must have been? They trained hard for three months, only to have it all ruined by an unfair verdict. We need to make them taste the bitterness of disappointment so they understand the importance of fairness."
"Well said!" Damian smacked the table hard, "Exactly! Why should we give way to them?"
Thomas's gaze scanned across the room and landed on Damian, who coughed and shrugged, commenting, "And it's not like we're going to beat them up. We're merely doing what they did, so what's wrong with that?"
"So, you were considering beating them up?"
Meanwhile, Red Robin stroked his chin thoughtfully, "I'm considering if there's more to it than what meets the eye. Could it be some spying by parents? Taking business grudges to the soccer field sounds about right."
"Sounds like wild conspiracy theories," Dick shook his head, "Play soccer properly, why bring in all this unnecessary fuss?"
Red Hood inclined his head towards the makeshift soccer field and instructed, "Listen to me, play like this. If I were you... wait, I am you. I mean, you should play on the wings, that's their weak point..."
And so, they started discussing tactics, deliberating how to knock the socks off everyone with a fantastic finish under the unfair referees' rulings. Thomas appeared engrossed in his newspaper, but Batman knew he was listening attentively, without any opportunity to interject and ask about Dick's homework.
"Bruce!!!"
Batman heard Thomas's call, clearly directed at him. Martha motioned for him to hurry over and chimed, "Button up your bib before the dishes arrive, go on."
Reluctantly, Batman had to return to the dining table.
As he stepped in, the room fell silent.
"How's the dinner coming along?" Thomas queried.
"Almost ready," Batman seated himself and deftly buttoned up his bib.
No one at the dining table was able to track his swift movements. In any case, the bib seemed to have magically appeared around his collar as if by enchantment.
In any case, nobody was expecting to see Batman stretching his neck and fumbling with both hands, struggling to button up his bib. They all fell silent.
Thomas was still engrossed in his newspaper, but Batman knew he hadn't read a single word. As he returned, the children were engaged in a heated tactical discussion; Damian was just about to reveal his masterstroke. Thomas appeared eager to listen, but everything had abruptly stopped.
All the Robins sat up straight, leaning against their chair backs, silently staring at their plates. The only difference from being jailed was that at least prisoners knew the duration of their sentence.
An eerie silence prevailed.
"Aren't you going to button up your bibs?" a soft question escaped Batman.
Visibly tensing, the kids tried figuring out if Batman was chastising them for not buttoning up their bibs, reminding them they were not supposed to button it, or instructing how to button it.
Nightwing tentatively reached out for his bib, while Red Robin seized the chance to scrutinize Batman's face. Detecting no change, he hinted Red Hood, and within seconds, the three Robins buttoned up their bibs, reverting to their former positions.
When Martha arrived with the dishes, she found the older Robins lined up across the table like convicts, and Bruce standing behind Dick's chair, helping him button up his bib.
"How much longer are you going to take?" Dick stretched out a hand to casually rub the tense muscles of his neck and shoulders, he lowered his head, but his eyes were looking over his shoulder at Bruce behind him who was trying to tie a knot. "You look like you're performing a particularly complicated operation."
"Talk less, Dick, tying a knot isn't that difficult, I'm trying my best."
"The odds of failure are high." Jason adjusted Martha's plate and said, "You'd better stop trying; if you tie a dead knot, we're doomed."
Tim chuckled as if he was visualizing the sight of Dick asleep with the napkin around his neck. Jason turned his head back and said, "You shouldn't laugh; you can't even tie your shoelaces."
"Mind your manners, Jason," Thomas reminded him: "Offending everyone before dinner might result in you getting a flurry of pillow attacks at the slumber party later on."
Eventually, Bruce gave up, and Martha took over his job, carefully tying the napkins for each of the children.
"Taking care of the children is your job, not ours," Thomas's voice contained a hint of anger as he looked at Batman. "Stand there, sit here. Is this all you can do?"
Batman was taken aback by this scolding. He knew Thomas well, being the heir to the Wayne family, Thomas never resorted to offensive language. This was his way of showing anger.
Hence, Batman stood up again. As he glanced around, he noticed Damian had yet to tie his napkin, so he walked over to him.
Damian was nearly scared to death.
"Uh, I...I can tie it myself, I can...I..."
Batman picked up the napkin and without a word, tied it around Damian's neck, perfectly forming a slip-knot.
When Damian finally realized what happened, he pulled at the not too tight, not too loose napkin around his neck and pulled a horrified face at Tim next to him.
The truth was everyone could see his nervousness. The moment Batman made a stride in their direction, their hearts jumped into their throats.
Not because they thought Batman would actually do anything bad to them, but because for so long, Batman had made himself a source of terror. Even when he wasn't Batman, his imposing aura made him look like a terrifying lion, and no one could ignore such a beast approaching them.
Instinctively, they felt fear and trembled, the instinct to survive triggering their desire to flee. When he touched them, they stiffened, unable to move, looking like chickens ready for slaughter or fish on a chopping board.
"I really don't know how you do it, making your own son react to you like a mouse confronting a cat," Thomas mused as he picked up his knife and fork. "People always have to choose between their career and family, but you, with your exceptional talents, managed to carve out an unprecedented path - every step worse than the last one."
Batman was left speechless.
When he was busy being Batman, the unending trouble filled up his entire life, so he could use it as an excuse to explain the problems with the Batman Family.
"It's not that I cannot manage the relationships within the family, I'm just too busy. When the troubles of the city have taken up all my time, it's understandable that family stuff can pile up into conflicts."
Batman never expected the day would come when he'd be forced to return to family life. Once he became idle, he discovered that the issues he faced were not simply family conflicts; there was no place in this family for him.
Batman, who longed so much for his parents to return, didn't receive much familial love once they did. Other than the initial joy of reuniting with them, Batman only felt out of place.
While the Batman Family with their Robins was a combat team, Batman was their leader. But when they became a real family, Batman was lost.
Ultimately, he could not go back to being a child, nor could he fully assume the role of a father.
To receive parental affection, one has to be a child, to be vulnerable at times, wilful at others, expressing oneself honestly and then awaiting the care and help from parents.
To enjoy the affection of children, one must act as a father. Besides supervising and urging them, one also has to care for them, worry for them and stand behind them with a firm, emotional, and even unreasonable posture, to give them a sense of security.
All of these were things Batman could not do.
It wasn't much of a problem that he couldn't do it in the past, as most people didn't notice or, if they did, they didn't hold it against him. After all, saving the world is a lofty goal, worth setting aside familial bonds temporarily.
But it was not possible now. Batman thought, staring at Bruce sitting across from him, that if all the Batmans in the universe were seriously ill, then he was not abnormal.
But there happened to be a cure, who had managed to heal himself at a young age. Seeing him function so normally made Batman feel abnormal.
But soon, he realized things were much worse than he'd imagined. After dinner, Bruce came back with another Bruce – a young Bruce who was sad, tired, and pale.
"Oh my God!!!"
Martha screamed and ran towards this Bruce. She hugged Bruce and after letting go, she held Bruce's face, staring at the slightly absent blue-gray eyes and shouted.
"Bruce! Bruce, what happened to you? Alfred, call the doctor, call the doctor now!!!"