If one were to say that the Primary Universe Batman and his Robins never had their tender moments, it would be the greatest misunderstanding with the nastiest intentions.
As a matter of fact, the Batman Family of the Prime Universe had had many good times, where every member had shared tender moments with Batman.
Batman had once carried an injured Dick back to the Batmobile, watched over his bedside as moonlight spilled across the room. He had sat on the couch waiting for that tall figure of Jason to return home late at night, each silently attending to their own affairs in the dark. He had discussed a report with Tim in the Wayne Enterprises office until the boy dozed off on the table, tired. He had quietly watched Damian arrange his gear.
Of course, there were also Barbara, Duke, and Cassandra. Although the interactions between them and the Primary Universe Batman were not frequent at this time, their private encounters were never bristling with aggressiveness or contention.
No one can be aggressive at every moment in life. As human beings, we all get tired and need a quiet release.
Batman always seemed particularly silent in these moments, but it wasn't hostile or indifferent. He accepted the world bustling around him, and the world, in turn, accepted his silence.
If Batman were to be compared to a long winter, then when he crashed headlong into the warmth of spring, despite terms like 'the chill of spring' alerting travelers that this time was also challenging, spring invariably brought hope.
But, what was, or has always been, unacceptable to him were overly intimate physical contacts and some less mature ways of expressing emotions.
The way he and the kids expressed their affections was always very mature and restrained. Batman felt that, ultimately, it was because these children were too precocious. Since they weren't flowers carefully nurtured under parental care, and he wasn't any radiant sun, there was no need for them to bloom against a tall wall.
However, sometimes, seeing Superman and Diana joking heartily with them, even draping an arm over their shoulders or patting their backs, Batman couldn't clearly articulate what he thought at those moments.
The only thing Batman didn't envy Bruce for in such matters was that he could tell the kids' feelings for that dastardly adolescent weren't admiration but more like they had suddenly found a like-minded companion. The kids had never seen Bruce as an elder.
Batman still considered himself an elder to the Robins. He felt he needed some authority as an elder, but sometimes he wondered how to express that closeness.
He had seriously imagined the shock each Robin would have when he initiated closeness. The image was so vivid it almost materialized before Batman's eyes, hence there was no need to attempt it in reality.
But he had never considered what his response should be if the Robins took the initiative to get close to him.
This is the downside of not thinking things through. Batman hadn't even moved a meter before he felt remorse, but sadly, inertia is the greatest force in this world, both physically and emotionally.
Bringing his steps to a halt and adjusting his cloak, Batman really didn't want to show such an overt self-protective stance in front of a psychiatrist, but it was all an instinctive response.
He stood in place in shock first, because Robin's actions exceeded his previous knowledge. But the surprise faded in less than 0.1 seconds because this wasn't his Robin, so anything was possible.
Batman realized he was now facing a terrifying situation—a child had hugged him, said he loved him the most, thanked him, and then he had fled.
Please, inside the cloak, Batman's hands were almost clasped together in prayer, desperately hoping not to cry.
When Batman dodged that instant, the expression on Robin's face was also shock, because he truly hadn't expected Batman to duck—it was just a hug of gratitude after all.
He often did this with Bruce, even parting at the company's doorstep in such a manner. Usually, after Bruce drove him somewhere, he would give Bruce a big hug as he got out of the car, expressing that he would always be his most beloved dad.
This was important because he was almost the only person in the Batman Family with two dads. Bruce could get jealous over this, prompting Tim to always emphasize that he was the beloved one, almost like a catchphrase.
And Bruce would hug him tightly with a happy expression, pat his back, touch his head, then stand at the car door, watching his figure until it disappeared completely.
So when he threw himself into the chair and realized he had missed, embarrassment and hurt nearly brought him to tears.
Yes, this wasn't his universe's Batman, but couldn't he be a bit more polite? Even a calm joke to emphasize the point would do—he shouldn't have just dodged outright.
As expected, Batman saw a Robin with tears streaming down.
Unfortunately, the round cylindrical head of a minifigure is too good at making expressions. On a real person's face, it might have just been a flicker of tears, not easily noticed, but in cartoon expressions, it was truly misty-eyed.
Batman began signaling frantically with his eyes to Dr. Shiller, who as a psychologist should speak up. He had the responsibility to do so, and for the sake of his fee, he needed to speak.
Dr. Shiller was counting his Lego money.
In reality, counting a box full of money takes a long time, but there's a limit to how many small Lego bricks a box can hold. Shiller counted over and over, feeling that if it were gold bars, it would be somewhat interesting, but if it were banknotes, it seemed a bit too little, even as a collectible it appeared rather meager.
When he put down the money, he made a face as if he had just awakened from another world, as though he had just realized the absurdity of this groundless farce.
Unfortunately, he wasn't Dr. Shiller, he couldn't come up with diplomatic words to give these two individuals a way out, nor did the paltry sum he received empower him to restore the atmosphere to normal within a few seconds.
So he propped his head up with his hand, wearing the expression of someone watching an interesting spectacle unfold.
The standoff lasted about a second before Shiller knew that this situation was unsolvable.
He had no choice but to point to the lower half of his cylindrical head to indicate to Batman, "Fun fact, you're the one with a mouth."
In the past, Batman would hardly consider this possibility, because it wasn't an issue that could be resolved through argument, and as for consolation, the few words he could muster were obviously not enough to meet the demands of this impassioned child; the food he'd consumed here was too sweet, even another cup of sweetened coffee would still taste bitter.
But for some reason, today Batman seemed to find it much easier to speak up. He sighed and said, "Sorry, Tim, I'm not used to hugging."
It was too pale, too feeble, Batman thought to himself, that wouldn't even fool Tim from his own universe, let alone this child who had grown up in a honeypot.
Unexpectedly, however, Tim retracted his hand. He wiped his eyes and said, "Oh, I see, I thought you hated me. I just thought about it carefully, and I don't seem to have done anything to make you dislike me. So, you don't usually hug people much?"
Batman couldn't answer that question. As a playboy, how could his life lack hugs? He could embrace a crowd of admirers because he knew there was no genuine emotion, it was as cold as clinking wine glasses together.
But he couldn't hug his children with the same attitude, because the person hugging them would certainly be a furnace full of love, a boiling hot honey pot.
"Oh my God, it seems like you really don't hug people often." Robin appeared to have realized what Batman was thinking and said in surprise, "You haven't even hugged Clark?"
"Why Clark?" Batman was taken aback by his question.
"Because Superman is your friend, archenemy, comrade-in-arms..."
"Stop." Batman interrupted, "That doesn't mean I should hug him. He's a Kryptonian, he's very dangerous."
"You don't hug him, he's still a Kryptonian, still very dangerous."
Batman was left without a response.
"But if you hugged him, maybe he'd forget he's a Kryptonian, and not be so dangerous after all?" Robin chuckled again, "Bruce said that his hug could cool down the sun, so that Big Guy wouldn't get burned by his zeal."
Batman fell silent, but for some reason, he still couldn't help but ask, "What else did he say?"
Robin sat down again, and Alfred replaced the coffee in front of him with milk. He held the cup and sipped slowly, "He told us long ago that he's not a very affectionate person, of course, he's much more so compared to you, but sometimes he's shy and doesn't want to respond."
"But he told us that such people have their own merits. No one wants to be tripped by rainwater on their way home, but if there's a fire, firefighters would certainly hope for a cold rain. To be yearned for means you haven't lived in vain."
As he heard the last sentence, Batman seemed to be moved, but his cartoonish expression revealed his shortcoming, which was an almost total inability to show any microexpression. Thus, Batman's minute expression change naturally got buried.
"Then you should earn him more money." Shiller winked at Tim, "He did take up the role of your psychologist and did a good job."
"Of course," Tim perked up, "Wayne Enterprises has always been under my management. We had a pretty good income last year, which made me a strong contender for the last piece of dessert at the dinner table, Cassandra had to step back."
"What about you?" Shiller looked toward Deadpool, who had been silently snacking, "I thought you'd fill all spaces with speech bubbles, eager to insert yourself into every topic to assert your presence."
"That's how it is in my own universe." Deadpool puffed his cheeks and shrugged, "But I'd be very careful with my views of the Batman Family. They have too many fans, and they're very strong in combat. I wouldn't want to trigger a major uproar in the media."
"You're quite self-aware." Shiller said as he too tossed a popcorn into his mouth.
And at last, finally, they began to discuss serious matters.