Title: Legally Yours

Summary: "Dick?" Bruce exclaimed. "Why does this indicate that Damian Wayne is legally your adopted son?"

Author's Note: Here's a One-Shot I wrote about a situation that could've happened when Bruce was lost in time. I never really got the timeline right. I never do with comics, so for the stake of this story, Bruce was missing in time for two years. This takes place two weeks after Bruce's return. Another Dick and Damian story! 3 I'm sorry. I'm a sucker for Dick and Damian, father-and-son, stories. I just love them so much.

Disclaimer: I don't own DC Comics. Or Batman. Or Dick Grayson, no matter how much I love his character.

And he said "That's my job,
That's what I do.
Everything I do is because of you,
To keep you safe with me.
That's my job you see."

-That's my Job by Conway Twitty

"Are you absolutely certain, D? This will change everything."

"Tt. Of course I'm certain." Damian smirked and folded his arms across his chest to give him a false air of arrogance. "After all, I am the son of Batman."

Dick found himself smiling, despite the tense situation. "Yes. Ha. Yes, little D, you are."

"I can't believe you made this happen, Alfie!" Dick exclaimed, grabbing a plate of Alfred's famous tea sandwiches: bite-size choices of cucumber, ham and cheese, or salmon. He grabbed the other platter of scones, biscuits, jam and clotted cream.

Dick, himself, was not a huge fan of Alfred's famous afternoon tea meals. Apart from the biscuits and jam in which Dick would devour in a heartbeat. However, Dick had grown used to the British's tea ritual as Damian often requested it. It also used to be a favorite of Bruce's as a child, and thus appropriate for the family gathering to celebrate Bruce's return.

Had it truly only been two weeks since Bruce came back to them?

It felt like Bruce never left.

Yet at the same time, it felt like he'd been gone for years.

Funny, how time works.

"Bruce is alive," Alfred said with a smile that reached his eyes. It used to be a rare sight the past two years. Not now. "And he's home. It is a much needed celebration with every member of his family."

Dick smiled. "Hard to believe it used to be only you and Bruce in this manor."

"It started off with Thomas, Martha, and I. Now...I wouldn't trade anything for the world."

Dick agreed and stepped out onto the patio with the plates, heading toward where Alfred had set up a long table with various tea pots and cups placed accordingly. A gentle breeze rustled Dick's jet black hair and brought the scent of blossoms.

Bruce sat at the head of the table, chuckling behind his hand over something that Tim said to his left.

Barbara and Stephanie sat next to Tim, talking in hushed whispers. At the other head of the table was a chair for Alfred.

Dick circled the table, going for the empty chair between Damian and Jason who were arguing over the most gruesome way they would kill each other. Dick shook his head with amusement.

It was nearly the same argument the two had when Jason and Damian first met. This time, however, there was no heat or viciousness in their words. To the casual eavesdropper, it may sound like they were serious. But Dick knew them well enough to know when it was a banter, even if they didn't realize it themselves.

Dick set the serving plates down at the middle of the table, between the tea pots, as he took his seat.

He squatted Jason's hand who reached out for a scone. "Uh-uh. Wait until Alfred's seated." As Jason pulled back his hand, Dick proceeded to scoop up the same scone Jason was reaching for, dip it in the clotted cream and shoved it into his mouth with a grin.

Jason shoved Dick's shoulder and reached for a different scone, a glare plastered on his features. "Hypocrisy doesn't become you, Golden Boy," Jason snapped.

"Can't we get through one meal without a fight?" Barbara chided.

"Don't eat all of the scones," Stephanie cried out as Jason grabbed another one.

"You should be flattered, Fatgirl," Damian said. "He's helping you curb your weight."

"Shove it, you snot!" Stephanie spat.

"Relax, Master Stephanie," Alfred set down another platter of scones next to her. "I thought ahead."

She beamed and Alfred set down another plate of sandwiches by Barbara before he settled into his seat.

"I'd say a salutation to begin our meal but it appears it has already started," Alfred said.

"Don't look at me," Jason said. "Goldie here is the inconsiderate prick."

"Language, Master Jason," Alfred reproached, yet Dick could see the hint of a smile.

"Dick never waited for anybody. Seems that some things haven't changed," Bruce said, raising a cup of tea in salute to Alfred. "Thank you."

Alfred nodded.

Clinks and table chatters arose around the table as they filled their cups and plates with tea and food.

Dick held back a chuckle as he noticed Damian sneaking Titus a piece of salmon sandwich under the table.

Ah, family.

He missed this. The whole family gathered together in one spot. It'd been him, Damian, and Alfred for what felt like years. The past few months he'd slowly gained Tim and Jason back. Barbara and Stephanie had been over occasionally like out-of-town family members visiting, so they were always there, but...

Dick couldn't judge what the others have been through, but he felt like the three of them went through so much dealing with Bruce's supposed death. They felt it more, grieved more...

And moved on.

Which was probably why he, Damian, and Alfred took Bruce's return as much more of a shock than the others.

Dick wondered if letting Bruce go instead of holding onto the notion that Bruce was alive, instead of holding anger and wishing they could've reconciled, instead of gripping hard onto Bruce and Batman's memory, made them terrible people?

He jerked from his thought as Jason barked a laughter.

"Why am I not surprised? Fancy tea sandwiches for the posh Bruce Wayne. Why can't you like a barbeque like a normal man?" Jason asked.

"I second that. I would prefer a hamburger over all this..." Tim gestured around the table.

"No one if forcing you to eat it. If you dislike the nourishments in front of you, you may cease to eat if you wish," Alfred said.

"I said prefer!" Tim cried out, grabbing the plate of sandwiches as if Alfred would take it away from him. "Not that I didn't like it!"

"Don't listen to Drake, Pennyworth. A lowborn trash like him doesn't understand proper and elegant dining," Damian said, taking a tip of his tea.

"Lowborn?" Tim shook his fist at Damian. "You cocky little..."

Dick spoke over Tim, interrupting his insult to prevent further argument. "Funny you should say that, little D, the last fancy banquet we were at, you didn't know what to do with the cocktail fork."

Damian's face turned beet red. "Shut up, Grayson! At least I don't drink my tea with my pinky sticking out. You look ridiculous."

Dick glanced down at his fingers wrapped around the tea cup. His right pinky stuck out. He shrugged. "It's how the British do it."

"Tt." Damian scoffed. "Which you are not."

"I may add, Master Richard, that it is considered a form of elitism," Alfred said. "I thought I taught you better than that."

"Oh, I'm only channeling Damian's inner elitism," Dick said. Which was somewhat true. He only started doing it to annoy and mock Damian when they had tea together. "You should rest easy. I've learned proper dining etiquettes."

Damian snorted on his tea. "Ha. You used a butter serving knife to butter his bread at the same banquet!"

Alfred dropped his jaw, appalled. "Master Richard, surely you didn't."

Dick forced a smile. "Why give you a knife if it's not meant for spreading?"

"It's called a serving knife for a reason," Damian said. "I should also add you shoved the entire bread roll into your mouth."

Dick glanced over at Damian with a chuckle. "At least I got Vicki Vale to stop pestering me with questions."

Damian smiled at that. "You did spew bread pieces over her dress."

"Master Richard!" Alfred gasped, yet Dick knew he was taking this all in amusement.

Dick blinked as he realized that he, Damian, and Alfred were bantering with fluid motion. He knew the other sensed their close bonds and wondered if they felt excluded.

"Well," Dick said, hoping to bring Bruce into the conversation. "Now you've got an idea of how to behave at your banquet tomorrow night."

Bruce pursed his lips to the side, his eyes sparkling in enjoyment.

"That's right!" Stephanie exclaimed, clasping her hands in joy. "Ready to unleash your playboy charm?"

"You might want to practice," Barbara teased. "You don't want to scare anybody off with that scowl you seem to have permanently attached to your face."

"Are you sure you're ready?" Tim pressed.

"We can't always be precious Batman all the time, can we?" Jason grumbled.

Bruce shook his head at them. "I'll be ready." He flashed a charming smile. "Who do you think taught Dick here how to be so charismatic?"

"Tt." Damian scoffed. "If anyone taught anyone how to be charismatic, you obviously learned it from Grayson."

Dick blinked as the implications of Damian's words settled in. He cackled, running his fingers through Damian's hair. "Aw, you think I'm charismatic?"

"It wasn't meant to be a compliment, Grayson!"

Bruce chuckled and snapped his fingers. "Which reminds me, since you're all here..." He pulled out a leather briefcase.

Dick groaned. "Business, Bruce? Can we do it afterwards?"

The others around the table echoed similar complaints.

"Master Bruce, may I suggest that you listen to your family?" Alfred said, pouring himself another cup of tea.

Bruce rubbed the side of his temple. "I would, but this needs to be signed, just in case, I get lost in time again or..."

Dick heard the unspoken words: or if I actually die this time.

"I've had trust funds and assets set aside for each of you since I took you all in, and yes, you too, Barbara, when you became Batgirl. Before, you would have only been able to access after my death."

Bruce slipped money into their back accounts anyway. Why bother with a trust fund? And...in truth, Tim had hacked into Bruce's account and everyone here, save Jason, had access to Bruce's money anyway. Didn't Bruce know that? Someone should tell him. Dick decided to let Tim have that opportunity to fall on his own sword.

"I did some changing, and now each of you are able to access your own trust funds, within reason," Bruce stressed, casting a glare at Jason, "right now instead of after my death. I had Lucius draw up all the paperworks this morning and I need all of you to sign it, save Damian and Stephanie. As your father and guardian, I will sign yours."

Dick's heart thumped. As Damian's father... Oh, no. Oh... "Um, actually, Bruce, can we really do this after tea?"

Lucius would assume Bruce knows. Lucius would hand everything over...

Damian's eyes had grown wide. "Yes, Father. Listen to Grayson."

Bruce didn't listen. He handed out an inch-stack of paperwork to Tim.

Damian tried to start an argument. "Tim's still underage. Why don't you sign his?"

"He's heir to Wayne Enterprise," Bruce explained. He handed Stephanie and Barbara theirs.

"The heir?" Damian sputtered. "That idiotic annoyance?"

"You already knew that," Tim grumbled. "He's not going to change his mind."

Bruce handed Jason his.

"Heh. A trust fund. Think of all the parties..." Jason muttered. He glanced over the papers thoughtfully. "I didn't know I would have one," he whispered softly.

Dick tried again. He didn't want Bruce to find out here, and not in front of the others. Not yet. "Bruce, can we go somewhere and discuss..."

Bruce's eyebrow furrowed. "Where did Lucius put Damian's?"

"HA!" Tim yelled. "So much for being the true son of Batman."

Dick winced. He held up a hand. "Um, Bruce..."

"Master Bruce, may I..." Alfred shared a worried look at Dick.

Bruce leafed through Dick's small stack of paperwork, bound by a paperclip. "It could have been accidentally placed it with..." His eyes narrowed as he skimmed over a sentence.

"Bruce," Dick said.

The others around the table grew silent, as if finally sensing Dick's urgency.

"Dick," Bruce stressed out dangerously. "Why is Damian's trust fund issued through your name?"

"Ahem. Shall we take this..."

"Why does this indicate that Damian Wayne is legally your adopted son?" Bruce snarled.

Jason hissed a breath through his teeth. "Whew, I'm glad I showed up for this."

Tim's eyes bulged out at Dick. "You...you adopted the Demon Child?"

Stephanie and Barbara shared a concerned glance.

"You terminated my rights as Damian's father?!" Bruce rose to his feet, slamming Dick's paperwork on top of his plate, squishing the cucumber sandwiches.

Dick threw up his hands. "Look, it was before we knew you weren't actually dead. We assumed..."

"You mean, you guys gave up," Tim muttered. He still didn't forgive Dick for that, for healing, for moving on. For not believing in Bruce.

Dick sighed. Not helping, Tim.

"You told me you held off from declaring Bruce Wayne dead," Bruce said.

"Yes," Dick said, "And occasionally, we brought Hugo Strange in to masquerade as you in front of the public."

"Then why do this?" Bruce placed his hands on his hip. "Why would you dare take my son away from me?"

"You dare take my son away from me?" Talia snarled in Dick's face, her nose inches from his.

"You wish to take him away from being Robin, to return to the League of Assassins," Dick said, refusing to budge.

"It's his rightful place. I only sent him here to disrupt Bruce's work, not play in a farce circus act with a bumbling gypsy!"

Dick allowed the insult to roll over him. "Damian wants to be Robin. Damian wants a semblance of a childhood."

"You think you know what's best for my son? I'm his mother. Bruce was his father. You're nothing to him."

"You're wrong, Mother," Damian spat as he stepped forth from the shadows.

Dick and Talia took a step back from each other.

Damian joined Dick's side. "He's more of a parent than you'll ever be."

"Stop it!" Damian yelled, rising to his feet, pointing a finger at Bruce. He never looked so much like his father's son. "You weren't here!" He swept his gaze around the table. "None of you were!"

"You were so eager to believe Bruce was dead!" Tim yelled. "You gave up."

"Don't you dare say that!" Damian yelled. "I never gave up. I continued to be Robin! I continued to do what he..." he spun to Bruce. "What you asked of me. To honor you!"

Tears welled, yet Damian held them back, made them disappear before anyone could notice. Yet Dick noticed. He always noticed it.

"You weren't here. My mother wanted me to give up being Robin. She threatened to take me back. Threatened to manipulate and brainwash me to once again be the heir of the League of Assassins." He glowered at Bruce, fists shaking at his sides. "She was the one who terminated your rights as a father. Not Grayson."

"You will give my son back to me," Talia ordered Dick.

Dick shook his head. "He's legally mine now. He's under my protection." He strolled up to Talia. "And if you hurt him, or take him away from me, I swear to God, that I will hunt you, and all your precious clones, all the members of the League of Assassins, hell, even Ra's al Ghul, and I will slaughter each and every one of you."

Talia simpered. "I know your pathetic weakness. You refuse to kill."

Dick smirked cruelly and mustered up the best Bat-glare he could fathom. In a low, gravelly voice, Dick made a promise: "There's a first time for everything."

Talia trembled and stepped back from him.

When she left, Damian approached Dick, in shock. "You would really kill for me? Break your oath?"

"You once said that you know a thousand ways to kill me."

"Your point?"

"I know a thousand pains worse than death. So, maybe I won't kill them, but they're not going to have you. Not unless they wished to experience sadistic torture by my hands."

For the first time since they met, Damian hugged Dick.

"She almost took me away from Grayson. She didn't think he was worthy enough to teach me, to train me...to fight alongside with me," Damian said.

Bruce stared at Damian, various emotions playing out across his features that Dick couldn't pick one out.

Tim scoffed. "Relax, Bruce, we can find a way to revoke this. Dick can just give Damian back to you." Like it was the easiest thing in the world. Tim would probably try to find a loophole or clause to make this happen.

"It's not my choice to make," Dick said. "And..."

He couldn't say it.

"What?" Bruce pressed.

"I'm afraid this decision cannot be revocable," Alfred said, setting down his cup of tea. "Talia enlisted the aid of Hugo Strange and thus, Dick had to make a compelling case to ensure nothing they do could take Damian away by the court of law."

"Bruce, look, this is all just on paper," Tim said. "It doesn't change anything. You're still his father, as much as the rest of us doesn't like it. I'm sure Dick would be more than happy to give Damian up."

Damian's fists trembled. He opened his mouth for a retort, glanced at Bruce then stormed off, with Titus strolling after him.

"Damian," Dick called out, but the young Robin disappeared inside of the house. Dick rose from the chair, glowering darkly at Tim. "Tim, that was uncalled for."

"What? You don't have to pretend anymore," Tim said. "It's okay. Bruce is back."

Dick's voice dipped lower. "Tim, I love you like a brother, but if say hurtful things like that to Damian again, you're banished from this house."

Tim scoffed. "Banished from..." He trailed off at the look upon Dick's face. He choked on his words.

"Bruce." Dick turned to him, his voice still low. "You weren't here. I could come up with as many excuses as I can, but I'm just going to give you one. I love Damian. I love that kid more than life itself. I would do anything to protect him. If I believed...if I knew you were still alive, if you were lost in time, I would do it all over again." His voice softened slightly. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way. I'm sorry that this happened, but I'm not sorry for protecting him."

With that said, Dick stepped back from the table. "Sorry, Alfie, I'll make up to you for this."

And he chased after his adopted son.

Alfred sighed, watching Dick slip into the manor. His heart ached, for Bruce, for Richard, and for Damian. All of them. He swept his gaze across the table.

"Wow," Stephanie said. "I never knew Dick would be such a frightening overprotective parent."

"Stephanie," Tim hissed

"What?" she whispered harshly back. She then noticed the painful expression upon Bruce's features. "Oh."

"I know I said you were a crappy parent, Bruce, but even I wouldn't scoop this low," Jason said.

Alfred wanted nothing more than to hug Bruce, console him, tell him that nothing's changed, that things would return to normal.

But everything changed, and things would never return to the way they were.

Bruce could try as he might to have a father-son relationship with Damian, pick up where he left off.

But he would never have what Damian and Dick had.

Dick was Damian's beacon of hope, his light.

"Master Bruce, do not take this to heart. Both of your sons love you, and Master Richard did not do this to hurt you. You know that."

"Why did he threaten me like that?" Tim asked. "He's not head of the manor, Bruce is!"

Alfred gazed sadly upon Tim. "Your brother has been head of Wayne Manor for the past two years. Where were you?"

Tim flinched. "I was looking for Bruce. I didn't give up!"

"You were driven by your denial, Master Timothy. Not by hope."

Tim blinked and squared his shoulders as if realizing something for the first time.

"Master Bruce, do you wish to know why Master Richard took up the cowl?"

"To prove he'd be the better Batman," Jason scoffed to his left. "He was a terrible Batman."

"He wasn't all bad," Barbara said with a shrug.

Alfred kept his composure, trying to ensure they did not ignite the smoldering rage underneath.

"He took up the cowl, to preserve your legacy. It was a role he did not wish to perform, but he did nonetheless."

"He didn't have to take it up. Nightwing was better than Batman," Bruce said.

"What?" Jason and Tim barked.

"He didn't have to take up that role. I never wanted that for him."

"Oh, but Master Bruce, Gotham cannot flourish without a Batman, and a Robin cannot fly without a Batman..."

Comprehension flickered upon Bruce's features. A soft smile formed. "Of course."

"He became Batman to train Damian, to watch over him, to show him a life of light outside of the darkness."

Bruce chuckled sadly. "He saved the son like he saved the father," he muttered.

Alfred tried to offer a reassuring smile. "Do not be worried, Bruce. Both of them still love you, very much, and are beyond happy of your return. Just know that Damian suffered through a very intense custody battle between Talia and Dick. Talia tried extreme methods to steal Master Damian from us."

Alfred exhaled deeply. There was more to the story, so much more. It wasn't entirely in his place to tell. That battle...took a toll on the three of them.

There were fights, and they all took their time lashing out. At each other, to other people. Somehow, after six months, they emerged victorious. Their bonds grown stronger like the finest steel that went through the hottest fire.

"It was not easy, and Dick made himself the number one enemy of Ra's and Talia's." Alfred swallowed, expressing his deepest fear. "I'm afraid that one day, they'll bring his downfall."

"They won't, Alfred," Bruce said. "Not that I'm back."

"They won't get anywhere near him," Tim promised.

"I need a new target practice," Jason said. "I would love to use them."

Alfred beamed. While the fear remained, it didn't grip tightly onto his heart. It hovered like a fog, but he knew soon, they'll be chased away by the light.

"Damian?" Dick called out, poking his head into the room.

Empty. He narrowed his gaze. He knew better. He slipped into the bedroom, stepping over the sketchbooks on the floor and ensuring not to step on any pencils. He pulled back the curtains from the window and found Damian sitting out on the roof.

He wondered if he taught Damian that. The kid never did it before until he found Dick moping outside the roof of his own bedroom window once, throwing himself a pity-party.

He opened the window and stepped out carefully on the roof.

Damian tensed.

"Tim's wrong. I won't be happy," Dick said.

Damian closed his eyes. "I don't want another fight over me. Not between you and Bruce. Not between..." His shoulders shook and Dick's heart went out to him.

Dick took a seat and placed his arm around the kid's shoulders. "There won't be one, Damian. I won't fight with Bruce over you. Now, for you, that's a different story."

Damian sniffed and wiped angrily at his tears. "Gah. Why am I crying? This is stupid. Father won't want me. And even if he did, he only wants to mold me into what he wants me to be. That's what he was trying to do before he..." The tears came and Damian growled at them, wiping them with his sleeves.

"Give him the chance. Show him who you already are. Show him the man you're going to become."

"Ha. A Batman who is vicious and cruel?" Damian said.

"Tt," Dick scoffed.

Damian glared.

"Little D, do you know what I see when I look at you?"

Damian shook his head.

"A hero. An amazing kid who has a big heart, but hides it behind insults and pride. I see a kid who can be a pain in the ass, but the greatest friend and partner I ever had. I see a kid who is going to grow up to be a strong man who will, yes, have his flaws, but he'll be a man many will look at and admire and be proud to be a friend of his, a family member of his, and a father of his."

Damian's lips quivered and he curled his lower lip back to steady it. "Are you..."

"Do you even have to ask? I am proud of you. I've always been proud of you."

Damian smiled. "Really?"

Dick pulled his little brother, his mentee, his partner, and his son into his chest and held him tight in a hug.

"You have nothing to be scared of. Eventually, they will see you as I truly see you," Dick said.

Damian pulled back a bit. "Why did you do it? Why did you fight all those months to adopt me?"

"Isn't the answer obvious?" Dick kissed the top of Damian's head. "Because I love you, D."

Damian's next words were muffled. His words of affection always were. Damian still had a hard time expressing them, but Dick knew that someday, Damian will grow up into the man who would be able to express it to those he cares about.

"I know." Dick held him closer. "I know."