Tim was standing by a woman, sobbing on the ground and her husband kneeling by her. She was rocking back and forth, clutching at her shirt, muttering, "My babies, oh no, not my babies. They took my babies!"

Dick and Jason had gone after the would-be kidnappers. Tim looked up to see Cassie and Stephanie, standing in the shadows of the nearby building, the protectors of women and children in this godforsaken city. Tim crept closer to the sobbing woman, offering his silent protection. Upon the rooftops, Stephanie tilted her head. She wonders what the man and woman were going through. She wonders what type of pain it is, losing a child. What goes through a parent's head, knowing that they possibly failed at protecting their very flesh and blood. Stephanie figured it was like losing a sibling, but the feeling wouldn't be the same. Maybe it's like losing a parent. She thought, then immediately regretted it. She winced, thinking about how Bruce was sitting up at home, unconscious.

She needed her father.

...

Cassie had gone to find Jason. She found him standing over two bleeding men, each groaning. She silently hopped down and helped tie them up. She then grabbed one of the children, a little girl who seemed to be about 8 months old. Jason grabbed the boy, who was about 1 and 1/2 years old. They moved the criminals to the edge of the alleyway, before walking back to Tim. Along the way, Cassie quietly muttered to Jason, "Where's Dick?" Jason shook his head, shuffling the toddler in his arms. "He... Ran off. Said he needed a break. I don't blame him. We're all fucking tired." Cassie nodded, pulling the little baby closer. They rounded the corner, and the man and women jumped up, each taking a child. They profusely thanked Jason, Cassie, and Tim. They just nodded, each of them not having the energy to respond, all of them feeling the effects of Bruce's absent.

They needed their dad.

...

Dick flipped through the air, trying to release at least some tension. He was blindly flying when he stumbled and fell onto the top of the Wayne Enterprises building. He laid on his back there, just glazing at the few stars he could see through the Gotham smog. His mind starting going back to that night. It was snowing, just a dusting, but enough for snowballs. It was a calm night, so Dick and Jason had started lazily tossing snowballs back and forth. It soon escalated to a full-blown snowball fight, with Cassie, Steph, and Jay versus Dick, Tim, and Dami. Bruce even got in the game, acting as a safe base. Everyone was having a joyous time, even Bruce -in all his Batman gear- was laughing.

But no one was having a good time now.

Right away patrol, Bruce was called away on a Justice League mission. It was supposed to be simple, just a little calm down this conflict mission. But when was anything simple? Somehow, an angry reporter had snuck into the warehouse they were at and set off a couple of C-4s. They tried putting out the fire but it spread too fast, too powerful. It lit an apartment building on fire, trapping everyone inside. They had thought they had cleared everyone, until a distraught man came up, yelling about his pregnant wife, who was still trapped. Bruce had immediately sprung into action, going back into the blazing building. Firefighters would later say that the fire got to be around 2,500 degrees Fahrenheit. Bruce was halfway out of the building when the fire found a container of gasoline. The explosion flung both Bruce and the woman about 15 feet. Bruce, of course, had used his body to protect the woman, meaning he landed, hard, onto concrete. The woman and baby both survived and Bruce seemed fine, until he passed out at the meeting afterward. Then it was revealed that he had smoke inhalation and a severe concussion.

That was 4 weeks ago.

He still hasn't woken up.

Dick gave a humorless, bitter laugh. Out of all of the heroes that could have gone into that building, it was Bruce. Not Green Lantern, not Wonder Woman. Not even the fucking, goddamn Superman. Dick rolled up on to his knees, leaning back. As much as Bruce will deny it, he did need to be more conscious, more protection. And yet, no one else ran into that building. God, Dick hated the Justice League right now. 'We will protect everyone.' Yet they couldn't protect their own. Dick punched the air, angry at the world. He then sighed, suddenly drained from all energy. He and his siblings had been working overtime, both at Wayne Enterprises and at night. And they were all realizing how much Bruce protected and helped them.

And Dick was realizing how much he needs his father.

...

Back at the cave, Alfred was just barely being able to monitor the screen. He was beyond exhausted, but he would never let his young charges see that. Even after years of Batman, he still can't get used to seeing Bruce layed up, helpless. He was so used to seeing Bruce as a strong, unbreakable man who has raised six children, all while managing a successful company, and has protected a hellhole city from the worse it could offer. And as ridiculous as in sounds, Alfred often forgets that Bruce is just a human man. So when he breaks, it shakes Alfred's very core. And it's very difficult seeing your child in any hurt, but it is even worse when you know that you can't prevent it. So all Alfred can do is keep up public appearances, keep up with the children, and pray to God that Bruce will wake up.

He needed his son.

...

Damian couldn't sleep. The blankets were trapping, the dark suffocating. The wind from the window was bone cold, but without, the heat would burn. He groaned, threw the covers off and stood up. He walked to the door, opened it, and stepped out into the lightless hallway. He starting walking, lightly trancing the marks, scratches, and dents in the wall. He knew how each and every one of them came to be, yet none of the stories or memories made themselves known. His mind was blank. He walked slowly, staring at his hand. And then he stopped. He blinked to find himself in front of his father's door. The carpet was well worn here, after all, years of Robins and Batgirls standing there, seeking comfort from the demons that plagued them during the night has an effect of the flooring. Even the doorknob coloring was faded. He sighed, completing turning back before his need for reassurances won and he quietly opened the door. He stood in the doorway from a moment, letting his eyes adjust. He could make out the shape of his father laying there, almost lifeless, except for the subtle rise and fall of his chest. He then made out other, smaller shapes. He crept closer to see that they were Cain, Brown, Drake, and Grayson. He figured everyone needed reassurance tonight. He crawled into the tiny space in-between Cain and Father, settling in for a sleepless night.

...

Tim suddenly jerked awake. He blinked a couple of times then realized the surface he was laying on wasn't Bruce's bed. He lifted his head to see Jason shuffling him around so they would be more comfortable. Jason noticed him staring and looked down at him, giving him a small smile. But Tim could see the tiredness and pain hiding behind it. Tim looked around the bed to see that Jason was on the edge, next to Bruce who had Steph laying across his legs, sideways. Next to Bruce was Dick. On the other side of Bruce was Damian, who was secured in the arms of Cassie, who was pressed up against Dick. Tim sighed before curling into Jason's chest. At least they were together.

...

Cassie awoke to the sun in her eyes and someone running her fingers through her hair. She assumed it was Dick, then she realized Dick's back was to her. She sat up, careful as to not disrupt Damian and saw Bruce's blue eyes staring into her brown ones. She blinked, her mind trying to make sense of what she was seeing. Bruce smiled.

"Good morning, my shadow." Cassie gasped and moved to hug him. She nearly started crying when she felt Bruce's arm circle her. She broke the embrace to shake Dick awake. He waved her off then sat up and groaned when she elbowed him in the side.

"What in the name of...Dad?"

"Hey, Dickie."

"DAD!" Dick flung himself onto Bruce, waking up everyone else in the process. They all were cussing Dick out when they realized who was awake. They all paused, then rushed to hug Bruce, all shouting things. Bruce sat up, taking all the slightly painful hugs. After they calmed down, they started talking. They caught Bruce up on everything. Bruce nodded along with the almost nonsensical ramblings, storing it all in his brain. He was just glad that he was back.

...

Alfred watched all of this from the doorway, careful to stay hidden. He smiled, happy that his son was okay and delighted that his grandchildren were back to themselves. But he could also see the hidden question in Bruce's eyes. Why are they acting like this? I was only gone for four weeks. Alfred gave a bittersweet smile and answered the unasked question. We all need you, my boy. We need you more than you think. We need you more than you'll ever know. He then straighten his posture, put on a wise smile and opened the door fully.

"Now that we all have bombarded Master Bruce with more information than humanly possible, why don't we go eat? There are blueberry pancakes, bacon, and more waiting for you all in the kitchen."

Alfred had barely finished his sentence before he had to move to avoid being trampled. He walked over to the bed and offered Bruce a hand. Bruce waved him off, got up and stretched.

"Y'know, the way they act, it's like they hadn't eaten in a month."

"Well, sir, they are your children."

Bruce laughed and hugged Alfred.

"It's good to have you back, son."