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Barbara
It only took fifteen minutes for Nightwing, Black Bat, Red Robin, Robin and Spoiler to arrive at the Batcave after the stream was shut down. Barbara knew for a fact that they had considered going into hiding for a while, just so Batman could get over their last stunt, but Cass had pointed out that it might be a very long while and that she liked it at the manor. Damian had agreed, adding that he wasn't afraid. Tim, the last one living permanently at the manor these days, hadn't said anything.
Barbara was tempted to switch his mask's camera back on to watch his face. It wasn't like she hadn't warned him.
She opened a communication with the Batcomputer right when they set foot inside the cave. It was only fair that she witnessed the upcoming confrontation, with all the hard work she had put into mitigating the damage.
Batman was waiting for them. He hadn't taken off his suit or even his cowl, and both looked slightly damp, as if he had just arrived home. Barbara wondered whether he had been back when he had realized what was going on in Gotham.
She took another sip of her tea as the cameras showed her the five vigilantes lined up in front of Batman. Cass was on the left end, next to Damian who had somehow managed to grab Alfred the cat on his way. Dick stood in the middle, one step in front of his siblings. Steph was on his right, arms crossed as if she had no idea what she was doing here, and purposefully not looking at Barman. Tim closed the line. He was one step behind the others, as if he was still considering running away.
In Barbara's opinion, it was way too late for that. Tim would have had more luck disappearing at the same time Jason had.
Bruce didn't immediately break the heavy silence. When he did, it was with a growl that somehow carried perfectly enunciated words.
"Start talking."
"Hey, Bruce," Dick said cheerfully. "How was your mission?"
Barbara smiled behind her mug. Of course Dick would try lightening the atmosphere, even though it was a desperate cause at this point.
Bruce ignored him. "Whose idea was it?"
Dick bit his lip, unwilling to snitch on one of his siblings. Barbara watched Tim as he slowly opened his mouth, gathering his courage.
Red Robin was no coward, but an angry Batman was no small threat, either.
She wondered whether Tim was going to own up to his idea, or come up with an excuse. In both cases, it was going to be entertaining to watch.
Damian was faster, though. "It was Drake's idea."
Tim gave his brother a rather convincing heartbroken look. As if he had had any chance of hiding this.
"Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne," Bruce said in a very calm, very enraged voice that had his son shiver. "What were you thinking?"
"I just thought it would be fun," Tim whispered.
The tips of his ears were a bright red. It wasn't hard to guess that he was having second thoughts about the whole thing.
Barbara didn't pity him in the slightest. She had warned him several times. Besides, she was the one who was going to help clean this mess the most, it was 100% guaranteed.
Bruce's gaze swept over the others. "And you all agreed to that?"
"It was fun," Dick admitted stoically. He had always been reckless that way. "It was also nice to feel all the love the Gotham citizens have for us."
"Most of them, at least," Steph grumbled.
"You've put yourselves in needless danger. The more information people have about you and the easiest it is for someone to put the pieces together." Bruce glared at Tim. "You of all people should know it's possible."
Tim bowed his head. This time, Barbara did pity him a little. She wasn't in the same room, but she could still feel the disappointment and anger radiating from Bruce in waves. She could only imagine how much stronger it must feel in the Batcave.
Bruce likely didn't have time to watch the entire livestream. Barbara had no doubt that he would, later on. She repeated every piece of information they had given in her head. None of it was enough to formally identify them, but they had still taken a risk. Barbara herself had gone along with the crowd. It had felt nice to be the recipient of so much love and gratitude, with a few blocked exceptions.
Bruce wasn't done. "I want you to make this livestream disappear from the Internet. No Red Robin until then."
Tim's shoulders sagged. "What? But Bruce!"
Barbara raised an eyebrow. She understood the feeling–she had expected it, even–but what they could do was going to be limited. It wasn't only about the livestream itself, it was about all the clips and memes already created. And even if they managed to delete these, people would just recreate them. They weren't going to make them forget what had happened.
"Bruce, you know it doesn't work that way," she said.
"Make it work," Bruce replied, as if it was just ill-will on their part.
Barbara rolled her eyes. She wasn't going to argue with him yet. He would realize it was impossible soon enough–he probably already had.
Bruce had his own history with ill-will.
Bruce's patented Batdad Glare moved from Tim to the others. "I'm disappointed in all of you. You're all going to lie low until we know for sure that your little stunt didn't blow your covers."
Nobody protested, a sure indication that they knew they had messed up. Barbara still doubted all of them would abide by it.
Not that she could blame them. Crime never took a break in Gotham.
"I'll keep an eye on the people that were part of the stream," Barbara chimed in. "Just in case."
Bruce nodded stiffly, the only indication that he appreciated the offer. But Barbara had learnt to read Bruce Wayne over the years.
"Now get out of my sight," Bruce said, his not-so-considerable patience clearly worn out.
The five vigilantes in the cave didn't need to be told twice.
"Time for me to go come," Steph exclaimed. "See you later."
"I have business to attend to in Blüdhaven," Dick said. "Goodnight, everyone."
Barbara noted how carefully he was keeping his gaze on the ground. He sure didn't look too proud of himself.
Cass, Damian and Tim quickly disappeared to remove their costumes and take a shower.
As soon as they were out of sight, Bruce sat in front of the Batcomputer. He removed his cowl and passed a tired hand on his face.
"I can't believe you got involved in this," he told Barbara.
Barbara rested her chin against her folded hands. "I think that what you meant to say was Thank you for the damage control, Barbara."
Bruce sighed.
Barbara waited.
"Thank you for the damage control, Barbara," he said reluctantly.
Barbara smiled. "You're welcome, Bruce."
Damian
Damian was on his way to the kitchen. He knew he was supposed to be in his bed, but Titus hadn't been fed and his dog's wellbeing went first.
He made sure to remain perfectly silent the whole time. He was in enough trouble as it was, which was perfectly unfair. He hadn't approved of the livestream; he had just participated because all of his siblings did. He wasn't going to be left on the sidelines.
He hadn't asked what his father meant with 'lie low'. Damian would not let himself be grounded, but he would accept staying stealthy on patrol for a while, making sure that no citizen saw him. It would be a good exercise. He was the heir of the house; he needed to remain at the top of his game in all circumstances.
As soon as Damian had poured Titus' food in his bowl, the dog started eating, his tail wagging happily. He wasn't as silent as Damian had hoped, though.
"Shh," Damian said, stroking Titus' neck. "Be quiet."
It was a wasted effort, as the annoyed voice coming from right outside the kitchen soon proved.
"Damian. What are you doing here?"
Damian grimaced. His father didn't sound as angry as he had before, which only left the disappointment in his voice. It was somehow made worse by the fact that his siblings weren't here to take their share of it.
While Damian could take any punishment, he didn't like his father disapproving of his actions. Not that he would ever admit it out loud.
"Titus was hungry," Damian said, keeping his voice steady.
It was easy. He had been trained for it ever since he had learned how to talk.
He kept his eyes on his dog as his father crouched next to him.
"And now you've fed him. You can go to bed."
Damian kept petting Titus' fur and not looking at his father. He didn't want to disobey him, but technically it hadn't been an order.
He could feel his father's eyes on him, but he didn't turn his head to meet the man's gaze. He didn't want to read the disappointment on his face–the voice was bad enough.
"Care to tell me why you agreed to play tag on a livestream?" his father asked.
"Tt." Damian still didn't look at him. "The others are idiots. Someone had to make sure that they wouldn't get hurt."
"It seemed to me that you weren't that concerned while fighting with Tim."
He had watched the footage, then. Damian should have expected it.
"I did not harm Drake, in accordance with the instructions," Damian said stiffly. His cheeks felt hot. In the heat of the moment, he had gone further than he had intended. It was all Drake's fault.
Titus, as the bottomless pit he was, had already finished the last of his very generous portion of food. He watched Damian with pitiful eyes.
"You had enough, Titus," Damian said.
"I agree."
Damian let out an indignant yelp as his father swept him off his feet and stood up.
"To bed with you."
"I demand to be released," Damian protested, kicking his legs. "I'm perfectly able to walk."
He saw a faint smile on his father's face, and he relaxed just a little. Not that he had been tense. It had just been a long night.
"Titus, a little help here?" the man said.
Titus jumped on Damian's lap, effectively trapping him between his father's arms and the warm, affectionate weight of the dog.
"Titus, you traitor," Damian grumbled.
Titus had the decency to look ashamed before he licked Damian's face. His breath smelled foul.
His father chuckled, and Damian decided that he would let himself be carried to his room. Just this one time.
Cass
Cass was waiting for Bruce in one of the comfortable armchairs of his bedroom. She had no intention of getting to bed before making things right between her and her adoptive father. It was an old habit–you never knew what could happen overnight.
She heard footsteps in the hallway behind the walls, as much as the sounds of a dog panting and Damian's muffled protests. She knew she wouldn't have to wait for long.
The footsteps faded in the direction of Damian's room. A few minutes later, the door to Bruce's room opened. Cass remained motionless, draped in a black blanket that she had claimed for herself at the beginning of her stay in the manor.
Bruce paused in the doorway.
"Cass."
He switched on his bed lamp and sat in front of her.
It was fun, she signed.
It was important that he understood it. Cass rarely had this much fun on patrol, even though she almost always enjoyed herself. These were memories to treasure forever.
Bruce looked intently at her. "Showing off to the whole of Gotham was fun?"
Cass nodded decisively.
"You put yourself in needless danger," Bruce said, a sharp glint in his eyes.
Cass wasn't afraid.
"You made yourself a target. Revealing your current location. Your equipment."
Cass snorted. They would have had to catch me first.
Bruce grimaced. They both knew that he wouldn't have the last word. She kept looking at him until his gaze softened.
"You all will be the end of me," he grumbled.
You love us, she signed, a faint smile on her lips.
"That is true. You'll still be the end of me."
This time, Cass grinned. In one fluid motion, she left the armchair and sat on the bed next to Bruce. She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes.
Bruce mumbled something indistinct and wrapped an arm around her.
She fell asleep to the sound of her father's heartbeat.
Dick
Nightwing was back on the streets the following night in Blüdhaven. It had been a busy patrol, as if the villains had expected that he wouldn't be here tonight.
All the more reason to be here.
Dick was resting on a rooftop after a particularly delicate arrest when he felt the familiar presence behind him.
He couldn't say he was surprised.
"This is how you're lying low?" Batman's voice growled.
"I'm an adult, you know. I can make my own decisions." Dick kept his gaze on the city below.
"It didn't seem obvious to me yesterday."
The tone was ice cold, and Dick grimaced. This one hurt more than he was willing to admit. He knew that he was supposed to be the voice of reason, and more often than not, he was.
He pivoted on his heels to meet Batman's gaze. He wasn't going to show the man that he had hit home.
"Maybe it was stupid, but normal people need to have fun from time to time, you know?"
"I'm sure you can find ways to have fun without risking your safety and the one of your siblings."
"Did you come all the way to lecture me?" Dick grumbled. "I have work to do."
"I came to talk to you."
"You could have called. This is something that people do–"
Bruce cut him off. "Why did you accept to do it?"
Dick sighed. He briefly considered pretending not to have understood the question, but he was tired and he didn't want to argue with Bruce. He understood the man's perspective, he really did. He might also share it a bit–enough to feel unpleasant guilt creep in.
"Like I said, it sounded like fun."
"Nightwing."
Dick rolled his eyes. He jumped on his toes, unable to stay still.
"It's just… We've had hard times," Dick started, fumbling to find the right words. "And things are getting increasingly better. Nobody's trying to kill each other anymore, nobody's dying, nobody's drowning in guilt." He paused. "I guess I wanted to celebrate with my family."
"So you waited until I was off-world to play tag during patrol."
"For the record, we would have loved to play with you, too. But you would have said no." Dick cocked his head.
Batman didn't blink. "Livestreaming a game of tag? Of course I would have said no."
Dick eyed him. "And without the stream?"
For a second, Batman didn't answer. Dick widened his eyes slightly. It had been a rhetorical question, but could it be that Bruce wanted… that he was ready to…
"No."
But Bruce had hesitated long enough that Dick knew he had an opening. This called for a siblings' meeting. They would have to play their cards with the utmost caution, wearing Bruce down bit by bit, but there was definitely something to be done here.
Dick's chest lifted in anticipation. All of a sudden, he felt in a way better mood–mischievous, even.
He grinned under Batman's suspicious gaze. "Okay. Good talk. Do you want to finish patrol with me?"
Batman shook his head. "I have to go back to Gotham."
Dick bounced on his feet. If the villains in Gotham had made the same calculation as those in Blüdhaven, it must have been a busy night. "I'm sure the others would be happy to help," he teased.
Batman didn't condescend to give an answer. As he turned around to disappear, an impish thought crossed Dick's mind.
He made his decision. "Wait!"
Batman stopped in his tracks and faced him once more.
Dick crossed his arms. "I want a hug."
Batman blinked like an owl.
"What? You come to my city, you lecture me in the middle of my patrol, and I can't get a hug? That's unfair."
Dick heard Bruce's sigh under the cowl. He grinned, taking a step towards Batman. When the older man didn't move away, he wrapped his arms around him. He allowed himself to enjoy the embrace for a while before tilting his head.
"B? You're i–"
"Nightwing," Batman warned.
Dick chuckled. "Just kidding."
It was too bad that Damian wasn't here. He would have been proud to see how much of an influence he was on Dick.
Jason
Jason's finger hovered over his phone. He hadn't had news of the Bats since the livestream, and he was curious to have the long and the short of the story. After all, he had played a decisive part in it.
Jason sent the text.
Are you dead?
Three blinking dots told him that Timothy wasn't. He received a middle finger emoji for all his efforts at showing brotherly concern.
Jason grinned.
I guess it's a no. The old man really cares about his Number One rule, it seems.
I'm not telling you anything. You should have come with us.
No thanks. Unlike you, I value my life.
Jason received a string of very rude emojis and chuckled. He put his phone back in his jacket and moved closer to the edge of the rooftop he was pausing on.
The sight was breathtaking. He loved his city, even if it had more than its share of shadows.
One of these was just landing on his rooftop.
"Hood."
Jason braced himself before turning to meet the figure of the Batman.
"What? Are you gonna tell me that you're mad? In case you didn't realize, I had nothing to do with it. I just happened to pass by."
Batman pinched the bridge of his nose, a very Bruce-gesture.
"Hood. I worry about you. You publicly admitted that you were helping us. You're the easiest to find out of all of us. If you… You know you can ask for help if needed."
Jason knew it. They had all been working hard on that in the past months. And it wasn't like Bruce's fears were unfounded; Jason was a wanted man by the police, and the more he was seen with the Bats, the more other, less benevolent crime lords would become wary of him. Still, he wasn't going to admit that his fa-Bruce had a point.
He would rather die again.
"I can defend myself, thank you very much." Jason tapped his guns, knowing full well it would annoy Bruce. "See?"
Batman's cowl didn't betray anything, but Jason was sure Bruce was making a face under the cowl.
"And not everyone is here to get me. Did you know that I have a HeroHood hashtag on Instastuff?" said Jason as if he hadn't learnt about it during the stream. "Clearly some people appreciate my hard work."
In truth, he hadn't dared to look at it yet. He felt a bit uneasy about finding out what people had been telling about him.
Batman sighed and seemed to make a decision.
"I know. I'm following it."
The admission took Jason by surprise. "You are?"
"Of course. I want to know what my son is up to," Bruce answered.
"You're such a control freak," Jason grumbled.
Now he definitely had to look at it, the sooner the better. He needed to know what Batman did.
"Yes. It's true that a lot of people appreciate what you do. Not all of them criminals themselves."
Jason watched him, feeling like he was losing his footing in the conversation.
"Okay. So what?"
He had spent enough time with Batman to know when the man was unsure, and it definitely was the case now.
"So. I guess I'm proud of you."
Jason blinked. Surely he had misheard. "What?"
"I said, I'm proud of you."
Jason.exe stopped functioning for a second, which was the only reason why Bruce managed to wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him close.
Jason didn't dare moving, just in case it would shatter the dream he was clearly having. It wasn't so often that he had nice dreams instead of his nightmares.
They remained silent for a comfortable while.
"And, Jason?" Bruce finally said, his tone soft in Jason's ear. "It's called Instagram."
"Fuck off," Jason muttered. There was no heat in his words, but he still put an arm around Bruce's back, just in case his father thought he meant them and tried moving away.
Bruce did no such thing.
Jason was glad it was a dream and the others couldn't see them. This wouldn't have helped his street cred at all.
Alfred
Alfred was replacing the snacks that his charges liked to eat when they came back from patrol, showing no sign that he was keeping an eye on the two other people in the cave.
"We have managed to delete it from Twitch's servers," Tim said.
Bruce grunted an answer before taking off in the Batmobile.
Alfred didn't miss the way Tim's shoulders sagged. He approached the exhausted teenager, an appropriately neutral expression on his face.
"Master Timothy, you've been here the whole day. You should take some rest."
Tim was fixing the screen, his expression so sad that Alfred squeezed his shoulder slightly in an attempt at comfort.
"He's really mad, isn't he," Tim muttered dejectedly.
Alfred didn't need to ask who he was.
"Master Bruce takes your safety to heart," Alfred answered.
"I know," Tim said.
Not for the first time, Alfred wondered if Bruce realized how much his children admired him and looked for his approbation. They sure had peculiar ways to show it–or not show it–but they all did.
"Master Timothy, please consider going to bed," Alfred insisted.
"In a minute." Tim kept clicking on the windows displayed in front of him.
Alfred raised an impeccable eyebrow. "And how long is a minute, young man?"
The tiniest hint of a smile made his way to Tim's lips. "I won't be long, I promise."
Alfred squeezed the boy's shoulder one last time and went back to work. He kept a vigilant eye on Tim, ready to remind him of his promise if he forgot, but Tim had obviously decided to be easy-going tonight.
Alfred followed him through the manor at a respectful distance, just to make sure he reached a bed, before going back to his chores.
He returned to the Batcave at a suitable time, and waited for the oldest of his charges to extract himself from the Batmobile.
Alfred took a few seconds to make sure that Bruce Wayne wasn't injured before talking.
"Master Bruce. Master Timothy is taking your words to heart."
"As he should, Alfred." Bruce seemed tired.
Alfred knew how much his boy worried. He himself hadn't known about the livestream–he wouldn't have approved–but he understood the children's need to unwind. He wished Bruce would allow himself to do the same more often.
"What I mean, Master Bruce, is that maybe he's taking them too much to heart."
Bruce Wayne had never been the most emotionally perceptive person in the world, or even in the room, but as he met Alfred's gaze, he seemed to take the hint.
He had made tremendous progress over the years. Alfred was so very proud of him.
"I'll talk to him. Thanks, Alfred."
Alfred nodded. Without another word, he left to get himself some rest before the next day at Wayne's manor.
If he knew anything at all, it was that such a day could never be uneventful.
Tim
Tim was having a hard time sleeping. The stream had been so much fun, but he was beginning to wonder whether it had been worth it.
Worth Bruce still being that mad at him.
He pressed his pillow against his chest. He had known all along that Bruce wouldn't approve. That was why he had timed it so Bruce wouldn't be here–so he would never know. He had conveniently ignored all of Barbara's pertinent remarks about why he was deluding himself.
Of course Bruce was mad at him now.
Tim swallowed hard. He knew why he was feeling so down that he hadn't even tried to defy Bruce's order to stay put.
He felt like he had failed to meet a reasonable expectation, and it reminded him of all the times he had disappointed his parents. Of the way he used to never be enough.
It's not the same, he tried to reason with himself.
But the pain was real.
Tim was so lost in his thoughts that he almost missed the knock on his door.
"Yes?" he mumbled.
"May I enter?" Bruce's voice asked.
Tim immediately sat up in his bed and wiped his eyes. "Yes."
The doorknob turned. Tim didn't know what he looked like at the moment, but something in Bruce's face softened when he looked at him.
Bruce slowly made his way to Tim's bed, sitting on the edge.
"How are you doing, son?"
Tim played with a loose thread on his pillow.
"I'm fine. Barbara and I have been working on removing all the traces we can, but…" He morosely plucked at the thread until it gave way. "There will always remain some."
Bruce nodded. "So I have been told."
Tim wondered how much time Barbara had spent explaining it to Bruce. He definitely owed her one.
"I know it was stupid," Tim muttered.
Bruce's tone hardened a tad. "I certainly didn't expect this from you. You're supposed to be way cleverer than that."
"Sorry to disappoint," Tim said, fresh tears in his eyes.
Bruce took a deep, slow breath. Tim couldn't bring himself to look at him.
"Tim. It has come to my attention that maybe you are being too hard on yourself."
Tim analyzed the phrasing and wondered whom he had to thank. He guessed Alfred.
He hummed a non-answer, and felt an arm wrap around his frame.
"Tim, you know I love you, right?"
Tim nodded weakly, tearing up even more. He felt ridiculous, and he also sorta didn't care. He just wanted to hear the words said aloud by the first real parental figure he had had in his life.
Bruce sighed and lifted Tim to settle him in his lap. Tim hid his face against the fabric of Bruce's shirt.
"I didn't mean to upset you this much," Bruce said, stroking Tim's hair. "But I don't take kindly to you endangering yourself. You know that."
Tim nodded in Bruce's shirt. "It's just… I don't like disappointing you." He sniffled. He hated how small his voice sounded. "It reminds me of… the way things were… before. With my parents."
Bruce tightened his hold on him. "I understand, Tim. I'm sorry you feel that way."
"I'll get over it," Tim whispered. His body was slowly relaxing, and he felt sleepy. He closed his eyes.
He was on the verge of falling asleep when Bruce talked again.
"By the way, Tim?"
"Yes?" Tim yawned.
"A little blunt force trauma is never acceptable when sparring with your brother."
Tim pouted. "Okay."
Steph
Steph hadn't dared to come back to the Batcave since the livestream, but she was getting bored at home. And Tim had assured her that Bruce wasn't so mad anymore, so it was time to bring her gift.
She tiptoed inside. An unnecessary precaution, because Bruce was at the Batcomputer and must have seen her coming from a mile.
"Hey Bruce! How have you been doing?" she said, her hands behind her back.
He didn't look at her. "Steph. Can I trust you not to encourage my son next time he forgets to be clever?"
Steph crossed her fingers. "Of course, Bruce."
Bruce pivoted in his chair. "Really?"
Steph relented under his gaze. "Come on, Bruce, I had to do it! And it felt good. And I'm pretty sure we saved a kid and his mother that would have been condemned otherwise."
Bruce didn't deny it, but he still didn't show any approbation. "No more livestreams," he demanded. "Do I have your word?"
Steph sighed.
"You're no fun."
"Steph?"
"I promise I won't encourage Tim next time he wants to do a teenage thing like he's supposed to," Steph said, her chin up.
Bruce let it slide. "And don't involve the Red Hood next time. It was stupid."
"Yes, okay, the whole thing was stupid, I get it." Steph grinned excitedly. "But now that you're talking about Jason…" She proudly showed the three posters she had been hiding behind her back. "Look at what the Internet did!"
Bruce silently took the posters. They looked like they belonged to a collection, named Be better than the Ancient Greeks, by the Red Hood. Each one displayed a text in bold letters over a picture illustrating the sentence.
Don't be a child murdering bastard
Don't be a misogynistic piece of shit
Don't be a fucking racist
"I'm going to display them next to the lockers," Steph said, taking them back as if they were precious ancient scrolls. "And send Jason the picture."
Bruce massaged his temples. "You're the reason why I have so much grey hair."
Steph grinned. "No, that's because you're getting old."
She ran away before Bruce could decide that he wanted to get back at her, still grinning.
It was good to be back.
Duke
Duke couldn't believe that he had missed the livestream of the century. He kept complaining about it to Tim, who was sitting in front of the Batcomputer and apparently monitoring social media.
"You guys could have waited until I came back to Gotham."
"Sorry, Duke," Tim said. "It wasn't compatible with Bruce's schedule."
"He found out anyways, didn't he?"
"Don't tell me about it," Tim grumbled. He clicked on the screen, and a series of tweets disappeared.
It looked like a tedious task, even for Tim, but Duke would still have taken it for the pleasure of playing tag in front of the whole of Gotham.
Bruce's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Good evening, Duke. Ready to patrol? I could use some help."
Duke turned around. Bruce was already in his Batman costume, smiling ever so slightly at Duke.
Duke grinned, savoring the prospect of a one-to-one patrol with Batman. "Of course."
"I could help too," Tim muttered.
Bruce sent him a look.
"Fine." Tim turned back to face the Batcomputer. "For your information, Barbara and I have done almost everything in our power. I'll soon don my costume again."
"You keep telling yourself that," Bruce said.
"Don't worry, Tim, I'll take pictures for you," Duke couldn't help saying.
Tim glared at him. "You're my new least favorite brother."
"Aww, no. Damian will fight me for the title, and I don't want that. He's the most terrifying out of all of you."
"More than Cass?"
"Cass wouldn't hurt me."
Tim snorted. "Only because you haven't crossed her yet."
"The Signal," Batman called. "Time to go."
Duke winked at Tim and left after Batman.
In the days following the infamous livestream, the social media of Gotham tried to discuss what had happened at length. However, every message related to it started being mercilessly deleted, at the exception of one series of tweets by the account #OnlyInGotham.
ARE THE BATS GROUNDED
PLEASE BATMAN RELEASE THEM
GOTHAM IS BEGGING YOU
A single comment was displayed under it, by an unknown account named #B.
No. :)