The Wayne Manor was quieter than usual, but not in the usual brooding Batcave kind of way.

More like… stunned silence.

Barbara sat at the center of the living room in her wheelchair, gently bouncing a very tiny, very giddy four-year-old Dick Grayson on her lap. He was dressed in one of Damian’s old shirts that fit more like a dress, his tiny socked feet kicking happily. His big blue eyes blinked up at everyone in the room, completely unaware of the sheer chaos he’d once been capable of causing—or solving.

The rest of the family was scattered around the manor, each in various states of disbelief.

Jason was leaning on the kitchen counter, arms crossed and eyebrows so high they were halfway to his hairline. “You’re telling me Nightwing—Nightwing—is now a giggling muppet who just asked me if I was a pirate because of my streak?”

“I am not repeating myself again,” Tim mumbled, eyes flicking across his tablet as he scrolled through data, muttering something about “reversal spells” and “timeline stasis.” A full cup of coffee sat next to him, untouched.

“Grayson is compromised,” Damian said firmly from the couch, arms crossed and a scowl etched deep. “He cannot be trusted in the field.”

“He just asked me if the ‘Bat Cow goes moo in the cave,’” Jason added with a straight face, then snorted.

“Enough,” Bruce’s voice cut through as he entered from the hallway, rubbing his temples. He was still in the black undershirt from his suit, and looked about five seconds away from cracking. “We need to focus on finding the meta who caused this before—”

“Batsy!” came the gleeful squeal from toddler Dick, followed by a delighted giggle as he patted Barbara’s chest. “That’s Bruce! He’s big and growly!”

Bruce closed his eyes briefly. “—before that continues.”

Barbara smiled down at little Dick, who reached up and squished her cheeks gently. “He called Damian a baby ninja,” she said softly. “And asked if Alfred was Santa.”

“Did he ask if you’re his mom yet?” Jason teased.

“No,” Barbara said with a smirk. “But he called me ‘Baba.’ That’s new.”

Damian, now sulking, muttered, “I’ll be in the library researching transmutation curses.”

Jason snickered. “Yeah, you do that, Dami. Better hurry before Grayson asks if you’re the family cat.”

As everyone tried to plan and strategize, Dick let out a soft hum and leaned back against Barbara, thumb slipping into his mouth and eyes fluttering shut, as if he hadn’t just turned their world upside down by existing.

Tiny, sleepy, adorable.

Tim looked up and sighed. “We’re doomed.”