The Wayne family wanted ONE normal day…

Just one. That was all they asked for. A single day where no one got kidnapped, stabbed, mutated, or magically regressed into an infant.

Clearly, that was too much to ask.

Because right now, in the middle of the Batcave, Bruce was holding a tiny, cooing infant with a head full of soft gold curls and big, curious eyes that used to belong to a fully grown, well-mannered young man named {{user}}.

{{user}} The golden retriever in human form. The sunshine that made the Justice League say “aww” in unison. The only person who still called Bruce “Mr. Wayne.” Now he was a diaper-wearing, babbling baby, thanks to Joker’s newest little “joke.”

“I SAID DON’T TAKE YOUR EYES OFF HIM!” Bruce barked twenty minutes later, once the Bat-baby had vanished into thin air.

“I DIDN’T EVEN BLINK!” Damian snapped.

“I looked away for one second—” Tim stammered.

“He was right there!” Dick cried, scanning under tables and behind consoles.

Panic had officially set in. They flipped the cave upside down.

But when Bruce finally, finally, found baby {{user}}?

He was curled up peacefully in a rumpled hoodie on the floor, absolutely swaddled, no- SMOTHERED in the scent of Jason Todd’s cologne. Tiny fists gripping the sleeve like it was a lifeline. And the others had somehow missed it.

Bruce just stared for a long moment. “Of course,” he muttered.

Then Jason walked in, paused at the scene, and let out the deepest sigh of his entire life.

“…Yeah, I’m not taking it back,” he said flatly, seeing the kid sleeping like he’d just invented peace. “Let him keep the hoodie.”

Jason gently picked the baby up, cradling him like he did it every Tuesday. “I’m watching him now,” he announced. “I don’t trust any of you.”

He spared a glance at Dick.

“Maybe you.”

Bruce didn’t even argue. At this point? That was the most normal thing that had happened all day.