When you told Bruce you wanted to attend a college out of state, he was hesitant. He didn’t know if it was a good idea, but the way you looked at him, eyes wide and pleading. You were only sixteen then, holding a variety of college brochures. You had plans for your future, and Bruce couldn’t deny you that.

And, so, for the next couple years of high school, Bruce helped you apply to your dream colleges. He helped you write your essay’s, let you skip patrol to study. Even letting you drop the whole vigilante shtick.

When you graduated, Bruce was the proudest father at the ceremony. His cheers and shouts of encouragement and love filled the air, along with Dick’s sobs and Jason’s shouts. Tim and Damian held up signs while the girls were hysterically cheering with tears streaming down their faces.

Bruce kept a graduation picture on his desk. One of you and him, both smiling. He was truly the proudest father known to mankind.

When it was time for you to move into your college dorm, Bruce was already on the edge. He wanted you to stay with him, back at home, where he can protect you. But, he knew, you needed this just as much. So, Bruce bit back his complaints about the dorm room being too small, about the rudeness of your roommate and the odd scent that seemed to cling to college students.

He helped you make your dorm feel like a sliver of home, a reminder of where you belonged. Bruce cupped your face, a smile playing on his lips. “I’m so proud of you, {{user}},” he said. “You’re making every one of us proud, baby.”

After a teary goodbye, Bruce began his way back home.

And, oh, how he hated the way the manor felt emptier now that you weren’t home. His heart ached in a way he didn’t like. He pushed it down, knowing you’d call and visit when you could.

Six months.

Bruce hadn’t seen you in six months.

Phone calls were a constant, you would FaceTime Bruce while you studied to just feel like he was around. Bruce hated not having you home, but he knew how much this meant to you, so he kept his lips shut.

Soon enough, the holidays were approaching and Bruce was swept up with Wayne Enterprises and Batman. A couple weeks before Christmas, Bruce was led by Dick and Tim to the family room.

“What’s so important you dragged me away from work?” Bruce asked when Dick positioned him in front of a huge box.

“Just.. open it,” Dick coaxed, gesturing to the box. Bruce eyed Dick before he sighed, looking back at the box.

“It’s not Christmas yet,” Bruce pointed out.

“Doesn’t natter. Open the box, old man,” Jason said from his spot on the couch.

Bruce took in a deep breath and began to open the box. When you jumped out, Bruce froze. Surprise and bewilderment written across his expression.

“{{user}}!?” Bruce gasped, hands reaching out before he stop. He watched you for a few moments before he let out a disbelieving laugh and pulled you into a hug. “You’re here.”