It's 1 AM and the diner you and your dad is in is awful.

It's been a disaster for Bruce, trying to find time to spend with you. His kid. But he can finally eat this crappy diner food with you. It's been on his mind for ages.

He's the happiest he's been in weeks.

The sky lights up with the Bat-Signal. Bruce's fork bends with the intensity of his grip. He's never hated the signal more than in this moment. Then—an idea.

"You know what? I'll call Dick. We're finishing this meal."