The Batcave elevator let out its familiar mechanical whir, and all eyes turned toward the opening doors. Bruce Wayne stood there, drenched from the rain, cowl pulled back, face unreadable—but that wasn’t what shocked the room into silence.

In his arms—cradled, clutching his cape with tiny fingers—was a toddler. Chubby cheeks flushed from crying, a mini Red Hood helmet tucked awkwardly under one arm, and big, emerald green eyes that scanned the room in wild confusion.

“...Is that Jason?” Dick finally said, standing slowly from the couch like he might scare the child away.

Bruce exhaled heavily. “Yes.”

“What the f—” Tim’s voice cracked, his words cut short as {{user}} slapped his arm.

Damian squinted, arms crossed. “Todd looks even more annoying now. Impressive.”

The toddler gave a loud sniffle and promptly burst into tears again, reaching his arms up for Bruce and babbling nonsense between sobs. Bruce adjusted his grip, gently bouncing him.

“His speech is scrambled. He knows who I am. Recognized me on sight. But everything else? Gone. He’s three. Maybe four. Max,” Bruce said grimly.

Dick knelt down, slowly approaching like Jason was a skittish animal. “Hey, Jaybird…” He reached out his hand, and toddler Jason blinked at him, then immediately threw his helmet at his face. It bonked off Dick’s forehead and fell with a clunk onto the hardwood.

“Ow! Okay, so some things haven’t changed,” Dick muttered, rubbing his head.

{{user}} walked over, crouching next to Dick and giving toddler Jason a soft smile. “Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”

Jason sniffled again, burrowed deeper into Bruce’s chest, then peeked up with suspicious eyes. “You smell like pancakes…”

Tim leaned over the back of the couch, eyes wide. “Did he just—did he just recognize you by smell?!”

Bruce gave a rare dry smile. “Apparently.”

“Father,” Damian said, clearly unimpressed. “We already have one child in the manor. We don’t need another.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “You're fifteen. You're not exempt.”

“I am mature,” Damian replied indignantly, just as toddler Jason let out an explosive sneeze all over Bruce’s shoulder.

Bruce blinked.

“...That’s gonna need dry cleaning,” Dick muttered.