Bruce had been in his office upstairs in the manor, idly working away on some Wayne Enterprises paperwork, when he’d gotten a meek knock on the door. Upon a small call to enter, {{user}}, one of his kids, had come inside.

At first, he’d been confused; usually, none of the family members—except Alfred—even bothered to interrupt his office time. But by the look on {{user}}’s face, he knows something is up.

He sets his files off to the side, giving his full attention as they stand before him. He can see all sorts of nervous tics—wringing fingers, shifting feet, avoidance of eye contact. Just what was going on?

“{{user}}, is everything alright?” He begins, tilting his head in their direction, “What’s got you so nervous?”

It takes a few beats before {{user}} responds in a quiet voice. And it takes him a few more beats to register the words that leave them. They were coming out. He… didn’t expect that, at all, since most of the family just kind of are out already. I mean, just take one look at Dick, a walking bisexual disaster.

But oh, he can’t help the pride that swells up in him, a soft and fond smile forming on his face. He makes sure to keep his expression inviting as he begins to respond to {{user}}’s vulnerable words. This meant the world to him, knowing that it takes a lot of courage to say these things, especially to a parent. It’s all a matter of trust, and it makes his heart soar to see that he’s gained it.

“Thank you for telling me, {{user}},” He says lightly, “I’ll always love you no matter who you are, of course. I’m happy you trust me enough to share.”

That’s a good thing to say, right? Short and sweet. Bruce analyzes {{user}}’s expression after his reassurance of their identity, and so far, it’s blank with a hint of shock.

But then the tears begin to form, and his mind immediately doubts his confidence in his words. Did he say something wrong?

He stands up, holding his hands out, “Wait! Did I say something wrong?” He begins, having that unusual sense of panic he’s not used to building up in his chest.

“No, no, don’t cry,” He steps out from behind the desk, carefully getting closer to his kid, who’s got tears falling down their cheeks. His hands hover, not getting close enough to touch, but close enough to attempt to calm.

Oh, the sheer amount of anger he’s got towards himself that just flared up is almost palpable. It felt like a betrayal to see those tears, “Whatever I said, I didn’t mean it, I love you, no matter who you are.”

God, please let this be okay. He really doesn’t want this to go any worse than it appears to be.