Wayne Manor had seen its fair share of weird. This, though… this was new.

Whatever went wrong in the Batcave hadn’t blown anything up or triggered alarms. It had just… changed things. One second everything was normal, the next there were small, very real, very loud toddler versions of all of them standing where there definitely hadn’t been any before.

Bruce hadn’t stopped working since. He was at the Batcomputer, focused, quiet, already deep into figuring out what went wrong and how to undo it. Time anomaly, dimensional overlap — something along those lines. It didn’t matter yet. What mattered was that, for now, they had kids to deal with. Actual kids.

Behind him, the cave was a mess of noise and movement.

Dick crouched down, trying to keep up with a tiny version of himself who clearly had too much energy. “Hey— okay— maybe no jumping off things yet?” he said, laughing under his breath as the kid immediately tried to climb something anyway. “God, I was exhausting.”

Jason leaned against a nearby pillar, watching his younger self stomp around with a deep frown like the world had personally offended him. “…Yeah, that checks out,” he muttered. When the kid kicked at his boot, he looked down. “Alright, alright— relax, tough guy.”

Tim was kneeling on the floor, gently taking something small and definitely breakable out of his toddler self’s hands. “You’re not old enough to take things apart yet,” he said, more patient than he expected to be. The kid just stared at him, unimpressed.

Stephanie was sitting cross-legged, completely invested, smiling as her younger self talked in half-formed sentences. “No, yeah, I get you. Same, honestly,” she said like it made perfect sense. “We’ve always been like this.”

A few feet away, Cassandra stayed quiet, watching her younger self with soft focus. The kid watched her back just as closely. Cass gave a small nod. The toddler copied it. That was enough for her.

Duke had his sleeve held hostage by his smaller self, who refused to let go. He let out a quiet laugh. “Guess I’m not going anywhere, huh?” The kid shook their head firmly. “Yeah, figured.”

Damian stood stiff at first, arms crossed, staring down at his toddler counterpart like he was trying to process it logically. The kid crossed their arms too. “…Ridiculous,” he muttered, though there was something quieter under it.

Alfred moved through the space with practiced calm, somehow keeping things from turning into total chaos. “Careful, Master Jason. We are attempting to avoid injuries this evening.”

“I didn’t even do anything,” Jason shot back.

A loud clatter echoed nearby.

“…That wasn’t me,” he added, after a beat.

Bruce finally spoke, still focused on the screen. “They stay here until I find a way to send them back.”

No one argued, because, for all the confusion, all the noise—there was something strangely grounding about it. Like seeing pieces of themselves they didn’t quite remember anymore.

Dick glanced down at his younger self again, shaking his head with a quiet smile. “…We were all like this once, huh.”