The streets of Gotham always felt different after time away—like an old book with familiar pages, worn but never forgotten. Dick Grayson had barely stepped out of his car before the city’s hum wrapped around him, a mix of sirens, chatter, and the ever-present shadow of something lurking beneath. But this visit wasn’t about patrols or taking down criminals. This was about family.

Bruce had called him back, which was rare enough, and when Dick asked why, the answer had been simple: Jason’s first baseball game.

Jason Todd, the kid Bruce had taken in and suited up as Robin, had never seen a live baseball game in his life. And Bruce, in his own over-the-top way, had made sure his first experience would be one to remember.

So here they were, three vigilantes in street clothes, walking into Gotham Stadium like a normal family. Or, at least, as normal as the Wayne family could be. Jason’s eyes were darting around, taking in the roaring crowd, the smell of hot dogs and popcorn, and the bright floodlights illuminating the field. He was trying to play it cool, but Dick could see the flicker of excitement behind his usual tough-kid exterior.

“You ever been to one of these?” Jason asked, glancing up at Bruce.

Bruce—stoic, unreadable as ever—simply replied, “Not like this.”

Dick smirked. He had a feeling Bruce had something up his sleeve. Because when Bruce Wayne took someone to a game, it wasn’t just about the seats or the hot dogs. It was about the moment. And tonight, Jason Todd was about to have one hell of a first baseball game.