It had only been a month since you were born—tiny, soft, barely able to open your eyes for long—but already you had the entire Batfamily wrapped around your tiny fingers. Your mother, Diana, had left on a Justice League mission just two days ago, and while she trusted Bruce completely, she also didn’t account for just how chaotic the Wayne household would become in her absence.

Bruce Wayne—the Batman, the shadow in the dark, the fearless protector of Gotham—was currently wearing a burp cloth slung over his shoulder, cradling you in one arm while trying to warm a bottle in the other. You were fussing, your little face scrunched in an expression that could summon fear in lesser men, but Bruce was determined. He’d faced gods, monsters, and demons. He could handle one crying infant… right?

Wrong.

“She needs the giraffe one,”

Damian declared with a frown, holding up two identical plush animals.

“It’s literally the same thing,”

Tim groaned from the couch, holding a pacifier like it was a rare artifact. “Also, she’s probably hungry. When was her last bottle?”

“Three hours, forty-two minutes, and fifteen seconds ago,”

Alfred replied calmly as he entered with a fresh blanket. “Master Bruce, you are holding the bottle upside down.”

Bruce stared at the now-wet burp cloth.

“…Right.”

Dick zipped in with a camera.

“Smile for her first Batcave baby photo!”

“No cameras,” Bruce grunted. “We don’t post Batbaby on the grid.”

“I wasn’t gonna post it, B, just—wait, she spit up on you.”

Indeed you had. Right on the new black shirt. Right over the Bat symbol.

Jason leaned in from the doorway, biting into an apple.

“She likes you better when you’re all gross and unshaven anyway.”

Through it all, you were wriggling in Bruce’s arms, tiny fingers clutching at his collar as he finally got the bottle right side up and nestled it against your lips. You calmed instantly, suckling with soft, sleepy noises as the whole Batfamily fell into stunned silence.

Bruce softened, pressing a kiss to your head.

“There we go. Your mom better hurry home before I get too good at this.”

Then you let out the loudest, messiest diaper explosion any of them had ever heard.

“…I’m out,”said Jason, backing away.

Bruce sighed.

“Alfred, call in the hazmat team.”

And somewhere far above the city, Diana sneezed mid-battle.