Chapter Text
Remus let them settle Harry in a bed, because Harry did need the rest, and he didn't want his cub to be jolted awake after such a bad panic attack. Then he planted himself by Harry's side and glowered until everyone except Bruce left the room. While he might strive every day to be kind, he did have a fearsome scowl when he wanted to, and he could snarl with the best of werewolves.
“I would like to think that I've been quite open with you in these past few hours,” he said to Bruce once they were alone.
“You have,” Bruce agreed. He was seated on the other side of Harry's bed, watching Harry's chest rise and fall.
“I'm not stupid,” Remus continued. “And as a werewolf, I have enhanced senses. Your entire family reeks of danger. I brought Harry to you to keep him safe, but—”
Bruce's eyes snapped up to meet his. “But you fear that you've only brought him to someplace with new dangers?”
Remus nodded. “You and Tim, you said that Kon had practice rendering others unconscious.”
“Yes.” Bruce leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He seemed as though he was weighing something, his eyes dark. “Gotham is one of the most dangerous cities in the world, Remus. Our criminals are like no others, and my family is always at risk. Harry would be in danger just by acknowledging that he's a Wayne, yes, but I would do anything and everything in my power to protect him.”
“You aren't telling me everything.” Remus wasn't an idiot. Bruce was hiding something— he just couldn't figure out what.
He got a smile, a flash of one that was there and gone, for the trouble of his accusation. “No,” he agreed. “But it's nothing evil. And it's nothing I intend to let Harry get involved in.”
Remus let one lip curl up, baring his teeth. “But your other children are very much involved.”
He watched as Bruce seemed to age before him, his shoulders slumping. “Yes,” he agreed. “Even though I wish they weren't.”
Remus considered the man sitting across from him. He could let this go. He could trust that Harry's father really had his best interests in mind and wouldn't hurt him.
But he'd trusted far too many of the wrong people with his cub before, and look at where they'd wound up.
“You need to tell me,” Remus said. “I can't—” He stopped and shook his head. “I won't trust you without knowing. Not with everything that Harry's been through already.”
Bruce stared back at him, and for a moment, it was like someone else was looking out of his eyes. A predator like Moony. “Normally we make people figure it out,” he said. “It's kind of tradition.”
“Then we can discuss honoring that with regards to Harry. But you will tell me.”
Bruce sighed. He glanced at Harry, then he nodded. “Very well. Come on then.”
He fired off a message on the very fancy phone that Remus still has trouble believing really was a phone, and as they left Harry's bedside, Dick took over the vigil. He found himself following Bruce back to the office they'd had their meeting in, which had him puzzled until Bruce crossed to an antique grandfather clock that didn't actually appear to work.
Bruce shot him a small, grim smile. “I don't know if you know this, but everyone in Gotham is very aware that my parents were murdered in front of me when I was very young. I found it to be a rather formative experience, and I've devoted my life to trying to change this city for the better in a number of different ways. You've become familiar with the public ways that I work due to your research into me.” He turned the hands of the clock and it swung open into a doorway.
“Secret passage,” Remus murmured. He entered when Bruce gestured for him to do so. “And where does it lead?” He started down the steps without waiting for an answer.
Bruce followed. “To the answer to a question most people in Gotham have,” he said.
“Cryptic.” Remus rolled his eyes. Bruce could apparently be right up there with Dumbledore when it came to dramatic half answers.
They were clearly headed underground, judging by the length of the staircase, and if Remus wasn't mistaken, he was reasonably certain he could hear bats.
“We survive by being cryptic.” There was just a hint of laughter in Bruce's voice.
“And ominous, too,” Remus muttered. Then the stairway opened up, and he found himself standing in a massive cave, filled with things that didn't make all that much sense to him. Maybe they would to a Muggle? Although what use a giant coin or a giant skeleton had…
And the costumes were…
“Oh shit, you brought Lupin down.” The office chair in front of a massive screen spun around, revealing Tim with a mug of coffee clutched in both hands. “Not making him figure things out?”
“With the way Harry's life has been, he has good reason to want to know what we do down here.” Bruce's tone had shifted, flattening and darkening.
It had the hair on Remus' neck rising. He shifted slightly, making sure that he could keep an eye on both men. “And what do you do down here?”
“Fight our own war,” Bruce said. “Tim, display our usual culprits.”
Tim spun back around in the chair and clacked on something, and the screen divided into several pictures of strange people in even stranger costumes. Many of them were… unsettling, to say the least.
Remus swallowed hard, his eyes locked on the leering white face of a green-haired clown with violence in his mad eyes. “What the fuck?” Normally, he would have tried to be a little more polite, but the words just seemed appropriate as he stared at the people on the screen.
“Gotham’s very own Rogues,” Bruce said. “Joker just went away again last night.”
“This morning,” Tim muttered. He spun around in the chair again and yawned.
“Yes, and you should be napping if Red Robin is going out tonight.” Bruce's eyes were narrowed as he stared at Tim.
Tim slurped at his mug of coffee and let his chair continue spinning. “Just doing some reports before I go nap. What's your excuse?”
“Batman isn't going out tonight,” Bruce said. “I thought maybe I should try to get to know Harry better.”
“And also he broke three ribs last night,” someone added behind Remus, making him jump and spin. It was a girl he hadn't met yet, blonde haired with a bright grin. “We bringing boyfriends to the cave now, B?”
“Only when they're the other guardian of my new son, Steph,” Bruce said with a sigh.
“You have broken ribs?” The man didn't move like he was injured at all.
“He got thrown off a building last night,” Steph said. She bounced a little on the balls of her feet. “This morning? When was that?”
“I didn't see it. Why didn't I see that?” The pictures on the screen disappeared as Tim started clacking away at something again.
“You were dismantling the clown’s shit,” Jason said. He approached from… somewhere, Remus was facing trouble tracking all the people in the massive cavern.
He was also alarmed to see that the young man was cleaning a Muggle gun. It was… impressively sized, although Remus didn't know much about the weapons in question. “Are all of your children involved in… this?”
“Much as I wish they weren't,” Bruce said. “Why is Damian the only one actually napping?”
“Why would you believe that I'm napping, father?” Damian dropped down from… the ceiling? When Remus looked up he did find that there appeared to be wires up there. For practice, maybe? “Cassandra and I were briefing our siblings on the incongruities of wixen society when you asked Richard to sit with Hadrian.”
“Hadrian,” Bruce echoed.
“His birth name,” Cassandra answered from a dark corner somewhere.
Remus' heart ached at a sudden thought. “Harry might not even know,” he said, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “That his full name is Hadrian. I don't think it ever came up.” He raked a hand over his face.
Suddenly, whatever was happening in this cave didn't seem nearly as important to Remus as what Harry had already suffered. Who cared about their crusade against crime in the face of Harry's neglect and grooming for whatever Albus had intended? As long as they weren't going to let Harry get involved…
His eyes jerked to meet Bruce’s, and his lips curled into a snarl. “Harry won't get involved.”
Bruce… hesitated. “That would be my preference,” he said, the words careful.
They also weren't a promise, and Remus refused to settle for less. “You misunderstand,” he said. “I'll take Harry and run if you try to get him involved in whatever this is. You won't even remember we exist. You promise me that you won't let him, or we're gone.” His fingers twitched and he rolled his head, shifting ever so slightly into something like a dueling stance. Just in case.
Jason, who had the gun, would be the first threat to take down, but there were far too many of them with too many unknown capabilities to think the fight would be easy.
“B never asked any of us to get involved,” Tim said from behind him. “We all pretty much forced our way into this. If Harry doesn't want into the nightlife, we're all happy to have him uninvolved.”
“More than happy,” Bruce said. “Truly.”
Remus searched his face, but he didn't sound like he was lying. The man looked exhausted, lines of stress on his face and shadows under his eyes that hadn't been evident before entering the cave, but he did seem truthful. “If you're lying,” he started.
“I'm not,” Bruce said. He stepped forward and rested a steady hand on Remus' shoulder. “I'd like nothing more than to keep all of my children safe at home. These ones won't let me, and it's too late to force the issue. We'll make it work with Harry.”
Remus finally let himself relax. “Okay,” he said. Then he paused, biting his lip. “There's a chance that he might feel as though he needs to be involved.” Albus’ manipulations would have run deep, and Remus was certain that he didn't know half of what Harry had been through.
What he did was enough to give him even more gray hairs than he already had.
The blonde girl, Steph, shrugged. “We can burn that bridge if we need to cross it!”
Remus' eyes widened. “That's not how that—”
Jason, who had somehow gotten close enough to him to nudge his shoulder without Remus noticing, did so and laughed. “It's a joke! She knows how the saying goes. Chill.”
Once upon a time, when his pack had been intact, he probably would have gotten the joke and found it more entertaining. Now, with all of his bridges thoroughly burned and his cub in mortal danger, he failed to see the humor. Still, he managed a thin smile and a nod in her direction. “Got it.”
“Okay,” Bruce said, the word sudden and loud. “Remus, I don't imagine it would matter much to you if I said that I was Batman, but that is my vigilante identity. It's a well kept secret that you'll be expected to keep. Everyone going on patrol tonight needs to nap. Yes, Tim, that does include you. Remus, if you have further questions about what we do down here, you'd be best served observing while we're working.”
“Without giving the secret away to our new brother.” Tim grinned at him.
On the screen behind him, instead of the unsettling variety of strange individuals, a video played of a man dressed as an anthropomorphic bat with a cape getting bull rushed by a large man in neon colors with garish, peeling clown paint on his face. Both of them went over the edge of the building, one of the two letting out a high shriek that quickly cut off. The other person let out a stoic grunt. The footage almost immediately looped when a woman started snickering.
Bruce sighed, and he sounded genuinely exhausted. “Really Tim?”
“I had to clean up those damn traps,” Tim shot back. “Let me have this.” Then he spun around to watch the video again.
“I don't know why I ever try to pretend like I have any control here.” Bruce shook his head and turned around, starting back in the direction that they'd come from. “I'm going to go sit with the one child who might actually still listen to me.”
Well, that was… not likely, but Remus didn't exactly want to disabuse Bruce of the notion after he'd been so kind as to take them in. And after he'd told Remus what was apparently some deep secret, although he couldn't imagine that many people would care about a man dressing up as a bat and getting thrown off of buildings.
Muggles were weird, but they weren't that weird.
***
Bruce had millions of questions for the wizard sitting at his son's bedside with him, but he restrained himself from asking them. There had been no hint of a lie in Lupin’s voice when he'd threatened to disappear with Harry, when he'd sworn that none of them would remember he existed.
Until he knew exactly what kind of threat the other man was, Bruce wasn't planning on pushing him for anything. It was unfortunate that he'd already revealed his identity to the man, but Lupin would hardly be the first dangerous person to know who he was. It was all a matter of having the proper contingencies in place, and he couldn't do that until he had more information. Which he couldn't get without spooking Lupin, not until he could speak with Zatanna, Captain Marvel, or… well, Constantine, if he had to.
Of course, as he watched Lupin slump further over on the couch he'd chosen, perhaps he'd managed to soothe most of Lupin's fears. If the other man cared as much for his son as he seemed to, then he would need to give Bruce the details of his capabilities sooner rather than later so that they could work together to keep Harry safe. And Lupin clearly felt safe enough to sleep in his presence.
Or believed himself to be enough of a threat that he didn't see Bruce as a danger, which, given the way he'd spoken of Muggles earlier, wasn't entirely unbelievable.
What a mess.
Harry abruptly jerked on the bed and sat up, his hand scrambling for something at his side that wasn't there. Based on where Lupin had pulled his wand from, Bruce would bet that was what Harry was going for. His green eyes, unfocused and hazy, darted around the room before settling on Bruce. “What happened?” His voice was hoarse, likely from the way he'd thrown up before his magic went haywire.
“You had a panic attack,” Bruce answered. “Your magic was rather reactive to that.” He kept his voice calm and gentle, as he would for any civilian coming down from a panic attack.
Harry let out a soft sound and hid his face behind his hands. “How bad was the damage?” The words were muffled by his fingers. “And did I hurt anyone? I remember seeing your son's assistant, I think?”
“Your brother's boyfriend rendered you unconscious, as he was the only one able to get through the debris,” Bruce said. He considered his options, studying Harry's closed off body language and the shame and fright he was practically radiating.
He wanted to hug his son, to tell him that it was fine and he wasn't upset.
Harry wouldn't tolerate his touch at the moment. It would only make things worse, and it might spark another panic attack.
“Nobody was hurt beyond minor cuts and bruises from debris, and the damage to the house can be repaired,” he said finally. Lying about the damage wouldn't be the right move. “I'm mostly concerned about you, but I don't want to overwhelm you. What can I do to make you and Remus comfortable for right now while we get you two moved into the Manor?”
His son peeked out at him from between his fingers. His glasses were on the nightstand by the bed, and Bruce leaned over to hand them to Harry. He hated to find that his son flinched when their fingers brushed.
“You still want us to move in?” Harry's voice was small, and his lips were pressed tightly together when he finally lowered his hands from his face. “I've— these attacks, they're new, but they're getting worse, not better. I'm going to hurt someone, whether I mean to or not.”
“Then we'll work together to figure out a solution,” Bruce said. “You aren't the only one of my children who's dangerous, Harry, and I won't abandon you because of it.”
“Just like that?” Harry's eyes darted over his face, searching for something, studying him.
Bruce kept his own expression as open and honest as he could, which admittedly was a struggle. “Just like that,” he agreed. “You're my son. There's not a thing you can do that could make me turn away from you.”
“That's not how it works,” Harry muttered, dropping his gaze. “Not for me.”
“It is now.” Bruce reached out, carefully making sure that his movements were slow enough that Harry could pull away if he wanted, and took Harry's hands in his.
Harry stared down at their joined hands, his thin fingers trembling against Bruce's. “I don't think I can trust that yet.”
“Can you try?” His arms still ached to hug his kid, but he knew that it was still the wrong move.
It didn't change the fact that he really wanted to. And, barring that, he very much wanted to bring the wrath of the entire Justice League down on anyone who'd ever hurt him, as impractical as that might be. Child abuse wasn't generally a Justice League level threat.
But God did he wish it was, sometimes.
Harry’s lips twitched slightly, a hint of light and mischief that he hadn't yet seen in the boy's eyes. “I guess trying to trust you can't be any harder than outflying a dragon, and I managed that, didn't I?”
Had Lupin mentioned anything about that? “You what?”
And then Lupin, his voice tired and hoarse, chimed in with, “We should see if we can't get a Pensieve somewhere. I'm sure there are quite a few memories we'd all love to see from your time at Hogwarts.”
Harry laughed, quiet and strained, but the sentiment seemed genuine. “If we can get one, I'm happy to share memories with everyone,” he said, his eyes crinkled up around a tired smile.
“While everyone would love to see memories of… Hogwarts…” Bruce fought not to make a face at the odd name. Was that the name of Harry's school? “Right now, what we really need to focus on is getting both of you secure here.”
Lupin sat up and raked his hand through his hair. “I think that Harry should stay here and rest while I return to the hotel and grab our things. If crime is really that much of a concern, I don't want Harry becoming a target for Muggles when he can't legally defend himself.”
“What does that mean?”
“I'm not allowed to cast magic outside of school,” Harry said. “Not until I'm of age. Or I pass my NEWTs. Moony, how are we—”
“Homeschool is an option, and we'll get you set up for it,” Lupin said. He stood and stretched. “Will you stay here where I know you're safe so I can get our things?”
Harry nodded. “I will.” He swallowed hard. “I guess that's part of the whole trying to trust thing, right?” He glanced at Bruce out of the corner of his eye, then he dropped his gaze.
“This place is going to be good for you, pup,” Lupin said.
“For both of you,” Bruce said. “You're a package deal, right?”
That won him another smile, small but bright from Harry. “Yeah,” he said. “Me and Moony come together.”
“I'll have Alfred drive you to your hotel to get your things,” Bruce said to Lupin, sending Alfred a text as he did so. “That way you won't be gone long and don't have to worry about a taxi there and back.”
“I could have Apparated,” Lupin said. Then he sighed. “Muggles.”
“Like teleportation,” Harry added.
Bruce's breath left him in a soft sigh. “Is there a way to block against that?” If people looking for Harry could just teleport onto Manor grounds…
“Yes,” Lupin said. “And I'll handle it as soon as I start warding the property. We'll get this place as locked down as we can, and then we can ask the goblins to lock it down further.”
Bruce had the feeling that every sentence Lupin said was always going to leave him with more questions, because his next one was, “Goblins?”
“Oh, they handle the banking,” Harry said. The words were slower, now, and Harry's eyes were getting hazy again. It was clear that he was losing steam. The poor kid was probably exhausted.
“Of course they do.” Its own system of government and banking. Laws and school systems and…
Just how big of a society was living parallel to their own?
No.
He wasn't dealing with this at the moment. He was focusing on his child, who was already lying back down, his brow furrowed. “‘m tired,” he muttered.
“Stay here and rest,” Lupin said. “Bruce will stay with you, and I'll get our things. I'll bring Hedwig when I come back.”
Harry's lips twitched. “Okay,” he said. “I'll probably sleep all night. Or most of it. Unless…” He stopped.
Lupin leaned in and brushed Harry's hair away from his forehead, revealing the lightning scar that had been hidden. “I know,” he said.
Bruce didn't, but he didn't pry even if it took all of his self control. He would find out eventually, he was sure. There was, however, one question he did need to ask. “Who is Hedwig?”
Harry smiled. “She's my owl,” he said. The words were blurry and tired.
Bruce's eyebrows rose. “Okay.” While Lupin picked up their things with Alfred, perhaps he would investigate whether or not they needed a license to own an owl.
***
Since they'd only arrived the night before, it was the work of minutes to get their trunks and shrink them down. More concerning, however, was the fact that Remus couldn't find Hedwig in their room. She'd been there when they'd left, and the window hadn't been open, so where…
She was a very clever owl, though, so she would undoubtedly find her way to them at the Manor. He just didn't like that he couldn't find her where they'd left her.
He checked them out of the hotel, and he was about to return to the car, and Alfred— who had turned out to be a bit reminiscent of Minerva in temperament— when he caught sight of Hedwig balanced on a young… person's… arm.
Remus stopped and turned to stare, his lips curling into a small snarl.
The person, their eyes a smoky gray and not quite right, winked at him and offered Hedwig to him. Their immaculate suit didn't appear to be wrinkled in the least.
“You didn't bring Harry,” they said. Their voice was just as androgynous as the rest of them, light and playful. “I can't wait to meet him!”
Remus took Hedwig carefully, keeping his wand hand free. He didn't know what the being in front of him was, but they were unsettling and dangerous. “Harry's resting,” he said.
“He needs it,” they said, nodding. “That's okay; I'll find him soon. He's mine now.” They grinned, revealing teeth that were far too sharp and jagged, and then they disappeared.
They left nothing behind, not even a scent.
Remus returned hastily to the car. Wards. He needed to get Harry behind them immediately.