I was tryna make a prompt and ended up with this–
"Bruce," Tim said, sitting across the table with his mug of coffee, staring at Bruce who was still eating his breakfast.
"Yes, Tim?" Bruce shot him a glance.
"How come you never eat ketchup?" Tim asked. Bruce paused midbite. Tim looked curious if anything. The sound of Alfred washing Tim's plate had paused too, he noticed.
"Hm?" Bruce gave him a confused look, "I do?"
Tim shook his head, "No, you don't."
Bruce felt desperate. Tim wasn't supposed to notice. Noone was supposed to notice.
"I do." Bruce said, his voice sounding weak to his own ears. A frown took over Tim's face.
"No, I noticed, you always avoid ketchup. It's never even on your side of the table. Why are you lying?"
Liquid dread filled Bruce as he tried to scramble his brain for an answer.
"I don't like it that much." Bruce replied. Something in his voice made Tim pause. Instead he glanced at Alfred.
"Master Tim, would you like to give us a moment?" Alfred asked.
"'Kay" Tim tilted his head before his eyes jumped back to Bruce– Bruce didn't just flinch, did he?
"Did any of you notice Bruce never eats ketchup?" Tim chimed up in the living room, earning himself varying kinds of looks.
"Still haven't given up on stalking, have we?" Jason replied from another side of the room.
Tim rolled his eyes, "I was not a stalker. And this is important."
His tone stopped Jason from quipping, instead he narrowed his eyes over the book he was reading.
"Important, how?" Dick asked, propped on another couch with a video game console.
"I asked Bruce this morning why he never ate ketchup, the way he reacted seemed concerning," Tim replied.
"Concerning?" Damian repeated, "What was concerning about father?"
"First of all, he refused to admit it. Then he said he didn't like it. Then Alfred wanted to have a talk with him and asked me to leave them alone. I'm positive I saw Bruce surpass a flinch," Tim informed them.
"Finch? Father??" Damian frowned.
"Over ketchup? Sounds excessive," Jason commented.
"Shut up, Todd," Damian scowled at him.
"I feel like there's something here we don't know about," Tim emphasised.
"He does not stay," Cass said suddenly, drawing everyone's eyes, "during cream fight we do on birthdays."
Duke tilted his head, "I always thought it was because he didn't like getting cream on his dress."
"No." Cass shook her head, "On dress? Okay. On him?" Cass made a cross sign with her hands and shook her head.
"You're saying he's uncomfortable with cream?" Stephanie concluded. Cass nodded.
"Now that you mention it," Dick said, "Doesn't he remove cream from cake or things before eating?"
"Yeah," Jason agreed with a frown, recalling memories, "I think he does that."
"Does he offer you all his raisins too?" Duke asked. Others exchanged looks.
"He does..." Dick frowned, "Which is weird because why would he pick raisins out of his pudding?"
"To avoid eating them?" Stephanie offered. Another round of exchanging looks.
"He avoids oysters too." Tim added, "They were in this one gala I attended with Bruce, I swear Bruce looked like he was offered poison when the waiter offered to serve him oysters."
“He avoids peaches like they personally offended him,” Stephanie said.
“He looks like he'd rather starve than eat when he is sick and has to eat porridge.”
“I don't think I've ever seen him eat dragon fruit,” Dick offered.
“What are we doing here? Naming foods we never seen Bruce eat?” Jason raised an eyebrow.
“No, more like naming foods he seems to have some beef with,” Duke replied.
“Huh.” Jason grunted, frowning.
"What does it all mean?" Damian, who had been listening to others, questioned.
“We don't know…” Tim said, “...yet.”
“Wait, if it means Bruce has–I dunno–some problem with certain foods, why weren't we told?” Dick questioned.
“Okay, yeah,” Jason agreed, “I mean– if we ask him to come with us to like share oysters with him, we'd look like assholes, won't we?”
“You're already an asshole, but point taken,” Tim replied. Jason threw a pillow at him.
“And if Bruce has problems with certain food, why didn't Alfred make alternatives for him?” Stephanie wondered.
“Does he know?” Jason shot back, giving him the benefit of doubt.
“He raised B, he should,” Tim countered.
“Should and does are different things,” Jason pointed out.
“Okay, Alfred's parenting is whole another discussion,” Dick held up his hands as Tim opened his mouth, “What do we think it is?”
“Can't be food allergy, right?” Stephanie said, “That would've been fatal.”
“Right,” Tim nodded, “Sensitivity of some kind? Or just dislike?”
“Bruce went over the world, would he have survived with such sensitivity?” Duke questioned, “Not to say he doesn't have it.”
“He definitely knows how to shallow up his discomfort,” Tim replied grimly. Cass nodded in agreement.
“I’m positive he didn't tell us for some stupid reason like ‘not to burden us’ or something,” Dick said, frowning.
“Or he was made to think it was something to overcome?” Tim wondered, “I mean, high society is ruthless.”
Others exchanged glances.
“Okay, so now the question is what do we do with this?” Damian asked, “How do we help father?”
“We ask him,” Stephanie replied.
“And avoid giving him those foods?” Duke added.
“Great,” Dick clasped his hands, “I guess we have an agreement and a course of action.”
It always went unnoticed. Of course, because Bruce intended it to. He was good with acting, exceptionally so. He had mastered the art of subtlety. So obviously noone noticed when he'd carefully avoided certain food.
It went unnoticed the way he never touched ketchup. The way he picked raisins out of his pudding and warped them in a tissue to throw away or to give his kids. Or the way he carefully removed cream from cakes and gave them the raisin treatment before eating. Or the way he avoided oysters. Or the way he was always out of the room when everyone tried to get creams on one another. Or the way he didn't touch Alfred's custard with various foods.
Yes, all of it went unnoticed. Bruce had learned some things were not to be noticed. Sensory sensitivity was one of them.
Long ago, he had once told Alfred he wouldn't eat a dish because it gave him an 'ick'. Alfred gave him a disapproving look and told him he needed to get over it. That he needed to 'broaden' his palette. That he was a growing boy and he needed to eat different things.
Bruce didn't eat then. He stormed off to his room. Bruce was stubborn but oh dear, so was Alfred. Three days into it, Bruce gave up. He gulped down the weirdly textured dish, pushing past his tears and the gagging feeling at his throat that threatened to out the food. He felt horrible for days afterwards.
Anytime Bruce rejected a dish, it led to the same old argument and he got tired of it pretty quickly.
So he learned to act. He learned to hide. He learned to lie. But he was only 9.
He knew, at the end of the day, Alfred wanted the best for him. He knew how the high society saw such things as ‘sensitivity’ with vitriol– like it was something lowly. He knew Aflred knew it and Alfred wanted the best for the Wayne heir. Maybe that's where it went wrong. Because Alfred raised the Wayne heir. Not Bruce Wayne. Not the kid that lost his parents in front of his eyes. Not the kid that had sensitivity issues. Not the kid that was lost, lonely and grieving.
And Alfred's stubbornness did help him during the time he was out in the world, training in different countries. He didn't have much choice of food did he ever? he had to eat whatever he had in hand. Whatever needed to survive.
He ate things he detested. Textures, smells, that made him extremely uncomfortable to almost close to vomiting.
He never threw up– Alfred trained him better than that. He knew how to live with the discomfort. And in all honesty, discomfort wasn't the worst thing he had to live with.
He did make one mistake– he thought it would go away with time, as Alfred said. The discomfort would fade if he broadened his palette, if he got over his 'childish fear' and tried it. Only it never happened. The discomfort and the disgust for certain things remained. If anything, it only strengthened over time.
When Bruce came back, it was the same dance again. It was like falling back into an old habit. Like putting on an old shoe that fit perfectly but wasn't comfortable. Bruce pushed on. And it was going okay until–
“Why don't you eat ketchup?”
Bruce could feel Alfred's eyes boring on his back as he tried to deny the claim. But Tim was a detective. He had a keen eye for things. Bruce felt drained, tired as Tim went out, knowing the argument to come.
They had an agreement and a course of action. First part was fine but the second was an exaggeration. Cause noone fucking knew how to bring it up.
It was after patrol, everyone was cooling down in the cave. Bruce typing away on the batcomputer and other exchanging glances behind his back. Even Duke had come down after some hours of sleep, acting like it was normal.
“Hey, Bruce,” Jason finally broke the silence, he could be blunt, “What's it with you and ketchup?”
Bruce's typing stalled for a second, only a fleeting second before resuming. Anyone else would've missed it, but not a room full of detectives/vigilantes.
“Nothing.” Bruce replied normally. Jason glanced at others as if saying ‘will I need to dp all the work?’
“It didn't look like ‘nothing’ this morning,” Tim chimed up.
“Tim,” Bruce tone was warning.
“Bruce,” Tim replied with just as stubbornness.
“You never eat cream either,” Dick said.
Cass almost narrowedly missed the shiver in Bruce's body, the twitch of his eye and lips. But he schooled his expression just as fast.
“What are you all doing?” Bruce asked, his hands still hovering over the keyboard but he wasn't typing now.
“Naming foods that seem to offend you?” Stephanie said dryly.
“We're trying to understand,” Dick said.
“It's nothing,” Bruce said.
“Oh, please,” Dick rolled his eyes, "You raised a bunch of detectives, you think you can get away like that?”
“Yeah, it's like an insult to both our and your own skills, B,” Duke added.
“Do you have food allergy?” Tim said, “No, that would've been serious. Sensitivity of some kind?”
“It's nothing,” Bruce sounded impatient, “Stop trying to make it something! I'm fine. Go to bed.”
“Well, how about you stop trying to cover it up?” Dick shot back, he stormed to Bruce’s chair and swung it towards him, staring at his eyes “If you don't eat certain things, that's okay! We just don't want to be handing you things you don't or can't eat!”
Bruce pursed his lips, then his shoulders slumped.
“It's not what?” Dick demanded.
“It's not okay as you put it.”
Dick looked like he had been smacked.
“Bruce,” Tim took over, “You never made us eat something we don't want to. So you know it's okay.”
Bruce simply stared at him blankly.
“No, no, no,” Jason cursed under his breath, “You can't say it's okay for us but not for you.”
Dick glanced back at Bruce, “Is it true? Is that what you think!?”
“Don't ‘chum’ me right now!”
“Dick, calm down,” Tim and Duke dragged him away from Bruce.
“How!? Did you hear him!?? He isn't even countering it!!”
“Dick!” Tim yelled at him, then lowered his voice, “Calm the fuck down. He grew up in the fucking high society. Do you know how they treat thing like this!?”
Dick promptly shut up at that. Tim, without a doubt, had better experience with what that was like.
He turned to see Cass snuggling on Bruce's side. Half to calm him down and half so Bruce couldn't stand up and march out anytime.
“Change of question,” Stephanie said, “Why do you think it's not okay?”
Bruce shook his head, “It's none of your concern, any of yours,” his eyes flew over everyone.
“Dad,” Cass murmured softly against his shoulder, “Your discomfort is our concern. We love you.”
Bruce stared hard at his hands.
“Father,” Damian finally spoke up, “Who or what has made you think we won't support you? You always support our palette, albeit not when we're being unhealthy. But you supported me when I turned vegetarian, even went to certain lengths when eating outside. I would like to support your choices and so would others.”
“I'm not getting out of it, am I?” Bruce glanced at their faces.
“Nope,” Jason replied, shaking his head for emphasis.
Bruce sighed and leaned back against the chair. A moment of silence passed. Then–
Silence for another second
“You have…" Tim asked, "...texture sensitivity?”
“Yes," Bruce nodded curtly, "Sometimes the smells too. Mostly the texture. The things you all listed,” Bruce vaguely gestured at them, “I can't– I mean, I can eat, but I'd rather not. I can't even look at peach's seed or date seeds they're just– ughh," Bruce shivered a little, "And ketchup is another step further– both its smell and texture throw me off.”
The confession was met with momentary silence.
“See, it wasn't that hard,” Stephanie broke the silence, clasping a hand on his shoulder and smiling at him “Now we can avoid triggering your smell and texture sensitivity.”
“We'll need a list of things that trigger it though,” Duke said. Cass smiled against Bruce's neck and nodded.
“Great, we can put up a list together,” Tim added. Dick hummed in agreement. Damian looked satisfied.
“What made you think you had to hide it anyway?” Jason questioned, a hand on his hip,.
“Yeah, I sure would like to throw some hands,” Stephanie muttered.
“And don't think she'll be alone,” Dick added.
“Seconded,” Tim and Duke said at once.
“I'd prefer you don't,” Bruce sighed.
“As long as you know now you don't have to hide and that we support you,” Cass said, smiling.
“I do now, sweetheart,” Bruce pressed a kiss against her hair, wondering why Alfred couldn't.
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Sensitivities mentioned are from experience. And so is the urge to hide. Cause I've met too many people who take 'I don't like it' as an answer but flip when told 'I can't eat it because of my smell/texture sensitivity', then they're like 'you need to broaden you palette!'(fucking tired of this one) or 'you haven't even tried it!'(yeah, I hope I don't ever🙄)
Also, I don't know much about Bruce's palette, so if I put his fav food in it, I do apologise. Anyway! Be supportive of your friends/family with sensitivities! Hope you enjoyed.🫶
