Little Bat đŚ
Characters: Damian Wayne & Dick Grayson
Tags: family, fluff, de-aged, brotherly love, faith crisis, fear, identity issues.
Damian Wayne was not afraid.
He had been turned into a childâby Gotham's witch, Poison Ivy. The meta-human had made a potent floral de-aging serumâand in the heat of battle, one misstep had led to it. He was exposed to the toxin, but not enough to turn him into a literal baby. No, he was in the small body of a preschooler.Â
His father, Bruce, was working on an antidote alongside Alfred.
Damian was no snot-nosed brat.
âWichard?â the little boy squeaked out, then cleared his throat, cringing. His older brother, ever the ray of sunshine, perked up like a dog. âRichard, how long till Father has the antidote?â
It had been three days since heâd been like this.
Damian's mind was fuzzy, his tongue heavy, and for some reason he craved comfort.
Maybe it was because his bed was too big and his sheets were cold.
The loud, thundering downpour never scared him; if anything, he had embraced it. But with his new senses, it suddenly frightened him to go to bed alone. To be alone. Unable to sleep, even after counting sheep, he came in search of his brotherâthe idiot would glean at the chance of mothering him.
âHe's gonna have it a few days, buddy,â Dick said, smiling gently. He looked at the boy as if he were something precious. He was not. âCan't sleep?â
Damian suppressed a yawn at the question, fiddling with the hem of his slightly oversized Batman pajama top.Â
âI came to get a glass of milk,â Damian replied, resisting the urge to rub his eyes. âAnd donât call me buddy.â
âSure thing, Dami,â the older man said, getting up and patting the couch he sat on. Damian sighedâit was better than âBat baby,â which was what his teenage brother Tim had called him when he saw him. âI'll be right back.â
Small feet pattered toward the couch. It was much more effort to sit on or get onto anything in his shape. His feet couldnât touch the ground when he sat.
The little boy hooked one leg over the other and hummed when he caught sight of a black book on the armrest. Intrigued, he opened it, and to his surprise, he couldnât read.
He traced the inscription on the hardcover; the words felt familiar. Leaning back, he wonderedâif Richardâif he could ask his brother to sleep in his room, or to stay by his side until it felt as if there truly was no monster lurking under his bed.
Damian Wayne was not afraid.
âI've got your milk,â Dick said, voice light and cheerful like home. âAnd a snack. Your favorite.â
âTt,â Damian blinked. âBrother, I might have the body of a child, but even I know better than to bring someone ice cream for a bedtime snack. How is that helpful?â
âIt isnât, but itâs your favorite, right?â the dark-haired man smiled, putting the tray down: milk, strawberry ice cream with whipped cream, and Alfred's chocolate chip cookies. âBesides, you donât have to eat it. There are cookies if you want.â
Damian knew Richard was trying to comfort him.
âI'll take some cookies then,â the boy said, taking the tall glass of milk almost clumsily. âWhat is this book youâre reading, Richard?â
Dick's eyes darkened, but his lips didnât falter. âThe Bible.â
He perfected his maskâyet his eyes held the weight of years of sorrow and trauma. Clouded with grief, a broken shell, shattered, hidden withinâhe yearned for more, for anything, for God. Or so he thought. Maybe⌠that was what he was missing. He had tried everything, he had wealth. He tried women, alcohol, parties, isolation, drowning himself in his workâbeing a hero.
It felt like his whole life he had been digging a pit for himself.
ââichard? Richard,â Damian called out, milk mustache on his mouth making Dick's heart squeeze. The green-eyed boy dusted the crumbs off his bat themed pajama pants. âThe ice cream is going to melt. Eat.â
The boy was cute when he wasnât acting like a brat.
Little Bat, he kept that one for himself. Though he was still youngâfifteen years oldâDamian had tough walls to crack, his heart that needed time and care to soften the hard edges.
Dick scoffed, taking the small bowl, and shoved a spoonful of strawberry ice cream down his throat. Sitting across from his baby brother, he didnât miss how Damianâs shoulders tensed when the thunder clapped.
The fireplace cracked pleasantly as he watched his younger sibling cosy himself further into the couch. Mindlessly, Damian flipped the pages of the Bible until a bookmark fell out.
âDo you actually read this? I didnât know you were religious.â
âIâm not,â Dick replied quickly, as if offended, and almost choked on the sugary treat. Then he added, âI just read it sometimes. Just the Psalms. I relate to David⌠especially to that one author in Ecclesiastes. But itâs just literature to me.â
Dick noticed how Damian kept blinking; the boy was fighting sleep.
âHn,â the youngest hummed but said nothing.
Dick believed in a higher being.
How could he not, when gods like Superman and Wonder Woman existed?
There had to be someone looking out for him all these years. He may have been broken, but he was not utterly consumedâand that counted for something. So maybe, just maybe, there was someone greater than an alien god out there.
Someone who cared, he thought somberly.
âDami?â he called out, but the four-year old had drifted away, curled on the couch. Dick couldnât help but coo. He wanted to take a picture. âWhereâs my phone?â
He searched in his jean pocket but couldnât find it, and deflated. âBummer. Guess Iâll capture it with my brain.â
Dick set the ice cream aside without a thud, but Damian woke, sensing his movement. Blinking owlishly, the child slowly sat up and thought, screw it. âRichard, I need your assistance.â
âSure, kiddo,â Dick said, all too happy to oblige. âWant me to carry you to your room?â
Damian desired nothing more than to be held for some reason. The side effects of the drug were getting stronger by the day, and he felt like he had less control over himself as time ticked. âNo, I want to sleep in your room.â
He had to hold himself back from crying or picking the kid upâit was a mixture of cuteness-aggression, and his fatigue. âOf course.â
âTt,â the preschooler said, smelling the emotion oozing from his older brother. He saw the way his blue eyes glossed over. Damian was the mature one of the two, he concluded. âLet's go, Richard.â
Damian Wayne was not afraid.
But he currently felt the safest in the hands of his older brotherâlonger than he had in a while. There was something vulnerable in allowing yourself to be cared for. It was like trusting your soul to the other person. And in Richard's hands, the boy felt the warmest.
But that was just his four-year-old mind talking.
After that Damian fell asleep snuggled close to Dick, almost becoming one with his skin.Â
âNight little bat,â he whispered to no one.
Dick was in awe. He couldnât rest now; he wanted to savor this moment heâd never have again. Plus, with his nightmares, he didnât want to disturb the child by accident.
His fingers stroked Damianâs dark curls.
Dick couldnât make out the boyâs features in the dark, but he remembered how flushed his cheeks were earlier from exhaustion. The little knitted brows were relaxed, and his lips slightly parted. Dick wondered how he could snooze so soundly.
Albeit, he was using the man as a heaterâit warmed his heart that Damian found security in him.Â
Psalms 27:10 Though my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will receive me.
A/N: Already out on Ao3! (@ 4thouglory)
Not me having to do research cause I want to write a batfamfic but don't know the characters well enough. I don't go in great detail btw just searched basic stuff I wanted to know. Like favourite foods, or if Damain says, please and thank you etc. This is low-key from how I read about them in fics, so fanon?
I tried. I was super into teen titans as a kid but like yea that's all. Been reading kidfics of Batfam lately and I wanna make it Christian themed. I low-key didn't want to stop! I had to write the cuddle scene cause they're so cute!
08 Feb 2026 â God bless ya ;) take care.
