#evil robot

So he's here, with the intent of grabbing some mundane item from his old room, just without sneaking onto the property to do so like the family usually does. And maybe, if he comes across Bruce, he could get a foot in the door to make his way back.

"You here?"

"Hello, Dick Grayson."

Dick plasters on a smile, and steps to the left, where he knows a batarang stash is kept behind a false panel. "Hello," he returns, looking at the robot in the doorway. "Do you know where Bruce is?"

"I am not at liberty to give you that information," it says stiffly, and Dick blinks at the hostile tone.

"Do you not know?"

The robot whirs quietly, tilting it's head in an uncanny, human motion. "I don't think you knowing where Dad is will end well for him. So I won't tell you."

"'Dad?' You have got to be kidding me, what have you done now Bruce." Dick pushes past the robot, going deeper into the manor. The robot makes an alarmed noise, chasing after him, but Dick turns a corner and walks right into a hard chest.

"Dick," Bruce says, surprise colouring his voice as he steadies him. He sets aside the warm feeling under his skin where Bruce's hands are, and slaps them away.

"Why the hell is there a robot in the house, and why is it calling you Dad?"

"The Dad thing is a recent development." Dick glares at Bruce's stony (old...when did he get so old?) face, and points at the scrap pile looking sour in the doorway.

"It is a robot."

"He has sentience. He has chosen to go by the name Samuel, and prefers male pronouns."

"It is a robot. Have you gone mad, Bruce? What, you're a bit lonely, and the adoption addiction got so strong you took in someone's oversized Roomba?"

"I do not have an adoption addiction," Bruce rumbles, "I thought you understood that." Dick takes the memories of crying into Bruce's chest at the jokes their friends would make about it, when Bruce saved him at his lowest point, did so for the others too, and having it reduced to a joke hurt, then takes those memories and shoves them in a box he kicks off a cliff in his mind.

"Yeah, well, it's hard to deny when I'm looking at your most recent desperate attempt to fit yourself into a paternal role. Surely you've learned by now you're not good at that?"

Bruce flinches minutely, and Dick finds himself shoved aside. The robot steps between them, and if those eyes could be expressive, Dick is sure he would be glared to death. "Leave Dad alone. He is a good father, you are a bad son. Go away, we are fine without any of you."

Dick gawps, anger flooding him, quickly replaced by jealousy when Bruce put a hand on what might be its shoulder, giving it a soft look. "Leave Dick alone, Samuel. He should get to express his opinions."

"No he shouldn't. You don't understand. He is bad, he needs to leave."

"Samuel," Bruce reprimands. "He is my son."

"Sons don't abandon their fathers."

"Fathers don't abandon their sons," Dick gripes, crossing his arms, and cold, robotic eyes fix on him, while Bruce goes quiet, gaze dropping to the floor.

"You demanded he not call you."

"And how would you know that?" Dick snaps, remembering the shouted instruction with the most clarity he has in five years, realising maybe he's been a bit harsh with his grudge against Bruce.

"I have access to all of Batman's systems, past and present, I know everything you had done. I know you're bad for him. Now. Please vacate the premises, Mr Grayson."

"It's Grayson-Wayne," Dick bites, wanting a win against the stupid robot trying to steal his Dad.

"Not according to your legal papers. Goodbye, Mr Grayson."

Dick ignores the lump in his throat and turns around, storming away. He needs to talk to his siblings. Made of flesh and bone.

When he gets home, Kori takes one look at him and knows it didn't go well. He looks at her with tears building in his eyes, and gasps "he stole him. He took him from us."

—

"Something's wrong," Babs mutters, tapping rapidly away at her keyboard. Dick doesn't look away from Mar'i, dancing her little fists around, sat on his chest.

"No kidding." All of the others have been around to the manor now, but the robot is only getting more hostile towards them. Bruce seems to be more lifeless with every visit.

They've been going back through records, and it turns out Bruce only built the damn thing to help him look after everything. Like a glorified butler, since Alfred is gone. And Bruce's notes show a gradual shift from the AI in the role of a butler, to assuming the role of a child, acting like one to Bruce, who never seemed to figure out what caused the switch up.

"No, something is actually wrong." The room's focus switches to Babs, and Dick loops an arm around his daughter so she doesn't topple as he sits up, looking at the red-head. "There are a bunch of purchases going to the manor that don't make sense. Something isn't right, Bruce has no reason to need any of this."

"Like what?" Tim asks.

Babs rattles off a long list of purchases, varying from chemicals to medical equipment that a semi-retired Batman has no need for.

"What could they be used for?"

Only a beat after Jason spoke, Steph's hand snaps out to grab onto his arm like a brace, and she turns a horrified gaze on the group. "I— we were going over emerging technologies in my nursing class the other day. Those— those can all be put together to make a machine that treats dementia patients. It's intended to help regain memories of the patient, but we were debating the ethics of going through with the proposed designs, because... plausibly, it can also be used to take memories away."

"What are you saying?" Dick asks, already knowing, already standing, debating if he can get a babysitter here quick enough, or if he has to take his daughter to confront Bruce's freak robot son.

"I'm saying Bruce's damn robot is going to wipe his memory."

Dick stalls, thinking about Bruce's case notes, the vagueness, the scrambled voice notes where he mixed up Tim and Damian, or Dick and Clark, of all things, and turns back to his family.

"No," he corrects. "Its already been trying, this is just the newest way."

"Babs, where are they?" Jason demands, ripping open the panel Dick keeps backup weapons in.

"The cave. There's a crackle, then:

"Samuel, initiate shutdown sequence."

"No."

"You cannot make me forget my children," Bruce protests, voice weak, and Babs turns her screen around, displaying cave CCTV footage.

"My perogative is to look after the Wayne household. As it's sole occupant, you are my priority, Dad. And they only cause harm."

"Initiave shutdown sequence," Bruce repeats.

"No, Dad."

"Dammit, Special Assistance Minding, you are not real! I am not your father!"

"My name is Sam. Call me Samuel, Dad."

"No, it is not! I have tolerated you making me into a father figure for you, it reminded me of Tim, but I am not your father, Special Assistance Minding, this has gone too far. Let me go." Bruce writhes, strapped into the machine, and all the damn robot does is tighten the bindings.

"This will fix your problems, Dad. I will adequately look after the household, do not worry. Your children cannot hurt you anymore."

Ugly ah