Chapter Text
“This is ridiculous” Damian grumps, following behind Dick as they headed up to the spacious attic of Wayne Manor. The manor had been added onto, renovated, and occasionally nearly entirely rebuilt over the two and a half centuries it had stood in Bristol overlooking the city of Gotham. The attic did not span the entirety of the uppermost floor of the house, but it certainly covered a significant portion. Furniture, artwork, decorations, and a multitude of other detritus that generations of Waynes deemed too important to get rid of was packed into the ballroom sized space. Even Alfred could not keep the dust from settling in the room. Damian wrinkled his nose at the smell of mothballs and stale air.
“The entire holiday has been stripped of all meaning and is just an excuse for children to partake in junk food. It seems to be a pattern with American holidays. Besides, I predict there will be at least one major rouge attack on the day so I don’t see what the point of participating in social activities that will just be interrupted.”
“It’s fun Damian!” Dick said, throwing open the doors of an armoire and beginning to rifle through the jackets hanging in it. “The rest of your class will also be dressed up. It’s the only day of the school year you don’t have to be in uniform. Why not take advantage?”
“Woah, now I can see why Bruce is such a hoarder” Stephanie says, wandering in behind them. Tim and Cas following behind her and peering around in the dim light cast through the door and high round windows. “It’s genetic, you might want to watch out, Dami. If you feel the urge to start hanging onto old newspapers, seek help.”
“The only thing Father hoards is common urchins.” Damian sneers.
“I don’t know, she kind of has a point.” Tim says. “I don’t think Bruce ever throws anything away. There are filing cabinets down in the basement with actual paper files from before Dick ever put on green shorts. Not to mention all the various case memorabilia he keeps lying around.”
“He just luckily has an enormous house with the space to indulge his hoarding habits.” Stephanie gasps, “Oh no! The animal hoarding! It’s already begun. Quick, someone call A&E!”
Damian throws a batarang at Stephanie, which Cass plucks out of the air before it can strike.
“No.” She says waggling the weapon scoldingly at Damian who scowls at her.
“TT, Father keeps records and trophies of his successes. That is simply good practice. Though I suppose it would not be amiss to have something of a rubbish clear out,” Damian says looking around. “ Get rid of anything useless or unwanted.” He eyes Tim meaningfully.
Tin casually flips him off and feels along the wall. “Here we go.” He finds a large, ancient looking breaker switch which he pulls with some effort, the rusted metal groaning. A green glass chandelier, looking rather more shabby and cobwebbed than the one in the entrance hall glows to life.
“Be nice, Damian.” Dick says, pulling out a burnt orange blazer. “Yeah, we probably could stand to get rid of some stuff, but in the meantime, there are tons of stuff that can be used for costume components! I dug up some of my original Robin costume up here, you know.”
“You put on scaly green panties you found in an attic and thought, ‘ ah, yes, the perfect thing to fight crime in’?” Stephanie asks in disbelief.
“It was a leotard! It allowed freedom of movement. It wasn’t too far off than what I wore in the circus. And I had leggings on underneath.”
“You were wearing second hand panties. Oh god, now I have to wonder why Bruce’s family bought and then saved green panties.”
“I can’t believe that Jason didn’t change the outfit when he became Robin.” Tim said. “The first thing I did was add pants.”
“Wait, wait, wait, was the outfit Jason wore the same one you got out of the attic? Were they third hand panties?” Stephanie looked horrified at the thought.
“No, the suit was replaced several times. The original one I put together didn’t fit very well and once I wore Bruce down to let me actually go out on patrol, we made a more durable one. Nothing on the flexible Kevlar based fabric we have now, of course.”
“I have been shown many pictures of your deplorable fashion choices, Richard. The original Robin uniform and the so called ‘discowing’ suit were neither tactically advantageous or aesthetically appealing. Which makes me skeptical of any ‘costume’ you offer me.” Damian glares at the orange blazer with marked distaste.
“Hey! My uniform now looks good!”
“Yeah, cause Barbara designed it.” Tim said.
“She advised on my designs.”
“She was afraid of what disaster you would strap yourself into next.” Stephanie said.
“Alright, we aren’t here to drag my past fashion choices. We are here to find Damian a costume!” He flourishes the burnt orange blazer. On closer inspection it had a subtle scarlet check pattern to it. “You could be a clown!”
The other four heroes stared at him in abject disbelief.
“What the hell, Dick?” Tim stated in bafflement. “You have lived in Gotham over half your life, what on Earth would make you think that is a good idea?”
“Technically, I lived in Bloodhaven-”
“Clowns aren’t even allowed within the Tri County area! There was a motion to ban them from the state of New Jersey!”
“Really? That explains that message I got from Ava-”
“There isn’t a single person in the city who doesn’t have some sort of clown based trauma-”
“Okay, okay. I get it. Sorry, dumb suggestion.” Dick put the blazer back. “You know, not all clowns are like that. The ones at the circus were really nice. One of my babysitters was a clown. She taught me to juggle. Joker is spoiling an entire ancient theatrical art. I bet he didn’t even go to clown school.”
“Yeah, I am pretty sure clowns were considered creepy even before the Joker was around.” Stephanie said. Cass nodded in agreement. “Don’t like the faces.” She says. “Look wrong.”
“The last time I dressed up for Halloween, I went as a black cat.” Stephanie said, pulling out a 1920s flapper dress, the beaded fringe clinking. “Though, I didn’t end up going out cause Scarecrow gassed all the public transportation. And Calendar Man kidnapped a bunch of people and dressed them up like classic movie monsters.”
“Oh, I remember that,” said Tim. “Wasn’t his best work, to be honest. I don’t think there was even a bomb involved.” He wanders over and opens what looks like a World War 2 navy steamer trunk.
“A cat is a good costume, very classic. You could match Alfred, Damian.” Dick says.
“Father’s paramour dresses as a cat. No thank you.”
They all make a face at that. All of them had caught Bruce and Selina making out at some point. Usually in costume. It was a scarring right of passage for all of Bruce’s children.
“I guess I didn’t realize how hard it would be to find a non triggering Halloween costume in Gotham.” Dick said. “No clowns, cats, scarecrows, plants of any kind, zombies, crocodiles, owls, or penguins.”
“Or bats.” Tim adds.
“Oh man, you should totally be Batman!” Stephanie says. “Baby bats! It would be so cute!”
Cass restrains Damian from attacking Stephanie.
“Baby Bats, no.” She says stroking his hair.
“It would be cute, but somehow I don’t think Bruce would go for it.” Dick says.
“Well, why can’t he go as Robin?” Stephanie says. “They sell plenty of cheap knock off Robin costumes. Lots of kids, especially in Gotham, are Robin for Halloween. I would bet an entire box of Eggos that Tim dressed up as Robin for Halloween.”
“I never did Halloween as a kid, but I did patrol as Robin on Halloween several times, if that counts.”
“Let's say it does cause I am not actually giving up my waffles.”
“Do none of you imbeciles understand the concept of a secret identity?”
“You could wear my old costume!” Dick says with glee.
Damian did not dignify that with a response. He instead stalked away through the maze of clutter.
“Well, somebody was in the navy.” Tim says pulling out a uniform. Cass immediately stole the hat and popped it on her own head.
“Or put on a performance of Hello, Sailor,” says Stephanie.
“It could be both things.” Dick says, abandoning the armoire to open some plastic totes that looked more like they had been added in the last thirty years. He pulls out a child size dark gray cape and matching fedora. “Oh, hey, Dami, this would fit you. Not sure what you would be though.”
“Noir detective?” Tim suggested. “Just would need a trench coat. He already has the world weary attitude.”
“I think his attitude is more world war-y.” says Stephanie. She had found a vanity with drawers full of costume jewelry. She put a tiara with gaudy red glass stones on her head and took out her phone to take a selfie. Cass squishes in next to her face to get in the shot.
“I have no desire to look like that fool Constantine.” Damian sniffs, re-emerging from the shadows. None of the others startle much to his suppressed disappointment. “However, I have discovered a suitable guise.”
He presented his findings to the others. They stared.
“Seems like it might be a bit big.” Says Dick doubtfully.
“I am sure Pennyworth will be able to adjust it appropriately for my stature.”
“I feel like this might be culturally appropriative.” Tim says.
“Nonsense, it would only be so if I was wearing one of the cheap mass produced versions and no knowledge of the history and significance of the role.”
“Good choice.” Cass said firmly.
“Thank you, Cassandra. As usual, you show the most good sense of our associates.”
“Family, Dami. We are not associates, we are family.” Dick said wearily.
Damian sniffed dismissively then sneezed from inhaling dust.
“Oh my god, Damian sneezes like a kitten!” Stephanie’s eyes lit up. The other three siblings all grinned planning to incessantly tease the youngest about this for the foreseeable future.
---
Several days later, Bruce sat at the breakfast table nursing a cup of coffee as Alfred got breakfast ready and his children currently staying at the house trickled in. Duke had his blazer and tie off and slumped in his chair blinking blearily. Cass was meticulously peeling an orange. Tim stumbled in, carrying a laptop, which he sat carefully down on the table before collapsing into a chair and dropping his head onto the table with a groan. Dick emerged wearing faded Superman pajamas that were slightly too short for his limbs.
Alfred had just brought the serving dishes to the table when Damian marches in. Bruce looks up from where he had been idly scrolling through the news on his phone, and stares.
Damian was dressed in full samurai yoroi with a hakama underneath. There was a familiar sheathed katana at his waist. His hair not long enough for a traditional topknot, was nonetheless slicked back away from his face. The backpack with cat keychain he carried with him looked incongruous.
“Happy Halloween, Dami,” Dick said smiling. “Alfred, you did a great job with the tailoring.”
“Thank you, Master Richard, It was a rather interesting challenge.”
Tim cracked open one eye. “Are you really planning to take a real sword to school with you?”
“Of course, it would not be accurate without a blade.” Damian said sitting down.
“Damian, what have I said about taking weapons to school?” Bruce asked.
“They should be able to be well hidden, but, Father, it is a holiday. If the school bends their dress code policy for the day, shouldn’t you also make an exception?”
Bruce stared hard at his youngest and debated. He sighed, “Just please don’t take it out of the sheath at school.”
Some battles even Batman wouldn’t fight.