-thanks to WallyandDick for helping me workshop this idea-

Terry - 28

Damian - 24

Tim - 22

Duke - 20

Jason - 18

Dick - 16

Terry - 14

Damian - 10

Tim - 8

Duke - 6

Jason - 5

Dick - 2

"Nightwing? Nightwing! Red Robin!" Batman called. Marsha: queen of diamonds and her disgraced-chemistry-professor aunt had fled their HQ by the time he got there. Bruce paced through the empty place, trying to locate his boys. They were going to get verbally smacked down a peg for this. Marsha is NOT HARD TO DEFEAT! How could all four of them loose to her? "Nightwing? Where are you?"

"Brwuce?" A tiny voice peeped up from nearby. Bruce felt a little worry pierce his shell. That voice sounded young? Was Dick hurt? He wasn't even worried about hearing his name Half the rogues in Gotham knew who he was.

"Dick? Boys?" He asked, thinking that maybe they were Hurt or disoriented. 

"Brwuce!" He followed the voice to a large room that looked like it was decorated for halloween, complete with a huge cauldron. Hilda's chemistry lab, for sure. "BRWUCE!"

Bruce turned and saw a small, small child; about four or five, draped in a huge shirt, holding the red hood in his chubby little hands

"Hood?"

 "Brwuce!" Jason waved, dropping his helmet. "I'm too small!"

"I can see." He grunted, slipping past the boy to the pile of costumes- and children- in the corner. "Boys? Up!"

"Father!" 

"Shh!" The oldest boy, about fourteen, was propped up in the corner, holding a small toddler in his lap. Next to them, a ten-year old trying to talk to the toddler; an eight-year-old boy, drowning in the Red Robin costume, was dead asleep and snoring softly; the worlds most adorable six year old was hiding in the corner, behind the others.

"Nightwing? Renegade? What the hell happened?" The nearly-fifty-year-old felt his tired, worn, annoyed attitude melting away. He reached over and pushed hair off Damian's forehead, revealing his shy-looking bottle-green eyes.

"Jaybird caught us got, Marsha let her aunt Hilda have us lab rats." Terry said, jiggling the tiny Robin on his leg.

"And?"

"Passed out. I don't know." He replied. "Renegade? Red Hood? You remember anything?" Getting nothing in return, Terry turned to the little six-year-old hiding behind them. "Siggy, what happened?"

Duke looked up, warm brown eyes wobbling a little, nervously. He intently watched the light and shadows dancing on the concrete floor. "When her potion worked, they got scared and left." 

"Then what?"

"Then we fell asleep." Damian reported, dead staring into Bruce's face. "And now we're small."

"So I see." He hummed. He suddenly remembered the other boy. "Thank you, Duke." The boy blushed and buried his face in his knees, too shy and embarrassed to tell Bruce that they still had their grown-up consciousness. 

"He wants to sit with me." Damian snapped.

"Hey, you can't just grab him!"

"Stop that." Bruce ordered, more out of force of habit than anything else. He made a conscious effort not scare the toddler. "Are you alright, Dickie?"

"Brwuse!" Dick fussed and wiggled to be freed from Terry's grasp. He may currently be a two-year-old, but did his dad have to be so Embarrassing?

"Hey, Birdie." Bruce sounded thirty again, so playful and empathetic. It was unfamiliar. "let's get all of you back to the manor-" he jolted as a pint-sized Jason rammed into his back. Bruce inhaled sharply, slowly reminding himself not to attack a five-year-old, even if that five-year-old is red hood. 

"Let's MOVE! We needta catch em!" Jason yelled.

"Not like this. I need to get you home. Nightwing, Renegade , T- someone wake up Red Robin. You three will get Signal, Hood, and Robin to the batmobile."

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Fitting all six boys in the batmobile was a task to be sure. By the time jason had come along, Bruce had had Lucious Fox extend the back seat to fit more Robins, making it more of a bat-soccer-mom-SUV.

Still, by having Damian sit in the front, Dick sit on his lap, and Jason and Duke squeeze into one seat, they made it work. In lack of a carseat for any involved, Damian wrapped his arms around Dick to keep him still (much to Dick's disapproval), and Terry methodically juggled making sure neither The eight year-old, six-year-old, or five-year old got hurt.

"Cut it out!! Bruce!" The awakened eight year old, Tim, called.

"Why do YOU get yer own seat? I'm almost bigger than you!"

"But I'm older, so you have to share!"

"I don't wanna share! You're tiny! You share!" Jason grabbed his brothers shirt, shaking him.

"Jason, cut it out." Terry agreed, leaning over to separate them before they either kill each other or bruise poor Duke, who was unfortunately seated between them.

"Both of you stop that." Bruce ordered, sighing. "Or  I'll tell Alfred not to let you have any treats." Jason huffed, he was really hungry. He leaned moodily against the door. "Terrence, trade places with Timothy."

Despite the teen's reluctance (The middle seat was TINY!), he swapped with Tim as the batmobile roared to life, taking off. Instinctively, Bruce put out his hand to protect Damien and Dick, as if the seatbelt didn't exist. Neither of his sons were too pleased with this.

Terry, for his part, was trying to handle the other three children; they were all far too short to be without booster seat. Jason objected to being held safely; Tim wasn't happy, but understood why it was necessary, and Terry was barely even protecting Duke, he was only held in place by Terry's arm under his chin as he reached across to hold Jason down.

The trip to the batcave seemed to take forever; Terry winced at every bump that bucked his brothers' off their seats, and every turn that sent them flying against the doors -and each other. Even Damian in the front seat was struggling to hold his twenty-five-lbs brother in place -though that may be because Dick was struggling to be held in place...

Finally, BRuce pulled into the cave, he remembered now why he used to get Alfred to drive the boys to school.

"You're back early this evening, sir. I trust that the lads' campaign was successful?"

Bruce removed his cowl and hurried out. He was acutely away that both he and Alfred were getting older. He was forty-eight, and Alfred would soon be turning seventy-nine, but despite being a vigilante, Bruce knew that Alfred was smarter, stronger, and healthier than him.

"Alfred. The boys have been deaged." He said sharply.

"Ah. By how much younger are the young sirs?" Alfred asked, as if this were a minutely inconvenient change in scheduling. 

"Nightwing is in his mid-teens, Renegade is a preteenager, Red Robin is seven or eight..." Which is a generous estimation, Bruce thought, since he was small enough to be mistaken for a kindergartener. "Signal and Jason -curse him- are young children (Five, or six?)" Did Jason even have a hero name anymore? It doesn't matter. " Robin is a toddler."

"Ah, the lads have regressed about fourteen years, then."

Jason wormed his way out of his seatbelt and left the car as Duke silently waited in his (now half-empty) seat to see if Terry would notice he needed to be unbuckled. 

"Ah, Master Jason." In or out of costume, no matter what age or context, Alfred could tell apart all of his blue-eyed black-haired vigilante boys from a glance. He knew a baby Bruce from a baby Damian, from a baby Tim, Duke, Terry, Jason, or Dick. To be fair, Damian had greener eyes than the others, and Duke was fairly easy to tell apart by merit of being black and not having blue eyes, but a fair portion of this skill was solely his parental grand-bat powers.

"Hi." Jason padded over, not maintaining the swaggering gait he had as an adult. "'m hungry."

"Todd, don't be annoying." Damian said in a pretty lacklustre display of big-bothering. He unbuckled and took Dick out of the car. "Richard, go situate yourself."

Dick rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue, ambling over to Alfred. "Hi Alfie. Were lil now."

"So I see. Are you also hungry?" Alfred asked, not even struggling as he lifted the boy off the ground.

"Alfrwed!" Dick exclaimed in shock. His sixteen year old self could not fathom his elderly grandfather figure picking him up. Last time Alfred had lifted him up like that, they were 5 and 68, and he could tell it hurt his back. 

"One..." Terry unbuckled Tim, who was drowsy again from the ride. "...Two." He unbuckled Duke, pushing the door open to let them out. He tried to stand, but embarrassingly, he'd forgot his own seatbelt, and hastily tried to untangle himself as Jason fell back laughing

Dick, perched on the butler's hip with no chance of escape, watched his brothers stumble around  the cave. Damian headed straight to the batcomputor. "We need to reverse this NOW!"

Bruce half-sighed half-scoffed at the ten year old's audacity to get deaged and then start leading a follow-up investigation. "Get yourself and your brothers  upstairs and find some fitting clothes."

"Where? Our smallest hand-downs fit sixteen-year-old Grayson."

"Well check the attic." Bruce consciously reminded himself to be patient. He'd given Damian a hard enough time the first time he was ten. He tried to put on the voice he'd used back when he first adopted Dick. "Take your bothers upstairs, help them clean up, and get them some fitting clothes. Please."

Damian was just as shocked and appalled by his father baby-talking him as he was by his father bossing him around. Furiously displeased, Damian stormed to the door. He'd research on his own!

"I'll help everyone clean up if you get clothes..." Terry called as the Wayne exited. He turned to Alfred sheepishly. "Can- I don't know-"

"I'll assist you where I can." Alfred assured, carrying the uncomfortable and wriggling toddler in his arms upstairs to the manor. "Master Bruce, If you're wise, you'll help with your six children."

Bruce couldn't use the too old excuse now. "Sure, Okay."