Notes: This is the first of my submitted Tumblr prompts. By first I mean the first I filled, not the first I received. I'm filling them one at a time in whatever order seems good. I actually started this one because my response to another prompt was rather long and it might a while before it comes out... then this one turn out really long *sighs* oh well. This is probably not exactly what anonymous prompter had in mind but... hope you enjoy anyway.

Prompt from Anonymous:

hey, can you please write another crossover between White Collar and Batman? like a oneshot or something, but i really like how you tie everything together. like maybe where he hadn't deleted his existence off of the internet and was found out as Dick sometime while working for the FBI. and like, everyone was shocked that rich-boy Grayson was grand-thief Caffrey. XD thanks, any theme you use is good though, i'm just really into your AU.

Bruce tried, Neal suffers and Nightwing drops in on Peter

Bruce had tried. He was exhausted and beaten and could no longer put up the fight. He could only hope his eldest son would forgive him.

"Hacked the wifi yet?" Jason asked Tim from his corner of the elevator. Tim, sitting right by the buttons, had pulled out some cords and was using them to try and get his tablet computer online.

"Didn't we get you a portable wifi modem?" Bruce questioned.

Tim hummed and crouched down, placing the screen on his legs. "That won't get me unrestricted access to the FBI. Nor will it tell me where we are." Bruce had no doubt that Tim could find a way around that but, it seemed his middle child wanted to do things the messy way.

"We're on the tenth floor, going up," Damian said in his 'you're stupid' tone. He pointed to the floor indicator on the button panel above Tim's head.

"They're inaccurate," Tim repeated. "And I want accuracy."

"Just don't get caught," Bruce sighed.

"-tt-" Damian pushed off the wall and Bruce glared at him.

"Damian!" he barked. "Against the wall."

"This is stupid," Damian huffed dropping back against the wall of his corner of the elevator.

"Then why did you come?" Tim snapped back.

"Because you were coming."

"Because I like the idea of walking right in and out of the FBI," Jason responded with a grin. "I think Red Hood is still on their watch list."

"I didn't ask you."

"He didn't ask you."

"Stick to your corners, boys!" Bruce said as they started to shift. How many more floors were there until the White Collar office anyway? He didn't think he'd survive the way things were going. "And I told you all to stay back at the hotel."

"Come on Bruce, that FBI agent said we should give our statements."

"After all, it's not every day we take down a fleeing suspect."

"Besides, this is the best team in the country. They even have a conman working for them."

"It's not the first time that's happened," Jason commented.

"This one supposedly stole the painting of St. George and the Dragon done by Raphael."

Damian rolled his eyes.

The elevator dinged.

Bruce tensed. It was time.

Bruce Wayne and sons walked into the office like they had stepped off the runway. Neatly and smartly dressed, Wayne and the two youngest were in suits while the other one was dressed in a blue button up shirt and black jeans with a jacket thrown over his shoulders.

They could give Neal a run for his money.

Neal's eyes widened and everyone wondered about that until the one in the jacket pointed at him.

"You!"

Neal pointed back and yelled at Bruce, "I thought you said you weren't going to bring them!"

Bruce looked like he had been caught between a rock and a hard place. He adjusted his tie while Jason growled at him.

"You knew?"

"I tried?" Bruce admitted to Neal, looking worn out for a moment.

A few of the agents felt for him. It was obvious he was out of depth with whatever was going on.

Up in his office, Hughes frowned at the sudden commotion. He walked out and popped his head in Peter's office.

"Is it Caffrey?" Peter asked with a put-upon sigh.

"Possibly. Wayne's here."

"Great," Peter groaned. They observed from above the bullpen.

A rather thin and short teenager had Neal pressed up against a wall with a finger shoved against his chest. Neal's hands were up in surrender and he had the smile of a conman whose con had just gone wrong.

"You know that the Raphael was my favourite!" Tim cried out. "Why'd you go and steal it?"

"Allegedly," Neal said, "no one has proved anything. Also, come on, Tim, you never saw it in real life anyway. It's not like it getting stolen affected you."

Damian cackled from where he was sitting on Neal's desk.

"Caffrey!" Hughes barked.

"This isn't my fault!" Neal whined back. Peter wondered about that. He was starting to understand why Neal had been twitchy whenever Wayne was mentioned and downright terrified of the man coming to the office.

Who knew Neal's reaction would have more to do with Wayne's children than Wayne himself?

"I do apologise for my children," Bruce sighed, causing Peter to jolt. The man had somehow appeared beside him without his notice. "They are... troublesome at times and it's been a while since they've seen their older brother."

"The guy in the jacket?" Peter questioned. He looked like a ringleader, standing behind Neal's desk and grinning at the others while he looked through Neal's drawers.

Bruce blinked. In an almost too-innocent tone he said, "no. That's Jason. He's the second eldest. I was taking about Richard... what did you call him? Caffrey? I was taking about Caffrey."

"I'm sorry, what are you talking about?" Hughes demanded to know. Richard Grayson was Bruce's first, taken in years ago and adopted only a couple of years back. "How is Richard related to Caffrey?"

"Hey, Dick! Why do you need a drawer full of ties?" Jason demanded to know with a wide grin in Neal's direction. He held up a blue tie which Peter had seen before. Neal wore it often but only in the office. If they went outside, he tended to change it. Neal had said that the tie was special and he didn't want anything to happen to it.

"Put that down Todd! I bought that for him!" Damian screeched, reaching across the desk to grab it.

"Everybody FREEZE!" Neal bellowed suddenly in a tone no one had ever heard from him before. It reminded Peter of Hughes or himself, the tone of someone in charge. "Tim, take a couple of steps back and I'll talk to you in a moment. Damian, get off my desk and follow your father up the stairs. Jason, choose. Either get yourself into the conference room or get out before I call security."

Silence reigned for a few moments, broken when Jason sighed and shoved the tie back in the draw.

"You will have to explain," he said, shoving a finger in Neal's face before quickly ascending the stairs and walking right into the conference room without acknowledging anyone else.

Damian made his way up to Bruce with a frown on his pudgy face.

"Tim," Neal sighed. "Really?"

Tim's expression was serious as he responded, "Really."

"Sara was bad enough but now you?" Neal huffed. "Forget about the Raphael for now and I'll explain what's going on upstairs."

"The FBI better get it back in a couple of months in an anonymous package or something," Tim said as Neal guided him up the stairs.

"What just happened?" Agent Blake questioned in shock.

Peter raised an eyebrow at Neal, who just shoved a thumb in the direction of the conference room. Hughes had already walked inside to keep an eye on Bruce Wayne and his brats.

"Okay, Caffrey explain," Hughes ordered.

Neal smiled. "Hi, my name is actually Richard Grayson but most people call me Dick. I'm Bruce's eldest. I... may have done some silly things and Bruce decided I could stay on the anklet until I learnt my lesson."

"You broke out of prison. For a girl," Bruce huffed.

"She was in danger! I was right about that," Neal muttered.

Peter winced at the reminder of what had happened with Kate. Neal had been devastated to lose her. He both disapproved of Bruce treating the anklet like a minor punishment and approved of his disapproval of Neal breaking out of prison.

"Prison. Which you were in because you went and forged bonds for Roy and then gave them to that Mozzie character."

Jason laughed. "Seriously? Bond forgery? Should of known you'd be the most boring white collar criminal."

"Bond forgery is not boring!" Neal countered. "That's mortgage fraud!"

"Does it really matter?" Tim questioned, looking between his two brothers. "Although I guess this is why we haven't seen you outside of phone calls for a while."

"A year," Damian said. "Not that I've been keeping track. I just have a good memory."

"Of course," Neal said with a fond smile and ruffling the kid's hair. Peter was amazed. Neal actually seemed like a responsible adult around these people.

"Dick, we will see you back at your place, I think," Bruce said. He told Tim the address and Jason, Tim and Damian bolted out of the room. "Let me just give you my prepared statement and then I'll be off."

"So, Neal is your son?" Hughes questioned as Bruce handed him a signed statement.

"That's right. Just... let him go by Neal Caffrey. It'll get him into less trouble than Dick Grayson," Bruce advised.

Peter wondered about that but decided to trust the billionaire. Neal already got into trouble on a regular basis. He didn't want to risk it getting worse.

A few months after meeting Bruce Wayne and his kids and learning that Neal was not just Neal but also Dick Grayson, Neal received commutation and was let go. The news had a mixed reaction from the White Collar office. Some agents would miss him while others was glad to see him go. The latter were not from White Collar and didn't interact with Neal often, if at all. Peter wasn't surprised at the news and wondered if Bruce had something to do with it.

Neal left with a smile on his face and a promise to Peter that he would see him again.

A few nights later, Peter had been in the backyard with his wife when a man in a dark uniform jumped over the fence. Peter grabbed his gun while El held him back. She had seen the flash of blue across his chest.

"Peter, wait! That's Nightwing!"

"Nightwing?" The man dropped to the ground, holding his side and Peter looked closer. He did look the vigilante who returned to New York and had started hanging out with a bunch of adults calling themselves the 'Titans'. "He's hurt, El. Get the med kit." He could see the dark stain of blood growing on the man's uniform. He wandered over, holding his hands and the gun up to show he meant no harm. "Can you stand?"

"Ugh, I have no idea. I didn't intend to hit the ground." That voice was familiar.

"Neal?" Nightwing grinned up at him and Peter huffed a sigh. He should have known. He reached down and helped Neal up, caution gone now that he knew who was under the mask. "Why are dressed like that?"

"I'm following a pattern of behaviour instilled in me in a young age," Neal responded. "Also, call me Nightwing, okay? To any outsiders, you're just helping the guy who crashed into your yard. I don't want any of my enemies coming after you two."

"Then why come here?" Peter growled as he deposited Neal into a chair. The man was heavy, probably as a result of all the lean muscle under his uniform. No wonder Neal always had looked fit.

Neal looked at the ground. "I missed you and I promised I would visit." Peter didn't budge, staring at him until he answered probably. "I'm hurt and was close to your place. Plus, I need sleep which isn't interrupted by my friends' 'emergencies' like 'Roy invented a bomb which exploded and now the room is covered in whipped cream' so can I sleep on your couch tonight?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's get a look at you." To his surprise, the suit had a zipper down the back which Peter had to pull down for Neal.

"I would do it, but I don't want to risk tearing myself open even more."

"I would love to know that trick," El said as she came in. "Maybe I could use it to get into some of my dresses."

"Use a coat hanger in the hole of the zipper," Neal responded matter-of-factly. "And pull it up."

Peter resisted telling his wife that were was no hole in the zipper for Neal's uniform. It was small, almost invisible.

Neal's side had been sliced. He raised his arm and had a look.

"Well, that's not as bad as I thought. Hurts though."

"Of course," Peter said patiently as El handed him something to clean the wound with. How had he ended up mending a hurt vigilante in his lounge room anyway? "You know what? While I'm helping you with this, maybe you could help with some of my cases?"

Neal barked a laugh. "Sure, why not?"