#Batless!Au

[chronicbatfictioner]

I'm dying, please help, I just found your "Exchanges and Compromises" but it's chapter 13, and I need the 1st cuz now I'm hooked, please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please, PRETTY PLEASE give a link with thr first chapter?? Or is it on another platform or something that'll give it to me? I'm so so so so so sorry if this is trouble, I'm just dying from not knowing the beginning and ending☹️🥺🙏

Hi dear anon! I’m sorry for not linking my fics to my AO3 - I forgot! Anyway, here’s the link to AO3:

Exchanges and Compromises (44892 words) by outlawserenade Chapters: 27/27 Fandom: Batman - Fandom, Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics), Detective Comics (Comics), Green Arrow (Comics), Birds of Prey (Comic), Catwoman (Comics), Batgirl (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dick Grayson/Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd/Tim Drake, Dinah Drake/Oliver Queen, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne Characters: Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Damian Wayne, Selina Kyle, Dinah Drake, Oliver Queen, Helena Bertinelli, Lucius Fox, Jim Gordon, Alfred Pennyworth, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Bane (DCU), Thomas Elliot, Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne Additional Tags: will add villains in the tag as they come, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, New 52, will add characters' hero alias as they come too, if I tag now it'll spoil the whole thing, maybe I'll tag once everything's been posted, Or not, just see how my mood goes, Jaytim - Freeform, definitely JayTim, dickbabs, 'cause it's my jam, Stray!Tim Drake, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Tim Drake is Catlad | Stray, Dick Grayson is a Talon, Talon!Dick Grayson, Damian is Damian Series: Part 1 of Batless Summary:

A single change brought by the unlikeliest person brought a change to an entire universe.

=A fated night, 20 years ago - so everybody thought and believed. A fated night that brought Dr Thomas and Mrs Martha Wayne, along with their 10-year-old son, Bruce, to the Cinema at Park Row to watch an old movie rerun. A fated night in which Dr Wayne had forgotten his wallet at the concession stand, and the concession attendant had chased him as they got out of the theater to head back home.=

You will need an AO3 account, I think (also I prefer, since I don’t have the headspace to deal with bots >.<).

Happy reading! <3333

[kneelingshadowsalome]

i love your works and your toxic könig so much 😭 for some reason in my head könig was always like a puppy in love even outside of aus but i like to imagine him like this sometimes.

basically if he feels abandoned bc you were busy with something else (literally taking a shower for like 10 minutes or not looking at him while he was talking) he will start crying and needs you to kiss him a bunch of times and tell him he's your favourite boy baby husband man boyfriend sweetheart for like an hour lol. he literally can't stand it if he can't touch you or talk to you for long periods of time (let's say the reader is a civilian and könig often has missions he has to leave for). he literally goes insane and keeps rereading those screenshots of loving messages from you he has an entire folder on his phone for, literally he convinced himself that you've already left him for someone else and is now going to be crying himself to sleep.

when he does return he's literally scared, so it feels like you attached him to yourself physically and that's why he never leaves your side. always holding hands, könig always being there even if your have to move around the house a lot or do the most mundane tasks even if he himself has chores or things he needs to do. kind of creepy bc he's just silent but feels like he'll die if you disappear from his line of sight for more than two seconds.

even aside from that listening to you talk fondly of someone, anyone really: a friend (if he lets you have them), a random cashier (if he wasn't there with you to talk to them instead of you), a relative (if he even allows you to talk to your family) he's so!!! like hurt and upset and goes quiet for long periods of time.

like eyes red from crying, nose stuffed and he's like "i'm fine nothing is wrong" then goes back to crying somewhere more private.

and this kind of behaviour makes sex kind of uncomfortable Sometimes. he often needs you to repeat that you're his, only his, you can't look away from him, you HAVE to be holding his hand when he fucks you but somehow it's a 50/50 when it comes to power dynamics.

either he manhandles you and shows you that he's the only man, the only person you could ever need or love and that he won't ever let you leave him; or he's completely subby, like "please hold my face and kiss me while you're riding me for as long as you want, i'm only yours and i wanna show that" kind of way.

i am insane basically thank you for coming to my ted talk.

This was one of the best Ted talks I've ever been to! I loved every word, every second of it!! 🥳🥹 My god, I want more... I need me some encore now.

I love subby König, holy Christ. And tbh... what's beneath the toxic, crazy killing machine König is someone who is horribly, and I mean HORRIBLY love-deprived and touch-starved and super duper insecure. Which means there's bound to be some subby behavior leaking through toxic König too!

König would so need to have you on his sights at all times. And when he's working, it's annoying because... he loves his work but now he's just thinking about you. What are you doing at this very moment..? Have you talked to someone today? A friend, a colleague, a family member? A stranger??

Do you sleep ok without him (because he doesn't, he just tosses and turns in his bunk/cot/the ground all night when you're not there), and why haven't you sent a text today? He's gonna call you as soon as he gets somewhere more private.

The longer the mission lasts, the more sullen and broody he gets. After a few days, he kills his enemies with a thousand yard stare only because they're basically what's between him and his squeeze.

And yes he has to touch you like a thousand times a day or just watch your every move when he finally gets home. If you're in the bathroom too long he comes to knock on the door and ask if everything's alright (you ran there to have a moment's peace from this big cuddly behemoth who looks at you with that creepy batless obsessive stare... frankly it's disturbing)

And oh my god stop – holding hands during sex? Oh my god. Imagine him bordering on being rough (because he's *missed* you goddammit 👿) while wanting to entwine your fingers together✨️. Toxic König is a huge romantic, even if the "romantic" things he does are a bit... questionable. And he wouldn't shut up during the first round after he got home!

"Say that you missed me,"

"Tell me you're mine... Say it. Now,"

"You're always teasing me,"

would be some of the things he'd say during pounding you to his heart's content. (And you wouldn't even know how you've "teased" him this time... Like... He's the one who left for a week long mission...? 🤨)

After sex he would be so much gentler, but no less demanding and whiny. He needs so much validation and gets odd and grumpy if you don't give him some. If you'd try to domme him though, he would become even more unbearable (being a sub is this man's secret fantasy but he doesn't even know it himself).

[coloredsnowo]

batfam au where bruce is just purely Brucie Wayne, and all his kids are secretly vigilantes (he is utterly clueless)

After he adopts dick

Dick: *trying to sneak out the window*

Brucie: “Dick my son, where are you off to on this glorious evening”

Dick: “erm. a party.”

Brucie: “have fun I hope you ‘slay’ 🥳

Dick “haha.. yeah” *jumps out the window*

—

Jason-

Jason: *also trying to sneak out the window*

Brucie: “Are you also a party-boy like your brother?”

Jason: “No Im going to go beat people up”

Brucie: “So youve gotten your brothers sense of humor ^v^”

—

Tim-

Brucie: “Tim why do you never get any sleep?? I’m worried”

Tim: “I’m. Studying for AP exams.”

Brucie: “still you need to sleep :(”

*tims watch buzzes*

Tim: “Haha!!! I need to. go study with Dick and Jason now. bye Bruce”

Brucie: “At this point I’d rather you constantly going out to parties like they did”

—

Damian-

Brucie: “Dick I cannot believe you have been taking your 8 year old brother out until god knows when?????”

Damian: “Father we ar-“

Dick: “YES BRUCE IM SORRY FOR BEING SO IRRESPONSIBLE AND LETTING A CHILD GO OUT AT NIGHT. NO REASON A CHILD SHOULD BE GOING OUTSIDE.”

—

Brucie: “Alfred I feel like my kids are keeping a secret from me…”

*moment of silence*

Brucie: “No theyd never keep anything from me. my darling children.”

(comms)

[chronicbatfictioner]

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 24

Chapter 24

"I kinda wished this isn't... a charade." Jason remarked idly. "I mean the restaurant is nice and all..." And so was Jason, Tim thought. While he was still torn between maybe bitchslapping Barbara and Dinah for coming up with this idea, he sure as all hell didn't regret it. Or the sight. Jason was wearing a simple maroon shirt and black vest embroidered in silver. Tim himself ended up in a fitted light blue printed button-up that made him feel positively small next to Jason.

"It's not." Tim promptly corrected him. "I mean, okay. It's not a charade. Not entirely, at least. I'd have... you know, asked. For real. I just... there's a mission at hand and all..." And Tim knew he would have, too. If only to get himself fully and completely alone with Jason.

Ironically, the restaurant Barbara picked for them was a major meeting place for mafioso and just about half of the 'upper class' criminals of Gotham. It helped that Helena, with her ties to the mafia families, was able to secure them a place - not even the city's Mayor or the Waynes would be able to get a place without a vouch from either out of the four families: Falcone, Maroni, Galante, or Bertinelli - yes, Helena's family. They were the known heads of the East End, and they have made a pact that this place would forever remain sacred ground: no businesses shall be spoken of in here, ever.

It did make a perfect place for a date-slash-briefing meeting between Tim and Jason, though.

At Tim's comment, Jason glared at him suspiciously, and then let out an uneasy laughter. "Sure, Timmers. Just let me know when you can actually walk away from 'missions' and available for a real date."

Tim's brain must have crashed, because he could literally feel it rebooting. "Uh, yeah. Hi, where were we?" he spluttered when his brain was finally operating again and he noticed Jason's glare at him.

"You were telling me that there are hints that Bruce is indeed a fake and the real one is being held in Europe - hence Dr and Mrs Wayne's kind of über-prolonged holiday at the Wayne family Chalet in Switzerland." Jason told him. "Our agents told me that they're virtually free to walk around, and they have a housekeeper named Peyton Riley there."

"How's your agent prowl around unseen?" Tim asked curiously. But Jason just smirked at him.

"League-ways, Tim, do you really want to know?" he teased. "But I don't think the chalet itself would have any kind of detainment area... it's practically a hut - three bedrooms, one kitchen-slash-dining room, one living room. I think if Superman's gonna see through it with his x-ray vision set at level one, he'll literally see through the whole nine yards all the way to the mountain behind it..."

"What about the mountain behind it, though?" Tim asked. "There could be like, caves and stuff there where..." he swallowed. "...either you could detain someone or..."

"...hide a dead body, yeah I know. I've told my people to search all over the town, including the mountains, and they haven't reported back to me yet." Jason finished for him. "If you have other venues you'd like to search on, let me know."

Tim nodded, thinking how convenient it has been for them to have the League of Assassins at their disposal. First and foremost, while Barbara was able to place her agent - i.e. Dr Leslie Thompkins - at the conference that was attended by Dr Wayne, she was not available to be a permanent sentry of sort, as Dr Thompkins has her own work back in Gotham. So when Jason said that the driver that Dr Thompkins initially used, and whose services was continue to the Waynes, was a League agent; they all jumped at the chance to find out further. Or rather, Tim insisted that Barbara should accept Jason's offer and utilize the League - they were working the same goal, after all.

What Tim thought of as 'further' initially included having the driver tail the Waynes, maybe, for a few days. But Jason's plan - Tim and Barbara both have to admit - was million times better. The Waynes were residing in a chalet just a little way out of town. Said chalet would have had its supplies - i.e. pantry ingredients, cleaning supplies - sent in from the nearest town. Said town has League of Assassin agents in it. Why shouldn't they be utilized?

Hence they discovered that Dr and Mrs Wayne has hired someone not local, Peyton Riley, to be their housekeeper. A little unusual, but since the family would originally had Alfred, the little town kept quiet. Quietly grumbling, that is. And the Birds of Prey discovered just how gossipy a little town could get, courtesy of just-as-gossipy League of Assassin members.

"Thus far, I'm okay with them keeping an eye from a distance. We'll need to determine who this Peyton Riley is, and find out who she serves, for real. I mean, she arrived there only a day after the Waynes, so she was like, probably, a sentry." Tim said, his mind only half working as he watched Jason swirling the brandy in his goblet. Tim's own glass consist of grape juice. Unfermented, thanks. He was a minor, after all, even if the maitre'd would not care so much and just cared of the platinum card Tim has. Jason just didn't care that he, too, technically was still a not-legal drinker.

A question nagged on the back of Tim's mind. "Hey Jason?"

"Yeah?"

"Ever wonder what you'd be, like if Talia didn't get you?"

Jason took a sip from the goblet, and set it slowly on the table. "Every single day." he said. "My best-case scenario would be I end up dead before my 15th birthday. My worst case scenario would be that I ended up dead before my 15th birthday as somebody's slave."

"Cheerful," Tim smirked.

"You?"

Tim shrugged. "Same thing, only died by my own hand, probably." He looked straight into Jason's eyes as he said it. There was no quiz, fear, or disgust in those teal eyes. Tim inwardly smirked for himself, thinking how Dick was right that Jason's eyes were actually teal instead of blue or green. The restaurant's dim lighting made Jason's eyes looked more green, at present.

"I saw the scars." Jason said. "We at the League have many kids like you, ones who thought they had no purpose in life and should simply succumb to the voices in their mind. Maybe if Barbara hadn't found you, we would." he smiled softly. "Wonder what it'll be like..."

"Probably somewhere between the League taking over the world right now, or me taking over the League - heinous violence excluded, thanks." Tim replied. "And it was Selina who found me first, by the way. I just..." Tim blinked, realizing something profound.

That night when Selina had found him lurking in the shadows, trying to catch a photo of the cat-burglar that had been terrorizing the place of the man who had killed his parents, Tim had had a purpose. The purpose was to get rid of the burglar so he could go in to the man's place and get what he needed. But when he saw how Catwoman had moved, he had an epiphany. Instead of getting her arrested, he talked to her. He'd gotten her to agree to help him.

Selina did it on her own afterward - she demanded a lot from Tim. Demanded that he should go see a shrink and get help for his... ways. The shrink, a Dr Harleen Quinzel, helped a lot. Helped Tim to realize that he was an addict. That his addiction to the adrenaline was the cause of his self-harming ways, whereas the addiction itself was caused by the adrenaline. The excitement he felt when he did something dangerous and get away with it.

Barbara had somehow sensed it without seeing Dr Quinzel's records, or spoke too much to Selina. Tim knew that Selina would never have revealed anything of Tim's past to anyone. Yet Barbara knew just when to get Tim's adrenaline to spike, and how - usually without anything sharp or hard or bullet get in the way. Barbara kind of made it her life's purpose to throw puzzles at Tim that, when he solved them, would bring the adrenaline forth.

He snapped out of his reverie when Jason snapped his fingers in front of his face, "Earth to Tim, you there?" Jason called.

"yeah, sorry... I was just... thinking of what would've happened to me if... things had been different. I'd--" Tim smiled ruefully. "I need a few more flowers for Mother's Day, I think."

Jason's smile mirrored Tim. "Yeah, I hear you. Although I do have a scenario where it had been me picked up by Selina instead of you... Wasn't fun, either." he grinned. "We'd probably end up as the nastiest team of thieves, ever, screw heroics."

"Right? I'd thought of that, too!" Tim chuckled. "Well, anyway. It's getting late. Not that I want the night to end..."

"So far, neither Dick or Damian has reported one of them being dead and/or prefer to be after a Disney marathon I knew Dick was planing to do tonight..." Jason laughed. "But yeah, the paparazzis outside are getting restless. Think we should get them their time's worth?"

"Erg." Tim groaned and facepalmed. "Sorry about that... I thought they'd be more interested on that... whatzer-name Hollywood starlet over there..."

"She's left, there were a few flashes, and that was it. Think she might be related to any of the Dons?" Jason smirked slyly.

"I suppose she would be... I think she's Irish, though."

"Ooh, inter-family union, mayhaps?"

"Didn't know you gossip."

"Tim, buddy, if you hear half the gossips the League would share around, your toes would curl." Jason told him earnestly. "No one is saved! Not even the Head or..." Jason paused as the Maitre'd brought them their bill. Tim had to laugh as he reached over for the bill, the mental image of Ra's being gossiped with somebody was too funny.

"You missed him, too." He said after he returned the bill.

Jason lifted a shoulder. "He taught me a lot. Of course I missed him, too." he replied. "It's the only thing I can do to honor both of them, keeping Damian safe once and for all. And... if this doesn't work - if Damian can't deal with his... father--" he paused as they both got up. "--then there will be contingency plans to run. For the record: I hate each and every one of them."

"Would they include like, something liquid and red and should've been inside a living being's body?" Tim tested, a few steps from his car.

Jason's smile at him was probably worth the price of the photos the paparazzis didn't hesitate to snap. It filled Tim's tabloid cliché quota for the whole year of 'soft', 'gentle', and 'loving'.

"You got me good, Timbers," Jason replied and giving him the finger guns.

Make that _two years worth of cliché_, Tim thought as he entered the car. Taken without context, the paparazzis would have a field day guessing the context of Jason's comment. "Oh man," Tim muttered as he started the car. "Tomorrow's tabloid headlines are gonna be wild..."

"Tomorrow?" Barbara's voice chimed in, and Tim could hear the laugh in her voice. "Buddy, tonight's social media frenzy is gonna be wild. I'm giving some popular social medias some ten minutes to crash."

"Sorry," Tim told Jason.

"I'm not. Thanks for the bookings, Babs," Jason replied. "Good time was had, Tim. It's nice to relax after this... good long while."

If Jason knew how his comment would be such a jinx, he probably wouldn't say it. The ride back home was quiet, interspersed with light commentaries from Barbara while she monitored a lot of the social medias. MugTome crashed after twelve minutes, RapidPic crashed in twenty. A lot of tabloid websites crashed after less than ten minutes of them posting the photo of Tim and Jason.

They had just turned the corner of Bristol road, when Jason tensed. "Choppers." he said. "Silent choppers. Oracle!" he growled.

"Releasing drones right now." Barbara replied.

"Floor it, Tim!" he ordered.

"I am!" Tim snapped back. He knew he was flooring it, speeding up the car the very instant he, too, heard the quiet rumble of helicopter rotors.

"You guys..." Barbara warned, just as they entered Wayne Manor's driveway. "Get out of th--"

Barbara's warning was cut off by a loud explosion. The car rocked and skidded to a halt, and the airbag exploded just in time on both sides - effectively shielding the two of them from bullets coming their way. Tim heard the bullets bouncing and skidding off the windshield and thanking high heavens that he'd not opted for a convertible. Also thanking his paranoia that led him to reinforce his car with bulletproof everything - even the airbag.

He didn't have time to think when Jason grabbed him by the cuff just as the airbags started to deflate. He heard Jason growled, "Duck," and Jason's side of the door got kicked out. Somebody- something - crashed onto it, and Jason must have grabbed that somebody's gun or otherwise was pretty good in hiding an automatic rifle in his person. He started shooting - the sound was too close and consistent to be coming from those who were speeding past his car.

"Oracle!" Tim called amidst the shooting.

"Dammit, Cat! I can't see a thing on your side!" Barbara replied. "The manor is on fire! And someone is shooting from the-- by God that's Alfred!"

"Jason!" Tim called, resetting his car's security features so that he could restart the car. "Get in!"

"Go!" Jason ordered, and as soon as Tim saw one of his arms holding on to the car, he floored the gas. "Just keep going and don't look!" Jason continued.

They must have been playing the world's meanest chicken game with motorcycle riders, because Tim could feel the crashes on his car; but not see them as the remnant of the airbag covered the lower side of the windshield and he partially hiding under the dashboard. He was definitely driving by memory, toward the Manor. And skidded to a stop right in front of its steps, looking at the burning manor in horror.

[chronicbatfictioner]

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 25

Jason didn't have time for niceties, definitely. But he did checked on Alfred when he managed to dispose of the strike force - whoever they were - from the door.

"Jason! They've got Master Bruce!" Alfred reported. He did not - much to Jason's relief - look like he needed assistance as he kept shooting with uncanny accuracy through a shotgun. Jason collected another rifle from another prone body, and discarded the one he'd repossessed before, and made his way toward the bedrooms.

"Damian!" he called, even as he saw Dick fighting at least two dozen men.

"They got him!" Dick called.

Jason stilled and glared at Dick, leaping to and fro and landing punches and kicks, but there were simply too many of them. "Get to me in three seconds, Grayson." Jason growled lowly, punching the inner-ear commlink. "Cat, get Alfred out and away in your car now."

"Alfred's safe!" Tim reported a second later. "I'm holing in the car. What?"

"Zap them all." Jason stated as Dick came within arm's reach. "In three, go up and off the ground, Dick. --Two, --one!"

Dick leaped, taking Jason with him, toward a chandelier; and held on to it just as Jason dropped a tiny EMP/taser grenade. It zapped around as it hit the ground, and thanks to Dick's acrobatics, Jason himself would not be affected.

"Okay, back down." Jason ordered as the 30+ attackers dropped like flies. "I hope your shoes are insulated. And where is Damian?"

"Bruce got to him in the panic room!" Dick looked pissed. "I'm sorry, I'm... I didn't think he'd try anything in his own house..."

"Right," Jason snapped and flicked the comms back on. "Oracle," he called. If all went according to plan, Tim would have used the same method outside, using his tweaked-out car as a taser.

"Tim's immediate surrounding is clean." Oracle reported.

"Let's go!" Jason all but dragged Dick. He wanted to get pissed at Dick, but managed to keep his anger in check. Dick might have been an excellent fighter. But he was not trained to guard.

"The GCPD and first responders' on their way after they saw the boom." Oracle reported. "You might not want to be next door."

"I have a place a little further out of Bristol, ten minutes away." Tim said, a little grimly. "We're going there." he continued as Jason and Dick got in to his car.

Jason kept quiet through the journey, largely because Alfred and Dick, too, were being quiet. Oracle would handle the outside CCTV recordings, and hopefully hold back all queries as to where the Waynes were during what seemed like a whole invasion. There were so many bodies, more than the League of Shadow's would have been able to get their hands on.

He was still thinking of what or who could have been behind the whole attack, when they arrived at a little hut in the woods just outside of Bristol Township, a few miles beyond Wayne Manor's borders. He was not initially worried of Damian, he would be able to find him easily. Even as they got in, the League's people would have been starting to track Damian through a tracker he has in him.

It was Dick who spoke first. "I'm sorry. I tried to get Damian to the panic room and Bruce followed. He must have drugged Damian because I saw him leaping out a window with Damian under his arm..."

Alfred chimed in. "He is not Master Bruce, Richard. I can assure you that."

"Okay," Tim sighed. "O? I think we need a change of plan here. Jason? You have anything?"

"Yeah," Jason exhaled slowly. "Alfred, we know he's not the real Bruce. We've been trying to find the real Bruce for quite some time now. I'm just..."

"Arkham Asylum," Tim suddenly said. "Shit, shit, shit... Why didn't I think of it. O?"

"Sending a team to Arkham right now." Oracle replied as her projection appeared on the screen. "Good to see you, Mr Pennyworth. Too bad it's under this kind of circumstances."

Alfred gave her a slight nod. "I have heard of the almighty Oracle. The honor is all mine, miss." he said. "And pardon me, I'm not assuming your gender. The Oracle of Delphi, however, were always female." he added just as Jason, Tim, and Dick swiveled their respective heads toward him.

"Of course," Oracle replied. "Arkham team is six minutes out. Eleven to break in. Jason?"

"Okay, like I've said, we've been trying to find Bruce and keep an eye of his parents for a good while. I don't believe he's dead - at least hoping he's not, for Damian's sake." Jason said. "Why Arkham, Tim?"

"We assumed he'd be detained out of town and/or dead and body hidden out of town. But Bruce Wayne is a formidable and well-known face. He's big and tall and memorable. There is no way he could be willingly get into somewhere like Switzerland and not leave without anybody wondering why. Even with a private jet." Tim explained. "That would mean he's still within state lines. What better place to hide someone famous in plain sight than an insane asylum?"

"Damn, boy..." Jason huffed. "So who's Peyton Riley--? Alfred?"

Alfred suddenly gave a glimmer of recognition that caught Jason's attention right away. "Riley, you said? By god..." Alfred sighed. "I know now who that man is..."

It was Oracle that made the demand, "explain."

"Master Bruce had... a friend from a good long while ago. Thomas Elliott." Alfred explained. "I should have seen it through the chess games... He was... an unhappy young man, largely because he was always compared to Master Bruce by his mother. His father was killed in an automobile accident, in which Dr Wayne managed to saved his mother's life. His mother has passed away a few years ago due to... an accident, so they claimed. She has always been frail, especially after her bout with cancer. Thus when she fell down a set of stairs, no one questioned it. At the time, young Thomas has been seen with a young lady who was believed to be the daughter of Patrick Riley, the Irish Mafia. Her name is Peyton.

"Young Thomas has a medical degree specializing in cosmetic surgery. But he was not a businessman. His family's construction company is now in ruins, I believe. And he would have been... poor, if not desolate. But..." Alfred paused. "I daresay he had altered his appearance to look more like Master Bruce. But the demeanor... I have practically raised Master Bruce since he was but a wee child of ten. My father raised him since birth and informed me of all of his quirks and habits. I know the difference between the two like the backs of my hands." the old man fell quiet, although the lines on his face betrayed his calm voice.

Tim was quiet the whole time, but Jason could tell he was actually thinking. "You're reading a little more into this, Tim," Oracle commented before Jason could.

"He has had control over the Waynes' wealth, indirectly, for more than four months." Tim remarked.

"Checking now," Oracle reported. "Nothing out of the ordinary, no major amounts redirected out of the family accounts. Mr Pennyworth? When exactly did you start suspecting that he was not Bruce?"

"He walked in just as that brute, Bane, got in the Manor." Alfred reported.

"Did he say anything to Dr Thomas of proving Bane's parentage through DNA test?" Dick asked. "I mean, Dr Thomas denied DNA testing. And like I've said before, if I were an only child and someone walked in claiming to be my brother, I'd demand a DNA test. At least to be compared to me."

"Either way, if he'd demand to do a DNA test between himself and Bane, they won't have matched. It won't hurt him at all in the long run." Jason reminded. "And he did a DNA match with Damian..."

Everyone turned toward Alfred as the old man cleared his throat. "But he did not, Sir. He presented a cotton swab when asked at the laboratory, stating he hated having his blood drawn." Alfred reminded.

Jason groaned. He had noticed that back then, just didn't think of it much. "I should've..." he sighed. "Anyway, okay." he pulled out his cellphone, reading through the reports that came from the League's agents. "He's heading north, toward the Canadian border."

"The Birds are going through Arkham with a fingerprint scanner and I'm backing them up with DNA tester. I'm absolutely sure that the swab came from the real Bruce..." Barbara remarked. "Can't imagine Talia Al Ghul would be fooled by an impostor."

"I'm putting reasonable faith that Damian is the real Bruce Wayne's son, and that the swab had actually come from Bruce Wayne. That means that within a week thereof, Bruce was still alive." Jason said, trying to ignore the pain that crossed Alfred's face. "You tell me when, Oracle, and I'll deploy my people to get to the Doc and Missus."

"Get them now," Tim ordered. "How soon?"

"Less than ten." Jason replied, punching the commands into his cellphone. "They're rolling. Oracle?"

"I... can't disagree. Tim, you gotta share your plan here."

"Elliott - for the sake of clarity, I'll call him that until otherwise proven, yeah?" Tim started. When everyone just shrugged and not protest, he continued, "Okay, he has at least fifteen minutes ahead of us toward Canada. I would presume that he has made preparations against the League, knowing Damian's ties to them. But he wouldn't be prepared against our resident Rich Boy and his quiver of sharp things," he smirked, showing his cellphone screen. Jason unconsciously smirked, too, as the Green Arrow's symbol appeared. "I've asked Green Arrow to follow the tracker signal I've got from Jason and get Damian. But in the mean time, I think Elliott is planning to dispose of the Doc and Mrs Martha, and then kill Bruce. Why? Money."

"Yeeeah, I don't follow..." Dick sighed. "explain it for us who doesn't have rich folks with inheritance to get?"

"Simple, if Doc and Missus Wayne died at the same time, their wealth would pass on to Bruce, yeah?" Tim explained.

"Obviously," Dick agreed. "And if Bruce died, it'll fall to Damian. But won't it make more sense to kill Damian first?"

"Sure, if Damian is just a street rat from down the block." Jason inserted, starting to see Tim's line of thought.

"Exactly. Damian is not just a street rat from down the block. He's also the heir of the Al Ghul empire, which is considerably larger than Wayne's. I would bet you all of my tiny little empire that Elliott is planning to kill Bruce, and then make Damian state him as the heir. Damian is a minor - in any country. And without Jason by his side, Elliott thought that he could manipulate or threaten Damian." Tim continued.

Jason sighed, a little exasperatedly. "Obviously he undermined and underestimated Damian..." he said. "I hope he'll keep Damian tied down tight. Otherwise that kid might do some facial reconstruction of his own..." to Alfred's single eyebrow-raise, Jason shrugged. "Hey, he was raised by the League of Assassins. Whaddya expect us to have done? Teach him how to knit and sew?"

"I shall be more impressed if you did." Alfred replied dryly. "Regardless..." he paused.

"Oh, and I've got the thing that would undo bone restructuring." Jason suddenly remembered. "It's... well, subtle. But if the restructuring is extensive, it can be quite painful."

"At this point of my life, young Jason, and after all the things that man has put my family through, I find myself lacking the required sympathy." Alfred told him.

"Okay, then... first thing first... How's Arkham?" Tim asked. "Green Arrow should be the welcoming committee as soon as they found..."

"They found him!" Oracle's electronic voice sounded odd with the excitement Barbara couldn't suppress. "Holy mother of all things mighty, we found Bruce Wayne!"

"Green Arrow, you got green light." Tim told his cellphone, commanding Green Arrow. Then he looked at Jason.

"We've got the senior Waynes. Four casualties - Peyton apparently brought in some muscles. She is detained and the Waynes shall be relocated back here." Jason reported as the reports came in from his agents. "Now, Green Arrow, you better make the best welcoming committee fit for a hero on this side of Valhalla for my little bro."

[chronicbatfictioner]

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 23

The next time Bruce Wayne - or maybe faux-Bruce Wayne - arrived at Tim's DI office, he was with Dinah. Actually, they were talking of her own investigation of the possible whereabouts of the real Bruce Wayne and was a little surprised when his secretary announced Bruce Wayne in.

Bruce was followed by Alfred, who has also broken all the protocols Tim knew of: He was staring straight into Tim's eyes as he announced Bruce. Tim may not have long enough rich family pedigree - compared to the Waynes - to have a butler; but he knew the basic etiquette. First and foremost is that a butler should not and will never behave like a bodyguard and glare at the host.

"Mr Bruce Wayne," Alfred announced ahead of Tim's secretary. This, too, was a breach of protocol. Bruce was a prominent person. There was no need for him to be introduced by name. And if anyone was to do an introduction, it should be Tim's secretary.

"Bruce! To what do I owe this pleasure?" Tim greeted automatically, because Mama Janet Drake taught him manners and etiquette very well, thank you very much.

"I want to know why are you snooping around my private life!" Bruce snapped.

Tim raised an eyebrow and prayed that Mama Selina's acting lessons hold fast. "I'm snooping what?" he feigned surprise. "What on Earth are you talking about?"

Just then, Dinah turned her chair around a little, and Bruce's eyes landed on her. True to his reputation as a playboy, Bruce remarked, "oh hello, lovely lady. I didn't see you there. Pardon me if I have assaulted your sensitivities. Allow me to introduce myself..."

"Bruce Wayne, I've heard. I am Dinah Drake, Tim's aunt." Dinah replied coldly. "Now what is this about my nephew snooping? I thought Janet taught you better than that, Tim." Dinah scowled haughtily, an actual scowl on her face that would have make Tim's mother proud.

Tim gave her a withering glare. "Yeeeah, I don't have time to snoop at my secretary, let alone-- What the hell, Bruce?"

"Language," Dinah chided. Tim wanted to chuck a paperweight at her head, if he didn't think she would have caught said paperweight and chuck it back at him.

"You!" Bruce's attention was back at him. "I know you've been asking around my whereabouts during... during Bane's crimes! How dare you!"

Tim blinked twice, and his other eyebrow joined the earlier one. "I've been... I seriously don't know what you're talking about. I think you're confusing me with the cops or detectives or something. Why should I care of Bane's crimes? I mean, I'm glad he's arrested for murder and whatnot and didn't murder me, of all people. But why-- what does it have to do with you? Or me? Or... I'm not even making sense to myself, aren't I?" he spluttered. Deliberately.

If Bruce has a reputation of being a vapid playboy, Tim Drake has one as a Kid. A Kid who was sitting somewhere out of his league and couldn't handle stress. Only the BOD members of DI knew of Tim's intellect and shrewdness. Outside the board room, Tim Drake would always appear as a blundering, awkward teenager whose interests were limited to social media and impressing people his own age.

Getting and sounding exasperated at someone a decade older would be the quickest way to achieve his purpose.

"Okay, hold up." Tim held up a hand before Bruce could speak. "The thing is, I have no interest in your life whatsoever because, well, why should I? It's not like you're some innovative green inventor who can help people by pointing a stick to the ground and make all guns illegal. Or whistle and get a rise out of people to start protecting each other instead of attacking each other. Or..."

"Tim!" Dinah stopped him. "Bruce Wayne. Snooping. You. Point. Ten seconds. Go." she dictated. Because Dinah knew the threshold in which an adult would just scream at Tim for rambling pointlessly.

Tim inhaled dramatically. "No, Bruce. I have not been snooping on you. You, on the other hand, have been snooping on me, I think. And was just looking to divert attention." he stated, adding the last sentence on a whim.

It worked. Bruce's reddish face suddenly turned pale, as if all blood has rushed off of his head. He spluttered something incorrigible, pivoted on his heels, and stalked out; followed by Alfred, who gave Tim an exaggerated bow before following Bruce out.

Tim and Dinah exchanged glances. "Well... that was... different." Dinah remarked.

"Tell me 'bout it..." Tim grumbled, signaling Dinah to keep talking. She did, ranting about rich people and their insolence and other things that Tim didn't really pay attention to; while he prowled the room with his tracker. He found what he was looking for on the far corner of the room: a tiny little bug that would have looked like a crumpled gum wrapper. Tim showed the bug to Dinah, who rolled her eyes.

"I don't care what Wayne said. I'm going to lunch and some retail therapy, and you're coming with me. Also, I don't think that man had showered after his bullfighting or whatever manly activities he'd done recently. My sensitivities are assaulted." Dinah said, glaring at him meaningfully. Tim just grinned. Blonde, buxom, tall - and a black-belt and teacher of several types of martial artistry, Dinah was used to be demeaned and underestimated solely by her appearance. Mostly by men like Bruce Wayne. Tim sometimes wondered if he should let Dinah lead the company for a year, just for the sake of watching her take over and/or ruin a lot of companies associated with those who'd harassed her.

"Retail therapy...?" Tim asked, an hour later, after they had lunch and presently walked along the storefronts of Diamond District.

"Why, yes, Timmy dearest. Didn't you see that good 'ole Bruce has set out a tail on you?" she replied, smiling fake-coyly.

Tim rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I noticed. But why can't I just go back to the office?"

"Why would you want to go back to your office when there's a cleaning crew there? I mean, really, Tim? I saw some dirt and candy wrappers on your floor just now! Ew!" Dinah remarked. Tim rolled his eyes, again. That meant that Barbara has sent a sweeper crew into his office to clean-sweep it for all and any kind of surveillance devices. Said devices may or may not be removed, but they shall be decoyed to high heavens.

Tim momentarily hoped that Barbara would decoy Bruce's listening device to a hip hop club or something.

"Plus, I gotta keep you company to pick up your garb for this weekend's date. I really can't let you go out in your office wear, or in those... plaids... you're so fond of." Dinah stopped in front of a high-end men's wear store.

Tim blinked. "What date?"

Dinah's gasp should have been a category of itself in the Academy Awards. "Why, Timothy! I knew there's a good reason why I came here..." she paused and showed a cellphone screencap on her phone. Tim nearly choked on air when he saw Jason's icon as one of the parties of the text exchange. He didn't choke even after he saw his bold request for a date to Jason when he spotted a fleetingly familiar face of a stranger reflected on the shop's window.

So he was actually physically followed.

And for the love of all things mighty, Tim hoped that the screencap was just a fake screencap. Because as much as he would like to ask Jason for a date, a text was not something he intended to do it with. Yet he realized that it was almost necessary. The boys' bi-weekly chess games have been interrupted more than once when Bruce decided to join Jason, Dick, and Damian on their excursion to the Drake House.

"Anyway, when Babs told me you're going out with him, I told myself, 'Dinah, if that baby nephew of yours go out on a date looking like a Generic Gen-Z, his mama would crawl out of her grave to scratch your face'. So," she presented the store exaggeratedly. "Here I am, to your rescue."

Tim felt a little odd, and wondered if he'd just slipped in to a parallel dimension or something. To him, Dinah Drake was more of a teammate. The Black Canary. Never much as Jack Drake's cousin. His fashion 'mama' was Selina - who pretty much allowed him to wear whatever he wanted.

"Does it have to be here?" he protested. "This... the ties in here could pay a family's rent for two months."

"Baby, you're going out with someone who was raised by the Al Ghuls!" Dinah exclaimed. "Have you ever seen the Al Ghuls looking like a bum? Or in yesteryear's fashion? Goodness!"

"Yeah, but Jason is not an Al Ghul. He prefers simple clothes..." Tim went on with the charade, watching the man outside walked a few stores away. "Seriously, if I buy these, Jason would sneer at me for being a pompous snob." he told Dinah, who was picking up a thousand-dollar shirt. Her eyes, however, would have caught on the follower's new location.

"Just pick one, you don't have to wear it for the date." she advised. "It'll be odd for someone like you to come in here and come out with nothing. We'll get real clothes somewhere else."

Tim sighed, but he paid for the shirt anyway, and made a face toward a surveillance camera, knowing that Barbara would be watching from there. "I'm so reimbursing this thing..." he muttered under his breath.

[chronicbatfictioner]

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 21

Chapter 22

"Huh, and the Birds said I'm their resident conspiracy theorist." Tim remarked as he check-mated Dick's chess piece. Dick groaned in dismay, but didn't fuss. He has to admit that, not only Tim was a much better strategist, his own mind was not fully in the game, either. The game was literally only an excuse for the three of them to go over to the Drake House.

Damian sighed in frustration. "Grayson, really, if you wish to use this game as a decoy, we might as well have Drake and I do a game..."

"That'll keep us here all day, and you're a sore loser." Tim scowled at him. Thus far, out of the dozen of game the two have played, Tim had managed to defeat Damian 4 times to one. Damian was not pleased at each loss and would throw a tantrum, i.e., he would flip the table. Fortunately, each loss happened at the Manor and Alfred was always present to pick up the scattered pieces. "Besides, I don't want to have to crawl under the furniture to retrieve my pieces." Tim added.

"Have you located the Waynes, yet?" Jason asked, clearly changing the subject. After a few weeks of knowing him, Dick has come to the conclusion that one of the reasons Damian's mother had chosen Jason to guide and/or guard her son was because Jason was the type of person who would face problems head on; but not seek it.

"Dr and Missus, yes. They're in Switzerland in a medical conference. Dr Wayne is speaking. We also have an agent in attendance who could tell if Dr Wayne or Mrs Martha are... their original selves or not." Tim winced. "Euh... that sounded wrong on so many levels..."

"Someone is likely impersonating Bruce, and has likely used surgical means to alter his appearance to mimic Bruce. Stands to reason we suspect his parents either being in the know, or have been... 'modified', as well." Barbara commented through Tim's laptop. "So... where is the real Bruce?"

"Won't his parents know?" Dick wondered. "I mean, my parents would have lost a gasket if I went missing for an hour, let alone... how long has it been? Nearly four months?"

Everyone was silent for a good few seconds before Dick realized the insinuation and implications of his words. If their 'conspiracy theory' happened to be true, the real Bruce Wayne has been missing for four months and no one was aware of it. The real Bruce Wayne might have been killed and none was the wiser.

"I'm more concerned that this guy has made an association between Tim and the Birds..." Barbara remarked.

"No, I didn't give anything away." Tim clarified. "As far as he could tell, it had been me who gave the evidence of Bane's murders to the cops. I never mentioned any names, and I made sure to track each and every queries made on me, online or offline." Because Tim would. Next to Barbara, Tim probably has the highest level of paranoia within the gang. Dick sometimes wondered if their respective smartness have something to do with said paranoia.

"Yeah, I trust you won't give away anything. But he's made presumptions. It still scared me a bit." Barbara said.

"I'm personally more concerned as to where my father is. There are a plethora of complications if this man continue to present himself as father, both with the Wayne Enterprises and the Al Ghul side of the business." Damian intoned.

"At least one of us is focused..." Tim muttered under his breath, before looking at Barbara and said, "you remember the lip reading thingy?"

"I remember, Tim. And luckily, I've gotten Cassandra to transcribe it. It..."

"Cassandra who?" Jason suddenly interrupted her.

"She's an associate of mine. She's not deaf, but has a problem with words. She is, though, able to lip-read--" Barbara started, but Jason cut her off again.

"Yeah, but what's her last name? Does she have one?"

Barbara glared at him quizzically. "Cain... I don't think..." she replied, and Jason groaned out loud. "What??"

"She's Lady Shiva's daughter..." Jason replied, and something cold ran down Dick's spine. The Birds of Prey might have prevented Lady Shiva and her men from assassinating Damian, by way of open battles between the ninjas and the Birds - plus the Green Arrow and his partners; and sending a lot of the Shadows' higher ranking men scattered, be it in prison, hospital, or simply left town.

But now, they might have unwittingly placed Damian yet again in Shiva's radar.

"How much do you trust this Cassandra person, Babs?" Tim questioned, a little quietly.

Barbara was quiet for a long time, before answering. "I think it's time you boys meet her. I personally would trust her with my life. I never knew she is Shiva's daughter, but if you see her, you'll understand why I trust her."

Dick watched the exchange passively, wondering if the usually infallible Barbara Gordon has finally made a faulty decision.

And boy was Dick glad that Barbara was not wrong. At least he thought so. No-- he assessed so.

Cassandra Cain was not anything like Dick pictured she would be. Lady Shiva, the leader of the League of Shadows that had murdered the Al Ghuls, were the epitome of a warrior: armor wearing with a plethora of adornments that Dick knew could be weaponized - much like Jason's armor, or Dick's own original Talon armor; head held up high, constantly challenging all and every living being before her, nary a hair dared to escape the tight bun she wore it on; lean but powerful musculature; and tall.

Cassandra was the near 180 of Lady Shiva. Especially now that she was wearing a massive hoodie with 'Gotham-U' emblazoned on its front, sweatpants, and slightly disheveled bob-cut hair with layers that softened her heart-shaped face even more. She has the same Asian features as Lady Shiva, but her eyes lacked the challenging condescension that was prevalent in Shiva, even through mere photographs or video footages of her. Also she has a cute little dimple that Shiva did not have.

Jason, however, did not share Dick's sentiments.

"Cain," he growled. She smiled at him.

"She's not gonna fight you," Dick told him. Her posture clearly did not show offense, or intentions thereof.

"I'm not risking it," Jason scowled.

"Risking what?" A blonde girl in her late teens walked out of the kitchen area. Barbara had decided that they - Damian, Jason, and Dick - ought to go and meet Cassandra on their own, without Barbara as referee. Tim came along, if to keep Damian company while Dick and Jason assessed the situation, in spite of his protest of 'I can guard myself, Grayson!' - to which Tim had replied exasperatedly, 'yeah, but having these two arrested because some good citizen thought they were abandoning a minor in a running car is not conducive to our plans of staying out of sight!'

Logic, the only way Damian would operate, apparently.

"Who are you?" Dick asked. Barbara didn't mention there would be another person there.

"I'm Steph, Cass' roomie. They friend of yours?" she asked Cassandra.

"Friend... no--" Cassandra replied in a halting tone. "Red Ghost," she pointed to Jason. "Not enemy."

'Steph' blinked. "Oookay, you have something to do with Oracle's riddle, I think." she remarked.

"Yes and no," Dick replied, but Jason cut him off.

"Me, I'm just here to see if she would finish her mother's work." Jason drawled.

"Oh? I thought you didn't have a mother?" Steph wondered toward Cass, as the latter shrugged slowly to answer. "What. Wait up. Cass was raised by her dad, who's MIA-- or is it KIA? Anyway! What mother?"

Jason looked confused for a few seconds, and then he stepped closer to Cassandra. Now Dick could see that Cassandra was uncomfortable, and might end up punching Jason. "You don't know your mother, but you know me." Jason stated.

"Yes," Cassandra replied uneasily. But it was Steph who reacted physically first. She put up a hand against Jason's chest.

"Whoa, wait up, buddy. You're not allowed in, yet!" she snarled. Jason was actually a few steps past the doorway, but he stepped back.

"Apologies, I don't intend to be threatening. But you," he looked back to Cassandra. "Did you know who your mother is?"

Cassandra shrugged slowly again. "I know," she said. "Never see her."

"Did you know what she did? To the League?"

Cassandra's eyes were full of questions - and from what Barbara said about lacking linguistic abilities, Dick guessed that she wanted to ask so many questions about his mother to Jason, but didn't know how or what words to use. She confirmed Dick's suspicion when she turned her head to look at Steph with pleading eyes. "Help," she said.

"Look, buddy, Red Ghost, or whatever your name is; Cass has been living with me in the past two years. Before that, she was living on the streets for a year after she ran away from her dad. She's never met her mom." Steph explained, stepping between Jason and Cassandra. "Whatever you think she did..."

Jason shook his head, interrupting her. "Lemme repeat myself, I have no intention to threaten her. But I need to assess whether or not she is safe for me and my charge."

Steph did not seem convinced, she glared at Dick, instead. "And you? You here to gang up on us or something?"

Dick held both his palms up and outward, "hey, I'm actually here to bail him out if he got outmanned." he grinned disarmingly. "Anyway, I'm right, aren't I? Or, rather, O was right, wasn't she? She's harmless."

Jason was still having some sort of soundless, eye-to-eye discussion with Cassandra. Either that, or a game of ninja-chicken.

Both Dick and Steph nearly shrieked in horror when Cassandra leaped onward and-- hugged Jason.

"Uh..." Steph muttered. "We missing something here, aren't we?"

"Uhm... I think so." Dick agreed. And then shrugged at Stephanie's glare. "Don't look at me, I ain't the ninja 'round here." he drawled.

"I ain't, either, but I'm less freaked out now 'cause I know my resident ninja is... kinda hugging your friend. Or is this some method of ninja-disarming thing I don't know of?" she replied.

Cassandra sniffled out loud, and Jason finally looked up and at Dick. "We... have an agreement." he croaked, sounding as if he'd been the one who was crying. "I don't hurt her, she won't hurt me. So..." he gave them a slight shrug.

"Telepathy," Steph nodded, assuring herself. Dick wasn't so sure if he could argue her out of her conviction, or if she would understand the body languages Jason and Cassandra were displaying to each other. "So... you still haven't told me what you're here for?"

"Yeah, I'll... I think I'll kinda wait for his decision for a bit. And tell O that they're not trying to kill each other or something. I think." Dick checked a little over Jason's shoulder. Cassandra was still sniffling a little, and Jason's arms around her looked more protective than stifling. Dick tapped his commlink that would connect him to both Oracle and Tim, "I think we're good here, O." he reported.

"I know," Barbara sniffled, too. "That was... thank you, Jason. Tim, you can bring Damian up now."

Damian's presence in the apartment was... rather anticlimactic, if not downright comical. For starter, there were no quiet, and the bickering between Damian and Tim of 'I can get myself up there, Drake!' and Tim's 'I'm not planning to hold your hand when we cross the street, either, but I'm not looking to get arrested, either, Damian!' were preceding their arrival. Cassandra had looked at Dick quizzically at the noise, and Steph had groaned something along the line of 'I don't get paid enough for this...'

Jason looked unfazed, until Damian burst in through the door after being shoved by Tim. Then Jason closed the door and told Cassandra, "Shiva killed Damian's mother and grandfather."

Cassandra sniffled again, and knelt in front of Damian.

"What?" Damian asked, confused. "While I'm not one against accolades... but what is this, Todd?"

"This is Cassandra. She's apologizing. She has never met her own mother, but has heard of her... reputation." Jason explained. "She felt like she has blood in her hands, too."

Damian hesitated for a mere few seconds, and Dick wondered how is it that someone like Talia Al Ghul, believed to be a cold-hearted killer just like Lady Shiva, could raise someone like Damian. "We do not believe that the child shall carry the sins of the father, do we?" Damian replied. "Or in this case, the sins of the mother."

"No we don't," Jason agreed.

"Then rise, Cassandra, for you are yet to sin against me." Damian said regally. Behind him, Tim rose both of his eyebrows and mouthed 'wow' toward Dick. Dick nodded in agreement. For all of his haughtiness and arrogance, Damian was more pragmatic than pedantic.

Jason's slight smirk suddenly reminded Dick that it was not just Talia who had raised and guided Damian. There was also Jason Todd, the most pragmatic person Dick has ever seen. Probably second only to Tim, third to Barbara. Jason was not raised initially as a member of the League of Assassins. He had grown up on the streets of Gotham. It stood to reason that he would reason��his way out of anything, including Damian's mentality.

"Okay, do we continue this crying fest or-- Hi, I'm Stephanie Brown," Steph interjected, introducing herself to Tim.

"Tim Drake, nice to meet you." Tim accepted her extended hand gingerly. Dick would swear he could see the flicker of interest in her eyes promptly fade as she followed Tim's gaze toward Jason.

Dick sighed. "Hey, O, you have the footage ready for me to show Ms Cain here?" he asked idly, just to change the subject and cut through the sudden concentration of teenage hormones.

"Tim does," Barbara replied. "You kids good there? I need to divert my attention a bit." she added.

"Yeah, there's me for adult supervision, anyway." Dick quipped and switched off the commlinks before Barbara could protest. "Okay, folks, let's get back to business here."

[chronicbatfictioner]

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 20

The dinner was just as Jason expected, bland, dull, a lot of formalities in which Bane was visibly struggling with and did not even bother to pretend to know the difference between steak or salad forks. Jason, Dick, and Tim managed to keep the conversation alive and light, somehow without offending the formality of the dinner. Good thing, Jason thought, that The League had taught him of formal dinner etiquette and whatnot, otherwise he would have been slurping the baiwang with the soup spoon instead of the Chinese soup spoon provided by Alfred - like Bane.

Dick, for all of his lack of etiquette education, won in the manners division - regardless of the fact that Tim was helping him by pointing out which cutlery should be used for what. At the very least, he was not beneath asking what he wasn't sure of. 

The day after was a little duller. Alfred merely informed them that the police were there along with the District Attorney, Harvey Dent, to arrest Bane on several counts of murder. Bane was arrested nearly without a fight - he had been purged of his venom strength and knew that he had no chance against some of the cops who were ready to taser him.

Jason was... frankly, a little disappointed.

"Would've been nice if there was a brawl or something," Dick voiced Jason's thought out loud just as he walked outside.

"Oh, goodness, I'm just glad this is over," Bruce commented, glaring apprehensively at Dick's back as the latter walked away with Damian. There was a good long silence before he added, "I presume now that Bane is out of this house, Damian will no longer need you two? I mean, he has me now - and his grandparents." he pointed out.

"I have vowed to guard Damian until he is an adult," Jason replied simply. Ignoring Bruce's sudden change of expression. "it is my order."

"Well, Talia... no offense. But Talia won't-- is no longer around to hold you accountable." Bruce argued.

"No, she's not. But Damian is." Jason looked at the child, sitting under one of the Manor's massive trees with a thick sketchbook before him. Dick, Jason knew, was on the tree. Even with Bane arrested, Oracle had warned that as long as he's not fully incarcerated in a maximum-security facility, he could still either get out and hurt the Waynes - including Damian. Therefore Jason asked Dick to remain with them for a little while longer. Thankfully, Dick didn't mind.

"He's a child. Children adapt well with changes of environments," Bruce said. "and if you're afraid that Bane would come back, I can hire some bodyguards for him."

Jason managed to hold back his smirk. People always thought that he was there to protect Damian; not realizing that he was protecting others from Damian's temper. Instead, he smarted, "like you protected your parents by sending them overseas."

"Oh, now, that's not fair." Bruce protested. "It was... we all thought that... at least mother and I..." he didn't finish his sentence as he exhaled exasperatedly. "His DNA check is back," he continued after a few moments of silence.

"Obviously, he hasn't a drop of Wayne blood in him," Jason suggested, a little dryly. "Something anyone with knowledge of the molecular structure of DNA would have known right away. You accepted Damian right away because you saw he has your mother's ears, in spite of his green eyes. Yet you doubted your father's denial in spite of the fact that there is nothing on Bane that resembled any of you - including about all of the portraits of your ancestors.

"And then there's something else I realized. Bane came with nothing; whereas Damian came with the Al Ghul wealth. You were more accepting because Damian would not equal splitting the Wayne wealth..."

"That is not true!" Bruce growled. "I would not have turned Damian away even if he was not Talia's child. He is my child, and I know that he is!"

"Then we're back to my initial point: You were unable to defend your parents because you did not have 100% faith in their virtues. The Al Ghuls are known leaders of the League of Assassins, to which the leadership shall now be Damian's. What will be your argument, when he decides to take over the League fully? 'Oh, I can't be associated with criminals, even if said crimes were just allegation and not a video recording of someone snapping off another person's neck'?" Jason sneered. "Now, Mister Wayne. I also would like to remind you, that I have Damian's legal custody. If you insist I should leave, I shall bring him along."

"You can't do that," Bruce scowled. "He's my biological child..."

"You have studied your country's laws, Mister Wayne. But you forgot the one crucial thing: Damian is not your country's boy by any means other than your claim." Jason mentally realized that he has placed one of his ace cards onto the table. But he honestly prefers this kind of conversation not to be had when Damian is present. And from the looks of it, he has packed his sketching materials and was making his way back indoors. "Do not try to deny Damian's access to me, or the League, Mr Wayne. He is not yours to manipulate," he added softly while Damian was still out of range.

"Hey guys, Damian and I are hungry," Dick announced as they went past the door. "Think Alfred would let us have cookies?"

"He's the one who is hungry, Todd," Damian told Jason. "I shall wait until tea time for the cookies. It is only a mere hour away."

"Why don't you scrub up a little? Tea should be ready by the time you're done." Bruce suggested.

Damian's scowl could have killed a cobra. "While I am planning on refreshing myself, father, it would be kind of you to cease directing me as if I am an imbecile," he stated, and for the second time in less than 10 minutes, Jason bit the inside of his cheek to stop a snicker.

Bruce, however, was not amused at Damian. "Well! That is not what a child should say to his father!" he admonished.

"Todd," Damian glared at Jason. "Did you not inform Mr Wayne here that I merely referred to him as 'father' due to common societal practices?" he asked with air quotes around the word 'father'.

"I have informed him that, Damian," Jason assured him.

"Do remind him on a daily basis that I am not obliged to remain here beyond what is demanded by his country's societal norms." Damian continued.

"I shall, Damian," Jason replied.

"Very well, I shall be in my quarters until tea time. You might consider feeding Grayson here, Todd," Damian said dismissively.

"I actually have some matters to discuss with you, Damian, if you don't mind. I think Grayson can fend for himself just fine," Jason told him.

"I don't mind. Let us, then." Damian said, leading the way back to his room.

Jason nodded politely to Bruce and motioned Dick to join him. "Mr Wayne, Grayson."

As they left Bruce, still standing in confusion - probably - Dick remarked, "ouch," softly.

"Go on and get your own cookies, Grayson," Jason remarked.

"I need to discuss something with you, too. You two, actually, somewhere safe." Dick said. Both Jason and Damian paused their steps. "Yeah, and we might need to call upon a certain bird for backup," Dick added, almost nonchalantly. It was not until then that Jason noticed the tenseness on his shoulders. He remembered that Dick, too, was trained to keep an eye out for danger.

"You go on ahead with Damian, I'll ask Alfred if he may have tea in his quarters." Jason decided. Damian nodded, realizing the urgency in Dick's posture, and stepped a little closer to Dick as Jason turned the other way.

Whatever it is Dick has to say, Jason could be certain now that besides himself, Dick would protect Damian fiercely. And/or protect other, possibly innocent people, from Damian's tempers.

He was just wondering why did it seem that Bruce Wayne was so intent on removing him.

And why Dr and Mrs Wayne would suddenly take a trip to Europe right after they were proverbially and literally freed from Bane.

Alfred, as usual, was in the kitchen preparing for tea time. In spite of being Americans, the Waynes seemed to like the habit of afternoon tea time.

Jason told Alfred of Damian's request, and Alfred nodded slowly. "Is Master Bruce still in the sun-room, then?" he asked.

"Last time I saw him, yeah."

"Ah, then... young Jason, may an old man request something from you and your vast knowledge of herbs?" Alfred's face was as impassive as ever when he said that, just a shade before he returned to his task of preparing some small sandwiches. But Jason was a little confused. Why would Alfred ask him for herbs? As far as Jason could tell, he was as healthy as... well, someone Jason's age, which has got to be at least a third of Alfred's; half at most. Jason didn't think that Alfred was any older than mid- to late-40s.

"Sure, how can I help?" he answered, anyway.

"Oh, I was wondering if there is any method you may suggest to... how do I put it... Chafe off surgical remains within oneself? I have had work done for my nose, you see, on a whim as a young lad; and I do not believe it looks becoming on me as I age. I feel as if it makes me look like another person is inhabiting my body, as Master Bruce was wont to say."

Jason blinked, and partially wished Dick was there to confirm his thoughts. In spite of being the exact same height as Jason, Alfred was bowing his head a little as he spoke; and Jason knew that there was a surveillance camera that would be able to record their conversation in the kitchen. His shoulders were tenser than the task of cutting bread would have required.

"Well, wow... okay. I'll need to actually search my books. You know some of the ladies back then would apply something to their skin for scars or bruises. But I'm not sure if it'll work on surgical stuff. I'll let you know?" Jason replied carefully.

"Thank you, Jason, for considering. While it shames me for being vain, it is... rather crucial." Alfred smiled at him.

"No problem, Alf," Jason patted him on the shoulder and made his way back to Damian's room - where each and every surveillance device has been disabled and/or misdirected by the combination of Tim, Barbara, and Damian's own skills.

Once Jason walked in and closed the doors of Damian's room behind him, he was greeted by both Damian and Dick's voices.

"That man is not my father, Todd! I believe my grandparents may still be in danger!" Damian exclaimed as Dick stormed over and announced 'There was an increase of drone activities outside, that's why I brought Damian in!' - followed by Damian and Dick glaring at each other, and Damian said, "Todd, we might need to acquire some new exit strategy!" at the same time as Dick saying, 'I've sent a text to Tim, but he hasn't answered. I've texted Babs, though!'

Jason cringed at them. "Whoa! Hold up! If this is how you two kids report, nobody would need surveillance equipment to hear you from Gotham Harbor!" he snarled. The two promptly stopped and glared at each other again, as if they both were hoping to have Superman's laser vision or something. "Okay, I've heard you both, and I'm upping the ante. Alfred just asked me practically for a method to dissolve foreign objects inside someone's body and allude that someone in the house is not who they seemed. And said someone might be Bruce."

Damian threw his fist to the air, stating, "I knew it!"

Dick's eyes were wide as saucers. "Okay... I would... I've wanted to say the same thing since we got in. But I was kinda scared I might be wrong. What makes you sure?"

"Alfred referred to Bruce in the past tense when talking to me," Jason said. "You? --wait, no, Damian first."

"He looked and behaved differently than the videos mother had shown me," Damian replied.

"I second Damian on this. Well, dude... we need to communicate better, don't we?" Dick said, telling the last bit toward Damian. "I've only met him once, way back when-- when my parents were... you know. But like I've told you, I remember everything from that day as if it has just happened. I remember Bruce Wayne was there with a blonde girl wearing chinchilla fur, a 50s hairdo, and an actual pearl pin. But when my parents... right after, I saw him directing traffic of people out of the tent calmly. His presence then was literally calming, like, everyone was looking at him for direction. This Bruce... generally, looked too nervous on everything; if that makes sense."

Jason thought a moment. Dick was really good at reading people's body language - even the most stoic Alfred. Before Bane was removed, Dick's assessment of Alfred was that he was uncomfortable with Bane, yet very welcoming of Damian. Thus his immediate trust in Alfred. However, since Bane was arrested and proven to not have been a Wayne; Jason hasn't got the chance to ask Dick to re-assess Alfred.

"Okay, I'll retrieve the video footage of your dad from 10 years ago from the League's servers. We'll cross-check. We'll tell the Birds once we're sure, yeah?" Jason suggested.

"Agreed," Damian nodded slowly.

"I'll have Tim keeping an eye on the Doc and Missus while we're at it, though. I mean, you know, precautions and all." Dick suggested.

"Okay, call Tim. If he doesn't answer, call Babs or his mom. I'd like this whole thing settled quickly before Bruce can do anything to harm Damian." Jason huffed a breath slowly, wondering what the hell is it with the Waynes that seemed to run on endless conspiracy theories, anyway.

[chronicbatfictioner]

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 17

Jason was having the time of his life.

Dick was sure of it. He might grump and sulk a lot more than before, but Dick was sure that he was having fun. Sure, guarding Damian might be a little more than tasking, after a while - especially since Damian was so certain that he could face Bane alone if it comes down to it, conveniently ignoring the fact that: a. he's ten and practically one-tenth of Bane's size; b. the Waynes most likely would detest having to clear intestines off the marble floor if Damian were to be let near a katana and/or Bane, and c. Alfred definitely would detest cleaning intestines or parts of Damian off the floor or walls.

And d. Bruce Wayne seemed to actually enjoy having Damian around and has no qualm in talking to Damian as if he was twice his age. Bruce's age, that is. Not Damian's. Dick suspected that Bruce has spent a lot of time talking to 60-year-olds.

But there were numerous forms of excitement that were offered by the Wayne Manor. First and foremost were the cars. Dick has never learned to drive - being a Talon kind of impeded the learning process of 'common human things'. Jason, however, was an excellent driver. He had mentioned something about being a getaway driver in warzones, and Dick couldn't be sure if he was telling the truth or joking. Either way, he rather enjoyed it whenever he and Jason had to take Damian somewhere in town.

Except for today, as somebody seemed to have tampered with the car.

It wouldn't brake, and they were cruising really, really fast.

Hence Dick's belief that Jason was having fun. He did not look perturbed at the slightest as he controlled the car, swerving crazily over the backroads, making sharp u-turns instead of going into the city roads and went back where they came from. Within a mile from the Drake House's gate, Jason finally managed to cut down the speed to the point where the car's engines died and it rolled to a stop. On the Drake House's gate.

"Seriously, people," Tim remarked dryly as they walked in - leaving the car at the gate and settling their respective adrenaline back down. "I've heard of visiting the neighbors, but must you be like, dying and/or damaging people's property before you come here to say hi?"

"The car was tampered with," Damian reported. "Must be the brute. And I shall replace your gate, Drake."

"I think I'm down to like, eight lives. No-- seven." Dick admitted, "my heart's still beating a hundred miles per minute. Good thing, though, at least that way I know I'm quite alive."

"Dick, you're a bird. Not a cat." Tim deadpanned. His eyes never leaving Jason, who had lit up a cigarette as he walked through the house. "Since when do you smoke?"

"Since I was eleven," Jason replied. "And since I walked into a house that has laser triggers that were set up by a lunatic. Smoke worked to reveal them all."

"I'm... partially scowling because smoking kills. But I suppose laser triggers would kill faster..." Tim replied.

"The lasers are used to trigger booby traps just about Damian's height. If he were to be a common kid and run around the house, he'd be decapitated within the first few days." Jason continued bitterly. "What the fuck is wrong with that giant lump of steroids, anyway? He was ready to kill a child!"

"The nutshell version is that the child would prevent his usurping the Waynes' wealth." Tim pointed out. "The long version is that I don't think he's really the child of Dr Wayne, the Waynes know of it, and they're literally being held hostage in their own home. Also, you people are being watched, too, by drones. I've asked Harper to kill those drones for entering my property."

Tim then explained Bruce's visit and the USB. "Oracle has contacted him and told him we... the Birds, that is - are investigating the evidence."

"How long until we can punch the asshole out of the house for good?" Jason demanded, accepting a bottle of water Tim handed him. Slowly and gently. Making sure his fingers brushed Tim's. And Dick had to swallow a grin.

"That, unfortunately, would be up to the GCPD. Did you guys saw the news? Vicky Vale's article on Damian?" Tim... preened a little, waving his hair as he walked away from Jason. Dick's lips itched, he wondered if Barbara or the other girls -- if Selina or Dinah have noticed this. The two were definitely flirting.

"I have seen it. It had good pictures of my mother and grandfather, and quite... adequate descriptions of both of them." Damian replied. "Evidently father has made a comment to the writer about me looking like him when he was my age."

"Well, you kind of do look like him, except for the green eyes." Dick pointed out. Bruce's eyes were blue - like both his parents. But from the photos of little Brucie around the house, Dick could see a little of Martha Wayne in Damian's still-round face. "When did Bruce make the comment?"

"Oh, Vale called him." Tim snickered. "She still has his personal number, and she commented something about hearing a - quote: 'constipated buffalo sounds in the background' - unquote. She was also wondering if Bruce was in a bullfighting ring somewhere."

"Seriously?" Dick laughed.

"Seriously. Even Barbara couldn't stop laughing hearing that." Tim assured him. Jason rolled his eyes but looking amused, anyway.

"Sooo... a possible off-road accident for the apparent heir is in the books?" Jason suggested.

"I won't put it past Bane. Damian...?" Tim started. But Damian already nodded in acknowledgment.

"I shan't eat anything that is not presented by Todd or Grayson, nor will I frolic the manor on my own. This shall be more to bear witness to your insinuation of my 'child-like' behavior than to take care of me, Drake, as I am quite capable of sustaining my own life." Damian scoffed.

Tim paused visibly for a good two seconds, before nodding, "of course. Furthermore, I can assure you that Alfred is safe, mainly because as a butler, his focal interest would be the actual Waynes. That's in his training - unless an offspring is publicly announced, they are not to be cared for by the Butler. In Wayne Manor, the proverbial child would solely be Bruce - for obvious reasons, and Damian, whom Bruce has publicly acknowledged." Tim explained.

"He was in MI6," Jason remarked. "Alfred, that is. Not Bane. It would be safe to say he's loyal. He told me of the booby traps and that Bane has a daily dose of injection of the steroid-like substance. But I-- we shall prepare you emergency rations - just in case, anyway."

"You guys can always drop by here. And don't think that Damian would be Bane's only target." Tim reminded. "If I was him, I'd take out the big guns - that is you two - first; and then Bruce, because he'll want to be protective of his son; and then Dr and Mrs Wayne last."

"Then I'm afraid you are forgetting one of the members of the household that is most dangerous, Master Tim," a voice spoke; Jason pulled out his gun, Damian automatically hid behind him while pulling out a small dagger.

Dick wanted to lunge right toward the source of the voice until he realized that it was Alfred Pennyworth, both hands raised up to show that he was unarmed.

"How...?" Jason growled, "I didn't hear the front door open."

"Apologies, gentlemen. I should have informed you that there is an underground passageway between the two houses that were once used frequently, but now has all been forgotten." Alfred explained. "You were right that I was in MI6, Jason; as you were right that my focus will and forever shall remain the true Wayne blood, Master Tim. Not ones who claimed as such and refused to provide irrefutable evidence."

"Does Bane know of this passageway?" Tim asked.

"It is located in the staff's wing, and as he is not permitted to be there, I sincerely doubt it," Alfred replied. "I have my own... booby traps and surveillance that should tell me if anyone has been there." he smiled. "I am aware that both of you have prowled the entire house at one point or the other in the past few weeks." he nodded toward Jason and Dick. "You were stealthy, indeed."

"But not stealthy enough?" Dick quipped. "I gotta go back to training... Anyway, why are you here?"

"I saw your vehicle's mishap and its stop here. If anything, Bane is not... stealthy enough." Alfred pulled out a small memory card. "To get to the garage, one must pass the servants' hall. And the garage is my province."

Tim accepted the memory card, plugged it into his cellphone; and then projected its content to a wall. "Huh... this should be enough evidence of tampering..." Tim commented. The memory card showed a clear date stamp - that morning, a few hours before Bane and the Waynes left the house. It also showed Bane himself, jacking the car that was now resting with a dented bumper at Tim's gate, while holding a plier.

"Anyone watching our car now?" Dick commented. "Won't be cool to have it suddenly fixed, will it?"

"Harper should be. Plus, y'all are on my property. If he trespasses, I'll have his ass arrested." Tim huffed. "So... if anyone has ideas--" Jason and Damian's eyes lit up; Tim glared at them and continued "--that do not include sharp and/or exploding objects of how to remove Bane from the Manor..."

"I'm fresh out," Jason replied mournfully. "No sharp objects, no exploding objects... what do you expect me to do? Poison him?"

"But Todd, did my mother not teach you the arts of food as medicine?" Damian piped up.

The sudden silence as all eyes landed on Alfred was quite ominous.

"I will not conduct a crime, young masters," Alfred remarked dryly.

"Oh nooo... not a crime," Jason grinned mischievously. "It's just... you know that Damian was born in the Middle East, yeah?"

"I may have quite a culinary skill, but I fear that my Middle Eastern cuisine knowledge is rather limited," Alfred said demurely.

"Well, mine isn't." Jason grinned. "Besides, what else should one do to celebrate one's entrance into such a distinguished family; but hold a family dinner?"

"You're going to poison him." Dick groaned.

"Not to death!" Jason protested. Dick gave him an unimpressed glare. "Just... to the point where he would realize that he and I have opposing objectives."

"Do let me know of the ingredients you require, Jason." Alfred intoned. "Or perhaps you prefer to shop on your own? I shall fetch a new, un-tampered-with vehicle."

"Oh, please do, Alfred. I doubt we can make a single trip. But they will be fun." Jason replied, grinning.

Dick knew that the sense of foreboding was not in him only. Tim looked like he was contemplating moving away to Alaska.

"For the records, I don't know anything about cooking," Dick said defensively.

"I'm... truly and fully reconsidering my life choices," Tim admitted.

"Oh, don't worry, Drake. Todd was trained by the best," Damian grinned mischievously. "I pity the fools who think him as a brute. I pity the brute who think that small equals weak."

[chronicbatfictioner]

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 19

The third time Dick sneezed as he went by the kitchen, he decided to take action. Enough is enough. But he definitely was not prepared for what he would get a faceful of when he opened the kitchen door.

"Too much chili! Abort, abort! This is not a drill!" he choked as he closed the inner door and darted to the back door, opened it, and inhaled fresh air. "Good god, it's lethal in there!" he exclaimed.

"What even..." Damian muttered. "Grayson, there are only two ounces of chili in that Baiwang!"

"Is that why Alfred and Jason are wearing gas masks?" Dick demanded.

"This is to prevent our breath to get into the food, Richard. And they're just masks - paper masks. I can still smell the chili and all."

"What's a baiwang?" Dick asked curiously.

"Blood pudding," Alfred replied. "I must say, it is a... rather unique dish."

"Is it too late to be vegan, now?" Dick knew his face must have turned green. But Jason rolled his eyes.

"It's technically a kind of vegetarian, except for the goat blood. Do you know how hard it is to get blood around here? We had to go to a slaughterhouse, 'fer cryin' out loud. And now you're gonna insult my cooking??"

"'Technically', 'a kind of' bloody," Dick observed the pot that Jason was stirring from a respectable distance. "...those aren't likely things a TV chef would use to describe their creation..."

"It shall be a sort of soup, and the red didn't come from the blood. In fact, cooked blood would look like meat, dark colored," Damian explained. "Mother loved this..." he continued and stopped abruptly.

Dick immediately regretted all the nasty words he has said, and swallowed the rest that he hasn't said. "I'm..."

Damian, however, shook himself out of his melancholy quickly and added. "I requested Todd to make it, and it appeared that father is aware of it being my mother's favorite as well. And its cooking method. He promised he shall take grandfather and grandmother - as well as the brute - out of the house until we are done."

The sneezing from outside the kitchen broke their reverie. "Goodness gracious! How much chili is in progress here?" Tim squawked indignantly. "Now I know what you mean by lethal, Damian..."

"Imagine waking up from a night shift to that..." Dick grumbled, still.

"Seriously, you two are the whitest people to ever white." Jason scowled at them, paused, and glared at Dick pointedly. "...and you're not even white to begin with!"

"Hey, I might have Romani blood, but I was raised in the Owl's nest and they're full of white people!" Dick protested.

"Seriously, though, don't forget to leave some for my aunt Dinah. She loves spicy food." Tim hinted. "I reminded you of that already, haven't I?"

"You did, and will do, you hear that, brat? I'm gonna set aside a portion for a Ms Dinah Drake, the nice lady who likes spicy food." Jason told Damian. The latter scowled.

"You are trying to bribe her, are you not, Todd?" Damian retorted.

"Bribe her over what--" Jason started, but Dick leaped over the kitchen counter and turned Tim around and dragged him outside.

"How about you accompany me for some fresh air here, Timbers? Feels like my lungs are on fire!" he chirped. Kind of. He was thankful, though, that he'd turned Tim just in time for the kid to spin-sneezed and missed the pot by several inches. "See? I'm not the only one..." he added, waving to Jason's grumbled 'thanks for not sneezing into my baiwang, derp!'

Outside, once he was sure he was out of hearing range of those in the kitchen, Tim groaned out loud and slumped to the ground. "Oh I'm so screwed..."

Could be incongruous, could be case-related; but Dick's gut feelings said something else. "Well, I dunno, try scrubbing up nice and you could still get..." he wiggled his eyebrows and grinned mischievously.

Tim threw him a dirty look, and Dick mentally patted himself on the back. "What-ever." he snarled at Dick.

"Oh come on, Timmy! It's not like anyone would be mad if you're mad crushin' on him!" Dick finally started to laugh. "Your denial is... cute. But I think someone like him would want a direct proposal."

"Annnd... I'm officially lost. I don't know what you're talking about." Tim replied, straight-faced. But Dick has read enough people in his life to know a tell when he saw one.

"About six-two, two hundred pounds give or take, a whole load of muscle enough to bring down a pair of oak doors if necessary, black hair, blue-green eyes-- need I go on?" Dick hinted.

"What about that-- that sounds like Bruce, you know."

"Bruce Wayne has blue eyes. Not blue-green. Oh, wait, lemme make it exotic-like, teal-colored eyes..."

"I'm seriously thinking about murdering you and dump your body to the Gotham harbor, but then I worry for the other mutated harbor residents if they have to face your ghost."

Dick laughed out loud. "Oooh... kitten is crushin' hard! Look, lethal gas notwithstanding, we're doing alright. Come back by like, seven tonight, bring a bottle of good red or white wine, and dress up a little, but no suit. Just like it said in Alfred's pretty invitation. If it'll make you feel better, we all get the same invitation - in spite of us living here and all. So..."

"Remind me why we're doing this again?"

"So you can eventually have a real date with--" Dick chortled as he dodged a handful of compost Tim threw at him.

[chronicbatfictioner]

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 18

With Alfred in the mix, it was fairly easy for them to acquire the serum Bane seemed to have injected into him diligently every morning. The Drake Industries' laboratory quickly dissected the remnant within the syringe and discerned its contents.

And make an antidote.

"It's called Venom," Tim reported to Barbara, "a synthetic steroid that is... worse than steroid, I'd say. It doesn't make you dumb, unfortunately. But it also increased the user's strength by tenfold - not just the size of the muscles - with every use."

"I thought Bane seemed to have gotten taller since three months ago..." Barbara muttered. "So you're going through with the plan?"

"I... can't think of a better, non-lethal plan. Alfred said that the supply of syringes is depleting, and he would have a new one delivered from Santa Prisca by the end of the month - which will be in a week." Tim replied. "Plus, I have no idea of the dosage if I were to administer the Venom antidote. Still, I've heard of the rumors of the Al Ghuls using food as untraceable poisons or something like truth serum. But I'm kind of scared to think that it's actually true."

"Me, I'm not surprised. I've sent Dinah and Helena to Santa Prisca, where Bane said to have come from - to find the source and destroy it. Tim, if this thing hits the street..." she sighed.

"We're screwed nine ways to Sunday. I know. But here's the thing, Babs... you see the footage of him tampering the guys' car?"

"Yes, what about it?" Barbara asked.

"His mouth was moving. I'm not that good of a lip-reader, yet, I don't know what he's saying. But it looked to me as if he was talking on the phone or something, and I didn't see him carry a phone." Tim explained.

Barbara's expression - not Oracle, because they were in a secure channel, after all - showed that she just had the same eureka moment. "Tim, if you're right..."

"I'm sure I'm right. Everything I've read about Bane showed that he was mostly the muscle. He broke out of Peña Duro prison - which is where aunt Dinah and Helena should focus their attention - because somebody supplied him with steroids, so the reports said. I think somebody gave him venom, and he escaped. He came back like, a month later and killed all guards and throw out their bodies into the ocean. He came back, Babs. This is someone who was raised in the prison with virtually no known family outside. Where did he come back from?" Tim explained.

"That's logical... he would have to have someone to take care of him outside. Someone who has enough money to get in and out of Peña Duro, or to produce this Venom thingy, and then get Bane to trust him?" Barbara pointed out.

"Babs, trust me. When you're used to be alone, the first act of kindness shown to you would have earned the giver your trust until proven otherwise." Tim blurted out and cringed. The first person ever to show him an act of kindness was Selina, and then Barbara.

"Projecting, much?" Barbara smiled good-naturedly. "I get your point, though. Unfortunately, we haven't got any cellphone bugs in the Wayne Manor to figure out who Bane was talking to. But... I can probably help with the lip-reading part..."

"Yeah?"

"There's this kid at the library who's really good with lip-reading and body language reading. Her name is Cassandra. She isn't deaf, though, just can't talk much. I guessed that she was abused and raised in seclusion without being taught spoken language, to the point where she could understand body language better than normal language. I've been talking to her using signs and pictograms, but she's learning the language quickly. I'll see if I can get her to figure out what was said."

"Okay... is she living alone?"

"I've set her up with a friend of Harper's, Stephanie Brown. They seemed to get along alright," she smirked. "Stephanie is... kind of a talker."

"Cute, a girl who can't talk with a girl who can't stop talking." Tim deadpanned. "But let me know if it works, yeah? I'm a little more anxious with Jason's cooking than the poisoning stuff. They invited me, by the way."

"I'm sure he would," Barbara smirked again.

"What's the smirk about?" Tim demanded half-heartedly. "You, Selina, Dinah... what is it that you ladies talked about behind my back, anyway?"

"Oooh... let's just say the mamas and big sis of the crew is worried that their little kitten is growing up too fast," Barbara replied blithely.

"Baaaabs!" Tim bleated exasperatedly. "What even! We're in a mission here that is of the long-term persuasion and against someone so vile it's not even funny!"

"Tiiim...!" Barbara replied in the same tone mockingly. "I don't mind! None of us do! I mean, hey, if he swings this way, I'm sure a number of us girls would've loved to get his numbers, too! But anyway," she inhaled sharply, indicating her wanting to get back to the matter at hand. "I have no idea whatsoever of what kind of... concoction Jason is planning to use. Or what he's going to do after he arrived at his objective. But everyone's safety is our objective, yeah? And by everyone, I mean all humans there including Bane. If he seemed to be dying..."

"I'll call paramedics right away. And there's Dr Wayne, anyway." Tim reminded her.

"I've got to tell you, Tim, Dr Wayne doesn't look too good..." Barbara warned. "He looked like he's aged by twenty years in the past few months alone."

"Yeah, I've noticed. Alfred is sure that within the house, his diet is fine. But he'd often go out or overseas with Bane..." Tim agreed. "I hope it's just stress..."

"Same here. So far, though, from what I've seen, nothing in Jason's list of ingredients seemed... illegal..." Barbara commented.

"This is coming from someone who once told her dad not to mix hypertension meds with grapefruit." Tim deadpanned.

"Well that one is tried and true, and not a simple old wives' tale. I am aware that some food has an adverse reaction to medications. But really, these ingredients looked... well, like a restaurant's. Like a whole Asian region's worth of restaurants being imported directly from places through the entire continent. And we're literally dealing with someone who was taught to make candies poisonous..."

"'Not poisonous, just lethal' - so Damian told me."

"Comforting," Barbara remarked dryly. "You sure Jason said it wouldn't be harmful to others?"

"Yes, that's what he said. But he won't elaborate. Believe me, Babs, I've tried."

"Maybe it's an aphrodisiac?" Barbara suggested. Tim rolled his eyes.

"Really."

"Selina isn't invited, though. Or Vicky..." she corrected herself.

"Ew, seriously."

[chronicbatfictioner]

"Overall, it wasn't so bad..." Tim commented.

"Except for the fact that Bane roared like a constipated bear and literally lunged at Damian and Jason threw him out the window..." Barbara quipped, her face serious but her lips were still twitching. "I... am highly amused. Twice."

"You were laughing until you bent over double that if you weren't in a wheelchair, you've probably knelt on the floor laughing." Dinah deadpanned. "It was hilarious."

"Yes, it was. The fact that Jason could actually lift Bane and throw him out... Did you guys see Bruce's face, though! Oh my god! He... he looked at Jason as if he'd seen the lord savior Jésus Todd or something!" Tim crowed. "Like, the dude Bane got thrown out a bay window twice. I get the awe, I was a little star-struck myself. But I can't believe dude actually wanted to try the third time until Alfred pointed a damn shotgun to his forehead! I can't even!"

"This thus solidifies my thoughts that the Waynes may be trying to figure out a way to get rid of this... brute without... I dunno..." Barbara pondered.

"Gotten themselves broken in half?" Tim suggested. "He sure insinuated that he would do such a thing to Damian."

"Oh, gee, Tim. Which part of his speech insinuated that? 'You lying bastard!', or 'I'll break you in halves!'?"

"I'm partial to the 'bastard' remark, really. I mean, pot, kettle?" Tim replied, giggling.

"Technically," Helena Bertinelli - The Huntress - sighed as she chimed in; "and ironically, at that; the 'bastard' would be Bane since he claimed to be Thomas Wayne's son and is younger than Bruce. Which means he was 'conceived' while Dr Thomas was already married to Mrs Wayne..."

"Right? Bruce and Talia were two consenting adults, albeit under 20 years old; and were wed in a local ritual witnessed by locals, according to Jason. You should see Bane's face when Jason presented copies of the marriage's registry." Tim continued.

"Oh, we saw, all right. Harper's drones worked quite well." Dinah replied, snickering, referring to Harper Row, one of their tech 'consultants'. "Even at that height, it still delivered crystal clear pictures. I vote we use them again."

"No vote needed, the drones are on stand-by at the Wayne Manor permanently at this point. I'm more interested in his reaction when Damian offered them a DNA test." Barbara told her.

"I'm more interested in Bruce Wayne's reaction, really. He didn't seem too surprised, as if he was expecting this to happen or something." Helena pointed out.

"Maybe he did," Barbara replied absently. "Dude has been swingin' more than the roarin' 50s, there has got to be some juniors out there that even he didn't know of."

"Ugh, while I'm not a fan of Bruce Wayne's womanizing ways, I personally don't think he's that reckless. He's not a drinker or a junkie, as far as I know. He has virtually no vice other than extreme sports." Helena argued.

"I agree," Selina, who has been quietly watching from the corner, chimed in. "This is a guy who got visibly antsy when some sexy girls in bikinis come up to him - I thought he was gay. But if he'd been... wedded to Talia Al Ghul all these times, that would make sense. He knew exactly where he stood, and what would come up if he screwed it up."

"Has Jason or Dick said anything of the Doc and Mama Wayne's reaction?" Helena asked.

"They seemed truly confused, a little apprehensive, but didn't seem to be opposed to the idea that Damian is Bruce's child. Dr Wayne said that a DNA test wouldn't be necessary, but Jason insisted it." Tim replied, and added a little absently a few heartbeats later. "But why would he, a physician with more specialties than a truck stop, would not question the biology of anyone claiming to be his biological descendant?"

Barbara glared at Tim, "excellent question, Tim. If my dad has someone coming out of the boonies saying he's related to me, the first thing dad would do is draw blood."

"They... don't care?" Dinah suggested. "Maybe the Wayne men were less... chaste than they appear?"

Barbara glared at her this time. "Of all the women Bruce Wayne has dated, I've only recorded a handful who would end up in a second date. Less than a handful who were actually mentioned beyond social media photos; and you know how I feel with social media photos: generic, unverifiable, and showoff-only. Dates with Bruce Wayne generally would start with the pick-up, dinner, and then some form of jewelry. I..." she looked at Selina and Helena, "you've both dated him at one point or the other."

Selina shrugged, "I went for a gala dinner, and was honestly there to scope the homeowner's safe, really. I wasn't interested in a follow-up date." she replied. "Helena?"

"Social arrangement. My people called his people and boom, we were on a red carpet." she elaborated. Helena was a part of a mafia family, until she decided that the mafia way would not be the best way to make Gotham a happy place for all, and donned the costume of the Huntress to hunt down wrongdoers. Barbara had decided to let her join to prevent her from going over the line and murder anyone out of overzealous-ness; but also in order to get a line-in into the mafia families.

"No second dates, either, huh?"

"No, I'll have to check, though. I think his people called me again, but I wasn't interested in a vapid playboy, even if he has more money than Jesus."

"Vicky Vale," Selina reminded. "She has had a... somewhat lengthy relationship with Bruce some years ago."

"Sooo... the next answer in our mystery could probably be answered by interviewing an investigative journalist." Tim commented.

"Oh, no..." Barbara grinned mischievously. "Not this investigative journalist. I know just the journalist to talk to when it comes to gossip among themselves."

Dinah snorted a laugh. "I thought you didn't like her."

"I liked Vale less," Barbara griped. "Plus, Vale is already getting news on Bruce's probable child; why shouldn't I send Lois Lane the allegations of the Bane Conspiracy?"

"Conspiracy with who?" Dinah asked curiously.

"Oh, the Waynes, of course, to get rid of the Court of Owls," Barbara smirked. "Why should we be the only ones racking our respective and collective brains when we can have someone else on the ground doing the grunt work?"

"Babs, you can be... pretty evil sometimes," Selina remarked. "I know there's got to be a reason why I like you."

"I'm also awesome with technology and can launder your ill-gotten money and make it legal and undetected." Barbara pointed out.

"Oh no, that's why I liked you." Helena quipped smirking. "Seriously, how many mob family can say their ill-gotten money is accountable by law?"

"As long as it is within the facets of the law, and so on and so forth... Anyway! Tim, you're quiet for more than two seconds. I'm always nervous when you're quiet."

"Just thinking..." Tim said, looking a little lost in his own brain. He often does that when he has at least a dozen scenarios running through his mind. Through the time of Barbara knowing him, Tim would probably be the only person whose claims of 'just thinking' wouldn't immediately be picked on by anybody.

"Care to share with the class, kitten?" Selina prompted.

"It's not fully mapped yet... but I was thinking. What if the Waynes aren't... didn't cooperate with Bane in order to destroy the Court of Owls, and they're literally being hostages in their own home? What if Bruce Wayne has predicted something like this could happen, and has gotten himself all prepared all the way to ten years ago when he wedded Talia Al Ghul? I mean, who would have had enough firepower to defeat Bane other than the Al Ghuls? Look at Jason," Tim pointed out. "He threw Bane out the window as if he was a fly. While Jason is as solid as a rock but isn't a metahuman - Bane is. He was assigned by Talia herself - out of Gotham - to protect and guide Damian-- why? What's so special about Jason Todd? Why did Talia choose him? Why didn't Bruce Wayne - at least - act shocked when Damian said he was his son? Surprised, sure. But not shocked or in denial.

"Who's gonna win if Bane turned out to be Dr Wayne's son? Who's gonna lose? What will they lose? Who is Bane accountable to? If none, who planted the idea of him being Dr Wayne's son? Because from what I've read about him, he was born and raised in a prison with his mother - no mention of a father. His mother was an insurgent of Hasaragua, fighting against US-condoned democracy. And while there was a record of Dr Wayne being there, there was no exact date and length of stay, because he was there privately and not as a part of Médecin sans Frontieres or something like that.

"What about Mrs Wayne? She wasn't a poor or uneducated woman, since she was a Kane. Society-wise, do you think she would have tolerated her husband's indiscretion, both then and now? Yet she kept quiet for nearly two months. She has a Ph.D. in psychiatry, and would she be the ones to keep quiet about DNA testing and all that? Personally, I don't think so. If my mother - a little 'lesser' society lady compared to Martha Kane-Wayne - ever got a word of a child that 'probably' got fathered by my dad, she would have demanded a divorce right away without bothering with a paternity test, sure. But my dad, who was also a society man, would have at least attempted to convince her that it was a mistake and/or it was a lie. What best method to decide a child's paternity than DNA test?

"The criminal front in general - especially the costumed criminals - has been pretty quiet since Bane eliminated the Court of Owls. Why? That's rather stupid since we know that the Court's Talons were the ones who made moves to 'discourage' the costumed freaks. Annnd... that's where I couldn't map out things further." Tim rambled.

"Keep talking, even half sentences are better than none, Timmy." Barbara prompted. Tim might have had a brain that worked a mile a minute, but he was still very young and would often get flustered with himself. Barbara, on the other hand, has an eidetic memory, and things Tim said tend to stick to her brain and would fill the gaps in any puzzles she might be thinking about. Even half sentences.

"Right, I do the fact spreads, you do the jigsaw-puzzling." Tim nodded. "The murders of Talia and Ra's Al Ghul. Jason said they were deliberately murdered in a way that they would never be able to be resurrected through the Lazarus Pit. The perpetrators would be the League of Shadows, a rogue splinter of the League of Assassins. Lead by Lady Shiva. Why? Why were they murdered? Why now and not - say - next year or last year? Who benefited by their death? Aaand... I'm done, for now, I think..."

"I... can feel a headache brewing," Dinah admitted. "You and your conspiracy theories." she rubbed Tim's head fondly. Tim gave her a half-smile, still trying to articulate the thoughts in his head.

"That's why we need him, he takes the most random input and makes a theory out of it, and some of them would actually make sense. I'll start a search string based on some of your questions. If you have more, don't hesitate to tell me, Tim." Barbara realized belatedly that her tone sounded dismissive, and turned to Tim. "Want me to call up for Chinese and powwow a little more?" she added.

Tim shook his head, still glaring blankly. "Thanks, I gotta go... I've some... things to look into. Thanks, Babs," he replied, ending it with a genuine smile as he got up.

"Want to come home with me, Kitten?" Selina asked, worry for Tim apparent on her normally-blank face.

"No, thanks, Ma. I gotta go back to the mansion, just in case, right?" Tim pointed out.

"Then Dinah should go with you," Selina decided.

"She's coming there later, right, aunt Dinah?" Tim asked. Dinah nodded.

"I'll get home with food, so don't worry about that, kiddo." she said. Tim waved them all and then walked out.

Once he was out of the door, Selina sighed. "Ah, young love..."

"Right? Remind me to check in on him before going to the House. I don't want to walk in on something and have him traumatized." Dinah agreed.

Barbara glared at them quizzically, and then at Helena, who shrugged. "Grayson said it first, I think. Our kitten is growing up. I just hope that Jason guy is worth his firsts..."

The memory of Tim gawking at Jason when he thought Barbara wasn't watching flashed in her mind.

Oh.

And then of Jason blatantly checking Tim out just before Oracle made her appearance, and at times when her Oracle projection was turned off.

"Oh boy," she sighed.

"That's about it in a nutshell. Good thing I've told him of the birds and the birds..." Selina grinned slyly.

"Millennial parenting at best, Ms Selina Kyle." Dinah grinned. "Come on, let's go patrol and induce the fear of goddesses to Gotham's low-lives before inducing maternal fear to our little kitten."

"...or to the big tabby. We'll see," Selina added, waving as she and Dinah walked out of the room.

Suddenly Barbara felt a little sorry for Jason. Just a tiny, teensy, weensy bit of sorry.

[chronicbatfictioner]

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 16

Just as Tim predicted, a week later, Bruce Wayne requested to meet him at work. While the request itself - sent through proper channels that is Tim's secretary - it specifically requested Tim by name. It had made a little stir with the other members of the company's Board of Directors, as they all thought that 'little Timmy' shouldn't be meeting the 'big and scary' Bruce Wayne by himself. "What if he manipulated Tim into a merger??" some had asked. It wasn't until Tim assured them that he would not make any corporate decisions without prior consulting - and stating that he 'doesn't like Bruce Wayne at all. He's a doof,' - that the rest of the BOD relented.

Bruce came in accompanied by Alfred Pennyworth, the family's butler. Bane, Tim knew, was accompanying Dr. Thomas and Mrs on a trip overseas. For some reason, the Waynes did not promptly send Bane away, even after he literally and physically got tossed out of the Wayne Manor's living room's bay windows - courtesy of Jason - when he tried to attack Damian.

"If this is a business meeting, Bruce, I would appreciate it if you wait for the rest of my BOD members to come up here," Tim hinted.

"No, no, no it's not..." Bruce seemed a little thinner than when Tim last saw him in person, a little disheveled and worse for wear, which would be odd given the fact that Alfred was right by his side. No self-respecting butler would have allowed their masters to leave the house looking like Bruce then - Tim knew, his dad had one since Tim was very young. Tim might not opt to keep the butler when his parents passed, but he knew the tenets fairly well.

Yet, Alfred just looked mildly disapproving but had walked into the office in the same eager speed as Bruce did.

Tim briefly wondered to whom Alfred's loyalty lies.

"I need... I need to know that there are no recording devices in here," Bruce stated.

Tim took a few blinks to choose an answer, "I'm not of the habit of having recording devices in my office. You, however, came with a tracking device," Tim pointed out.

"What?? I've left my cellphone in the car! Is it... can it listen? Record?" The shock on Bruce's face was more prevalent than when Damian came out of nowhere and called him 'father.'

Tim checked his monitoring system, courtesy of Harper Row, which can detect the type and model and broadcast type of any gadget and displayed it on Tim's cellphone. "No, it just tracks your location and is GPS-based. Why...?"

"Oh thank god..." Bruce slumped in his seat. "Alfred, can you make sure that no one would come here until I'm... until we're done?"

"Certainly, Master Bruce," Alfred bowed lightly and walked out the door.

"Wow, okay... whatever this is has got to be... better be important. I mean, you sent your butler out the door..." Tim commented.

"It is. It's about..." Bruce still hesitated. "Look, I don't usually do this. I don't know why. But you, your work-- your company and its line of business would make you-- would get you in touch with your end-clients, right? The common people who used social security benefits to get their meds, Doc Leslie Thompkins' patients and all that..."

He paused, so Tim shrugged. "I do try to personally meet my end-client to figure out what kind of medications they would need more; and Dr. Thompkins is one of my clients, too, whose assessment I can quite trust. You're not planning to get into the generic meds business also, are you?"

"No, no, no... This has nothing to do with WE. I mean... it should be, in the long run. But in the short run... Look, this would sound odd. But when you talk to your clients, have you ever hear of the Birds of Prey?" Bruce asked. Tim studied the man before him for a good long while. Before he could answer, Bruce continued, "my cousin Kate... she has just gotten kicked out of the military academy. She said she thought of donning a costume and joined the Birds of Prey to fight crime, so she could feel useful again, you know? I told her they're criminals, vigilantes. She said I should go down to meet the common people of Gotham and ask them what they think of the Birds of Prey. And then I thought of you."

"Yeeea... I'm not following..." Tim feigned - but only partially. He could already tell where the direction of Bruce's conversation was trying to take.

"Do you think they're criminals or heroes? I mean, does anybody ever mention them doing like, extortion, murder, stuff like that...?" Bruce insisted.

"Are you like, worried for your cousin Kate or... is there anything of significance that I should know about?" Tim finally decided to just bite the bullet and ask right out. There is no recording device in his office, all right. But his tiepin doubles as a camera that would send to Barbara as soon as Tim turned it on. And he had turned it on the instant Bruce walked in.

"As far as I've heard, the Birds of Prey -- ooh, I hate the pun, but it's right there-- preyed on criminals. Those who take advantage of the weak and all that jazz. I've experienced their... service if you will; when my delivery trucks were hijacked by some supposedly-metahuman group. They stopped the hijacking and arrested the group. They even found out that the group had an inside man right here." he elaborated.

The case was widely publicized, after all, when three trucks in succession that contained generic medications to be delivered to Gotham General and several free clinics were hijacked. The short version was the Birds of Prey stopped the hijacking as it was happening, then the glorious GCPD arrested those men, and they also discovered the inside man within Drake Industries - one of the Directors who had planned to jump ship while sinking DI along with it.

In reality, it had been Tim's work. The Birds - Dinah and Helena - helped with physically stopping the hijacking; while Tim dug out the paperwork and discovered the traitor. Barbara had then sent the evidence to the police, along with video footage of the man talking to a competitor of the company.

"Oh yeah, I've heard of the case. So you don't think they're bad people?"

Tim slow-shrug, just for the sake of dramatization. "I won't say they're totally good people - I mean, them hijackers looked like they've gone 12 rounds with Ted Grant the boxer. And they supposedly have like, superpowers or something. But I'm not gonna say they're bad people - they knew exactly where those shipments were going and who'd be using them, and they worked hard to stop the hijacking, you know. Financially speaking, DI might be able to weather like, a dozen hijacking. But for those people who needed the meds..." he let the sentence trailed for Bruce to fill in the blanks. He knew that the man has the same metaphorical bleeding heart as Martha Wayne, his mother.

"Okay..." Bruce actually looked a little more alive after the explanation. "Do you know how to contact them? I need to ask them for help."

"Oh, wow... Heh. It's not like I have them on my speed-dial... I think they maybe have an inside man in GCPD? They showed up right after I made the report of the third hijacking." Tim hedged, internally cursing himself for not finishing his project of the Birdcall app. The cellphone app would have made it easier for anyone to call the Birds or to alert the Birds of crimes. Alas, the whole issue with Jason and Damian's appearance has delayed its development. Tim made a mental note to assign Harper on it.

Bruce looked disappointed. "I see... then I will need you to relay this to the GCPD for me, Tim, can I trust you? I mean, it's... crucial," he said.

"What is this about, the kid and his guards?" Tim tested, just for kicks.

"Oh, no. The kid... Damian and his guards were actually a kind of reprieve in the household. They made sure that everything would be... proper and in order." Bruce smiled thinly. "It's about Bane. I have evidence that he has murdered a lot of people."

"Oh my," Tim gasped earnestly, really. Jason and Dick, and even Damian, have reported that aside from Bane's obvious animosity against them, he had tried nothing - yet. They were also the ones who told Tim that Bane has placed nanotech trackers on all three Waynes' clothing. Unfortunately, they were not able to actually snoop around - as there would always be one of the Waynes in the house.

Bruce handed him a small USB drive. "It's all here. Please, Tim. I mean, before this, I couldn't care less if that brute would leech all of the family's fortune. But now I have a son to think of... Talia might have made sure he's physically well-guarded. But Bane is a long-con kind of person and is really patient. He came to Gotham specifically for us after so many years. He..." he paused. "I believed my father when he told me that he had not betrayed my mother. But without a shred of physical evidence, there is nothing either of us can do. And how are you going to ask for a DNA sample from someone like Bane?"

"Spoon? Toothbrush? Hairbrush?"

"He's bald," Bruce replied dryly. "I'm not even sure he'd showered. Alfred said his bathroom has always remained tidy."

"Ew. No. Okay. Uh... I can't promise you that any bird would come your way, but I'll figure out a way to let this fall to the right hands, yeah?" Tim replied, putting the USB drive into his suit jacket - where Barbara could remotely access it through the circuitry in said pocket.

"Okay," Bruce looked relieved. "And now, since Bane is tracking me and I'm sure he knows what this building is, how about we come up with a stupid cover story?"

A proposal landed in Tim's sight just as Bruce finished talking. He grinned mischievously. "How about we collaborate to expand Leslie Thompkins' Free Clinic? Everybody's happy, and neither of us won't lose sleep over it."

"You'd have made a great corporate spy, do you know that?" Bruce grinned back, looking a thousand times happier than when he walked in.

"Oh yeah, but I already have my own ways to get secrets," Tim winked as he handed the proposal over. "Have a look at this, and let me know what you think. I think we can spend the discussion over lunch. Would Alfred mind if we ask him to acquire our lunches?"

"I'm sure he would be delighted if he hasn't already..." Bruce replied, getting up and opened the door. Alfred stood there with several paper bags in his hands. "He has already, it seemed," Bruce reported.

"Indeed, sirs. It is most rude to visit an associate without bringing anything. I daresay a quick lunch is sufficient for you, Master Timothy?" Alfred replied as he entered and set up the contents of the bags - several types of sandwiches and salad mixes.

"Oooh, more than sufficient, thank you, Alfred!"

"Not a problem, Sir. Please indulge, gentlemen." Alfred smiled. "Might I remind you, Master Bruce, that the Doctor and Mrs. Wayne shall return in two hours? It would be prudent to conclude your discussion by then." he hinted.

"Definitely, Alfred. We're just talking about what needs to be done to expand a hospital." Bruce grinned triumphantly at him, showing him the proposal. "Mother would be delighted at this."

[chronicbatfictioner]

Exchanges & Compromises - Chapter 14

The ride to the Wayne Manor the other day was uneventful. That is unless one counted the times where Damian had peeked at Tim's tablet and saw the financial report, and suggested that Tim let the Algol Enterprises acquire Drake Industries.

"No thanks, I'd rather have full control of it," Tim said.

"It will be more beneficial for a good size of masses if you have larger capital." Damian reasoned.

Tim glared at him. "But then I won't have full control, will I? So no. I'll keep your offer in mind, but not now, thanks," he replied.

"Am I the only one feeling strangely inadequate here?" Dick quipped. "I mean, we have two minors discussing business, and we, two adult men, looked on not even understanding what they're talking about."

Jason had to stifle a laugh at that.

"Do not worry, Grayson. Once I get into the WE books, Jason or I shall explain to you the intricacies of running a multi-national and multi-faceted business." Damian remarked. Jason bit the inside of his lower lip at Dick's nearly imperceptible eye-roll.

Dick glared at Jason with a betrayed look, "You understood what they were talking about??" he demanded.

Jason shrugged slowly, "I'm his legal guardian, dude. I didn't get hired just because I looked pretty!"

"While I am certain Drake would not mind to hire you just to look pretty, Grayson, I do not understand why you must insist on presenting yourself as a dumb oaf..." Damian commented.

"That's part of his charm," Tim replied, snickering. "That, and his ass. For the record, I didn't hire him for his brain."

"I'm a security guard at the Drake Industries' owner's home," Dick replied haughtily.

"Technically, he's the receptionist of my apartment building. But everybody else thought of him as my bodyguard because he's ripped." Tim explained.

"Ripped?"

"Muscled," Jason explained. Damian was not one for slang just yet. "Most people who got hired as security guards would be fat ex-cops or really skinny juvenile halls graduates, yeah? Does it still work that way here?"

"Unfortunately. That's why most people thought he's like, an 'ex-special forces' security guard for me to keep me from getting kidnapped like my parents." Tim elaborated.

"That would've been a hoot." Dick quipped. "Even without me present, I'd really like to see people trying to kidnap you."

Tim threw him a feigned-hurt look. "How cruel. I've been nothing but facetious and kind to all. Why would they want to kidnap me?" he deadpanned. "Plus, they'll have their respective faces shredded to bits by Mama. Right, ma?" Tim added, calling out to the front of the limo.

Catwoman - without her costume, turned out to be a woman named Selina Kyle - was driving them there, clad in an official suit and jacket and hat of a limo driver. How and why Jason did not know. But given the fact that Tim's parents were kidnapped while in a private jet, he reckoned that Tim would have had rather more rigorous security set up for himself. While Jason was yet to be sure what kind of relationship Tim has with Catwoman - similar costume notwithstanding; he was quite certain that said relationship would have been pretty close and public.

"Nobody gets to mess with my kitten and get away with nary a scar," she replied through the opened divider. "Now, we're half a mile out, because you pretentious rich folks have to make things difficult and far, far away from anything logical. You boys better are on your best behavior, yeah?" she added, referring to the fact that although they had come from Drake House right next door, 'next door' consisted of a few miles of long and winding road between each properties' gates.

She sounded like a mother preparing her sons to meet the Sunday school teacher, and something ached in Jason's heart. A flashback of his own mother, came to fore - Catherine Todd. She might have died succumbing to her own heroin addiction, but she was not a bad mother to start with. She tried to raise him with good values - values often mocked by their own neighborhood. Good manners that didn't matter much around the block, at least until Talia found him and brought Jason to her home. Also, the unshakable faith that there were still good people in the world, and there were people trying to make it better for them.

He wondered how is it that Tim could be so lucky with having two 'mother' figures like Catwoman and Oracle, complete with a biological mother who nearly had it all - especially when it comes to funds. He briefly wondered what it would have been like if his mother was rich.

Then he looked at Damian, sitting up straight in his seat, pretending not to notice the gates opening in front of them. He inhaled slowly, realizing that if his mother had been rich or had lived, things would have been much different - and much worse - for Damian. He mentally braced himself, running all of Tim's schemes briefly through his mind, until the car stopped in front of the Wayne Manor's front door.

The door was opened by a butler, a tall old man with a pencil-thin mustache and grey hair. For an untrained eye, Dick seemed to be the only one out of place, as he looked around and gawked over the extensive driveway and majestic fountain, the regal oak door, and the as-regal butler right in front of it.

For Jason, he knew that Dick was scoping the area, remembering the layout and/or cross-checking it with images that Tim had shown them.

"We are here to see Mr. Bruce Wayne," Tim introduced, formally handing a business card to the valet.

"The formality is quite unnecessary, Master Drake," the butler replied. Jason thought he could see a hint of amusement in the butler's otherwise stoic expression. "I know who you are quite well."

"Ah, but this is not just for me, Alfred," Tim replied, smiling. "The card is his," he presented Damian. "the other two are his minders. I'm just here to introduce them." While Damian, Jason, and Tim knew that to enter a 'high society' family home one cannot simply just walk in through the gates; Barbara was a little surprised at this, and Dick had snickered unabashedly.

'Alfred' accepted the card and read it, and now Jason was sure that there was a slight uptick on the man's eyebrows. "Mr. Damian Al Ghul. I see. Kindly enter, gentlemen, I shall consult the Waynes." Alfred intoned, stepping aside to allow them in.

They were ushered to the foyer, and left to wait there as the butler went to fetch whichever Wayne might be at home. So far, so good; Jason thought. Tim already ascertained that Bruce, the walking-disaster who was said to have broken his leg a few days ago while playing polo, would be home. So would Bane. Dr. and Mrs. Wayne were in the Alps, somewhere. As a common societal norm, Alfred should call for the master of the house - and that should be Bruce Wayne.

It took a few minutes, but Bruce Wayne came hobbling down on a cane - followed by Bane.

"Bruce," Tim greeted him because of course, Tim would be on a first-name basis with him; that 'high-society' boy.

"Tim Drake, in the flesh. To what do I owe this pleasure?" Bruce Wayne chirped, shaking Tim's hand as if it was a pump-handle. Tim's face didn't even change, but Jason could see a scowl beginning to form on Damian's face.

"Well, I reckon this should be a blood-family issue. They came to me because, as you might have heard, I have had some dealings with Algol Enterprises." Tim said. "There has been a tragedy, apparently."

"Oh yes, I've heard. Ra's and Talia... who would have expected them to be in such tragedy... I am sorry for your loss, son," Bruce leaned a little toward Damian with an expression of most-sincerity. Yet Jason observed the scowl on Bane's face, followed by Tim's stealthy, nearly imperceptible eye-roll.

"My thanks for your condolence, and am as sorry for your loss, father." Damian retorted, cutting straight to the case.

Jason would swear that he could hear a single surprised chirp of a bird somewhere in the vast area of the manor in the silence that followed. Broken only by a guttural roar.

[chronicbatfictioner]

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 13

"Grayson? Are you awake?" the tiny little voice was unmistakably scared. The Court has trained Dick more than enough to recognize fear in a human being, and complimented on his natural ability to read people. If asked, he would say that children would be the easiest to read.

Except for Damian.

According to Jason, Damian has been trained by his mother and grandfather, and a plethora of trainers, to eventually take the mantle of the Demon Head from Ra's Al Ghul. His trainers, including Jason, have joked that it might take a while; because Ra's was believed to be an immortal. He has the magic fountain of youth called the Lazarus Pit that could even revive the dead and has been using it in the past 300+ years. Or so the lore said.

Behind Damian's back, Jason has also told them that both Ra's and Talia were decapitated and their heads were missing. The Lazarus Pit might be able to revive the dead, except it required the important organs of the body to be intact; e.g. head, heart, lungs, etc. Dick reckoned that the heads were removed exactly to prevent the use of the Lazarus Pit.

"You need something, buddy?" Dick replied.

"Not at the moment, thank you," Damian replied, taking a seat next to Dick's station next to the door. "I can't sleep." he admitted.

"Nervous for tomorrow?"

Tomorrow they were going to the Wayne Manor, through a convoluted route that Tim has come up in order to avoid detection by anyone who might want Damian to a. not meet his father or b. kill him to take full control of the League of Assassin. Yeah, neither scenario appealed to Dick, but the little voice in his head said that scenario b might be preferable than scenario a.

Dick never understood men who denied their children of their presence. He remembered his dad, a poor circus performer, who would even give small shows for kids who couldn't afford to watch the aerials - walking on his hands, random somersaults, teaching them how to somersault. He remembered Tim's crestfallen face when he couldn't go and watch Dick perform that day - albeit it turned out to be a little more beneficial for Tim in the long run. He remembered his dad telling him that "whatever little things you show those kids now would make them feel that they are loved and cared for, even if they don't have money. And they'll remember you forever."

"I do not understand nervousness," Damian replied plaintively.

"No, but your brain is giving you signals that make you anxious, you know? Like, you're wondering what's gonna happen tomorrow, and a thousand of scenarios would run to your head. That's... the chemical imbalance is called 'nervousness', I think." Dick explained. Jason has also warned him that Damian hated being treated like a child. Jason has been the only person other than his mother or grandfather who was 'allowed' to discipline him and tell him 'no'.

Still, adult body language and attitude notwithstanding, Dick could see and recognize the child Damian still was.

"Soo... when I couldn't sleep, my mother used to read to me. I mean, obviously I could read on my own by then. But there's just something... I dunno, maybe my subconsciousness just calmed down at the thought that she was there with me. Whatever would happen tomorrow, she would be there, too, to proverbially catch me when I fall, you know?

"I know it's... hard, that... you know that your mother is gone and all. But the thing is - like Tim has told Jason, whatever will happen tomorrow with your biological father, you'll still have a home with us." Dick said, eyeing Damian sideways to check if he was offended or not.

"I have a home with the League of Assassins," Damian stated haughtily. "Jason has informed me that there is a difference between underlings and friends. I gather what you are saying is that I shall have you as friends - as contemporaries - rather than an underling, as you all seem to revere to this Oracle person."

"See, Oracle is not really our... supervisor. Oracle is a really good friend who believes that we all could be good and showed us how. I..." Dick hesitated as he was about to say 'she' to designate Oracle. "When Bane killed off the Court of Owls and almost all of the Talons, I was lost. But then I remembered this person. Through the years of my training, this person had somehow remained in my memory. And the first time we've met was literally a few hours before it turned to be the worst day of my life, the day when my parents' were murdered. Before that, I was playing outside, performing tricks for the kids who couldn't get in the aerial shows. Oracle was there and told me that I was a 'good person' after I was done. I don't know how or why, but it stuck with me.

"I am a Talon, I am trained to kill those who hurt Gotham City. I have done so many despicable things that... I dunno, common people might simply see me as... as a vile person. A criminal psychopath. But not Oracle. Oracle and Tim opened their doors, asked me to join them to help them make Gotham better for the common people. Because they believed I'm a good man. I've been here for barely three months, and I'm enjoying myself. Sure, the fights were harder and viler than when I was Talon - especially since the criminals now seemed to have superpowers and no longer fear the sight of a Talon. But I do it because I know they count on me to make it work. And because I know that whatever will happen, I'm not alone. I won't be hiding in a nest somewhere alone, tending to my own wounds. I won't have to wonder where I'll get my next meal from, or if I'll have a warm place to hide in..."

Dick was really just rambling because it has been a long time since anyone would listen without judging or being wary of what his intentions were. But then he felt a weight on his side and looked. Damian was leaning on him, eyes closed. He twitched a little when Dick quieted down.

So Dick continued, "It's been a while... a good long while since anybody listened to me and not take my opinion as being counted. As a Talon, I was to do as told. The 'how' would be the only thing in my discretion. The who, where, and when, were all decided. The 'why' should never be asked. Here, my opinion counts - except on wearables. I don't know why.

"Therefore, Damian. Oracle is not the 'leader' of us. I'd rather see Oracle as our pillar of support. I know a lot of the Oracle to consider... them--"

"Her," Jason's voice suddenly corrected him. "We know she's a female, Dick. Don't worry. We're not interested in figuring out who she is, yet." he smirked. "Subliminal marketing, much?"

Dick chuckled. "More like a bedtime story for the real-life assassin-slash-heir youngster," he replied. "How long have you known?"

"Pretty much the first fifteen minutes after her projection showed up. Her reactions of yours and Tim's antics were kind of like--" Jason paused and swallowed. "Talia's when we did the same..."

"You cared for her," Dick concluded.

"She took me off the streets and give me a home and purpose. So yeah, I cared." Jason replied. "So how did Oracle became your personal muse?"

"She has... uhh... distinctive features that caught my eyes then, I guess. Can you imagine that? I was like, ten years old." Dick grinned. "Puberty pre-kicking, I guess. But I'd picked the right person, I think. Most of the Talons forgot who they were after the training. I still remember that I'm Dick Grayson, son of John and Mary; once one of the best family of aerialists in the world." he said. "Was it anything like that in the League's training? Do they want you to forget who you were?"

Jason snorted. "No, if anything, they want you to remember and remember how bad it could get if you're not there."

"Was it that bad for you?"

Jason shrugged. "I'd probably end up as a hooker by the end of that week if Talia didn't get me outta Crime Alley." he replied. "that, or dead, or jailed. Whichever got to me first."

"Oookay..." Dick looked at Damian, who was fast asleep. "Think he'll wake up if I move him?"

"Naah, I'll move him." Jason offered and picked up Damian easily. Damian stirred a little but settled his head on Jason's shoulder. "Thanks. I got the feeling that if this daddy stuff doesn't work out, he'll be adopting you," he added.

Dick snorted a soft laugh. "Yeah right..."

But regardless, he did spend the rest of the night wondering if Bruce Wayne would rise to the occasion, or sink to his playboy reputation. Even the Court never bothered to pay him much attention, largely due to his larger-than-life obnoxiousness. He wondered if Damian would indeed be better remaining there, at the Birds of Prey's lair.

His last thought before succumbing to sleep was, at least there's Jason, who seemed to be the voice of reason for Damian...

[chronicbatfictioner]

Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 12

It was decided then that the Talon - Dick Grayson - should accompany Jason to the Wayne Manor. The Oracle has decided that being the only one without 'attachment', i.e. normal people's identity that could be used against them.

The pretty little kitten's name, Jason eventually found out, was Tim Drake. And he would be providing one of the exit strategies. His home, apparently, was right next to the Wayne Manor. His words about knowing of losing parents through violence only made sense after Jason googled the name, and discovered the news article on the kidnapping and murder of Jack and Janet Drake, Tim's parents. It was apparently quite a news back then, only Jason never heard of it since he was already residing in Eth

He was right when he guessed - mostly through his manner and speech - that Tim Drake was rich. The Drake House - although smaller than the Wayne Manor - was still bigger than most homes in the suburbs that Jason knew of. Plus there was a massive yard, sky-high fence, several garages, a greenhouse, and a garden.

And then there were the tunnels.

Tim said that according to the Waynes' side of the architecture, the tunnels tend to lead to nowhere, and were not sturdy enough to be explored. Tim, however, had explored the tunnels when he was really little - as in ten-year-old 'little' and discovered that most were natural tunnels and have exits.

"I hope you've explored with someone who's like, my size." Jason reminded him just as they laid down the plans to him.

Tim glared at him top-to-bottom and then glared at Dick.

"Yeeeah... he's definitely not my size." Jason pointed out. Dick might have been muscular, but more on the lean side. Jason was built like a brick house and a few inches taller and wider than Dick.

"If it's any consolation, I didn't need to squeeze through anything when I went," Dick told him.

"I'll map the dimensions of the exits, anyway, just in case. We went with cameras back then." Tim said. "And now that we've covered the exits, how about the entrance? Would you rather walk right up there and say something along the line of, 'hey, I'm here to deliver the next Wayne heir. And by the way, you owed Talia Al Ghul some child support, but on the bright side, you won't need to pay 'em anymore,'?"

"Yeah, that sounded like a really quick way to get into an altercation." Jason retorted.

"I advise you, Tim, to take them there. Sort of like safety in numbers scenario - whatever happened, the Waynes won't be able to... make Jason and Damian 'disappear' because someone else already knew of their presence in Gotham." Barbara advised. "I've put the articles on stand-by, and shall have Vicky Vale start sniffing around by one week."

"We've got Grayson here as an extra pair of watchful eyes, so to speak. I don't think they'll do anything dramatic." Jason reminded. "Also, if they think they could kill me and take Damian just like that, they might be in for a surprise. Damian isn't... easily persuaded through blood and gore." He stopped short of accidentally revealing that the 'training' he and Damian returned from when they discovered the death of Ra's and Talia at the Algol Island had been Damian's 'training' in death and destruction. Colloquially referred to as the 'Year of the Blood', Damian was sent to retrieve a number of relics from around the world; most held in private collections by colonists who had acquired said relics from native people by force. Combine 'acquisition' and 'force', it was safe to reason that said 'colonists' would have had armies protecting the relic. And Damian had gone through them fairly easily.

And bloodily.

But that was not something Jason would reveal. It would be up to Damian's discretion - later or never - to tell his father. Surely he would not wish to have such thing revealed to a group of people calling themselves 'heroes'.

"I'm in favor of the more the merrier, really. In spite of me being the so-called 'extra' pair of eyes, Tim Drake has higher visibility when it comes to... well... the common people..." Dick remarked. "There might not need to be blood and gore in the immediate future. Plus, I'm not there as a Talon."

"You're there as Damian's guard, the White Ghost. Anyone familiar with the lores surrounding the Al Ghuls would not suspect a thing..." Jason started.

"Can I be the blue ghost, instead?" Dick wanted to know, grinning impishly.

Tim, too, was grinning impishly.

"What," Jason growled, suddenly realized that he was being played.

"I kinda liked blue better than white, y'know?" Dick replied.

"You're not taking this seriously, are you?"

"Oh, I am. I mean, there's a kid's life on the line; a lot more money than I'd ever seen if they were in the form of unpopped corn kernels; heritage; people of Gotham, etc, etc... why wouldn't I take this seriously?" Dick replied as he walked away from the table. "But I still think I look better in blue, right?" he added, pulling out a set of costumes from the cabinets. It was modeled after Jason's costume - "to have a more cohesive look between us," Dick had said. And it was in blue, whilst Jason's was in green.

He groaned exasperatedly. "There is no blue ghost in our ranks..."

"Well, they don't need to know that, do they?" Dick reasoned.

Jason glared at Tim for help. But the boy shrugged, "he's had that made since the day you came. He actually has several sets of those... He said your outfit made for pure awesome day clothes. I, too, worry about his fashion sense."

"Why." Jason partly wanted to know, partly wanted to know what the hell he'd done in the past that landed him with the Marx brothers right there. His costume would work well for the desert - where the Al Ghul's strongholds were mostly at; the jungle surrounding the Al Ghul Island where Damian and Talia would reside during the summer months; or in combat. For daily use, however, Jason would have worn normal suits. "For the love of all things mighty, you folks didn't look through my suitcase, did you?"

"Oh, we know of the suits. The normal people suits, don't worry. I have those made for Dick, too - in blue as per his insistence." Oracle intoned. "And no, Richard, you are not wearing costumes when you walk to the Waynes' front door."

Thank god for the voice of reason.

"Aww... buuuut, it will be more impressive!" Dick wailed, dead-set looked crestfallen, and gave puppy-dog eyes toward Oracle. Jason sighed again. For what seemed like the umpteenth time of the day.

"No means no, Dick. Now, if you'd come up straight from the desert and whatnot, that wouldn't be so strange. But you - and by 'you' I meant Jason and Damian - arrived in Gotham more than a week ago and stayed at the Ritz, 'fer cryin' out loud!" Oracle snapped back.

"Ritz this ain't, but I agree, if we've stayed at the Ritz, there would be questions as to why hasn't anyone seen us. My costume isn't exactly made for urban living." Jason pointed out. Dick was still sulking, but it looked like he - thankfully - finally conceded.

"Fine, I'll wear the monkey suits..." he grumbled. Jason mouthed a 'thank you' toward the projection.

"Okay! Next, backstory excluding the fact that... Talia and Ra's' being murdered and stuff - that what you're planning to say right, Jason?" Oracle continued, ignoring Dick's whines.

"Yes, there's no point in hiding it since Wayne would want to know who the mother was, and we have set out news stating Ra's and Talia Al Ghul being killed in an airplane crash," Jason told her.

"I've seen that news and marked all the news portals that mentioned them. I would like you two to keep an eye on Bane's reaction, as minute as they might be. Dick?"

"Got it. If he as much as breathe wrong in Damian's direction, we kill him." Dick replied. To Tim's and Jason's withering glare, he demanded, "what?"

"Why can't we just have Tim accompanying me, anyway?" Jason finally blurted. "He could jeopardize the whole thing."

"No, he's not. He's just pulling that one out of his ass. He's not gonna kill anybody, right Dick?" Oracle prompted. "Plus, it would be fairly odd if Tim Drake accompanies you, as he himself is quite a well-known individual within the city."

"Hhh... alright..." Jason still grumbled but decided to let it go for now. There were far more important objectives to be had.

"I much prefer Grayson to be with us as well, Jason." Damian suddenly piped up. He has been sitting there, at the head of the table, watching the processions. "With most adult's predisposition to undermine non-adults, Grayson's presence there could deter anyone from trying mischief right away." he reasoned. "Timothy, while I daresay have sufficient combat skills when required, has the benefit of being a public persona while being a child and thus would not come across as strange that I - as a child as well - should come to him first and foremost for assistance."

"Why, thanks, Damian. I think..." Tim replied.

"That is... quite an interesting psychological insight, and validated our plan, I think," Oracle remarked after a few seconds of silence. "Okay, gentlemen? Shall we get the plan rolling, then?"

"We shall," Damian replied. "I cannot wait to see how my father will react."