#batcomputer: access denied

[rewrittenwrongs]

Bruce freaking the fuck out because someone vandalised his son’s grave. He is pissed, and so sick at the thought of seeing what they did to the coffin that he barely even tries to look. Tim is the one who checks if the robbers left anything behind or did something to Jasons body, and is shocked to see an empty coffin. Then he remembers how paranoid Bruce is and the sensors he put in the coffin, but strangely enough none of them were activated. Then he remembers; the sensors only go off if the coffin is breached from outside. And upon inspection the wood certainly seems to be breaking outward…

[galaxymagitech]

Graveyard

Written for Dick Grayson Anniversary Week: Day 4 Prompt: Batman's Most Trusted

@dickgraysonweek

Summary: No one comes to save a mourning Bruce from himself. Until, months after Tim would have stepped in, Dick notices Bruce's recklessness on a League Mission. He returns to Bruce's side to help him back into the light, but ends up following him into the darkness instead.

Characters: Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Jason the Narrative Ghost

Warnings: Referenced death of a family member, dissociation, discussions of suicidal thoughts in a non-POV character, brief mentions of rape (specifically, Felipe Garzonas’s crimes, not of any main characters). Mild gore? I don't think it's that bad, but it's slightly present.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. Bruce had made it clear that he didn’t want to see Dick again, not after their confrontation over Jason’s death. But there was an emergency, and the Justice League had called for all available heroes to come and help beat back the robotic alien army. And Dick, well, of course he came. Normally he’d be leading his own team during a situation like this, but he was on break from the Titans and he didn’t want to mess with their leadership structure. Indecision in battle is dangerous, and if the Titans weren’t sure who to listen to…it wouldn’t be good. Clark had asked Dick if he was sure he wanted to join the main Leaguers—he knew that Dick and Bruce aren’t on best terms right now, even though he likely doesn’t know the details. But Bruce is professional and Dick should be able to keep his head in the game.

Should being the keyword. And yet he can’t stop watching as Bruce faces off against twelve robots, because something…something is wrong. His heart nearly leaps out of his chest as an energy beam misses Batman by an inch. Bruce should’ve dodged that. Easily. The man doesn’t try to split up his opponents, lead a group of them off to dispatch separately. No, he fights all of them at once. When a blow from one of their four arms strikes him in the stomach, Bruce doubles over. He grins, even as blood drips between his teeth, dribbling down his chin and into the snow.

Focus, Dick orders himself as he dodges an energy beam and rolls between one of the robot’s eight legs, scoring its underside with a batarang.

Batman spins, his cape a whirlwind as he pulls two more robots into the fight.

Dick watches an energy beam scorch Bruce’s arm, and suddenly it clicks. Bruce isn’t trying to keep himself safe.

This is all wrong.

---

Dick may have given his keys to Alfred—or, tossed them away in the Batcave where Alfred would find them, at least—but his Batcave access hasn’t been revoked. He had thought it might be, after the way he left, but he had other plans for if this didn’t work.

It’s 4 PM. Bruce should be upstairs in the Manor, but he’ll come down eventually. In the meantime, Dick has a case that he picked up in New York with potential ties to the League of Assassins. He needs to analyze a sample of poison, and the Batcomputer will be useful for that. Dick could probably call up Clark and get access to some Justice League equipment, but…the Batcomputer is probably best for the job.

It's a convenient excuse. Dick might not be allowed in the Manor, but Batman wouldn’t deny Nightwing access to the Batcave’s equipment, not when it could save lives.

This is going to be awkward as hell, if it doesn’t devolve into Round Two. But Dick can’t just stand by while Bruce gets himself killed.

Fuck. That’s what’s happening, isn’t it? He knows—he knows that Jason’s death hit all of them hard. Dick and Alfred, hell, the entire superhero community…but especially Bruce. He knows. But Dick never would’ve expected this. Not of Bruce.

When Dick climbs off his bike, he finds that the Batcave is not empty. In fact, Bruce is hunched over the Batcomputer, cowl off but uniform still on, the same burn marks from the fight still present. Bruce turns around at the sound of Dick’s footsteps, and Dick sees a bruise on the man’s jaw that wasn’t there before. He went on patrol, didn’t he? That reckless idiot. No patrol after League missions unless absolutely necessary, and Dick’s kept an eye on the news—it wasn’t necessary at all.

“Dick?” Bruce asks, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. His voice is hoarse from exhaustion and his eyes are glazed. Dick doesn’t think Bruce has slept in days.

Dick pulls the poison sample out from his pocket and holds it up. Instead of the nod of acknowledgement Dick was expecting, Bruce’s shoulders slump.

“You need access to the Batcomputer?”

“Yeah,” Dick says softly. “Have you slept in the last forty-eight hours?” Bruce grunts in the negative. Yeah, Dick thought so. “Seventy-two?” Another grunt. Dick steps closer. He can see the bags under his father’s eyes, the exhaustion evident in his normally military posture. “I’m worried about you, Bruce,” he admits.

Surprise flickers across Bruce’s face. “I’m…relatively uninjured.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Dick says. Bruce looks off to the side. Dick walks over to stand by the second chair by the Batcomputer, the one normally reserved for Robin, and hovers there, uncertain.

“You should…you should sit,” Bruce says gruffly. Dick sits. He thinks they both know that this means something. “What is the sample? Do you need help with it?”

This is definitely a distraction tactic, but the sample is important too, so Dick takes the vial out of the plastic bag he was keeping it in and places it in one of the machines attached to the Batcomputer. The two vigilantes fall into a practiced rhythm, cycling through tests and databases until Dick’s fairly certain that the poison is a paralytic that comes from a region close to a League base in the Amazon. He wants to keep working, find something else that they haven’t considered yet, just to keep this comfortable companionship with Bruce. He misses it so much. But he came here for a reason. “If you keep this up,” Dick says as he turns back from the hazardous waste chute, “you’re going to get yourself killed. And I’m worried that you don’t seem to care.”

“I’ve always been devoted to my work,” Bruce argues, even as he doesn’t outright deny the accusation.

“Not like this,” Dick says. He looks around the cave, the mess of files cluttering the medical cots, the dust on the giant penny, the number of windows open on the Batcomputer. “Not like this,” he repeats. “Bruce, you need to slow down and…and think. How many of those blows could you have dodged during that battle? How many of your injuries could you have healed if you stayed in the League infirmary for even an hour?”

“That’s not your concern, Nightwing.”

“It is! Bruce, I…” Dick feels his heart clench. “You’re going to get yourself killed. It’s…it’s terrifying. I know after…” He trails off. “I know after everything, it’s hard. I get it, okay? But this? You can’t do this.”

Bruce’s fists clench. “I’m taking all normal precautions. You don’t need to worry.”

“I think I do, Bruce. You’ve never been reckless like this before. I mean, what does Alfred think?”

“Alfred left,” Bruce says shortly.

What? “He’s coming back, right?”

“…I don’t know,” Bruce admits. He shifts uncomfortable. “Alfred…he said he couldn’t stay and watch this. So I asked him to take a vacation.”

“And he left? Just like that?” Alfred has dealt with a stubborn Bruce for far too long to just leave when commanded. There’s something that Bruce isn’t saying. And Bruce is perfectly capable of hiding things, so either this is something so bad that Bruce can’t hide it or, deep down, Bruce doesn’t want to hide it.

“There was a fight with Two-Face. It went badly. Alfred…had the same opinion that you do now.”

“Holy shit,” Dick says. “And you think you’re just fine and dandy?”

“I think,” Bruce says slowly, “that how I fight is my business.”

“Not if…not when you’re like this.”

“I’m fine.”

“Would you tell me if you weren’t?” Dick takes a deep breath and accesses the post-patrol reports, running a quick script. The list of injuries—far, far more extensive than it should be—prints out before his eyes. Dick’s stomach turns.

“You shouldn’t be looking at that,” Bruce says, almost apologetically.

“Then you shouldn’t get hurt,” Dick hisses. “What the hell, B? This isn’t…this isn’t recklessness.” He can’t bring himself to say the proper words. “This is deliberate.”

The air sits heavy in the Batcave. “I think you should go,” Bruce says.

“No.” Dick takes a deep breath. After seeing this…his breath catches as he stares at the list, and he forces himself to look away and face Bruce. Dick can’t leave. “I’m not leaving you alone. I shouldn’t have left you alone while you were grieving, but…I can’t. I can’t leave and come back to realize you’re dead. Don’t do this to me, Bruce.”

“I’m not—”

“Bruce, please.”

“Dick, you’re making—”

Yeah, Dick doesn’t want to hear how that sentence ends. “You clearly don’t care if you live or die.” Dick stands up. “Well, guess what, asshole? I care! I’m staying here where I can keep an eye on you and make sure I don’t wake up one day to the news of your corpse. And if you don’t want me to stay, then I’ll just live in the Batcave! And—and if you kick me out of here too, then I’ll follow you on patrol and fucking tranq you and take you to Clark. So what’ll it be?”

“Dick—”

Dick can feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He rarely cries anymore, but all he can think of is losing Bruce, so soon after he lost Jason. Dick can’t do that. He can’t lose another father, another family member. Not like this. “Jason wouldn’t want you to die, Jason would want you to live. And I need you to live. So I’m going to make damn well sure you do, no matter what you say!”

“Chum, I—”

Fuck, the tears are falling now. Dick wipes his eyes with his sleeve. “I don’t care if it’s selfish, you are not going to die. I won’t let you.”

Suddenly, Dick feels Bruce’s arms around him, pulling him close. Dick sinks into Bruce’s chest and slings his arms around Bruce’s waist. Bruce is alive. Dick will make sure he stays that way. He won’t lose him.

“If you’re willing to stay, I would…I would greatly appreciate it,” Bruce says. He doesn’t pull away. Dick clings close, afraid to let go.

---

On patrol, Nightwing sticks close to Batman’s side. It should be suffocating, but it’s better than the fear that freezes his lungs whenever the two vigilantes get separated. Dick leaps into fight after fight, brandishing escrima sticks and cracking jokes like it’s the only thing that’ll keep him afloat. Dick is painfully aware that if he can’t keep a light heart, then no one will. There is no Robin around to light the way. Nightwing will have to be enough.

It's hard, though, when Dick sees Jason on every rooftop and the Joker laughing in every shadow. It’s hard, when Dick realizes he hasn’t contacted his friends for two weeks—and none of them have contacted him. It’s hard, when Dick and Bruce trade nights of nightmares.

The first time Dick hears Bruce screaming at night, he throws himself out of bed, terrified that the Manor is under attack. But when he reaches Bruce’s door, he can hear the man crying and sobbing inside. This is wrong. Batman doesn’t have nightmares, Batman doesn’t cry out in his sleep. Dick hovers outside the door, uncertain, unwilling to cross that boundary.

Should he go in? When Dick was a child, he was always welcome after one of his own nightmares. But Dick is no longer a child, and Bruce having nightmares is completely uncharted territory.

Dick should leave. This isn’t his place. But he can’t bring himself to go back to sleep when he knows Bruce is suffering.

Slowly, he rests against the wall to Bruce’s room and slides down to the floor. He leans his head back, closes his eyes, and listens as every cry stabs at his heart. Eventually, it stops, and Dick drifts off until morning.

The next night, Dick dreams that he is sitting with Barbara in a small, quaint coffee shop. Outside the window, every adult is dressed as Batman and every child as Robin, but inside, Dick is just Dick and Barbara is just Barbara. “Don’t look at them,” Barbara says. “It doesn’t matter.”

And then she’s choking, doubled over with the Joker standing behind her, his bloody red lips twisted into a smile. His hand is buried in her back.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Joker grins. “I can just twist, and—oops!”

Barbara falls to the ground. “Dick, help me! Dick, please, I can’t move.”

Outside, all the children drop dead. The coffee shop is on fire.

“Why?” Dick asks the Joker.

The monster laughs and laughs and laughs, and with every second his face loses its pallor and his grin shifts into a grimace, until Dick finds himself staring at Bruce.

“No,” he tries to say, but it doesn’t come out. He stumbles, only to find his back pressed into a wall. “No, wait—”

Bruce plunges his hand into Dick’s chest. Dick can feel it close around his heart. “Jason is dead.”

All the dead Robins outside sit up and twist their heads at unnatural angles. Their Batmen pick them up and hold them, like an army of despair.

“Jason is dead,” Bruce repeats, and Dick knows it’s an accusation, but—

“It’s not my fault,” he insists.

“These are your colors,” Bruce says. Dick looks down. He’s wearing a yellow shirt and green tights, and Bruce’s hand is still clenched around his heart. “Yellow. And green. It’s only missing the red.” And then Bruce pulls.

Dick watches, frozen, as his father holds a bloody, pulsating heart in his hands.

“I would give this to Jason if I could,” Bruce says. “But it’s not enough.” His grimace twists even further. “You’re useless to me.” He tosses the heart to the side. Around them, the flames burn brighter and brighter.

Dick wakes up screaming, with Bruce at his side.

Immediately, he pushes himself up into a seated position, flicking on his lamp and breathing heavily as he tries to force the dream from his mind.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce says. “I had to check. I heard you screaming. I had to check.”

And three years ago, Dick would’ve been angry. Would’ve ranted about invasions of privacy and paranoia. Instead, he slides off the edge of the bed, wraps his arms around Bruce, and lets his father hold him close. “I’m fine,” Dick says, wishing he believed it. “I’m fine. You’re fine. Everyone’s—” He chokes on the word. Jason.

“You’re alive,” Bruce whispers, as Dick buries his face in Bruce’s chest.

---

“Where were you?” Bruce asks as Dick pokes at his mac and cheese. They’ve been eating the most basic meals possible. Too much takeout and the papers will start to speculate. “I needed to consult with you on the Michaelson case.”

Dick sighs. This is why he moved out. Bruce does not need to know where he is at all times.

And yet, Dick gets it. Bruce didn’t keep track of Jason.

“I was looking for a job.”

Bruce’s brows furrow. “A job? Why?”

Dick rolls his eyes. Seriously? “A job. To earn money. You know, that thing that buys food?”

“I have plenty of money,” Bruce says, like he doesn’t see the problem there.

“I’m not mooching off of you,” Dick insists.

“It’s not…mooching. I’m happy to support you.”

Rich people. Seriously. “You don’t get it, B. I’ve got to get a job. Save up. Be independent.”

“You don’t need a job, Dick. Besides, you’re twenty-one. If you were in college, I would still be paying for everything.”

“Bruce.”

“Dick.”

“You don’t get it,” Dick says. He can feel his frustration rising. “I’m not going to be living with you or the Titans forever. You get that, right? This is temporary.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Bruce says, looking down at his plate.

Dick stands up. “Seriously, B?” He moved back into the Manor to help Bruce out of the funk he’s in, not to staypermanently. But Bruce doesn’t seem to have caught onto that.

“You can stay as long as you want.”

Dick is already sacrificing everything he built by staying here. And he’s willing to do it, he is, but Bruce doesn’t seem to realize just what Dick has lost. “I don’t want to stay forever. I have a life. I have friends. I don’t exist solely for your stupid fucking mission!”

Bruce stands up too. “Richard John Grayson!”

“Oh, the full name, huh?” Dick scoffs. “You’re not my father, Bruce. And if you want me to give a fuck about language, then get Alfred back. Oh, wait—you drove him away!”

“At least I know where Alfred is! When you run off, you don’t tell me where. And when Jason ran off, he got himself killed!”

“I’m not Jason!” Dick screams. “And I’m a grown adult, I don’t have to tell you anything! You don’t own me and you don’t own my life!”

“Then you don’t have any right to dictate how I live mine!”

“I have the right to make sure you fucking live!”

They’re both heaving for air, fists clenched as they stand over the dinner table. Suddenly, the guilt hits, filling Dick’s lungs. It all just ran away from him, the whole fight spiraling and spiraling and spiraling. Dick didn’t mean for it to go like this. And instead of storming out, like he normally does after a fight with Bruce, he just slumps over and stands there, head hung.

“I don’t want to fight,” Dick says, eventually.

“I…I don’t want to fight either, Dick.” Bruce looks so very tired.

“I didn’t mean it,” Dick whispers.

“I know,” Bruce says.

“I just want to help.”

Bruce pulls him close. “I know.”

---

“Bet you can’t keep up, B!” Dick shouts, diving off a skyscraper. He shoots his grappling hook before he jumps. Bruce does not.

The two race through the rooftops, Dick adding in unnecessary acrobatics and Bruce replicating them, though not quite as elegantly. In theory, they’re patrolling. In practice, it’s the closest they get to a game.

The last time Bruce and Dick raced across Gotham’s rooftops, Dick was fourteen. The next time Dick thought Batman was looking down and tried to start the chase, Bruce growled at him to focus. Dick didn’t stop trying for another year.

Dick tries to push the dismal thoughts from his head. What matters is the here and now. The thrill of the wind blowing through his hair, the swooping in his stomach as he falls, the laughter that spills past his lips. This is how Batman and Robin used to be.

Did Jason do this with Bruce too?

Dick mistimes his landing and stumbles, forcing himself into a sloppy roll. When he lands on his feet, his shoulder is aching. That’s going to bruise, and bad.

Bruce, in the middle of copying one of Dick’s flips, doesn’t notice. Dick forces a grin onto his face and rushes forwards.

As he somersaults over the gap between the next two buildings, he notices a man threatening a scrawny teenager with a knife in the alley below. “You go on ahead, B!” Dick shouts. “You could use the head start!”

He makes short work of the mugger and ties him up for the police.

“Wait,” the kid calls out as Dick turns to leave. Dick pauses. “Can I…can I report something?”

Dick shifts his body language, trying to make himself appear open. “Sure!” He says cheerily—but not overly cheerily, just enough to be encouraging.

“There’s this tunnel,” the kid explains. “Some of us—I mean, some of my friends—go there to paint. I mean, I don’t. But some guys I know do.” Their shoulders hunch defensively. Dick’s not buying it for a second, but Batman and Nightwing don’t hunt down graffiti artists. “These guys came along one day, wearing these weird masks, and said we all had to get out. So I—I mean, my friends left. But some people were like, ‘screw it,’ and stayed, and no one’s seen them in days.”

That certainly sounds concerning. “What sort of masks?”

“Like, clowns. Hey, do you think it’s the Joker?”

“Maybe,” Dick says. Probably. But the Joker’s still in Arkham right now, so what’s he playing at? “What else can you tell me?”

By the time he’s got all the information the kid has, Dick knows Bruce is far ahead of him. He races along the patrol route, not bothering to do any fancy acrobatics. A few minutes later, Dick hears the sound of grunts from yet another alleyway and sighs, dropping down to join the fray.

Except, it isn’t much of a fray at all. There are two men lying on the ground, unconscious, one of them bleeding, a tiny kid cowering a few feet away against a building, and Batman straddling a third man, pummeling him in the face.

Dick freezes, taking the scene in. One of the unconscious men has half his limbs bent at artificial angles. The other appears to be bleeding from the temple and has a batarang pinned through his hand (batarangs aren’t supposed to be that sharp). And the kid, the kid is shivering, his arms wrapped around his knees as he pushes himself into the corner between the building’s wall and a dumpster. He’s wearing a ragged red hoodie and his face is far too gaunt to be healthy. Homeless, probably.

Another grunt pulls Dick’s gaze toward the third man, who Bruce is taking an unusually long time to subdue. Or—that can’t be right, because he already seems to be unconscious, not even moving as Bruce strikes him again and again. “Batman?” Dick asks hesitantly, stepping forward. Bruce doesn’t respond. He aims another strike at the criminal’s face and Dick hears a distinct crack. “B, I think you got him,” Dick says, his voice shaking ever-so-slightly. Another grunt. Another strike. This is wrong. The man is already unconscious. They’re supposed to tie him up and leave, why is Bruce still attacking him? “B!” Dick orders. “That’s enough!”

But nothing seems to be getting through. Bruce grabs the man’s shirt collar and slams him against the ground. His head bounces off the pavement, and all Dick can think of is that Bruce is going to kill this man, if he’s not already dead. Dick rushes forward and shoves Bruce in the shoulder as hard as he can. Bruce reacts instinctively, throwing a wild fist that Dick easily ducks, but now Batman’s standing up, and he’s not hitting the man anymore, so it’s—it’s okay.

Bruce freezes. “Dick—”

No names in the field. No names in the field. That’s all Dick can think of. Bruce is the stickler for that rule, but even Dick only ever breaks it when on rooftops, far away from the action. But here, in an alleyway in the middle of Gotham, with a witness…

Bruce is compromised. Dick knew it already, but not like this. He pictures Bruce’s fists pummeling the criminal again and again and feels…sick.

“What the hell was that?” Dick accuses.

“I didn’t mean—I didn’t see you. I didn’t know it was you.”

Dick laughs harshly. That’s what Bruce is focusing on? “Forget about me, what about him?”

Bruce tilts his head to look at the criminal lying on the ground. He swallows.

Dick kneels down and checks for a pulse. He finds one, thank god. Faint, but present. “He’s alive,” Dick reports. “But you could have killed him.”

Bruce just stares. Dick takes out the encrypted burner phone all of them carry and dials 911. Bruce watches silently as Dick says that an ambulance is needed. Dick throws a disgusted look at Bruce. Clearly he’s not going to be any help, and there’s still a terrified street kid to deal with. Thankfully, the kid looks too out of it to have heard Dick’s name, but if he’s still there when the ambulance arrives, he’ll get taken by CPP. And Dick knows that kids in Gotham often have a very good reason to avoid social workers.

“Hey,” Dick says softly, kneeling down a few feet away from the kid. The boy just shakes even harder. “I’m Nightwing.” Normally, he tells kids in Gotham that he works with Batman. But with what the kid just saw…Dick doesn’t even know if that’ll help him right now. “I fight the bad guys,” he says instead. The kid shifts, but looks at him with blank, blue eyes. Black hair, blue eyes, red hoodie…around ten to twelve years old…he looks like Jason, in his early days at Wayne Manor. “Can you tell me your name?”

The sound of sirens fills the air and suddenly, like a marionette, the kid jumps to his feet and takes off running. Dick doesn’t follow him. If the kid had the presence of mind to run, he probably has somewhere to go.

“Cave,” Dick says, voice hard. “Now.”

---

In the cave, Dick paces. Motion has always helped him think. But here, it doesn’t seem to be enough. What can Dick possibly say? Bruce was always the one who held him back, until Dick accepted the no-kill rule as part of his identity. But if Dick hadn’t gotten there in time…

A sick feeling churns in his gut. Batman wasn’t stopping. Batman would’ve killed that man.

If Dick wasn’t here, Bruce would be a murderer.

Dick gags and just barely holds down his light dinner. This is wrong. It isn’t supposed to be like this. This isn’t who Bruce is.

But maybe, this is who Bruce is now.

“You almost killed someone,” Dick says quietly, stopping to face Bruce, who stands over by Jason’s display case with his cowl off. Dick hates that damn thing. A GOOD SOLDIER. Like Jason was a soldier who died in a war. Like he made a choice to serve. Like he wasn’t a child in over his head who should have been protected by his family.

“You stopped me in time.”

“What if I wasn’t there?” Dick asks. Dick was trying to help, but…Bruce seemed to be improving. Just an hour ago, they were racing through Gotham. Dick thought he heard Bruce chuckle. How did everything change so fast? Will Dick ever be able to trust that Bruce is improving?

“But you were,” Bruce says, his voice filled with some emotion that Dick is too tired to name.

Dick was there, but he can’t always be, can he? Not all the time. He was willing to save Bruce from himself. He didn’t know he’d have to save Gotham from Bruce.

Dick steps forward and raises a hand to the glass display case. He looks at the costume, so similar to his own old circus leotard. These aren’t the clothes Jason died in. They aren’t burnt and tattered and stained with blood. It seems wrong, to remember Jason like this. With shining glass and a clean costume and a plaque.

But Dick can’t say he knew Jason well enough to decide on the right way to remember him.

“The kid looked like Jason.” Dick says it like a question, even though it isn’t one. “That’s why you were so…” Violent? That’s the understatement of the century. Batman’s always been violent, but he’s also always been kind, and that kindness was nowhere to be found in that alleyway.

“Yes,” Bruce says, and his voice shakes. Dick wants to pull him close and hug him, but he doesn’t think it would be appreciated right now. Dick’s not even sure if he could stomach it. This is Bruce, his mentor, his second father in every way that matters, but…but he just almost beat a man to death. His gauntlets are still bloody. “They were going to…”

“I know,” Dick interrupts before Bruce can continue. He places a hesitant hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “Bruce, Jason wouldn’t…Jason wouldn’t want this.”

Bruce goes stiff and takes a step back, forcing Dick’s hand away. “Don’t talk about what Jason would want,” he says, voice cold.

“He wouldn’t,” Dick says. He knows…he knows that this is a surefire way to start a fight, but he needs to get through to Bruce. He needs the real Bruce back. “Jason believed in Robin, believed in Batman. He would want you to be the man he…the man he believed in.”

Bruce shakes his head. “You have no idea.”

Dick steps forward. “Then tell me.”

“Jason killed Felipe Garzonas.” What? Dick cycles through cases in his head, but he wasn’t particularly involved in Gotham during Jason’s time as Robin. He doesn’t know who that is. “He said the man slipped. I wasn’t sure at the time. I wanted to believe him. But he didn’t even try to make the story convincing.”

Dick closes his eyes. “Jason,” he whispers.

“Garzonas had diplomatic immunity. Much like the Joker did shortly after Jason’s death. He...he was a rapist. He tormented a woman until she hung herself. And Jason went after him alone. I arrived to see Garzonas hit the ground, after falling from the top of a building with a railing.”

“He said he didn’t,” Dick protests weakly. “Jason wouldn’t.”

“Don’t pretend to know what Jason would or wouldn’t do.”

That’s fair, Dick supposes. He still…he still struggles to wrap his head around the idea of Jason killing, Jason who proclaimed Robin to be magic. And Bruce doesn’t know for sure. But whether Jason pushed Garzonas or not, that doesn’t change what Dick saw in that alleyway. “You almost killed someone, Bruce. What would have happened if he hadn’t had a pulse?”

Bruce’s every muscle stills. “What would you have me do?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Bruce turns to face Dick, meeting his eyes. “If I had killed him, what would you say I do next?”

Why is Bruce asking Dick of all people? Batman doesn’t kill. (Neither does Robin.) It’s just how it is. Batman doesn’t. “Batman doesn’t kill,” Dick says. But that’s not an answer, is it? Bruce looks at him, like he’s waiting for more. This isn’t a situation Dick’s ever considered. He’s thought about what would happen if he failed. As Robin, he always figured Bruce would disown him, kick him out permanently and leave him to fend for himself. As Nightwing, he figured Bruce would put him to Arkham. “Batman doesn’t kill,” Dick repeats. “I don’t…what do you want me to say, Bruce?”

“Would you place me in Arkham?” Bruce asks. “I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t stop you.”

“No,” Dick says, before he can even think about it. Immediately, he wants to take it back. Of course he should put Batman in Arkham. If someone kills in Gotham, they’re a criminal, and if they wear a mask, they’re a Rogue. Bruce should berate him, tell him that Batman is no different, that if he kills, it’s Dick’s duty to stop him. But Bruce just watches Dick closely. Not like this is a test…like he genuinely wants to hear Dick’s answer. “I’d. I’d. I don’t know.” Maybe Bruce could throw Dick in Arkham. Probably could. But Dick doesn’t think he could do that to Bruce. “Batman doesn’t kill,” Dick repeats for a third time, clinging to it like a lifeline. He can feel tears welling up in his eyes. He turns around so that Bruce won’t see. “We don’t kill. It’s the first rule you taught me.”

“I know,” Bruce says quietly. “We don’t kill,” he agrees.

“I don’t think you should patrol right now.”

“Gotham needs me,” Bruce protests.

Dick turns around. “One week. I can handle Gotham for one week, and then you’ll be back out in the field. Okay?”

There’s a long silence, before Bruce eventually nods.

“Okay,” Dick says. “Pull yourself together, Grayson,” he mutters under his breath. It doesn’t help.

---

Fifty-six hours later, Dick wakes up from his third nightmare of the night. All he can see is Bruce’s body burnt and disfigured, bones clattering like a skeleton as he cries out again and again, “Why didn’t you save me?”Dick stumbles through the hallway, reaches Bruce’s door and, against his better instincts, opens it.

It doesn’t bring relief, though. All Dick can see are blankets, and that’s not enough. He shuffles over to the bed, wincing as the floorboards creak. And he can see Bruce, but his mind whispers insidiously. What if it’s an illusion? What if he’s not there? What if he’s dead? Tentatively, Dick raises a hand to touch Bruce’s face.

“Dick?” Bruce asks blearily, and Dick jumps back.

“I had to check,” Dick justifies.

“I’m here,” Bruce says. He raises a hand, slightly, letting it slip outside his blankets. Dick grabs the hand and holds it tight, fingers twisting around to feel Bruce’s heartbeat.

“You’re here,” Dick echoes.

---

On day four of Bruce’s forced break, the Joker, Killer Croc, and the Riddler break out of Arkham. Dick reluctantly admits that he needs help and tells Bruce that he’s back to being Batman.

“Are you sure, Dick?” Bruce asks quietly.

“I trust you,” Dick says. He doesn’t know if that’s a lie or not. Either way, it’s impossible to miss the flash of guilt on Bruce’s face. “We’ll stick together. No splitting off.”

Bruce nods. “Thank you, Dick.”

“Nothing to thank me for.”

Dick watches Bruce like a hawk. Although he hits perhaps a bit too hard, it’s nothing like the excessive violence Dick saw in that alleyway. Bruce is more reluctant to get hurt when Dick is watching, and Dick is sure to block the strikes that Bruce doesn’t avoid.

They finish patrol at 5:31 AM, battered and sore and exhausted, but Killer Croc has been returned to Arkham, and they have a lead on the Joker. That tunnel the graffiti kid mentioned may look clear now, but sooner or later, the Joker is liable to show up.

After one too many nightmares, they give up on boundaries. Dick humors Bruce’s first idea, which is to put cameras in their rooms to check on each other at night, but neither of them is satisfied that someone isn’t just looping the feed. When Dick finds himself checking on Bruce at four in the morning, Bruce mutters deliriously, “just stay, Dick.”

So Dick crawls next to him and falls asleep to the sound of Bruce’s heartbeat. He doesn’t have any more nightmares that night.

---

Donna calls. The Titans have been on another off-planet mission. She asks if Dick is coming back soon.

“I don’t know,” Dick says. “Bruce is…Bruce isn’t doing well.”

Dick can practically hear her purse her lips over the phone. Dick and Donna tell each other everything. “You’re living with him again?”

“Yeah,” Dick says. “Yeah, I…I am. Look, it’s really bad, Donna. I had to do something.”

“You don’t owe him anything.”

“I wanted to help him,” Dick says.

“Yeah,” Donna says. She sounds resigned. “Just…be careful, Dick. Please.”

“Always am.”

That’s a lie. They both know it.

---

The Joker returns to the tunnel that his henchmen set up. Along with him goes the Riddler.

Dick knows that with two villains, they’ll probably get split up. So when Bruce says that he’ll take the Joker and Dick will rescue the hostages playing one of the Riddler’s games, Dick holds out an escrima stick to stop him in his tracks.

“What?” Bruce growls.

“You get the hostages, B. I’ll deal with the Joker.”

“I don’t want you facing him alone.”

“Tough luck,” Dick says. Bruce may not be beating street-level thugs to near-death right now, but Dick doesn’t trust him against the Joker. Hell, Dick doesn’t even fully trust himself. “I can take care of myself.”

“Fine,” Bruce agrees reluctantly. Dick can see how difficult it is for the man, allowing Dick to face the Joker, and he’s grateful that Bruce manages to agree.

They split ways. Dick follows the tunnel, disarming booby traps until he finds the Joker perched atop a throne. Dick sighs.

“This ends here,” Dick says. “Whatever fucked-up scheme you concocted now, it’s over. I’d recommend you come quietly.” He bares his teeth. “Wouldn’t want to give me an excuse.”

The Joker doesn’t respond. Dick steps closer, wary of traps. Another step. Another step. Something’s off about the Joker. Something’s really off.

Another step. The Joker’s face has a waxy sheen.

Another step. That’s not just some bad makeup. That’s…

Dick spots the bomb strapped to the wax figure’s back.

“Fuck.”

His first instinct is to run, but a cave-in here could be disastrous. He tries to estimate the distance he travelled, and he guesses he’s right underneath the Narrows right now. And Dick does not trust Gotham tunnel inspectors.

Dick rushes forward. Two minutes on the clock. Only one bomb, as far as he can tell.

He makes quick work of it. A minute in, and the bomb’s disabled. Dick looks around. He must be missing something. A trap’s never just a trap, with the Joker. It’s never this easy.

Fear shoots through Dick. Of course. It’s not a trap for him. It’s a trap for Batman.

Dick takes off in the direction of the Riddler’s game, where he assumes the Joker will also be.

He arrives just in time to see the bullet hit.

Brain matter splatters all over his face, and Dick can’t breathe.

---

“Dick.”

Dick isn’t here. He isn’t. He isn’t here. Not here.

This is a nightmare.

Dick has had this nightmare before. He picks up a gun and shoots the Joker, and it feels good. Bruce picks up a gun and shoots himself. Bruce picks up a gun and shoots Jason. Bruce shoots the Joker. Bruce shoots the Joker. Bruce shoots the Joker.

“Batman doesn’t kill,” Dick whispers, but it’s a lie. It’s a fucking lie. Batman doesn’t kill, but Dick watched him shoot the Joker and he doesn’t even know how it happened. Just that the Joker’s head exploded and Bruce stared at him and then said, quietly, “I’m sorry, Dick,” and then everything went sort of fuzzy and—

His lips feel disconnected from his body. He wants to talk, to scream, to beg. To ask why. Why did Bruce do this? Bruce, who hates guns with his whole soul. Who sees the good in everyone. Who could never kill.

Was Dick just lying to himself this whole time? Pretending like he could help Bruce, like he was what Bruce needed, like he could stand in for the magic of Robin?

Cold water hits Dick’s face. It’s a decontamination shower. Why is he in a decontamination shower?

Blood runs out of his hair, flowing off his suit and swirling around the drain. Oh. That’s why.

The Joker is dead. Dick knows that, because Bruce checked for a pulse, face stony. Bruce killed the Joker. And Dick didn’t stop him.

Because Dick could have jumped in front of that bullet. There was a split-second, where he saw Bruce’s finger tense on the trigger. Where he knew what was going to happen. And he watched. He watched it happen.

The water turns off. Someone presses a towel into Dick’s hands. He just stares at it blankly, before sliding down to sit on the stone floor. He should change out of the Nightwing suit, probably. But it’s so difficult to even twitch one of his fingers. Bruce sits down a few feet away from him.

“You killed him,” Dick says eventually.

“Yes,” Bruce agrees. “I did.”

“Why?”

“He had a detonator. He was going to kill the hostages. And I didn’t know where you were—he might have. He might have killed you too.” Bruce wraps an arm around Dick’s shoulders. Dick feels empty inside. He should—he should feel revolted, shouldn’t he? This is a—this is a killer.

(But this is his father. This is Bruce.)

“You always find another way,” Dick says.

“I didn’t want to.” Bruce inhales deeply. “I’m sorry, Dick. I’m sorry that this happened. But I’m not sorry for what I did.”

Dick closes his eyes. He can smell blood, thick and metallic. Can practically taste it. But he also smells Bruce, and the unique scent of the Batcave, and—

How did it end up like this? Dick was supposed to help.

“I’m sorry,” he ends up whispering. “I failed you, Bruce. I’m so sorry.”

Bruce pulls him close. Dick can feel himself start to cry. He doesn’t deserve to cry. He’s just as responsible for this as Bruce. “You didn’t fail me,” Bruce promises.

“I did,” Dick mumbles. “I did, I failed you. I failed you.”

“Don’t say that,” Bruce tries to order, but Dick’s never been good at following orders. “You did not.”

Dick swallows. “You were always there to catch me and I…I let you fall.”

A hand runs through his hair. Dick lets himself rest against Bruce. They’re murderers, the both of them. Dick doesn’t want to pull away and find out what comes next. “Dick, look at me. Please.” Reluctantly, Dick opens his eyes to look up. “This is not your fault. This was my decision alone, and you couldn’t have…you couldn’t have stopped me.”

But Bruce doesn’t get it. It was his decision, but it was a decision Dick let him make. Dick knew Bruce shouldn’t be out in the field. He knew he shouldn’t split from Bruce when hunting down the Joker. He knew that Batman was violent and dangerous and unpredictable, but he couldn’t see past Bruce.

Dick still can’t see past Bruce. Because he should be fighting him and throwing him in containment, but he’s not, he’s not. He’s just letting Bruce hold him, comfort him, lie to him.

Suddenly, a horrible thought strikes Dick. It takes root in his stomach, and grows and grows and grows until he can’t ignore it. It makes too much sense. “This isn’t the first time,” Dick whispers, “is it?”

Bruce lowers his head. “No, Dick, it isn’t.”

Dick pushes himself away from Bruce and stands up. Bruce stays seated. “When?” He demands.

“Before you got here. I stopped caring. I only…I only realized he was dead after I left the scene. I went back, and there wasn’t any pulse. I didn’t mean to,” Bruce says, like that matters.

Dick doesn’t know what to say to that. “That’s why Alfred left, isn’t it?” Bruce nods. Dick tries to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I should take you to Arkham.”

“Okay,” Bruce says, resignation filling his voice.

“I need to stop you,” Dick says. “I—you’ve gone too far. You’ve broken all your own rules. I need to.”

Bruce just closes his eyes.

“Say something!” Dick shouts.

Bruce looks straight up at Dick. “I accept your judgement.”

“You’re supposed to fight me,” Dick screams. “You’re supposed to say you’re right, you’re supposed to tell me I’m wrong, you’re supposed to put me in a cell until I agree, you’re not supposed to just come quietly!”

“I’m not going to fight you.” Bruce swallows. “You’ve always been better than me, Dick.”

Dick laughs. “That’s why you let me come to the Manor, isn’t it? It’s not because you wanted me back. It’s because you wanted me to judge you! I was a fool for thinking I was welcome, wasn’t I?”

“No,” Bruce says. It’s finally something other than the quiet acceptance of before. Arguing feels right. “No, Dick. I…I wanted you to stay. It was selfish. I let you stay against my better judgement. I didn’t want you involved at all, to know about this. I wanted to spare you this burden. And I’m sorry that I couldn’t.”

Dick kneels down next to Bruce. “I don’t think I can put you in Arkham.” It’s true, and Dick hates himself for it.

“That’s okay, Dick,” Bruce says. “Should I turn myself in?”

Dick closes his eyes. “Don’t put this on me, Bruce. Don’t—don’t do that. Don’t make this my responsibility.”

“There’s always room for you in the League,” Bruce says softly. “You have Clark and Diana’s respect. And, of course, there’s Titans. If you can’t stay, if you can’t have any part in this, I understand.”

Dick shakes his head and settles so he’s leaning against the wall only inches away from Bruce. Bruce doesn’t reach out to him again. “I already have a part in this.”

“You don’t, Dick. I swear you don’t.”

“I should have been there,” Dick whispers. “I left you. I left you to grieve alone after Jason’s death. I knew I should’ve pushed. I knew I shouldn’t have left. I—”

“No,” Bruce says harshly. “No. I made you leave. You made the right decision. No one would blame you for leaving after that. The fact that—the fact that you came back at all is a miracle.”

And Dick can’t help himself. He reaches for Bruce’s wrist and twists his fingers around to feel the pulse. And it’s there, it’s there, strong. Alive.

“I understand, Dick, if you can’t follow me down this road. I understand if you need to stop me.”

“I can’t stop you,” Dick admits.

“That’s okay, Chum.”

Dick leans his head against Bruce’s shoulder. “I don’t want to leave.”

“Okay.”

“I know I should,” Dick says. Bruce doesn’t deny it. “I want to stay. I want you to live.”

“You will always be welcome here. Even if you decide you can’t be here anymore.”

“What would Jason think of us now?” Dick asks.

“I don’t know,” Bruce whispers.

Did Jason push Garzonas? Or did the rapist slip? Would Jason have approved of Bruce killing the Joker? Or would he see it as a betrayal?

Neither of them can ask him. Neither of them can turn back time, and neither of them can speak to the dead.

“What happens next?” Dick asks.

Bruce’s hand cards through Dick’s hair once more, slow and soothing. “We go on.”

[theycallme-ook-v2]

GOING HOME TO SEE MY KITTY! MY LITTLE KITTY! MY PRECIOUS!! MY BELOVED!! MY PRETYY KITTY!!! GONNA SER HER IN A FEW HOURS!! EEEEE. Sorry if I miss spell things ik in a moving car :]

Anywa here's some more Batman Beyond headcanons :)

Terry alwasy shows up to league meeting extremely early or extremely late. There is no in-between.

Terry actually prefer more like. Lighter shades of colors! Like how the batsuit is like. Black and intense red they'd prefer if the red was a more. Lighter shade.

They have a sort of friendly rivalry with Warhawk. The sort of like. In battle I got ur back but. Any other time I can and will fight you behind a denys.

Barta and Terry being little shits solidarity!! They're like cousins ig hahsksk

Max and Terry are chaotic. They tease and snark at each other bit never in a mean way.

I personally think Max is aromantic!! Shes just. Not interested. I like to think that neogotham is very accepting of lgbtq+ stuff in the future, because honestly canon is dead to me 💗

I think Max decided to stay more or less tech support and stuff for Terry after being on a mission in his place. like!!!! Like ok Terry is Bruce's "assistant " right? And the media definitely would pick up on it because . Terry is generally with Bruce if Bruce goes out in public. So maybe some dumbass thugs are like. Ok kidnap the assistant and hold him ransom for a lot of money!! Now u bring in Max as Batman !! Max beats the shit out of everyone, saves Terry, and in the end figure s out that, honestly this part just isn't for her. She won't mid stepping in if needed but she'd prefer to just stay on the sidelines anf help in other ways!!! Also u know this queen has total access to the batcomputer because Bruce cannot keep her out!!

Ok that last one was kinda long so here some short ones!!

Dana and Terry try to study together at least once a week, and pkay rock paper scissors to determine which person gets to decide where they study

In school Dana is more likely to beat u up than Terry is lmao

Max , Dana, qnd Chelsea have girls night out every other week

Max' cat is named Empress.

Selina Kyle can and will show up at the manor randomly and talk shit about Bruce with Terry (listen i need this. Selina is a great character and I love her . Also Terry literally stole the batsuit they would get along great with Selina)

Ok that's it for now!!!! ILY SM MWAH MWAH I KNOW I HAVENT TALKED MUCH RECENTLY BUT ILY UR SO COOL AND AMAZING NEVER FORGET THAT!!💞💞💞💞💞

BRO yes to all of this!! I share so many of these hcs istg ur reading my mind or something;)

By virtue of Ter and Rex both being JL founder kids, I think of them as chaotic cousins. Rex tries to be responsible, Ter tries to annoy him, and Barda is the cool aunt who is no longer trusted by Clark to watch over them :))

And as for all ur other hcs plz know that i love them even though I don't comment on them❤❤❤ esp the Max ones got me😍

[danny-chase]

Dick Grayson Week Day 4

Prompt: Bruce hits Dick and doesn’t get away with it

Summary/Notes:

A Spyral fixit where the family finds out about Nightwing 30. Perspectives are from Tim and Jason, but Steph, Cass, and Damian make an appearance. Quotes taken from Forever Evil 7 and 8, and Nightwing 30. Tw for swearing, angst and domestic/child abuse (because canon is terrible and I can’t leave it the way it is).

Edit: I have an AO3 account now yay! Read here

“I’ll be right back.” Tim chirped as he left to pull some files out of his room. He could feel his friends’ gazes lingering on him as he left. He had to suppress an eye roll. He was fine. Your pseudo-dad/adopted-father-before-you-emancipated-yourself loses his memory and suddenly everyone thinks there’s something wrong with you. Figures. Bruce was happier this way. And maybe, one day, he’d be able to get to know him again. Maybe not as sorta-father and son. But Bruce 2.0 liked volunteering with kids, running charity events. Maybe they could be business partners, or coworkers. It wasn’t like last time. But that didn’t mean Cassie, Bart and Kon weren’t worried. No matter how many times he tried to explain, they wouldn’t listen. It was better this way. Bruce was happier without them. Without him. It stung at first sure, but he was over it. He could handle it. Even if the knot in his stomach told him otherwise.

His fingers brushed the lines on the hallway as he strode through Titan’s Tower. The halls seemed so much smaller than they used to be. Logically, he knew they were the same size. But they weren’t the same walls as when he’d first visited. And those hadn’t even been the first wall either. “We’ve had to rebuild this place like at least a million times.” Dick had told him. The knot tightened. Don’t think about it, he reprimanded himself. He’d been having a nice afternoon. It was relaxing, staying with his friends. But he couldn’t walk through the halls without feeling like a trespasser. This was Dick’s team. This was his home away from home. Who was he kidding? He was no Dick Grayson. Dick’s friends used to look to him for guidance, for advice, for help with problems, personal and business related. Tim used to look to him for guidance, advice and help. Stop thinking about him, he tried again. Forget the Crime Syndicate. Forget the funeral. Don’t stress, repress. He paused for a moment, stared aimlessly out the window, took a few deep breaths, cleared his mind and continued on his way.

Climbing the stairs, he decided it was better to use his mental faculties to go through the case he was working on. Jason had called two days ago asking about some of his old informants in Gotham, Penguin was apparently moving back onto the scene and reorganizing the structure of some of the newer gangs. Cleaning house. Informants were switching names, following their own protocols. Bruce had written some contingency in a classified file somewhere. The issue was where. The damn batcomputer had like a billion files on it. And Barbara knew the system, but was busy coordinating for the JLA and had put them on “Do not Disturb” mode for the foreseeable future. He could write a program to search for it. Stupid Bruce and his stupid files that he’d kept secret from them. “It was on a need to know basis.” He could almost here the defensiveness in Bruce’s voice if he tried hard enough. He nearly face planted as he miscalculated the number of stairs. Maybe they should just go back to their old Young Justice base. Or wait till the building inevitably explodes again and just make it better. That would be fun. Designing a Teen Titans base with slides and escalators. Bart would be thrilled. Bart could probably build it in 5 minutes. Dick wouldn’t approve, his brain felt the need to remind him. Tim nearly huffed. Well Dick is de-.

He abruptly lost his train of thought. There was noise coming from his room. Someone was sniffing, was someone crying in his room? Who was even in his room? Everyone was downstairs. Cissie and Steph were visiting in the lounge, Greta left a few days ago, the new kids were in the gym getting a feel for the equipment. The hell? His heart pounded a bit louder as he silently slunk towards his rooms. If Dick decided to haunt him from beyond the grave this was not cool. The lights flickered. Tim nearly screamed. He could feel cold sweat gathering in his palms, his heart racing, thoughts pounding in his skull. It’s just one of Bart’s pranks, no one can get in without access. He slid next to his door and pulled up the camera feed on his glove’s embedded computer. They weren’t in lockdown, but it couldn’t hurt to check. Few clicks here, few taps there and…Damian? Tim burst through the door, half relieved and fully confused.

“What are you doing here?” Tim half yelled, Damian startling on the bed as he burst into his room. Tim flicked the lights on as the gremlin crossed his arms in response. Tim shut the soundproof door, no need to bother Kon with this.

“I was given access to the tower as well.” He stated monotonously. Tim frowned; something was off. Damian didn’t just show up in his room. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen the kid in weeks. Not since Bruce went all amnesiac on them. Where was he even staying. Damian shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. There were dark circles under his eyes, he was paler than usual, but flushed, his eyes bright. Had he been crying in here? “Quit gawking at me, Drake.” He spat, jolting Tim back into reality.

He almost opened his mouth to throw some insult back. Almost. He saw the kid’s lip tremble just so slightly, and he bit his tongue. The kid’s hands were shaking. “What’s up?” He replied cautiously. Keeping the demon brat in line wasn’t in his job description. But the kid had had a rough couple months. Dying, coming back to Dick being dead, Bruce losing his memory. He could help with whatever this was and-

“Grayson is alive.”

-send the kid back to Alfred, he knew the kid better than he did. He had his pets at the manor to keep him company, maybe he’d see if Jon would be willing to have a sleepover or something. Spring break was coming up soon, maybe he could take a trip out to Kansas-

“Drake!” Damian was waving a hand in front of his face. Tim blinked a few times. He hadn’t said…had he? That wasn’t right Dick was-

“Richard is alive, I can prove it.” There was desperation in the kid’s voice, water in his eyes. The trash can was filled with tissues, it had been empty when he left. His shirt was on inside out. Tim inhaled sharply. Fuck. Tim had been there. He’d done that. Denied reality. Gone on a wild fairy tale goose chase. Chased insane dreams. Sure, it had worked. But this was different. They had a body. We had a body then, his mind helpfully supplied. There was no real evidence. It had worked hadn’t it? Denying Bruce’s death out of reality? But Dick couldn’t be alive. Bruce had seen him die. Clark saw Bruce die, his brain again helpfully supplied. Tim studied Damian’s face carefully. He looked two steps away from a mental breakdown. Was that how I looked? He wasn’t exactly looking in any mirrors at the time. Dick had try to talk him back down, that was the wrong move. He’d doubled down. But Damian wasn’t him and Tim had no idea what to do. Damian stared at him, studying his face carefully. Tim could feel his palms sweating again, when had he started clenching his fists? His brain was ticking through options, tell Damian he believed him – high chance of heartbreak, low chance of kid running off and doing something stupid on his own. Try and talk him down – still some heartbreak, but can mitigate, medium to high chance of him running off. Call Alfred – should he really do that though? The kid came to him. Alfred’s busy dealing with amnesiac Bruce. Call someone else? Why did the kid come to him in the first place? Damian hated him, he wouldn’t come to him unless he was really sure, or really desperate. Does he think I can replicate what happened with Bruce? Time seemed to move like molasses. Tim swallowed. Now or never.

“I believe you.” He replied. Damian’s eyebrows furrowed, but his shoulders fell ever so slightly, and he rocked back on his heels, uncrossing his arms and leaning into a less defensive stance. Mixed results. He prayed he sounded convincing enough. If he was going this route, he had to go all the way. It didn’t matter that he’d seen the body. It didn’t matter that Bruce saw. He needed to be on Damian’s side with this one. Just like he’d needed somebody on his side back then. Even if it was a crazy side. Even if it was a leave everyone behind and run around on a whim side. Even if it doesn’t work out, at least the kid would have someone to catch him at the end. Why did it have to be the brat though?

“You do not. But you will.” Damian said solemnly, a bit of an edge to his voice. He pulled a laptop out of a bag on the floor and hopped up on the foot of Tim’s bed. Tim quietly settled next to him, careful to not touch him. He was careful. The kid didn’t appear to be looking for a fight, but you never know. Tim glanced at the laptop screen.

“DAMIAN NO WHAT THE-” He screamed. Damian nearly leapt of the bed. His face turned red.

“-tt- Grow up Drake, this is for research purposes only, that is not-” He started mumbling.

“You’re on DICK GRAYSON THIRST POST WEBSITES for RESEARCH!” Tim half screamed, attempting to lower his voice. Damian flushed harder.

“SHUT UP DRAKE!” He countered. Tim took deep breaths. Dear god, he needed to bleach his eyes after this. He did not need to know these threads existed. Fucking reddit. Humanity has gone too far. There were 20k followers. He peeked over again, the latest posts were from this morning. His mouth was dry. These people were lusting over his dead brother. It was sick, it was fucking disgusting it was-

“Wait what’s that picture?” Tim asked.

“-tt- If you would allow me to explain instead of losing your head, I can show you.” Damian grumbled. He clicked on the picture to enlarge it. “I’ve run the calculations, biometrically, the body shape is a 99.97% match.” Tim let out a low whistle. It wasn’t much to go on. You couldn’t see the figure’s face, he was turned away from the camera. Whoever took it was definitely aiming for a certain portion of the man’s body.

“Have you talked to the poster?” Tim inquired. Damian nodded.

“This subreddit is dedicated to…” Damian made a revolted looking face, “capturing casual images of Grayson in unsavory positions.” He nearly squirmed as he finished the sentence. “I was attempting to research the details of Grayson’s perceived passing and came across this website.” That was a different kind of trauma in Tim’s opinion. “The image caught my eye. He has fans in Ireland, that is where it was taken. These fans are apparently experts at picking him out.” Damian scrolled through some earlier posts to prove his point. “It is odd.” He added pointedly. Tim’s mind was racing. It was hardly evidence. It could have been anyone. But he was right. The perverts were good. They even had a few of Dick in disguise doing undercover work, none of his face of course. But Dick couldn’t be in Ireland. Tim went to the funeral. Bruce went to the funeral. Bruce saw Dick die. Bruce wouldn’t lie about something like that. He never told you about the Joker. His mind supplied. No. Bruce wouldn’t. Bruce couldn’t. He wouldn’t put them through that grief. Not after Damian. Not after all the lies. He promised he wouldn’t lie to them like that. The picture couldn’t be real. But Damian kept scrolling. There were more. In multiple countries. It couldn’t be possible. There was no way. People joked his brother’s butt was iconic but this was ridiculous.

“Drake?” Damian sounded so cautious. Tim was confused. The pictures all looked so real. So accurate. Could they be photoshopped? That could explain it.

“Did you get any of the original files?” He asked much too hastily to appear calm. A smile flicked on Damian’s face for a millisecond.

“You believe me.” Damian stated, half disbelievingly. Tim bit his lip. He didn’t want to. He couldn’t. If he did, then he didn’t believe Bruce. Damian cleared his throat. “I have already examined a few of the original photographs. Their phones were laughably easy to hack.” He looked smug for a mentally unhinged eleven-year-old. “They do not appear to be tampered with.” Tim could feel his heart thudding in his chest. Dick couldn’t be alive. It wasn’t possible. He saw the body. Bruce was in the cave for a week going over it. Not allowing anyone in. No… Fuck…

“What did you do?” He muttered under his breath. Damian looked at him inquisitively, a determination burning in his eyes. Tim hadn’t seen any of the proof himself. And he believed Bruce unquestioningly. That was the opposite of what the man had taught him. But there was still something off. He looked searchingly at Damian. “Dick wouldn’t do that to us.” He couldn’t. Dick would never do something like that. He would tell them. He wasn’t like Bruce, he was reliable. Dick didn’t keep secrets like that. He wouldn’t fake his own death and leave them to fend for themselves. Not after Damian died. After everything they’d lost, after everything he’d lost. Dick wouldn’t do that to him. Damian’s eyes flickered toward the ground, and he frowned.

“Maybe he can’t tell us.” Is all he had to offer. It seemed like a sore spot. Tim didn’t push it. It was probably driving the kid insane. Dick, galivanting across the world, not checking in, not coming back to tell them he was okay? The odds were astronomically low. Dick was a constant. He was their brother. He was a Robin. Robins don’t do that to each other. Steph did, his brain helpfully supplied. But that wasn’t Steph’s fault. Tim dug his nails into his palms. He needed to know. He needed proof. He needed to see the footage, go over the evidence. He didn’t doubt Dick, but his mind was itching. He wouldn’t be able to sleep unless he knew for sure. Hell, Damian probably couldn’t either.

“Look, here’s the plan.” Tim said, his mind racing. Damian stared at him intently. Wow the kid really was desperate if he was willing to listen to him. “I’ll tell Kon I’m taking you home, that you need some help on a case, then will slip out. Maybe, maybe someone close to the family is compromised.” He said, a bit unsure. That could explain the lie. If there was one. Please let there be one. Damian nodded, stuffing his laptop back into his backpack. Tim crossed the room and grabbed the door handle.

A barely audible “Thanks.” reached his ears as he flipped off the lights.

  Jason groaned as he checked his messages. He really didn’t want to go through the batcomputer files. It would be faster if Tim did it, plus he had a lower chance of accidentally messing something up. Not that the file system wasn’t already a disaster. Touch the wrong button and you’re locked in the cave till Alfred realizes something’s wrong.

Tim had stopped responding to his messages two days ago, and well, he couldn’t wait any longer. And so, he found himself zipping through the tunnel systems that led into the cave. It was better to avoid the manner if possible. Happy Bruce wasn’t high on the list of people he wanted to see. That dude was fucking weird. It made him feel weird. It did feel good to cross amnesia off his yearly family bingo though. Now he just needed someone to trip during an interview and he’d break Cass’s winning streak. At the rate they were checking things off, maybe he should start a second batch and make it biannual. That or change the prompts. They were getting predictable.

He rolled to a stop inside the cave, and nearly rolled his eyes seeing the mess of skid marks on the floor. Seriously, tires are expensive, why his siblings couldn’t park like normal human beings was beyond him.

Someone was clacking away on the upper platform. Oh, thank God Tim was probably here, figuring it out before he could mess everything up. Cass poked her head over the railing, Jason cocked an eyebrow at her as he removed his helmet. She grinned and jumped over it, catching the fireman’s pole and sliding down. Someone was going to break an ankle doing that, could he add that to the bingo cards? Stupid non-work related injury was already on there, maybe upgrading it to stupid broken bone would suffice. Dick broke his nose outside Denny’s at 3am last year during a post mission party. Hands down one of the best nights of Jason’s life. Too bad his family members decided to die at least once a year.

“I’m about to win bingo.” Cass whispered as she brushed past his shoulder. That jolted Jason out of his bittersweet thoughts.

“Bullshit.” He growled back, bingo was his this year. She smugly wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Sorry brother.” She said sweetly, leaning her head into his shoulder. She let out a long sigh. And then Jason finally remembered that it most the squares weren’t exactly fun.

“Wait, the fuck’s going on?” Fuck, he really didn’t want to deal with this right now. Nobody could have died Dick checked that off, amnesia was gone, Gotham destroyed was gone, natural disaster was checked, Joker breaks out and does dramatic shit was gone too. But that wasn’t a good sigh, that was a ‘I’m so tired of this family sigh’, which could narrow it down a bit. Cass squeezed his shoulder.

“Family secrets.” She admitted, giving him a melancholy look. Jason groaned. This family was the fucking worst. Bruce wasn’t even really part of it right now, who the hell was keeping secrets? Damian. Had to be Damian. Little monster was just like his dad. Fuck. Dick taught the kid better than that. What kind of mess was he in?

Cass took him by the wrist and started dragging him towards the stairs. He resisted briefly as they got to the base. He needed to know. “Who’s is it?” He asked, planting his feet on the ground.

Cass bit her lip, looking extremely uncomfortable. Jason pulled back his arms and crossed them, keeping his expression as neutral as he could, but she could probably read his mood anyways.

“HA. HAHAHA HA. FUCK YOU BRUCE! TAKE THAT SHIT-COMPUTER!”

Jason nearly jumped out of his skin at Tim’s screeching from upstairs, Cass was running up the stairs, not waiting to see if he was coming. Jason sighed. It was going to be on of those days. He took a deep breath and headed up behind her.

Tim was doing a victory dance in front of the computer. Damian was crawling out from under the computer, a shit eating grin on his face. They both looked (and smelled) a mess. Definitely neither had showered in a few days, probably hadn’t slept either.

“Todd, you are just in time to witness our victory over father.” Damian greeted, formal as ever. The brat didn’t even through an insult in there. Must be in a good mood. Well that at least explained who was keeping secrets. Stupid Bruce, keeping secrets even while an amnesiac. Screw him.

“Shall we?” Tim asked, offering a hand to Damian, which shockingly the kid took. The fuck did he miss?!?

“Uh, what the fuck?” He managed to get out. There was cowl footage pulled up on the screen. Cass was pulling chairs over from the table. He tiredly took the seat she offered him.

“Waaaaiiiiiit I have popcorn!” Steph called, pounding down the stairs.

“Steph no!” Tim moaned. “This isn’t a joke!”

“What’s family drama without popcorn?” Steph sung back. Damian huffed. Cass snickered. Jason had to smirk to himself. Dark humor was the best coping mechanism in this family. “Besides you haven’t told us what this is!” She accused. Well at least Jason wasn’t the only one who didn’t know. Tim shifted guilty at the computer, his eyes darting from Damian and then back to the group. Damian responded by huffing and crossing his arms.

“Drake did not ‘want to get your hopes up’.” He began, mimicking Tim’s voice perfectly, “-tt-His concern is unfounded, my research has been impeccable, Gr-” Tim shoved a hand over Damian’s mouth. Damian looked downright murderous.

“Look we want to watch the footage beforehand it might be-” Tim squawked as Cass lunged off the table, hopped over his shoulders and hit play on the batcomputer. “Cass wait!” He got out as the video began to play. Steph grabbed Tim from behind and dragged him into a seat.

The screen showed footage from a first-person perspective, they were walking through a doorway into a large room.

“I’m tired of secrets.” Muttered Cass as she slipped in a chair next to Steph. Damian staid standing, glaring intensely at the screen, looking strangely anguished.

“Hey, kid you can…” The invitation died in his throat. The camera moved forward into the room, revealing a beaten Dick Grayson in the center, hooked to countless machines, suspended in a metal cocoon, only his face and chest peeking out.

“Oh my God.” Came a familiar voice from the screen. A growl reverberated in the cave.

“Well Batman…” Luthor materialized on the right, “…You’ve found Nightwing.” He said, stalking forward.

Something clattered on the floor. The camera was rushing forward. Voices from the cave mixed with voices on the screen.

“Why would you want to watch this!?” shrieked Steph.

“Dick? Everything’s going to be all right. I’m here.” Bruce’s gruff voice sounded oddly strained.

“Shut up Brown!” Came Damian in a high-pitched voice.

“He never showed us the evidence.” Tim’s voice squeaked. “We have to watch till the end?”

“I’m sorry I shut you out. All of you. I didn’t want you getting hurt…I’m going to get you out of this.” Came Bruce’s shaking voice. Jason could feel a lump growing in his throat. He didn’t want to see this.

“Fast-forward?” Cass suggested, her voice equally shaken. Jason could barely see the others in the cave, his eyes were glued to the screen.

“No…You need to…leave.” Came Dick’s horse whisper of a voice. “You need to go…”

Damian made an inhuman noise, which allowed Jason to tear his eyes off the screen.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Muttered Tim. “We can’t fast-forward we need to know what happened.” He forced a sense of determination into his voice. “This is why I didn’t-”

THOOM. The sound rumbled through the cave. Jason jumped out of his seat. The camera whipped around revealing the exit sealed off, with Luthor, Selina, and Bizzarro trapped inside.

“-you guys can still leave.” Tim said shakily.

BA-DEEP. Blared through the speakers. BA-DEEP.

“What is that?” Came Selina’s voice, her usual smooth and silky persona dropped. BA-DEEP.

“It’s a countdown. This isn’t just a fancy pair of handcuffs, Catwoman. It’s a bomb.” Came Lex’s gruff voice. The camera turned again showing a timer counting down from 5 minutes. Jason’s stomach painfully twisted at the reminder of another countdown in another sealed building.

“We’re staying.” He managed to get out. He might have heard noises of affirmation.

WHAM. “The door. The walls. Why can’t we break through them?” Came Luthor’s voice.

“This cell was designed to hold Doomsday, Luthor.” Came Bruce’s voice again. The camera showed him messing with the panel. BA-DEEP.

“Is the countdown monitoring his heart?” Selina asked from seemingly far away.

“Yes.” Boomed Bruce’s voice. BA-DEEP.

“Why?” Replied Selina.

“The detonator is hooked into it.” Bruce responded. Jason’s heart sunk. “He died in a death trap. There was no way out.” Bruce had told him before the funeral. BA-DEEP.

“Batman…The bomb…” Dick whispered. BA-DEEP. Jason spared another glance at Damian. There were tears beginning to form in his eyes, but he stared, glued to the screen all the same. “…It only disams…If my heart stops.” Jason could feel his chest tightening painfully. “I die…or we all die.” BA-DEEP.

“Maybe Bruce had a reason for not showing this to us.” Steph said shakily. Jason glanced over. She looked green. Her sleave and eyes were both wet. The sounds of the heart monitor echoed in the cave.

BA-DEEP. “Please…Listen to me…” Dick’s horse voice started again. Tim was muttering frantically to himself. “You still have time to get yourself out of here.” The camera was so close. Jason could see every cut on his brother’s face, could see the sweat on his brow, the blood trickling down from his nose.

BA-DEEP. “I am not leaving you, Dick. I am not abandoning you.” Bruce sounded much more confident that Jason felt. Too bad Bruce didn’t sound confident.

“You aren’t Bruce. And you never have.” Dick replied. Jason’s vision was blurring. All he wanted was some stupid computer files. He didn’t come to the cave to watch this.

BA-DEEP. “The only way we’re getting out of here is together…No…The wires…” Jason dug his fingernails into his palms. “…Every time I disconnect a relay, it fixes itself.” Jason bit his lip.

BA-DEEP. At some point those in the caves had gone silent. “Then there’s only one way to disarm this bomb, Batman.” Came Luthor’s voice. The video jolted violently and Bruce’s cry reverberated through the cave. Chaos erupted on the screen. A cacophony associated with their customary brand of violence echoed through the speakers, obscuring some of the voices.

BA-DEEP. “I’m saving our lives.” Jason made out. The screen was black. Jason glanced around the room. Everyone was tense. Damian was crying. Tim looked horrified. Cass was perfectly still, her expression blank. Steph looked one step away from throwing up in the empty popcorn bowl that lie on the ground at her feet.

BA-DEEP. The camera was moving again. “LUTHOR.” Boomed Bruce’s voice again. Jason caught a glimpse of the man pressing a hand over Dick’s face. “LUTHOR, YOU HURT HIM AND I WILL KILL YOU.” Cass let out the faintest gasp. Bruce wasn’t lying. How the hell was Luthor still alive? The heart monitor was stuttering. BA-DEEEEEP

“Nonononononononononono.” Came Tim’s voice. “It wasn’t supposed to-”

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

“DICK.” Screamed Bruce. The camera rushed forward.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

“NO!” Yelled Bruce and Tim at the same time. Damian had sunk to the floor.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

A fist kept pounding Luthor in the face relentlessly. “Batman, wait-” Luthor pleaded. This was not how Jason had wanted Bruce to break his code.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

“YOU MURDERER!” Screeched Bruce, righteous fury echoing in his voice. The heart monitor cut off. A hand reached down to cut off Luthor’s windpipe.

“I have this…” Came Luthor’s strangled voice. He looked terrified. “Under control…Grayson…” The hand squeezed harder. “-kk-!” The man chocked. Bruce lessened up slightly. “It’s not too late, you idiot.” Spat Luthor. Bruce was apparently passed the point of listening.

“YOU MURDERED NIGHTWING.” He growled, tightening his grip once more. Luthor was going bug eyed. The man was going to actually die if Bruce pushed it much harded.

“Batman-” Came Selina’s voice.

“Luthor killed Dick, Selina.” Bruce said, his voice strangled.

“You said this lightning rod was from the future! Maybe we can use it to save him or something? I don’t know-!” She cried desperately.

A flash of light and crackle of electricity resounded through the cave. The screen went black for a moment.

Jason could hear metal clinking on the floor.

“Why are we still watching this?” Jason asked hoarsely. Tim looked at him palely.

“I need to know what happened next.” He whispered.

“If I hadn’t stopped Grayson’s heart, this ‘Murder Machine’ would have detonated and we all would have died. I had to make a choice, Batman. I made him flatline…after I forced him to swallow a cardioplegia pill.” The camera slowly tilted back up to focus on Luthor.

“A what?” Asked Steph and Selina at the same time.

“A drug that paralyzes the cardiac muscles surrounding the heart.” Replied Tim and Bruce in sync.

“Then…” Trailed off Damian. The boy looked up hopefully at the screen.

“And if this boy’s heart doesn’t get a shot of adrenaline right this very second he’s going to stay dead.” Luthor finished.

*kaff*

That small cough was the best sound Jason had heard in his entire life.

“YES!” Shouted Tim.

Damian swallowed. “As I expected.” He said shakily. No one called him out on it.

“Dick?” Came Bruce’s voice from the screen.

“Batman?” Dick’s wobbly voice whispered.

Cass tackled Steph into a bear hug, and Steph laughed widely as they clattered to the floor. Jason just sighed deeply and let his head drop into his hands in relief.

“Drake-” gasped Damian, “-get off.”

“You were right! Damian was right! Dick’s alive. HAHA Dick’s ALIVE!” Jason glanced up to see Tim squeezing the crap out of Damian who was going slightly blue in the face. There were words coming from the speakers still but they fell to the wayside in the celebration. Jason walked over and turned the volume down.

“I’m going to kill them.” Jason muttered under his breath. But he’d save that for later, for now, he just paced back to his chair and sunk into it. The cave was quiet for a few minutes, Dick and Bruce continued on whatever the fuck adventure they were on was. The rest of the video was a blur. By the end, Jason’s racing heart had settled, and the kids had stopped clinging to each other.

“But wait.” Said Steph as the video ended. “If Dick’s alive, where is he? How did you even know to look?”

Jason turned to see Tim babbling. “Well I have a few theories, we recovered more footage as well, you know? Like Damian found pictures of him all across the world so like, we don’t know for certain where he is, but like I don’t know for sure what happened, but maybe someone was compromised so like, he had to stay hidden or like…” Tim continued babbling as the next video began to play. It was once again footage from the cowl. “Bruce shut off all the camera’s in the cave for the next week, I thought he was sulking but like we were able to find some cowl footage that he deleted, and like hopefully from that we can figure out what happened and how to track him down-”

“Turn up the volume.” Demanded Cass from her seat. She was looking at the screen with an odd expression. Damian moved without hesitation. Jason’s eyes followed up to the screen. Dick was glaring into the camera his fists raised and wrapped.

“So, one more time Dick. But now there’s only one rule…You have to win.” Came Bruce’s gruff voice. The pair was in the cave. Dick lunged towards the camera. “You let the crime syndicate capture you. Let them torture you. You let them give your secrets to the world.” Bruce accused.

“Bruce man, what the fuck!” Steph yelled, masking Dick’s response.

Bruce continued “You let them turn you into a bomb. You let them kill you. Before Luthor rescued you, you let everyone WATCH YOU DIE.” He boomed.

“YOU GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!” Jason bellowed, knocking over his chair as he stood. He walked away from the screen. Only fucking Bruce. Only fucking Bruce would blame someone for their death. Jason knew that all too well. He walked away from the screen, giving himself distance to clear his head.”

“I trained you to LIVE, and I watched you DIE!” CRACK. Jason flipped around to see Bruce elbow Dick in the face, drawing blood. Bruce’s words cut like a knife. It wasn’t Jason’s fault he died. It wasn’t Dick’s fault either. Neither Steph’s or Damian’s. Damian had unconsciously taken cover behind Tim, who was standing between Damian and the screen with an arm hovering over the kid’s shoulder.

“WHAT THE FUCK BRUCE!” Screamed Steph at the screen, she was also on her feet at this point. Only Cass’s hand prevented her from trying to fight the digital apparition. “WE DON’T JUST GO AROUND DYING WILLY NILLY, IT’S NOT MY-, IT’S NOT HIS FAULT!” Her voice shrilly echoed around the cave, drowning out the audio temporarily.

Dick was on his knees, wiping his bloody nose, looking up confused. WHACK. A powerful kick sent him flying off the platform, crashing into a costume display case. “I have a mission for you, Dick. I need you to do something that will hurt your friends. Your family.” Bruce commanded. He could hear Damian inhale sharply. Tim stopped hovering and pulled Damian tightly into his chest, rushing forward to pause the video, with the boy in tow. His hand was over the button before Cass sprung forward and grabbed his wrist. Jason had never seen Cass look this angry without the mask.

“I deserve to know.” She said with conviction, anger deep in her voice. “I deserve to know what kind of father he is.” She spat. Jason wasn’t going to touch that with a ten foot pole.

“But he shouldn’t, I mean I don’t know if, I mean I don’t know what, I mean-” Tim sputtered glancing from the screen to Damian and back again.

“I want to know the truth.” Came Damian’s tiny reply. He looked so young, he pushed away from Tim’s chest, but leaned into his side.

Cass pulled Tim’s hand back. “I fought him once.” She admitted. “I need to know.” She repeated.

Tim looked at her pleadingly. Bruce and Dick raged at each other on screen. Blood flowed from the cuts on Dick’s back. “I…I…” Tim stammered.

“We all deserve to know.” Steph piped up, leaning against the side of the computer.

“Fight like you’re alive!” Bruce yelled on the screen. CRACK. An oversized die broke on impact with the back of Dick’s head. Dick retaliated, throwing a question mark back.

The words were blurring in Jason’s head, his rage clouding his thoughts, and overtaking his senses. The rest of the world was disappearing, leaving only the screen behind. His vision tunneled. He crossed his arms as tightly as he could, willing himself to stay in place. Stay calm. His hearing cut out. But he could still read his name on his brother’s lips just before Bruce delivered an uppercut powerful enough to knock Dick off the dinosaur.

The next thing Jason knew Cass was sitting on him. People were yelling at him.

“-on’t break the screen-”

“-up I need to see-”

“-op fighting-”

Cass smiled apologetically before tapping a pressure point. Jason allowed himself to fade into the darkness.

 He came to in a medical bay of the cave, with an intense desire to get out. This place was cursed. He needed out, he needed to think, he needed to process, but he needed to get out. He pushed himself up and swung his legs off the bed.

“Wait.” Came a voice from behind him. He spun off the bed to see Tim, awkwardly standing on the other side of the cot. Jason edged towards the door. “We know where he is.” Tim offered. Jason glanced at Tim, and back to the door.

“Can we talk somewhere else?” He asked quietly. He didn’t want to be in the cave for this. Tim awkwardly bobbed side to side.

“Uh about that. We’re moving out.” He said quickly. Jason opened the door.

“OMGIT’SREDHOODHIMR.REDHOODSIRPLEASEDON’TKILLTIM-”

Jason slammed the door in the kid’s face. He stared at Tim, who was banging his head into the wall with a hand covering his eyes.

“Do I even want to know?” Jason asked. Tim groaned.

“I called my team to help us move out, we’re going to use the bunker for Gotham operations from now on.” Tim explained. A loud crash came from outside. The door whipped open.

“Heythegiantpennyisn’t-” The kid started. Jason growled at him. “-nevermindbyebye.” The speedster zipped away and slammed the door.

“You decided this without me?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow at Tim. Tim looked back at him sheepishly.

“You’re already out voted. Besides you really want to stay here?” He replied evenly. Jason shrugged, that was fair. He’d already tried to leave. “I know you said you don’t want to talk here, but I don’t know when I’ll get you alone again.” Jason sighed. That’s valid, he was planning on avoiding the family for a bit. “Please don’t pull a disappearing act.” Jason looked up at him.

“Why not?” He challenged.

“We don’t need Bruce to be a family.” Tim replied. It sounded rehearsed. That was also fair. “And we need each other too. We found some communications from Dick, Bruce left him stranded when he got amnesia, he’s coming back in a few days.” Jason couldn’t look Tim in the eye anymore.

“I don’t know what to do.” He said honestly, looking at Tim’s shoes. What do you say after something like this? After watching something like that. After knowing the truth.

“Neither do we, but we’ll figure it out together.” Tim offered. He looked sad, tired, his face fell before he spoke again. “He…he misses us.” He spoke softly. “On the recordings. I, I don’t think Bruce even told him about Damian.” Jason swore softly under his breath. Bruce was one fucking piece of work.

“Is there anything else I should know?” Jason said after a moment, catching Tim’s eye once more.

Tim shook his head. “The rest of the tape was mostly the same.” He said quietly. “He won.” He added as an afterthought. Jason snorted. Tim gave a warry smile. None of them ever won. Not in the ways they wanted to. Only when the prizes were more pain, more guilt, more heartbreak.

Jason leaned back against the wall. How was this the way things ended up? Was Bruce always this cruel? The man was unrecognizable to Jason. It was inexcusable. After Willis? After Cain? After Brown? Hell, even Tim’s father was emotionally abusive before he died. Why couldn’t any of them have a normal father? A stable parental relationship. It wasn’t fair. And it hurt more because he didn’t even know where it started. Bruce had been a good father to him. Had that been a lie? He’d never looked to closely at why Dick had left home, could it be that…that…? Had Jason missed something like this? Would he ever even know what he’d missed? They didn’t have as many cameras back then.

Tim had crossed the room and put a hand on his shoulder. “He’ll be okay.” He said confidently. “As long as we have each other, we’ll all be okay.” Tim squeezed his shoulder gently before disappearing through the door into the chaos that used to be his childhood fantasy. When had it all gone so wrong, he had to ask himself. He hated that he knew the answer. His death was this fucking family’s original sin. But you know what, that wasn’t his fault. Even if it felt like it. Even if Bruce still blamed him. Dick didn’t look at him like a ghost, he didn’t look at him like a kid in over his head, like a regret, like a mistake. It was time for Bruce to grow the hell up and move on. Bad experiences don’t justify beating your kids. Maybe from here, they could move on. Maybe from here on, they could heal. Maybe they could start over. Maybe they could make their own new family. Bruce had abused them, lied to them, manipulated them enough. It was time to rise from the ashes like a phoenix and fly again. He wouldn’t know unless he tried. He didn’t have to give up on Gotham. But maybe it was time to give up on Bruce.

Jason swung open the door, descending into a future unknown, diverging from the circle of heartache and abuse. He had broken the cycle once before, on his own, with a new family made of friends, one of his choosing. And now he chose to break it once more, and this time he resolved not to leave his siblings behind.

[thebabelfiles]

Name: Cyborg

Secret Identity: Victor Stone

Species: Human

Threat Level: 4 - Severe

Abilities: A mix of human and cybernetics, Vic is the peak of robotic enhancement. As a result of his Promethium shell, Cyborg is extremely resistant to attacks, and can easily repair any damage dealt to him. His body is also outfitted with a number of functions, including an eye beam, propulsion jets, a white noise cannon, sensory arrays, and a Fatherbox that allows Vic to open ‘boom tubes’, essentially enabling instant teleportation.

In addition to these, Vic can also interface with any piece of technology, as well as having access to any information that has been stored on the internet. This has benefited the League a number of times, but I cannot deny that it is a major security risk.

Weaknesses: If something could disrupt the cybernetics in Vic's body, he would be left as an immobile shell. Likewise, psychic interference can similarly effect Vic’s brain as it would to any human.

Babel Protocol: During our time in the League, I worked to integrate a backdoor kill switch into Cyborg’s system. Only accessible by myself, it would serve to paralyse his body when activated, leaving only his life support systems functional.

Private Notes: Since Cyborg can access any system connected to the internet (including the Batcomputer), it was highly important for me to store my Babel Files on an offline database, disconnected from any external systems.

[heroicadventurists]

Teen Titans # 26 Recap & Review **SPOILERS**

Issue # 26 picks up directly after they escape the collapsing building.  Robin takes the team to the Batcave because his source (i.e Red Hood) on the Other has been compromised.  To even the score, they are going to steal the most powerful weapon in Batman’s arsenal…information. Robin tasks Roundhouse with hacking into the Batcomputer so they have full backdoor access to Batman’s criminal database. With that said, Robin leaves the team to handle something upstairs.  The team is upset that Robin is once again keeping secrets from the team, and to Red Arrow’s frustration, Djinn is missing.  Crush tries to cover for her by lying & saying Djinn was checking the perimeter.

At this point of the story, I’ll start referring to everyone by their real names because at the core of it, this issue is about family.  Not the batfamily but the Wayne family. 

Upstairs, Damian is walking the halls of the manor when he stops in front of his Paternal Grandparent’s portrait.  He ponders on how they are the reason Batman exists; but to him they are just faces on the wall.  While he’s thinking, Alfred comes up from behind him.  Damian wasn’t expecting Alfred to be home as he usually has tea on Saturday mornings with his friend Arune. 

Alfred mentions that they have been concerned for him.  Damian shrugs off any concerns from Bruce.  At this point the pleasantries are over and Alfred tells Damian that he should not take things that do not belong to him.  Damian tries to deny it but Alfred does not let up.  Whatever he took has the ability to hurt Jason and Alfred will not allow him to leave with it.  At this, Damian gets angry and asks Alfred why he is defending Jason.  Alfred responds that Jason is his brother and he would not allow any of them to hurt each other.

At this point an alarm goes off signifying an intruder in the cave.  Damian tells Alfred he should check on it but he refuses and says the situation is being handled.  We switch to the Teen Titans standing at the Batcomputer while Batman watches from above.  At this point he attacks, leaving the Teen Titans scrambling.

Back to Alfred and Damian.  Damian tells Alfred to get out of his way & he was going to do what his Father should have done to Jason.  Alfred points his secret agent umbrella at Damian and tells him that Jason has always struggled to figure out his role in this family and he believes that Jason is still struggling with his identity. 

He tells Damian to talk to Jason and that what he perceives as malice might just be miscommunication. Damian tells Alfred he’s not going to fight him in which Alfred responds that he sounds like Bruce.  He said he could never protect Bruce from himself and some lessons are meant to be learnt the hard way.  Damian calls Bruce a fool for the way he has treated the criminals in Gotham and when Alfred tries to rebuke that sentiment, Damian yells “BULL…..this obsession with the moral high ground is why we are losing.  They hit low, we need to hit lower” “If chaos is what it takes to clean the slate then so be it.  We can rebuild from the rubble”.   At this point, Alfred says he not like Bruce…he sounds like Ra’s.  With those words, Damian walks off, passing by portraits of the family, including Jason & Dick.  He pauses to stare at the family portrait over the fire place before moving on. 

As he’s walking back down to the cave, we see that Djinn has been following him.

Back in the cave, the Teen Titans are losing to Batman.  When Robin shows up, he cuts his head off with a sword.  It was a robot.  Djinn shows up at this moment and Red Arrow asks where she has been. She said she attempted to discover the source of the alarm but Red Arrow says she left before the alarm went off.  Djinn tells her she is mistaken.  Roundhouse informs the team that he has created a back door into the batcomputer and they leave.

Robin is in his secret prison when Red Arrow shows up.  She stops Black Mask from stabbing him.  As they walk, she tells Robin that she told him working with Red Hood was a bad idea.  He defends his decision saying the information he was providing was good.  And she responds “until it wasn’t”.  Robin said that he has always known Red Hood’s true nature but he thought……He couldn’t finish the words.  Red Arrow states that he promised they would take down The Other when she joined the team.  Robin pulls out a box and says Red Hood will no longer be a problem.

My thoughts…..Damian is in a sunken place.  I honestly didn’t have a problem with the prison because he’s right, Arkham is not cutting it.  Him having a prison is no different from Superman having the Phantom Zone. Damian’s main problem is being disconnected from his family.  He’s not talking to Bruce, Dick doesn’t have his memories and now he’s upset with Jason.  Tim is in Metropolis with his reformed team running around as Robin 2.0 and I have no idea what Duke is doing (who has been shown to get along well with Damian). You can tell he’s hurt at the thought of Jason betraying him.  He couldn’t even tell Red Arrow why he thought Jason would never betray him.  He didn’t think it was possible b/c he’s his brother.  With Bruce and Dick no longer being active in his life, he was hoping Jason could fill that void as his older brother.  I think he’s so disillusioned by family right now he’s not listening to Alfred or giving Jason the benefit of a doubt. 

Djinn is a possible suspect as a mole.  Djinn has been highly suspect the last couple of issues.  I’m not saying it’s malicious (someone else could literally be controlling her right now) but she is not trustworthy.  She is playing Damian and Crush.  The only person who sees through her charade is Red Arrow and she scared her straight. 

Robin also has to consider that he has a prison at his base of operations.  One of them may be the informant. 

Lastly Jason could have just gotten some bad intel, meaning no harm to Damian or his team.  Alfred tried to warn him that he will regret what he’s about to do to Jason. When the truth comes out he probably will regret it because Jason was the only family he was in constant communication with.  This issue just proves that Damian needs his family in his life, especially Bruce, because he is going down the wrong path. I didn’t see it at first but now I do.  Thankfully we only have to wait 5 days before we conclude this Jason issue.

Rating 1-7

Storyline 6-Good

Artwork 6-Good

Overall 6-Good

[imagineyoungjustice]

1.5k Followers Milestone Drabbles 4/10

D r a b b l e please! Maybe where the team is on Internet lockdown and have to come up with a way to keep entertained? -Anonymous

So I went a bit off-prompt because the only instance I see any form of internet lockdown being an issue for the team is when it interferes with their hero job because they accidentally locked themselves out of the system and are too afraid to go to one of the League members for help. So I know it’s not quite what you wanted but I hope you still enjoy it! Also this is set just a little extra bit before season 2 so Jaime hasn’t yet joined the team! -Terra

Tags: @ljblve @loverbug1123 @aworldwideapart @wallywestie

Want to be added to our tag list? Send us and ask!

           “How could you manage to lock us out of the entire system?!” Cassie shouted, throwing her hands up in the air.

           “With a lot of skill and an astounding lack of intelligence mixed with a heaping side dish of Murphy's Law.” Robin replied, rubbing the back of his neck with his gloved hand.

           “This is why I told you we should have waited for the older members to get back from their mission! What are we supposed to do now?”

           Robin just kept staring at the red screen in front of him, the bright text of “access denied” blinking back at him almost mockingly. He really hated himself right now. He was so confident that he could perform the upgrades to the Cave’s computer systems himself despite Dick’s warnings for him to wait for when he, M’gann, and Conner got back from their mission with the League. Batgirl was currently away on a solo mission for Bruce, leaving him as the only Bat on the team for the week. He just wanted Dick and Bruce to be proud of his skills and to stop treating him like he was some fragile baby bird that would break under the slightest use of force. He wanted them to stop treating him like a future Jason Todd.

           “Earth to Robin! You there or are you just going to keep ignoring me?” Tim blinked as his mind was pulled back to the present. He felt his face flush as he realized he had been ignoring her for probably a good while now.

           “Sorry, what were you saying again?”

           “I asked how we were supposed to do our jobs in the meantime if we can’t get into our own computer system?”

           “That would be… a really good question. I guess watching the news would be too much to hope for until we can get this fixed?” He tried to smile and lighten the mood, but by the look on Cassie’s face she wasn’t having it with his attempts at humor and in all honesty, he did deserve the resulting smack to the back of his head. “Guess that would be a no then.” He mumbled, more to himself than to anyone else.

           “What are you two fighting about in here?” Tim cringed as he heard Karen’s voice drift into the room, Mal, Garfield, and La’gaan trailing on her heels, all of them equally curious to the commotion in the training and mission debrief room.

           “Boy Wonder over here managed to lock us out of the Cave’s systems while upgrading everything on his own even though Nightwing told him to wait until they got back. So unless we figure something out we’re basically without internet for the whole week.” Cassie huffed and put her hand on her hip, rubbing at the bridge of her nose with her free hand. “You normally handle monitor duty Mal, is there anything you think you can do to fix this?”

           “I’m not really the guy you’d want to be asking. I can try, but this system is a lot different than any I’d be familiar with. I haven’t had the time to learn its in’s and out’s yet, not like the Bat’s have. I mean I could try turning it off and on again but that might be the extent of what I can do.” Cassie audibly groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose a little harder.

           “Why should we waste time trying to figure this out on our own? Let’s just contact the League and have them send Red or someone else to clear this up for us.” Karen remarked, already bringing her hand up to her earpiece.

           “Wait no!” Tim yelled, stretching his hand out to stop her before she could make the call.

           “What now? Did you knock out our communications too?” Karen asked, one of her eyebrows raised.

           “We just barely, convinced the League to let us oversee ourselves for a week without an appointed ‘Den Mother,’ what would that look like if barely halfway into our first day we made a call to them because we locked ourselves out of the computer system?”

           “You mean you locked us out of the computer system, the rest of us did nothing.” Cassie remarked.

           “Technicalities. Besides you think the League will care? If you make that call they’ll never trust us to look after ourselves again.”

           “He does have a point.” Gar said, looking up at Karen. “They were already really reluctant in the first place.”

           “I’m sure Robin will have figured it out before the week is over. He’s a Bat, they practically live and breathe tech.” La’gaan added.

           It was quiet for a few moments as Karen considered the situation. She narrowed her eyes at Tim, “You sure you can get the system back online before the week is over?” When he nodded, she just let out a defeated sigh. “Alright then, I won’t contact the League, but you better get that system back online, priority: alpha do you understand me?”

           “Yes ma’am.” Tim saluted, barely able to hide the rush of relief he felt that followed upon knowing they were in the clear from him having to explain this mess to Bruce.

           “That’s great and all we still need to figure out what we’re doing for missions now.” Cassie interjected. “All our mission data was on file here and now we have nothing.”

           “Actually, we do have some of it.” Tim replied, fishing in his utility belt and tossing her a flash drive. “Bats teaches us to always be prepared, so I tend to make copies of current info in relation to our current missions. If we need anything else, I can always rip whatever we need from the Batcomputer back at the Batcave.”

           “And I supposed you call this your Batdrive?” She teased turning the small flash drive over in her hands, the black bat logo catching the reflection of the lights.

           “No.” Tim snapped. Yes. She didn’t need to know that though.

           “Right old school it is then. I’ll go grab a laptop for us to use in the meantime. Everyone be ready for debrief by the time I get back.” Karen called, already halfway to the Zeta-tubes with Mal not too far behind her. “Oh and Robin?” He turned his head to look at her when he heard his code name. “Try not to shut off the lights or something else in the meantime.” With that, the tubes flared to life and he was left to deal with the barely muffled laughs from his teammates. He deserved that, he concluded, and went back to work on checking the wiring of the Cave’s computer in their absence.

           “This is going to be an utter disaster this week.” Cassie deadpanned.

           “I’m sure things will turn out swimmingly.” La’gann remarked, patting her on the back of her shoulder. Somehow, Cassie wasn’t all that convinced, and neither was Tim if he was listening to that quiet, honest voice he currently had shoved in the back of his mind in favor of the sweet, sweet, serenade of the voice of denial at the forefront.

          In reality, they were both completely correct. Things were indeed not going very well at all. Tim was currently racing through the jungles of Santa Prisca the sounds of bullets hitting the trunks of the trees a little too close for comfort all around him. Most of the week had been much like things were now. The Batcomputer had a lot of information, but it often lacked just that tiny bit of useful data that would have been on the team’s computer in the cave, especially for missions and locations the team had been previously.

          Karen would do her best as acting leader, but all of their plans never made it far past the drop zone. Tim’s little mess up had them walking in largely blind to most of their operations, and every time they paid the price for it, just barely securing what they set out to accomplish before having to make a hasty retreat. Speaking of mess-ups, after almost the whole week Tim was still no closer to accessing the Cave’s computer than he had been when this had all started. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t get the system to let him in. Tim was ready to start banging his head against a wall if only that would be what it took for the computer to call out that beautiful “access granted” and they could all get back to their lives a little worse for wear but largely unharmed.

          If only.

          Once they were back at the cave, Cassie rounded on him. “How could you still have no idea how to fix the computer!?”

          “You’ve been watching me the whole week Cassie! You know I’ve tried literally everything I could think of short of an entire system reset! There’s nothing we can do!”

          “This is why we should have just called the League! But noooooo, you wanted to save face and fix this yourself! We’ve been getting our butts handed to us this whole damn week because you said you could fix it! Well guess what? Nothing’s changed since this first went down!”

          “Cassie has a point Robin,” Karen said, peeling off her Bumblebee mask and rubbing her temples, “we’ve still got nothing a week later, we should have just contacted the League. Nightwing and the other’s will be back from their mission in the morning, you’re going to be the one to tell them since this was your doing in the first place okay?”

          “Yeah, I understand.” He really wasn’t looking forward to how that was going to go tomorrow.

          “Good, team dismissed. Everyone get some rest.” Tim didn’t wait around for too long, just wanted the morning to come quickly so that he could deal with it and get it over with.

          It was every bit as embarrassing and awkward as he knew it was going to be. He had pulled Nightwing aside as soon as he entered the next morning and fumbled his way through the events of the week. The entire time he refused to look him in the eyes, but he could tell from body language that Nightwing wasn’t too pleased with him.

          “Look, Tim,” he braced himself for what was coming, “I’m not mad that you locked yourself out of the system, we’ve all done it at some point, but I am disappointed that you didn’t ask for help, and as a result put yourself and the rest of the team in danger. You’ll get a proper reprimand and punishment for that later on.”

          He looked up then, a little shocked at how calm he was being about the situation. “That’s… completely fair, I won’t let it happen again. I’m sorry.”

          “Like I said it’s okay, but see that you don’t put the team’s health in jeopardy like that again okay? Now, let’s see if we can’t figure out what it is you did to lock yourself out.” Tim just nodded and followed Dick back out into the training room, watching as he went through the motions of checking the Cave’s internal systems. Dick was quiet for a moment as he observed the virtual keyboard.

          “Hey Robin, you did know that caps lock was on, right?”

          What.

          His face must have given his confusion away. “The caps lock is on. You did try putting the password in without it right?” With a few taps of his fingers, the system was back online, the red screen of denial fading away to the green of granted access that had the last of Tim’s soul dying inside of him. “System looks to be in order… Oh! Looks like the upgrades went in smoothly, good job Robin.” There was a bit of a pause as Dick continued to check the system. “Please tell me you guys weren’t locked out of the system the whole week because you didn’t check to see if the caps lock was on.”

          Tim just hid his face into his hand and prayed to whatever deity may or may not exist that an alert would go off somewhere or that he would spontaneously die to escape the embarrassment of his current situation. As fate would have it, no such thing happened, and Dick’s smirk only grew wider on his face as the realization set in.

          Tim was never going to hear the end of this.

[maryenette-writes]

Imperfect Pt. 5 [Batsis]

@kpkarlee @jadedhillon @dc-comics-imagines @cleopatra-isis @wtfisachoncexx @holywinchesterness @thestarsintheknight @aworldwideapart

A/N: And after 1000000000000000000 years....

Pairing: Tim Drake x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Nothing much

Word Count: 1390

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

MASTERLIST

Tim knew there were things in this universe that were facts. The Earth was round, the planets circle around the sun, the grass was green and the sky was blue. Jason was an asshole and Damian was the spawn of the devil himself.

He also knew for a fact that [F/N] was completely and utterly hopeless and they couldn’t do anything to help her get out of her unhealthy lifestyle… or at least, he thought he knew that it was a fact. It turned out that this ‘fact’ was a complete lie for [F/N] had as much skills as anyone in the family. She wasn’t to be underestimated. After all, she fooled everyone, a family of the world’s greatest detectives.

He stared at his older sister type away on the Batcomputer, accessing the CIA database using her clearance level. While Bruce and the others were hunting down the people who had attacked [F/N] that night Jason found her, Tim was tasked with looking after his sister, who was under house arrest until it was safe for her. Tim hid it well, but he was incredibly impressed and shocked by her abilities. This level of access was a level even he couldn’t hack into, so to see the amount of information in it was fascinating to say the least.

[F/N] pulled up several files of terrorists and more on different terrorist groups, examining each of them carefully. He could imagine the gears turning in her head. She was so focused on her work, it contrasted greatly with the sister he knew before. He wondered if she was some clone or something like that, and it was a real possibility because she just seemed too different. Someone couldn’t just change like that.

“This…” [F/N] murmured, scanning the words on the screen, “no, this can’t be done, not here. They’ll definitely track us.”

“Track?” Tim repeated, alarmed. “That’s impossible, this system--”

“You underestimate the CIA, Tim.” [F/N] cut him off sharply, “they’re on par with each of you. Don’t be careless.”

Tim swallowed and nodded, slightly fearing his sister. She was scary when she was serious, but that could be due to never seeing her like this before. It was strange and foreign. He had no idea who she was and that scared him.

“Dick, pass me my phone.” [F/N] ordered, reaching her hand out. Dick nodded solemnly and passed the phone to her, not wanting to disobey her.

He scooted a little closer to Tim. “She’s frightening when she’s working.” Tim muttered.

“She works in the CIA, it shouldn’t come as a surprise.” Dick responded.

“Sorry… still getting used to this whole… agent [F/N] thing.” Tim sighed. He wasn’t as close to [F/N] as Dick or Jason, he didn’t know her before her ‘wild party animal’ phase. Dick stated she went off the rails after Jason’s death, but they always used to reminisce about the old [F/N], the selfless, kind and outgoing girl whom they loved dearly. He had found that hard to believe. To him, all [F/N] was, was an alcoholic drug addict and a complete trainwreck. The scandals she was involved in had been some of the worst in the history of humanity.

“Hey,” [F/N] spoke into her phone, her tone changing from hard to soft in mere seconds, “yeah it’s been awhile, sorry about that…. yeah, but I’m in Gotham City, not DC… no, I am--” she sighed and rubbed her eyes, “okay, fine, but I’m not paying--we’re going completely off topic. Look, I need you to do a favor, no questions asked… yes, you owe me a no questions asked.”

She paused for a bit, then continued, “3rd of July, last year, did you forget? Because I certainly haven’t.” she chuckled and shook her head, “yeah, that. Anyway, I need you to access the database, get me all the information on recent terrorist activities from our intel and from our investigations, then send it through… privately.” she sighed and rubbed her forehead, “no questions asked, remember. I’m counting on you. Thanks.”

“Who was that?” Dick questioned after [F/N] hung up.

“A friend.” she said rather dismissively, “no one you need to worry about.”

“Right.” Tim said skeptically, not really believing that. He didn’t want to not trust [F/N], it was just that calling favors in their line of work was risky.

[F/N] seemed to have sensed his mood and tilted her head, before smiling gently. “That man I just called saved my life at least a dozen times. You can trust him.”

Tim wiped the sweat off his forehead with his forearm and tightened the grip around his bo staff. He had been training for a good two hours now, anything to get his mind off the case. He was anxious, wanting to get out there with them but he knew he wasn’t allowed to.

As he swung his weapon once more, he felt someone watching him. He turned to see [F/N] standing there, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. Tim tried to ignore her and continue his training, but something about her presence made him nervous.

“Want a partner?”

Tim paused and stared at her. Was she offering to train with him?

“Yeah, sure…” Tim mumbled, realizing he couldn’t actually say no. If he denied her, he would definitely look like he hated her.

She grabbed another bo staff from the rack and stepped onto the training floor, smiling slightly. Her personality seemed to switch constantly. One minute she was a drunkard, the next she was a serious CIA agent, and then she became the loving sister. It was difficult for Tim to tell which one he was facing now.

But perhaps that was her greatest strength, taking on multiple personalities, creating countless facades and personas until nobody could tell which one was the real one. In a way, she was manipulating people, or at least, she was playing mind games with them by simply standing there.

Tim struck first, holding back slightly as he didn’t know whether he should go full out or not, but she defended herself with precision and incredible skill. She knocked him back instantly and before he could recover, she struck him, swinging the bo staff as if it was part of her body.

Tim jumped back and made a split-second decision to not hold back, because [F/N] certainly wasn’t. He attacked her again, this time with all his strength. They engaged in a heated duel, none of them backing down. He was shocked that [F/N] could keep up with him and defend herself, even landing some hits at times and man did they hurt.

Eventually, [F/N] managed to knock her little brother off his feet and had her bo staff pointed at him. She grinned victoriously, her eyes twinkling with excitement. It was the first time Tim had seen her look so… genuinely happy.

He put his hands up, showing her that he surrendered. “Okay,” he panted, “you win.” She lifted the weapon away from him and offered a hand, one which he took gratefully. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”

“What did you think I was doing in Washington DC the whole time?” [F/N] inquired, putting the bo staff back on the rack, “I wasn’t slacking off or banging the president, contrary to popular belief. They had good training facilities, and even better teachers.”

“Talking about that scandal, why were you with the president then?” Tim asked with a laugh, but also really curious about the reason she was with the man.

“I’m a CIA agent,” she responded, “and sometimes one of us gets sent to the president for business purposes.” she shook her head, “but of course, I’m [F/N] Wayne, so the press would naturally think I’m sleeping with him.”

“I’m sorry…” Tim mumbled, feeling bad for her. He realized now how much she had to deal with, all the secrets she had to keep and the responsibilities that rested on her shoulders. She was very much like Bruce, even when she didn’t know it. Only a true Wayne could fool the press while being a kickass warrior behind the scenes.

Tim smiled at that thought.

Maybe his sister wasn’t so bad after all.

[drawingsanddrabbles]

Joke’s On You

Chapter Four: I’m Starting to Miss Gotham

betaed by @ilovebeingintroverted

links

“Damian!” Damian stumbled backwards as a fifteen year old flung himself at him. Stephanie rolled up behind him, Cassandra strolling beside her. The young Jason Todd disentangled himself from the original Robin and began to… bounce. Damian grimaced at his younger’s enthusiasm. “Are you going to spar with me and take me out on patrol?”

“That is up to Father, Jason.” Damian smiled at the girls and kissed each on the cheek in turn. “It is good to see you both.”

“Like it ever isn’t.” Stephanie snorted.

Damian opened his mouth to reply but Cass interrupted with: “Hug.” Her arms wide open.

“Cassandra, I gave you a kiss. Is that not enough?”

“Hug.”

Damian sighed and hugged his adoptive sister. Stephanie smirked, and made a whipped motion with her hand. Damian rolled his eyes. It wasn’t like his father could deny Cassandra either. When Cassandra was satisfied she released Damian. The four began to walk to the entrance to the Cave.

“So, what brings the prodigal son home?”

“I am hardly prodigal, Stephanie. I simply returned to Gotham to work on a joint business venture with Father. Nothing more. Then I will return to Bludhaven.”

“And how long will you bless us with your presence, kid?” Stephanie asked.

“Why, Stephanie? Sick of me already?”

“Always.”

“Ah.” A clean British voice rang, drawing the attention of the vigilantes. “Master Damian, you have arrived. Have you brought your animals?”

“Not to worry, Pennyworth. My pets are at home with Maya and Colin.”

“Oh! How are they?” Stephanie asked, cheerfully. Last Stephanie had heard of the two young adults Damian had been complaining about how his new penthouse apartment suddenly had more than one human tenant.

“Fine. Colin never puts away the milk and Maya spoils Pennyworth but fine.”

“Pennyworth…”

“My cat, Stephanie.”

“Ah… of course.”  Stephanie didn’t try to hide her giggles. Damian ignored her. They reached the grandfather clock and Damian opened it, chivalrously letting the girls go first. Cass helped Steph’s wheelchair down the rather steep ramp that had been added to allow Steph access to the Cave. Jason bounced after them and Damian closed the door.

“Hey Bruce! Look who came for a visit!” Stephanie called out.

Bruce Wayne sat at the Batcomputer in his suit, cowl down. He didn’t even cock his head towards the newcomers. “And right in time for patrol too.” Bruce added.

Once on less declining ground Steph took control of her wheelchair again and wheeled herself over to Bruce who sat in the large very expensive leather chair at the computer. “Jason, Cass, get dressed.” His two protégés dashed off to get their costumes. “Are you joining us, Damian?” Bruce asked.

The younger Wayne shook his head. “Nice to see you too, Father. No, I think I’ll keep Stephanie company tonight.”

“Suit yourself.” Bruce said before standing and pulling up his mask.

Damian sat in his Father’s recently relinquished chair and squawked indigently when Steph pushed the swivel chair away from the keyboard. The blonde smirked at her old partner who looked very mortified by his own squawking, but Damian recovered quickly and Steph went back to preparing for tonight’s patrol.

“So, on the agenda tonight… Two-Face has been stealing two headed coins, next up on the list of spots for him to hit is Gotham Monetary Museum, -“

“There’s a museum for that stuff?” Jason asked.

“Apparently,”

“Wow, some people need to get a life.”

“Anyway, they’re showing off famously messed up coins, some of which are double headed. After that there’s a fresh green riddle at the GCPD that Commissioner Gordon wants you to take a look at, and finally it seems that Harley Quinn may not be as retired as everyone thinks she is. She put out a ‘wanted ad’ for henchwomen in the latest Gazette’s classifieds.”

“So the usual then,” Bruce said.

“Yep. The usual.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come, Dami? It’ll be fun!” Jason prodded.

“And you’re implying I’m not?” Stephanie huffed. Jason turned a pretty shade of pink and opened his mouth to respond, but Damian interrupted him.

“I’m sure, Jason.”

“Come.” Cass told Robin from behind her sewn up mask. She tugged the bird away from the two at the computers and they all hopped in the Batmobile and rocketed away.

Stephanie pulled up a window on her computer. “Comms on?” She asked into the microphone.

“Batman, check.”

“Batgirl, check.”

“Robin, check.”

“Happy hunting tonight, guys.” Stephanie well-wished them. She then pressed the mute button and turned to Damian. “What is it?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What is what, Stephanie?”

“You never skip out on patrol, what do you want to talk to me about?”

“Can I not just spend some quality time with my ex-partner?” Steph glared at him. Damian sighed. “I wished to know if you were well. Without Father’s imposing presence.”

“Damian, your father has never made me say anything that I didn’t believe a thousand percent. Nor has he stopped me from speaking my mind. And why the sudden interest in my well being?”

“I have always cared about your well being!” Steph raised a shaped eyebrow. “I have!” Damian insisted.

“So the years of merciless teasing and cutting my grapple cord was… flirting?”

Damian looked affronted. “It was never flirting! I was testing you.”

Steph smirked. “Uh huh.”

“Stephanie, I don’t and never have had a crush on you.” It wasn’t technically a lie. He never had a crush on her but he had had a squish of a sort. Not that he’d ever say that word aloud or that he’d tell her or anyone else.

“Your loss.” Steph said flippantly.

“Have you been keeping up on your training?” Damian asked.

Stephanie grinned and made a muscle. “Feel these guns! Hard as rock!” She patted her stomach proudly. “These too, like a friggin cheese grater. C’mon, feel ‘em.”

Damian grimaced. “I’d rather not.”

“C’mon! Feel them!”

“No.”

“Dami…”

“I am not feeling your abdominal muscles, Stephanie.”

Steph stuck her tongue out at him. “That’s just ‘cuz you’re worried they’re better than yours.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“You are incorrigible!”

“But that’s why you love me,” Steph sang.

Damian snorted. “Please, Stephanie. You know I am incapable of love.” It was meant to be a joke. Stephanie and Damian used to joke about his emotional constipation constantly, but that was a long time ago. That was when Timothy was alive. That is, when Timothy was alive and Steph and Damian were talking. Their complicated relationship had been a silent one for most of the time when Steph was dating Damian’s sudden brother, Damian didn’t blame her for the radio silence. Stephanie was Timothy’s girlfriend and so siding with him on arguments came naturally, especially when Damian was being an asshole to Tim, which he was a lot.

Steph inhaled sharply and glanced over at the wall of glass cases. The cases displayed retired costumes, Bruce had a couple in there; Damian’s Robin costume hung there, a drawn katana was positioned to look like his clothing was about to stab someone; Stephanie had two costumes in the wall as well, her Spoiler costume which was retired when she started officially working with Batman and Robin, although it was on the tail end of Damain’s Robin years, and her Batgirl costume; and finally Timothy’s costume, red and green and black, gold colored R symbol.

“The anniversary is coming up.” Steph whispered. “That’s why you asked how I was…”

Damian nodded.

“Well I’m fine, Damian.” She took a deep breath and clearly stated she didn’t want to continue with this topic of conversation.

“Stephanie-“

“I said, I’m fine. I may be a grieving girlfriend but I’m not helpless.”

“I never said you were.”

“’Wing? Oracle? Haven’t heard from you guys in a while. You okay?” Jason asked, slightly out of breath. They must have been chasing someone. Steph jumped from the interruption, both she and Damian had been tuning out the conversation that the Bats had been having on patrol.

Steph turned off the mute button. “We’re good, Rob.”

“Cool. Hey, Oracle, what’s the Knights-Metros score?”

Steph tapped on her keyboard. “9-7.”

“Woo!” Jason cheered on the other line. There was a crack and it sounded like Jason punched a guy out.

“Oracle, Robin, is comms really the place for this conversation?”

“’Course it is, B, what else would we talk about?” Steph asked lazily. Damian smirked.

“And I thought you were the responsible one…”

“Liar.” That was Cass.

Some complaining was heard from the other end of comms, the familiar hoarse voice of Two-Face. “We have Dent. Going to the GCPD to drop him off now.” Bruce said over the comms.

“Have fun.”

The rest of patrol went smoothly, or as smoothly as patrol in Gotham ever was. Harley Quinn was a dead end, despite her ‘wanted ad’ she was nowhere to be found and Poison Ivy wasn’t any help. They decided to call it a night, they could always search for her tomorrow. Bruce rolled back into the Cave with Alfred on hand to begin patching up his employer. Bruce had gotten a nasty scratch across the cheek and Cass had twisted her ankle badly.

“Jason, get into bed.”

“Aw! But Bruce-“

“You have school tomorrow. Bed.”

Jason pouted but slipped out of his uniform and into the pajamas that Alfred had laid out on the operating table that wasn’t currently being used. “You too, young Miss.” Alfred said referring to Cass. Cass limped over to him and the butler handed her a bag of ice for her foot. “Your evening tea is in your room.”

“’Night Alfie! ‘Night Bruce! ‘Night Steph! ‘Night Damian! ‘Night Cass!” Jason called before trudging up the stairs.

Cassandra waved before following him with her bag of ice.

“You should go to bed, too, Steph.”

“You aren’t my dad.”

“Steph…” Bruce sighed and rubbed his eyes wearily.

“I’m a grown woman, Bruce. You have no legal say over me.”

“You aren’t going to win an argument with her, Father.” Damian added. Steph grinned brilliantly at him.

“Steph, can you at least go make sure that Jason is in bed and not smoking.”

Steph opened her mouth to argue but saw the look on Bruce’s face. The one that he was currently directing at Damian. He wanted her gone for another reason. “Fine. But I’m only doing it for him.”

“All patched up, Master Bruce.”

“Thank you, Alfred.” Alfred picked up his first aid gear and joined Stephanie on their way out of the Cave.

Bruce waited until they were both gone and the Cave entrance was closed.  “Damian.”

“Father.”

Bruce stood and walked over to the Batcomputer. He typed something in, and then stood back and crossed his arms. “What do you make of this?”

Damian swerved so that he was in front of the screen and read the headline. His eyebrows began to climb as he scanned the article.

“Someone is toying with us.”

The headline read: OLD NAME, NEW FACE; THE RED HOOD STRIKES AGAIN. The article itself had been written by Vicki Vale. In it she mentioned the recent appearances of a vigilante on the streets saving whomever he happened to come by, and that she had spoken with him before the influx of heroism had happened. He’d spoken to her about Gotham, and for his safety she wouldn’t divulge anything else about their talk. She was interested in what the next few days would bring.

However, neither of the Waynes shared her enthusiasm. “I agree. And...?”

“And they want us to know that.”

“A man named Red Hood begins saving victims. He asks the most famous native reporter about Gotham, why?”

“Red Hood, it’s too much of a coincidence, he must know about his mantle’s past bearers. Asking about Gotham… reporters know things. If you want information, a reporter is a logical place to begin looking.”

“But why not hit the street?”

“Who says he hasn’t?”

“Good point.” Batman frowned.

“Are you contemplating whether or not we should visit Miss Vale?” Damian asked with a raised eyebrow.

Bruce stared at the computer screen for a few more seconds before shaking his head. “Tomorrow. We will deal with this tomorrow.”

Damian nodded. “Will I see you in the morning, Father?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t forget, we have a meeting at noon.”

“I never do.”

“Goodnight, Father.”

“Goodnight, Damian.”

Damian groaned. His phone blared by his ear and he decided that as soon as he went back to the Tower he would kill Jon. The human-Kryptonian had changed Damian’s ringtone again, this time it was the song Rockin’ Robin.

“All the little birdies on Jaybird Street,

Love to hear the Robin go tweet, tweet, tweet.”

Damian grappled for the phone and picked it up. “Hello Jon.” He mumbled groggily.

“Hey Dami. Nice view of your ear.” Huh? Damian blinked the sleep from his eyes and stared at the phone. Oh, they were on video chat.

“Is that Damian? Hi Damian!” Traya called from off camera. She skipped up next to Jon.

“Why have you called at such an ungodly hour?”

“Aww, we woke up Damian. Look, he’s all grumpy.” Jon teased. Traya giggled.

“What do you want?”

“Damian it’s like, ten AM there.”

“Ungodly. Hour.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Why are you two awake?”

“We were going to go to the beach with the team.” Jon said.

“But then it was attacked.” Traya added.

“And the others are taking care of that, so we thought this might be a good time to call you.” Jon concluded.

The team still hated Damian, not that Damian blamed them. Damian wasn’t exactly the kindest to their now late best friend. “You called me. In the morning. To say ‘hi’.” The disbelief in Damian’s voice was evident.

“Can’t we miss our friend?” Jon pouted.

“You totally love that we do.” Traya added, sticking out her tongue.

Damian rolled his eyes. “Damian? Are you awake?” The hero heard from outside his door.

“No. Go away.” Damian responded.

Stephanie opened the door and rolled in. “Who is that?” Traya asked.

“Who are you talking to?” Steph said as she rolled up to Damian’s bed.

“No one. Go away.” Damian repeated to her. Stephanie ignored him and took his phone away.

“Hey Trays! Hey Jono! How are you?”

“Stephanie!” Traya cried happily.

“We’re great! Man, we’ve missed you Steph. You ever going to visit again?” Jon asked.

Steph shrugged. “Maybe, I’m a little grounded lately.”

“Aw that sucks.”

“Miss you too, so is this business or pleasure?” Damian rolled his eyes. Of course, Steph would walk in during a personal call from his friends and take the phone away from him.

“Actually, it’s a little of both.” Wait, what?

“You didn’t say this before.” Damian said as he shoved himself into the frame.

“Yeah…” Jon looked at Traya sheepishly.

“You wanted to bring it up.” Traya said, nudging her friend.

Jon turned back to the camera. “Ollie brought over his new protégée two days ago.” Damian knew where this was going. They’d had this conversation before. “His name is Roy, and he’s thirteen.”

“No.”

“Damian-“

“I said no.”

Steph looked at Damian confused. She had no idea what he was talking about, and Damian didn’t want to get into it with her. “Damian at least hear us out…” Jon began.

“No.”

“Dami, what are they talking about?” Steph asked as Traya mumbled to Jon: “I told you he wouldn’t go for it.”

“Nothing. Jon, we will discuss this later.” Damian said as he ended the call to Jon’s protest and Traya’s look of disappointment.

“Damian, what was that about?”

“Nothing.”

“Damian, they were talking about the new Speedy, why was mentioning that he was thirteen important?”

“No reason. Jon thinks random facts are important.”

“This is about Jason.”

Damian grimaced and began to get ready for the morning. “Are you here for a reason?”

“Yeah. Why is this about Jason? You-“ Steph’s eyes widened. “You’ve told the team, right? You told them that Jason is Robin.”

“I didn’t have to.” Damian began brushing his teeth.

“Damian…”

“They may not like me, but they aren’t stupid. They heard that Robin was back out there and went to Jon and Colin, who caved because they’re spineless. The three brats haven’t spoken to me since, and I don’t blame them.”

“But they haven’t met.”

“Jason is not ready.”

“Jason is ready.”

“No, he isn’t.”

“You just want to pretend he isn’t because that means that you can still train him.” Steph snapped. “You want to keep him at home. You want to keep him safe. Well guess what Damian, you. Can’t. Save. Everyone.”

“But I can save him!”

Steph sighed, rubbing her eyes wearily. “No, Damian. You can’t, because he doesn’t need to be saved. Now go take a shower and I’ll tell Alfred to make you breakfast to go.”

“Don’t bother. It’s late enough that I have to meet Father for lunch soon anyway.”

Steph sighed and wheeled out of Damian’s room. Damian stripped before taking a shower. He probably dawdled a little in there but hey, he could speed to the appointment. After a blissfully hot shower came shaving, then after that came dressing. Damian dressed slowly, taking time to mull over what Stephanie had yelled at him. He’d avoided thinking about it in the shower so that he could have a peaceful half an hour but now it was all he could think about.  You can’t save everyone. Damian smoothed out his button-down shirt. But he could. He could save Jason. He could keep him safe. It was his responsibility. He doesn’t need to be saved. He might not need to be saved but maybe Damian needed to save him…

Damian groaned, now Stephanie had gotten into his head. Damian hated when she did that. He began knotting the blue tie around his neck. Why did he ever listen to her? Shit, he messed up the knot. Damian angrily undid what he had done and tried again when someone knocked on his door.

“Come in.”

“Need help?” Cassandra asked.

“No.” Damian lied. He was too distracted to tie his accessory correctly and Cassandra realized it. She walked over to her brother and took the cloth from his hands.

“Upset.”

“I know Stephanie is upset, I won’t apologize, I do not believe I did anything wrong.”

“You.”

“Oh.” Damian hated when she did that. “Yes, I suppose I am upset.”

“Why?”

“Jason…”

“It’s always about Jason.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, he’s okay.”

“No. You and Steph.”

“Oh. Okay as always I guess.”

“Hate when you fight.” Cassandra finished with the tie. She stood back admiring her work before giving a final approving nod.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Say sorry to Steph. Not me.”

“Fine.” But only for you.

“Meeting.” Cassandra reminded him. Damian nodded and he walked downstairs with her. On his way down he walked past Stephanie who was doing something that Damian didn’t want to care less about.

“I’m sorry. But I can’t let him go.” Damian told the blonde. Steph looked up and then looked at Cass, then back at Damian.

“Go see your father, Damian.” She told him. “And I accept your apology.”

“I only apologized to you for Cassandra!” Damian called as he walked towards the door.

“I know!” Steph responded.

“Goodbye Alfred.”

“Farewell, Master Damian. Will you be back before dinner?”

“Yes. I’m taking the black Jaguar.”

“Very well Master Damian.”

“So, we’re all in agreement?” Bruce Wayne asked as he took a sip from his glass of water. Lucius Fox munched on his dessert merrily while his daughter Tamara shifted through folders. Tamara had been invited because Lucius wanted his daughter to be able phase easily into her soon-to-be-new job doing whatever Lucius did for Bruce (even Damian wasn’t sure where Lucius’s job requirements ended) only for Damian in Bludhaven.

“Yes, sir.” Tamara decided. She finished up sorting the papers and neatly placed her used utensils on her used plate, discarded napkin with them.

Bruce Wayne clapped his hands together gaily. Despite Damian living with his father for more than half of his life he was still weirded out by his father using his Bruce Wayne persona. The happiness and the light tones… it was just wrong. “Good! We’re all settled, then. Lucius, Tamara, would you like a ride back to the office?” Bruce Wayne waved his hand in the air, signaling the waitress that they would like their check.

“Actually, I was hoping to speak to you Mister Wayne.” Tamara said. Bruce waved his hand in a ‘go on’ motion and gave his credit card the waitress tipping her fifty.

“Oh! I meant Damian, sir. Damian… Mister Wayne. And… privately.” Bruce raised an eyebrow and Lucius sent a quizzical look to his daughter.

Damian nodded and stood. “Of course, Miss Fox. Would you like to discuss this on the way to my car? I could drive you to the office afterwards.”

“Uh… sure.” Tamara said, as she swept up her papers. Damian held the door for her and the two of them left the café.

Tamara held her work to her chest. She wore a blazer and a pair of suit pants, dark heels clicking against the pavement. She was nice, and Damian liked her a lot. She was younger than him, and the way she seemed to be optimistic about her future… it reminded him too much of Timothy. They would have been friends if they had ever met. “What did you wish to talk about?” He asked her.

“Um, so we’re going to be working together in Bludhaven.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Very closely.”

Damian raised an eyebrow. “Yes… we are.”

“And, well, I don’t know much about you.”

Damian frowned. Was this supposed to be a problem? “I know about you.”

Tamara sighed. “Mister Wayne, Damian, I know that you have a very close circle of friends. I know that you have a very private life. But if I am going to work for you I need to trust you.”

“Why wouldn’t you trust me, Tamara?”

“Call me Tam. I don’t trust you because you don’t even pretend to pretend.”

“Huh?”

“I know Bruce Wayne, and my father trusts him. My father has been telling me work stories of his since I was little, I’ve known him for that long as well. Damian, I know that Bruce fakes it. I know that he isn’t as happy and as flirtatious as he pretends. I’m not stupid. But the difference between you and your father is that your father pretends, you don’t even try. So, I don’t trust you. I want to trust you, Damian. I really do.”

Damian judged Tamara. For the first time, he really paid attention. She was a tall woman, but not taller than him, definitely not taller than six feet, with the heels maybe five nine. She was dressed well but not to impress him, she wasn’t about that. She held her back straight, tall, she was confident. “What do you suggest? I assume you have an idea to… bond?”

“Dinner.” Tamara proposed.

Damian nodded his head through an alley. “This way.” He and Tamara began to walk down the alley when they heard the click of a gun. You have got to be kidding me… Damian rolled his eyes and turned around.

“I would put down the gun if I were you.” He told the mugger.

The gun was steady. So, he wasn’t afraid. Damian had a knife in his sleeve but getting closer to disarm him would be less suspicious. Tamara looked frightened. Okay, that was unexpected. He figured she would at least have an iron stomach with the way she spoke. “Yer that rich Wayne dude, right?” The finger around the trigger tightened. “Gimme yer wallet.”

“Really? Like I’ve never been held up before…”

“C’mon, Damian, just give him your wallet.” Tamara urged, a hint of tightness in her voice.

“Yeah, man. Listen to yer girl.”

“She is not my ‘girl’, and I will not give you my-“ Thwack! Damian was glad he was used to the unforeseen because someone hitting the mugger with a baton and disarming him in one motion was not anything he expected to happen. Tamara screaming in surprise. A man in a jacket, cargo pants, and a red motorcycle helmet disassembled the gun with military precision. He hit the mugger in the back of the knee with his baton and the mugger went down like a ton of bricks. The Red Hood whipped a zip tie out of his pants pocket and restrained his hands behind his back. Damian frowned, he was good. He had done this before. His proficiency dealing with the mugger… it was familiar somehow. Like he’d learned from a ninja or an assassin. Then a thought occurred to Damian… no. No.

But it fit, the reason the Red Hood made Damian and his father know he existed, the reason the Red Hood chose a name so personal to the Waynes, the reason the Red Hood was so good at fighting…

The Red Hood looked up at Tamara and Damian. He nodded to Tamara. “Miss Fox.” He glanced at the Wayne heir and stared at him unnervingly through the mask. “Damian.”

That settled it. He had been sent here by Damian’s grandfather, which meant that Damian had some family members to track down.

Damian had demanded to come with on patrol. He and his Father sat on the rooftop of some warehouse while Cassandra and Jason dealt with the thugs on the ground below them. The Waynes had muted their comms so that they could speak in peace, which surprised no one. They usually took times like these to talk, that is when they were talking. “You’re sure that he’s connected to Ra’s?” Bruce asked.

Damian nodded. “I’d recognize Grandfather’s fighting style anywhere. He was trained by him, and you know that if my Grandfather trains someone, they work for him as well. You haven’t had run ins with him yet?”

“Never. Not as a civilian, nor as the Batman.”

Damian frowned. “That doesn’t bode well, Father. Do you think he’s trying to bait me?”

Bruce shook his head as he watched Jason dodge gunfire before taking away the offending weapon and bashing the thug over the head with it. “If he were trying to bait you we’d know. But his connection to the League of Assassins is concerning.”

“I concur. Do you think we should inform the others? For protection’s sake?”

“Not yet. We don’t know enough.”

“Understood.”

There was a pause. “Nightwing?”

“Yes, Father?”

“Maybe have Maya look into it. Quietly.”

“Already done.”

Batman snorted. “Yeah, you’re definitely my kid.” They both clicked their comms off of mute.

There was a sharp crack and a yowl and both heroes glanced over at Jason, who stood with a seething look on his face that Damian only recognized too well. It had been his natural facial expression for his first four years as Robin. That didn’t look good. Cassandra had defeated her foes on the ground but Jason kicked his opponent over again, screaming words that were in no way proper. Batman and Nightwing were there at once. Damian picked up the child, who fought him kicking and screaming.

“Robin! Robin! Calm down!” Damian hissed in his ear. Jason stopped flailing but that cheerful child that had greeted Damian at the door the day before was gone.

Jason wiggled from Damian’s grip. “He deserved it, ‘Wing! You didn’t hear what he was saying! About Oracle! About Batgirl! He deserved every broken bone!” The young boy shouted.

“Robin.” That was Cass’s warning tone, but Jason ignored it.

“Don’t look at me like that ‘Wing! You would have done the same thing if you had been Robin!” Damian couldn’t argue with that, but Damian had done a lot of things while Robin that he would never repeat.

Batman stood from his assessment of the broken man on the ground. “He’s unconscious but he’ll be fine. What were you thinking?” Bruce growled.

“I was protecting Oracle’s honor! I was protecting your honor! Besides, a man like that doesn’t deserve to have a working hand.”

“That isn’t for you to decide.”

“You break people’s bones all the time!”

“Not maliciously!” Batman snapped. Jason looked affronted. “You’re grounded, Robin. No going out for a week.”

“But B-!”

“I said, you’re grounded. We do not kill, we do not maim.” Damian had heard this speech before. “And we do not let our feelings get in the way of our crime-fighting, is that understood?”

Jason huffed. “Yeah. You’ve made that really clear, you coward.” Then he turned on his heel and ran.

Bruce sighed and rubbed his face wearily. “Nightwing, could you…?”

“Go after him?” Damian finished when Bruce wouldn’t.

“Yeah. Sure.”

Damian shook his head as they heard Stephanie plain as day in their ears say: “Jeez, B, get over the emotional constipation and relate to someone for a change.” Which Bruce ignored.

“Fine.” Damian agreed before jogging off in the direction of Robin.

“D, you shouldn’t be doing this.”

Damian agreed with Stephanie, but he didn’t respond. Instead he followed the telltale sounds of Jason’s breathing through the comms and the yellow tail of his cape. Wait a second… Damian stopped jogging and listened. That… moron. That moron! Jason has muted his comms! Damian took out his tracker-receiver. Unbeknownst to almost anyone he knew, besides his father and probably Alfred, Damian had placed a tracker in the Robin suits. Just in case.

Damian found him on the roof of a condemned building not far from where the boy had first met Batman. At the time Damian would have found the story amusing, but he had been preoccupied by yelling at his father for allowing another innocent child to be put in harm’s way. Damian didn’t speak, just took the box of cigarettes from Jason’s hands and tossed them over the side of the building. Jason didn’t even resist, just took an angry drag on the one that burned away in his hands.

“Of course, he sent you.” Jason mumbled.

“Stop poisoning yourself.”

“Because smoking is the only health risk of mine.” Jason snorted. “Can’t even deal with someone angry at him, no wonder everyone stays away from Gotham.”

“That has less to do with his incompatibility with others and more to do with his overbearing nature.”

“Overbearing? Really? Wonder when I start to deserve ‘overbearing’.”

Damian frowned. “You know he cares, right?”

“Uh huh. Caring, that’s it.” Jason sighed. “It’s not that I’m ungrateful or anything. You’re all great and stuff,”

“No.” Damian said. “I know he is emotionally distant, but-”

“And don’t you say that this is about Tim.” Damian snapped his mouth closed immediately. “Look I get it. You’re all still sore about it, I understand that, I do. But with him it’s like no one will ever take Tim’s place and god forbid anyone tries to take up his mantle. To honor him.”

“That’s why you’re doing this? To honor Timothy?”

“It’s his anniversary around now. That’s why B’s extra cranky.” Jason mumbled, extinguishing his cigarette beneath his boot.

“Three days.”

Jason scowled. “Sometimes I wish he never died.”

“You aren’t the only one.”

“Sometimes I wish he never existed.”

He wasn’t the only one who had ever wished that either. Damian didn’t speak.

“Aren’t you supposed to calm me down and tell me everything will be alright? That Batman is right for grounding me, but I am right for defending the family’s honor?” The words were spiteful.

“No. I don’t do that.”

“Of course you don’t. No one in this fucking family does. ‘Cept Steph.”

“Is that what you’re angry about? That we don’t hold your hand?” Damian snapped.

“No! I’m angry because-…” Jason growled before trying again. “I’m angry because…”

“Can’t express your emotions?” Damian asked with a raised eyebrow. “Welcome to the family.”

Jason didn’t look at Damian.

“Uhh, guys? Sorry to interrupt but looks like there’s a crime in process, Red Hood is there.” Steph called from the other ends of the comms.

“Where?” Batman asked through the comms.

“March and Main.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Forget it, Robin and I’ll do it. We’re closer.” Damian said. Jason nodded in agreement and the two of them took off.

“Alright.” Bruce said softly through the comms. Then, as an afterthought: “Be careful.”

They arrived at the scene in the middle of a battle. The Red Hood was ducking under Harley Quinn’s mallet, her gang of cronies unconscious and restrained. Jason began to lunge into the fight but Damian stopped him. “Let’s see what the Red Hood’s got.”

“B told you about him, huh?” Jason asked, arms crossed as he watched Harley hit the Hood square on the mask, the man flying backward. Damian nodded.

Hood stood up and tensed, preparing to attack. “YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS HARLEY!” He shouted. That was… unexpected. Harley laughed and lunged. The Red Hood dodged, fists clenched. “Harley! Please! He’s using you!”

“My Puddin’ loves me more than anyone ever could!”

“You said you weren’t going to go back to him! You said-“

“And they call me crazy!” Harley laughed, heaving her mallet over her shoulder. “I’d never say that about my Puddin’!”

“Harley! Please! Think about Ivy!”

“Red’s fine with it! If she had a problem she’d tell me!” The psychotic doctor roared, mallet once again aimed at the Red Hood’s head. Red Hood ducked and slammed Harley against a building, hand around her throat. She struggled to raise her mallet and hit him again but he batted the weapon away simply.

“If you’re so close then tell me where he is! Tell me what he’s planning!” Huh. Why would Hood care what Joker was planning?

“I ain’t never gonna betray my Puddin’ for a shlump like you!”

“Harley…”

Jason leapt forward, dodging Damian’s attempts to keep him from the fight. “Let her go!” He shouted, his body seemed to shake with righteous fury. The Red Hood turned, looking first at Robin then at Nightwing. He dropped Harley and the woman scrambled for her weapon.

Red Hood stared at Damian for an uncomfortable amount of time, eyes behind the red mask locked. Harley grabbed hold of her weapon and let out a deathly war cry, but the Red Hood dropped a smoke bomb and Harley went right through it, confused by the fact that she hadn’t hit her target. By the time the smoke dissipated, the Red Hood was gone.

“Why did you do that?” Damian asked Jason.

Robin scowled. “He was going to kill her!”

“You don’t know that! We could have gotten more information about him!”

“You don’t know that!”

Damian groaned. “~tt~, Fine. Go arrest Harley.”

Jason continued to scowl at Nightwing but did what he was told. Once in custody Harley was a lot less talkative than she had been with the Red Hood, so there was no information to be gotten there. Not even by Batman. The four vigilantes left the GCPD and Jason and Cassandra were sent home for bed.

Bruce and Damian turned off their comms as they did one last sweep of Gotham. The older Wayne’s silence was more telling about his thoughts than him talking would have been. “You’re worried about Robin.” Damian stated.

Bruce didn’t look at his son. “He’s out of control.”

“No, he isn’t. Not yet.”

“Nightwing…”

“He isn’t. Isn’t that what people used to say about me? That I was out of control?”

“They were right.”

“But I still turned out fine. Father, do not take Robin away from him. Don’t. I do not think he could handle it.”

“Then what do you suggest? Because I’m at the end of my rope.”

Damian fiddled with his hands. “He’s lonely, Father.”

“I know.”

Damian couldn’t believe he was saying this. “I could always…”

“You could always…?”

“I hear there’s a new Speedy on the Superhero-ing block.”

Batman looked at him for a second before replying. “Oh.”

“They aren’t that far apart age-wise.” There was a silence. “Flamebird suggested it.”

“Have you taken him to the Tower yet?”

“No.”

Another pause. “Still not talking?”

“I don’t know how they’ll react.”

Batman nodded. “Not yet. We need to talk this over.”

“I knew you’d say that.”

“Brief me on Hood.”

“Trained. He’s looking for the Joker, trying to figure out what he’s planning.”

“Let me know how that goes.” Bruce said cynically.

“He was trying to talk Quinzel down. He mentioned Isley.”

“By name or-“

“As Ivy.”

Bruce nodded, a frown appearing. “What?” Damian asked. “What is it?”

“How long are you staying in Gotham?”

“Depends. Any Wayne Enterprises emergencies in the near future?”

“I’m sure Alfred can arrange something.”

“Father.” Ra’s looked up to his daughter walking in. She held a newspaper between her hands and she handed it to him. Ra’s Al Ghul read the Gazette’s latest headline.

“I see. Talia, gather the team. It’s time we brought the Little Detective home.”