Chapter Text
Aisha found Tim in the same sitting room from the night before. He was slumped over a computer, typing away at something. He didn’t look up when she sat across from him. Just like Tecna when she was doing computer things. She cleared her throat. He held up a finger to tell her to wait. Yeah, exactly like Tecna.
She studied the room. It was nice, but understated. The entire manor was like a library.
It was quiet like a library too.
There were only five sets of footfalls on the polished floors, but at least twice as many people were supposed to be there. They all moved like assassins in the dark. It wasn’t just Damian and Cassandra.
(Why had they been spying on them? Why did she know all their faces long before the gala?)
Those same faces were lined up carefully along the mantle. She’d been counting fireplaces. Counting doors. Counting windows and chandeliers and empty ballrooms. She’d gotten used to counting things, growing up as a tiny princess in a giant, empty castle. But how could such a crowded house still feel so… so…
Still?
There were two faces in the pictures that she didn’t recognize. One she assumed was Bruce Wayne. When she asked the butler last night, he said he was away on business (which didn’t make much sense when Tim was the guy running the business?). An empty face, then. The other was a kid, probably older than he looked. In the whole house, he was only in the group pictures. Like they’d tried to hide him.
An empty future.
Aisha stood and went to the frame. It was a picture of the kid, with a young Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne. It looked like it was taken into the backseat of a limousine from the driver’s seat. He was asleep on Bruce’s shoulder, who had his tie undone and was also dozing out the window. Dick was looking at the camera, a finger pressed to his lips. Shhh.
“Did you ever meet Bruce’s other kid?” she asked, and Tim startled out of his work.
“Who, Jason?”
“It’s him in the photo, yeah?”
He sighed and sat back into the armchair. “Jason Todd has been dead for years.”
She set the frame down and sat on the edge of the coffee table. “I know that. Didn’t you ever meet him before that? He was your next-door neighbor, right?”
Tim laughed. “I take it you guys looked up my parents.” Tecna had, but Aisha zoned out. Tecna had been doing nothing but looking stuff up. Eventually they were gonna have to stop searching for answers and start moving. Tim closed the computer and looked into his lap. “I met him once.”
Aisha leaned back on her palms. “And?”
“I was nine. We were dragged along to the same gala. We hung out in the corner and ate too many hors d'oeuvres.”
“And when’s the last time you talked to him?” She didn’t give him time to be confused. Aisha shifted her weight as fast as a shifting tide and held a glowing sphere of morphix in Tim’s face. “I don’t know if you think we’re stupid, Mr. Drake, but personally I think Bloom’s too trusting. So please, tell me which other Jason you could’ve been talking about this morning.”
Damian had come to his own conclusions about the fate of their secret identities in the face of the fairies. He knew the way Bloom kept looking at him. He knew the hushed and worried tones the girls tried to hide when he passed by. He knew it was only a matter of time before they got desperate and they’d have two choices: admit the ruse, or harm them.
He knew his plan, which is why he dropped what hints he could to Todd and Stephanie so that he could get Drake to think the reveal was his idea.
The mirror business was less helpful than the fairies wanted it to be. They saw the inside of the Batcave, that was true. They saw Signal standing guard over Musa and talking to an unseen other party in the cell next to hers. No one in the vision said anything incriminating, and aside from Tecna’s pensive finger at her lips, no one reacted with anything other than relief to see their friend unharmed.
But he suspected they were planning a heist. It would be his first instinct as well. Their primary priority was getting home, but there was clearly no chance of them leaving an ally behind.
His main concern was the inevitable rage when he admitted to being complicit in her capture and detainment.
So he started with Flora and Bloom. The least volatile of the group, followed by the one who was the most specific in her existing knowledge.
“Bloom,” he started, entering the library without pretense, “I want to know more about your truth detection ability.”
“Hello Damian,” Flora said, looking up from one of Father’s books on tropical botanicals.
“Hello. Bloom?”
She was more startled by his sudden entry, but quickly recovered. She gave a nervous laugh. “Um... How do I explain it?”
“Oh! I can help!” Flora rose from her seat and went to the bay window, where Alfred kept several potted plants. “It’s like this, Damian,” and she waved a hand over the leaves. They began to swell, as if recently beset by drought and absorbing nutrients again. “I can use my magic to speak to these plants. They’re very well taken care of. They… oh!” She laughed a little. “They like when you play your violin in the other room. They can hear it through the walls.”
Unsettling, but Damian didn’t interrupt.
“Sort of like how I can do that,” Flora continued, “Bloom’s magic is the magic of life. She can speak to people’s hearts.”
Even more unsettling. “Is plant life distinct from other life?” he asked.
Flora kneeled down next to the large monstera and began petting its leaves. It leaned into it the way a cat would. “Nature is beautiful and all around us, but…”
“But the Dragon Fire is the life of creation,” Bloom said. “It’s breath and creativity. It keeps going when nothing else does.”
“So, willpower?” If the primary driving force of the magic universe ultimately boiled down to a Green Lantern ring…
Both girls giggled. “Sure,” Flora said, “that’s one word for it.”
“It’s not a bad word for it,” Bloom admitted. “I’m definitely stubborn.” She walked up to him and held her hand about four inches from the center of his chest. “I can’t actually tell if someone’s lying in the moment, but I can see auras. If someone’s a truly bad or dishonest person, their aura will give them away.”
“It must be hard to build social connections. My understanding is that many people lie to make themselves more appealing.” Now that he knew Bloom had her hand against something akin to his soul, Damian had to fight the urge to spring back.
She laughed again. “It actually only works on humans.” She threw up her hands into a shrug (good, not touching his soul anymore). “I really have no idea why.”
He chewed on his response for a moment, then picked an angle. “So what does mine look like?”
Bloom looked around him, rather than at him. “It’s a bright, deep red, but not like a warning. It’s passionate and… I know you’re young Damian, but your aura tells me that you know what you’re doing.”
“You’re confident,” Flora added.
He nodded. “At the gala you said I looked like Robin. Is his aura the same?”
Bloom bit her lip. “I only saw it once, but…”
Flora stood. “Are you trying to say…?”
Damian stood his ground as Bloom closed her eyes and finished her statement. “It was identical. I’ve never seen that before.” She opened her eyes and cast a look at her friend. “Damian, are you Robin?”
Before he could answer, he smelled sea brine and both fairies flinched. With another furtive glance, they both dashed out of the library without a second's hesitation. Dramatic, but Damian followed.
The scene in the foyer was hardly worth the interruption. Drake was gagged and had a blade pointed at his throat, but that was a weekly occurrence. Aisha clutched the magic mirror in one hand, and with the other levitated the glowing pink weapon. She had her wings on, and hovered in the center of the room. Her eyes were glazed over with more pink energy.
“Aisha!” Bloom said. “What’s wrong? What did you see?”
“He stole it,” she said, glaring daggers at Timothy (curse his phrasing, more knives materialized with the thought). “Last night, I saw him take it right off Stella’s hand.”
Flora stepped forward. “Okay, okay. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”
“Jason Todd is alive. And you want to know what I saw in the mirror?” Aisha’s accusing finger turned to Damian. Magenta magic swirled around her like a hurricane. “Why don’t you tell me where he and Musa are, Robin?”