Chapter Text
After Tim had been given a blanket and a mug of something that might have been tea and might have been sedatives, after Jason had finally stopped laughing, after Damian had been forcibly separated from his phone and the video he'd taken—Terry stood by the time platform, waiting for his ride home.
Kuro approached him.
The Silencer—because even out of costume, there was something about Kuro that made you think of him as The Silencer, walked with the kind of quiet that seemed to absorb sound around him.
"Future Batman," Kuro said.
Terry winced. "Please don't call me that."
"Time traveler who brought alarming news about my family."
"...that's fair."
Kuro studied him for a long moment. The surgical mask made it impossible to read his expression, but his dark brown eyes were sharp. Calculating. The eyes of someone who had ended lives and would do it again without hesitation.
"If you're lying," Kuro said softly, "I will find you. In whatever time you're from. And I will make sure you regret it."
"I'm not lying."
"I know." Kuro's head tilted. "That's what concerns me."
The time platform began to hum.
"Keep an eye on him," Terry said. "Not because he's dangerous. Because he's worth keeping an eye on."
Kuro was silent for a moment. Then he reached up and pulled down his surgical mask, just enough to reveal his mouth.
He was smiling.
Not the mischievous smirk of his Silencer mask. A real smile. Small, private, almost gentle.
"Tim Drake is my family now," Kuro said. "Whether he signed adoption papers or not. And I protect my family."
The platform flared with light.
When it faded, Terry McGinnis was gone.
Kuro pulled his mask back up and turned to find Salt standing behind him, the sword back in her teeth, her eyes glowing a satisfied ember orange.
"Come on," he said, taking the sword from her and giving her neck another pat. "Let's go make sure Tim hasn't had a breakdown."
Salt snorted, which in Gravemare language apparently meant he's absolutely having a breakdown, let's go watch.
They found Tim sitting on the floor of the Batcave, still wrapped in his blanket, still holding his mug, staring at nothing.
"Hey," Kuro said, sitting down next to him.
Tim didn't look up. "Hey."
"Sorry about Salt. She gets excited."
"She chased me with a sword for fifteen minutes."
"New personal best for her, actually. Usually she gives up after ten."
Tim finally looked at him. "Is this what having a step-parent is like?"
Kuro considered this. "Probably not. Most step-parents don't have supernatural horses."
"I don't know. My last step-parent tried to kill me."
"...Talia al Ghul doesn't count as a step-parent, Tim."
"She tried to marry my dad. That makes her a step-parent."
"That makes her a villain who married your dad for political reasons, not a step-parent."
Tim was quiet for a moment. Then, quietly: "Am I really going to become the Joker?"
Kuro looked at him. Really looked at him. At the dark circles under his eyes, at the tension in his shoulders, at the way he held his mug like a lifeline.
"No," Kuro said. "Because the Joker is a coward who hides behind laughter and fear. And you're Tim Drake. You solved Batman's identity when you were nine. You saved the world more times than I can count. You're too stubborn to become someone else's story."
Tim's eyes were suspiciously bright. "That's... surprisingly nice of you."
"Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation."
"Your horse chases people with swords."
"My reputation as a terrifying vigilante, not a nice person."
Tim laughed. It was a wet, shaky sound, but it was real.
"Hey, Kuro?"
"Hm?"
"Thanks. For not actually letting her kill me."
Kuro stood up, brushing off his trousers. "Give it time. The night's young."
"I hate this family," Tim muttered, but he was smiling.
"I know." Kuro offered him a hand. "That's why you fit right in."
Tim took the hand and let himself be pulled to his feet.
Salt chose that moment to walk over and shove her massive head against Tim's chest, nearly knocking him over again.
"Why—"
"She likes you," Kuro said, and he sounded almost surprised. "She doesn't do that to people she wants to kill."
"That's... good?"
"It's very good. She wanted to kill me for three months when we first met."
Tim looked at the horse. The horse looked at Tim. Her eyes shifted from ember orange to silver-blue to empty white and back again.
Then she whuffed gently against his hair and stepped back.
"...okay," Tim said slowly. "I guess we're friends now."
Salt made a sound that might have been agreement or might have been I will eat your enemies. With a Gravemare, it was hard to tell.
From across the cave, Bruce watched his husband and his not-son and his husband's terrifying horse have what appeared to be a bonding moment.
"See?" Dick appeared at his elbow, grinning. "I told you inviting him into the family was a good idea."
"Dick, I didn't invite him. He showed up one day and refused to leave."
"Same thing."
Bruce watched as Kuro said something that made Tim laugh—actually laugh, a real laugh, not the hollow one he'd been using since Terry's revelation, and felt something in his chest loosen.
"Maybe," Bruce admitted.
From above, hanging upside down from a rafter like the dramatic gremlin he was, Jason watched the whole scene and grinned.
"Hey, Replacement!" he called down. "If you become the Joker, can I have your room?"
"JASON—"
"I'm kidding! Mostly!"
"You're the worst—"
"You love me!"
"I tolerate you—"
"That's basically the same thing in this family!"
Damian, who had retreated to a corner to edit his video footage, looked up at the chaos and sighed.
"Tt. This is why I prefer animals."
Then he went back to adding dramatic music to the footage of Tim being chased by a sword-wielding horse.
It was, after all, a masterpiece in the making.