Archive of Our Own ^beta

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He just had to be invisible. Well, not him per se, but the real him. The him that everyone tended to forget about or dismiss as a bad day. The him whose smile was a little too brittle and the constantly simmering rage brimming under his skin was always just a little too hot . The him who couldn’t break, the one who couldn’t possibly have any problems because he was the Golden Boy, the one who set the standards . 

He just had to be invisible. He just had to take those parts of him that no one found flattering or savory and shove them deep deep down into the shadows. It was easy, to make those qualities go unnoticed when he was with his family and friends. It was so easy, to take those tethered little strips of his poison, crumble them up, and toss them away until it was like they never existed. 

He was good at being invisible. When he was a child, he was almost second-nature when he went with his parents to the store. “Gypsy.” “Thieves.” “Trash.” “Filth.” “Keep your wallet close.” The whispers would always penetrate him, despite being invisible to any caring eyes. To them, he was nothing more than another piece of the scenery. Something less than human, based on his heritage. 

But being invisible was better than being shunned for things he couldn’t control. He could try to leash up his rage, the snarling scorching thing, but it was better to hide it than anything else. It was better than letting it slip out in little tendrils that leaked too much and caused damage irreparable. It was better than letting out every single little voice in his head that screamed on a good day and were deafening on his worst. 

So, Dick would smile and pretend all the bad in him were invisible to the naked eye. Because it was better to pretend than face reality.

Chapter Text

Bruce just stared down at his children. Jason shifted the wiggling toddler in his arms, trying to look as innocent as can be. He could only look so decent when the toddler was only wearing Red Robin’s cape as a make-shift toga. In Red Robin’s arms was Nightwing’s blue and black suit, crumpled and blood-stained.

“And what,” he began slowly, “happened here?” The large blue eyes and curly black cow-lick were clue enough but Bruce wanted to hear it. He wanted to hear the verbal fuck-up for what it was. His children slacking and endangering themselves in stupid scenarios. 

“Bwuce,” the toddler in Jason’s arms whined loudly. He had a speech impediment! Jason audibly wheezed for air, his eyes bulging. “No being mean!” 

“You tell ‘em, Dickie Bird,” Jason whispered as he bore the brunt of Bruce’s Bat-Glare (patent pending). 

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose while Damian, by his right elbow, continued to just gawk. Tim, ever the favorite of the Birds, had the decency to look guilty. 

“So we encountered a Witch…” He began slowly as Dick continued to wiggle. He smacked his tiny chubby little hands on Jason’s arms, signaling he wanted to be released. Jason looked like he was suffering great pain as he gently bent down to set Dick on the ground. “And she cast some sort of de-aging spell.”

“But I ‘ave all my mem’wies!” Dick explained in a yell as he tittered. His chubby little legs wobbled as he puffed his cheeks out. “I’M SHORT!” He sounded frustratingly adorable as he flailed his arms. 

“Yes you are,” Stephanie whispered to herself, staring down at their oldest brother. She looked up to Jason. “Tell me this spell lasts for weeks. Please tell me this will last for longer than a day.” 

“Nooooo!” Dick all but shrieked as he made his way over to Bruce. Bruce scooped up the toddler and rested him against his hip with practiced ease. The Bats and Birds stared at him.

“What?” Bruce asked as Dick tugged on his cape.

“You just-”

“Mom-handled him!” Duke wheezed out. Alfred came out of the shadows, a toddler’s outfit in hand. It was a simple Batman logo’d T-shirt and a pair of sweats. Folded on top were little bat winged slip-on shoes. 

“Again, sir?” Alfred asked as Dick caught sight of the clothing. He gave an almost hysterical little cackle and clapped his hands together. Damian choked on his breath. 

“So it seems,” Bruce maneuvered the child in his arms, pulling back the cape to let Alfred help him dress. 

“ AGAIN?! ” Almost all of his children hollered. Cass just clapped and held her hands out for Dick. Dick’s nose scrunched up before he made grabbing-motions for her.

“Back during his beginning years as Robin, we had a run in with a mad scientist who wanted to test the effects of deaging on him. It was… interesting.” Bruce passed over his eldest (and wasn’t that weird) to Cass, who made cooing noises to him. 

“‘M not a baby,” Dick tried to scowl, only to break into giggles when Cass blew a raspberry against his cheek. 

“Can we keep him like this?” Jason whispered as he snapped a video of the fucking adorable interaction between his siblings. Tim eyed him weirdly. 

“I’ll contact Zatanna and see if she can give him a look-over,” Bruce exhaled. “For now, just make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. He’s still Dick just...fun sized.” 

“ Fun sized, ” Damian finally spoke up, sounding dazed. “Father… Grayson… He-he-he’s-”

“It’s okay Demon Brat,” Stephabie laid a hand against his shoulder, “you’re still the baby of the group.”

“Yuh-huh!” Dick called as he made grabbing motions for Damian. Damian drew back, alarmed. “Lil D! Don’t go away! I’m weally lonely!” 

“He has a speech impediment,” Tim pointed out. “Huh. I can’t imagine him mixing up ‘w’ and ‘r’.”

“Isn’t it adorable?” Stephanie gushed, phone out. “I’m sending a video of Babs!” 

Damian wavered, hiding further away behind Bruce. His eyes were wide and startled, unable to look away from Dick. The toddler pouted.

“What’s wong?” Dick asked as he pointed to the group. Cass complied and Dick waddle his way up to Damian, who went stiff. “Dami?”

“You’re so...fragile…” Damian gritted out, gesturing slowly towards Dick. “I do not wish to hurt you.”

Dick blinked at him before he laughed, eyes crinkling up and smile wide. Alfred snapped a picture. 

“Damian, there’s no need to wowwy,” Dick explained patiently, as if he were the adult and Damian were the toddler, “I’m still me!”

“Grayson, you can’t even say ‘r’ correctly,” Damian shot back immediately. 

A beat.

Dick’s eyes filled with tears instantaneously and Bruce and Alfred scrambled to grab him as he snapped his head back in a wail.

“Good going Demon!” Jason hollered over the ear-splitting sobs, “you made your big brother cry!”

“Shhh!” Bruce shushed as he cradled Dick to his chest. The man shot Damian a stern glare. “Damian, hold your older brother.”

“Am I the only one who finds this entire thing weird ?” Duke asked as the Bats and Birds tried to soothe the red-faced toddler. Damian shook his head, eyebrows pinched up. Duke exhaled. What the fuck was their family? 

“Again?” Barbara sighed as she wheeled herself into the Manor’s main sitting room. Dick did another tumble, ignoring Damian’s aborted yelp at the flip. 

“Babs!” Dick chirped as he rushed over. “I’m tiny again!”

“Yes you are,” she agreed with a bemused smirk as she hoisted him up into her lap. “Are you giving your brothers heart attacks?”

“Uh-huh,” Dick hummed as he raised a hand, curling his fingers through her red hair. “You’re pwetty.”

“And you are a little shit,” Barbara laughed out. Dick sent her a mischievous smirk. “Don’t act coy with me, Grayson. I know you retained your memories.”

“I was wowth a twy,” he sighed dramatically, sprawling out across her legs. “‘Member Two-Face?”

“Oh my god, he went up against Two-Face while shrunk?” Tim nearly fell out of his chair. “I didn't know about this?!” 

Duke, sprawled out on the floor between a half-destroyed Legos rendition of Gotham, smiled. “Tell us the story!” 

“Well,” Barbara began as she flicked Dick on the ear, “after he got caught in the chaos with that evil scientist, Bruce was adamant about him being grounded. Well Dickie here didn't like that and so he snuck out in a make-shift Robin costume he made out of safety pins and his actual uniform.”

“Oh my god!” Stephanie raised her hands to her face, looking like she wanted to cry. “That sounds so adorable!” Cass nodded from beside her.

Barbara laughed. “It was but Batman and Batgirl nearly had heart attacks when Two-Face just picked him up and said ‘no baby birds under this height allowed’ and then raised his hand to Robin’s actual height.” She tilted her head back to laugh, tears gathering. “He-he put little Robin on a crate and then tried to give Batman a child endangerment trial. Somehow the Riddler and Penguin also caught wind of Dick’s...predicament and came to see the ‘baby bird’.”

“Baaaaabs,” Dick whined into her stomach. “It’s not funny!”

“Yes it is!” Barbara laughed out, wiping at her trickling tears. “By the end of the night, all of Gotham had heard that Robin somehow got shrunk. Batman and I didn't have to worry about them causing destruction or death - they were more interested in talking to Robin!”

“No way!” Tim gawked. “No way!”

“It’s true,” Bruce called from the doorway. He was leaning against it with an exhausted smile. “That night was an absolute nightmare.” 

“I’m pwetty suwe Dent wanted to take me home,” Dick grumbled lowly under his breath. 

“Could you imagine him in a tiny Nightwing onesie?” Jason blurted. The room froze and turned to Dick. He squeaked.

“Damian, help!” 

“It’s not funny,” Dick griped as he leaned against the island, silently thankful the spell wore off after a few hours. Donna continued to wheeze into his shoulder while Wally just slapped the island counter. “Stop laughing.”

“Again!” The two cackled out as Wally looked at the snapped picture of a pouting Baby Nightwing glaring at the camera. “You got turned into a toddler again ! This is, what, the fifth time?! You’re lucky Deathstroke wasn’t around for this one!”

Dick shuddered.

“Please don’t say that,” he whispered in horror, burying his face into his hands. “Oh god, please don’t ever say that.” 

The two just continued to laugh themselves sick. 

Chapter Text

“It's not like I'm claustrophobic or anything or relatively lazy I just don't think that right now is the best time to take a dirt nap. So,” Duke rambled over the comm, “if you could come quickly, that’d be swell.” He tried to keep the panic out of his voice - tried to pretend he wasn’t trembling from more than the ice-cold water pouring down from the broken pipes. 

“I’m trying, Signal,” Batman’s gruff voice answered him. Duke’s heart warmed at the pure sound of worry layering his growl. “Just stay calm and keep your breathing steady.” 

“I-” he coughed “am. I am. I’m - I’m okay. I’m okay-”

“Only speak when you need too,” Robin cut in with a sharp sneer. “Stop being a baby.”

“Robin,” Nightwing’s voice chided from the comm. Duke let his head fall back against the concrete of the building. “Don’t antagonize him! He’s stuck under a toppled building - he’s allowed to panic!”

“Don’t panic,” Red Hood unhelpfully piped up, inserted into their channel. Duke closed his eyes, snapping them back open not a second later. Bad idea. Bad, bad idea. In the pitch blackness, it felt like the building would finish crumbling and swallow him whole. At least with his suit and meta-abilities, he could have some sort of source of light. 

“Better said than done,” he grumbled lowly to himself as he just tried to relax his muscles. Thankfully how the rubble had fallen had left him with a small space to stretch out. He was worried that the slightest shift could cause the foundation and rubble to fall. 

He tried to keep his breathing rhythmic, mentally cataloging any and all injuries. Nothing hurt too badly. His left side hurt - probably a broken rib. His head throbbed something fierce and he couldn’t stop shaking but other than that he was fine. Nothing felt broken, he didn't see any blood leaking from him-

“FUCK!” Duke hissed loudly, the noise in the comm silencing as he whined. “Ah fuck, my leg’s broken.” How hadn’t he noticed this earlier?

“Don’t move,” Batman ordered sternly. “We’re getting you. Just - don’t move.” He sounded uneasy, very unlike Batman, and it made Duke give a weak laugh. 

“Can’t exactly go anywhere,” he wheezed out and gave a whimper as he tried to ignore the sudden flare of white-hot fire crawling up his thigh. “I think it’s my femur.”

“We’re almost there buddy,” Stephanie reassured. Duke stared straight ahead at the debris above him, trying to steady his breathing again. 

He hated his. Here he was, all alone in the remnants of what once was a warehouse. The building had been part of the collateral damage usual for Killer Croc’s rampages but Duke hadn’t expected to get caught in the chaos. 

He felt kind of cut off from the rest of the world. Without his comms, the surroundings were muffled and soft. It was like he was in his own isolated bubble, unpenetrable from the outside dangers and loudness. 

He breathed in. Out. In. Out. 

The rubble shifted above him. His breath stuttered in his chest.

“Hey,” Nightwing greeted from above him as him, Red Robin, and Red Hood heaved a chunk of the building away from Duke. “You ready to get out of this hole?”

Chapter Text

Something thick and wet trickled down his face. It made the flesh along his left side itch and tingle, a heat spreading out the longer he felt the sensation draw on. He raised a hand to wipe at the offending feeling, only to blink as a hand entered his field of vision and slowly lowered his hand back onto his lip.

He blinked again. “‘Wing?” He slurred, his tongue heavy and fuzzy in his mouth. He opened and closed his mouth, feeling his jaw pop out of place for a split second. “Whazzat?”

“Hey there little bird,” Nightwing spoke softly, voice a hushed murmur as he used his free hand (not keeping Tim’s pinned to his thighs) to press a cloth to his face. “Do you know where you are?”

“Nuh-uh,” Tim mumbled. Everything was a bit dark and blurry around the edges. He took a moment  - where was he? When had he gotten there? 

Something thick and wet trickled down his face. His nose crinkled up, fighting against Dick’s hands to wipe it away.

“TT, you’re going to cause more harm than good,” Damian’s voice sounded and Tim’s wrists were pinned tightly to his legs by another pair of hands. Damian entered his line of vision, domino mask making the child’s expression sharp as he frowned. “What’s the last thing you remember, Drake?” 

What did he remember? He - he blinked. He remembered flashes of light, screaming - he remembered coffee! Coffee! He had coffee.

“Cof’ee,” he slurred. Dick continued to wipe at his face while Damian’s eyebrow rose up. He was clearly unimpressed.

“You had coffee this morning,” Dick explained softly. “Do you remember anything else?”

“Why’s my face ‘eel weird?” Tim asked instead. Someone was taking a hammer to his skull - he wondered if the Joker was bashing his brains in. Maybe then he could be like Jason and the second Robin would stop giving him so much shit for existing.

Somewhere in the background, someone made a choking noise.

“You have a very bad concussion,” Dick said in that same soothing tone. “You feel the blood?” He pulled the cloth away and Tim caught sight of how soaked through the fabric was in red.

“Blood?” Tim’s eyes went wide and Damian’s own face twisted at the asymmetrical pupils against robin-blue irises. “Who’s bleeding?”

“You are,” Damian snapped out. Cass made a shushing noise. “You nearly cracked your skull open, you disappointment.”

“Damian,” Bruce’s warning tone sounded from somewhere behind Tim. Damian shrunk down.

“‘S okay, Damian,” Tim tried to reassure. Damian’s teeth gritted. “I’m sleepy.”

“Not yet, Replacement,” Jason spoke as he snapped his fingers in Tim’s face. Tim drew back - where the hell had he come from? “We gotta keep you awake for the stitches.”

“Who’s getting stitches?” His tongue was beginning to work a little better even if his mouth still felt like it was coated in pencil shavings. 

“Yours, dumbass,” Jason huffed. “Honestly, who jumps in front of Bane without backup? I swear-”

“Why do I need stitches?” Tim blinked down at Dick’s hands, which were now wiping at the blood coating his knuckles and split fingers. Huh. He flexed his fingers, ignoring Dick’s little whine, and jolted at the instant sting that raced across his hands. “Ow.”

“Jesus,” Stephanie laughed. “He’s always so funny when concussed!” 

“Be nice,” Bruce warned just as Tim’s eyes grew misty with unshed tears. He sniffled and Jason made a weird aborted cooing noise. 

“I’m not funny,” he choked out. His head hurt, he didn't know where he was or what had happened, and his blood felt sticky . He wanted to go to sleep.

“You can sleep in a bit, Tim, I promise,” Dick soothed and brushed his tears away. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” Tim sniffled more. 

“Leslie’s here!” Tim flinched at Duke’s loud yell and the cave seemed to freeze. “Oh, um, sorry.” He lowered his voice to an almost whisper. 

Tim hunched up and scowled down at his scraped up knees. The fabric around the knee-pads was ruined, the padding busted, and his skin was torn. Just great. 

“Geez,” Leslie mused as she drew closer, “that’s a lot of blood.”

“Who’s bleeding?” Tim looked up, eyes wide in alarm. Damian groaned.