Chapter Text
Damian adored his father, he loved Alfred and Grayson, and was passing fond of Todd, Cassandra, Stephanie and Barbra. But despite this, he had been looking forward to spending time alone in the manor. To be allowed to be in the manor on his own felt liberating. Even though father had locked down access to the cave, Damian considered this day to be a milestone of trust for them both. Most other 12 year olds were allowed to stay home without a babysitter, or in his case, a butler. Despite not be allowed to patrol, he was excited at the prospect of having the manor all to himself for the entire evening.
What precipitated this milestone was a charity event at Gotham General for the new cancer wing and adjacent research facility, and Alfred, who was on his way to England to sort out a cousin’s estate. The charity event promised to be hours long, combining drinks, aperitifs, silent and live auctions, followed by music and dancing. The invite said ‘A night of Emotion, featuring Celtic Woman’.
Damian, who had just recovered from a 24 hour flu that had struck in the middle of the night two days ago, had begged off attending. But everyone else including Grayson, was in attendance. Even Todd was present as Red Hood, patrolling the area from above. Todd was also serving as Grayson’s wingman, whatever that meant. The Birds were taking care of the rest of Gotham tonite.
Now it was just him. Alone in the expansive manor left to his own devices. The first two hours he indulged himself by running around the manor pretending to battle imaginary intruders. Really, it was nonsensical of father to think that the manor’s security was infallible. With that thought he drew up drill plans, noting spots of egress and ingress within the expansive manor.
He idled with the thought of eventually uploading his plans onto the batcomputer, but no, these drills must be memorized, with no digital or hard copy available. He would speak with the second eldest, Todd, about this tomorrow. After all his mother had breached security twice that he knew of, and Selina....Well, Catwoman wasn’t league trained, but she was charmed. How else could one explain away the things she was able to do. She once managed to put a silver cross around his neck without him knowing! Why a cross, he’ll never understand. But to this day for some reason he leaves it hanging on his bedroom mirror. Perhaps a reminder that he is not as infallible as he is wont to imagine?
Having worked up an appetite, his tastebuds drummed as he thought of the cucumber sandwich that Alfred had made just for him just before leaving for the airport. One of just many such treats Alfred had prepared to last the boy through the week.
He prepared the table carefully, just as Alfred had thought him. Laying out the table cloth with care, placing a crystal goblet of water to his right. He needn’t silverware this time, so from the credenza he only took out a linen napkin and a small china plate usually reserved for dessert. Alfred wouldn’t mind him using the good chinaware. Sometimes it was nice to do things proper, instead of being pedestrian.
He retrieved a small container from the icebox and walked over to the table. Inside was his favorite, cucumber on marbled rye, with a garden veggie schmear Alfred had managed to reengineer from Damian’s favorite Metropolisian deli. He loved the way Alfred prepared sandwiches, cutting off the crusts just how he like it. Father always complained when Damian asked him to cut off the crusts, stupid Drake said it was wasteful, but Todd didn’t care. Sometimes during patrol he would bring them both panini’s from Allessandro’s, and cut the crusts off with his utility knife just to spite ‘The replacement’.
He’d barely placed his sandwich on his plate when he heard Grayson, Todd and Drake crashing through the garage door into the utility room, and out again through that door into the foyer. Startled Damian made a mental note ‘ingress. Garage door; utility room door, not secure’.
“Damian!” Grayson, demanding to know where he was.
“I’m in the dining room”, he responded, getting up from the table, “why are you back early”.
Before he could make his way to the foyer his 3 elder siblings stumbled into the dining room. Grayson and Todd each having slung an arm of Drake’s over their shoulders, dragging in the younger, because he could barely walk, further into the dining room.
“How did he manage to injure himself at the party?” Damian demanded.
“Oh he’s not injured” Grayson said wryly.
Lifting his arm away from Todd and Grayson, Drake moved further into the dining room on his own.
Stumbling he reached a hand out towards the table slurring, “how’s I s’posed ta know Irishh coffee has wishkey innit...”. His hand fell short. Ffalling face first towards the floor, he turned at the last second, landing on the Venetian tile with a resounding splat on his back instead.
“You let Drake become inebriated!” Accused Damian.
Grayson and Todd, at the same time, “it was his fault!”
“How is this my fault?” Todd complained, “I wasn’t even there!” Grayson just rolled his eyes as if to say, ‘I didn’t mean you’.
“Tt, it does not matter Todd,” snapped Damian, “doubtless father is furious though.”
“Oh, father doesn’t know,” Todd interjected derisively, “he thinks it’s just an act. Civilian identity and all that.
“Anyway,” Grayson, ignoring Jason, continued, “just tell us where you want him and don’t say the floor.”
“In his own room. Grayson, why are you asking?” Suddenly Damian was suspicious.
“Yeah, that’s not happening” Todd said quickly.
“Thhrr thumping me”, Drake whined from the floor. “Istha a coocumber sthanwith”
Damian shot the duo an affronted look, chin out, as if ready to fight.
“Look, little D, it’ll be ok,” Grayson laughed “just call Alfred he’ll tell you what to do”
It was Todd’s turn for the look this time, giving Grayson an incredulous one, and Damian said tersely “I can’t do that he’s on a transatlantic flight.”
“What? No he’s not, he just flew to Cambridge, he should be there already—“
“Oh. My. God” Todd rolled his eyes, and Drake started laughing hysterically.
“Mathathewset! ...aha, haha...!” Drake howled with laughter from his place on the floor.
Giving Drake a look of disdain, Damian raised his voice over the maniacal cackling. “Cambridge, Cambridgeshire England Grayson! And just exactly how much Irish coffee have you had tonight?”
“Look little D—“ but Damian cut him off.
Glaring at Grayson he said “ No! You and Todd cannot just dump him on me like this. Why can’t Stephanie and Cassandra look after him?”
Drake bolted upright. “Shthefhany thoved me intho th waither!” He said angrily, arm outstretched pointing an index finger at the trio.
Then, still in his sitting position, he twisted back towards the table. Placing his hands on the it, he started slowly dragging himself along its length, while Todd smirked, trying not to laugh at him.
“Steph and Cass are too busy shipping over Celtic Woman,” Grayson began before Todd cut him off.
“And we’d tranq him, but B locked down the cave because someone wanted some alone time!”
“Tt, if you’re out of darts, then just take him to the clock tower so Gordon can babysit!”
“D—“ Grayson started again.
“No!” Todd grabbed Damian by the upper arms, looked down as his littlest brother, and said, “we can’t do that because we’re trying to get laid, and we need to get out of here ASAP!”
With a sneer Damian resisted the light hold, but Todd pulled him back. He lifted Damian up about an inch over his own head, and half an arms length away, emphasizing both the elder sibling’s strength and reach, as well as his irritation.
“Desist now Todd!” Yelled Damian, but with his arms pinned to his side there was very little he could do, except palm a small dagger from his pocket,and that made him very furious with his second elder brother. At the same time he was also mad with respect for Todd, though he’d never admit it.
Holding Damian up in the air, the younger’s legs thrashing wildly, trying to connect with Todd’s ribs, he said between clenched teeth, ‘It’s not that hard. There are 3 basic rules. 1. Feed and water a Timbo, but don’t let him eat or drink too much, and 2. make sure you flip the replacement over on his side when he passes out.”
With that Todd set his littlest brother back down, dodged Damian’s sweeping leg kick, and a dagger to his side with a quick hop and a laugh. Thumping Grayson on his back with both hands, the two proceeded to head back towards the garage. Though Grayson had the audacity to wag his index finger towards Damian, mouthing ‘no stabbing or killing your brothers’ as he walked backwards towards the utility door.
“What’s the 3rd rule?” Damian shouted after them.
In unison they both yelled back “Don’t narc him out”.
“Narc him out, whatever does that mean?” He mumbled to himself.
Behind him Damian’s plate crashed to the ground, and he heard Drake say, “Thiss coocumbrr sthanwhith is tho gud!”
“Drake!” Damian rounded on his elder brother and leapt towards the table, snatching up the plastic container that held the rest of his precious sandwiches.
“Oh! For mercy’s sake Drake, show some dignity.” He said. He then walked back to the kitchen to put the container back in the icebox.
Drake, in response “nom, nom,nom,nom...” as he finished the sandwich.
Damian shook his head, resigned. He grabbed a jar of peanut butter and two spoons, then made his way back to the kitchen.
Seeing the peanut butter Drake’s shoulders drooped, head down, he whined, “I sowry. I sssuckk!”.
Utilizing a chair Drake pulled himself up to sit at the table. Damian pushed the goblet of water towards his 3rd eldest brother. Drake picked up the goblet and drank the water in one drought. He took the proffered spoon, and together him and Damian proceeded to take turns spooning out the peanut butter to eat.
After a couple two, or three large tablespoons, Drake spoke again “whathss that?” He reached towards the papers on which Damian had prepared his emergency drills.
“I am not ready to share that yet”, he moved the paperwork to his other side, out of Drake’s reach.
Drake, pointed a finger at Damian, “okay, ‘feth up, liddle bat, you were running around the houth earlier playing roguesth and capess”.
Damian scowled in between spoonfuls of peanut butter. “Tt, did not.”
Drake regarded him thoughtfully, glassy eyes trying to focus, as he moved to rest his chin on his hand, “I almos believe you.”
Damian noted his speech was improving, but he also remembered rule number 1 and took the spoon and jar of peanut butter away from Drake. “For your information, I was playing capes and assassins, league trained to be exact.”
Drake, though still trying to focus, noted in his language usage that league trained also applied to capes,“ intersthing!” He perked up, remembering something his inebriated mind considered parallel. “Have you ever hurd of thelebrity fight club?”
“Drake, I thought we weren’t supposed to speak of it”
Drake sputtered, “no, thath’s fight club fight club. Thelebrity fight clubs on tv”.
Damian frowned. “Please Drake, father would never let us engage in such public spectacle.”
“Iths not real, iths claymation.” It took some effort on Drake’s part to get out that last word.
It was Damian who regarded Drake thoughtfully this time, “Explain.”
“Jon ever thow you Wallace and Gromit?” Damian nodded his head in assent, and Drake continued, “tho like that, bu’ with c’lebrrdies f-fighting eachhothr…,” he grinned, and waited expectantly, starting to feel much better.
Damian was silent, waiting for the penny to drop.
“…and thhink of th’ damage you can infflict on a clay figuure...”
Damian’s brows knitted together, “…and said damage could be repaired quite easily. So, in effect it’s a harmless practice.”
“Exactly!” Tim beamed, slapping his hand down on the table. “Hey can I have ssome ore water?”
“Of course you may.” Damian took the glass, and proceeded into the kitchen.
Returning from the kitchen, Damian continued the conversation, “am I correct in assuming this is the part where we have discourse about who could defeat who?”
“Exactly!”
Sitting down, Damian hummed. This time it was he who rested his chin on his hand. “But, as a Jon would say, cartoon rules apply. Otherwise it would make no sense to include Wonder Woman or Superman in such barbaric pursuits.”
“Yass! Damesth, I’m tho proud of you!” He raised his hand in the air.
Damian grinned proudly returning the gesture, and Drake slapped Damian’s hand with his own.
“Ok, first up-“
“Harley Quinn vs Nightwing!” Damian said excitedly. “If Harley has her baseball bat she’d mop the floor with Grayson.”
Drake grinned, “way to show family loyalty, but alright. Oh hey! My action figures are still here. We can use them.” Drake got up and with Damian following they retreated upstairs.
Once upstairs, in Drake’s old room, suite really, Drake got down on the floor, reaching his arms underneath his bed he pulled out a rather large container. He didn’t get up, instead he shoved the box towards Damian, and rolled over on his side. Propping himself up on his elbow, he opened the container. Damian sat on the floor opposite and watched as Drake dumped out the contents of the box. There were what appeared to be hundreds of action figures now on the floor between them. Some were characters from Star Wars and Star Trek, some he recognized from his collections of video games. It was the hero action figures that caught his eye. The entirety of Gotham’s rogues were represented, as were the entire caped and cowled community. From Batman to Zatanna.
“Drake,” Damian breathed in awe, “why do you have all these?”
“Why not? Most of the superhero one’s were before I came to Iive with Bruce.”
Together, they began sorting the figures, throwing the generic thugs, transformers, stormtroopers, and red shirts back into the box.
“Damian,” Drake began, “can I see what you’ve been working on now?”
Damian paused, considering the request, absently fiddling with a transformer. He did bring his plans upstairs with him. Damian dropped the transformer in the box and picked up his plans, holding them gingerly. His lips twitched as he looked at the bundle of drawing paper, but despite his hesitant anxiety, he leaned over the box and handed the bundle to Drake.
Damian nervously began to sort actions figures again. He had originally wanted to show Todd first, since this was something his second eldest brother had likely done for his own apartment building. He’d never considered showing Drake first.
“Damian,” Drake looked up from reading Damian’s work, after having briefly looked through paperwork. A look of admiration shown on his face. “This is really good!”
“Really? I thought to show Todd first....”
“I think you should show Bruce tomorrow.”
“If you think so.”
“I do.” Drake stifled a yawn and passed the bundle of paper back to Damian who beamed proudly.
“Thanks Drake. That means a lot coming from you.”
A look of disbelief flickered briefly across Drake’s face. Recovering quickly, smiling he said simply, “thanks, and back atcha baby bat.”
Putting the plans aside Damian set about separating the actions figures once more.
“Drake, should we do a tale of the tape? Oh, and since you have a Red Hood figure, I’ve put back the Joker since...well you know.”
When silence greeted him, Damian looked up to find Drake sprawled on his back, softly snoring. Damian shoved the now closed box aside and out of the way. As,he was sliding the selected action figures to one side of the box he saw a robin action figure newer than the others, and picked it up. With a look of wonder Damian turned it over once in his hands. It was his very own figure, green boots and mask and all.
Smiling gently, he looked over at Drake. Remembering rule #2, he scooted over and tugged on Drake’s arm and shoulder until his elder brother was laying safely on his side. After placing a blanket over Drake’s sleeping form, he picked up his bundle of paperwork and his action figure. Making his way out of the bedroom, he placed his action figure on the night stand, and turned off the light before quietly closing the door.