Work Text:
Damian folded his arms, the fingers of one hand tapping against his shoulder, before he reached into his jacket for his phone again.
1:42. No new messages. Damian huffed and folded his arms again.
“Hey.”
“Finally,” Damian muttered, half turning to glare the approaching figure. Duke Thomas grinned easily.
“C’mon, man, I’m not that late.”
Damian waved a hand at the playground. “You left me alone,” he hissed, “for half an hour longer than I needed to be with these—these children.”
Thomas made a show of squinting at the four figures that were currently chasing each other around the jungle gym. “Kids, huh? Never thought you’d stoop to babysit—holy crap, wait, no that isn’t--”
“GRAYSON! GET DOWN,” Damian bellowed. The miniscule child pouted down at him as he balanced on the rounded end of a pole that was most definitely not for climbing on, there were entire structures here made for climbing why did the child insist on climbing anything but...
And then there was a little black-clad figure hugging the pole right beneath Grayson like a koala, shoulder-length black hair flapping in the wind. “Cassandra, do not make me come there. Todd, don’t you dare--” the little devil scrambled up Cassandra’s back, and oh god, why were they all so tiny as children, was it healthy, and oh no he sounded like Father now.
Schooling his face into the most disapproving frown he could muster, he stood up.
At least Timothy was staying put.
Staying put, where he stood at the bottom of the flagpole, head tilted up and contemplative look on his face.
“Drake!”
“C’mon up, Timmy, we’ve got room for one more!”
And the little demon was up in a flash, grabbing onto Grayson’s hand at the top.
Damian stalked to the bottom of the flagpole and glared up. “If you do not come down at once, I shall inform Pennyworth of your misbehavior.”
Timothy let out a squeak and slid down the flagpole.
The others stared down at him impassively.
“So?” Jason challenged. “What’s he gonna do?”
Damian took in a deep breath, trying to keep Jason’s...history, in mind. “Most likely, he shall ban you from having any sweets or dessert for the next week.”
Jason pursed his lips, then finally slid down, landing beside Tim and sticking a tongue out at Damian. “You’re mean.” He turned to look at Tim, then grabbed his hand and started dragging him away. “C’mon Timmy, let’s go to the swings.”
“Cassandra. Richard.”
Cassandra looked down at him haughtily. “No.”
Richard shrugged (Damian swore his heart stuttered). “It’s nice up here. I think the view’s worth a week of dessert.”
Damian turned back to the bench where he’d been sitting previously. “Thomas, would you please help me out here—Thomas!”
Duke grinned, shoving the phone he’d been holding up into his pocket before loping over and squinting up.
“Aren’t you guys cold up there?” he called.
“No,” said Cass. Damian was starting to wonder if she’d known any other words the...first time she’d been that age.
“Well,” Duke said. “It’s a good thing it’s not cold, because I was thinking ice cream. Do you guys want ice cream?”
“I thought we were gonna get no sweets for a week,” Dick said.
“That’s if you don’t come down,” Duke reasoned. “If you come down, Damian won’t tell Alfred, and you won’t get in trouble, and we can all go get ice cream right now, bonus. Sounds good, no?”
“Duke,” Damian hissed, but Duke waved a hand at him.
Cass was staring at him suspiciously. Dick glanced at her, then back at Duke. “You promise?”
“Promise.”
Cass nodded approvingly, then slid down, Dick close behind.
Dick bounced on his toes as Cass looked Duke up and down. “Can I get chocolate?”
“Sure thing,” Duke said easily. “Why don’t you guys go get Tim and Jason, then we’ll go, okay?”
“Okay!” Dick beamed, then grabbed Cass’s hand. Duke grinned as he watched the two skip over to the swings, where Tim was standing upright on a swing whilst Jason seemed to be hanging like a sloth from one of the baby swings.
Duke turned, and was met with the full force of Damian Wayne’s imitation bat-glare.
“Don’t give me that look, it got them down, didn’t it?”
“Well, seeing as you have this handled, I shall go assist Father in reversing this situation more quickly.”
Duke reached out to snag the hood of Damian’s jacket. “Nuh-uh. I’m not making the same mistake you did, Bro. You’re gonna stay here and help me with our four younger siblings who are apparently even bigger devils when they’re even younger.”
“Tt.” Damian folded his arms and scowled.
Duke turned, then snorted. “Already distracted.”
Chasing Robins, apparently. Dick climbed up onto a tree stump. “I’m a robin!” he yelled, and promptly jumped off, flipping in the air before landing in a roll and ending on his feet, arms thrown to the sky. “Voila!”
Jason snorted and hopped onto the tree stump. “I’m a robin, too!”
Dick stuck out his tongue. “Copycat.”
“’m not a copycat. I can be a robin if I wanna be a robin.”
“I wanna be a robin,” Tim said.
Jason scowled. “You’re a copycat.”
“How come he’s a copycat and you’re not a copycat?”
Cass watched them all impassively, then let out a long, plaintive meow before leaping onto Tim’s back.
“Hey!” Tim yelped, but then quickly started laughing as the two wrestled over still-yellow grass.
Duke glanced at Damian. The older man looked a little white.
“I do not know how to handle children,” he murmured.
Duke laughed, long and loud. “As if we didn’t know that for the past ten years.”
“You were all teenagers,” Damian snapped. “Or...close. Not...actual children.”
“So you’re terrible with ‘em all,” Duke agreed. “Don’t deny it,” he added, grin widening, as Damian opened his mouth. “Now c’mon, help me round ‘em up. I want a sundae.”