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She is just a silhouette.
When he opens his eyes, he is greeted by a silhoutte- one with a posture and figure that seems far, far too familiar, and his only thought is-
"Mother." Drake says, with something that sounds suspiciously like the tone he takes with Grandfather, save the faintest traces of affection. "I don't believe I'm dead enough for our reunion, quite yet."
The silhoutte strode forward into the light of the room. She did, in fact, bear a resemblance to Drake, and Damian's apprehension melted as it fully registered that it was not Talia behind this...whatever this was.
It did raise the question, however, of why and how Drake's milk-toast business woman civilian mother had come back from the dead and then proceeded to kidnap- Damian shot a cursory look around- the entire Wayne family, plus Brown.
"T-Timmy?" Grayson groaned from somewhere beside him, "What-"
"The Hell, replacement?" Todd snarled. The woman's eyes cut to Todd sharply, and Drake made a strange keening noise.
"An excellent question. And hopefully one that doesn't take too long- I have a meeting today." Drake nodded, drawing her attention back to him. He was the only one unrestrained, Damian noticed, but he didn't seem to have any intention of escape. Instead he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, and the woman smiled.
Truly, the resemblance was striking. Drake's mother looked almost exactly like Drake, if he was a few inches shorter and a few decades crueler. It was...Uncanny.
"Timothy," she purred, stalking closer. "You've grown, I see. Made a Wayne of yourself- honestly surprised I didn't think of it."
"You were working with an incomplete data set." Drake offered, tone implying either a taunt or a comfort. Damian couldn't tell.
Either way, the woman made a strange hissing noise that could almost be called a laugh.
"Tim?" Father asked, slowly blinking as if he was disorientated. However strange, Damian supposed they were kidnapped as civilians, and were to follow those protocals. "What- is that Janet Drake?" He startled, the perfect image of hapless and rich.
The woman- Janet- snapped her gaze to father, drawing herself back to her full height and circling Father. Even seated, he was a bit taller then her, but she didn't seem the least bit preturbed.
"Bruce Wayne." She nodded. "I don't suppose you have an explanation for this?"
"For- For what?" Father asked, swallowing nervously. "Janet, not that it isn't a miracle to see you, but how-"
"That," She hissed, poking him firmly in the chest. "Is what I'm asking you, Wayne."
The room was silent again, Father's expression twitching strangely. Drake took the shift in focus as a chance to edge towards the door and, with practiced ease, none of the gathered bats looked at him to give his retreat away.
"Timothy." Rang out anyway, without her even looking. Drake groaned and dropped his head into his hands, but obligingly froze in his tracks.
"Worth a shot." he said, turning to face her with an expression chillingly similar to her own, with eyes that skimmed over the rest of them critically. You paralyzed them." He said, with a frankly insulting degree of calm. She didn't bother to respond. "You know, If you wanted to talk to Bruce, you could have called." He sighed.
"Two birds, one stone." She claimed. "Perhaps more then two birds. If I'm here anyway, then I would be remiss to not check in on you and your new..family." She drawled.
Drake rolled his eyes. "You could have called." He insisted, but she made a dismissive noise.
"Perhaps, but it would have been such a complex ordeal. Unless Wayne would have just allowed someone who appeared wearing my face to your exact location with no questions and conveniently rounded up his brood, in which case-"
"Point taken." He cut her off, raising a hand in surrender, and the bats held their breathe in collective surprise.
Drake rarely gave any ground in an argument, and never so quickly. He was more willing to argue with Grandfather, and did so on a semi-regular basis.
"Hm. I would say introductions are in order, then."
"I suppose so." Drake agreed, with no small amount of reluctance, walking over to stand besides her and Father.
"This is Bruce. You know him." He started, simply enough, and waited for her nod before moving down the line. His posture was no less then perfect, and Damian had seen greater shows of emotion from trained assassins.
"This is Dick. My big brother." He said next, standing in front of Grayson. "You...know him?" He asked, suspiciously reluctant, and Damian had to wonder just how much Drake knew about the situation. How much of his unsurprised air was a facade.
If any of it was.
"I do." She nodded, something sharp in her eyes. "You were heartbroken over the circus, and it was entirely unbecoming."
Grayson, face noticeably pale, made a pathetically worried face, and opened his mouth to say something until Drake sent him a warning look and moved down the line.
"This is Jason. he's...." For the first time, Drake hesitated. Todd opened his mouth to fill the silence.
"Generally pissed and substantially homicidal about the situation?" Todd spat, wiggling in his seat. Drake sighed, taking a moment to meet his mother's hard gaze again. "What the fuck, repl-"
"He's my predecessor. It's complicated." Drake cut off with a shrug.
"Family often is." She nodded, almost approvingly.
Todd started cursing again, and went ignored by Drake and his mother, as they moved on again.
"This is Cassandra. My sister." He says easily, frowning. "How the hell did you get her?"
Again, that vague, darkly amused look, and total silence. Drake reluctantly moved on.
"This is Duke. He's new." Drake said, nudging Thomas, the only one still pretending to be asleep.
Next, Brown, who sat up straight and smiled at Drake, something strange and tired and encouraging and entirely unwarranted. For the blink of an eye, Drake almost relaxed in response.
"This is Stephanie, my...Stephanie." He introduced lamely, but with a nod to himself.
"Your Stephanie?" the woman prodded, with a concerning lilt of glee. Drake ignored her question, finally finishing at Damian's chair, and Damian finally understood why no one else had really spoken out much yet.
There was something....wrong with Drake, in the way he was behaving and talking, but his eyes were the same as they always were, and they all but screamed that he had a plan.
Regardless of circumstance, it was always a bad idea to get in the way of one of Drake's plans. Even Damian could admit that.
"This is Damian. My little brother." Drake finished, turning to face his Mother as she approached again.
"So these are the people you've molded yourself for." She sighed, standing beside Drake and looking over them critically. "You've certainly put all you eggs into a single basket, haven't you?"
"There are....a few alternative options." Drake claimed with slightly pursed lips, "But, essentially, yes."
"And you've made a name for yourself. More then one, even." She noted, scorn lacing her voice.
"I have." He says levelly.
They still hadn't looked at each other. It was starting to get a bit creepy.
"So you are satisfied, living like this?" She asked, with the slightest twitch of displeasure.
Quickly, Drake's eyes flashed over each of them, and he nodded. "Enough."
"Are you necessary?" She followed immediately, something dangerous in her tone, and there was the quickest flash of fear in Drake's eyes.
"Enough." He repeated firmly. She scoffed, but didn't say anything.
"I raised you-"
"No you didn't." He cut her off, and a prideful amusement twitched at his lips when the interruption made her pause, and Damian was almost convinced this was some sort of strangely vivid dream. It was all so- so strange.
"I taught you better then that, then." She corrected. "Better then to have a single serviceable plan that you can't even rely on."
"But what a plan it is." Drake sighed, preening a little.
She fell silent, finally turning to look at him, but Drake didn't return the courtesy.
It was a long moment of silence.
"Disgraceful." She finally huffed, shaking her head. Damian couldn't help a small wince- it wasn't his mother, she wasn't even talking to him, but he recognized that tone. Drake had to shoot another sharp look at most of them, to keep them from protesting aloud, but otherwise seemed nonplused.
"Are you quite done then, mother?" He asked, glancing at his watch. "We're a very busy family. I really do have a meeting to get to."
"Yes, a meeting. As CEO of Wayne Enterprises." She scowled. "This isn't what your life was supposed to be at all."
"I'm electing to take that as a compliment." Drake smirked, eyeing the door.
"Disgraceful." She repeated, but Damian didn't think it sounded as heated this time. Her face pulled into a strange mix of annoyed and pleased. "But, admittedly, impressive nonetheless." She admitted, like the words were pulled from her teeth.
"Hm." Drake nodded, glancing at his watch again."When all of this is said and done, Mother." he said, with perfect perfect pleasantness, "The first thing I'm going to do is cremate you."
The claim left the family in varying shades of appalled, but the woman only looked amused.
"I would expect nothing less, Timothy."