Chapter Text
He was counting the money from his fight with King Snake as he walked into the café. That’s why he didn’t notice. That’s why he didn’t see.
That’s what he told himself.
But after he walked in the door, he found himself freezing as he looked up.
No.
He’d been so careful, so deliberate. He didn’t leave any traces. He knew he didn’t. There was no way they could find him.
And of course, he couldn’t even back out now. Couldn’t sneak back out of the restaurant, back into the darkness. Because Timothy Drake was already lowering his cup of tea and raising his head to look at him.
They stared at each other for a second. Two. Three. Four. Five. Faces blank, mouths shut.
Then Tim smiled, turned towards the café’s counter and waved. The barista nodded and started on a drink.
Nope. No turning back now.
“How did you find me?” Damian demanded as he stomped forward. Tim motioned to the empty, waiting, chair across from him. A glass of water was already there, as was an empty plate.
Tim shrugged. “Wasn’t that hard.”
“Liar.” Damian spat. “I covered my tracks. I made sure-”
“You made sure Bruce couldn’t find you.” Tim countered, pulling his napkin onto his lap. “And I am not Bruce.”
“…Oracle is smarter than you.” Damian tried.
“Absolutely.” Tim took another sip of his tea. “But I know you better.”
“You don’t know me at all.” Damian crossed his arms. He nodded a thanks to the waiter as he brought Damian’s drink, and a basket of bread. It was tea, like Tim’s, and he could see two sugar cubes dissolving in the bottom.
…His preferred preparation.
He never told Tim how he liked his tea. He never told Tim he liked tea at all.
He glanced up to the elder. Tim smiled behind his own cup and raised his eyebrows. See?
Damian huffed, taking the drink. “What do you want?”
“To find you. Duh.”
“To what, mock me? Remind me of my failures? Rub it in my face that once again you prove you’re better than me?” Damian listed. But as he spoke, Tim’s amused face fell back into stoic, blank.
“No. I wouldn’t do that in the first place. Not…” He lowered his cup once more, stared into the liquid. “Not now, anyway.”
Damian narrowed his eyes, gaze bouncing around Tim’s face, trying to read it. Trying to figure his predecessor out.
“Really?” Damian drawled in disbelief. “So, you’re not here to gloat about how Father gave you Robin back?”
Damian was surprised to see Tim’s face darken, just a little. “I didn’t want it back. He forced it on me in a weird grief-fueled crusade after you disappeared.” Tim glanced up. “A lot’s happened since you left.”
“I’ve been back since I renounced Robin. All this tracking me and you didn’t know that?”
“No, I mean, even since then.” Tim sighed. “…Did you know Dick had regained his memories before you helped save him and the family?”
Damian pursed his lips, stared at the basket of bread. “…No.”
“…How are you feeling about that?” Tim asked softly.
“I don’t need your pathetic brand of therapy, Drake.” Damian snapped.
“I’m not trying to play therapist, I’m just trying to make sure my little brother is okay.” Tim shot back just as harshly. “Especially since he’s running off to some secret tournament that he could die in.”
Tim’s mouth clamped shut then, and Damian watched him. “…How did you know about that?”
“That’s not important, here, okay, I just-”
“It is to me.” Damian countered. “Tell me or I’m leaving.”
Tim glowered back at him. “I’ll follow you.”
“Not if I break your leg.”
“Why do you…!” Tim cut himself off in a sigh, slumped back in his chair. “I got word Talia was in town, followed her tracks. Saw the security footage from her apartment when you went and met her. Heard about that League of Lazarus thing and looked into it.”
“How did you look into it?” Damian asked. “Even I didn’t know about it. And if Mother wasn’t forthcoming with me, I can’t see her being a source of information for you.”
Now it was Tim’s turn to cross his arms and look away.
Damian studied him for a moment, then let his eyes go wide. “…You didn’t.”
“Look, I said it didn’t matter-”
“You did not contact Grandfather for information.” Damian practically begged. “Drake!”
“You know as well as I do he’ll give me anything I want if I’m the one to reach out to him.” Tim reassured quickly. “And sorry if my brother’s safety is a good reason for me to contact an enemy!”
Damian glared at him for a moment before looking at the clean white plate. “…Stop calling me your brother.”
“Oh, for god’s sake, Damian-”
“Because after what I’ve done, I don’t deserve the title.”
Tim paused then, stared right back. Sighed and leaned forward to grab his tea again.
“What happened wasn’t your fault.” Tim whispered. “Definitely not Dick, not Alfred…especially not Alfred…I know you think it is, and trust me, I get that. I felt the same back when my dad died. Bruce.” A moment. “…You.”
Damian glanced up at him.
“I get that you think it was. Because you were there, because you’re supposed to be a hero, that’s what the world thinks you are, but…It’s not, Damian. It never was. You’re just a kid. A kid in a shitty, traumatic situation.” Tim hesitated, and Damian watched as he swallowed a lump in his throat. “And we just want you to come home.”
“Why?” Damian asked quietly. “I’ll do nothing but hurt all of you.”
“Can I make a counterpoint to that?” Tim asked. “What do you think you’re doing to us now? Disappearing? We don’t know how you are, or if you’re even alive. Don’t you think that’s hurting us too?”
“…It shouldn’t.”
“Well. It does.” Tim sniffed. “That’s why I’m here. That’s part of why Babs became Oracle again. That’s why Dick wants to use the fortune Alfred left him to find you.”
“Forget about me.” Damian shook his head. “You’ll all be better off. Grayson especially.”
“A matter of personal opinion. An opinion I highly disagree with.” Tim shrugged. “And just because Dick, arguably, loves you the most, therefore is the most heartbroken with you not there, doesn’t mean he’ll be better off if you just…vanish from his life like you weren’t ever there in the first place.”
“He thrived without any memories of me as the cab driver, so we have proof that he would be.” Damian explained. “Besides. Time heals all wounds. Or whatever. You’ll all forget about me if you give yourself the chance to.”
“And I think you dying is proof that we won’t, and can’t.” Tim leaned forward more, reaching for Damian’s hand. Damian allowed him to take it. “Which is why I’m here.”
“I’m not going back to Gotham, Drake. I can’t.” Damian murmured, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I’m not…I can’t be there. Right now.”
“I know. I know I said we want you home, but I never said I was taking you back. I told you I’m out here to find you.”
“Well. Congratulations.” Damian said bitterly. “You did.”
Tim smiled. “Great.” He squeezed Damian’s hand and released it. “So, where’s this island? For the tournament?”
Damian furrowed his brows. “What?”
“I’m not taking you home. I promise.” Tim let his grin widen, become just a little too shit-eating. “But that doesn’t mean I’m leaving you.”
“…You’re not serious.”
“My goal was to find you. And not lose you again. The only way to do that is to not leave you, in my deductions.” Tim winked. “Besides, you were right – this Lazarus Tournament sounds interesting. And concerning. You’re gonna need backup. More than the folks we know who are gonna be there already, anyway.”
“…How do you know who’s in the tournament?” Damian asked slowly. Tim just pursed his lips, blinked, and grinned. Damian sighed. “After this tournament, I’m making sure my grandfather never contacts you again.”
“Hey, sometimes it’s nice having a super-villain obsessed with you.” Tim shrugged. “Helped me get you back, after all.”
“All the more reason I’ll have to kill him.”
Tim laughed at that, took a piece of bread for himself. “…You okay with me tagging along?”
Damian sipped his tea. “Not in the slightest.”
“Good.” Tim glanced at his watch. “About an hour until your boat arrives. That’s enough time for you to rest a little while we figure out an outline of a plan to take out this League of Lazarus.”
At that, Tim turned, digging in the backpack he had hanging off his chair. Damian watched him as he pulled out papers and notebooks, dropping them on the table between them.
And he didn’t want it. Didn’t deserve it. His family deserved better. Drake deserved better. Drake had better things to do than chase him, a failure, across the world, and hardly for either of their own sakes. All for the sake of their family. Because Tim loved them. Because Damian loved them. Because Tim loved Damian too.
“…Drake?” Damian whispered. Tim glanced up. “…Thank you for finding me.”
Tim blinked, and let his face drop into a smile. “Any time, little brother.”