Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tim was having, what some might call, a terrible day. Tuesdays happened to be the bane of his existence. First were the board meetings at Wayne Enterprises. All. Morning. Long. Seven in the morning until noon was spent with pretentious old men who all thought they were smarter than Tim. They all claimed their “experience” vastly outweighed Tim’s and therefore he couldn’t possibly have any valuable input. Tim is always happy to listen to thoughts and ideas that are innovative and helpful. But when you’re talking about charities needing volunteers, no Craig, you cannot in fact just throw money at them and wipe your hands clean. WE strives to help the underprivileged and that means all employees, yes even you Craig, must volunteer at least one hour twice a year. Tim personally didn’t think that was too much to ask.

“Mr. Parks, you have until the end of the week to sign up for a spot or one will be chosen for you. You may speak to Ms. Fox for an updated list of places that are most in need. Thank you everyone. Meeting adjourned.” Tim delivered his closing with an exasperated sigh that would definitely not be winning him any points with his coworkers.

The next reason that Tuesday’s were absolutely unbearable, raged it’s head starting at eleven in the morning. Since Tim didn’t get out of his meetings until noon that meant there was no way to avoid the tuna. That’s right. Tuna Tuesdays. Some unholy God somewhere thought that Tuesdays were the perfect days for tuna sandwiches in the cafeteria. The entire building would smell for the rest of the day. Tim always attempted to stay in his office for peak tuna time, noon to two.

But of course Tim couldn’t stay hidden for long. Somebody always has a problem that only Tim could solve. This would force Tim to leave his lavender scented haven and venture into the wilderness. People would eat their tuna at their desk while complaining to Tim about their problems. Surrounding him with tuna breath until he would be almost ready to puke.

Tim should really start working from home on Tuesdays.

Tuesday's third offense came in the form of Tim staying late to converse with their international partners. Tim, being the ever accommodating CEO that he is, would work until five instead of three. This just made for extra long suffering for Tim.

But the final, and probably most important, reason that Tim despised Tuesdays was having to drive Damian home from school.

See, Damian had to stay late on Tuesdays for chess club. The brat was required to participate in at least one extra curricular at Gotham Academy to move on to the next grade. After many fights with Bruce about the “necessity of these frivolous activities,” and only with Bruce threatening to take away Robin. Damian had to concede and sat down with Bruce to pick the activity that would be the “least waste of his time.” He still complains every day about the lack of challenge that his peers provide but after a year even Damian has finally given up on trying to get out of it.

Now back to the problem. See, Alfred had taken it upon himself to ask Tim to pick Damian up since it’s on his way home and he so happens to be driving by Damian’s school right at the correct time to pick him up. Tim, not being able to come up with a good reason not to, had begrudgingly agreed. Tim would do literally anything (else) for Alfred but he felt like this particular favor was going a bit far.

To say that Tim and Bruce’s spawn didn’t get along would be a gross understatement. They could barely be in the same room together without it resulting in a fist fight. It has almost been two years since Damian had first barreled into Tims life and he was still as insufferable as day one. So he and Damian had come to a mutual agreement to interact as little as possible. Their unspoken arrangement meant that they avoided each other at all costs and when they inevitably had to share the same space, did their best to completely ignore the other.

If the arrangement was ever disrupted by anyone (cough, Dick, cough) due to the delusional notion that Tim and Damian needed to “bond” or whatever. Then all bets were off and Tim hoped they were near some disinfectant considering Damian liked to bite.
So, in conclusion, to say that Tim hated Tuesdays with every fiber of his being, would be completely accurate.

Tim placed his briefcase in the backseat of his beautiful, red Tesla and shrugged his suit coat off to place in the back as well. He maneuvered himself between his car and the one next to it to gain access to the driver's seat. Slipping his tie over his head as he ducked down into his car, he flung it into the backseat and finally took a big deep breath of non tuna scented air. Once he gathered his limited amount of patience left he proceeded to pull out and begin the ten minute drive to GA.

He was about to pull up in front of the school when he saw two students run out into the middle of the road without bothering to look at the traffic.

“Jesus! Fuck!” He honked his horn along with a blue Mercedes coming from the opposite way. Kids these days are absolute idiots. If this was the hope for Gotham’s future then maybe Tim shouldn’t-. No, Tim, random jaywalkers are probably bright young men who just have a lot on their mind. Tim definitely remembers how stressful high school was. Because he definitely went. Definitely Bruce.

Tim drives to the designated pickup location for the middle schoolers and begins the slow ascent to the front of the line of parents waiting to pick up their own children. Luckily Damian had no friends that Tim had to drag him away from. Shocking since Damian was just an absolute delight(ha) to be around. Damian is always quick to find Tim’s Tesla and hastily places himself in the passenger seat.

At one point Tim had tried to force Damian to sit in the back seat. You know, as the law requires since Damian doesn't yet reach the weight or height limit (a fact that Tim loves to remind him about.) But, alas, Tim’s willpower is only so strong and if Damian wants to fly through the window should they be in an accident then that’s his prerogative. Also Dick told him to just “let the brat do whatever he wants because he’s a traumatized child and blah blah blah.” As if any of them aren’t traumatized. But you don’t see Tim breaking the law. Much. Hey at least he’s reached the height, weight, and age requirements to do so.

Damian slips into the car and places his backpack on the floor in front of him. He always sits as though he is ready to spring out of the car at a moment's notice. Back straight, eyes alert, hands folded in his lap loosely enough to grab his things and run as soon as they pull in the drive. Sometimes he doesn’t even wait for Tim to put it in park.

Damian's school outfit is still in the pristine condition it was when he left this morning. Gray slacks freshly pressed, white shirt tucked in, blazer buttoned and perfectly straight. Damian definitely wore the uniform with an ease that none of the rest of them could achieve when theywere each forced to wear it. Dick hated how it limited his movement, Jason complained that he looked too stuffy, and Tim felt like he was at a gala with his parents and tried not to suffocate. But not Damian. His whole essence screamed “spoiled rich kid.” The only indication that there was an actual child in there and not a robot was the slight exhale of relief he gave when Tim finally pulled away from the school. Not unlike Tims own when he got in the car.

“So how was school? You make any friends? Learn anything new?” Tim questioned as he proceeded to navigate Gotham traffic to get home. He doesn’t really know why he tries to engage but he blames it on reflexes from having to socialize at work. He doesn’t actually expect an answer. He always tries to channel his inner Dick Grayson when interacting with Damian. But the demon spawn on the other hand seems to channel his inner bratiness when communicating with…..well anyone really.

“Tt. As if this pathetic excuse for an education institution could provide me with any knowledge that I do not already possess. And I have no need for any friends.” He spat the word “friends” as though it were the most repulsive notion.

“Right. Because who would ever want to enjoy their life by making meaningful connections with their peers. Or attempting to make a connection with someone that you might have something in common with. I guess you just prefer to spend your time with the people who are forced to put up with you. Sorry, my mistake.” Tim replied with all the dry sarcasm he could muster. His eyes stayed firmly on the road. The absolute last thing he needed was to get in an accident with the gremlin in the car. He would never hear the end of it.

“You assume I could possibly have anything in common with those simpletons.” Damian bristled at the notion. “Those fools are only interested in trivial things that will provide them no advantage to their future.” Damian crossed his arms primly and narrowed his eyes out the window.

Tim sighed and resigned himself to spend the next thirty minutes in silence. Not that Tim minded the quiet, but Dick was always pushing him to try harder with Damian and, hey, look he did! Now that the required conversion attempt was complete, Tim turned up his music and pretended not to notice the green eyed glare it got him.

Tim let the autopilot in his mind take over as he started to digest everything that has been added to his plate today. He tried to leave his work at the office. He really did. But unfortunately his brain just isn’t wired that way. Thoughts constantly filtered through his mind at rapid fire pace and once he solved a problem it was almost impossible for him not to fix it immediately. Some might call him “impulsive” or “obsessed,” but Tim really just needed to clear his mind so that there was more storage for other matters.

He absent mindedly flicked on his blinker before turning down the winding road that would eventually lead to Wayne manor. Of course they still had a solid fifteen minute drive through the different manors and acres of land in between until they got home. God forbid any of these rich people could see their neighbors from their front door.

Tim glanced over to the passenger seat to see Damian leaning his head against the window. Glaring at the sky like it had personally offended him. If Tim didn’t know any better he would almost say that the kid was actually somewhat relaxed in Tim’s presence. But Tim did know better so after a moment his eyes shifted back to the road. Up ahead he could just make out four black suvs lined up on the shoulder.

Now normally Tim doesn’t like to jump to conclusions. Actually he tends to leap in a matter of mere seconds with how fast his brain can process information and filter out anything unnecessary. Maybe in a different setting he wouldn’t have paid them much mind but,

A. This is Gotham and nothing could ever just be a coincidence.

B. Tim was no stranger to kidnappings. In fact he was starting to become something of a professional if he does say so himself. Enough to give him a sort of sixth sense about these things.

C. If you had to pick any car for a standard kidnapping, four identical black SUVs fit the bill. I mean, come on, can they be more obvious?

“Drake.” Damian warned, snapping Tim from his thoughts.

While he has been sorting through all this new information he had arrived at the first car in line. All of the cars had brake lights on as if they were just waiting for something. Or someone Tim’s mind ever so helpfully supplied. The car furthest from Tim had already pulled out in front of his Tesla while the other three waited until Tim had passed them before following. As Tim was driving by the last car the driver stuck his hand out of the open window and threw something round and metallic onto the hood of Tim’s car.

It stuck to his car with a thunk and started to buzz loudly. He felt, more than saw, the pulse it sent out and felt his car shut off immediately. Tim pulled hard on the wheel as he and Damian both slammed forward into their seatbelts from the sudden deceleration. Damian, now having confirmed that this was indeed a kidnapping, scrambled to retrieve his phone from his pocket. As Tim’s car rolled off to the shoulder, and the SUVs started to box them in, Damian attempted to open his phone.

“EMP.” He muttered when his phone refused to turn on. Tim snatched his own phone from the center console just to be met with the same dilemma as Damian.

“Panic button?” He offered already knowing the answer. If the EMP took care of their phones it most likely took out the panic buttons. Damian shook his head while trying to hide various knives and lockpicks in his clothes.

“Alfred should notify Bruce when we don’t show up in the next thirty minutes or so. Let’s just hope the trackers aren’t affected.” As paranoid as Bruce was, of course they all had two subdermal trackers each.
Men started to pile out of the cars. Tim counted about ten well built men. All of them had at least a hundred pounds on Tim. All of them had weapons. Most notably the guns facing the car.

Tim slowly put his hands up when a burly man with black crew cut hair opened his door and shoved the gun near his face.

“No funny business.” He clipped in a voice that spoke of years of cigarettes. Tim heard the passenger door open and glanced to check on Damian. Their eyes met briefly before he watched as a bald man wearing a black tshirt, gray camo pants, and black combat boots (cliche much?) reached in with a large hunting knife and cut Damian's seatbelt right off. He grabbed Damians upper arm to lift him out of the car before shoving him to the ground.

“Hey. Don’t hurt him! Get your hands off of him!” Tim shouted as Damian grunted when he landed on his stomach. Tim’s attention was diverted when his personal thug reached a very hairy arm (Tim now dubs him Harry) across Tim to unbuckle his seatbelt. He was clearly invading Tim’s personal space but at least he didn’t damage Tim’s car so he would let it slide this time.

Tim was dragged out, much in the same way as Damian, and carelessly thrown to the ground. Tim let out an obligatory yelp with a “don’t hurt us!” added on for good measure. Another thug, this one with long blond hair tied back in a braid that went down to his shoulders, kneeled down next to Tim. The newly christened “Rapunzel” and the thug formerly known as Harry who is now known as the fat bastard currently trying to crush Tim to death with a well muscled knee to the back, started patting him down and removing whatever they could find. This included his phone, wallet, watch, house keys, and three pens that Tim honestly doesn’t know how he acquired.

Obviously he and Damian couldn’t go all “Red Robin and Robin” on these guys but they could still make things as hard as convincingly possible for these assholes. Tim could already hear from Damian’s posse blurting demands of “hold him down!” “stop squirming you brat!” And an awed mutter about “how many more knives are we gonna find?” Tim just hoped they wouldn’t ask too many questions about that.

Tim himself struggled and “attempted” to throw his kidnappers off of him.

“Get off of me! Let me go!” He certainly didn’t make it easy for them to grab his wrists and zip tie them together behind his back. Harry hauled him up with one hand around his bicep and another in his thick black hair. They were taking the necessary two steps to the closest car when Baldie from Damian’s group cried out.

“Ah! The little shit just bit me!” Tim heard the slap to what he assumed would be Damian’s face and a grunt from the brat himself. As Tim was forced into the SUV and sandwiched between Harry and another thug, name yet to be determined, he couldn’t help but think…… Fucking Tuesdays.

Chapter Text

Damian was having, what one might call, a terrible day. Damian wasn't as childish as to think that just because it was a “Tuesday '' that it inherently had to be bad but this did happen to be the day that he always has to suffer the drive home with Drake at the wheel. After already spending almost all of his increasingly limited patience on the degenerates he was supposed to call “peers,” Damian really deserves a reward for keeping his calm in Drake's annoying presence.

Timothy starts off with some backhanded comments about “making friends” and “acquiring new knowledge.” Knowing full well how hard it is for Damian to socialize with his classmates. Not that he would tell anyone that. But Drake must know. Damian is loath to admit that he does struggle with the ability to integrate himself comfortably into social settings. He can not be blamed for being miles ahead of others his own age. He can’t help that his upbringing did not leave much room for fun or hobbies. Thus Damian acclimated to living his life mostly in solitude and he wasn’t particularly eager to change that.

Drake on the other hand had no qualms with flaunting his vast number of friends in Damian’s face. Damian’s father was always going on about how Damian could be better in this area but failed to provide clear instructions on how to achieve this. Damian wasn’t a mind reader.

When Father and Pennyworth first told Damian that Drake would be escorting him home from school on Tuesdays he vehemently refused. It was bad enough that he had to suffer through chess club but then to further insult him by forcing him to be in a confined space with Drake? He used every tactic he could think of to get out of it, even bringing up the fact that Drake could barely care for himself let alone be responsible for driving Damian home. But, just as with chess club, he lost this battle as well. By now he has accepted his fate and resolved to ignore Drake as much as possible. At least Timothy didn’t always try to fill the silence with mindless chatter, like some people he knew.

They had just turned on to the road that would weave through the manors of Bristol when Damian saw the cars. The hair on his arms stood up as he tried not to tense up too much less Drake notice. His brothers liked to make fun of Damian’s tendency to see danger everywhere. As they passed the line of cars Damian couldn’t help himself though.

“Drake.” He warned. At least Timothy already seemed aware of the threat going by the way his knuckles were white around the wheel. Damian saw the object thrown out the window and braced himself for whatever might come. Still he wasn’t quite ready for the car to suddenly stop. He slammed forward and fumbled his phone that he had been attempting to get out of his pocket. He held down the panic button on his watch but did not feel the confirmation vibration that it went out. When he did finally get a grip on his phone he wasn’t surprised to see the unchanging black screen.

“EMP.” He muttered as the most logical explanation. These kidnappers weren’t amateurs but neither was Damian. Discarding the phone that was now useless he opened his school bag. He began slipping knives and lockpicks into various locations on his person for the inevitable bonds he would have to escape.

“Panic button?” Drake questioned uselessly, always ten steps behind. Damian shook his head not paying any mind to whatever Drake was doing.

“Alfred should notify Bruce when we don’t show up in the next thirty minutes or so. Let’s just hope the trackers aren’t affected.” Damian, already noticing the men coming towards them, began to catalog their kidnappers' various strengths and weaknesses. Unfortunately, the men sent to retrieve them seemed to be prepared. All of them wore different fatigues. Mainly black, gray, or camo pants with black or gray shirts and black combat boots. They seemed to have preassigned roles as they approached the car. Splitting up without talking and sending three men to each side.

The driver's door was opened first with Damians door not far behind. He locked eyes with Tim’s before a bald man with a hunting knife cut his seatbelt and forced him out of the car. He was definitely going to have a bruise from how tight the man was gripping him.

Damian was shoved unceremoniously to the ground and followed by the bald man. He turned over and pushed himself up onto his elbows but the bald man shoved him back down with a hand to his chest. Another man, with more Hispanic features and curly black hair, came up next to them. Both men began to remove any items that they found on Damian. About ninety percent of his knives and lock picks were discovered during the search.

Damian thrashed and wiggled attempting to distract the kidnappers from finding all of his items. The bald man was trying to contain him and eventually pinned his wrists with his hands and let the other thug finish. The bald man sneered down at Damian from above his head with a look that Damian didn’t appreciate. So he did the most sensible thing he could. Turning his head, locating the nearest extremity (his right hand) and crushing it between his teeth.

“Ah!” The man cried out, wrenching his hand away from Damian and cradling it with the opposite hand. “The little shit just bit me!”

The Hispanic man was leaning over Damian near his legs and backhanded him. Damian grunted but rolled with the slap and glared back up at him. Then he reached down to grab Damian by the shoulder and turned him over to zip tie his hands. After pulling them much tighter than he really needed to, he hauled Damian up and dragged him near one of the cars. Damian caught a glimpse of Drake being shoved in a car between two thugs before the door closed and the car sped off.

Damian pushed down the ball of anxiety in his gut at the fact that they were already separating him and Timothy. Not that he needed him but his father would blame Damian should anything happen to Drake. Even if it was by no fault of his own.

He reached the car and was simultaneously pushed in from behind and pulled in by the bald man who must’ve gone through the other side. He struggled to right himself without the use of his hands. The driver had never even turned off the car and was driving off before the door was even closed.

“Safety first.” The bald thug quipped as he reached over Damian to buckle him in. Damian didn’t miss the way that his eyes raked over his small form. His hand lingering longer than strictly necessary near his waist.

“Get your filthy hands off me.” Damian snarled, baring his teeth. He jerked away from the man but there wasn’t really anywhere to go.

The thug dragged his hands across Damian’s abdomen and trailed down to his thigh before letting his hand rest there. He gave Damian a lecherous look before rubbing his hand up and down.

“Why so tense little dude?” The Hispanic man wrapped an arm around Damian’s shoulder. Causing him to tense more. “Just be nice and quiet and I’m sure you’ll be back home in no time.”

The other men in the car laughed while the driver pipped up.

“Yea brat. Listen to Ricky and we’ll drop you off with daddy money bags tomorrow.” He snickered. ‘Ricky’ squeezed his shoulders and settled in.

Damian could see that they were following the other cars which hopefully meant they were taking Drake and himself to the same location. He remained on alert specifically to the bald man since his hand had not left his thigh.

Damian was no child. He was not naive to the various sexual interests of others. He helped take down multiple human trafficking rings. Even before he met his father he was no stranger to this. Ra’s al Ghul made sure that Damian could stand up against almost any form of torture and not break.

He shuddered at the memory and saw the bald man smile. Luckily they didn’t travel far. Perhaps fifteen minutes to an, you guessed it, abandoned warehouse. Could this be any more anticlimactic?

They pulled in through a garage door and Damian noted that the other three cars were already here. The men were all spread out with one standing by the door and closing it behind them. The car pulled into the center of the warehouse and stopped. The men on either side of him opened their doors but Ricky had the better hold to drag Damian out on his side.

Damian looked around and noted that they seemed to have set up this warehouse to fit their needs beforehand. There were two white vans parked near the door and tables with chairs in the corner of the room that Damian was being led to with a hand on the back of his neck. Drake was already there with two thugs on each arm seemingly waiting for Damian. They pulled up to a stop near the group and looked around.

“What do you want from us? Please let us go! My father will pay you whatever you want just please don’t hurt us.” Drake ever the actor looked perfectly timid and scared. But Damian could see through the facade. Damian felt that he struggled to accurately convey those emotions since he was taught from birth never to show them. He preferred to remain silent and let others assume that he was too scared to talk.

“Shut it rich boy. We already know exactly how much daddy will pay us to get you back.” A man with short brown hair and a staggering scar running down from above his left eyebrow to the right side of his chin. Exuding an aura of authority. They clearly know who the leader is. “Alright let’s get moving boys. I want to be out of here in less than ten minutes.”

“Move it you little shits.” Baldie snapped as he pushed Damian towards the tables. He stumbled a step before fighting himself.

“Watch it Marco.” Ricky scolded the bald man and continued to steer Damian with a burning hand on the back of his neck.

Once they approached the table Timothy and Damian’s zip ties were removed and they were both flipped around. Ricky stood behind Damian and grabbed both arms while Marco approached from the front, his hunting knife making a reappearance. He started to cut the buttons on Damian’s blazer and shirt.

“What are you doing?! Stop that!” Timothy yelled as he too was getting the same treatment. But at least the man undressing him had the courtesy to undo buttons instead of ripping his shirt to shreds unlike Damian’s poor school uniform.

The men paid no mind to their discomfort and continued to strip their clothing until they were both in nothing but boxers. Sadly this meant that they found two more knives and another lockpick on Damian. Ricky’s hands had moved from his arms to shoulders when the clothes were removed but they slid around until he was at Damian’s front. The only warning he got was the cruel smile before he was thrust backwards into the table. Ricky holding his shoulders and Marco grabbing his legs to bring them up on the table. The driver from Damian’s car held down one arm and leg on the other side while Ricky held down the others.

The leader approached Damian with a device in his hand. It was small and rectangular. Almost looked like a phone but thicker. There was a button on the side that he pushed and proceeded to wave it over Damian’s body. He had a sinking feeling that he knew what it was.

That feeling was confirmed when he got to the outer part of Damian’s left thigh and the box started squawking. Damian glanced back at Tim. His green eyes connected with Tim’s blue and he noticed the first hints of real fear coming through. These men were proving prepared at every turn.

The unnamed thug on Damian’s left side tightened his hold as Marco rounded the table with his knife. He placed a steadying hand near Damian’s hip and began cutting into his thigh.

Damian hissed and tried to get away but the hands holding him down were strong. Another man wearing gloves carelessly started to dig into Damian’s thigh and he heard a triumphant nose when the man pulled out Damian’s tracker.

Tim had been fighting the whole time.Thrashing to get his limbs free. He yelled and pleaded for them to stop but no one listened. They scanned the rest of Damian’s body and cut out the second tracker in his arm before moving on to Tim. All Damian could think through the pain was “Fucking Tuesdays.”

Chapter Text

Tim was freaking out. When they had put him in the car and immediately driven off he thought for sure that they were taking him and Damian to two separate locations. He attempted to discern the kidnappers' agenda but they all stayed stubbornly silent.

They drive to a warehouse (I know shocking) and pull right in through a garage door. The man on Tim’s right, also known as Bill, pulls Tim out of the car and heads to the corner of the warehouse where they have a few tables and chairs. Thankfully three other cars have now shown up and Tim can see Damian being dragged out. His face has a red mark from where he was hit but he otherwise looked unharmed.

The assumed leader, that Tim thinks he will refer to as Scar (since you know, the giant scar), barks out orders and Tim can feel his anxiety increasing. These thugs know how to run a good op. They were fast and methodical and moving too quickly for Tim to get ahead of them.

He pretended to be scared by pleading for them to be let go but it seemed Mr. Leader was on a time table and had no slot to fit Tim's complaints. He should really factor that in next time.

“Move it you little shits.” Baldie snapped as he pushed Damian towards the tables.

“Watch it Marco.” Curly scolded the bald man and continued to take Damian towards the corner.

After removing their zip ties Harry began to unbutton Tim’s work shirt. Tim froze for a second before trying to push the man's hands away.

“What are you doing?! Stop that!” He yelped. Bill approached and pointed a gun at Tim’s face which was all the convincing he needed to cooperate. He could hear the ripping of Damian’s school uniform and internally cringed for Alfred.

When they were both down to their boxers, Damian’s plain black and Tim’s blue with Superman symbols(superboy as Kon insisted), Tim noticed Baldie giving Damian a look that made his stomach feel queasy. He saw Damian glare at the man and hoped that he wouldn’t have to resort to any drastic measures. They would keep their night lives a secret as best they could but there were some lines that Tim would draw if the need arose.

Damian was forced onto the table and Tim made an aborted move to grab him. He was stopped by a hand around each bicep. He was getting goosebumps all over from the draft in the warehouse and lack of clothing.

Scar came over with what looked to be some type of scanner and Tim’s mouth became dry. He prayed it wasn’t what he thought it was. He winced when the scanner neared Damian’s thigh and wasn’t surprised to hear the squawking sound that it let out.

Damian’s eyes sought out Tim and he saw a sliver of his own growing worry reflected back. These guys were pulling out all the stops. It was one thing to take his phone, that was just kidnapping 101, but the lengths these men were going to hadn’t even been undertaken by Gotham rogues on their nightly counterparts.

Tim struggled and pleaded with them to stop but Marco seemed to take way too much pleasure in cutting Damian’s thigh open. He noted Rapunzel had donned basic blue latex gloves and he internally shuddered when he reached his fingers into Damian’s leg and dug out his tracker.

They were thorough too as they also found the one in his wrist. Tim watched as they brought out some steri strips and applied them sloppily. After patching Damian up all eyes turned to him and he knew what was in store. While they were manhandling him onto the table he saw them reapply Damian's zip ties.

Damian had only let out a slight hiss at the pain and Tim did the same. His trackers were located also in his left wrist but the opposite thigh. Tim almost flipped his shit when they found another tracker between his shoulder and neck towards his back.

“Wow. Daddy sure cares about one kid over the other. How does it feel to be the favorite?” Curly haired man asked. Then his gaze turned to Damian. “Sorry you had to find out this way.” He laughed which also pulled a few snickers from the others.

When they pulled the tracker out Tim grimaced and starting mentally going over his security and added “tell Ra’s that he’s creepy as fuck and Tim is not interested in joining his ninja cult,” to his to do list. Also to add weekly scans to himself to verify that there weren’t any other unknown trackers in his body. He shuddered when he tried to recall when that tracker could’ve been placed.

“Alright boys, move out and meet at rendezvous point B in no less than four hours.” Scar called out over his shoulder as he marched towards the vans. Tim and Damian were herded to the same vehicle this time. Tim let out a slight breath that he didn’t even know he had been holding. He noticed some of the other unnamed men swipe the trackers off the table and put them into a zip lock bag before walking to the adjacent van.

They clearly were planning to drive somewhere away from the boys and leave their trackers somewhere else as a false lead. Tim usually wasn’t one to underestimate his opponents but he kept being surprised at each new step to this plan.

They climbed into the van which Tim noted to be completely empty in the back, seats and all. They all crowded in and sat on the floor. Marco went to the back with Harry across from him. Damian was placed next to Baldie and Tim across. This left Rapunzel on Tim’s other side, who quickly tied Tim’s hands behind his back, and Curly haired man (Tim thinks he heard someone call him Rick) next to Damian. Scar hopped into the passenger seat and a short man with lots of facial tattoos climbed into the driver's seat.

“Buckle up kiddies! It’s going to be a bumpy ride!” Scar laughed along with the other men as the car pulled back out onto the road. There wasn’t enough room for everyone to have their own personal bubble so Tim was forced to endure touching shoulders with the guys on either side. He was staring at Rapunzel’s arms and wondering exactly what his work out regimen is and if he could maybe give Tim some pointers, when they hit a pothole that sent Tim’s head into the car wall none too gently.

A headache was already beginning to form from hitting his head. Or maybe the lack of sleep. Could be the fact that he hasn’t had his six pm coffee. Actually what time is it? Did he miss his seven o’clock coffee too? Tim shook his head and tried to get as comfortable as possible. A fact made distinctly harder when he looked across from him and saw Marco put his hand dangerously high on Damian’s thigh.

“Hey! Get off of him you pervert!” Tim lunged toward Damian but was stalled by an arm thrown across his chest. He saw Damian's eyes widen in surprise at Tim’s outburst. He didn’t even seem to notice the hand on him. “Take your hand off of him!” Tim demanded. He couldn’t believe that this was the turn his day was taking. God he couldn’t let anything happen to Damian.

No one would ever say that Tim was the best older brother but he really did try. Sometimes. Occasionally. Beside the point. Even if he was the world's worst big brother he still wouldn’t let anyone touch Damian in that way. Hadn’t the kid been through enough? Wait. When did he start sympathizing with the demon spawn? He filed that thought away for a different time.

“What? You don’t like me touching your little brother?” Bald and Ugly took that as a challenge to basically pull Damian into his lap and wrap one arm around his waist and lay the other in the same spot on his thigh. He tucked his chin over Damian's shoulder and nosed at his cheek. “I think someone is jealous.” He purred while rubbing his hand in circles over Damian's stomach.

Tim made a distressed whine in his throat that surprised even himself before locking eyes with Damian. He was not expecting what he saw. If he didn’t know any better he would say that Damian almost looked confused? At Tim? There was no trace of fear or apprehension. Maybe some repulsion and anger but nothing like Tim would expect. Oh my gosh. Does Damian know what sex is? Is Tim going to have to explain the birds and the bees while they’re tied up in the back of a van? Tim was starting to hyperventilate.

No. Damian definitely knew what sex was considering their night job. But that didn’t make the feeling in his gut lessen by much.

“Please leave him alone. You can do whatever you want to me but please don’t touch him.” Tim begged. If something was going to happen to one of them it was going to be Tim.

Damian stared at Tim as if he had grown a second head paying no mind to the wandering hands on his body.

“Ha! Sorry kid you're not my type. A little too old for me. But this one.” He carded his hand through Damian's short black hair pulling his head back to rest on the man’s broad chest. Tim could see Damian's Adam apple bob with the strain put on his neck. The man wrapped the other arm over Damian's chest and settled back against the wall. “This one is just my type.”

Rick leaned his arm over and placed it on Damian's thigh as well before rubbing up and down. He smirked over at Tim’s fuming face.

“Don’t worry. As long as you boys behave then we won’t have to hurt you. Much.” He smiled before stilling his hand on Damian, leaning his head back, and closing his eyes.

Tim wondered if this would’ve happened to him on a Wednesday.

Chapter Text

Damian was in shock. Firstly because these men were performing their duties at an unprecedented level. From the initial step to the current moment must have been no longer than twenty three to twenty five minutes. Meaning that Alfred most likely did not even suspect that anything was wrong. When the boys failed to show up at the half hour mark the alarm may still not be raised for quite sometime after that. If he merely assumed that traffic was heavier or Drake’s meetings had run late. 

These guys already had a half hour minimum head start and they were not wasting a single second. Already they were driving to an unknown location with absolutely no way for the others to track them. Damian was no stranger to being on his own, but having to keep track of Drake hindered his abilities. Also the fact that his father refused to let them operate at full capacity when in civilian dress.

Damian internally sighed with relief that they put both boys in the same car so that he could keep watch over the other boy. He was not even remotely surprised however when he was placed between Marco and Ricky. At least this meant that their attention would be kept on Damian and not on Timothy. Drake was a sensitive being and Damian didn’t think he would handle these men well.

Marco immediately started to try and get a rise out of Damian with a hand on his, now bare, thigh. He centered himself and prepared for whatever was to come and resolved to not give these men the satisfaction of witnessing his discomfort. 

“Hey! Get off of him you pervert!” Timothy lunged toward Damian but was stalled by an appendage thrown across his chest from the man with the hairy arms. Damian's eyes widen in surprise at Timothy’s outburst. He wasn’t expecting for Drake to care about some harmless tactics to try and aggravate Damian. He had been through much worse and surely Drake knew that.  “Take your hand off of him!” Drake demanded. Damian again was taken by surprise. Why was Drake so distraught? 

“What? You don’t like me touching your little brother?” Marco took that as a challenge to basically pull Damian into his lap and wrap one arm around his waist and lay the other in the same spot on his thigh. He tucked his chin over Damian’s shoulder and nosed at his cheek. Damian cringed at the feeling of stubble scraping his face and the terrible halitosis he was now subjected to.  “I think someone is jealous.” He purred while rubbing his hand in circles over Damian’s flat stomach.

Drake made a horribly pitiful sound that even he seemed surprised came out. Damian locked eyes with him and tried to decipher what his endgame was. Why was Drake making such a scene? Damian barely even noticed the hands wandering around his body, too caught up trying to figure out why Drake genuinely seemed concerned. 

Drake was a protege of the Bat, surely he had been through torture training? Did he not know that this was just a basic tactic that one would use to distract their victims from thinking about escape? Was Damian going to have to go through preliminary resistance techniques while tied up in the back of a vehicle? No. Timothy must know what was going on. If he didn’t then he was about to be thrown in the deep end. Just like how Damian’s training had been.

He was momentarily thrown back to that same lesson he usually tried to block out. It had started as a basic abduction, nothing Damian had not survived before. He had long stopped trying to figure out if the monthly abductions were legitimate or just the start of a new test from his mother and grandfather. He had been drugged at some point in the quick scuffle that took place in his personal chambers and had awoken in what looked to be a basement dungeon. 

Old grimestone lined the walls with a singular wooden door to Damain’s left. He took stock of his person and found himself restrained to a wooden table. His wrists and ankles each attached to their own leg. Same old song and dance that he had grown accustomed to. 

He had barely opened his eyes before a man entered the room. From that moment on it played out like any normal resistance test would. The interrogator would ask questions that Damian refused to answer. They would use whatever means they had been granted. Waterboarding, breaking bones, electrocution, cutting open flesh, threats of more bodily harm, etc. 

Damian stayed silent through all of it and could tell the interrogator was frustrated. The man had been circling Damian when he noticed there was a change of posture. He loosened up and smiled wickedly. He had placed a hand on Damian’s stomach and began to lift his shirt up revealing more skin before letting his hands roam over Damian’s torso.

Damian had been young at the time and Ra’s always liked to implement tortures first before explaining how to resist them. This way if Damian was ever captured for real then, even if he did not know what was going to occur, he could still dissociate and survive without compromising his grandfather. 

The man had leaned into Damian’s ear whispering words that Damian couldn’t comprehend since he had no reference to draw from. The hands had moved lower before touching Damian in places that no one ever had before. He began to tremble from head to toe when the man had proceeded to undress himself. 

He preferred to not dwell on the rest. 

When it was over and Damian had broken his silence his mother and grandfather had not been pleased. Damian could barely remember the actual punishment for his failure due to blacking out numerous times from pain. 

He was suddenly snapped back to reality by Drake’s pathetic voice. 

“Please leave him alone. You can do whatever you want to me but please don’t touch him.” He begged. Damian stared at Drake as if he had grown a second head. He was flabbergasted by Timothy’s statement. Why would he offer himself up in place of Damian?

“Ha! Sorry kid you're not my type. A little too old for me. But this one.” He carded his hand through Damians short black hair pulling his head back to rest on the man’s broad chest.  Then wrapped his other arm over Damians chest and settled back against the wall. “This one is just my type.”

Ricky leaned his arm over and placed it on Damians thigh as well before rubbing up and down. Damian valiantly tried to not let the men see how uncomfortable he was. His skin was itchy and it became harder to breathe.

“Don’t worry. As long as you boys behave then we won’t have to hurt you. Much.” Ricky smiled before letting his hand rest on Damian, leaning his head back, and closing his eyes. Damian stared at Drake as his face began to resemble the color of a cherry. It looked like he was about to explode before the leader turned back to face them. 

“Marc! Leave the kid alone and stop antagonizing them. Let’s keep this professional. I don’t want this job messed up because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself!” 

Marco huffed but did not remove Damian from his lap. Ricky removed his hand from Damian’s thigh clearly not wanting to cause anymore trouble. The hands on Damian had stopped moving and remained stationary for the rest of the drive. 

The smooth drive gave way to bumps and rumbling indicating that they were now on a gravel road. With no windows in the back of the van though they could not confirm exactly where they were. Damian mostly kept his eyes locked with Drake in case the other boy decided to use his “genius” brain to concoct a way out of this mess. 

Slowing to a stop made all the occupants jostle against each other, as they arrived at their destination. The door was thrown open to reveal, what looked to be, an airstrip with a hanger about twenty feet from the car. The boys shuffled out with their self appointed henchmen and were herded into the hanger. 

Inside it seemed well kept but clearly was not often utilized. There was a small plane near the exit door but the men took their captives to a door located on the other side of the hanger. 

The man with the braid opened the door and shoved Drake inside a small dusty room. Closet would be a more adept description considering, when Damian was thrown inside, there was barely enough room for the both of them. He grunted as he slammed against the back wall and spun around so as not to have hostiles at his back. 

The men smiled cruelly before retreating. Marco reached out and grabbed Damian’s jaw in a harsh grip. He took his thumb and rubbed it across Damian’s bottom lip before sliding his hand down around Damian’s neck. He could see Drake tense out of the corner of his eye. 

“Don’t you worry your pretty head. We’re not done playing just yet.” Marco whispered to the boys. Timothy hissed and began to lunge forward but Marco had already taken a step back and slammed the door in his face. 

Damian slid down to a sitting position and Drake followed him while clearly looking over Damian for any injuries. As if he could not handle himself. It was too hard to see with only the faint light coming through the cracks in the doors so Timothy gave up and sat down next to him. It was impossible to not be touching each other in the cramped closet but Damian took so comfort in the warmth from Drake’s body touching his. 

He laid his head back on the wall ready to wait for backup or escape at the next available opportunity. Of course Drake couldn’t just sit there and had to speak. 

“Oh my God Damian are you ok? Did they hurt you? I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them from touching you. Those guys are disgusting. When they come back just stay behind me and I’ll try to take their attention. Don’t antagonize them. I don’t want you to get hurt!” He sputtered out sounding on the verge of a panic attack 

“Drake cease this terrible performance and silence yourself. I am fine. I have been through the required training of the League. I am perfectly capable of handling myself.” Damian had had enough of Drake’s nonsense. “Do not speak again unless it is to provide us a viable means of escape.”

Damian desperately wished this had occurred on literally any other day where he at least could have been taken alone. 

Chapter Text

Tim was, to put it lightly, horrified. Damian was seemingly unbothered by being basically sexually assualted and also had the nerve to tell Tim off for asking if he was ok?! What the H. E. double hockey sticks kind of bullshit was that?! 

Damian is lucky he has the excuse of being raised by assassins or he would be getting a piece of Tim’s mind. Maybe. 

“Damian. What the fuck are you talking about? You do know what that man wants, don’t you?” Tim sighed. “Look. I will try my best to keep our identities a secret but I’m not gonna let that guy do what he wants to do to you.” Tim truly hoped they wouldn’t be having the talk . 

“Yes Drake I am perfectly aware of what that piece of degenerate filth is insinuating. I will not let you harm fathers legacy just because you are too weak willed to fulfill a job.” He scoffed. Tim could feel him shivering slightly next to him. There was a terrible draft in this tiny closet. 

“Weak willed? Dami, please trust me when I say this. Bruce would never want you to be…. uh….. you know…. raped just to hide our identities. That’s not ok.” Tim was struggling to find the words to convey to Damian the importance and validity of his statement. He really hoped that the kid would understand that his safety came above their vigilante business. 

“Please. It’s nothing that I have not survived before. Grandfather made certain that I was trained in all interrogation tactics and taught to resist them. I am perfectly capable of keeping my cover. And cease with the ridiculous nickname.” Clearly Tim was wrong. So wrong. He didn’t think he could’ve been more wrong. He truly didn’t want to know the answer but he felt the question almost forced out of his own mouth. 

“Are you trying to tell me that Ra’s raped you in some insane attempt, to what, desensitize you to it?!” Tim honestly couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Sure they all knew Ra’s was a piece of shit but this was a whole new level. He felt like his world was being tipped upside down. 

“Tt. Grandfather did no such thing himself. I had tutors and facilitated training sessions which portrayed accurate real life scenarios. It is only a matter of time before you are subjected to a form of torture when you live with the League. Better to have experience beforehand.” Damian stated this like they were talking about an internship at WE or something. Tim felt his jaw hit the floor. 

“Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Oh my God. I don’t even know what to say.” He was talking just to fill the unbearable silence that came with this revelation. He turned towards the demon sp- no. His little brother . This kid who is only twelve years old and has been through so much. Tim has been blinded by his own insecurities to see that Damian is an extremely traumatized child. It’s hard to get past his prickly, self righteous, frankly assholish exterior to see that he’s just a kid. This kid who wholeheartedly thought that being raped was a logical part of training.

He turned to him and put a hand on each shoulder. Damian flinched slightly at the contact but Tim held strong. 

“What are you doing? Don’t touch me.” He sneered but it didn’t hold the same bite that Tim was used to hearing. 

“I’m sorry that happened to you. It never should have. No one, especially a child, should ever have to go through that. I really need you to listen to me. What Ra’s did to you was wrong. I never want you to go through that again.” He wrapped his arms around Damian and hugged him. He laughed a bit wryly at the realization that this was the first time they had ever hugged. Damian’s body was cold but Tim didn’t mind. He just needed to do this. 

Damian clearly had other plans. At first he was probably shocked so he just sat there stiff as a board. Then when he computed what Tim had said of course he couldn’t let his pride be damaged. He tried to push Tim away but Tim wouldn’t let that happen. 

“Get off of me Drake. I’m fine. Stop this useless babbling.” His voice was muffled into Tim’s chest since he had all but smushed his face there. 

Tim was overcome with so many emotions. This whole day has been terrible but the thought of the horrors that Damian had been through seemed to make Tim’s problems appear minuscule in comparison. He never liked to think about Damian’s past, since that would make him start to sympathize with him (and Tim didn’t want to feel bad for the kid that tried to, ya’know MURDER him.) But he couldn’t ignore the glaring traumas the kid had faced. 

He maybe even could forgive Damian for stabbing Tim and throwing him off a dinosaur. Possibly. It really hurt ok? And he had to miss a physics test that he had been studying really hard for all because he was bleeding out in the med bay. Ok deep breath. Moving on. 

“We’re gonna get through this ok? I’m sorry for being a terrible brother. We’ll fix this when we get home.” Tim promised himself to try harder. Be better. 

“There is nothing to fix. What is wrong with you? These dramatics are unnecessary.” Damian still hadn’t settled into the hug but he seemed to have stopped fighting it at least. 

Suddenly the door swung open. Light came in full force, completely blinding the boys for a few seconds. Tim had a promise to keep so he continued to hug Damian and try to protect him from whatever was to come. Only to hear a very familiar mechanical voice. 

“Aww how sweet. Look Big Bird the kids are hugging!” Red Hood stood silhouetted in the door frame, blocking out the light coming in. He bent forward and put his hands on his knees. “Don’t worry you guys. Red Hood is here to save the day! I know this must have been very scary for you but it’s all over now.”

Tim was having trouble focusing from the sudden whiplash of Hood's appearance. He hadn’t even heard any fighting or yelling. Where were the bad guys?

“You found them! Oh thank God!” Nightwing poked his head in the doorway and all but shoved Jason out of the way. “I was so scared. First you didn’t come home, then we found your trackers all covered in blood!” He leaned down and enveloped both boys in a hug. 

“Get off Grayson!” Damian whisper yelled. “Do not act like you know us! Where are the hostiles?” He shoved both Dick and Tim off before standing up and Scanning the outer room for any threats. He brushed off some nonexistent dirt from his knees. “Thank you Nighwing for your help. If you could please drop us off at Wayne Manor my father would be in your debt.” 

Tim had to give it to the gremlin, he had a good poker face. Damian walked out of the room with Tim scrambling up behind him. Looking around the hanger there was no sign of the men that took them. 

“Nice boxers Timbers. Did your boyfriend get them for you?” Hood chuckled at his own joke. Clearly they weren’t worried about being overheard. 

“How the hell did you guys find us so quickly?” Tim questioned while he wrapped his arms across his chest to help abiet the cold. Dick and Damian were already a few feet ahead walking towards the door they originally came in from. 

“Well, you see, it just so happens that the brat was supposed to have a playdate with a certain super’s son. Jonny boy showed up and you guys weren’t home. Naturally being a creepy super powered kid, he listened for Damian and heard some stuff he wished he hadn’t. We finally got him to chill out and he told Alfred what he heard. Boss man of course wanted to follow your trackers but Big Blue showed up and brought them back from where those guys dumped them. Then he listened for you guys and pointed us in the right direction. These idiots were way too easy to lure outside and knock out.” Hood recited all this like it was supposed to be a funny story. 

Tim couldn’t properly think at the moment with too many things happening so he was happy when Jason steered him out the door and all but shoved him into the batmobile. He saw Batman, standing near a pile of unconscious men, give the boys a small nod before Jason closed the door. 

He sighed in relief and let the tension drain from his body. Dick threw a blanket to each boy before climbing into the driver's seat. He helped Damian first to get the blanket around his shoulders which earned him a confused glare but Tim couldn’t help himself. After he settled in he started to replay the events and shuddered at what could’ve happened. 

He looked over to Damian and tried to subtly examine him. The boy was leaning his head against the window, not unlike how he did when Tim was driving home, he seemed…….fine? Tim wasn’t good at reading Damian. He mostly tried to avoid him therefore he wasn’t as familiar with all the little nuances that could help him identify his state of mind. 

Looking closer he noticed a slight frown on his face that was different from his normal scowl. His hands were on his lap folded into fists. His knuckles were white and he seemed more tense than before they were rescued. Tim didn’t know what overcame him but he decided that he needed to try something. 

He reached his hand over and placed it on Damian’s. The boy straightened up suddenly and narrowed his eyes. 

“What?” He snapped. But made no move to dislodge Tim’s hand. 

“You did good. You were very brave. I’m proud of you.” Tim whispered.  Internally he was freaking out. What the hell was he saying? Why was he saying this? The hell spawn is going to kill him for this!

“I’m aware.” Is all Damian replied. He glanced down at Tim’s hand before uncurling his own and softly squeezing Tim’s hand before letting go. 

Tim smiled to himself and settled back on his own side. If he didn’t know any better he would say that Damian looked more relaxed. 

Maybe it wasn’t so bad that this happened today after all. 

Chapter Text

After arriving back at the manor Damian was ambushed by Jonathan before he could even get one foot out of the batmobile. 

“Dames! I was so worried about you! I’m sorry that I listened in on you without asking but I couldn’t help it! Then I freaked out and Dad showed up and then your dad was here and then we found your trackers and-.” He was currently squeezing the life out of Damian whilst frantically trying to spew out his story.

“Kent!” He snapped which prompted Jonathan to let go and stand back. He smiled a bit sheepishly. 

“Sorry I was just worried about you. Are you ok?” He asked while he scanned over Damian’s blanket covered form. 

“I’m adequate. Thank you for the concern but it is unnecessary.” Damian scoffed. “Now if you’ll excuse me I will be taking a shower and dressing myself before we begin our training session.” He proceeded to walk towards the stairs that led up to the manor. 

Superman had been standing by conversing with Dick but he turned towards the boys. 

“Actually Damian, I think I should take Jon home and let you have some time to yourself.” He walked towards Damian and placed a hand on his shoulder. It was met with narrowed eyes and a signature glare. “You’ve had a rough day so we’ll just head home and let you get some rest.”

Damian bristled at the notion. 

“I am perfectly fine. If I can’t function at one hundred percent after a measly kidnapping then I would not be worthy of calling myself Robin. This was a mere inconvenience.” He huffed before continuing to walk up the stairs. 

“Regardless. It’s getting a bit late so we’ll reschedule. Tim? You’ll let us know if you need anything?” Clark gave Tim a hug before returning to his own son's side. 

“Yes sir. But I think we’re good now. Thank you.” Tim replied before following Damian up the stairs. 

Damian got to his room and took a deep breath before heading to the shower. He turned the water as hot as it would go and began to wash away the memory of filthy hands touching him. Finally alone with his own thoughts, he couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened. 

He thought about the look on Drake's face when Damian told him about his training. He thought about the disgust and horror he had seen there. 

But surely there was no reason to be upset by this, right? His grandfather had only wanted to make Damian stronger and never gave him more than he could handle. 

Since coming to stay with father Damian has slowly been unlearning everything he had ever been taught. Things that he was told by father almost always contradicted what he had previously been told. He had terrible whiplash from the drastic changes between here and the league. His father never used pain to punish or teach Damian. In fact, he seemed horrified whenever Damian brought up Grandfather’s training. 

Damian scrubbed his small body until it was raw then stepped out to dry off. He examined himself in the mirror and noticed some ugly bruising starting in his face, upper arms, and stomach. 

Wrapping a towel around his waist he walked out to his room and immediately sensed another presence. He whipped towards his bed but stopped short when he noticed Drake. 

“Tt. What are you doing in here?” He sneered and folded his arms across his chest. Damian was in no mood to converse with Drake anymore. Hadn’t he already filled his quota for the week after this experience?

“I. Uh. Just wanted to check up on you. How are you doing?” Drake stuttered out. He quickly removed himself from the bed as well and took a cautious step towards the door. He began to rub the back of his neck as he continued. “It’s just been an….. interesting day. Ya know?” He finished lamely. 

“Please. This was barely more than a regular Tuesday with the League. Do not concern yourself with my feelings .” Damian emphasized the last word like he was disgusted by it. But Damian wasn’t disgusted. No. He was just…..confused?

Why did Drake seek him out? What was his endgame? Damian understood playing the part in front of their captors but the ordeal was over. What more could he gain by pretending to care?

“Look Dames. I know we don’t have the best relationship-.” Damian’s snort of assent cut him off. 

“Drake. Firstly, I have a name. Use it. Secondly, I don’t know what you are trying to accomplish here but cease this brotherly façade at once. There are no spectators. We may go back to ignoring each other’s existence once again. As it should be. Now please leave.” Damian strides over to his dresser and begins picking out comfortable clothes to change into. 

Timothy stood with his mouth open for a second before setting it in a firm line and stomping over to Damian. He grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around. 

“Get your hands off-“

“No you listen. I’m tired of this shit. I’m tired of the way things are. You and I may not like each other but god dammit we are gonna start loving each other. I’m your big brother and I haven’t been acting like it. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making it seem like I don’t care about you. But I’m telling you now that from this moment on I’m going to try and be better.” Drake heaved his monologue out in one breath then proceeded to wrap his arms around Damian. 

Damian repeated his earlier response to a hug by tensing up. But this time he recovered more quickly. Though instead of fighting it he gave in and wrapped his own arms around his brother. 

“I love you Damian. I don’t think I’ve ever said that before. But I’m gonna work harder to prove it to you. I don’t think I realized how much you’ve been through and I let my own insecurities cloud my judgment. Then I held a grudge for way too long. As long as you promise not to kill me I would very much like to start being your brother.” Drake whispered into Damian's hair. 

Damian huffed and tried to make some space between the two but Timothy wouldn’t allow it. He sighed before quietly responding. 

“I don’t hate you anymore. I haven’t for a while.  I just don’t know how to apologize for everything I’ve done in the past.”’ Drake sighed before squeezing tighter. 

“I forgive you Lil D.” Damian felt a huge weight lifted off his chest at those words. He might’ve cried if that hadn't been beaten out of him years ago. He didn’t know how badly he needed to hear those words until they were said.  Instead he squeezed back slightly before trying to pull away again. 

“Timothy. I would appreciate it if I could get dressed before we discuss anything else.” He mumbled into Drake’s chest. 

“Oh. Right. Yea. No problem.” Timothy sputtered out as he backed away. He headed towards the door but stopped just before walking out. “Wait. Did you just call me by my first name?”

“Tt. Obviously not. You must have misheard. Now leave.” Damian feigned nonchalance but his reddening cheeks told a different story. Tim smiled lopsidedly before closing the door behind him. 

Maybe, riding home with Drake could be something that Damian could look forward to from now on. Maybe, Tuesdays didn’t have to be the worst day of his week. 

A sliver of hope filled Damian’s chest at the thought of being able to start over with Timothy. This time he could learn from the many mistakes of his past and become a real member of the family. Instead of the unwanted burden that had been literally dropped on their doorstep. 

Perhaps there was hope for Damian still. He smiled at the thought and finished putting his clothes on. Drake was waiting outside his door so they walked together side by side down to the dining room.

This time Damian is going to be better. Not that he’ll ever admit he wasn’t perfect in the first place. But he will try harder to be a better brother. 

He looked forward to next Tuesday.