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Another mission meant another day of tucking in late. It was around 3 in the morning that all four brothers trickled into the cave on their motorbikes or in the Batmobile. Tonight was as chatty as it normally was.
Dick was as bubbly as ever as he animated with his hands, “So that was Clayface! Looked as gross close up as he does in the files - who knew he could grow bigger than buildings!”
Jason laughed, “Yep, got as ugly of a mug as he does in the newspapers. Feels great to take that sucker down - hopefully he learned his lesson than to mess with the Gotham sewers!”
Damian activated security protocols for the Batcave before taking off his cowl. He reminded them, “First order of the night, injury check. Grayson and Todd, you do one another. Drake, you and I will do one another.”
Injury checks were an important daily tradition that Bruce passed to all of them - checking for injuries was vital, especially before any damage could fester and get worse. This typically involved undressing from the hero costumes, followed by patting down and visually assessing one another for any small nicks or cuts that could be bigger threats. Bruce used to pat and check all of them individually while he was around; in his absence, Damian was typically the one to do it. Recently though, Damian had been wanting Jason and Dick to test out injury checking each other to get the hang of it while he and Tim did each other or Alfred did them both.
Jason and Dick stripped quickly and Dick went first, having to differentiate a scar from a birthmark or a potential pellet injury. They were getting used to getting familiar with each other’s bodies to ensure that the other stayed injury-free.
Today, Tim told Damian that he’d check him over first - this was the opposite of what usually happened. Damian had a keen, critical eye and typically utilized it well - this meant that he was usually the one patting Tim down first. Damian stayed silent as Tim ran his slender fingers over Damian’s different muscle groups and felt for any injuries. Tim finished quickly - it was clear that Damian had taken a nick or two but he seemed to be overall healthy.
When Damian turned to do Tim’s body check, he asked, “Why aren’t you undressed yet, Drake?”
Tim jumped at the accusation, saying, “Sorry, distracted.” Damian raised an eyebrow. As Tim slowly got down to his boxers, it was clear that some part of him wasn’t feeling good - it was taking him longer than average to undress. Damian wasted no time in putting his hands on Tim’s slender form and feeling around, stopping when he got to Tim’s left shoulder.
Damian purposefully gave the scapula region a push, earning an audible sound of pain from Tim. Damian spoke aloud, “Rotator cuff injury. I’ve told you time and time again, Drake, don’t favor your left shoulder when grappling.”
Tim rolled his eyes and nursed his aching axilla, saying, “Come off it, Dami. I made a mistake, I got injured.”
Damian kept pushing into Tim, saying, “If you knew your tendency, you should have done something to correct it. Rather, you didn’t and you got hurt. If father was here to see this, he would be sorely disappointed to see your reckless behavior.”
Tim nearly growled, “Don’t bring Bruce’s name into this.”
Damian crossed his arms, “In father’s absence, I am the one who makes the calls.”
Tim reminded him, “He trusted my decisions over yours, don’t act like you’re Bruce, Dami.” At this point, Jason and Dick had picked up on the fighting and rushed over to calm the two of them. Damian kept a level head as he spoke with Tim’s voice getting progressively louder.
Tim finally threw in the towel, “I can’t deal with your shit tonight, akhi - I’m out. Get your head out of your ass and learn some fucking empathy.” Tim turned on his heel and walked out of the cave, still undressed and nursing his injury, while Damian turned immediately and went back to the Batcomputer without another word.
Jason and Dick looked at each other - they already knew that these arguments could get ugly, with the two not talking or communicating for a week at a time, something that Gotham did not need. With a silent nod, they separated to talk to their brothers.
Jason chased Tim upstairs, walking over to his bedroom. As he entered Tim’s room without knocking, Tim was dressing himself - a normal sight that typically happened in the cave. Jason noticed the tint of fluorescent green in Tim’s eyes - he was worked up to the point that the Lazarus Pit Madness was starting to push against his carefully crafted mask.
Tim pulled a shirt over his head, letting his non-injured shoulder lead. He asked with a tint of annoyance, “Why are you here, Jason?”
Jason smiled lightly and told him, “Wanted to make sure you weren’t wallowing in self-pity.” After a moment of silence, he admitted, “Nah, I’m making sure you don’t go off the rails.”
Tim pulled the shirt down over his belly, saying, “I managed to keep my fists in check downstairs. Sometimes I’d love to bury my fists in Dami’s face - he’s such a fucking tyrant.”
Jason sighed and talked down Tim’s anger, “Well, Dami had some points, and so did you. Your shoulder’s gonna be fucked up for a few days at least. Meanwhile, I do agree, he can be a wet blanket-”
Tim crossed his arms and approached Jason, getting in his space as he spoke, “I fucking hate when he talks about Bruce like he’s meant to become him. I hate how much he pretends to be a father for us, when Bruce was my childhood hero. Dami will never be Bruce. It makes me so fucking angry when he pretends and pushes his ideals on us.”
Jason sighed, reminding Tim, “Hey, Bruce is alive and okay, we all believe it. Dami’s doing his best, you’re doing your best…it’s alright to get mad at him, but you gotta communicate with him more than just storming off.”
Tim scoffed, “Like he’d listen. In Dami’s mind, he's always right.”
Jason reminded him, “We’re a family, it’s okay to not agree…but Dami will never know how mad you made him if you don’t just talk to him. Sure, you’re in pain, but we are too…we all miss Bruce, we’re trying to keep Gotham safe…we should at least try to do it together.” Tim’s rage slowly looked like it was subsiding, though Jason would have some work to do.
At the same time Jason was working with Tim, Dick walked up to Damian and asked, “ Baro phral ? <Why do you need to be so hard on Tim akh ?>” Dick purposefully asked in Arabic, a language that only the two of them shared in the house, because he knew that Damian would be less evasive upon hearing it.
Damian lifted his head from his hand and looked at his little brother, telling him, “<I am only doing what Father would want me to do. I often have no idea what offends him, I try to be as truthful as I can in order to help him.>”
Dick puffed out his cheeks and asked, “<Do you need to be so harsh? You could tell him nicely, Bruce tried to be nice with us - you have the ability to be kind too, Baro Phral .>”
Damian sighed and admitted, “<Kindness does not come easy to me, Richard. I struggle every day to improve and be a better Batman.>
Dick came closer and climbed onto his lap, “<You just need to apologize. Saying sorry and telling Tim akh the truth would help so much. Please let him know you aren’t angry at him.>”
Damian sighed and messed with Dick’s hair, saying in English, “I do not know if he will hear me out. I’ve acted like this many times before.”
Jason called out as he came down the stairs, “He’ll definitely hear you out, we all will.” Tim followed Jason and approached the Batcomputer.
Damian swiveled in his chair, hesitant to speak. “Drake.”
Tim walked towards him, arms crossed but not as angry as before, “Dami.”
Dick reminded Damian, “Be kind, be honest.”
Damian sighed and apologized, “I am sorry…that I am unable to communicate effectively with you without us fighting. I say what I do in order to be like Father, it's never meant to make you angry.”
Tim frowned and said, “I know it's not, but sometimes you act so much like it's your job to be Bruce - and it's not, your job is to be our brother, not our dad.”
Damian asked, “Then what should I do to make you less angry, Drake?”
Tim dropped his arms, nursing his injured shoulder and said, “Try to be compassionate, alright? You don't need to yell at us, the injuries we get are bad enough. Focus on helping us, lecturing us on safety was Bruce’s job - you're not Bruce, you're our brother.”
Damian hmphed and said, “It's also my job to tell you not to act like a fool on patrol.” Damian waited for Tim to look offended before cracking a smile, “A joke, Drake. Come, let me get a brace for your shoulder injury.” With that, Damian and Tim walked towards the back of the Cave.
Jason and Dick high-fived each other - when they worked together, they were able to stop and start arguments at will.