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Tim had to do a double-take when he walked past the training mats. It wasn’t often that he came down in the cave, mid-morning, but he’d forgotten his laptop last night after patrol. Tim had taken it down to pass the time with college-work, as he waited for Dick to return, but he was unsurprised when his brother hadn’t appeared. Dick said he might be delayed. Tim had been aware of the possibility.
Tim didn't think he'd find Damian slashing a holographic dummy.
It was one of Bruce’s latest programs, a holographic entity that could spar with one based on their skill-level, and Damian hadn’t tried it out yet. Tim knew because Damian hadn’t been down here at all lately, unless it was to research, dress up, or talk to someone who was visiting. Damian also hadn’t trained in a good long while—not like this—not like he used to. Tim could recall a time when Damian would take out all of his frustrations on the training mats. Damian could do it for hours if someone didn’t stop him, but that was an event that never occurred anymore.
Damian was happy now.
Tim had seen him change from an angry, violent pup. He was all kinds of different now. He was loyal, compassionate, and—hah—funny. Tim never imagined he’d find Damian funny, but there’d been a few times, here or there, where Damian would make the smartest little quip, and instead of being annoyed, Tim found himself amused.
So.
It went without saying.
Tim was a little concerned right now.
He thought about approaching Damian about the matter, but his little brother was gritting his teeth, in that completely unapproachable way of his, the kind that told him that he shouldn’t be touching Damian with a twenty-foot pole. Instead, he looked over at the weapons bay. Bruce stood there, next to Alfred. They were doing inventory. Alfred was going over a clipboard in his hands, and Bruce surveyed everything with his eyes. How they could be ignoring Damian’s plight was a mystery to him, knowing how protective they could be. Then again, confronting a family member face-to-face was never their way of handling emotional problems. They liked going the roundabout way. Unless something really—really concerned them.
Tim decided to walk towards them because his instincts as a pack-member demanded this situation be solved. He wondered how Bruce could ignore this as an alpha, but maybe it was because he had no direct authority over Damian. Damian might respect him, but he was a part of a completely different pack.
An alpha was only made when a beta was elevated into a point of leadership. Bruce was an alpha only because he had betas to follow him, Barbara, Stephanie, and Tim included. Alfred too. Damian might have been one of their pack members if Bruce hadn’t died, but even before he’d died, it’d been hard integrating Damian into the pack. There’d been too much conflict—too much fighting.
Tim imagined it would have been different at this point of time. Bruce would have eagerly welcomed Damian if he hadn’t been claimed by someone else.
“Is something wrong with Damian?”
Tim’s question had Alfred’s eyes looking upward. Bruce turned his head to glance at him over his shoulder, and this his eyes eventually strayed over to where Damian trained.
“Oh, not to worry Master Tim, he’s only anxious,” Alfred said.
“Anxious?” Tim asked. “What would make him this anxious?
Alfred shared a look with Bruce. It seemed they knew something Tim didn’t.
“Damian’s training speaks for itself,” Alfred began.
Tim furrowed his brows, unappreciative of the lack of a direct answer, but then the roar of an engine interrupted anything else Alfred was going to say. Tim spun and walked over to the railings. He managed to reach them just in time to see Dick shooting through the tunnel, and then braking just in time to park onto the middle platform. Tim felt relief settle in his heart. No more worrying.
“Dick!” Tim shouted out. “It’s about time you came home!”
Dick pulled off his helmet and ran a hand through his messy hair (thank you motorcycle helmet). His cheeky smile made everything feel warmer, even though the cave was sufficiently heated.
Most of the time.
“Sorry about that, got caught up,” he said.
Dick pulled himself off the motorcycle and was slow to take the stairs upwards. He took a leisurely pace, stopping at the top when he spotted Damian. Tim saw Dick’s face light up further, and Tim wondered if he’d feel differently if Damian’s training program hadn’t ended. If he’d seen Damian’s violent swings, would his smile have turned into a frown? Tim believed so.
Tim looked away from Dick to examine his little brother, and for a moment Damian’s whole face seemed like a ray of sunshine. It was amazing how bright and happy he looked, until it fell flat, and he crossed his arms.
“Damian,” Dick voice was like a song as he walked over to his pup. “Is that my little pup?”
Damian resolutely looked away and stood firmly in place.
Tim leaned back against the railing and was internally prepared for trouble. How could Dick not see it? Damian wasn’t in the mood for joviality. Clearly.
Dick closed in and laughed when Damian still refused to look at him.
“Are you mad at me?”
Why did he sound so amused?
Damian refused to respond.
“I’m back in one piece.” Dick shifted his weight from one leg to another. He looked carefree and devoid of anything that could possibly dampen his spirits. “I’m sorry to worry you.”
“I wasn’t worried,” Damian snapped.
Tim suddenly connected the dots then. It clicked into place as if it was always meant to be there. Tim couldn't believe it. Dick had already known what Damian was going through the second he laid eyes upon him. Tim struggled to figure out the issue until now, an embarrassing confession to make, but Alfred’s observation made sense now. Damian had been anxious because he was worried. It was crazy that it'd only taken Dick one look to understand what was going on. It'd taken Tim a few minutes at least.
“Alright, so you weren’t worried,” Dick pacified, placing a comforting hand on Damian’s head, “but I’m pleased all the same to see you.”
Damian huffed, in that avoidant way he could manage, and refused to say anything more.
Dick hummed as if he knew all the secrets there was to know about Damian. Tim wondered how he could be privy to such secrets.
“I was thinking we can head upstairs after I change out of these mucky clothes, and then we could binge-watch that show you were talking about earlier,” Dick began, “the one about that guy who was reincarnated as a moss golem, or whatever it was you said.”
Damian finally looked at Dick, peering at him with suspicious eyes, and yet there was something submissively hopeful in his face.
Damian didn’t speak until he carefully thought about the proposal, though, apparently, judging by Dick’s patient smile, his answer was already anticipated.
“I suppose, if that would make you stop smelling,” he said.
Dick feigned mock hurt and retrieved his hand to press it against his heart. Tim watched him display a scene of dramatics that Damian wasn’t impressed with, but it was clear to Tim that Damian was feeling better because of his body-language. Damian’s shoulders, jaw, and face had relaxed significantly. Dick really knew how to put his kid into a better mood.
Tim made eye-contact with Alfred who gave him a ‘see-I-told-you’ look that made him feel foolish.
It was later in the day when Tim came across his father leaning against the wall, outside of the living room, and the sight made him pause his journey to the backyard. Tim had intended to get some good reading in for the afternoon on the porch, where Alfred had installed a new swing, but Bruce’s idling puzzled him. It wasn’t often that he made a habit of standing in the hallway.
Tim opened his mouth as if to say something but then Bruce pressed a finger up to his lips. Tim was instantly silenced, partly because his beta side wished to obey, but also because he was naturally curious. Bruce gestured towards the open doorway with the tilt of his head, and Tim took that as an invitation to investigate what was going on.
Tim peered around the corner where he almost had a perfect view of Damian held in Dick’s arms. Tim almost couldn’t believe that Damian had been grumpy earlier, based on the scene he was seeing, and that was because Damian looked quite comfortable. Dick was looking him in the eyes, carrying a quiet, sweet conversation with him. The show on the television was forgotten as Damian stared up at his alpha.
There was no denying the admiration and affection in those eyes—in both their eyes. Though Dick’s were significantly softer.
Those two were inseparable.
Tim was almost jealous. How Dick could have turned Damian from an angry—hurt little boy to the sweetest, most loyal pup, was a mystery to him.
Dick briefly paused in conversation to fuss over Damian’s climbing shirt, pulling it back down over his stomach so that he remained warm. Tim pulled himself away, ready to leave those two to their pack bonding. Dick was a good alpha—probably one of the best Tim knew. He’d seen plenty of alphas who didn’t know how to take care of their pack members, but Dick wasn’t one of those people. He was a great leader, and an even better teacher. He’d protect Damian forever. Tim didn’t doubt it.
Tim was ready to leave the hallway altogether. He passed his father, but then he was stopped by the call of his name.
Tim turned and looked at Bruce curiously.
“Where are you going?”
“To the backyard,” Tim answered.
Bruce looked him over, saw the book pressed underneath his arm, and made a decision. Tim didn’t know what that decision was until his book was suddenly snatched away from him.
“Hey!” Tim said. He felt bad immediately afterwards for being so loud. He sure hoped his brothers hadn’t heard them. “What are you doing? That’s mine.”
“You’re overdue for something more important,” Bruce said.
“What could be more important?” Tim asked, irritated.
Bruce rumbled and Tim nearly turned scarlet-red right then and there. He was rumbling at him, like a baby. Tim wasn’t a baby—he’d outgrown his pup years. Why did his father always insist upon treating him like a child, and rumble to him in such a way out in the open? Where Dick and Damian could hear and tease him over later.
“Bruce,” Tim protested.
It wasn’t as if they hadn’t bonded recently. In fact, just one night ago, Tim had been pulled to the side to be scented after a yucky, sewer-involved, patrol. It’d been embarrassing then too. Bruce had a habit of treating him like he was still in need of scenting even though pack members, when matured, were perfectly capable of scenting themselves without assistance. That was just further proof that Bruce craved spending time with him.
“Come on,” Bruce insisted, walking away with the wave of the book in the air. “You won’t be getting it back if you don’t.”
Tim stood there for a second before groaning.
Reluctantly, he followed his father.
He couldn’t see his face, but he just knew there had to be a smile on it.