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“Master Bruce, with all due respect, may I recommend you finish for the night and get some rest, sir?” Alfred Pennyworth doesn’t even knock as he walks into the Bat cave. Young Master Bruce (not so young anymore with a brood of his own, but some fatherly part of Alfred can’t see him any other way) is still pacing in front of the bat computer, sweat racing down his forehead even though the temperature is quite brisk. 

“Alfred, you know I can’t.” Master Bruce says, his tone sounding much more snippy than usual. Must be the stress. “I don’t need you anymore for tonight.” He adds, tongue more in cheek this time. “Get some rest. No use in both of us clucking all night like mother hens.” 

“Master Bruce, I must protest. It’s been over twenty-four hours. Master Dick-”

“Names, Alfred.” Master Bruce protests. “We’re in the Batcave.”

Alfred exhales but nods. Wayne Manor, Wayne rules. “Robin, Signal, and the girls are out on patrol, bringing on both Night Wing and Red Hood for assistance. Red Robin’s doing everything he can research-wise, and all the bases have been covered, sir.” Although Master Bruce’s back is turned to him, Alfred grins behind his closed hand. “If I may be so bold, there is no reason for you to not take care of yourself anymore.” 

“I should be out there with them.” 

“If I can remind you, Master Bruce, I haven’t given you a clean bill of health yet”
“I should be finding more leads.” Master Bruce sat down in his spinning office chair and started twirling towards the Bat-Computer. 

“Let Miss Barbara and Master Timothy work on that, it’s part of their strengths. They’ll find something. You’re not going to be any sort of help to any of your children if you are passed out on the floor of the bat Cave, sir.” 

“What would they say?” 

“I think Master Jason would try and knock you out himself, Master Dick would fight you all the way to your bedroom while throwing you puns, Master Timothy would try some shenanigans neither one of us had thought of yet, and Damian will just yell at you until something happened. Not to mention what any of the others would do-- please, sir, just go to bed.” 

“Someone should let the Justice League-”

“You did that earlier, sir.” Alfred was beginning to wonder if he should call in one of the robins in for backup. “Really, Master Bruce, I-”

“Fine. You’re right, Alfred.” Master Bruce smiled wryly as he stood up from the chair, pushing it back into the desk. “I’ll go to sleep.”

“You have a bath drawn in your room, sir. And there are tea and cookies placed on the nightstand if you have a smattering of hunger before sleep.” Alfred smiled in victory. 

“Did you lace them with Doxepin or something so I’d fall asleep better?” Bruce chuckled.

“Master Bruce, I am not as low as all that. It’s just lavender and strawberry tea, sir.” Alfred sniffed, feigning hurt. 

“Ok, ok, just checking. Can’t be too sure about anything anymore. G’nite Alfie” 

“Sleep well, Master Bruce.” Alfred smiled, relishing the sweet taste of victory as he saw the pieces of the black suit get dismantled. Alfred handed Master Bruce, now looking more like Young Master Bruce, his robe and watched as the very tired man stumble towards the stairs. 

“Allow me to escort you, sir.” Alfred slipped underneath Master Bruce’s arms before he could fall. 

Master Bruce didn’t protest.

After Alfred Pennyworth was satisfied that Bruce Wayne would sleep, he walked down to the bat cave, being careful to avoid the one creaky spot on the front stairwell. By his calculations, none of the children would be back yet, and he had a small window of opportunity.

He was not wrong. Alfred Pennyworth is rarely wrong. 

In the darkened edge of the Batcave, a landline phone hung on the rocky wall. Its original function was to connect Wayne Manor with the cave if Alfred needed Master Bruce or Master Dick for something or vice versa. They had since upgraded the technology, but since it was more work than necessary to uninstall the landline, Master Bruce just kept it there, just in case.

Alfred smiled as he picked up the receiver end. He had the phone number he needed etched into his memory for all time. 9-9-9. 

One ring goes by, then three. Alfred isn’t worried. The individual on the other end was known to be not the least organized of persons. 

By the end of the sixth ring, a sliver of doubt passes through his mind What if- , but then there’s the click of someone else picking up.

“Hullo?” It’s a man’s voice, with a delightfully Scottish accent that Alfred sometimes missed when he felt older than usual 

“Hello, this is Alfred Pennyworth of Wayne Manor-” Alfred starts but doesn’t get three seconds in before the other person goes “ALFIE! Oh, Alfie, you old bean, it’s so good to see you.”

Alfred smiles, in spite of himself. “It’s a pleasure to hear your voice again, Doctor. Now, if you would be so kind as to jump the pond and come drop by the manor, I think we have a little problem that would be your cup of tea.”

Chapter Text

“What’s that noise, Pennyworth?” Master Damian looked up from his snack of tiny sandwiches as his ears heard a whooshing noise. 

“I believe that would be the guests that I called in.” Alfred smiled. “Would you like to come with me to greet them, Master Damian?”
“You invited guests?” Master Damian furrows both of his eyebrows and scrunches up his little nose, a habit that he picked up from his father, which makes him look even more like a younger version of Master Bruce. “Pennyworth, we are in the middle of an alien crisis-”

“These guests are more equipped and knowledgeable about the extraterrestrial forces than we are, Master Damian. I thought their wisdom might be helpful.” Alfred gently places all the dirty dishes in the sink. They’d have to get done later with the arrival of the Doctor. 

Damian stuffs the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and swallows, dabbing his face with a napkin with trained elegance. “Let’s go, Pennyworth.” 

Alfred nods and the two of them traverse across the manor to the back gardens, where they see a blue police box had smashed into the bed of red and yellow tulips. Oh, dear. Alfred sighs internally but doesn’t let it show on his face. 

The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS. “Alfred Pennyworth, by God, I’ve missed you so much. It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise, sir.” Alfred’s smile stretched from ear to ear. He was about to introduce the young robin by his side when the Doctor cut him off.

“And you must be Bruce! It’s been ages since I’ve seen you, and you haven’t aged a day.” The Doctor was shaking Damian’s proffered hand. “Alfred, is that normal?” 

“I’m afraid, there’s a misunderstanding.” Damian cut in first before Alfred could correct. “Bruce Wayne is my father. I am Damian Al Ghul-Wayne.” 

“Blimey, so you are.” The Doctor paused. “You look just like him.” 

“That is evident.” Damian nodded. “Who do I have the honor of speaking to? I assume you are a friend of Pennyworth’s?” 

“He’s the Doctor, and he’s going to help us with our little problem here in Gotham.” Alfred jumped in. “Traveling alone, are you this time, sir?” 

“Yes, Alfred. Look, if you still want to come with, the spot’s still free.” 

“As kind as the offer is, Doctor, my place is here at the manor. My gallivanting days are through.” Alfred’s heart felt much lighter than usual. Things were going to be okay.

Chapter Text

Only cowards run. A young man in a red and green suit held a sword in a defensive stance. Damian Al Ghul-Wayne is no coward.

“Dami! What are you doing?” 

Damian jumped as he started slashing through the overgrown moving pieces of iron with his upgraded sabre that he had forged from some materials in the trenchcoat pockets. It cut through easily, like a lightsaber in a Star Wars comic book. 

“Ex-term-in-ate-” 

These tin cans were no match for a small eleven-year-old that runs on spite and red bull. 

“I’m trying to save your life here. The least you could do is cooperate.” 

“As you can see, I am more than in my element here, Doctor.” 

What kind of name was Doctor anyway? It seemed senseless. So far, the only thing he’d done was create more problems and wave a sonic screwdriver (whatever that was), and he didn’t seem to have a PhD. 

“You’re not tho-” There was a clashing and cleaning behind him; Damian turned around just long enough to see one of the tin cans spinning into another three. “Damian, you’re underestimating them.” 

“You haven’t given us a straight answer once since we came here.”  Damian said. “Give me one good reason why I should trust you.”

“Your father and grandfather trust me.” The Doctor replied. “Is that not enough for you? They traveled with me throughout the ends of the universe, and still, they came home safe and sound.”
Damian gripped his sword harder, jumping towards the Doctor. “You’ll want to duck.”

The Doctor dutifully rolled out of the way as Dami crashed into another tin can, decapitating its eye before it had a chance to fire an electrical shock.

“See? They’re gone.” Damian refrained from adding under his breath No thanks to you. 

“For now. Til the simulation resets.” the doctor shrugged. “I came to grab you. You’re still in my pocket.”

Damian huffed. They were standing in Gotham plaza. Rulli’s was right across the street, the Batburger was around the corner, and Red Robin right behind him. The ground felt solid underneath his feet. This wasn’t a simulation. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw them again. He muttered curses under his breath. 

“Look up.”  Trenchcoat behind him said. 

Used to following orders, Damian allowed his eyes to flash upward for one second to see a banner he hadn’t noticed before: “Round 3. Record score: 213300/500000 EXP” 

The hell is that supposed to be?

“You’re in my pocket dimension, Damian. Quite literally, you haven’t left my pocket. I came to grab you, but if you’re having too much fun fighting daleks, well, I won’t stop you. Looks like you’re having fun.”

“How long have I been here?” Damian suddenly crouched to avoid two incoming shots from the Daleks.

“Couldn’t tell you. Time passes differently here than in the proper universe.”  Doctor shrugged. “Besides, what is time besides a human concept to measure moment-to-moment-”

“I don’t need a philosophy lesson right now!” Damian shouted. “You could help me out with this, you know.”  The new guy was worse than Dick at this sometimes. 

“Nope. They can’t hurt me. I’m a simulation too. Just like them. Except I’m programmed to help you get out.”
Damian’s glowing sword cut decommissioned two more Daleks, and then he thought he saw numbers rising from the corner of his eye. 2000?  1500?  

“That’s the amount of experience points you’re getting, Damian.” The doctor grinned. “Kill enough Daleks and you get to level up.” 

Then Damian noticed that every time the sword struck against the metal, a long red bar would decrease in size, first by halves, and then by smaller increments. 

“What is this.” 

“I told you. It’s a game.” The Doctor’s voice came from behind him. And Tag, your It.” 

Damian turned around to yell at the Doctor when he felt something hit him from behind. As he vibrated and writhed with pain, collapsing to the ground, he heard the sound of glass. 

“That’ll be your heart containers, Damian. Might want to make sure those don’t break. You know each level gets harder than the rest. The Daleks get stronger. Faster. Better.” 

As soon as Damian got control of his arms back, he swung just in time to reflect one of the dalek’s blows back harmlessly away from himself. Unfortunately, it didn’t hit the Dalek, but all things considered, it looked cool. 

“If I level up. Will you get me out of here?” 

“You could just quit. I can take you out now.”
Only cowards quit. Damian grimaced. He was not a coward. 

He did wish he had paid slightly more attention to when his brothers were gaming instead of training. Perhaps there were many different kinds of training. 

Round 4 was not difficult. Not only were there Daleks, but they also brought friends that exploded if you came too close to them. This ended up working not to their advantage when Damian found a way to set it off in their vicinity but outside of their range

Round 5 was worse. Another heart container shattered, leaving Damian with two left. He had been facing against two kinds of enemies. Dalek and an enemy that seemed to hate Daleks, but it also wasn’t sentient enough to be friends with him either. But this thing had some kind of tracking aim, so any projectiles would be coming right at Damian no matter where he could run. He could only try to put in some amount of distance between them before they exploded.

Round six got a bigger, translucent banner popdown. LEVEL UP! Please allocate your stats points.

What.

The name at the heading was “Damian Al Ghul-Wayne, 5th Robin of his name, prince of darkness--” the titles carried on past the spacing of the header would allow. 

Underneath, there were six boxes, numbers sandwiched by a plus or minus sign. 

Strength: 7, Constitution: 9, Dexterity: 9 I ntellect: 6, Wisdom: 5, Charisma: 4

“What happens if I change the numbers?” Damian asked the Doctor, using the moment of peace to turn to face him.

“Do it and find out.” Damian only received a shrug. “Will warn you, the effects after you hit the ‘submit’ button are permanent.”

“How do I leave the simulation?” Damian sheathed his makeshift sword letting his arm rest.

“Well, you have to leave the pocket.” The Doctor stood up and started walking towards him. “Which means you have to keep playing the game.” 

Damian exhaled and turned back to the popup. This is ridiculous. These numbers are perfectly arbitrary; what does a 4 in Charisma even mean?

He squared back his shoulders. Whatever these numbers signified, they must have affected the game somewhat. Well, Charisma has not been helpful to this encounter, so not that one. Besides, I’d probably just turn out more like Richard. The thought wasn’t that unpleasant to him, but in the interest of exiting the pocket dimension as soon as possible-.

Jason was strong. Damian idly started pressing the plus button to see how high it would go. A seven turned to fifteen, and it wouldn’t let him toggle any of the other numbers until he returned it to its original state. 

As the strength numbers increased, so did his muscles tighten and grow before they were almost bursting out of the suit. Interesting. 

Dexterity could be a good one as well- he would be able to match Richard in his flamboyant acrobatics stunts. But why were his intellect and wisdom so low? Damian was top of his class in school, he didn’t deserve a 6 and a 5 respectively. 

Damian just took one of each of the traits that interested him (constitution seemed boring and high enough anyway) and having two left, he added one to strength and wisdom each. 

Strength: 9, Constitution: 9, Dexterity: 10, Intellect: 7, Wisdom: 7, Charisma: 4

Damian felt his muscles increase again - although not to the same extent as before. However, he also felt sparks fly off in his brain when he increased his intellect and wisdom scores. This is…strange to say the least. 

Then part of him realized how funny it would be if he could stay like this in the real world outside the pocket dimension. He debated splurging all six of his points to get charisma up to 10 to unnerve the rest of his siblings. I still need to get out of here though. 

“I imagine the levels will only increase in difficulty rank from here?” 

“But of course. Same as with any game.” The Doctor replied. 

“But there should be a way to force quit.” Damian followed up. 

“You could- but where’s the fun in that?” The doctor grinned leaving Damian to simply tsk in disapproval. 

He clicked the submit button before realizing that he had only put all of his skill points in Charisma, making the final scores

Strength: 7, Constitution: 9, D exterity: 9, I ntellect: 6, Wisdom: 5, Charisma: 10

Damian growled. I didn’t mean that- but the popup vanished as quickly as it came. Great.

The floods of enemies did indeed increase in great number and in variety. Some of them were easy to deal with, but as expected his Charisma boost was only a dead weight. 

“You’re not thinking outside the box enough, Damian!” The Doctor shouted from somewhere behind a barrel. “I believe in you; If Bruce could do it, than so could you.”
Father did this as well? Damian didn’t really have time to process this information.d

Then it hit him. What’s Tim saying? The enemy of my enemy is my friend? He could turn them all against each other. Gaslight. Gatekeep. And Girlboss. 

“HEY. Metal Trashcans.” Damian shouted. “I am not the one constantly shooting at you. People who shoot at you are your enemy. Therefore , I am not your enemy and you should be fighting the Metal Men.” 

Ex-Term-In-Ate. The metal trashcans screamed and turned around, allowing Damian space to breathe in an old tower as things began fighting each other. 

I can not believe that worked. 

Damian came to the realization that if bamboozling them had worked, he then could then stealth behind them and just convince them to attack each other. 

“Did you know that the big metal men are trying to quote unquote upgrade you?” He whispered behind the ranks of the Daleks. “Do you really think they’re going to stop at just the human race? There will be consequences-.”

As the Daleks began to turn and panic, Damian had moved out of sight as the Daleks approached their new enemy. “I am the superior being. Take out the metal trashcans first.” Damian whispered to one cyberman and then disappeared as the hunk of metal turned to look at the voice. 

Tim was right, Damian reflected. Psychological warfare was fun sometimes. Perhaps 

What if he could also use this to leave. He crept around the simulation grounds until he was next to where the Doctor was perched, crunching away on an apple. 

“I wanna go home, Doctor.” Damian leaned his head against the older man’s arm, like he did to Richard when he craved attention. “I miss my family and I’m tired-”

“I can see through you. Your right eye twitches when you lie. Same as your old man.” The Doctor sighed. “Besides, it’s your fault for messing in with my pockets and falling in.” 

“I just wanted to use your sonic screwdriver to play with Alfred.” Damian looked up as his lower lip trembled slightly. 

The Doctor furrowed his brow slightly as he looked down in Damian’s face. “Somehow I don’t think Alfie’s going to approve of a glorified laser pointer as a pet.”

“No. Not Alfred the Butler. Alfred the cat.” 

“Alfred can turn into a cat?” The doctor stood up suddenly, accidentally shoving Damian aside. “This I have to see.” 

Damian wasn’t going to correct this assumption until they got home. The Doctor grabbed his hand and pulled out a different glowing gadget- how many did one man need?

Then the simulation faded into Darkness and Damian saw a bunch of stars zooming past him until it turned into soft darkness before he was in the Wayne Manor theater with everyone looking at him.

“Did you have fun?” Father was looking at him with a bemused smile for a second behind a mug. 

Damian blinked. “You’re strange . But you’re interesting.” 

The Doctor laughed. “He did better than you did, Bruce, you should have seen him rizz up robots like it was nothing-” The Doctor stopped as he laid eyes on Alfred. “Alfie, how have I been roommates with you for multiple centuries and I have not seen you turn into a cat once .” 

Alfred looked towards Damian who just shrugged. “I believe there’s been a miscommunication, Doctor-” 

Damian slipped out to go check out the TARDIS while the adults were all distracted. There was still time. There was all the time in the world.