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Part 5 of Tim Drake Takes Over The World (One Murder At A Time)
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Published:
2024-05-15
Completed:
2025-10-09
Words:
2,730
Chapters:
3/3
Comments:
106
Kudos:
614
Bookmarks:
57
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5,790

Speak of the Devil and He Will Appear

Summary:

Damian is taken to a secret safehouse that no one knows about, because Drake is so stupid to think that people are after Damian.

Wait, what do you mean there are actually people after Damian?

—

"Anyway...."

Drake's recording pauses as the wall in front of Damian splits open, revealing what looks like at, at his first glance, to be a well-stocked secret base.

"The reason you're here is because a League of Assassins ninja has broken into Gotham, and they're probably after you. Ra's al Ghul wants you dead, and I'm not going to let that happen."

—

Work five in the Tim Drake Takes Over the World (One Murder at a Time) series. Title from SPKOTHDVL by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME.

Notes:

If you're new here, I recommend going back and reading the rest of the work for this to make sense. If you don't, honestly, this isn't the worst place to start.

Also, if you just got this email and clicked on it, go read the last chap of And I'm Getting Older Too because I also just posted that.

Anyway, like I said in the notes for the last chap of And I'm Getting Older Too, my writing style has changed significantly since I last updated thanks to being a creative writing major in college and taking all the classes and stuff. This work is a LOT better than anything I've been posting in this series (and slightly better than Some Common Ground, which is a different story I wrote thay got really popular). I hope you like it! This time, I make no promises about a consistent schedule.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Are You Waiting For the World To End?

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Damian wakes up to an alarm playing in his bedroom. At first, he thinks it must be a fire alarm (how did a fire start in the manor?) until he hears that it's only coming from the underside of his bed.

He looks under his bed and finds nothing. It's only when he lifts the mattress and finds a cell phone taped to the bottom does he find the source of the alarm and silence it.

When he does, the phone says that it is scanning his retinas. Then it asks for his fingerprint. Damian is far too curious to ignore the device, so he allows his finger to be scanned.

White text on a black background appears. It's heavily encrypted in a cypher that only bats know, created by Drake. He created a variant for each member of the group, including Damian, from before Damian replaced him.

This message is only comprehensible to Damian, and it has to be left by Drake.

It takes him under a minute to decode it. It's an address, along with instructions.

Front door. You will be given further instructions when you are inside. Make sure you are not followed. Trust no one. Tell no one.

Damian thinks about telling Richard. He then thinks about how dismissive Richard was when Damian approached him about Drake's death.

He doesn't tell Richard.

Instead, he follows the instructions to the letter, even setting it up so that anyone who comes to his room will believe he is still there.

The building that the address leads to is a beaten-down, shotgun-style house on the outskirts of Gotham. From the outside, it seems perfectly ordinary, but of what Damian was told of Drake, the insides will be anything but.

He steps through the doors into what looks like a mudroom. Coats hang from the walls, cabinets, backpacks strewn about, and muddy, scuffed shoes.

He thinks he might have gotten the address wrong until a steel door slams to the ground behind him.

"Okay," a voice says over what must be a speaker or public address system like the ones used in schools. "So, this recording will only play if you have the phone and the heat sensors are only detecting one person, which means we're off to a great start. If you're Damian, you're in the right place. If you're a different bat, you shouldn't be here. If you're one of mine, you know what to do.

"And if you're someone else, I encourage you to stay here. Nothing bad will happen, I promise."

Damian suspects that that isn't true, and that something bad would happen to someone who stayed in here.

"Damian slash whoever is pretending to be Damian, there are a bunch of machines to your right that will prove your identity."

He looks to the right and the cabinet doors open, revealing various machinery.

When Damian looks, he finds a computer, a retina scanner, face scanner, fingerprint scanner, a voice recognition microphone, and a needle to take a DNA scan.

Drake is thorough. Damian approaches the needle, as a DNA sample would take the longest to process.

He touches the needle and a voice comes over the intercom.

"Put your name into the computer first," the voice says. "It's a lot easier for the algorithm to know what file it's trying to match to."

Damian would never confess this under threat of death, but he struggles to input the code that identifies his name and that he is safe. The combination is just slipping from his mind. It doesn't help that he's developing a headache so bad that it's making him dizzy, or that the speaker is malfunctioning and letting out a hissing sound.

"Don't panic, but I'd hurry up if I were you. Unless you're not supposed to be in here. Then you're totally fine. I promise."

Damian gets the code and quickly performs the rest of the tests to prove who he is.

The hissing stops, and a much louder fan sound takes over.

"This recording is playing if you have the phone, are alone, and passed all the tests to prove you're Damian. I'm venting the carbon monoxide out of the room.

"It's Tim, by the way. You didn't know me long enough to be able to recognize my voice before I died, but even if you did, it sounds different now."

The drawers hiding the identification verification technology close and there's a noise behind him. One of the coats has moved to show an opening like a library chute.

"Put that phone in there, and absolutely nothing else that you value. I'd tell you to put your real phone in there too, but we were trained by the same people, so I know you didn't bring it."

For all of the things Damian has learned about Drake's intelligence, he didn't expect the man to make such a simple error as implying that they learned from the same people. Damian was trained by the League long before he was trained by Richard.

Damian puts the phone into the chute and Drake's recording immediately says, "Fwoosh! You know, not to sound even more like a supervillian, but I love incinerating things. Don't tell the Justice League I said that."

The recording stops for a second and a different one starts up.

"This is the first recording that should be playing if I've proved you're Damian, and you're alone. If these are playing out of order, try to figure that out while you wait. I'm sure someone will be more than happy to explain everything when they get here. These recordings do have everything in them, but they go on for hours, so I'm not making you sit through that.

"Anyway...." the wall in front of Damian splits open, revealing what looks like at, at his first glance, to be a well-stocked secret base. "The reason you're here is because a League of Assassins ninja has broken into Gotham, and they're probably after you. Ra's al Ghul wants you dead, and I'm not going to let that happen."

Grandfather wants him dead? That's preposterous. Damian is his heir. Damian wants to tell this to Drake's idiotic recording, but it is a recording, so it couldn't understand him if it tried.

"I know this because—" recording Drake takes a long, deep breath "—I'm the assassin he tried to send to kill you."

Notes:

And no one can ever tell me I'm bad at foreshadowing ever again (i was never told that but still)!

Tim, after playing both Portal games: you know what would be fucking hilarious?
Tam, looking over his shoulder: does it have to do with the fact that you just googled 'deadly neurotoxin emitter'?
(For real though the recordings that are going to be played in this work are all very glados-core)

I've been super excited to get to this work, because this is when we start to learn EVERYTHING and it will no longer just be me bent over a notebook that has all of the lore for the series in it. Seriously, I have a notebook that's three years old and falling apart that's COVERED in writing, red pen, and sticky notes. It makes me feel like a real author.

Please leave kudos and comments! So many people sort by kudos and I want people to see this series!

Question time: I almost went with a different style of house or an apartment building, but I thought a shotgun-style is the perfect size and shape. What would be the most inconvenient building to put a safehouse in?

Chapter 2: Are You Hoping That It's Just Pretend

Notes:

One day, one day I will update my fics regularly. That day is not today. I'm quickly realizing the only reason I was able to make Some Common Ground is because it was so popular that I felt pressured into making it. But if it works it works. You know what? If you can get this fic to 2000 kudos or 300 bookmarks by the end of February 2025 then I'll have the next three works in the series published in completion by the end of the year, on my good name. (I chose such a crazy goal to reach because you'll never hit it in time)

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"I said no, or else you'd be dead already," Drake continues. "So you should trust me."

That is not as reassuring as Drake may think it is. 

"I'll spare you the finer details of how I became an assassin, but the short story is that I was killed and the League brought me back. Let's just say, by the time Ra's and I were square, I didn't want to go back. So I joined. I was there for a while until Ra's told me to kill you. I would never kill a kid, so I tore him a new asshole and told him to call me back when he was sane. Then I set all of this up."

He looks around as the lights flicker on further and further into the building. It's bigger than the house looked from the outside, but with the downwards slope it's safe to say that the building slowly enters its own basement. 

It has everything he could need. A training mat, a medbay, a computer with dozens of monitors, two cars (one that looks like the batmobile and one that looks like a normal Subaru that Damian would bet on his life was at the bare minimum bulletproof), different suits and armor, and all of the walls are covered in weapons and gadgets.

"If you're listening to this, I'm already gone from Gotham and have left all of you in this miserable hellscape. No offense; I'm sure you're loving it. Some people just need... brighter pastures than others."

Richard had not been lying about how cheeky Drake is. 

"If this recording is playing, I've contacted Oracle. Or, well, the automated system that I'm narrating has. It might take her a few minutes to respond. If she doesn't respond in twenty minutes, I'll contact others in the city. Take this time to acclimate to your surroundings. Or don't, I don't care. I'll be back when Oracle replies."

Damian starts poking around the warehouse, trying not to think about what's happening around him. It doesn't work very well; all he can think about is what Drake said.

Why would grandfather have him killed? He's the only heir to the League of Assassins. Unless the old man has finally decided that he really is going to live forever. 

Is he going to hurt Damian's loved ones? Sure, no one can hurt Jon or the bats, but what about Colin? He's just a child, even with the venom. That's not even mentioning his other classmates. If Grandfather sent ninjas to his school, they wouldn't survive.

Damian came in civvies, so he goes over to the suits of armor.

"All of this was recorded when you were twelve." The recording is back. "So, depending on what year it is now, the first three sets of armor may not be the best fit. There's more behind this wall, if you need it."

Damian looks at the three suits of armor in front of him. He's still twelve, so these will probably be somewhat tight at most. There's a set that looks like his Robin uniform, an unmarked set, and what looks like a hoodie, sweatpants, and a pair of sunglasses. 

Damian takes the hoodie off of the mannequin and looks at it. Underneath is a skin-tight shirt made of kevlar. The same thing is under the pants. He puts those on, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor.

Another chute opens in the wall. 

"If this recording is playing, you've changed your clothes. You should probably burn your old clothes, just to be safe."

Damian hesitantly drops his original outfit in. He wasn't particularly attached to it anyway.

Then he presses a few buttons on the wall and it opens up, revealing dozens of mannequins all adorned with similar things to the three that are Damian's size. 

Drake put an absurd amount of work into this. 

He pats down his outfit and finds that there are several hidden pockets both on the civilian clothes and on the armor underneath it. He goes over to the gadgets and fills his pockets. Now the only question is how he's going to hide a katana in this outfit.

While he's wondering that, the recording clears its throat. 

"If this recording is playing, Oracle never responded. The automated system contacted the others. One of them will respond, probably. For now, go entertain yourself. You can throw a ball at the wall or something."

Damian does not throw a ball at a wall. Instead, he goes to the computer. There are dozens of files and, when Damian clicks on them, they're all full of their own files. He doesn't want to know how far that matryoshka doll goes.

It also has The Sims 4.

One of the files is titled 'AN EXPLANATION'.

He goes to click on it when the damned recording starts again. 

"If this recording is playing, no one has responded. It looks like you're doomed and that all of this was for nothing."

Damian's back straightens. That can't be right. He starts looking around frantically there has to be something—

A laugh plays. 

"That was a joke. Of course I have a contingency plan for that. I'm not an idiot who doesn't plan for a scenario where everyone ghosts you. That's revenge for the times you tried to kill me."

Damian does not like Drake at all.

"But, this new plan is different. You're going to have to leave the safehouse. You won't get my hilarious commentary and steadfast guiding voice out there. I'm sure you'll be heartbroken."

He's looking forward to it, actually. The voice is a sarcastic asshole. 

"You need to find Tamara Fox. She's the only person who can help you, and I trust her with myyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy—"

That's when the lights go out. 

There's only one explanation: someone knows Damian is in here.

Notes:

Oooooooh, someone's about to fucking die!!! I'm so excited!!!

*clears throat* ignore that.

Question time: how else could Tim have gotten back at Damian for trying to kill him?

Chapter 3: Turn It Off, Because It Doesn't Sound Like Them

Notes:

Sorry this took so long. I was halfway through the chapter and then one of my best friends died and I couldn't bring myself to create for a while, especially something where someone dies. But I'm learning to handle the loss and now I'm updating the fic!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Damian is lost in the dark until he pulls the sunglasses out of his pockets. They have to be electronic. Drake wouldn't have given him plain sunglasses. He slips the glasses on and finds a hidden button, turning them on and finding a night-vision setting.

Damian watches as a lithe figure that he can't entirely make out slips through a small gap in the wall that had closed behind Damian when he stepped in.

They run towards him, but they're at the disadvantage. They've never been in here, but Damian categorized his surroundings when he came in.

He throws a smoke pellet and runs towards the wall of weapons. He remembers where the katanas are and grabs one off the wall. Once he's turned back towards the ninja, the smoke has mostly dissipated. He swings.

They dodge out of the way perfectly and, when he goes to take a next step, they knock him off balance.

They kick the katana out if his hand and pin him down with a stong foot that knocks the air out of his lungs. He struggles, but he can't get up.

This can't be it, he thinks, but that doesn't stop the ninja's hand reaching down towards him to kill him.

In a show of weakness, he closes his eyes so that he doesn't have to watch himself die.


 

But the fatal blow never comes. Instead, he hears the whirring of a backup generator as the foot on his chest comes off.

"Power restored. Identifying intruder." It's still Drake's voice, doing a poor impression of a security system AI.

Damian opens his eyes. The sunglasses are still in night-vision, so he takes them off to see just as Drake's voice returns, no longer doing a voice.

"Cass, you're in the system. You could have used the door." Damian can hear the eye roll in Drake's voice.

"Cassandra?" Damian asks.

It's redundant. It's clearly her, so obviously her that Drake's system recognized her.

It also at least partially expected her to break in, which Damian would find funny if he hadn't just been completely sure he was going to die ten seconds ago.

She doesn't get to answer before Drake's infernal recording starts up once more.

"Resuming previous recording: —life. I'm not sure where she is, but the computer has her apartment address and I'm sure you can find her from there. You're the son of the world's second greatest detective, after all."

Cassandra helps Damian up from the ground with the hand that she had been outstretching earlier, the one he had been so sure she was going to kill him with only moments ago.

"But it's dangerous to go alone, so take this."

Something falls from the ceiling and onto the desk, which it then clatters off of due to the force it hit the desk with.

Cassandra picks it up while Damian catches his breath. He lies to himself and says that it's from when Cassandra pinned him with her foot.

If she had been a real combatant, he'd be dead. When did he get so weak?

"It's a good luck charm. Well, it's a key chain, but it's a good luck key chain. Tam got me one for every single holiday. All of them. I got one for Arbor day."

Cassandra hands him the key chain. It's a scarlet macaw with its wings spread. Written across the wings is 'It's 5 O'clock Somewhere'.

"Now take what you need and hit the road," Drake's voice commands, and finally ceases.

"I assume you know about the ninja in Gotham here to kill me?" Damian asks.

Cassandra shakes her head. "Ninja are gone."

Damian's eyes go wide and a hidden fear disappears, which is his first and only sign that it had been there.

"They left without doing their job?"

"No. You were not the target."

So he had nothing to be scared of. And he has been scared. He thought he'd had the part of him that feels fead destroyed in the League. Has Gotham softened him?

Cassandra continues, either unaware of or ignoring his internal crisis.

"Tam Fox is dead."

Notes:

I love a good bait and switch. Sorry Tam; you're one of my favorite characters, which will never end well.
Question time: Tim is definitely implying that he's the world's greatest detective here, but he's not right. Who's ACTUALLY the world's greatest detective? Wrong answers only.

Notes:

Please leave your love! It's what keeps me coming back to this work! It really is a labor of love, both my own love and the love you give me. It got harder to actually want to publish my other works when Some Common Ground blew up, because I received so much love for it and I don't get as much affection on this one. I do really want to thank everyone that has been leaving comments, though. I'm sorry I stopped replying. I promise to follow through and reply to comments left on chapter 2 and up of this fic and any of my other works going forward.