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It was a nice, peaceful morning at the new Pennyworth Manor.
The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and all of Bruce’s former Robins were visiting at the same time. Dick, Tim, and Jason were all sitting at a table in the breakfast nook chatting amicably, enjoying a nice and refreshing meal.
Dick had just finished a glass of orange juice, and was now munching on a strip of bacon. Tim was only on his second cup of coffee, and for once had naturally woken up early. Jason had graciously decided to forgo his usual protein bars and 5-Hour Energy shots in lieu of an actual meal.
Naturally, it only lasted about 27 seconds.
“EIGHTEEN THOUSAND DOLLARS?!”
From down the hallway, Bruce roared like a lion that was just kicked in the balls. The sheer intensity of the sound sent reverberating shockwaves that cascaded throughout the mansion. The boys covered their ears as Bruce’s voice hit them with a force comparable to a thermonuclear bomb.
“Father, I can explain.”
Damian’s voice seemed like a whisper by comparison.
“I just gave you that card, what were you even spending it on?”
“Rest assured father, I will pay it back.”
Tim looked towards his brothers in abject confusion, What in the actual hell is going on?
“You don’t even have a job- No, you know what, I have a meeting in half an hour. We will discuss this later. If I even see a single cent spent on something frivolous in Tokyo, there will be consequences”
“Tt.”
Bruce’s heavy footsteps drew closer until he appeared from around the corner, a bright smile on his face as if he wasn’t about to make Damian experience death for a second time, this time without any Lazarus Island shenanigans to save him.
“Hi gang! I have to go to a meeting that’ll probably take up most of my day, so I won’t be back until much later.” He chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you guys need anything?”
Tim stared back dumbly and blinked. Dick coughed and Tim swore that his voice was an octave higher.
“Nope.”
“Nope.”
“Nope.”
“Oh ok,” Bruce, thankfully ignorant or ignoring of how three of his sons were gaggling like a flock of seagulls and shaking their heads in sync, turned and headed for the door. He turned back and waved, “Goodbye!”
The table remained silent for a solid 51 seconds before Tim mustered up the courage to speak, “So, we heard that right?”
“Yeah,” Dick leaned forward and rubbed his temples. “I don’t know how but…”
“The Demon Brat’s 18 G’s into credit card debt,” Jason finished for him. “Since when did he even have one?”
They both turned to Dick, who shrugged in return, “Why would I know?”
“You’re his favorite,” Tim and Jason said in unison.
“Ok yeah, but he’d probably think I’d tell Bruce.”
“Would you?” Tim asked.
Dick winced.
“Snitch,” Jason threw a grape at him.
“What could Damian even buy that’d put him into debt?” Tim rubbed the sides of his head and tried to think of an answer. It wasn’t as if Damian was spoiled like most rich kids, the only things Tim knew he bought were the barest of necessities.
“I dunno,” Jason leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “But I’d like to find out.”
Tim cocked his head at him, “How?”
“Well for starters,” The second Robin pointed up towards the ceiling. “We go upstairs and check out his room. He probably has something stashed away in there.”
“Jason, we're not breaking into Dami’s room,” Dick chided. “Whatever is going on is between him and Bruce.”
“Or, how about me and Tim sneak in while you distract the brat for like 15 minutes. I’m in, he’s in, are you in?”
“Uh,” Tim raised his hand awkwardly. “I never said I was-”
Jason cut him off with a look, “Yes you’re in Replacement, don’t even think about lying.”
Shit, Tim internally swore. He’s right.
“I don’t know,” Dick rubbed the back of his neck and looked at them skeptically.
Tim rolled his eyes at that, typical Dick. He had always been highly protective of Damian, but if he blocked him and Jason from going through with this, Tim swore that he’d call him Dickface for a month.
Dick leaned back and sighed, “But you got me, I want to know too.”
“Alright!” Jason pumped a fist in celebration. “You two ready?”
Tim nodded his assent while Dick rolled his eyes and stood. He called out as he walked into the hallway and turned towards the stairs, “Give me like 30 seconds and the coast should be clear.”
Sure enough, Dick soon came down with Damian in tow, the latter of the two furiously chewing out the other over… proper care and handling of wild mallard ducklings? Tim and Jason shot each other a look. Whatever Dick told Damian seemed to work, but it was probably best they didn’t ask too many questions about it.
Once the two had passed them and exited the manor, Tim and Jason immediately rose from their seats and headed for the stairs. Climbing them and passing a number of hallways, they came to the manor’s west side and stood in front of Damian’s room.
The door was an unassuming color painted to match with the rest of the interior. The only thing decorating it was a single hand-drawn sticker of a robin clutching a small bone in their beak. Tim raised an eyebrow at that. A little macabre, but nothing unusual considering whose room it was.
Jason reached forward and tested the door handle, grunting in surprise when he found it unlocked. He moved closer and cracked it open by a few inches.
“Hey Replacement,” Jason peered through the door. “Did you know that the Demon Brat has a wall-to-wall shelf full of weeb shit in his room?”
“He has a fucking what?”
Throwing the door open, the two barged in and could only stare in awe.
There before them was quite literally, from ceiling to floor and corner to corner, an utterly massive bookshelf with hundreds of volumes of manga. Dozens of character statues, trinkets, some schoolgirls sitting on a tank, and other such items were dotted across each shelf.
“Jesus Christ,” Tim muttered, which in this situation was quite appropriate. Just as He fed 5,000 people from one basket of bread and fish, Damian could probably also give each one of them a book to go along with their meal. “No wonder he’s in debt.”
“Yeah,” Next to him, Jason turned around and whistled. “With all the swords on his wall I’d call him a loser, but he actually knows how to use them.”
Tim likewise looked behind and- Woah.
Mounted on various places on the other walls were a variety of different bladed weapons of all different shapes and sizes. A number of them were strictly functional blades in the traditional League of Assassins style, likely the weapons he brought out on patrol. Others were more niche, a fencing and kendo sword for whenever Damian wanted to go seal clubbing at a local tournament, an English Longsword and a naval cutlass that were probably “borrowed” from a museum, and then finally a short kukri and a machete.
But that’s not what caught his eye.
Rather, it was the colorful and wildly impractical swords that were obviously taken from fiction. For the former, there was a stack of four colorful and ornately decorated katanas with several markings that seemed distinctly familiar. But the latter easily took the cake. There was a long and straight sword that looked like an oversized boxcutter with triggers on the grip, a massive greatsword that honestly just looked like a ripped piece of sheet metal, and then a purple halberd that Tim swore he once saw some 5-foot nothing goth girl wield.
“So,” Tim glanced at Jason. “Was this what you were anticipating?”
“Honestly, kinda,” He shrugged and walked closer to the wall of swords. “Damian isn’t a car guy and guns are off the table, so it was either this or Legos. Everything on the walls look like custom jobs too. Bruce may beat his ass so hard he’ll have to go back to Apokalips to save him again because of this, but I mean, shit, the brat’s got taste.”
Tim hummed in agreement, raking his eyes across the room. As they passed over each item, he kept a rough mental tally of how much it would all cost. However, as he did so, he couldn’t help but feel that something wasn’t right.
“Hey,” He nudged Jason’s shoulder. “Does this seem like 18 grand of stuff to you?”
Jason narrowed his eyes, “Actually, it doesn’t. Seems like six, maybe eight at the most.”
“There’s something happening here…” Tim moved to the bookshelf and leaned in to inspect it. “But what it is, ain’t exactly clear.”
He heard Jason’s boots move closer from behind him, “Do you think you can take a look into his credit cards?”
“Maybe, but B would know if I cracked the security for his bank accounts,” Standing up, Tim turned around and crossed his arms. “At least, that’s as if I did it by myself.”
.o0o.
“Are you serious? This is what you called me for.”
From the way Babs looked at the Batboys, Tim quietly wondered if she would magically stand up and beat them all to death with her wheelchair. Between Dick’s puppy dog eyes, Jason’s vicious mirth, and Tim’s D-tier attempt at mimicking Dick’s plea, it was a fairly understandable point. Even more so considering the former Robins had rolled up to her apartment on a random Thursday to conscript her into an unskippable side quest where the only reward would be a marginal amount of inter-sibling blackmail material.
“Ok Babs, hear me out,” Tim pointed to the steaming mug on her desk. “You may be drinking tea, but if you help us we will be able to spill some tea.”
“Timbo that’s not-”
“I’m drinking coffee-”
“Replacement that’s a terrible fucking argument-”
“OKAY, Fine!” Tim loudly shot down their complaints and soldiered on. “Look, earlier this morning, B was ready to break out the belt on Damian because the credit card he gave him has 18 grand of debt.”
Barbara raised an eyebrow and reached for her mug. Taking a loud sip, she waved them on with her hand.
“Me and Jason went into Damian’s room and found out he’s got like, thousands of dollars worth of manga and anime merch in his room.”
“Yeah,” Jason chimed in. “But not enough to account for all of the debt, so we need you and Tim to crack Bruce’s finances to look at Damian’s receipts.”
Babs leaned back and regarded them for a moment, “But what’s in it for me?”
“You’ll know the moment we do and can use it as blackmail.”
She grinned, “Say less.”
After an indeterminate amount of time that left Dick and Jason sprawled out across Barbara’s living room and a number of disposable coffee cups strewn about her tables and countertops, they had finally managed to get access.
“Guys, get over here!”
Hearing her call them, the two awoke from various degrees of slumber and hobbled over to Barbara’s Oracle station. Tim sat off to the side in a metal folding chair, supposedly as punishment for bothering her, resting his laptop in the place it was named after. Several USB cables connected it to Barbara’s supercomputer, an intensely powerful machine that may or may not have been stolen from NASA. Those cables were quite needed as the fan in Tim’s laptop was currently running like a Pratt & Whitney F135-PW-600 turbofan engine on full afterburner.
The boys huddled around Barbara as she organized the tabs on her monitors, shifting them about until Damian’s bank account was front and center. Barbara looked over her shoulders to confirm, “Are you guys sure about this?”
“Yes.”
“Positive.”
“Just open the damn account already.”
“Okay…” Clicking the login screen, the page loaded after a few minutes. But rather than being $18,000 in debt, his account was entirely paid for.
“Great, so you were lying- oh wait hold on,” Barbara scrolled down to see that Bruce had paid off Damian’s card earlier in the day. “Nevermind, false alarm.”
Looking through the account, there were thousands of dollars charged to one Gotham Manga. Not surprising, he had to get it all from somewhere. But, oddly enough, each purchase from the manga shop was charged twice. Even weirder, there was an associated transaction that was billed to FedEx. Specifically, FedEx International Next Flight.
“What in the-” Tim stared at the screen in abject confusion. “FedEx? Why is he- wha- FedEx?!”
“Jesus, no wonder the collection in his room seemed small,” Jason’s voice almost held a degree of respect, once you look past the sheer disbelief. “Dickface, your baby is an international sugar daddy.”
“Jason, he's 14.”
“Ok but his father is Bruce Wayne, his mother is Talia Al Ghul, and this brat is a bespoke test tube baby. His mere existence rigs the genetic lottery for all of us common folk,” Jason jabbed a finger at the screen and continued. “If any of us are gonna be having a sugar baby, it’d be him. And no Tim, Kon doesn’t count.”
“Hey-!”
“Again,” Dick was utterly exasperated at this point, “Dami’s only fourteen.”
“My point exactly,” Jason gave them a smug grin that caused a sinking feeling in Tim’s gut because he just knew that whatever Jason was about to say was going to be downright lovely. “He is getting to be around that age…”
“Jesus Little Wing, for the love of-”
“I wish you’d stayed dead-”
“ Ahem ,” Barbara silenced their complaints with a cough that was louder than a 1899 Appalachian coal miner who’s been inhaling air that’s more saturated with coal dust than the Floridan peninsula is with humidity for the past 15 years and is about to hit a midlife crisis at 23 years old only to be killed in the next month by a Pinkerton strikebreaker.
“Getting back on topic, considering the regularity of the FedEx charges, they’re all probably being sent to the same place.” The boys gave various hums of agreement. “If I can get the order confirmation number for one of them, I can pull up FedEx’s records for the delivery.”
“Alright,” Dick leaned in. “How do we get those?”
“There are a few ways,” Barbara pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “The first is to track down the confirmation email, but that would mean getting into Damian emails. We could also find his FedEx account, which would likewise follow a similar route. The third way would be to hack FedEx’s servers and have some of my AI comb their files for matching purchases.”
Tim rubbed his chin, “How long will that take?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. Getting into his email or FedEx account would take probably about the same amount of time as it did to get into his bank account, likely less, but still a while. Hitting FedEx directly wouldn’t take too long since your average furry can crack corporate firewalls in their sleep, but it’s FedEx- they handle a lot of packages. The AI I have are basically just versions of ChatGPT that I’ve juiced up with Batcomputer software, so they’re gonna be looking for a long while, probably longer than the other two methods.
“The only benefit to the last one is that we don’t run the risk of Damian finding out,” She took a long sip from her mug and finished the coffee in one gulp. “But Bruce doesn’t like it when we start poking holes in corporate firewalls since that just increases the chance that they find his backdoors.”
“Well, we can just not tell him,” Jason shrugged. “He doesn’t need to know right away.”
“Yeah, but it still has a lot of collateral risk, risk that I’d like to avoid if possible.”
“Hmm,” Tim watched the screen as Barbara scrolled down Damian’s list of charges. As she did so, something caught his eye. “Woah, woah, woah- hold on.”
“What is it?” She looked back at him.
“Scroll back up a bit and- there!” He pointed to a single massive $3,000 charge that everyone leaned in to see. It was a First Class plane ticket booked several months in advance, leaving today.
“What in the-” Jason squinted. “Where’s he going?”
“Uhh…” Barbara typed in a few things and followed some links before coming to a dead end. “I’m not sure. To get the confirmation number for the ticket I’d have to go through Damian’s email or crack another corporate firewall.”
He cursed under his breath.
Barbara reached for her cup and lifted it for a moment before realizing it was empty. Setting it down, she leaned back and rubbed her temples. “Okay, okay, did Damian ever mention doing something like this?”
“On a trip? No.” Dick shook his head.
“Wait,” Tim held up his hand. “This morning when Bruce was chewing him out, he mentioned something about Tokyo, that’s probably where he’s headed.”
“Yeah I think I remember that too,” Jason recalled, looking over to see Dick nod in agreement. “I think we got a lead.”
“Huh,” Barbara drew everyone’s attention.
“What is it?” Tim turned to her.
Damian buys manga and ships it somewhere every month, but this month he didn’t ship it, only bought it..”
“That’s it!” Tim excitedly pointed at the screen and looked at his brothers as the pieces fell into place. “He’s gotta be going to Tokyo to visit whoever he’s been sending the manga to. We have to get there before he does!”
Babs immediately perked up and furiously began typing. Rapidly opening and closing a few windows, she pulled up the Batcave’s inventory and checked the vehicle availability. She leaned back and turned around when she was finished.
“The Batplane is on standby right now and it should be able to get you guys there before Damian does,” Babs pushed up her glasses with a smirk. “Luckily, it’s got enough room for all of you.”
“Thanks Babs, you’re the best.” Tim gave her a pat on the shoulder.
“I don’t know about using the Batplane like that, you know it’ll release a ton of CO2 right?” Dick rubbed the back of his neck and looked at them skeptically. “We’re only supposed to use it for emergencies. Do we really need to get there before he does?”
“Dick, I hope you know that I love you and I’m glad you support the sea turtles or whatever,” Jason placed a hand on his shoulder and looked him dead in the eye. “But fuck the environment this is so much more important. While you may feel like tracking him through quite literally the heart of Japan, I meanwhile, think it’s a bit easier just to follow him once he gets out of the airport.”
.o0o.
“I take back everything I said about those jerks with lifted trucks, this compact car sucks” Jason bitched like a little bitch. “I feel like I’m in a go-kart with a lawn mower engine.”
“Little Wing, you’re gonna be urban-friendly and you’re gonna like it.”
“For the love of-” Tim was ready to remove a certain recipient of Bruce’s will. “This is the least conspicuous rental car I could find. I’m sorry Jason, but this is downtown Tokyo and the streets are tighter than your butt hole when Bruce checks how much powder you put in your ‘less than lethal’ cartridges.”
Silence.
“Ok but, Replacement, we passed like 20 rental bike-”
Now at a red light, Tim turned fully around to face Jason who sat in the back seat of their compact car. He glared at him and came up with the best threat he could, “Don’t make me play Stephanie’s white girl mix.”
“I wouldn’t mind some 2010’s Katy Perry-”
“They’re live Taylor Swift songs with audience reactions.”
“Okay, okay,” Jason held up his hands in surrender. Tim turned back around right as the light turned green, driving forward as he pointedly ignored Jason’s quiet sulking behind him.
“Uh, Tim?”
“Yeah Dick?”
“Wasn’t Damian’s cab four cars ahead and one to the right?”
“Yeah why?”
Tim looked ahead and- uh oh. It wasn’t there anymore. He craned his neck and looked around, but with all of the traffic he couldn’t see very far. Evidently, the “go-kart with a lawn mower engine,” as Jason had so graciously put it, had a slight flaw in that its ride height was about three inches above the ground.
“Oh goddamnit!”
He groaned in pain as a headache formed and intensified faster than a hurricane breaking free into the sweet, sweet, warm coastal waters of Florida after getting over the Great Puerto Rican Speed Bump. Said headache was now well into migraine territory, with its analogous storm going from “a day or two off work” to “the Waffle Houses are closed and you should make your peace with God.”
“Alright, that’s it, so much for going as civvies.”
Turning the wheel to the right and pulling over as fast as he could, likely giving several Japanese nationals a rude impression of American tourists in the process, Tim parked the car as the first place he found. Stepping out, Jason handed them their bags from the trunk and they slipped away into an alleyway to change. Within minutes, the trio stood on a nearby rooftop as Red Robin, Nightwing, and Red Hood.
Thankfully it was nighttime, so they didn’t have to worry too much about drawing unwanted attention. Plus, even with the colorful reds, yellows, and blues on their costumes, this was downtown Tokyo. There were enough fluorescent and neon lights that it might honestly be darker during the daytime.
With that being said, the three were standing around doing precisely a whole lot of nothing.
“Welp, good luck y’all,” Flipping the bird in the traditional Red Hood farewell, Jason began to walk away.
“Wait, wh- how, w-where the hell are you going?” Tim threw his arms out and gestured to the sprawling city around them. “We don’t even know where Damian is.”
“Yeah, we don’t,” Jason shrugged. “But I got a hunch and something else I need to do.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Taking a few steps forward, Tim scooped up some gravel and tossed it at Jason’s back. A few pieces pinged off of his helmet in a deeply satisfying manner. “And you’ve had a hunch this whole time? Why didn’t you tell us?”
Jason stopped and turned around as he reached the ledge of the roof, “I want to learn more about the organized crime group working out of Tokyo. My hunch is that by the time I’m done, you two will have found the Demon Brat.”
“So you’re just going to leave us to find him?” Tim stared at Jason accusingly.
“Oh of course not!” Jason held up his hands in vehement denial. “If we split up we can cover more ground. I’ll holler if I find him, I just wanna check something out on the way.”
“Wait!” Tim surged forward, but Jason was too far away. The latter swiftly unhooked his grapple gun and shot off, vanishing within seconds. “Seriously? The car wasn’t even that cramped!”
“Looks like it’s just me and you Timbo,” Turning around, Tim found Dick giving him the thumbs up and a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I got your back.”
“Thanks, but do you think Jason was right?” Tim walked to the ledge Jason leapt from and looked down at the cars below. “We could probably cover more ground if we split up, and we can just call it in over comms if we do.”
“Maybe,” Dick came and kneeled beside him. “Even then, Tokyo is a big city, we’d have to cover a lot of ground. Are you sure we shouldn’t’ve just stayed in the car?”
“Positive. Even if he isn’t, Damian always acts like he’s being followed. He never takes a direct route when he can and constantly turns down random streets. If we lose sight of him, he’s gone.”
Dick hummed in agreement.
Looking down, Tim tried to put his people watching skills to work while he thought of a way to find their wayward brother. He watched the flow of traffic, the patterns of pedestrians walking on the sidewalks, and the general appearances of those who traveled. But as he did so, something caught his eye.
“Uh... Dick?”
“Yeah?”
“Remember how B mentioned that Lord Death Man was based in Japan, and that he took on a protégé who was about Damian’s age?”
“Yeah, why?”
Tim stretched his arm out and pointed at something below them, “That girl on the Vespa is just a cosplayer right? Not, you know, a teenage supervillain just casually out for a late-night ride?”
Dick followed his line of sight and tensed, reaching for his phone and dialing Barbara’s number. After a few moments she picked up and Dick put her on speaker.
“Hey Babs, I’m here with Tim, can you pull up the files on Lord Death Man’s protégé.”
“Uh yeah give me a second,” Keys could be heard clacking in the background as she searched through her computer. “I got her, Flatline. What do you need to know?”
“Tell me what she looks like.”
“About 15-16 years old, white hair, gray skin, pink eyes. She has a skull painted on her face in makeup and wears black clothes with skeleton motifs. Why?”
“Uh...” Dick and Tim looked at each other. The girl on the vespa was definitely not a cosplayer. “No reason.”
“Dick, I swear to God if you go on a sidequest-”
“Thanks Babs, you’re the best. Bye!” Summarily hanging up on her, Dick pocketed the phone and stood, offering a hand to his brother.
Tim took the hand and asked, “We’re following her?”
“We’re following her.” Dick nodded.
As the light turned green and Flatline’s Vespa began to move, the two trailed behind her. Racing across the rooftops, they made liberal usage of their grapple gun and soared through the air. Oddly enough, Flatline didn’t draw much attention despite her less than subtle appearance. Evidently, the cosplayer excuse must work.
“So,” Dick started after a few minutes. “Should we ask any of the Batman Inc. members in Tokyo what they know about Flatline or if they’ve seen Damian?”
“Nah, I don’t want anyone else to get involved,” Tim vaulted over an HVAC unit and aimed his grapple gun at a tall building across the upcoming street. “Most of the info on her should be in the Batcomputer, but it’s a little odd that she’s just riding around. Plus, just investigating Flatline isn’t reason enough for us to be in Japan. If Jiro starts asking questions, us saying that we’re here because our brother is a weeb and blows all his money on manga isn’t going to cut it.”
“We could probably come up with something,” Dick swung across the gap and performed his signature triple somersault before he landed. “But the less people who know we’re in Tokyo the better.”
Soon enough, Flatline pulled over in front of what was apparently her hideout.
“Apparently” was the operative word here. Hiding in plain sight was one thing, but setting up a base in an arcade that was lit up brighter than the sun was something else entirely. The brothers shared a look with each other and shrugged. Then again, it could be much worse. Just about anything was preferable to another one of the Joker’s clown houses or tracking Killer Croc through Gotham’s sewers.
Dropping down to the street after waiting for a moment, they went through the front door after scanning the perimeter and finding no better entrance. Inside was nothing outwardly suspicious, just an array of various arcade games and posters, but it paid to be cautious.
“Wait,” Dick held up his hand once they walked inside.
Reaching behind his back, he pulled out a Batarang and threw it at a large figure in the dark. It bounced off of something metallic and landed harmlessly on the floor. A pair of red electronic eyes lit up and a hulking mechanical beast stepped forward.
“What the hell is that?” Tim asked, readying himself and extending his bo staff.
“A trap,” Dick drew his escrima sticks and the two began to circle around the robot.
The machine drew a large sword and charged, forcing the two to dive out of the way. It was covered in thick metal spiked plates, reminiscent of a stylized version of samurai armor.
“Any way to defeat this thing?” Tim ducked as its sword sailed overhead, casting a wide arc of destruction as it cut through the surrounding machinery. He flanked around to the machine’s right and put distance between them, Dick likewise doing the same. “It looks like a giant Ogre.”
Seemingly having decided on its course of action, the robot locked its gaze on Tim and charged. It moved faster than Tim could’ve anticipated and swung its sword in a heavy blow down. Tim dodged and barely deflected the sword from grazing him with his staff, shedding sparks that bounced off of the robot’s metal arm. Yanking the sword from the floorboards, it cast an diagonal cut upwards that forced Tim back and into a row of arcade games.
But then, seemingly out of nowhere, the robot made a weird nose and collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. From deeper within the building, a friendly voice called out, “Hey, are you okay?”
“I’m fine Dick!” Tim called back, standing and dusting himself off. Retrieving his staff and giving the robot a firm nudge for good measure, he stepped over its body and walked over to where Dick was.
“Take a look at this,” Dick pointed with one escrima stick. Tim followed his line of sight and found the other stick buried in the glass of a game machine. Looking slightly up, the game was called “Oni.” Next to it was the same red orc-ish face that the robot was adorned with.
“Huh,” The two walked closer to it. “Nice shot Dick.”
“Thanks,” Reaching forward, Dick tugged the stick out of the display and sheathed it on his back. Turning around, he put a hand on his hip, “If we wanna find Flatline we should probably look for a hidden door, I doubt we could just use the stairs.”
“Yeah, I was thinking we should look- WOAH!”
Out of nowhere the floor opened up beneath them and sent them falling. Landing roughly on the ground, they stood and found themselves in the middle of a hideout. All around them were bright screens and neon signs decorated with anything macabre. But that wasn’t what caught their eyes.
Rather, it was the massive throne of skulls and bones in the center of the room, and the villainess who sat on it.
Looking rather annoyed at the sudden intrusion, she placed the manga issue she was reading on the seat of the throne and stepped forward. Flatline cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes at them, “Well you aren’t the Batboys I expected.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” Tim drew his bo staff once again and readied himself for a fight, Dick likewise doing the same. “How can we help?”
“Probably by leaving,” Flatline picked at her nails. “I’m expecting a rather important guest soon and I’m not going to let you two rain on our parade.”
“I think you’ll have to cancel your plans,” Dick twirled his escrima sticks and flanked her, Tim mirroring him and likewise doing the same.
The sound of heavy boots landing on the ground alerted them to someone entering through the trapdoor they fell in, albeit more gracefully.
“Flatline! Are you okay?” The voice was that of the absolute last person they anticipated. Tim whipped his head around to find Damian sprinting towards them in full costume, drawn sword in one hand and… a skull-themed tote bag in the other?
“Damian?” Tim’s voice was high enough to break glass. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” The look of utter confusion present on Damian’s face could only be matched by the time Jason tried to explain what a skibidi toilet was to him. Damian’s head tilted towards Dick and he took a step back. “Nightwing?”
As if things couldn’t get better, another person decided to join in.
“Hey guys I found the brat,” Jason casually strolled in like he was about to order a McFlurry, stopping once he saw the current situation. “Wait- Flatline? Brat? ”
“Hood?” The three said in unison.
“Uh…” Tim shifted about awkwardly.
Jason’s head moved as he looked first to Damian, next to Flatline, and lastly down at the tote bag in Damian’s hand. Then, like any normal person would, he started cackling like a madman.
“Oh my God, Rose wasn’t lying.” The mighty Red Hood doubled over and clutched his sides, stumbling into a pillar and having to hold on to keep standing. “No! No way!”
“Hood,” Damian warned. “Not another word.”
“Oh no this is too good,” Wiping a tear from the corner of his eye on the outside of his helmet, Jason proceeded to walk back towards the trapdoor and angled his grapple gun at the top. Firing, he reeled himself up and left, but not before calling out, “Good luck Demon Brat, you’re gonna need it!”
Shifting his gaze back to the villainess in front of them, Tim watched as Flatline rested a hand on her hip and pointed at Damian accusingly, “You didn’t tell me your brothers would be in town.”
Damian raised his hands in defense, “I didn’t know they’d be in either.”
“Wait, how do you know we’re siblings?” Tim’s eyes darted between Flatline and Damian in suspicion, looking down at the tote bag and finally to the manga on the seat of the throne. He pointed at Damian, “And what are you doing here?”
Tick
Tick
Tick
Ding!
“Oh hell no, you two cannot be dating.”
Flatline smiled awkwardly and shrugged, “Surprise!”
“Aw Damian, I’m so happy for you!” Dick rushed forward and seized Damian in a hug, to which Tim buried his face in his hands. “I was wondering when you’d find someone.”
“Dick,” Tim rubbed his temples as the mother of all migraines began to hit. “Now is not the time.”
“Nah,” Flatline pointed to Dick with finger guns. “This guy gets it.”
“Tt.” Damian hugged Dick back in what was probably the stiffest embrace Tim had ever seen. “Thank you, Richard. Now will you two please leave?”
Dick stepped away and beamed at Damian, “Of course, have fun you two!”
“No no no hold on,” Tim held up his hands as his brain stuttered and stopped from the information overload. “Where in the hell did you two meet?”
“Do you remember when I went to the Lazarus Tournament after Alfred died?”
“Yeah, why?” A beat. “Jesus Damian, that was like a year ago.”
“It ended on this day, actually.” Flatline chimed in. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at them. “We were trying to enjoy our anniversary but it seems you people had other plans. Now you have about 30 seconds to get out before I blast K-pop over the 360-degree surround sound stereos.”
“Okay, we’re going, we’re going,” Tim held up his hands to placate them. “But Damian, does B know about this?”
“Yeah,” Damian deadpanned as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I told him.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Why didn’t you ask?”
Tim blinked, Damian blinked, then Tim did the best thing he could.
“Alright, I don’t have caffeine for this shit, I’m leaving.”
Damian sighed, Flatline snorted, and Dick cackled like a madman.
Yeah, maybe they shouldn't have gone into his room to begin with.