Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ever since I could remember, there’s always been a voice in my head. Sometimes, it mimicked my thoughts, blending right into my mind like it belonged there. Other times, it felt completely separate, distinct,—like someone else entirely.

That voice has been with me since birth. It guided me, taught me things before I even had the chance to learn them. It explained the meanings of words I didn’t know yet, and helped me deal with people when I couldn’t be bothered to figure it out myself. Especially when I was lost, not that I'd admit it.

During every brutal training session, that voice was there. It pushed me harder, made me stronger, and in a way, it became my only real comfort second best to Jason of course. I trusted it and Jason more than anyone else. When I finally asked for its name, it said “Aquila.” Weird, right? But something about it felt ancient, like it was meant to be. “It means eagle,” she told me.

Aquila claimed she was a part of me—a fragment of my soul given a voice. Ridiculous. But at the same time... maybe not. 

At first, knowing there was a female voice witnessing everything was unsettling. But over time, I got used to it. After all, we’re the same person—just different sides of the same coin.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

The alarm pierced through the quiet, dragging me from sleep. Groaning, I rolled over and slapped it off. Way too early . I pushed myself up, rubbing my face, still half-asleep, and shuffled toward the bathroom. Teeth brushed, I sank into an ice-cold bath. The shock hit hard, jolting me fully awake, but it did the job.

This routine has become my life since I moved here. Aquila always insisted it was fine to rest, but I didn’t agree. If I slacked off, I’d end up like Tim, and that was not an option. Speaking of which— Where was Aquila? She was unusually quiet today.

"Hey, Aquila, you're weirdly quiet," I muttered under my breath.

Usually, she's there—always there—guiding me on how to deal with my brothers, reminding me to build those connections and embrace this whole family thing America obsesses over. But today, there was only silence. No nagging, no instructions.

Ting.

Finally, her voice. Relax, I’ll keep watch today. Odd, but I didn’t push. For once, I could lower my guard.

I headed downstairs, and before I even entered the dining room, the sound of laughter hit me— their laughter. They acted like a real family.

When I stepped in, all eyes flicked to me, the usual awkwardness. Pathetic, I ignored them, heading to my seat without a word, picking up my utensils. 

"Alfred, when is Baba coming to get me?" I asked, eager for an answer.

The butler smiled warmly at me. "Good morning, Master Damian. Master Jason will be arriving tonight to fetch you."

A glimmer of happiness crossed my face, which Alfred noticed. His smile softened as he set breakfast in front of me. "Thank you," I said quietly, as I began eating my waffles with proper form.

Though I couldn't help but wonder what was up with Aquila. Normally, she'd push for me to engage with them. She always wanted us to be part of the family. But the awkwardness never faded, and they never seemed to want me around. 

“You’re not going to tell me to engage with them?” I asked her silently, half-joking.

Aunt Cain took a seat beside me, with Uncle Thomas following shortly after. They were the few who actually treated me like family. Cass placed a gentle hand on my back, her touch oddly comforting. "Everything okay, baby bat?" she asked with that soft smile of hers.

I scoffed, trying to mask the warmth that flickered inside me. "I’m fine."

Ting. Aquila nudged me to talk. I rolled my eyes. "Did you sleep well, Aunty Cain?" I asked, halfway through a spoonful of waffles.

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Just aunty Cass, Damian,” she corrected gently, still smiling. “And yes, I slept well.”

I gave her a curt nod, a faint smile betraying me. I hated how much I didn’t mind the nicknames. But they couldn’t know that.

The room’s energy shifted when Father walked in. Normally, Aquila would nudge me to greet him, to stick to formalities. But today—nothing. "Aquila?" I asked, concern lacing my thoughts.

Father’s glance flicked to me but said nothing as he took his seat. Everyone greeted him warmly, while I finished my breakfast quickly and stood abruptly. "I’m done. I’ll be going."

Before I could leave, Drake’s voice cut through the room. "Can’t we get through one family breakfast without someone throwing a hissy fit?"

I paused, glaring over my shoulder, but held my tongue for once.

Drake, still worried about being replaced after finding out I was Father’s biological son. Still fighting for his place, ever since Jason re-entered the picture. But he should know by now—I didn’t care about Robin, and Father meant nothing to me. Only Jason did. My Baba. My Anki. I didn’t need anyone else.

I left the dining room, walking calmly down the hall. Once I was sure no one was following, I slipped into my room and shut the door behind me. "Aquila, tell me what’s really wrong," I asked, a hint of concern in my voice.

Ting. Her voice came through, quieter this time. I was just wondering... would they still love us if they found out I existed?

I scoffed aloud. Seriously? This was her big concern? Ting. It’s not trivial! she snapped defensively in my thoughts. 

Yes, it is. If this family truly loved us, they'd accept every part of us, Aquila included. Jason had accepted us.

Ting. That’s different, she whined. He’s like a father to us, Damian! Of course, he accepted us!

I rolled my eyes and muttered aloud, uncaring of my tone. “Don’t be stupid. There are plenty of fathers who don’t accept their kids.” I walked over to my desk, grabbed my sketchbook and pencil, and flopped onto my bed, sketching as I continued the debate.

Ting. They might think we’re crazy...

“Pfft, let them. I don’t care, and neither should you.”

Ting. Damian... Aquila’s voice softened, sounding defeated. I sighed, putting down my pencil.

“Look, they’re family. I know it’ll hurt if they don’t accept us, but there’s nothing we can do about that. If they care about us like Jason does, then they'll accept us for who we are. If not, we can just tell Baba, and we never have to see them again.” I smirked slightly, oddly satisfied with the thought.

Ting. Aquila sighed, finally relenting. Fine. Thank you, Damian...

“eali alrahub walsaeah,” I replied softly, switching to Arabic. [=Your Welcome]

The cry of a baby startled me awake. Confusion crashed over me like a wave. Why the hell am I so small and wrinkly? My gaze dropped to my tiny, pudgy hands. Are these... baby hands? And then, it hit me—metaphorically, of course.

I’ve reincarnated.

I strained to move my head, scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. The room was tastefully decorated, though something felt amiss. Where are the soft pastel baby colours? I thought, unimpressed.

Ugh, this body. Why isn’t anyone coming? The thought barely crossed my mind when footsteps echoed just beyond the door—the sharp clack of heels on stone floors. Moments later, the door creaked open, and light from the corridor flooded in. My eyes squinted against the sudden brightness. A figure stood in the doorway.

Is she my mother?

The crying ceased immediately as I instinctively reached out to her. She stepped closer, her presence filling the room. Green eyes, fair brown skin, and sleek, straight hair—there was a quiet grace about her. She rocked me gently, her voice soft as she whispered, "Habibi, why are you crying?" Her words carried warmth, and she patted my small body in a soothing rhythm. A soft, needy sound escaped my lips, and my little fingers clung tightly to her shirt.

For a brief moment, she looked startled. What’s wrong? I panicked, then realised— wait, this could be a sign of breastfeeding! Crap... 

A soft smile replaced her bewilderment. “You must be hungry, Damian,” she murmured.I realised I was and let out a small whine in response, and she seemed to understand immediately. Sitting down on the bed, she began to nurse me, humming a gentle tune. As I fed, my eyes grew heavy, a yawn forcing its way out. 

Before long, she laid me back in the crib. My body was ready to surrender to sleep, but I fought against it. I don’t want to let go! A soft whine escaped me as I clung to her clothing again. Instead of pulling away, she lay down beside me, wrapping me in her arms. “Fast asleep, Habibi,” she whispered, placing a hand on my head, her fingers brushing softly against my cheek. “Tomorrow, we’ll get your anki ...”

Anki? The word lingered in my mind, puzzling me.

Then suddenly, I was somewhere else.

A dream. But not just any dream. I looked down— I’m back in my original body. What does this mean? I wandered through long hallways illuminated by shifting, reanimated scenes. No memories of this place, of this body. Is this... Damian’s memories?

A long pause. The realisation hit me hard. These are the memories of Damian Wayne. I gasped, and the ground beneath me crumbled, dropping away into a yawning abyss.

With a sharp breath, I woke up—back in the crib. I blinked, heart racing. Dammit... I’m going to live a hellish life, aren’t I?

Chapter Text

I cringed at the memory of the DC comic I had read years ago. I knew alternate universes existed, but never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be reincarnated into one of the most tragic backstories. I glanced around after a brief moment of weakness and saw my mother dressing. Now that I think about it, how do I understand Arabic? I’m certain I never learned it in my past life. Maybe it’s this baby brain...

Instinctively, my tiny body reached out toward her, whining. Talia, who had already noticed I was awake, walked over and lifted me with such gentleness, treating me as if I were made of porcelain, as if I could break with the slightest touch. My body moved on its own, smiling at her and cooing, completely beyond my control. She seemed pleased, showering my face with kisses. "My sweet baby boy." Damian giggled, his wide smile lighting up his face like heaven itself.

“Let’s get you a bath, habibi,” she cooed, before summoning a servant with an air of superiority. The maid, trembling in her presence, hurried to prepare the bath without daring to look up. Talia turned back to me, her demeanour softening. How could someone switch from intimidating to tender so effortlessly?

Talia placed me on the bed, removing the onesie I had been wearing. Soon after, the maid returned and, with a trembling voice, informed her, "My lady, the bath is prepared." Talia hummed dismissively, and the servant scurried away.

After a long bath, my mother dried me, powdered me with baby powder, and wrapped me in a soft blanket. "You’re so adorable, habibi," she murmured, sealing her words with a kiss on my nose. Despite everything, it felt strangely comforting to be loved by her—even if she was a skilled assassin named Talia.

My thoughts were interrupted by a male voice coming from a screen on the wall, one I hadn’t noticed before. “Miss Talia, as requested, the private jet to Gotham is ready." Wait, Gotham? Isn’t the League of Assassins supposed to avoid Batman? “Perfect. Have you located Jason Todd yet?” Talia’s voice took on a serious tone. “Red Robin?” the man asked for confirmation. “Yes,” she replied. “Not yet, Miss. Our men haven’t reported back. It’s possible he’s killing them.” His tone was filled with frustration.

Jason? Could she mean that Jason? I was startled, but my stomach rumbled in protest. I was starving, and here she was talking endlessly. Sensing my discomfort, Talia cut the conversation short. “Let’s finish this quickly. Damian is hungry.” The man acknowledged, “Of course, Miss Talia. I’ll update you when we locate him.”

Finally! I let out a babble of relief. I was about to be fed! “Let’s go meet your akhi , my son,” she said, snapping her fingers as assassins emerged from the shadows. Where did they come from? Wait, have they been here the whole time?

Outside, a private jet awaited us. The servants bowed as we approached, taking her suitcases and stowing them safely. Damian’s eyes gleamed with excitement as we boarded the luxurious aircraft. Talia ensured that only female attendants were present, preventing any uncomfortable gazes from lingering.

"Baa!" I babbled again, hoping to communicate just how hungry I was. My brows furrowed in frustration. Talia giggled at my expression, "You look just like your father," she whispered, though I didn’t quite understand her meaning. "Let’s feed you while we prepare for takeoff," she added, nursing me as the jet’s engines hummed to life. The change in pressure made my ears ache until the feeding eased the discomfort.

Before long, my eyelids grew heavy. No! I cursed this baby body for betraying me, and then everything went dark...

When I opened my eyes again, I was sitting on a hill surrounded by a field of flowers. The breeze gently swayed my wings, which were back, flapping behind me. Tanned skin, my old garments—it was my body, but younger. “A dream?” I mused aloud, only to be startled by my own voice, high-pitched and squeaky. “Great, I sound like I swallowed a squeaky toy…”

As I explored the field, I noticed a figure nearby, unaware of my presence. I took a step toward him, but the ground gave way beneath me, sending me tumbling down the hill. “Shit!” I yelped as I rolled to the bottom, scattering flower petals in every direction. By the time I regained my bearings, the figure had disappeared. Just as I was about to panic, a face popped up in front of me. "Who are you?" the boy asked.

“Uh, excuse me?” I replied, startled. "You heard me!" he demanded. As I looked him over, I realized… could this be Jason? “Why are you still in your Robin suit?” I asked, squinting at him. He glanced down at himself, cursing. “Dammit!” He tugged at his cape in frustration, trying to remove it. I snickered. "Nice underwear, dork."

“Stop stalling! Answer my question!” Jason insisted. “My name is… Eagle!” I blurted out before mentally kicking myself. “Eagle?” Jason echoed, unimpressed. "I mean Aquila…" I corrected. “That’s an even weirder name,” he said. “Yeah, yeah, thanks, dork,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

I sat back down on the hill, and Jason plopped down beside me. “Why do you seem… more alive?” he asked, staring at the horizon. "Well, that’s because I am alive," I replied sarcastically. Silence fell between us as I debated whether to tell him about the League. Screw it, I’ll just do it. “Hey, Jason,” I said. “Yeah, what?” he replied. “The League is coming for you,” I stated bluntly.

Jason’s eyes narrowed. "Why and how do you know that?" His tone was defensive. “Because Talia is coming for you,” I continued. "Talia?" he interrupted. “SHH, let me finish!" I scolded, irritated. "She’s coming because she needs you to be a father figure.”

Jason’s eyes widened. “Is she dropping a kid on me?!” he asked, horrified. "No... I don’t know! But she did mention finding my akhi ,” I added, realisation dawning on Jason’s face. “Wait... She lied about her miscarrige, right?” 

Before I could respond, Jason stood abruptly and suddenly he vanished, leaving me alone on the hill. “Shit,” I muttered. “I forgot people forget their dreams when they wake up.” Resigning myself, I sighed and watched the sunset, my wings flapping lazily behind me. "I wonder if I’ll ever live a good life..." I mused, contemplating my fate.

Suddenly, the world shifted, and a bright light assaulted Damian's eyes. He let out a small groan, stretching his limbs as he squirmed against the tightness of the swaddle that had confined him. Dayum, he thought with a childish frustration, too young to express more than the faintest of discomforts.

Talia al Ghul’s eyes softened as she gazed down at him. A warm, motherly smile curved her lips, the kind of affection that Damian had begun to instinctively crave. She cradled him closer, wrapping him in her warmth as she gently swayed. 

“Hey, sleepyhead,” she murmured in a voice filled with tenderness, pressing her cheek against his small forehead. The gentle rhythm of her movements soothed him, and Damian's tiny fists unclenched, his body relaxing into the embrace.

In these moments, he felt safe, wrapped in the kind of love and care only a mother could provide. His heart fluttered with a sense of comfort that filled his small chest, and a soft smile tugged at his lips. He reached up, his fingers brushing her face as he babbled softly.

“It’s feeding time, my son,” Talia cooed, and with practised ease, she began to nurse him. The physical closeness only deepened the bond between them. Damian’s tiny eyes fluttered, focusing on her face as he drank, the soothing rhythm of her heartbeat matching the comfort he felt.

Once he had finished, she lifted him into her arms again, playing small games with his fingers, tapping his nose lightly with her own, eliciting giggles from the tiny boy. His laughter was bright, his smile wide with surprise as he delighted in the attention she showered upon him. Talia’s heart swelled with love, her own eyes shining with maternal joy.

But their tender moment was interrupted. A servant appeared, bowing deeply as he entered the room. “Madam al Ghul,” he said in a low, respectful tone, speaking in rapid Arabic.

Talia’s demeanour shifted instantly, her once soft and loving expression replaced with an icy coldness. The assassin within her surfaced, her sharp eyes narrowing as she turned to face the man. Her body straightened, every movement now precise and controlled, the warmth she had shown to her son gone as if it had never been.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice clipped, sending a chill through the air.

The servant swallowed nervously, bowing lower as he spoke. “I am sorry to disturb you, but we have received word. He has located Jason Todd, and we are monitoring his movements.”

A flicker of relief crossed Talia’s face, though she quickly suppressed it, maintaining her composure. “Good,” she responded coolly, her tone betraying no emotion. “How long until we arrive in Gotham?”

“Approximately three hours, Madam,” the servant replied, still keeping his head bowed.

With a curt nod, she dismissed him. As soon as he was gone, Talia’s face softened again as she turned her attention back to Damian. She pulled him closer, her lips brushing against his forehead as she whispered, “Soon, my son, soon.”

She gazed out of the window, watching as the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon. “You will have a better life than I did,” she promised, her voice filled with quiet determination. The weight of her past hung heavy in her words, but Damian, sensing only the comfort of her touch, gurgled happily.

“Mahh,” he babbled, his innocent smile melting Talia’s heart once more. She stroked the back of his tiny head, feeling the soft down of his hair under her fingertips, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to imagine a future where her son would be free from the burdens she had carried.

As the jet began its descent, Talia nursed him once more, careful to keep him calm as the pressure change threatened to upset his sensitive ears. Damian, however, was perfectly content, lulled into a state of contentment by the food and warmth of his mother’s presence. He snuggled deeper into her embrace, his small body relaxing completely.

When the plane landed, Talia stood, adjusting her robe and cradling Damian close as they disembarked. She was flanked by assassins, their presence a silent reminder of the dangerous world in which she lived. But with Damian in her arms, she felt invincible.

As the car ride to their destination began, Damian stared out of the window, his wide blue eyes taking in the unfamiliar sights. Everything was new to him—bright lights, towering buildings, the strange hum of the city below. Talia watched him closely, her heart swelling with pride at how curious and observant he was, even at such a young age.

She moved with the grace of a commander, her eyes sharp as she gave a curt order. "Give me an update on Jason Todd," she demanded, her voice stern and unwavering. "Of course, Miss Talia. Red Robin was found by the Bat, but he escaped swiftly. He’s now hiding atop a church," one of her men replied. ”Very well, that’s all,” she said, and the car glided forward. The drive was short, just five minutes, before they reached their destination.

“Damian, my heart,” she whispered, her voice soft, “I need you to be good for mama tonight, okay?” She kissed his forehead gently, smiling as he babbled in response. His tiny hand reached for her again, and she held it, her fingers dwarfing his.

When they arrived at the church, Talia’s expression hardened once more. Her assassin’s mask slid back into place as she deftly climbed the building, Damian hidden securely beneath her cloak. She moved silently, scaling the structure with practised ease, her breath steady, her focus unshakable. The only sound was the soft rustle of her robes in the night air.

At the top of the building, Jason Todd stood, his back turned, unaware of her presence. He was reminiscing with the bandage that covered his face on hand, his body tense with the residual energy of the recent fight. Talia’s eyes narrowed as she approached, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

“It is impressive that you have evaded the Batman for this long,” she said, her tone smooth, her voice cold yet tinged with admiration.

Jason spun around, his muscles coiled like a spring. She stepped closer, her movements slow and deliberate. “But no one evades the League,” she added, a hint of pride creeping into her voice.

Jason smirked, his lips curling upward in defiance. “That remains to be seen,” he shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “When you’re trained by the old bat you learn a thing or two,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a detonator, holding it up triumphantly. ”-or three”

He pressed the button, but nothing happened. His smirk faltered, confusion flashing across his face as he pressed it again, harder this time.

“Like how to cover your six with hidden explosives?” Talia raised an eyebrow as she tossed a set of deactivated explosives to the ground. The metallic clatter echoed through the air, making Jason’s eyes widen in realisation. He had been outplayed.

Talia scoffed, walking confidently to the center of the church roof. "Please.” she said coolly, her voice tinged with amusement. “I am a commander of the League of Assassins, the daughter of Ra’s al Ghul.”

Jason’s expression darkened, anger flickering in his eyes. He drew his knife and leveled his gun at her, his muscles taut with frustration. “I know who your family is , Talia” he spat, venom in his voice. “In fact, I found a special file on the bat computer all about you. Read like a cheap romance novel.”

Talia’s expression softened ever so slightly. "I’ll take that as proof that my beloved still cares," she murmured, her voice quiet yet clear.

Her voice dropped, becoming almost a whisper, as she took another step forward. “TBut I will wager that his files do not include this small detail.” she said, her tone softer now, filled with an unexpected vulnerability.

She reached beneath her cloak and revealed Damian, still swaddled in his blanket, his eyes wide with curiosity as he looked around. The rustling of the fabric woke him from his half-slumber, and he blinked up at Jason, confused.

Jason’s defences crumbled instantly. His eyes locked onto the baby in Talia’s arms, shock and disbelief washing over his face. He couldn’t process what he was seeing.

Talia cradled Damian, her voice soothing. "Hush now, Damian," she whispered gently, her fingers brushing against his cheek. Jason stood frozen, his mind reeling from the revelation before him.

"Do you recognize your brother?" Talia asked softly, as the baby, Damian, cooed for his mother. her voice barely above a whisper. She watched as Jason’s eyes darted between her and Damian, his mind struggling to make sense of what he was seeing. His hand trembled, lowering his weapon.

Talia’s gaze softened as she looked down at her son. “Damian has his father’s eyes don’t you think?,” she said quietly, her voice full of emotion. Appalled by this new information, his face is still in shock as his focus is on the infant “Your adoptive father that is.” Jason’s eyes met Talia’s again still with a lingering frown.

Jason’s face twisted in confusion and anger. His grip tightened on his knife. “hi-,hi-... his files said—” he started, but Talia cut him off.

“That I lost our child before he was born,” she finished for him. “That was a lie. A lie I told Bruce so he wouldn’t have to choose between our two families.”

Her voice cracked as she spoke, the weight of her past decisions heavy on her heart. Jason’s expression shifted from anger to something else—betrayal. He felt like the ground had been pulled out from beneath him.

Jason was silent, his mind racing, but one thing was clear in his eyes. He was lost.

Talia finished the sentence for him. "That I lost our child before birth? A lie I told Bruce so he wouldn’t have to choose between our two families." Her voice was laced with sorrow as she gazed at her son.

"So that he would return to you, Jason." She let her words sink in, her expression soft but unyielding. Jason looked conflicted, his heart and mind at war with each other.

Talia continued, her voice filled with a quiet pain. "After Bosnia, when I nearly lost you to my father’s dealings, Bruce made it clear that our ties were broken. Forever."

Jason’s eyes hardened as he spoke bitterly. "Trust me, you dodged a bullet losing Batdad." His voice dripped with venom, the scars from recent events still raw.

Talia pressed on, her tone more earnest now. "The son of Batman needs a father figure. Who better to raise him than his brother?"

Jason immediately recoiled, defensiveness rising. "Whoa, lady. Look, I—"

"You need a family, Jason," Talia interrupted, desperation creeping into her voice. "You need a family." 

Jason shook his head, his refusal immediate. "Nope. Never again."

Undeterred, Talia stepped closer, forcing Jason to take a step back. "The House of Ra’s al Ghul’s interests run parallel to your own," she said, her words calculated.

Jason raised his weapons again, his instinct for self-preservation kicking in. "Let’s agree to disagree."

Talia’s expression sharpened. "We can use the League’s resources to find the Joker."

That caught Jason’s attention. His weapons lowered slightly. Talia seized the moment. 

"Joker crossed the line—with Barbara, with you, with my father," she said, her voice turning bitter. "And Batman will never do what must be done for those transgressions." “ We. Will. ”

She extended her hand, Damian nestled carefully in her other arm. Jason hesitated, his thoughts racing. After a tense moment, he sheathed his weapons and shook her hand.

A deal had been made.

Jason looked down at Damian, the baby now gazing up at him curiously. A small smile crept onto Jason’s face, a twisted mix of emotions swirling in his mind. Talia, watching the exchange, smiled too, her pride and love for her son evident.

As thunder rumbled overhead, Talia handed Damian to Jason. The baby blinked in surprise, not used to being held by anyone other than his mother. His tiny hand reached out, touching the "R" symbol on Jason’s chest, fascinated by the texture.

Jason held his baby brother protectively, a smirk playing on his lips, as dark thoughts began to form in his mind.

Talia said what she knew I needed to hear. I’ll take any path to Joker I can get, but the truth is, she had me at Damian. The son. Batdad ran off and spawned while I was home alone.

Yeah, that stung a little. So the chance to twist that kid against Bruce and his mother to use him to burn down the house of Wayne and al ghul from the inside. I guess I am destined for family life after all. Oh Damian, my brother, you’re gonna be alright, I’m gonna get you all fixed up . 

Chapter Text

The sun streamed into the room, casting a bright beam across the infant’s bed, directly into his eyes. Damian whimpered, stretching his tiny limbs. Why am I up so early... Aquila groaned internally as the baby’s body squirmed beneath the sheets.

The young boy's eyes blinked open, searching instinctively for his mother. Wait...where’s mom? Panic bubbled up inside him. His chest tightened, and before he could process it, tears spilled from his eyes. A piercing wail echoed through the house.

Footsteps thundered down the hallway, heavy and hurried. The sound only made Damian cry louder, his face flushing red with fear. The door swung open, and Jason rushed in, scanning the room. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft but urgent. Scooping Damian up with rough, yet gentle hands, he cradled the infant close. Immediately, the sobs ceased, replaced with a soft coo.

Jason felt an unexpected surge of warmth, a subtle dopamine hit. He’s so small, he marvelled, a smile tugging at his lips. Damian gazed up at him, the remnants of tears on his cheeks, then flashed a wide grin. Act cute, act cute!

“Well, seems it’s just us today, little man.” Jason sniffed and then gagged. “Ugh, rude. You peed, didn’t you?” Damian giggled, delighted by his big brother’s reaction. “Yup, let’s get you changed.”

Damian watched curiously as Jason grabbed a list from the counter. Woah, that’s long. Did mom write that? The baby reached out, tiny fingers grasping at the paper, intrigued.

Jason ignored the grabby hands and filled a baby tub in the sink, checking the water’s temperature. Once satisfied, he stripped the child down. This is so embarrassing! Aquila groaned within Damian’s mind. His discomfort was mirrored in the infant’s whine as Jason gently bathed him.

“Shh, it’s alright, Damian,” Jason soothed, carefully washing the baby, despite Damian’s stubborn grip on his finger. “Hey, come on! I need to bathe you, not play tug-of-war,” he complained, attempting to pry his finger free. Damian only giggled and swung his chubby arms, enjoying the struggle. Heh, that’s what you get for gagging at me!

After the bath, Jason dressed Damian in an adorable bear onesie. “Oh my god, why do you look so cute?” Jason exclaimed, lifting the baby with a proud smile. Damian puffed out his tiny chest, basking in the compliment, then snuggled closer to Jason. 

Jason’s expression softened as he held the baby, his thoughts briefly drifting to his life before he’d been taken in by Bruce. A shadow crossed his face. Who are you glaring at? Damian sensed the shift and whined in Jason’s arms. I’m starving!

The teen snapped out of it, realising he hadn’t fed the baby yet. “Oh, right, milk. Let’s get you some food,” he murmured, carrying Damian to the kitchen. Wait, Aquila pondered from within, Since Jason is supposed to be my father figure, does that mean I get to call him Dad? Damian remained unusually calm as they moved. I do feel safe with him...even if I know his ulterior motives.

Jason retrieved a bottle and fed Damian, the baby’s hunger silenced as he greedily drank the milk. A satisfied smirk tugged at Jason’s lips as Damian’s tiny stomach bulged. “Pfft, you look full,” he teased, placing Damian on his shoulder to burp him. The baby let out a small but forceful burp. “Big burp!” Jason chuckled, but Damian shot him a mildly offended look.

Settling down on the couch, Jason switched on the TV. “So, what do you wanna watch?” Damian blinked up at him. I dunno, man. Something for babies? Damian squirmed contentedly, not caring what played. Jason flipped through the channels until the news came on, and his mood immediately darkened.

“Breaking news: Joker has escaped Arkham Asylum. Footage shows Black Mask breaking into the facility—”

Jason’s blood boiled. His grip tightened on the remote as his rage surged. How did Batman let this happen?! He flicked off the TV, standing abruptly. The sudden movement startled Damian, who let out a sharp cry. Holy hell, warn me next time!

Jason glanced down at the baby, his face twisting with frustration. What am I supposed to do with him? He couldn’t leave Damian alone, and no one was around to watch him. Talia was out on Ra’s orders, and the servants had been dismissed due to his distrust.

Screw it. He’s coming with me. Jason popped a pacifier into Damian’s mouth, placing him in a playpen while he packed baby supplies. Damian’s eyes narrowed, offended by the makeshift cell. What the hell are you doing? He resorted to rolling around in protest before his eyes landed on a plush toy. Crawling with determined effort, Damian reached for it. Since when were there blue cats? He picked it up, hugging the soft toy close. You shall be named... Duke.

Before Damian could further plan the plush cat’s future, Jason scooped him up, placing him in a baby sling. Woah! Warning, please! Damian squirmed for a moment before settling, finding the carrier surprisingly comfortable. Jason smirked, satisfied with his work. “Alright, lil’ dude. Gotham needs us.”

Jason stood clad in his new identity as Red Hood , a suit he had cunningly appropriated from the Joker. This specially designed suit and helmet were meticulously modified to suit his unique needs and style.

Of course, he owed much of this transformation to Talia al Ghul, whose expertise and resources had been instrumental in crafting both the suit and his new path.

WHAT BUSINESS DOES AN INFANT OF MY AGE HAVE IN CRIME ALLEY?! Aquila screamed Damian glared out from his concealed spot, his head peeking from the baby holder Jason had strapped him into, snug against his chest. His wolf onesie—tail and all—did little to comfort the young Wayne as they careened through Gotham’s underworld. And the domino mask? In public? No less. Is this guy trying to get us killed?!

Jason, of course, was in his element. Guns blazing, gangsters screaming, and one very sour infant glaring daggers at his chest. He fired his dual pistols with expert precision, ducking behind crates as bullets whizzed past. “C’mon, you morons! Is that all you’ve got?” he taunted. The chaos was deafening, but thankfully, little Damian had earmuffs strapped securely over his tiny ears. Not that it stopped him from scrunching his face and burying it deeper into Jason’s jacket. Bleh, I don’t want to see blood and guts again.

Another thug charged at Jason, swinging wildly with a knife. Jason dodged, caught the guy’s arm, twisted the blade out of his hand, and returned the favour with a swift stab to the gut. The man fell to the ground, groaning in pain. Jason sneered. “Nice try, asshole.”

From somewhere in the warehouse, one of the gangsters' voices echoed, full of disbelief. “WHY IS HE FIGHTING WITH A BABY?!”

THAT'S WHAT I’M SAYING ! Aquila mentally screamed, giving Jason the sourest look his little baby face could muster.

“Why is he fighting… and winning?!” the gang leader bellowed. 

Ok, that's clearly just a skill issue on your part, Aquila mused dryly. 

“Keep shooting!” the leader barked.  

“But boss, what about the baby?!”

“It’s his own fault if the kid dies! No mercy!” the leader snarled. Jason’s expression darkened at those words, his eyes narrowing with disgust. These are the scumbags terrorising Gotham? he thought. No wonder the place is a mess.

Jason rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. “Alright. Enough playtime. Time to take out the trash.” He reloaded his guns, making sure Damian was snug and safe before diving back into the fray. He dodged another round of bullets with ease, purposely rolling to the ground, where he kicked the guns out of their hands and dispatched them with a few expertly aimed headshots.

Once the warehouse had fallen eerily silent, Jason holstered his guns. “Now, let’s see what these idiots were guarding,” he muttered to himself. He checked Damian first, brushing the baby’s cheek with his thumb. Damian was… asleep. Well, sort of. He was beginning to stir, a small whimper escaping his lips. Stop touching me! 

Jason sighed and placed the baby on top of a nearby crate, pulling out the diaper bag he carried with him on these “adventures.” 

“Let’s get you changed, huh?” he mumbled, his movements quick and precise as he expertly changed the diaper, powdering Damian’s tiny bottom before securing the fresh one in place. Damian blinked sleepily, his lips trembling, as if on the verge of crying. Ughhh I don’t wanna wake upppp Aquila whined internally.

Jason immediately pulled off his helmet, his face softening as he smiled down at his baby brother. “Woa woa, don’t worry, kid, it’s just me.” Damian’s eyes lit up at the sight of Jason’s face, and the tears instantly stopped as a big gummy grin spread across his little face. 

Jason chuckled. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He pulled out a warm bottle from the bag and held it up to Damian’s mouth. “Alright, bud, time for some milk.”

Damian’s eyes sparkled as his tiny hands reached eagerly for the bottle. “Bah-buhh,” Baba, give me that you little shit! stop taunting me! he babbled needily. Jason shook his head with a smirk. “Pfft, yeah yeah, hold on.”

As Damian eagerly gulped down the milk, Jason’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and immediately tensed. Talia.

Damian perked up at the sound of the name on Jason’s lips, babbling, “Mahh-muhhh!” Mama!

Jason hesitated before picking up. “Uh… heyy, Talia.” His voice dripped with guilt. 

“Jason,” Talia’s voice was cool and calm, but there was an edge of expectation. “Where is Damian?”

Ooo someone’s in troubleee , Aquila thought gleefully.

Jason winced. “He’s… here with me. Couldn’t leave him home alone, y’know?” Silence. 

Jason swallowed nervously. “He’s safe with me, I promise.” 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Talia sighed. “I trust you, Jason. But make sure you’re home by eight.”

“Will do,” Jason muttered, breathing a sigh of relief as she hung up. He pocketed his phone and turned back to Damian, who had finished his bottle and was now gazing up at him with sleepy eyes. 

“Alright, bud, back to work.” Jason strapped Damian back into his baby vest and started rummaging through the gang’s storage crates. After a few minutes of digging, he found what he’d been looking for—a missile launcher, sleek and heavy. 

“Just what I need,” Jason grinned, adding it to his inventory. 

As he prepared to head out, a noise from the shadows made him freeze. He turned his head, eyes narrowing beneath his helmet. Batman.

The Dark Knight emerged from the shadows, cape billowing dramatically behind him, his gaze immediately locking onto Damian. “Red Robin… whose baby is that?” His voice was a low growl. "I go by Red Hood now." Jason interrupted “You can’t just—”

Jason’s growl cut him off. “None of your business!” Without waiting for a response, he revved up his motorcycle and sped off, Damian blowing raspberries as they zoomed out into the night. 

Another successful night in Gotham’s underworld. With a baby in tow. Jason thought.

Jason weaved his motorcycle through the Gotham streets, Damian securely fastened in his baby sling, fast asleep with his little stuffed dog, Tiny , in his tiny fist. The roar of the engine was a lullaby to the boy, blissfully unaware of the chaos around him.

Jason smirked to himself, knowing Bruce was just a few streets back, probably pushing the Batmobile to its limits. But Jason wasn’t worried. Not this time.

His comm crackled, and Batman’s familiar voice broke through. Batman hacked his comms. shit.

“Jason, stop.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “You’re really killing the vibe, Bruce.”

“There’s a kid involved,” Bruce growled. “You need to think this through. Stop running.”

Jason leaned into a sharp turn, expertly avoiding a parked car. “ My kid, Bruce. Mine. You don’t need to worry about it.”

There was a pause. Jason could almost picture Bruce processing the information, trying to make sense of it. After all, he had to assume the baby was Jason’s. That thought amused Jason to no end.

“Jason, you’re not equipped for this. You don’t have to do this alone,” Bruce said, his tone softening. “Let me help you.”

Jason laughed bitterly. “Help me? Since when did you ever care about me like that? I don’t need your help. And I’m not alone. This baby? He’s mine, and he’s Talia’s. We’ve got it covered.”

“Jason, you’re not thinking clearly. Raising a child in the middle of this—whatever you’re involved in—isn’t safe,” Bruce pressed. His voice had that familiar mix of concern and command, the ‘Batdad’ mode Jason had grown to despise.

He clenched his jaw. “Safe? You want to lecture me about safety after everything you put me through? Talia and I are gonna raise him right— away from you, from Gotham, from everything you think you stand for.”

“Jason—” Bruce started, but Jason cut him off.

“This isn’t your problem, Bruce! He’s not your responsibility. He’s mine. ” Jason growled, speeding up as he neared a hidden alleyway. The bike’s engine roared as he darted through the narrow gap between buildings, losing Bruce in the labyrinth of Gotham’s backstreets.

Jason came to a stop, the quiet hum of the engine the only sound left in the darkness. He looked down at Damian, still peacefully asleep, completely unaware of the storm brewing around him.

“See, little guy? We don’t need him,” Jason whispered softly, his fingers gently brushing Damian’s hair. “You’ve got me and Talia. We’re all you need.” I agree actually, sorry Batman!

The comm remained silent for a moment, but Jason knew Bruce was still there, still listening. He could almost hear the frustration, the helplessness in his silence. 

Finally, Bruce spoke again, his voice low. “I know you think this is what’s best for him, Jason. But I’ve been there. I know what it’s like to be alone with this kind of responsibility. It’s... overwhelming.” Your ass is overwhelming, I’m a perfectly good non-overbearing baby! Aquila had felt offended over Bruce’s comment.

Jason clenched his fists, the old wounds opening up again. “You don’t know anything about what I need. Or what he needs. You couldn’t even avenge my death, and the Joker is now on the loose because you couldn’t do the one thing I would do for you if he ever killed you! You’re not doing that to him, nor me.”

He turned the bike, revving the engine. “You’re not needed here, Bruce. Talia and I have got this. Go back to your cave.”

With that, Jason sped off into the night, leaving Bruce behind. Damian stirred slightly in the sling, but Jason tightened his grip, reassuring the boy with his presence.

With a swift motion, Jason tore the communication device from his helmet, feeling a surge of defiance course through him. He crushed it violently in his grip, the sound of cracking plastic echoing in the night air, as he pressed it against his motorcycle’s frame. The remnants scattered on the asphalt, remnants of a life he was determined to leave behind. 

He couldn't shake the fear that Batman might be tracking him, and the thought only fueled his resolve to sever any remaining ties.

“We’ve got this, kid,” Jason muttered under his breath. “We don’t need him. We never did.”

"Finally," Jason thought as he safely made his way home, making sure there was no trace of him and that no one had followed. I second that, Baba. He got off his bike, pulling the baby bag from the storage compartment, and headed inside. The lights were still on, meaning Talia was awake, probably working late as usual. 

As Jason stepped into the living room, there she was—surrounded by stacks of papers, working relentlessly. Without looking up, she spoke. “Good trip? You’re late.”

Jason tossed the bag onto the couch. “Yeah, but Batdad was sniffing around. Had to lose him.” True, I was there , Aquila confirmed. He headed straight to the bathroom without waiting for a response.

Talia glanced up briefly, her expression hard. “Fine. But don’t let it happen again.” 

You got let off too easy.. Aquila sighed in disappointment.

"Yeah, yeah," Jason muttered dismissively. “I’m giving Damian a bath now,” he called over his shoulder, already halfway down the hall.

Once in the bathroom, Jason gently took off Damian’s clothes, followed by his own, tossing them both into the corner. He adjusted the water temperature and stepped into the tub with the baby, sinking into the warm water with a relieved sigh. Nice, what if I attack you with my water powers!

Damian splashed playfully, sending water everywhere, clearly enjoying the bath. Jason chuckled. “Heh, you think you’re funny, don’t ya?” Definitely , the playful voice in Damian’s head responded as Jason grinned, playfully tickling Damian’s belly. Damian’s giggles filled the room, the little boy babbling as he splashed even more. “Bahh-Buhhh!” AHH BABA, STOP IT! STOP IT AHAHAHA!

Jason couldn’t help but smile. After about half an hour of playful splashing and laughter, Jason finally managed to get them both out of the tub. Damian, of course, protested every step of the way, but Jason got him dried off and snug in his little pyjamas. 

Later, Jason sat on the bed with Damian, reading him a bedtime story, watching as the little boy’s eyes grew heavy. Before long, Damian was sound asleep, tucked safely in Jason’s arms.

Talia entered Jason's room, the sight of her two boys sleeping together stirring a warmth in her heart. They looked so peaceful, their breaths syncing in a soft rhythm, a picture of tranquillity that brought a smile to her lips. Leaning against the doorway, she took a moment to savour the scene before quietly approaching them.

With a gentle touch, she brushed her fingers against their foreheads, feeling the warmth of their skin beneath her fingertips. She leaned down, placing a tender kiss on each of their brows. "Sleep well, my boys," she whispered softly in Arabic, the words laced with affection.

She lingered for a moment longer, watching them with a mix of pride and love, grateful for the family they were building together. As she stepped back, Talia felt a sense of peace settle over her—a promise of brighter days ahead for them all. With one last glance, she quietly closed the door, leaving the two of them to their dreams.