Chapter Text
"Richard, Maps, and Jonathan are coming over for Christmas dinner."
Dick looked up to see that Damian had entered the room with Titus leashed in his grip. The teen still insisted on calling him by his full name despite their relationship softening to a sibling dynamic years ago. Damian had changed a lot. He wasn't the sword-wielding, angry preteen that Talia sent their way, but a monotone, animal-loving kid.
He still snapped at Tim quite often, got benched when he went too far on patrols, and was quick to grab a knife when Maps was under threat. But the man felt comfortable enough to let the teen loose every once in a while now. Dick could sit back for a week and let him take over missions. He was proud of his brother, even if it made him teary-eyed to see him go from a boy to a man.
"That's great. Your relationship with Maps is becoming pretty serious, I have noticed." Everyone could see just how much Damian cared about the girl.
At the mention of their bond, his brother blushed and scoffed. "Maps is a great ally to have for our plans for all of Gotham. She is smart and crafty despite her lack of fighting skills."
"She's also the only person you let see your sketchbooks without a knife to the throat." The brunette had nearly beheaded Steph when she merely picked the book up one day without noticing it was his. That afternoon was quite a mess.
Damian shrugged his shoulders at the comment and clicked his tongue. "Maps is merely an investment. Don't assume otherwise."
Before Dick could tease him any further, the teenager left to take Titus on the dog's much-needed evening walk. He watched the boy leave, then shook his head. His brother could try to deny it, but anyone who knew him could see that Maps had a special place in his heart. Tim had called it "creepy" how intensely Damian had pursued the girl, saying that he acted like a stalker, but Dick found it adorable.
He was just thrilled his baby brother was living a normal life for once. The man put in an effort for all his siblings to these days. Bruce wasn't the emotionally available type, so they went to him for support and advice. Dick felt like he had become a mother hen of sorts when it came to his siblings. He put all of his leftover energy from his day job into making sure they were doing alright.
Call it unhealthy, Dick wanted his family to be whole. The gymnast was focused on their well-being and watched over them like a hawk. He was the one who made sure Tim wasn't locked in his room, surviving on nothing but coffee for an entire week straight. The one who made sure Jason remembered he actually had people who cared about his health when he was working with his former teammates.
Dick cared for God's sake. The man sighed and stopped himself from entering a doom spiral as he got up to go into the kitchen. It was empty besides the presence of Tim, who was preoccupied with his phone. No doubt talking to his boyfriend after a long day, resting from a bruised rib. They had gone on patrol together, and things got messy when some D-level henchmen came out to fight.
The two managed to keep things under control and saved a poor woman who got in the crossfire of the fight. Tim had mentioned to him briefly that she got some scrapes, but nothing major to cause a hospitalization. Still, the gymnast could tell that someone getting hurt bothered his brother, even if he kept a straight face when explaining the situation. Tim had grown to become that way recently.
Dick didn't like it.
"You need to eat." He opened the fridge and took out some leftovers from yesterday's lunch for the younger man to eat.
He placed it right under Tim's arms and cleared his throat loudly to grab his attention. The dark-haired man stopped texting for the first time that day and spared the food a glance. Even though his behavior would make you think it must be some revolting meal, they both knew Tim would dig in if Alfred asked. Since it was Dick asking, Tim was able to fight more and protest vocally.
His therapist had told him this was actually pretty normal in dysfunctional family units. The children would target the safe person in their life, like their subservient mother or downtrodden father, with all their negative emotions. That was because this person was least likely to permanently turn their back after all the abuse thrown their way. Dick didn't feel like what Tim dished his way was abusive.
Now, Jason? Yes. But Tim and the other kids? No. He tried to argue this, but his therapist shook her head and explained that even if it was just being ignored, that still counted as Tim labeling him as the safe person. It wasn't purposeful or done out of spite, but simply because Dick assumes that role with ease. He was the golden boy. The smiling, dutiful son who maybe sometimes enabled their father.
In Tim's eyes, he could safely yell at Dick compared to Jason and Bruce. No weapons would be drawn, no words would be said that would leave scars. His therapist stated that Dick was the parental figure, and Tim saw him in some way like a third father, so he was currently behaving like a rebellious teenager. Of course, his therapist was left in the dark about all the vigilante activity in their life.
So, this analysis was based purely on the mundane information the man gave. He still found it to be fairly accurate. "If you eat, I will make you some coffee."
Tim winced and put a hand up, stopping him right there. "No thanks. Your coffee isn't the best, Dick. The last time you made it, I puked. I'll just make my own after I finish my plate."
The dark-haired man made no move to protest as Tim agreeing to eat was a win. He wanted the man to survive off of something other than coffee and his pure drive for finding out the inner secrets of everyone around him. Dick waits to see Tim actually take a bite and swallow it before going on with his day. His little brother could be sneaky, and there was always a chance he'd hide the food under his tongue and then spit it out into the trash when Dick turned his back on him.
Tim cut a piece of the leftover chicken and pasta, looping the noodles around his fork and stabbing the piece before bringing it up to his mouth. He opened it and swallowed with an exhausted sigh. Dick could see the bags under his eyes, but he didn't want to push his brother any further with more questions. He got him to eat, and that was a victory he would hold tightly to his chest for the rest of the day.