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Damian and Tim were never considered the cordial brothers; they always would argue, then tough it out. That's what it meant to be Robin. Get hurt, die, and then move on. Jason did it, Dick did it, and so did Tim. Little did everyone else know Damian did too. Not talked about much, yes, but it was Damian’s perfect secret, the eyes that were a little too green. The roughness that didn't seem to fit in his gentle eyes was spat out like the venomous snake he was perceived to be.
The Wayne family knew a thing or two about being fake. The Batman and Robin symbol was them faking it. It was a rite of passage that just had to be assumed. For Tim, there was no greater symbol than being Robin to Bruce, to The Batman. But for Damian, it was a weakness, a moment for him to be needed. When his mother gave him up to Bruce, it felt weak, discarded, a waste of the Al Ghul name. This showed through the aggressive and tense battle stances, the hard training that he put himself through. The intense need to prove his worth.
Timothy Jackson Drake saw this in Damian, but before he could see Damian as Robin, he only saw him as Damian, a child with awful parents. This is where he saw himself in the boy. The bullying in school, the ignorant parents who only saw one thing for their child. The Successor. This sparked a new interest in Tim about Damian. He has studied the robins before, Jason, and Dick. But neither of Tim's older brothers ever had the struggle of being rich and alone. This was something that only two children in the Wayne family would understand. While Bruce had Alfred. Damian and Tim had maids and caregivers who were only there when Mommy and Daddy didn't want to give them attention.
It was interesting to Tim that Damian, despite still having a doting mother, was still alone. Jack and Janet would leave constantly, always traveling and never staying. It was always Janet saying, “Timmy baby, do not hate us for leaving, it keeps us rich and keeps you here.” He hated his mother for saying those words to him. It reminded him that he was merely just an object to be bought with money, never a son. Whereas Damian always fought with the others, fighting for his right as a son in Bruce’s eyes. It was not always obvious how Bruce looked at him with disgust or disappointment. It never showed that he did not want Damian around, but Tim saw it. Tim saw the same look in Bruce that he saw in Jack. It burned a rage within the young adult.
Tim shed the name Robin after sometime, cutting the affiliations with Robin and red robin. Calling himself “The Crow” symbolising intelligence, resourcefulness, and adaptability. This was Tim in every sense. Whenever faced with a problem, he fixed it. No matter what. That is why Tim is needed. Damian knew this, which is what caused the boy to crawl into the safe house at 3 am, wounded. He doesn’t want Batman, Jason, or Dick. He wants his brother to be the one who understands.
The stumble was loud and painful for the younger boy. Having been stabbed by the Joker, the mission went wrong; it had been a trap. Not a blatant one like Jason or Tim, it was a normal mission that Joker knew Batman would've let him go on his own. Tim was watching the footage as Damian fumbled in, his heart clenched, and he felt sick. The stab was deep, but it was not going to kill the boy by any means.
“Timothy-, I need your help.” Damian grits his teeth, the pain unbearable and burning. It catches him off guard, that he even states that he needs help, but he follows suit and leads Damian to the kitchen table, and lays him on top of it. This makes it easier for Tim to clean and stitch him up.
"Alright, Damian, stay still, this will not feel good. If you need to squeeze something, use this.” He hands Damian a stuffed weighted crow, Tim made it himself after a particularly nasty anxiety attack, one of which he knew he couldn’t do anything rash. It wasn't anything special by any means, but it was his. It was heavy enough to keep a constant pressure on his chest as he slept at night. Being super busy as The Crow, with no sidekick, left little to no time for Bernard to stop by.
Tim ushers the boy to remove his Robin uniform shirt so he can clean and look at the wound properly. Damian follows along and does as he's told. The boy never takes off his shirt or removes it during training. Tim now understands why. The little nine-year-old boy had autopsy scars on his chest. This shot the air out of his lungs. He felt his vision blur, and his heart rate quicken. He cleans his wound and sees that the wound is deep enough for it to need stitches. As he starts to stitch him, Timothy finally bites the bullet.
“When did it happen?” There was no pressure, no anger towards the boy, just pure angst and worry. Damian drew a deep breath, something an old man does when talking about the war that he should've been too young to fight in. “I was five, Father just discovered I existed. At this time him and Dick had just lost Jason, when they discovered my grandfather had him.” Damian's words trail off, as if it were too painful to remember. Then he continued, “Grandfather and mother had just used the pit to resurrect Todd, and they had used me to spar with him. He was…unstable, as you people would say. They used him like a lab rat. One night, and Todd were sparring, and he threw a hit too hard.” Tim gains a lump in his throat, unable to speak. He knows where this is going. He knows how this ends.
“He killed me. In rage. But that's also when it wore off. The side effects of the pit, of course. But I was the casualty. They eventually did an autopsy on me, declared me dead, then brought me back. Father never knew this, and Todd has no recollection of it.” Damian's words came out faster than he normally talked. He didn't talk much at that, but when it came to this, the words just fell out. The secret is out. The one that plagues his every waking thought, and now he has told someone.
Tim stayed quiet, nothing to say, nothing could ever fix what he wanted to say. All he did was stitch him up. Dressed it, and then handed Damian a blanket for the couch. “Stay here, I'll drive you home tomorrow, I'll tell Bruce you came and had a sleepover. I have a lead to follow.” He tells Damian, during this process, he hands him a remote for TV, the stuffed animal, and cash in case he's hungry for takeout. But what happens next, takes him from Timothy to big brother.
“Please stay” Damian huffs out past his silent tears. There has never been a moment where anyone has ever seen Damian cry. Even when he died, he didn't cry. Tim's body reacts first, dropping everything in his hand as he makes a great stride towards the boy. “It's okay, I’ve got you, I’m not leaving, I won't leave you. You don't have to leave, Dami.” Tim huffs out the words as if this is the last thing he will ever do. He will guard this boy with his life, if it means keeping him safe. He knows what it is like to be scared, and helpless. Wishing someone would reach out and hold him to tell him he's home, to tell him he's safe, to guard him with their life. Every adult in this boy's life has failed him, from Ra’s, to Jason, and everyone in between.
“You’ll never have to be robin again, you’ll never have to be a weapon. You're just a kid, Damian. This isn't a mantle for you to carry, no matter the legacy.” He whispers into the younger boy's ear, as Damian just sobs, the words breaking him down like a condemned building awaiting its demolition day. “I have to be perfect, they want me to be perfect, I cannot disappoint them.” The words fall out of Damian's mouth like a broken fountain. Tim hears himself in the boy. “No you do not, that is their problem. That is an adult problem. Your only problem should be a school project, and if you like broccoli or not.” Tim cards his hand through the boy's hair and tells him these things. “I gave up being robin, and red robin because I knew these things hurt me too. That's why I did it. I became The Crow because I knew if I kept following Bruce, I was going to die. It was killing me. Each fiber of my being was intertwined with being robin. But it had helped me meet you, and it was the greatest gift Robin could’ve ever given me.” Tim admits to Damian, and it was true, he loved his brother. He loved him so much he would argue with him. He would fight his decisions of being too tough, or too angry. He knew deep down, Damian didn't hate him, he knew it's because he's scared of letting himself be a kid. But that would not work for Tim. Tim is going to give the boy a proper life. School by 7am, home by 3:30pm, dinner on the table by 6pm and homework help at 7. He knew Benard would help him, he also knew it wouldn't be easy. But Tim would give his brother the world, if it meant to never give Damian that same fear Tim had. Damian was grateful for Timothy, though the words cut his throat like glass piercing him. He wanted the life he knew Tim could give him. He didn't want Bruce, nor dick, nor Jason or Talia. He just wanted Timmy. He wanted stability. He wanted a home.
One year later.
Tim has since adopted Damian as his son for legal reasons, to put him in school, and continue his education. They had since moved cities, Benard moved in with the brothers, and helped make their little makeshift life just a little more stable. This is what Damian needed, he made friends in school, joined a chess club, and a soccer team. Bruce and Talia tried to keep contact, but they knew better. They knew that they couldn't ruin Damian's life like they so carelessly did the first 9 years of his life. Dick and Jason come around every now and then, per Damian's request, so they can spar in the backyard of the suburban house he and Bernard own.While this healed something in Damian, it had also healed Tim. They needed each other. The crow and his fledge.