Chapter Text
The Watchtower was loud.
Not emergency loud.
Not battle loud. Just loud.
Heroes filled the massive observation deck.
Some were bandaged, some were laughing, and some were comparing battle scars like it was a sport.
The Justice League stood near the center. They looked composed, controlled, and slightly tired.
The Teen Titans had taken over one corner. “Okay, but I’m telling you,” Beast Boy said, half-shifted into something vaguely green and fuzzy.
“I could’ve taken that thing solo.” “You were stuck to a wall,” Raven replied flatly.
Starfire floated happily upside down above them. “But you were very brave while stuck, Gar.”
Blue Beetle eagerly replayed footage of the fight for anyone who would watch. Across the room, the Batfamily brooded in various states.
Nightwing leaned casually against a console. Red Hood argued with Roy. Red Robin pretended not to hover near Kon.
Batman spoke with Superman. And near the far window— Robin crossed his arms. Beside him, Superboy excitedly rambled about something involving laser vision and “strategic dramatic entrances.”
It felt normal. Peaceful. For once.
And then— Reality tore.
A crack of light split the air above the center of the room. It was not a boom tube. It wasn’t magic like Zatanna’s. It was a rip.
Like the universe had been sliced open.
Everyone turned.
Weapons ready.
The portal snapped wide.
And someone fell out.
A figure plummeted downward fast.
Gasps echoed.
Before anyone could react, the falling figure twisted midair and— Stopped. Just before hitting the ground. He hovered inches above the floor. White light flared behind him, with wings of pure energy unfolding in a flash like an angel caught in lightning. H
e descended gently, his boots touching the ground with impossible grace. Silence fell. And then— A second body tumbled through the portal. This one didn’t glow. He hit the ground hard— Rolled— Flipped— And landed in a perfect crouch.
He stood slowly, brushing his dark hair back as if it was only a minor inconvenience
. The room collectively stopped breathing. The second guy was strikingly attractive.
He looked like an older teenager, maybe in his early twenties. He wore black jeans that fit too well and a fitted shirt. A long medical coat swayed around his legs. Confidence radiated off him like heat.
Several Titans stared.
Beast Boy leaned toward Blue Beetle. “Okay, but like. Respectfully?” “Respectfully,” Jaime whispered back.
The glowing one—broad-shouldered, with a sun-warm smile and bright eyes—looked around in confusion. “…Oh,” he breathed.
The second boy looked up at him sharply. “John.” The glowing one froze. He turned. Their eyes met. Panic, fear, and relief passed between them. “I’m sorry,” the glowing boy said quickly, stepping closer. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for the coordinates to shift. I thought I locked the timeline. I’m sorry, my love.”
My love.
That did not go unnoticed.
Batman and Superman stepped forward.
The room shifted around them automatically.
“Identify yourselves.” His voice was calm, cold, and commanding.
The glowing boy straightened slightly, pulling himself together. He glanced at the other boy just once, then looked at the heroes surrounding them. “My name is Jonathan, but you all call me Jon.” He smiled sheepishly, looking nervous. “And before anyone panics—please don’t panic. We’re not here to fight. Actually, we really, really didn’t mean to be here at all.”
Superboy blinked from across the room. “…Excuse me?” The older John’s eyes flicked to him. And softened. “Oh,” he breathed. “Wow. You’re—” The boy in the medical coat gently nudged him. “Focus.” Jon winced. “Right. Sorry.”
The second boy stepped forward. Every eye tracked him. He didn’t look scared. He looked calculating. Measuring. Assessing exits, power levels, and threat responses. Batman noticed. Of course he did. The boy’s gaze swept over the room again—the League, the Titans, the Batfamily. His eyes paused— On Batman. Something unreadable crossed his face. “…You don’t recognize me.” It was not a question. Batman’s jaw tightened. “No.” The boy let out a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh. Then he stepped fully into the light.
And met Batman’s eyes directly. “Well,” he said coolly, “I can’t believe you don’t recognize me, father.”
The room went dead silent.
The boy’s voice did not shake. “My name is Damian.” He held Batman’s gaze.
“I’m your son.”