Chapter Text
Jason leaned over Tim, who was lying on the floor and showing no signs of life. A Gengar hovered anxiously above them, and Jason could only sigh heavily.
Tim had difficulty with absolutely everything, so he groaned from the floor:
"This is the second time this week, Jay."
Jason could have joked about the master being like his Pokémon, because Snorlax was also lying on the floor, though voluntarily, wanting to nap by the fireplace since the carpets were pretty soft. But he'd definitely get revenge for that later. And it was kind of his fault.
So Jason turned to Gengar and patted his spiky back:
"I understand you like to show affection like some Rockruff, but you keep forgetting that puppies can lick people, while your display of sympathy paralyzes them."
Gengar let out a very sad sound that echoed through the mansion. Jason patted his back again, this time sympathetically.
"He just likes you," he said to Tim.
Tim couldn't move at all, couldn't even speak very clearly, but his look spoke a thousand words and gestures.
"I'll call Psyduck right now — and you're done for."
"Psychic type against a Ghost type, really?"
"I would never touch Gengar; instead, I'm going to destroy you."
Gengar started circling in the air, looking quite embarrassed. Jason sighed heavily again. Sometimes it seemed like all his Pokémon were ready to abandon him and go to Tim.
"Actually, Timbo, he's doing you a favor; you haven't rested in a long time. And since you can't do WayneTek business anymore, it's time to hit the hay."
Tim was clearly debating: call Psyduck and choose violence, or give up and take the peaceful path. Finally, he let out a very sad sound that resembled a ghost's wail. Maybe that's why Gengar liked him so much: he saw a kindred spirit.
"Fine. Wake up my Snorlax; we'll go sleep in my room."
Jason grinned smugly and pulled out a couple of Pokéblocks. Snorlax opened his eyes on command and rose from the floor surprisingly quickly for his size. Jason was once again convinced that Pokémon were very much like their trainers, because Tim woke up the same way at the smell of coffee. Snorlax, having obtained a couple of Pokéblocks, contentedly patted his belly.
"Buddy, will you carry Timbo to his room?"
"Snor?"
"Yeah, again. He likes stepping on the same rake."
"Snorlax, you too?"
"He just agrees that you need more sleep."
Snorlax made an agreeing sound, then picked Tim up in his arms as if he weighed nothing and simply carried him upstairs.
Jason turned to Gengar, who was clearly planning to slip away quietly by going through the wall:
"Can we agree to limit your paralysis attacks to at least once a week? And preferably on Dickie, so he doesn't turn everything into a circus here."
Gengar went through the wall anyway, and Jason realized he wouldn't escape Grayson's concerts after all.
---
Many scientists debated whether Eevees and their evolutions were feline or canine. Jason had no doubt that his Jolteon had taken all the worst traits from both, because when, during a relatively peaceful family breakfast, Bruce set his coffee mug aside, Jolteon, looking the stadium leader in the eyes, pawed it off the table. Jason, for decency's sake, didn't even call Jolteon a good boy.
Bruce's Umbreon, lying on the kitchen counter, lazily opened one eye, gave Jason a very judgmental look, and then went back to dozing.
Tim gurgled mockingly into his mug and, just in case, kept it in his hands, apparently worried his coffee would suffer the same fate. His Espeon could definitely use telekinesis to clean up the shards, but instead moved a couple more Pokéblocks from the counter to itself, and brought Tim snacks to go with his coffee.
Damian muttered something about a madhouse, then moved the sweets away from Tim and pushed a plate of fruit toward him. He wasn't so much occupied with his own breakfast as feeding his Eevee, who sat on his lap. Eevee sometimes stood on his hind legs, putting his front paws on the table to try to eat on his own, but he wasn't very good at it yet. Usually, if Damian wasn't around, Umbreon taught him things like how to jump onto furniture and groom his fur, for example, but now he was lazily dozing while Damian took on all parental duties.
"I believe we've discussed manners before," Bruce raised one eyebrow slightly. Jolteon didn't react to his words at all, clearly plotting his next stunt.
"You're a bad influence on him. He's usually the epitome of politeness," Jason looked at Dick, expecting confirmation. Because, actually, Jolteon was so well-mannered that sparks never accidentally flew from him. Which would be especially dangerous for Dick's Pokémon, all of which were Water types.
Bruce, apparently, intended to play judgmental staring games all through breakfast, but then Dick's Vaporeon shot a stream of water into the air, accompanied by water bubbles.
This time Damian muttered something not about a madhouse, but about a circus.
Vaporeon happily repeated his trick, glad that at least no one was arguing anymore. The only one applauding, however, was Dick, who even looked up from his cereal shaped like lightning bolts with Pikachu on the box.
---
Damian looked like he was ready to kill. That would have been fine, but his gloomy image was ruined by his Eevee, who was also trying very hard to look fierce, even puffing up his fur, and it looked amusing.
"This is a stadium, Grayson. Not an amusement park. Why are we having performances again?"
Stephanie leaned toward Tim and whispered quietly:
"He's just mad because none of his Pokémon know any tricks, and a menacing glare isn't the most impressive thing."
"At least almost all his Pokémon can glare menacingly."
"Still not a trick."
Damian cleared his throat so no one would stray from the problem:
"We don't need a crowd of gawkers at the mansion."
"Technically, Dami, they'll be on the training grounds behind the mansion," Dick ruffled his brother's hair, and Damian immediately moved away. "And no one really goes into the mansion anyway, so why not?"
"That's a good thing. We should instill fear in people so they're even afraid to look at the stadium."
"That's not how stadiums work, Dami. And it would be great if your Pokémon joined too; we could update the program so it's not just Water types," this time Dick ruffled not Damian, but Eevee's light fur. The Pokémon, unlike his trainer, contentedly closed his eyes. "And, who knows, maybe your Eevee will enjoy performing with us so much that he'll evolve into Vaporeon."
Damian immediately picked Eevee up:
"Over my dead body."
Dick looked at Tim and Steph for support, but they were actually planning to watch a new superhero series, not family drama, but Damian decided to voice his complaints right in front of them, apparently hoping for their solidarity.
"Well," Steph tossed a Pokéball in her hand, "I could offer my Jigglypuff for a performance, but then everything would end very quickly."
Tim tried to whisper as quietly as possible:
"I owe you ice cream if your Jigglypuff sings right now."
Steph winked smugly at Tim, and then a little pink ball of fluff burst from her Pokéball. Dick was clearly no longer so sure about his idea of involving the family in performances, and Damian regretted not having his Flying-type Pokémon on hand to carry him far away from here.
"Jiggly?" Steph's Pokémon inquired, blinking adorably.
"Let it rip," Steph settled more comfortably against Tim's shoulder, handing him earplugs.
---
Training, Damian knew, was the key to success. He didn't yet know what Pokémon his Eevee would want to become, but he knew it would be someone very strong, dangerous, and powerful, so he needed to hone agility and speed now.
The problem was that with all the Pokémon roaming freely around the mansion, there were many distractions.
The worst part was that it wasn't so much the Pokémon that were distracting, but their trainers.
Dick and his Wartortle were doing some incomprehensible poses while using Ice Beam. Damian genuinely didn't understand how Grayson could even be a trainer at Gotham Stadium. Entertainment for losers so they wouldn't feel too bad when they couldn't even reach the leader — yeah, okay, that fit. But a trainer at such a prestigious stadium? Definitely not.
Jason was no better. His Feraligatr sat with him on the couch, watching some horror movie and growling contentedly at every death in the film.
Tim was slightly more tolerable, because he didn't put on shows or engage in questionable activities with his Pokémon (because who teaches their Pokémon to ride a bike while wearing sunglasses?). However, right now Drake just looked pathetic, curled up in an armchair with his laptop, simply watching as his poor Psyduck interfered with Damian's training.
All because Jason's Fuecoco was chasing the poor duck, wanting to bite its tail. Fuecoco was definitely the most energetic one in the whole mansion, and his friendliness manifested not only in loving to sit in everyone's arms, but also more destructively: either chasing other Pokémon or trying to bite everyone he saw. And while tag with Jolteon, for example, was perfectly safe — Jolteon being an adult Pokémon who could rein Fuecoco in at any moment — tag with Bruce's Noivern, a huge and quite dangerous Pokémon, could end less well, because among Bruce's well-mannered and calm Pokémon, Noivern was the most grumpy and unpredictable. Especially considering Fuecoco would likely demonstrate his friendly chomp. And not every Pokémon considered a crocodile chomp friendly.
Psyduck clearly didn't see biting as a sign of sympathy, so he ran around the table on his little webbed feet. Luckily for him, Fuecoco's legs were also small, so they ran at the same speed.
Feraligatr growled irritably, because this chase was clearly interfering with his horror movie watching. Jason finally picked up this energetic pepper, and Fuecoco continued wiggling his paws in the air for a while, as if still intending to chase Psyduck.
"Don't growl like that; you were the same as a kid," Jason hugged Fuecoco, who immediately sank his fangs into him — again, for him, this was an expression of affection. Considering this was Jason's third crocodile, he didn't even flinch.
Feraligatr, however, was clearly offended by the mention of his pre-evolutionary years, so he demonstratively slid off the couch and went to calm Psyduck down. Water types always understood each other perfectly.
Tim reached out a hand to pet them both:
"Fuecoco just wants to be friends with you."
Psyduck grabbed his head, not particularly thrilled about this friendship. Feraligatr growled something soothingly at him. Even Wartortle stopped his training with Dick and hurried over to his Water-type comrade to say something encouraging, and also spray him with a little stream of water. Dick was already taking photos to send to the family chat. Almost immediately, a notification sound rang out, and everyone knew it was Steph, already reacting to the adorable photos with a ton of emojis and stickers.
Fuecoco fidgeted in Jason's arms, clearly wanting to join such company. But Jason decided to give Psyduck a break. Besides, a Fire-type with three Water-types might not be very safe, because Feraligatr might spray him for educational purposes.
"Can we have at least one calm training session?" Damian inquired in an icy tone.
"Come on, Dami, friendship is at stake here! Fuecoco is probably lonely because no one shares his love for biting."
Jason shot an expressive look at Feraligatr, but he just snorted discontentedly, showing he wasn't going to help. Jason would definitely remind him what an energetic Totodile he'd been, always getting in everyone's way and biting everyone.
Fuecoco finally escaped, but this time his victim wasn't Psyduck, but Eevee. Damian knelt down and petted the Fire-type. Fuecoco, allowing Eevee to sniff him, immediately bit his tail. Eevee, however, didn't lose his composure and bit back. Dick got his phone out again, eager to capture such an important moment.
"Coco?"
"Ee-vee!"
"Coco-coco!"
"Eevee!"
After a brief exchange of remarks, the baby Pokémon started racing around the entire living room, sweeping away everything in their path.
Damian wasn't happy that training would have to be rescheduled, but a new friend was still worth it.