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“Hayati, come here.”
Damian padded across the flagstones, eyeing the young man sitting at his mother’s feet. Talia motioned for Damian to sit beside her, and reached down to smooth the curls back from the older boy’s forehead.
“This is your brother, Damian. One of your father’s sons.”
Damian’s eyes widened. He had not known his father had other sons. “He is older than me.”
“You are still your father’s heir, hayati, but Jason is your brother. You will look after each other. He is a fierce fighter, and he will never attack you, but he remembers little of who he is. He will need your help, and he will watch your back.”
Damian studied the boy, who stared frankly back at him. “Yes, ummi.”
“One last thing, and you must listen closely. You must never let his teeth break your skin.”
Damian’s gaze snapped back up to hers. “I thought you said he would not attack me.”
“Never on purpose, habibi. I promise you that. You must be certain even so.”
His forehead furrowed, but he agreed. As with many of his mother’s warnings, he assumed the meaning would become clear eventually.
Jason was missing.
It was Damian’s fault. He had stumbled in training, fumbling his parry, and nearly gone to his knees. Jason swept in, blocking the instructor’s blow an inch from Damian’s neck.
Damian should have been fast enough; steady enough. He knew this. He had deserved whatever punishment came his way. His Akhi never allowed it anymore. Jason had taken his own punishment and Damian’s as well, tall and silent under the strokes of the cane.
Damian left him for only a minute, to fetch the salve from one of their trunks, but when he stepped back into the bedroom, Jason’s lanky form was no longer stretched on the bed. Heart rising into his throat, Damian hurried toward the bed. He saw no blood, but that—
There was something still in the bed. Curled on the sheets, panting lightly, burrowed into the rumpled bedding.
Damian crouched beside the bedframe, staring. The raccoon’s eyes blinked open. Familiar steady teal eyes looked back at him.
“Akhi?” he whispered.
The raccoon gave a soft churr.
A furry streak slipped through the parlor door. Jason spun around, pushing the door shut with his small paws. Damian set aside his translation work, raising one eyebrow as his brother scurried across the rug, a lumpy pouch clenched in his teeth.
“I hope no one saw you,” he scolded, taking the pouch.
Jason darted around behind the couch, and returned a few seconds later, tugging on his league uniform. “No,” he said, voice rough with how little use it got. He poked the pouch, which smelled sweetly of honey and cinnamon. “Eat.”
Damian pulled out a bun for each of them, dropping one in Jason’s hand. “Akhi, do you remember if you were born a shifter?”
Jason took a bite of his bun. “Nope.”
“No, you were not, or no you do not remember?”
“Nope.”
Damian narrowed his eyes. “Tt.”
“Akhi! I wish to train with you!” Jason hopped to his feet, rolling his shoulders as he approached the weapons rack. Damian waved him toward the ring. “No need for weapons. I must utilize every weapon available to me, including my own body. Today we shall practice biting.”
Jason stopped in his tracks. One eyebrow lifted.
Damian squared his shoulders, hoping his expression was still casual. “You have always pushed me to use whatever methods are open, regardless of honor or style. Will you tell me now it is not respectable to use teeth?”
“No biting,” Jason said, his voice flat.
“Shall I inform ummi that you are refusing to train me?”
It was a bluff, and the crinkle of Jason’s eyes called him on it. His brother stepped closer, ruffling his hair. Damian snarled, ducking away too late.
“You can bite me. No biting you.”
Damian scoffed, kicking a pebble out of the practice ring. “Don’t be ridiculous. I refuse to fight you if you will not defend yourself. If you refuse to fight fairly, I suppose we must focus on tracking lessons today.”
“Good.”
Scowling, Damian marched out of the courtyard, Jason trailing behind.
Damian hissed through his teeth, but inspected the wound with satisfaction. “Akhi!”
His older brother came running, scanning the courtyard for the source of the alarm in Damian’s voice.
“A snake,” Damian called. “It already escaped beneath the gate!”
Jason’s face paled a shade, and he veered to crouch beside Damian, checking his leg. Damian held his breath, hoping the injury held up to inspection. The first puncture had been an accident. A kick that brought his calf too close to the broken end of a board. The idea and the opportunity had presented itself so neatly, though…he’d done his best to match the first mark, and hoped the bleeding would obscure any irregularities enough to pass.
Jason frowned. Damian couldn’t give him time to think this through too closely.
“You must suck the poison out, akhi,” he begged. “I think it was a viper.”
Jason squinted more closely at the wound, then glared up at Damian. He raised one hand, and with great deliberateness, flicked him on the forehead.
“Hey!”
“Stupid,” Jason muttered. “No sucking. No snake. Come clean it, habibi.”
Damian scowled, face flushing red. “There was so a snake.”
“Then your mother will kill it.”
Damian’s mouth twisted. He let Jason haul him to his feet. “Fine, there was no snake. Don’t let her go hunting, akhi.”
Jason caught him around the waist, hoisting him up under his arm. Damian yelped, trying to wriggle free, but his brother held him tight as he headed for the infirmary. “No biting.”
“Why not?!” Damian squirmed, managing to brace one foot against Jason’s shoulder, driving his elbow into the older boy’s ribs. “It is not hurting you! It would be a tactical advantage! My stealth would be much improved, as would my cold tolerance, and—”
“Nope.”
“Surely ummi would never have assigned you to me if she disapproved of this possibility.”
“Nope.”
Damian groaned, going limp under Jason’s arm. “This is horrendously unfair.”
“Yep.”
Damian refused to blink.
“Bite me.”
Jason’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t look away. “No.”
“Why not?”
“T would kill me.”
“Tt, as if you care. Why won’t you bite me?”
Jason leaned forward an inch. “Why do you want me to?”
Damian’s cheeks warmed, and he tightened his fists at his sides. “That is irrelevant. It costs you nothing, and I am willing. Bite me!”
“No.”
Damian growled, barely resisting the urge to stomp his foot. “Akhi, you are being foolish and stubborn!” Jason snorted, ruffling his hair. Damian slapped his hand away. Why did he even want to be a were-raccoon? Clearly, it damaged the brain and made one utterly insufferable.
It also made one very cute and soft and sneaky, but that was entirely irrelevant to this conversation. Except perhaps the sneaking part.
He took a deep breath, chewing on the inside of his lip. “Please,” he muttered.
Jason’s eyes softened, and he stood, wrapping an arm around Damian’s shoulders. Hope rose in the boy’s chest.
It was dashed again immediately.
“No.”
Damian let out a wordless groan of frustration, butting his head against Jason’s ribs.
Damian hardly dared to breathe, inching across the bed. Jason lay sprawled on his stomach beside him, cheek smashed against the pillow, snoring lightly. Slow as honey, Damian slipped a finger into Jason’s open mouth. Jason’s canines were fairly sharp, but not quite sharp enough. Frowning in concentration, he pressed his finger to the tip of one canine.
Jason came awake with a strangled snort, rearing back.
“‘e hell?!” He nearly fell off the other side of the bed, one foot smacking Damian in the leg as he flailed. “The fuck are you doing, Dami?!”
Damian huffed, flinging himself against the pillows. “It doesn’t matter!”
“Were you trying to make me bite you in my sleep? You gremlin!”
“Since you refuse to grant my very reasonable request, I was forced to resort to more covert measures!”
Jason hauled himself back across the bed, flopping on top of his little brother and squashing him deep into the bedding. Damian squalled, trying to writhe free. “Get– your– massive–”
“Leave my mouth alone! I know T told you not to get bit!”
“Mother has clearly not thought through all the possibilities!”
“What, like you wanting a fluffy tail and paws so bad you’ll try to Sleeping Beauty yourself on my teeth?” Jason finally rolled off, snorting. “Go to sleep, kid. It’s not happening. Don’t even know why you’re so obsessed with it.”
Damian grumbled under his breath, burrowing further beneath the rumpled blankets.
"Open wide," Dick sang, shoving the swab into Jason's mouth. "Let me see those pearly whites."
Jason glared at him, but allowed Dick to swab the inside of his cheek. As Dick placed the swab in a test tube, he lounged against the Cave wall. "Don't let the kid get his hands on that," he commented, tipping the toe of his boot back and forth.
"Tim? He's out of town anyway."
"Nah, the squirt."
Damian looked up from his katana, whetstone pausing. "Don't call me that."
"He'll probably cut open his hand and shove the whole swab in."
"Tt."
"Sorry, what?" Dick looked from one to the other. "Gross?"
A grin spread across Jason's scarred face. "Oh, you don't know? Habibi, he doesn't know? The whole—"
"Shut up, Todd!"
"Dami?"
"Back in the League, this little guy found out I can turn into a raccoon, and next thing I know he's—" Jason fought to keep his balance as Damian scaled his back, trying to cover his older brother's mouth, "faking snakebites and—" He grabbed the back of Damian's uniform, dragging him away from his face, "shoving—"
"You are the worst! I can't believe I ever wanted to be like you!"
Damian realized his mistake as both men stopped, turning to stare at him. Jason still held him at arm's length. With a kick to his brother's hip, Damian managed to free himself, dropping lightly to the floor of the Cave.
Dick clasped a hand to his chest. "Dami, that's so sweet."
"That's why you wanted it so bad?" Damian couldn't bear to look at Jason, but he could hear the bemusement in his voice.
Damian's cheeks felt hot. He folded his arms tightly across his chest. "As I said, a foolish idea from a foolish child."
"I thought you just really liked animals."
"Tt." That would have been a more dignified explanation, and not exactly false. Damian should have thought to use that, instead of blurting out the truth like a baby. "Obviously I do."
"Of course he wanted to be like you, Jay!" Dick slung an arm around Jason's shoulders, ignoring the other's attempts to shrug him off. "You're a wonderful big brother!"
"Shove off, Dickhead!"
"It's not as though I even care anymore, so the question is irrelevant!"
Both his older brothers raised doubtful eyebrows, but Damian stood his ground. Thankfully, Dick let the matter drop after minimal amounts of smug cooing.
As Damian stacked the last of his gear in the armory, Jason paused nearby, flipping a wingding he'd stolen from Dick.
"You're really not interested anymore?"
Damian's pause was just a touch too long. "Tt. Of course not. I'm not a child."
Jason nodded, flipping the wingding again. "Cool. Cool."
Damian fitted his katana on the rack and turned toward the door. Jason fell into step beside him.
"Just…so we're clear," Jason said, his tone ever so casual, hands tucked in the pockets of his jacket. "You're old enough now I could probably be convinced."
Damian's head snapped to the left, eyes widening as he stared up at his brother.
"For a bargain, too." Jason leaned in, lowering his voice. "Tell Batman to go fuck himself with a cactus in front of Green Arrow, and you can take your pick of me or Roy, habibi. You just let us know when and where."
"Tt." Damian resumed walking toward the door. "Harper will not be laying a paw on me."
He'd need to bribe Barbara for access to the Watchtower's security footage. Jason would not hold up a bargain like this without solid proof. Damian would leave no loopholes.