Work Text:
Dick is seriously considering just murdering Bruce because of his inability to communicate as he drives towards Gotham after a long night of patrol. He could've just gone home to sleep before heading to Gotham at a time much more suitable for a friendly visit than 4 am, but B is a bastard who acts like communicating will kill him, so Dick is driving over at the crack of dawn.
First, yesterday, Bruce sent him a text saying he's going to Paris to pick up Tim and he's taking the Batplane. Which is suspicious given how Bruce is always about avoiding attention and the Batplane is not subtle at all. So, there's a good chance Tim is in trouble, which in hindsight, is not really a surprise. The kid is like a magnet for trouble. Dick sent like a million texts, demanding answers, without any result, but Alfred did tell him that Bruce was in such a hurry to leave that he left the Mercedes in the Batcave.
Then, after hours of communication blackout on Bruce's part - where he was just ghosting Dick, the dick - he sends a picture of Tim, looking a little bit beat up, sitting in the backseat of a car. Not that suprising and a bloody nose is basically nothing in their line of work. What is suprising is the kid sitting next to him, looking like someone used him as a punching bag. The boy is a small thing with dark hair hair, sitting as close to Tim as possible. No explanation, only an invitation to come to the Manor next day.
Well, Dick is going now. It is technically the next day. He suspected that Bruce has a habit of picking up kids, one is an accident, two is a coincidence, three times is a pattern and all, but this is fast even for him. Tim only came to them a year ago - and yeah, Tim still has a dad, but in Dick's opinion that dad sucks, no matter how much Tim loves him - and now he has a new one. Dick might just have to stage an intervention, Bruce is escalating. Tim will probably help him, he's good at making Bruce see reason (Dick has recently witnessed Tim gentle parenting Bruce into taking a break, it was the most beautiful thing he's even seen).
He would've left for Gotham as soon as Bruce sent the picture, but he's still establishing himself in Blüdhaven, and he couldn't just flake when Soames was expecting him. The whole gang war situation is worsening every day, and Dick still needs to find who is moving the strings in the back. He needs to prove that he can handle a city on his own.
He drives into the Cave, parks his car next to Redbird - he would've loved his own Robinmobile as a kid - and walks into the main area of the Cave.
He's not really expecting anyone to be there, but Bruce is here of course. Sitting in front of the Batcomputer, clearly looking for something important. Dick can't see Tim or the other kid, so hopefully that means they're up in the Manor, sleeping in an actual bedroom.
"What the hell, Bruce?" He asks and feels very satisfied by the way B startles. Startels is a strong word, but Dick can see him tense for a second which basically translates to being so suprised he jumps from his seat.
Bruce blinks at him. "Dick, hello. Is it morning already?"
"Is it? No, it's not! It's the crack of dawn, and I should be asleep in Blüd, but no, I'm not because you won't tell me anything. Honestly, a new kid?" he throws up his hand. "Did you just pluck him from the streets of Paris?"
Bruce looks at him, a pinched expression on his face, before he stands up to be on the same level as Dick. Dick can admit that he looks tired and maybe somewhat unsure—the kind of awkwardness that is purely Bruce Wayne and not Batman at all—like he's still processing things.
"I don't just pluck kids from the streets" Bruce sighs, like he had this converstations a thousand times. He probably did, it was one of Jason's favourites. "Damian is mine-"
"Yours? Oh my god, you're already attached! At least you used to have an adjustment period when you're reluctant, but no, this time you decided to just skip it!"
At least the kid has a name. Damian doesn't sound French, as far as Dick can tell, not that it matters. He started pacing the cave while talking to Bruce and picks up one of the random trinkets Tim leaves around the Cave to fidget with whenever he's working on a case, and right now he needs to occupy his hands with something.
"Dick" Bruce says, sharply. "Let me explain please" Dick nods. "Tim called me yesterday, saying he met with someone in Paris and the League was after them-"
"The League of Assassins?" Oh, Tim, what did he get himself into?
"Yes. I decided to take the Batplane as it was the fastest, and I couldn't afford to wait for backup. In Paris, I've met up with Tim and Damian. Damian's mother decided the League is not safe for him, and she knew Tim could take him to Gotham, a place that would offer the most protection. As soon as we were back on the plane, I sent updates to both you and Alfred. I felt the situation was best explained in person and not through the phone, which is why I invited you to brunch," Bruce finishes, turning back to the monitor to check on whatever he's doing.
Something is nagging Dick though, a gut feeling. Bruce's explanation was precise, a perfect mission report. Too precise actually. No explanation of why is Damian so important the League would care about getting him back or who is even Damian's mother. Not many people know that Batman is Bruce even in the League. Only Ra's and his most trust-
Oh. Bruce said the kid is his. His mother knows Bruce is Batman and knows Robin is Tim Drake and was able to find Tim. The kid, Damian, has green eyes. He's important enough that the League - Ra's - wants him back.
"You knocked up Talia? What the fuck, Bruce? You made me sit through multiple lectures about the importance of protection, you hypocritical ass!"
He sits down in one of the chairs—if Tim or any of the Titans were here, they would've said Dick swayed down dramatically, like he's in a play, but that would be slander—and Bruce is looking everywhere but at him.
Good. He should feel embaressed. Honestly, what was he thinking, a kid with Talia? There are so many other options! Like Selina, she's nice enough and most importantly not an assassin! Or he should just fully embrace whatever weird almost throuple thing he has going on with Lois and Clark.
B mutters a faint 'language' under his breath, but honestly, Dick has far more important things to care about than his language. The situation calls for swearing.
He spins the chair towards Bruce. "Wait, you just let your kid be raised in a cult?"
"I thought he was dead," Bruce says, and he looks tired and resigned. Not that Dick actually thought Bruce would've left his kid, any kid, within the reach of the League. "I knew Talia was pregnant, but she told me she lost the baby early on. I was preparing to tell you, but I wanted to wait until Talia was further along, and then it wasn't relevant, and I just stopped thinking about it. The baby. I should've checked, should've realized the miscarriage was fake, but I never thought she would've lied about something like this."
Oh, oh, this is worse than Dick thought. Bruce will internalize the fact that Talia hid their kid and feel guilty about it. Well, Dick is gonna have some words with Talia. Babs will help to make it happen.
"Yeah, okay." Dick nods. "But why now? I mean, the League sucks, we knew this for years, so why get the kid out now?"
"Bane. You heard Ra's talk about how he and Talia will create the perfect heir and he had no need for two. I suspect he kept Damian alive as a spare and to keep Talia on his good side" Bruce replies and finally looks at Dick. "You should get some sleep. The boys are sleeping and Alfred will make a late brunch."
"You're finishing this up as well, right?" he asks while standing up. Sleep sounds great, but leaving B here to brood might not be the best move.
"I still have some things to finish up. I need to make sure Ra's is not planning anything."
Which means Bruce will stay up until Alfred comes down and either manages to herd him to the Manor or sedate him. There's not much that Dick can do. He glances back at Bruce before walking up to the stairs. B is illuminated by the glow of the screen, frowning at something, just like he always does.
Dick wakes up rested. Or less tired at least. The alarm clock reads 10:37, which means he managed to get at least 5 hours of sleep, not that bad.
Getting ready doesn't take as long as it used to. He still misses his longer hair, but not having to deal with it every morning is not so bad. There are enough clothes in his closet that he can pick whatever he wants—he even finds some pieces he could've sworn got lost during moving and such—and he opts for something casual, simple sweats.
He wanders towards the kitchen and he can hear someone - who is he kidding, it must be Alfred - moving around in the kitchen, but no sign of anyone else. Bruce not being up is not suprising, but Dick expected to see Tim and Damian.
He can see that Alfred decided to make a whole feast, not that he expected anything less. There are egg in multiple forms - scrammbled and fried- pancakes, toast and some kind of porridge and toppins as well. Even cereal, though Alfred probably only put it out for Dick, not because he really wanted to.
"Ah, Master Dick, just in time. Would you wake the others?" Alfred asks him as a greeting while passing a bowl of fruits to him. "Put this on the table please."
"Yeah, I'll get them. Where is the new kid staying?"
"I put Master Damian in the room next to Master Tim's, but he was awfully attached and I suspect they might've spent the night in the same room."
Dick nods, then heads back to the family wing. He bangs on Bruce's door first, before heading to Tim's room and knocks. There's a slight shuffling behind the doors, Tim must've been already awake, jetlag is a bitch, before Tim calls out a quick "open" and Dick pushes the door open.
And yep, Tim is already awake and dressed. Dick goes for a hug, which Tim dodges and tries to elbow him in the ribs, but he's not fast enough, so Dick can grab his arm and flip him over his shoulders, and Tim is heading for the floor. He lands on his back, but recovers quickly enough, already gearing up to possibly swipe Dick's leg, when something heavy connects with his shoulders, throwing him off balance and heading for the floor. Normally, he would've been able to keep his balance, but he was in the process of changing stance to avoid Tim's leg swipe, and—was that a book? One of Tim's big, hardcovered encyclopedias that could function as a brick or two—the throw was timed perfectly.
He turns over to his back, blinking up the ceiling, when he feels something cold touch his throat. Cold and pointy. The new kid, Damian is holding a fucking katana to his throat! What the fuck? It must be Talia's influence, why did she thought she could raise a kid in the League? From the edge of his vision he can see Tim looking pretty flabbergasted, probably not expecting this either.
"Who are you and who sent you?" the kid demands, scowling, and it's such a Bruce gesture, and it's clear he's afraid. He's holding the katana steady, but his grip is a little bit too tight, and his eyes are just a little bit too wide. Oh, Dick messed up, didn't he? Alfred said Damian will probably be in Tim's room, and instead of being careful, he just barged in and greeted his brother in their usual way, but that could be easily interpreted as an attack, and the kid must be already stressed out because of everything Bruce told him happened in Paris and before that.
"Alfred! Alfred sent me to tell you brunch is ready" he says and goes for his most comforting smile, the one he uses when dealing with little kids. It doesn't work, Damian just looks even more suspicious, but Tim is stepping closer to them, one hand on the katana, the other over Damian's shoulders.
"It's okay, Dick is just an idiot, but he means no harm," Tim tells Damian, who still doesn't pull the katana away. Looking up to the younger boys from this angle is weird. He feels like a bug being studied, especially as Damian looks at him dubiously.
"I was told that using that world to refer to someone is considered rude."
"Only if you use it as an insult! But Dick is a perfectly normal nickname for Richard," he protests, and the katana is finally gone from his neck, so he can sit up. "But Alfie did send me up to tell you to come and eat. He cooked up an absolute feast."
They follow him out from the room with no accident, but Dick doesn't miss how Damian still looks at him with distrust and keeps Tim between them. He also picks the seat next to Tim, with nobody sitting on his other side, his back facing the wall and Damian having a view of all the exits.
Bruce comes down a few minutes later—good, Dick was sure he'd have to drag him physically down—and sits at the head of the table, not looking mentally present. He probably got only a few hours of sleep at most.
Dick makes a move for the cereal first, he wants to make one of those fancy yoghurt bowls, while Tim is grabbing the scrambled eggs and toast. Bruce has his usually coffee, slowly slipping it to wake up to actually start eating and function like a normal human.
He's concentrating on assembling his bowl—he never has this much fresh fruit in his apartment, and Alfred even cut them up! - when he sees Tim leaning close to Damian.
"You okay? Just pick whatever you like; Alfred's food is great." And yeah, the kid's plate is still empty.
"I'm sure of it, but I am not overly familiar with typical american breakfeast food" Damian says, before leaning closer to Tim and whispering something to him. Dick had the same problem when he arrived at the Manor. Alfred is a great cook, but he was used to making complex meals with a flavour palate that was completely foreign to Dick who grew up eating much simpler foods that didn't need hard to find, hard to store ingredients.
He starts to get up to help, and Damian's attention snaps to him, body tense like he's waiting for Dick to throw himself across the table to attack him or poison his food or something. Which given everything Dick knows about the League might not be that far from the truth. Tim shakes his hand, a quick abort movement and Dick sits back down, watching as Tim piles some food on the plate, quitly explaining what is what.
Damian makes a face when Tim offers both pancakes and bacon on the same plate, but looks happy enough with the eggs and vegetables.
"So, does Jack know you're back in Gotham?" Dick asks, trying to make some conversation.
"No," Tim groans. "I wasn't planning on coming back yet, and there was no time to call him yesterday. It's not like I can tell Dad that Batman picked me up from Paris when he doesn't even know I left the country. I'm so dead; he'll kill me when I go home," he murmurs into his cup of tea.
It's times like this when Dick is glad he was not in Tim's shoes when he was Robin. He would do anything to get his parents back, but sneaking out behind their back to be a vigilante? He's pretty sure that would've been impossible. It's honestly a miracle Jack is so unobservant that he never notices how Tim's absences align with Robin dealing with something serious.
"What? Why would you go back if it would get you killed?" Damian demands, turning towards Tim, worry clear on his face. It's very cute, in Dick's opinion. He glares at Dick then. "Are you so incompetent that you would send Timothy into danger instead of dealing with it?"
"No, no, it's not like that!" Tim shakes his head. "My dad will not kill me or hurt me or anything. He will probably ground me, maybe take away my TV or something. He might even pull the 'I will send you to boarding school' threat, but I won't be in any danger. Dick, or Bruce for that matter, would never send me knowingly into danger. Well, without backup or knowing I can handle it, okay?"
"Okay." Damian nods, much more serious than a little kid.
"And even if he grounds me, I'll just sneak out. I live in the manor next door, and because of the cave system beneath Gotham, I have direct access to the Batcave. I can show it to you tonight so you'll know how to get me in case of an emergency." Tim looks down at his empty plate. "I should probably get going. Dad is probably still home, and I want to get through the whole lecture as soon as I can. Bruce, I'll be here for patrol, but I'll let you know if I can't make it, okay?"
Bruce makes a little grunt, which is honestly more reaction than Dick has been expecting. As soon as Tim is out of the room, Damian also stands up. "May I be excused?"
He waits just until Dick gives a nod, and then he's out of the room as well.
Dick is lounging in one of the old sitting rooms that has long been turned into a living/family room, updating Babs on the whole situation, when Damian wanders into the room.
He has his katana in his hands and honestly, looks more ready for battle than he should. His shoulders are drawn back and his face is in an impressively blank mask. Dick can't decide if it's something he learnt in the League or inherited from Bruce.
"I assume you wish to fight me now that Timothy has left the premises" the kid announces, like fighting an elementary schooler has ever crossed Dick's mind. "It was clever of you to test if he will defend me this morning, but I'm no coward and I will accept your challenge."
This mornin- oh. Damian thinks he actually attacked Tim, instead of just roughhousing a little. Well, at least he didn't push Tim off a bridge this time. That would've been much harder to explain. But he can see how someone who grew up in the League might confuse innocent fun with an actual attack.
"I don't want to fight you. I was just playing with Tim, nothing more" he says, hoping it will be enough. Given how Damian looks at him, it's not.
"Do not play dumb. Me being here is a threat to your position as heir to Batman, and it is well within your right to assess my abilities."
Oh, so this is a League thing. Dick knew they were hiearchial, but not to this degree. He probably can't convince Damian he has no intention of ever being Batman again or that he doesn't want to fight him—or more precisely, beat Damian to show him his place or whatever Damian is expecting to happen—but he can probably delay the whole thing, and hopefully the kid will be in a better headspace by then and will believe that nobody will fight him here.
"I truly don't want to fight you right now Damian. You're injured, it wouldn't be fair."
He can see that it was not the right thing to say. Damian glares at him, looking surprisingly similar to Talia in that moment, before leaving the room.
He turns back at the door. "I do not need your pity, Grayson."
Well, this could've gone better.