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avaritia-apotheosis · 3 years

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Phantom Children Ch. 8

What's this? An update! Massive thanks to my betas for helping me get through this chapter <3

In Which: A few answers are given to the family and Danny is rudely awoken

[Side note: If you wanna know the general ages of the batfam, its listed in the AO3 version. I also talk about katanas in the end notes ^-^]

AO3 | Prologue | 7 | [ 8 ] | 9 DAMIAN INFORMED TODD—and Drake when he arrived on his bike sometime later on—that the boy whose face is plastered across the monitor was neither a picture of himself nor of Father.

Drake took one glance at the monitor and sighed, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Just when I thought this day was getting better.”

“What, did that café on 5th finally let customers supersize their drink?”

“God that would be the dream, wouldn’t it?” Drake sighed wistfully. “Nah, but I did get a lead on where some of that stolen Cadmus tech might’ve ended up. I was gonna spend the night following up on it, but I guess we have to deal with,” he gestured to the monitor, “whatever this is.”

Todd leaned against the edge of the computer, arms crossed over the red bat insignia on his chest. “What are we dealing with this time, brat? A clone? An alternate universe counterpart? Magic shenanigans?”

Maybe. Perhaps. All of those were perfectly valid conclusions for the enigma that was Daniel James Fenton. (Why Fenton and not al Ghul? Or even Wayne?)

Damian, too, was a genetic experiment; a ‘test tube baby’ as Drake put it at times. Damian was born for greatness, created to be perfect. The perfect soldier. The perfect assassin. The perfect heir. Was this boy—Daniel—like him as well?

A failed one, then. Perhaps the precursor to Damian’s own existence. But that would not explain why the boy was allowed to exist for so long. His grandfather demanded perfection, especially from those of his own blood. If the boy was a failure, he would have been eliminated immediately, not sent to live with some eccentric scientists in the Midwest.

Damian was not naïve enough to think that his mother and grandfather did not keep secrets from him. On the contrary, he expected it. The League of Shadows dealt in secrets as often as it did in death. Certain information was worth its weight in gold, whether it was given or buried away.

But he could not help the sharp pang in his chest. A lightning strike, quick and electrifying at the notion that they kept secrets about their family from him.

His father’s face flashed in his mind. The shock turned into a slow, dawning horror. That flicker of light, of recognition, as he scrutinized the contents of the flash drive and cross-referenced it with a public database.

And grief.

Damian recognized the grief.

Alfred, too, nearly dropped his tray of fresh-baked cookies when he stepped in front of the monitor. His usual unflappable demeanor was momentarily broken at his father’s whispered “Sixteen years. Alfred— he’s sixteen years old.”

His father knew of the boy. He was allowed to know of Daniel when he was not allowed to know about Damian.

------

Grayson returned to the cave with a distinct lack of energy in his step. His mask dangled off the tips of his fingers, chin angled downwards and covered largely by his hand. For a split second, their eyes met. Grayson shifted his gaze away, scratching the back of his neck. Father told him, then. Damian wondered how much Father revealed to his favorite son.

Damian clucked his tongue and buried himself deeper into the chair, arms crossed and pointedly looking away. If it was not for his accursed ankle, he’d have headed out to the training ring to take his frustrations out on the dummies.

“Oh, thank god you’re here, Dickface. Damian’s completely out of it.”

Damian shot him a look. “Shut up, Todd.”

“Leave him alone, Jay. Is Tim back yet?”

Drake emerged from the changing room in a dark green shirt, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. He took one long sip before exhaling. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“O-kay…” He pressed his hands together, mouth thinned into a grim line. “Uh, hey Tim, glad to see you back safe. Bruce is coming down soon to explain some things.” He let out a deep sigh, carding a hand through his hair. “This kind of thing would probably be better with the girls around, but I—god, I don’t know.”

Todd raised an eyebrow. “Don’t know whether to call Steph and Cass in Hong Kong, or don’t know what’s going on?”

“Yes.”

------

When Father arrived, Pennyworth following dutifully behind him, it was with an aching slowness in his gait. His steps measured and precise, preternaturally quiet as he made his way to stand by Damian’s chair. Damian sat up straighter, shoulders squared and back an inch away from the backrest. The rest, even Todd, stood at attention; an ingrained habit among Robins and an amusing instinct even among the senior heroes of the Justice League when it came to facing the Batman.

His father kept a steady hand on Damian’s shoulder, and Damian, shamefully, leaned into the touch; his head inclined towards his father’s hand so much so that he could feel the ends of his hair being pushed up slightly as he brushed against his father’s forearm.

He spoke with his usual monotone, as if he was heading a Justice League meeting as opposed to unveiling the secrets surrounding that boy. He brought forward the few photos they obtained from the flash drive. “A few weeks ago, we were alerted of suspicious movement from the League of Shadows in Amity Park, Illinois. Their objectives are, as of now, unclear, though it appears to be tied to the death of Amity Park resident, Daniel Fenton.”

One photo was a standard ID picture people get for their driver’s license, the lighting deliberately horrible so that any attempt to look decent would always end in failure. Another photo was a little better; a candid scene of him chatting with two others his age, a Caucasian girl in gothic-style clothes and an African-American holding a sleek, but still very outdated PDA. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners, hand reaching up to his face to stifle a laugh. There were other photos like this, some candid, others posed. At the forefront of each, a boy that looked too much like his father, too much like Damian.

His father glanced at the photos. He shut his eyes and when he opened them again, he fixed them on some distant stalactite in the Cave. “Around six months ago, Daniel was pronounced dead in a vehicular accident. A body was present, but according to police reports, he was identified via his driver’s license as opposed to any kind of DNA profiling.” He leaned over Damian’s chair to pull up a profile of Masters. “Our source—Vladimir Masters, mayor of Amity and a friend of the Fenton family—indicated his belief that Daniel is actually alive. I am inclined to agree.”

“He’s your son, isn’t he,” Drake said, more of a statement than a question.

Father gave a curt nod. “I cannot say for certain until I can perform a DNA test, but I highly suspect that to be the case.”

“First the demon spawn, now this. Great.” Todd made a hand motion towards the screen. “You know, Bruce, not knowing you have a kid once might be a coincidence, but twice? How do you do that?”

“As of three hours ago, I was still under the impression that my son never made it to term.”

“What?”

“Over sixteen years ago I was involved in a mission that put Ra’s and I on the same side. During that time, Talia and I entered a relationship that resulted in a pregnancy. Though initially ecstatic, she eventually led me to believe she miscarried the child and pushed me away. For what ends, I do not know, but trust me Jason, if I knew—” He paused, the hand that was not on Damian’s shoulder curled into a tight fist.

Father pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why she hid it from me then doesn’t matter. Why Talia wants him back now is important. Judging from Daniel’s records, he was adopted into the Fenton family as an infant and has since lived a seemingly normal life as a civilian. His adoptive parents, Jack and Maddie Fenton, are brilliant scientists and engineers focused on the field of paranormal studies. Eccentricities aside, they have zero connections to the League of Assassins or any other concerning parties.”

“So why now?” Dick asked, shifting his concerned gaze from Bruce to the static picture of Danny’s tired smile. “Why, after all this time, decide that now would be the best time to recover him?”

------

Danny’s experienced plenty of rude awakenings before, but waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to avoid his kidnapper-slash-assassin-slash-biological-mom launching a surprise attack takes the fucking cake. He can’t believe he’s saying this, but thank god for all those late night ghost attacks that conditioned him to be a light sleeper. And, of course, the League’s insistence that everyone be in optimal condition regardless of how little sleep you actually got.

Danny kicked Talia off of him, ripping his blanket away before scrambling to his feet. Seriously, if the universe decided to spontaneously give him powers again, he’d really like an upgrade to his ghost senses, please and thank you. Something that works on humans and not just ghosts. Like spidey-senses. He’d really, really like some spidey-senses.

“Your reaction times have improved considerably,” Talia said.

He eyed the katana sheathed beside his bedroll. “Thanks. Who could have guessed that constantly challenging someone to a spar in the unholy hours of morning would make them paranoid to sleep too much? Really, how am I supposed to grow taller at this rate? ” If he could just get it--

She smiled, taking a step forward. “Prepare yourself.”

“Heh.” Danny stepped further away from Talia, keeping his back to the mouth of the cave. One hand stretched in front of him and the other, coated in a green light, was kept hidden behind his back. “Am I actually gonna get some answers today?”

“Let us make it interesting. Last 10 minutes against me and I shall tell you more about your brother.” Talia twirled her blade. “If you happen to draw blood, you may ask any one thing of me.”

“Anything?”

“Within reason.”

His face caught between a grimace and a smile. He’d rather be sleeping right now, but if he had to be awake, then he’d better make the most of it. “Deal.”

Talia’s smile dropped. She veered her body to the right, barely dodging the streak of bright green that whizzed from behind her. The ectoplasmic energy that surrounded the katana bled away as the handle connected with Danny’s outstretched hand.

She quickly glanced back at Danny’s bedding. Beside it lay an empty sheath. “You have telekinesis?”

He shrugged. “It comes and goes.” Yeah, no way was Danny gonna admit that seven-out-of-ten-times he forgot that he had telekinesis. Besides, that shit was hard to do when he wasn’t Phantom.

“A surprise attack from behind is a sound strategy, Daniel. Though it’ll take a lot more than that to harm me.”

Danny pointed to the side of his cheek. “Are you sure about that?”

Talia frowned. She reached up to her face. Her fingers brushed against her cheek and came away with a thin streak of blood.

Danny grinned, pointing his blade at his opponent. “First blood goes to me.”

------

Fact: most fights don’t last long. An average street fight could last anywhere between 25 to 40 seconds, and sword fights rarely last over a minute. Like Talia said, the goal of a fight was to end it with as few injuries to oneself as possible. Humans, even the most skilled ones, can rarely last long in a fight. Prolonged combat is suicide; it makes you tired, makes your muscles heavy. It’s nothing like what Hollywood would have you believe.

Even with Danny’s own enhanced stamina and Talia holding back, he couldn’t last a full ten-minute spar. If Talia didn’t finish him within twenty-five seconds, then he’d fall by his own human limitations.

But the goal wasn’t to spar continuously for ten minutes.

He only had to last that long.

Danny sprinted out of the cave. The sun barely peeked out of the horizon, a thin line of deep orange breaking apart the wide expanse of blue-black sky above. He couldn’t see shit; great news since that meant there’s a good chance Talia couldn’t either, but that doesn’t fix the fact that he can’t see.

Nearly stumbling on the ice, Danny veered to the left. The edges of the lake stopped at towering rocks twice Danny’s height, leaving little room for cover. Though if he remembered correctly, there should be a few crevices here and there to hide in.

“You’ll have to be faster than that, Daniel.”

Shit—

Danny stopped. He brought his sword up to parry Talia’s strike and twisted away, putting distance between them.

Well, so much for just avoiding her for 10 minutes.

He adjusted his grip, keeping his sword steady and eyes trained on Talia as they circled each other. Danny lunged with an overhead strike. Talia used one hand to block the downswing by gripping his wrists. She thrust her sword forward, the tip harshly poking Danny’s abdomen.

“Less than three minutes.” Talia let his wrist go, Danny’s arms slumping to his sides.

He sighed as he sheathed his sword. “Damn, I thought I’d last longer than that.”

“You made a good effort,” Talia assured him. “Putting as much distance between us at the beginning was a good strategy. You recognized the win conditions immediately and attempted a battle of attrition.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am very proud of you habibi, especially as you managed to draw first blood.”

A warmth grew in Danny’s stomach at the words, heating his cheeks. Sheepishly, he scratched the back of his head. “I wasn’t entirely sure that would work, honestly.”

“It was clever; half a second later and you might have even killed me. You are an al Ghul through and through” She brushed his hair out of his face. “What would you like as your prize, then?”

Danny’s heart clenched. He frowned, dropping his arm to his side. If I was such an al Ghul, then why didn’t you keep me? The question lodged itself in his throat, stifling his thoughts. It was something he’d been wondering for a while, actually, in the moments of solitude he had at the compound. Talia, during their training, would always remark at his potential. How talented he was, how adaptable he was, how much greater he would have been if he had been trained at a younger age.

Well then, why wasn’t he? Why did she give him up?

But each time he tried to ask, his tongue would turn to lead and the moment would pass, the question still left unsaid and simmering at the back of his mind. A Pandora’s Box that held none of the world’s evil but all of Danny’s possible shortcomings.

He could ask the question now.

He could.

He didn’t.

“Why did you take me?”

Talia tilted her head. “It is because you’re my son.”

“No. Not that. It has to be something more than that. You had sixteen years to come back for me—or, hell, you could have just never left me.” His breath hitched, fingers mussing his hair and hiding his eyes. “Why else did you take me?”

“It is true that there was more than one reason why we decided to retrieve you from Amity Park. One of which is because you are my son and an heir of the Demon’s Head.” Talia stilled. The dark skies of dawn made it impossible for him to read her. “The second reason was to protect you.”

“You kidnapped me…to protect me?”

“Knowledge of the ghosts of Amity have spread through the more insidious parts of the world. There are many out there who would pay exorbitant fees to study one of you or to use you.”

Use him? What did she mean by—

Oh.

Ghosts—Amity Park’s brand of ghosts—were a new element that the world had to contend with. Amity Park might have a crime rate of zero but that wasn’t the case everywhere else. Theft, assault, murder; the world was rampant with crimes and criminals clawing their way to the very top. Having ghosts, even ones with the most basic powerset, would be a huge advantage.

“There’s no way that would work,” Danny insisted. “Most ghosts just want to be left alone, and the ones that want to wreak havoc would never work with humans. The only reason they even work with halfas like me at times is because they still consider us as ghosts.”

“If my sources are to be believed, ghosts might not even get a choice.”

Danny’s blood curdled in his veins.

No.

Someone’s found a way to control ghosts.

#danny phantom #batman #danny phantom x batman crossover #dp fic #phantom children.txt

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batfamspews · 3 years

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Red Robin and Jason have been battling each other in an abandoned building for the past fifteen minutes and the fight ended with Jason victorious and Tim flat on his back on the ground. Both of them are bleeding and have several internal wounds.

Jason: *going to jump out of a nearby window* It’s been fun, replacement! Though I have to admit, I think you’re getting a little rusty. You used to be so strategic, but now you’re just pure chaos. I like the change but it makes you pretty easy to beat. Probably should start thinking things through again.

Tim: *deadpan, unflinching, staring at the ceiling*

Jason: *Confused because just a couple of seconds ago Tim was bustling with squirrel-like energy* Hey man, you good?

Tim: Yeah man just rethinking my life.

Jason: Ah. *goes to jump out the window but then hesitates and looks back at Tim. Not a single muscle in his body has flinched. Jason figures he had better stick around and keep an eye on him since he’s pretty sure he heard bones breaking during their fight and he wants to make sure he didn’t paralyze or give Tim brain damage.* You wanna talk about it? *goes and sits down next to Tim*

Tim: Eh, life sucks, you know? Fight all night, work all day, study. I’m supposed to be the smart one, right? What if I can’t keep up? What if I crack and lose it? What if someone smarter comes along? Besides, I can’t help but feel like I’m just ticking every one off.

Jason: *surprised but slightly amused that his straight-rod, genius brother would have such a poor opinion of himself* Heeeey, come on, little Red! You don’t suck that much! I mean, I do get sick and tired of your virtuous crap every once and a while, hence me beating you to a bloody pulp right now, but you’ve got a good head and heart! What’s making you feel so down?

Tim: …

Tim: Tried to make supper the other night. Alfred got food poisoning. He’s still in the hospital.

Jason: So you’re guilty?

Tim: *smiles* Yes but that’s just a part of it. I’m in charge of making my own food now, but since I’m scared that I’ll poison myself I’ve only been drinking a concoction I made up a while ago that I know won’t kill me.

Jason: Yeah? What?

Tim: Iced coffee made with Red Bull instead of water.

Jason: …

Jason: ……. .. . …

Jason: That sounds disgusting

Tim: It absolutely is.

Jason: How long has this been going on?

Tim: About a week?

Jason: ??? And that’s all you’ve had?

Tim: I mean, I ate some Nachos last night and I have an emergency stash of pop tarts in my room that I finished off the first two days.

Jason: ???????

Jason: AND YOU DONT EAT OUT WHY???

Tim: *shrugs* The Red Bull iced coffee gives me energy. Kinda sucks though because I crash when it wares off and have another identity crisis. I should really get some more before the tremors.

Jason: CHRIST TIMOTHY I THOUGHT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE SMART???

Tim: You know, there’s a line between intelligence and wisdom- oh crap here they come. Totally jinxed myself.

*Jason stares in disbelief as Tim’s whole body starts shaking. He start to say something but Tim- doubled over in pain- holds up a hand to make him wait. The tremors stop after a few seconds.*

Tim: I should probably grab some more coffee or something before that happens again. You wouldn’t happen to have an energy drink on you, wouldja? I’d get some myself, but I’m pretty sure you broke something in my leg and it hurts to move it.

Jason: For the love of God, Tim, you need professional help. Call Bruce to come pick you up???

Tim: I don’t really feel like talking to Bruce right now. I don’t want to get lectured again.

Jason: …

Jason: Fair enough, but I’m not leaving you here like this. I may not be an exceptional brother or anything but I’m pretty sure it would be considered child abuse if I let you torture yourself this way.

Tim: *laughs* you just broke my bones and beat me into submission.

Jason: you were being annoying.

Tim: And besides, Bruce doesn’t stop me.

Jason: IF YOU THINK FOR ONE SECOND THAT IM GOING TO LET YOU PUT ME ON THE SAME LEVEL AS THAT MAN THEN YOU ARE DEAD WRONG. *Basically picks Tim up*

Tim: ??? Where are we going?

Jason: TO MY APARTMENT SO YOU CAN GET THE PROFESSIONAL CARE THAT YOU REALLY NEED.

Tim: Bruce is gonna be ticked. I’ve still got another hour on patrol.

Jason: IF YOU THINK FOR A SINGLE GOSHDANG MOMENT THAT IM GOING TO LET YOU STAY OUT HERE WITH A BROKEN BONE AND CAFFEINE-INDUCED SEIZURES THEN YOU ARE DEAD WRONG!

Tim: I don’t wanna tell him that-

Jason: GOOD BECAUSE I DO. HOLY COW, TIM, ARE THE OTHERS AS BAD OFF AS YOU ARE?

Tim: I mean? Dick’s been out of town so I’m gonna assume he’s doing fine. The Kents have invited Damian’s vegan butt into their household until Alfred recovers. Pretty sure Babs, Steph and Cass are surviving on hot pockets and chicken nuggets.

Jason: NOT MY GOOD GOOD GIRLS! That’s it, you’re coming home with me and are not leaving until you are fully recovered. I’m gonna call the girls too. Tonight you four are going to have a round, home cooked meal. *carries him down the stairs* Geez, kid, you’re skin and bones. On no accounts should you be this light. And you look like a zombie! Is this just the malnutrition, or are you not sleeping either?

Tim: I mean, I’ve passed out a couple of times…

Jason: TIMOTHY DRAKE WAINE

Tim: The caffeine made sleeping virtually impossible, though now that it’s wearing off I do feel a bit drowsy…

Jason: Normally I would not give an idiot like you the permission to rest while I’m helping them out but for the love of everything that is holy, Timothy, go to sleep!

Tim: Dope. *immediately passes out*

Jason brings Tim to his apartment and puts him on the couch. Jason already has a nutritious vegetable and beef stir fry ready for the girls when they arrive. He’s also made broth that Cass spoon-feeds Tim when he wakes up shaking. They’ve all turned off their coms, so when Batman desperately calls Red-Hood’s home phone for help, Jason tells him what a horrible father he’s been lately and that even a problem child like himself would make a better parent. Cass, Steph and Babs leave after supper, but have agreed with Jason to eat lunch and supper at his place until Alfred got back. Jason called Nightwing up, told him the situation and asked him to come back to Gotham to deal with Bruce. The next morning Jason brought Tim to the hospital to get an X-ray done on his leg. When they found out it was fractured, Jason arranged for a very exhausted but thankful Tim to stay at his apartment until it healed, even when Alfred recovered. During that period he was able to break Tim’s eating habits and introduce him to healthier options. According to Jason, “I might be a ‘danger to society’ and a ‘homicidal maniac,’ but at least I can make a half decent home cooked meal for my poor starving siblings!”

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anothertimdrakestan · 4 years

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Helping The Batboys With A Nightmare HC (Batboys x Reader)

“What's your headcanon for Batboys and their s/o when the boys have a nightmare?“

I love this! We stan fluffy batboys always! Thank you for the wonderful request love!

Please ignore any typos and stuff this is part of my morning of shorts and headcanons!

Damian Wayne

- Dami whimpers and twitches when he’s having a nightmare and it will usually wake you up

- his light snores will change into choked noises and twitching eyes like he’s panicking and look around in his dreams

- you’ve learned not to leave the bed because it really freaks him out, you’re like a security blanket to him

- you will give him a soft shake, he’ll slightly jolt awake in fear before settling on you and calming down

- he will sometimes wake up wiping away tears he doesn’t want you to see from scary memories that were trying to attack him in his sleep

- not much can comfort him, he often won’t want to talk about what the nightmare was until the morning so you’ll just hold him and whisper things like “I’m here baby” or “Dami love it’s okay!” while he traces indistinguishable patterns on your skin

- watching his breaths go from ragged and short to deep and slow tells you he’s calming down

- you always stay awake until he falls asleep, his light snores are a sign that he’s okay now and your job is done

Tim Drake

- this boy shakes when he has a nightmare

- you’ll wake up to him huddled away from you because he doesn’t want to wake you up

- pulling him towards you, you focus on holding his shaking hands until the stop and he can take deep breaths

- It’s therapeutic for Tim to talk about his nightmares so the two of you will pour over them together, debunking ideas that Bruce is gonna kick him out or you’re gonna leave him

- Tim is scared of being left alone, so the majority of his nightmares involve his family and loved ones letting go of him and you’ve gotten great at reminding Tim of how much his family and you love him.

- peppering his face with kisses to show how much you love him

- Tim doesn’t like to fall back asleep so you’ve made a habit of getting up before the sun and making a crazy awesome spread of breakfast foods with Tim at like 3am to wipe away the nightmare

- nothing is a better nightmare killer than dancing around the kitchen early in the morning, slightly covered in a layer of flour making out with your best friend

Jason Todd

- Jason’s nightmares are graphic and horrific, they often end with him jolting up screaming or panting

- you’ll spring up with him and immediately know what’s wrong

- you’ll go to grab him a glass of water while he steadies himself

- holding his hand giant hand with both of yours while he takes small sips of water

- to take his mind off the nightmare you’ll make horrible jokes that make him cringe

- “hey hey hey Jay who does a penguin build it’s house? Igloos it together HAAHAHAH”

- he genuinely gets second hand embarrassment for how bad your jokes are but they always put a small smile on his face

- usually you’ll get him to go back to bed, he’ll wrap his arms around you and hold you a little tighter than usual to remind himself that you’re alive and well

- the morning after he’s always super sweet to you, making sure to thank you even though you tell him it’s nothing

- “hey babe- it means a lot to me that you’ll comfort me. Thank you” he’s so wholesome and loving after a nightmare but after a few hours he’ll revert back to his usual self

- “why don’t you ever comfort me with sex? I think I read that it’s supposed to be really healing or something” “Jay we both know you didn’t read shit”

Dick Grayson

- Dick’s nightmares are rare so he’ll usually shake you awake

- his eyes will meet yours and you just know something is wrong

- you’ll cuddle him and ask him what happened

- his normally strong and confident voice will be shaky and confused, the nightmare having stripped him of his confident glow

- coaxing the fear away from him and reminding him that it’s just a dream

- it always helps him to talk about it because once he says what happened out loud he’ll know that it was just a dream and can’t happen in real life

- the conversation will develop and grow until you’ve stayed up all night talking and learned more about Dick and yourself

- when the sun starts to rise you both will try to fall asleep and catch a few hours of sleep before you have to get up

- Dick is always super affectionate and thankful, sometimes he’ll bring you flowers that night as a little thanks for the undying love

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catxsnow · 4 years

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Fluff alphabet with Tim? 🥺👉🏽👈🏽

ah you know I love Tim Drake more than anything

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

I'm a firm believer that Tim likes to admire your hands. He loves to hold them and play with your fingers. Most importantly, he loves when you run them through his hair. Late nights of working you'll massage his neck and shoulders and Tim just melts into you.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Yes. Tim doesn't want to have kids until he's completely out of there hero gig. He doesn't want t to pull a Bruce and have his kid be raised like a Robin rather than just a normal kid.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Tim's a I'm-gonna-hold-you-as-close-as-I-can-for-as-long-as-I-can kinda guy. It doesn't matter how as long as you're there. His favourite is when he's the big spoon. D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Bruce taught him well when it came to expensive dates. He would always spoil you with a ridiculously fancy meal but the second that you got home was when your favourite part of the date would occur. The both of you would get into comfy clothes and get Alfred to set up a movie for you. E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world...))

You are the light at the end of this tunnel F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

It took Dick to point it out to Tim. Love wasn't on his mind until his brother off-handedly said it one day and he couldn't stop thinking about it. He knew it was true when he saw you next and he couldn't imagine what his life would be like without you. G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Extremely so. Tim sees a lot of terrible things in his life and he doesn't want to show that side of him with you. He's always delicate around you even though he knows you could take some gruesomeness sometimes. The worst is when he's sleeping next to you and he has a nightmare. He's terrified that he's going to accidentally hurt you. H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Tim's a classic intertwined fingers kinda guy. He loves to draw little shapes in your skin with his thumb. Second favourite is when he's sitting in the computer hair down in the cave and your rest your hand on his shoulder - he'll always grab it and rest it there. I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

If someone can deal with Damian's attitude for ten minutes straight like you did, he was sure that there was nothing that could get you angry. Tim knew you were the one when he saw you stay calm with his family. J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Mildly. Tim doesn't feel the need to get jealous but when someone takes it too far with you he can't stop himself. He'll always put himself between you and the person you're talking to and if he's really feeling jealous he'll kiss you as well. K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

Tim was the one who initiated it. You were working on something together and he just swooped in for a kiss. Even though it was just a peck you pulled him back for longer. Tim is handsy when he kisses you. Whether his hands are rested on the side of your face or your hips, he needs to hold you.

L = Love (Who says 'I love you' first?)

It's some weird crazy accident that the two of you say it at the exact same time. You're laying together in his bed, half asleep but refusing to let it happen. You both mumble it at the same time. M = Memory (What's their favourite memory together?)

You asked if Tim could take you out in the city while he was Red Robin. Obviously he wasn't going to fight crime while you were there, but he took you swinging around the city on his grappling gun. He still can hear your laughter and screams of excitement. N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Yes. Tim's rich, he buys you whatever you want no matter the cost. Not to mention whenever Bruce throws a Gala he buys you the most expensive dress on the market for you to wear to it. He spoils you as much as he can. O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Green. It's the opposite of red. Tim hates thinking about his life as Red Robin when he's with you and he always associates the color red with that life. Since green is the exact opposite of it, and you're the exact opposite of all the gruesome horrible things he bares, he thinks of you when he sees it. P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

my love, cutie, baby, when he's teasing you he calls you princess Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

The only time Tim is excited to step away from his computers is to spend it outside with you. Walks in the park or even around his massive yard with you brighten his day tenfold. R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Bruce instilled it in him to train. Most days he does and you're just sitting off to the side admiring him. It's not his favourite go to, but it sure as hell is one of yours. Tim likes to go shopping in the mall on rainy days and you can't change my mind. S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Before you, Tim had a bad habit of letting himself self-destruct when he was upset. You ensured him that whenever he was feeling down that he should go to you first. It took him a while to accept your help, but now he comes to you with his body slouching and in need of your touch. Tim doesn't always need advice from you, sometimes he just needs to know that you're supporting his choices. T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Tim loves to talk about his friends. He always goes on these amazing adventures and missions with them and he loves to talk about how cool they are to you. Conner, Cassie and Bart are basically your best friends as well after you hear so much about them. To be fair, when he's with them, he talks about you even more. U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

There's nothing better than you offering a massage to him after a long day. Tim will lay on your bed, shirt off and just melting into your kneading hands. It nearly puts him to sleep every time. V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

As Bruce Wayne's son, he loves to show off you. The paps always get pictures of the two of you together and he loves to know that the whole city sees just how perfect you are together. However, as Red Robin, he loves to show off all the people he saves to you. He's so incredibly proud of the work he does and you are too. W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

He proposes twice. Tim does it the first time in private. It's just the two of you in the comfort of his bed and being absolutely in love. He's just casually brings it up and you couldn't be more excited. However, being a Wayne kid he does it a second time in public. Very dramatic, very public, and very acted reactions. X = Xylophone (What's their song?)

Vivid by Brockhampton Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Yes. Tim loves you more than anyone in this world. Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

A cat. They take care of themselves and he doesn't have to worry about it dying when he disappears for three days straight.

#tim drake #tim drake imagine #tim drake x reader #red robin #red robin imagine #red robin x reader #dc #dc fluff #dc imagine #fluff #batfam

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vikingpoteto · 4 years

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problem solver

Read on AO3

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Relationships: GEN. Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne

Summary: Tim's job has always been fixing things up, giving everyone backup, making sure there is a contigency plan for the contigency plan and everything runs smoothly. However, even the best of them ought to grow exhausted and maybe - just maybe - Tim needs to learn that, when you have your family's back, they're willing to return the favor.

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He had had nightmares that felt sweeter than the present.

Even with his arm twisted in a painful lock behind his back and his cheek pressed to the ground, Tim doesn’t feel anything but fatigue. He thinks to himself that it’s been a while since the last time Jason had held him like that, like Tim was the enemy.

Tim doesn’t blame him, though. Even from where he is, he can see Dick kneeling next to Damian’s limp body. It’s a shame that Cass wasn’t around, really, she would’ve been fast enough to stop Tim. Or perhaps Duke, with his powers. But maybe not. They wouldn’t expect Tim to do that, so even the fastest of them wouldn’t have stopped him once he started moving.

There is a puddle of blood on the ground ant that’s an unpleasant sight.

Just that.

Unpleasant.

Damian isn't moving and Tim just wishes he didn’t have to see it.

“ Timothy ,” Jason hisses. When he notices Tim isn’t fighting, he loosens his grip a bit. When Tim still doesn’t move, Jason turns him around abruptly and shakes him by the shoulders. “Tim, what the fuck was that? Who did this to you? Who’s controlling you?”

Right. Of course Jason’s mind would go there. Jay had been out of control before, after all, he still didn’t believe Tim had done such a horrible thing. He should feel good that his brother has that much faith in him, but, again, it feels like nothing.

“It was me,” Tim says, his voice weak. “It was all me. I’m such a failure, aren’t I? But it’s fine. None of this is real.”

Tim had never seen Jason looking so horrified. He likes that about as much as the puddle of blood.

“It’ll be over soon,” Tim assures, and he glances at the giant computer screen. The clock says 00:59. It changes to 01:00. He closes his eyes just as he feels Jason’s hands leaving him.

He opens his eyes again. He’s still in the cave. Jason has retreated several steps and is now staring at Tim like never before, an emotion so intense he doesn’t know how to name. He turns around. Dick is now cradling Damian in his arms, but the boy is still not moving even as his older brother pathetically calls his name.

Tim doesn’t like that either, so closes his eyes again.

He opens his eyes. Nothing’s changed. He stares at the computer. 01:01, says the clock, but Tim isn’t waking up.

“Why am I not waking up?”

No one answers him. He still doesn’t wake up. Dick starts openly sobbing, but Damian doesn’t open his eyes to tell him to stop being a baby. Tim doesn’t wake up and Jason doesn’t approach him again and Tim doesn’t dare look at him, because he’s suddenly aware that Jason looking at him like that hurts a lot. Tim doesn’t wake up, but neither does Damian and he’s slowly realizing he’s the one that’s done that and nothing is happening to change that and that hurts more.

Tim is a problem solver. He had come to the Wayne Manor, joined the BatFamily because he was going to fix things, he was supposed to keep everyone safe-

Tim wakes up. He’s alone on his bed. The phone on the bedside table says it’s 1am, sharp.

On that night, Bruce is awake, as he is most nights. It isn’t his turn to patrol. He could be in his bed now, using the night off to get some rest.

However, as much as he chastises Tim for his (lack of) sleeping habits, Bruce can’t sleep, not even when he isn’t on duty. Especially when he isn’t on duty. He stalls, ignores Dick’s judgemental looks and ends up at the Batcave going over a cold case that might be active again, his eldest on his shoulder. He’ll sleep as soon as Cassandra and Duke come home.

Damian is at the computer reading a police report and Bruce has half a mind to send him to bed - he’s still figuring out the most efficient way to do so - when he hears rushed footsteps.

“DAMIAN!” Tim shouts from the entrance, his voice echoes horribly against the silence.

Bruce lets out a tired sigh, wondering what sort of prank it was this time. He watches as Tim darts down into the cave and makes a beeline to Damian, Bruce and Dick tensing up and getting ready to intervene in a fight as Damian jumps to his feet and stands on guard to… be wrapped tightly into Tim’s arms.

“Drake, what is the meaning of this?” Damian gasps, his voice breaking in his confusion.

Only then Bruce notices Tim’s shoulders are shaking. Tim squeezes his little brother tighter against his chest and lets himself fall to his knees, dragging Damian down a bit.

“Cease this absurd behavior right away!” Damian demands, glancing at Bruce and Dick as though expecting them to do something.

Both of them had been stunned into inaction, however.

“Y-you’re here,” Tim chokes out. Tim is crying. “I thought I- I thought I lost you.”

Damian’s eyes grow wide in utter panic. He finally wraps his tiny arms around the other boy. He again looks at his father in a silent, but clear plea of help.

As usual, Dick is faster to recover. “Timmy?” He calls, approaching his brothers and crouching down by their side. “Timmy, what’s going on?”

Tim simply shakes his head, his face buried into Damian’s chest and his body still trembling. Bruce knows Tim has been through a lot. All of them have. He knows Tim particularly is familiar with loss. Still, Bruce doesn’t remember ever seeing Tim breaking down like that.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers, “I’m so sorry, Dami, I really thought I- I-”

“You what? What has gotten into you, you energum?”

“I- I thought you were dead,” Tim whispers.

That finally shocks Bruce into moving. One of his children is breaking down in front of him, he has to do something. He joins Dick by kneeling in front of his youngest sons and slowly reaches for Tim’s shoulder.

“Tim, Damian is here. He’s safe. You both are,” he says.

Tim lets out a strangled laughter without any humor and Bruce doesn’t want to hear such a horrible sound ever again. “N-not thanks to me, he isn’t.”

Dick makes as if he’s going to try to pry Tim off of Damian to be able to see his face. Damian glares him down before he can do anything. Dick settles for squeezing his brother’s other shoulder and asking in a soft voice:

“Timmy, can you explain what’s going on? Did you have a nightmare?”

“ God . I wish,” Tim sobs, his voice still muffled into his brother’s chest. “Except I can’t wake up. I never wake up, not for real. Th-this why I don’t like sleeping.”

At loss, Dick turns to Bruce, worry twisting his expression and confusion in his eyes. As their father, Bruce should have answers. He doesn’t have answers. He simply watches his teenage son shake in utter grief no child should be so familiar with and he is powerless and confused. It feels awful to just sit back and know there is something for him to do, however it’s outside of his knowledge.

“C-compose yourself, Drake,” Damian tries again. But his voice is weaker now, a little hoarse. His little arms are still awkwardly looped around Tim and his gaze shows he’s petrified.

Dauntless and brash Damian looks like the 12-year-old he is, confused and scared. Damian, Bruce realizes, had never seen Tim breaking down. Tim is his rival, his infuriatingly logical and calculating brother that can take any situation swiftly and solve any problem by sheer force of will. Tim, that never wavered, even when Damian was trying his hardest to crack him.

Bruce can’t wallow in self-pity about his parental skills now. His pride is nowhere near as important as his children. “Tim,” he asks, being careful to keep his voice calm and collected. “Son, talk to me. What do you need from us?”

What he needs, what he wants. Whatever it is, Bruce will get it.

Tim hesitantly pulls away from Damian without letting him go. When he turns to his father, it takes every bit of Bruce’s strength to keep his calm mask. There are bags darker than usual under Tim’s clear eyes, his nose is crimson red and his usually bony face is puffy from so much crying. His helpless expression breaks Bruce’s heart in a million pieces.

“Jason,” Tim says, his voice hefty. “Bring Jason here. Please.”

Dick is already moving before Tim finishes his request. Bruce stays with his son.

“He’ll be here soon,” he says, certain. His last encounter with Red Hood had been less than ideal, but Bruce knows Jason won’t ignore a call from Dick and he especially won’t hesitate to come for Tim. “What else?”

“Just J-Jason. It has to be Jay.”

“That’s not what it looks like,” Damian mumbles, still caught in Tim’s embrace.

Tim lets out a little chuckle. Again it’s hollow, humorless. Bruce hates it.

“I’m sorry, Dami,” Tim mutters. “Just… Just a little bit more. I need this.”

“Tt. Do what you must."

Jason was asleep when he got the call. He wants to tell his brother to fuck off and go back to bed, but with their family business being like it is… Well. Jason knows it’s never a good idea to ignore a phone call. Dick sounded confused when he asked Jason to come over because Tim needs him and he couldn’t explain why.

It’s a good thing Jason doesn't need why. Dick says Tim is asking for him. Tim never asks for what he needs, not unless the world is ending. Jason was getting into his outfit and out of the door before Dick hangs up.

He doesn’t know what to expect when he rides into the cave. Dick assured him that Tim wasn’t physically hurt, he was just asking for Jason. He certainly didn’t expect to find his brother sitting on the computer chair with Damian on his lap.

It’d be cute if it wasn’t concerning. Damian is still short enough to sit there almost comfortably with Tim’s chin resting on his shoulder and Tim’s arms loosely wrapped around his middle. Damian has his arms crossed like the world's grumpiest teddy bear and a murderous expression that challenges Jason to laugh at the scene if he wishes for death.

Jason doesn’t laugh. Not when his eyes meet Tim’s and it’s clear that his brother had been crying not long ago. He ignores Bruce and Dick uselessly standing around and takes off his helmet before walking towards his younger brothers.

“What’s happening?” he asks.

When Tim speaks, his voice is almost to hoarse to recognize. “I’m stuck in a time loop.”

“Damn it. Again?”

His sarcastic reply makes Tim’s lips quirk up a bit. His expression returns to somber too fast for Jason’s liking.

“You’re the only one that always believes me right away,” Tim tells him.

As hypocritical as it is, Jason hates magic shit. Hates it.

“Alright. Let’s break your loop. What’s the last thing you remember before the loop?”

“It was 10pm. Alfred forced me to go to bed. Then I wake up three hours later and it starts.”

Jason glances at Bruce and Dick and they nod in confirmation that that’s their latests Tim memory too. He turns back to his brother.

“Alright. Any constants?”

While time loops are a first for them, they watched enough movies to know there is always something specific repeating itself.

Before answering, Tim hesitates and squeezes Damian again. Jason is surprised when the gremlin uncrosses his arms and awkwardly offers Tim a little pat on the hand.

“The thing that always happens is… You die.”

Jason goes stiff. He can hear Bruce and Dick reacting behind him, but he has to focus on keeping himself calm. Despite his own issues, this is still about Tim.

“Just me?” he asks, as casually as he manages.

“Just you.”

Slowly putting what he knows together, Jason glances at the protective way Tim is holding Damian. Of all of them to be stuck in a time loop, he thinks Tim is the most likely to think his way out. Of all of them, he has the best memory, he’s the one that finds it easier to put away his feelings in a little box and do what’s the best to be done. For him to be that distressed about Damian…

Jason doesn’t beat around the bush, the way he knows Tim prefers. “Tim, did you kill Damian on the last loop?”

Dick inhales sharply. Bruce doesn’t make any noise, but Jason figures he’s frozen in horror. Damian stares at Jason as if he’s gone mad as Tim squeezes him a bit tighter before slowly retreating into the chair. His arms are still around his younger brother, but all Damian had to do was to stand up and he’d be free of his hugging pillow duty. Damian doesn’t move, not even when Tim whispers:

“I did.”

Jason nods. He’s glad that Tim’s eyes are trained on his, because he doesn’t want to even imagine what kind of reaction Dick and Bruce are showing behind him.

“Wanna tell me what happened?”

Tim breathes in and out. “It was the seventy-first loop. You were teasing him over something stupid and he had that… that stupid katana. He said he was going to kill if you didn’t shut up and I...” At this point, he retreats fully into the chair, willingly putting distance between him and his little brother. “I didn’t think. I was on high alert for any threat, I just… I hit him with my staff. He fell. I hit him in the back of the head, and… he didn’t get up.”

Damian still doesn’t leave. His expression is unreadable.

“And… and I didn’t care. Dick was horrified, you restrained me and I just… I just got annoyed and waited. But then it was time, the loop didn’t restart and I-”

Tim runs out of breath and chokes on thin air, unable to continue for a moment. No one says anything, even Jason unsure of where to start. He also notices that the whole time Tim doesn't make any excuses for himself, like he does for the many people that hurt him in the past and he's forgiven. He doesn't use the word accident. He doesn't try to remind them he didn't mean to, even though he didn't. Jason thought Tim was making a lot of progress on the self-worth department lately, but apparently some steps backwards were taken.

“I thought it was over. I thought I cemented a timeline in which I killed my little brother. What kind of monster am I? How come my first instinct was to deadly wound anyone, let alone Damian? Then it restarted and… And I don’t know if I can do this anymore. Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe you guys should put me-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Damian hisses. He turns to face Tim, his tiny arms tightly crossed again and his eyes steeled with conviction. “I thought you were supposed to be smart, Drake.”

“Damian,” Jason starts in warning.

Damian makes a gesture to silence him and continues: “How can you think that’s your first instinct? That was hardly the first thing you’ve done. What sounds to me is that you watched your favorite brother die seventy times and you were pushed to the extreme. I would not call that bloodlust.”

Tim blinks. “But I didn’t…”

“Of course you didn’t care. You thought it was inconsequential. After watching a family member’s gruesome death so many times, you’d be desensitized as a defense mechanism. That’s only logical. As soon as you thought it might be real, however, you reacted as expected and came to me crying like a child.”

No one says anything for a moment. Damian deliberately leans backwards, pressing his back to Tim’s stomach.

“Besides, it was an accident. You didn’t attack to kill, you attacked to incapacitate and miscalculated the amount of strength needed. It happens to the best of us.”

Jason could have smiled at the kid. He thinks his lips quirk up against his will when Damian grabs Tim’s hands and pulls them so he’s being held again. Confusion replaces the lost look on Tim’s face for a bit.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but the gremlin is right. You’re fine, Timbers,” Jason says.

For a horrible moment, blue eyes become watery and Jason feels as though there is a knife twisting in his gut. He doesn’t remember the last time he’d seen Tim crying. It’s not one of his favorite experiences.

“Timmy,” Dick starts, his voice soft. “How long is every loop?”

“About 24 hours,” Tim says. “It restarts exactly at 1am.”

“And in all of those loops… how many times have you stopped to sleep? Or eat?”

Tim stares at his older brother as though he’s speaking an alien dialect. Dick sighs.

“Well, buddy, it sounds like you’ve been awake for 2 hellish months.”

“But… But I’m always in my room at 1am. Doesn’t that mean I got to sleep like Alfred wanted?”

“Well. We can’t know for sure, but you sure looks like someone that needs some rest,” Dick insists.

Tim tries to protest but Bruce walks to him and combs his fingers through his son’s hair. The touch is enough to shut him up.

“Let’s be practical, chum,” he says. “We need you to be okay to be able to help us. I don’t think you can as you are now. I need you to drink a glass of warm milk and take a nap for about an hour. While you rest, your brothers and I will do research into time anomalies. When you get up, you can join us. How’s that sound?”

A frown. Jason is ready to force him if he must. He resolves crumbles a bit when his little brother turns his gaze to him and asks in the smallest voice:

“Are you still going to be here when I wake up?”

Jason’s throat is clogged. He used to think that his early demise had been inconsequential and that hurt like hell. He didn’t think that it hurt just as much to learn that it mattered, that his family cared, that Tim cared so much, because Jason never ever wanted to be the reason behind that forlorn look in any of his brothers, let alone Tim. Tim who was always there for them, who always worked the hardest, who was Jason’s go0to prank partner, who laughed at his jokes and embraced him as family when he had every reason not to.

“I promise I will,” Jason manages. “You know I’m a man of word, Timbers.”

“We’ll take care of him for you,” Dick adds. “Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid until you’re back to scold him and all that.

Tim hesitates, glancing from one brother to the other and then to their father. He seems to try and assess his condition and recognizes he feels tired - if not physically, Jason doesn’t need to be a genius to know he must be emotionally exhausted. Finally, he nods.

Well, that had been a rollercoaster from start to… the middle? Damian doesn’t think this is the end per se. It’s best if they put their plan into action sooner better than later, so the boy finally jumps to his feet in order to leave his brother’s lap

“Very well,” he says, “I reckon I’m on Drake Duty, is that correct?”

“Drake Duty?” Timothy repeats, frowning.

Damian shoots him a haughty glare. “Forgive me if I don’t trust you, but you do have the habit of sneaking under our noses to do extra work when you’re supposed to be resting. I’ll be the one making sure you stay in your bed, as you should.”

Besides, Damian doesn’t think Timothy should be left alone as it is. Not that he minds, he just thinks the older boy is unstable and needs to be watched. He’s not worried, just cautious.

“Hm. I was actually going to take a nap at the reading den?” Timothy says. “I… I don’t want to be in my room right now.”

It’s to be expected that he wants to avoid the place where the loop starts, of course.

“Tim, you’re going to wreck your spine if you keep sleeping in the library,” Richard chastises gently.

Damian sighs. “If your room is the issue, mine should suffice, isn’t that right? You may take a rest in my bed.”

The surprised look Timothy gives him is outward insulting. Damian feels as though the others have the same expression, so his cheeks start getting warmer. Annoyed, he tuts and grabs Timothy's hand, starting to drag him away.

“Well? We should not be wasting time!”

“Uh. Yeah,” Timothy mutters. Then, sounding a bit more like his usual self, he tells the others: “We have yet to contact Doctor Fate or Zatanna, they do not pick up their phones. Constantine will answer if Dick’s the one calling, but the day restarted before we knew if he was any help. Bart and Wally have no idea about what’s going on, but uncle Barry had a hunch based on his last essay. Do not contact Booster Gold, his place is on fire and we wasted a lot of time putting it out and he was no help. … Maybe send someone there to help him?”

By then, Damian has successfully dragged Timothy out of the cave and their brothers and father were left to follow his directions. Damian briefly consideres forcing Timothy to sleep and joining them, but decides against it. Thomas and Cain should be joining them soon and he knows their father won’t rest until he finds an appropriate solution.

“You don’t have to do this, Dami,” Timothy says. “I promise I’ll actually sleep. I can take Jason’s bedroom instead. He hasn’t used it in ages, but I know Alfred didn’t leave it dusty.”

Damian ignores him.

“Really, you-”

“For someone that couldn’t let go of me until a couple of minutes ago, you’re sure talking a lot of nonsense,” Damian huffs. “I’m not Todd, but I know you enough that I'm sure that, the moment I leave your sight, you’re going to start torturing yourself.”

Timothy is silent after that. They go up the stairs like that and for the first time Damian doesn’t feel like a toddler while he holds someone’s hand. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s the one guiding or the strange situation. Despite everything, it isn’t entirely unpleasant. He considers for a moment telling Richard that he doesn’t hate hand-holding after all, but decides against it. Richard would definitely abuse that knowledge.

Alfred the cat is napping on Damian’s bed when they arrive. For a moment, Damian panics over having to kick out his precious pet - he has slept on the floor for Alfred before and he’d do it again - but, as soon as he sees his owner, Alfred mercifully stretches and moves to the bottom of the mattress, leaving plenty of free space.

Looking nothing like the, Damian begrudgingly admits, intimidating hero Red Robin, Timothy fumbles with the hem of his ratty hoodie and hesitates. The hoodie is purple and weirdly tight around the arms, so Damian suspects that it belongs to someone else. It gives him an idea.

“Do you need me to bring Brown over?” he asks.

Again, Timothy gives him a surprised look.

Stubbornly, Damian holds his gaze even when he feels his cheeks warming up. He knows he’s not suggesting anything outlandish, because he knows Brown’s unstoppable cheerfulness is on par with the Bats' unmoving angst. He also knows calling her is acceptable, because he heard Todd make the same suggestion once. Timothy was running himself to the ground over an unsolved case and snapped at Todd. Instead of putting Timothy in his place, Todd had simply rolled his eyes and asked Timothy in a whisper Damian is sure he wasn’t supposed to hear, do you want me to ask Steph to come over? and lo and behold, an hour later Brown was climbing inside and making a lot of noise. She forced Timothy to eat and the two ended up asleep together in the living room. On the following day, Timothy looked more like a human being.

“Steph is out of town,” Timothy says. “I tried calling her in a couple of loops. She’s always out of town.”

Oh.

If Brown isn’t around, Timothy has to settle for the next best thing, that would be… well, Todd. But Todd is busy, so the next best thing would be… Cain. Then Richard. … Then Thomas.

But alas! None of them are available so Damian will have to do.

“Well then,” he mumbles. “She’s too noisy anyway. Why are you still standing?”

Like a skittish stray, Timothy climbs beneath Damian’s blanket while Damian stands there, his hands on his hips and his foot tapping on the floor impatiently.

Once he’s settled, Timothy glances at him. “Are you going to just… stand there?”

Damian supposes it’s not ideal to try to sleep with a standing guard, is it? With another tut, he climbs into bed as well, glad that it’s big enough for the two of them and then some.

...then, seeing Timothy’s wide eyes, Damian realizes this isn’t the outcome he expected. Damian curses inwardly, because he can never predict what Timothy is thinking. Richard is ridiculously easy to read, as is Thomas. Todd and Cain he can understand to an extent. But Timothy? He’s a complete mystery.

“Hm. Dami, are…” Timothy struggles with his words. That’s a first. “Aren’t you afraid of me?”

Damian tries to kill him with a single glare. Timothy seems to find his expression amusing and relaxes a bit.

“Not like that, brat, you know I know you’re deadly, and all that. I mean… aren’t you wary of me after I said…”

“Do you want me to repeat the very solid arguments I already presented?”

“No, just… I get them, rationally. They make sense. But still.”

Damian sighs. “Still nothing. If that’s the case, shouldn’t you be wary of me? I did try to end you. Repeatedly.”

“That was a long time ago, though, we didn’t really know each other.”

“And, by all means, your traumatic experience was with a version of me I don't even know from a reality I’m not a part of. Go to sleep, Drake.”

They stay quiet for a moment. Timothy sits up abruptly. Before Damian can scold him, he grabs the alarm clock on the bedside table and sets it to go off one hour from now, which is smart, Damian will give him that. Then he glares until Timothy lies down again and they’re both on their sides, facing one another.

Alfred the cat stands again and comes lie down between the two boys. The room is completely silent save for soft purs and the even softer tick-tock coming from the nightstand.

Damian stares at his brother’s closed eyelids and he knows Timothy is wide awake.

“Do you really see me like that?” he hears himself whispering.

As expected, Timothy’s eyes shoot open. “Of course not, Dami.”

All right, ouch. That hurts.

“I know you would never hurt Jason,” Timothy proceeds. “That’s why I… that’s why I was so messed up. I knew you weren’t a real threat, not to him. But I still freaked, I still moved before I could think and I…”

Oh. Damian hadn’t considered that, but that’s reassuring. He nods briefly but soon adds:

“I don’t mean that. I mean what you said after.”

Timothy frowns. “What?”

“You know.”

“I really don’t.”

“Forget it.”

“No, Dami, what is it? You know I’m curious, I’m not gonna by able to sleep if you don’t tell me.”

The boy groans, because how is he the youngest in this situation?

“I meant… When you said I’m your little brother.”

“Oh.” Timothy blinks owlishly, his eyes growing big before his voice grows small: “I mean… yeah. I know it’s not mutual, but… You’re part of my family, Damian. Sure, an annoying, cocky part, but… I like having you around. I still love you. I wouldn’t want to send you away or to hurt you or… anything like that.”

Damian makes a dismissive noise and looks away. Timothy used to be more bearable. He wouldn’t say out loud those things to anyone when Damian first arrived. It was his time with that gang of hooligans that were Jon’s brother and the other two that ruined Timothy. He came back home a lot more willing to let Richard cling to him and comfortable saying such embarrassing things to Cain and Pennyworth and Todd and… and now Damian.

“Dami, did you… did you think I don’t see you as a brother?” Timothy asks.

More mumbling. Damian isn’t avoiding his gaze because he’s embarrassed, but because Timothy’s icy stare can be so stupidly intense it’s uncomfortable.

“I thought I burned that bridge a couple of attempted murders ago,” he finally admits.

“That happened to a version of me from a reality I’m no longer a part of.”

Another frustrated noise. He buries his face into the pillow.

“Damian.” Timothy calls. Annoyingly, he waits until Damian looks at him. It’s a trick he learned from Richard, Damian is sure. “You’re my little brother. For best or worse, I… I’ll never let something like the last loop happen. Ever.”

Damian doesn’t know what to say, so he remains silent. Timothy realizes he’s not getting any reply, so he simply closes his eyes again.

It seems unfair that Timothy has to make that whole speech when Damian is the one that’s supposed to be in charge. It feels like he’s losing somehow. Letting out a huff, Damian mutters:

“It is.”

“Hm?”

“You said it’s not mutual. That’s ridiculous. You can’t be someone’s relative one-sidedly. Of course it’s mutual.”

It takes a second for his words to register, and, when they do, Timothy finally lets his lips twist into that annoying smirk he usually wears. He looks genuinely happy, albeit in a tired way.

“Ugh, do not let Richard hear about this,” Damian groans, closing his eyes and turning his back to his brother

“Goodness gracious, I would never.” Timothy chuckles. His sarcasm is less effective when his voice is still hoarse from all the crying. “In exchange, promise me you won’t forget that on the next loop.”

Goddamnit, Damian has to turn back. “There will be no next loop.”

“Hmm.”

“Timothy? Look at me.” He does. Damian sustains his gaze. “There will be no other loop. We’re going to fix this as soon as we wake up. You have my word.”

A little hesitation, a lot of fear of holding onto hope. Timothy reaches for Damian’s hand.

“I believe you. So. Am I Timothy now?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Drake.”

“Thought so,” Tim says.

Tim allows himself to close his eyes. Damian’s hand is small and warm and undeniably alive. His older brothers are downstairs trying to fix this for him. His father is going to protect him, too. Soon his sister and his new brother will join them and there is no doubt in his mind that they’re going to have his back.

His family is going to solve it for him.

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redjaybathood · 5 years

Text

wedding happens!AU pt 2

pt 1 is here

Fandom: Batman, RHATO

Characters: Selina Kyle, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Ric Grayson, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, Isabel Ardila

Pairings: BatCat, implied BruJay*, Jason/Isabel

Gen

So: Catwoman doesn’t marry Batman - Selina Kyle and Bruce Wayne have their (very public) wedding. Before that, though, Selina visits some of Bruce’s kids.

*No underage, nothing explicit, nothing even in the frame, so to speak, but if it squicks you out - skip this one because it’s the whole reason I’m writing this fic

Alfred

They had to tell Alfred even if just to get seating arrangements changed, and another invitation issued, and also there was a need to inform caterers… So they told Alfred.

From his face, and a wrapped cut on his hand, it was obvious Alfred saw the news already, so it didn’t come as a surprise.

Alfred still asked Bruce, though.

“My boy, are you sure it’s the right course of action?”.

Bruce nodded, tersely, and it all was as though a life or death situation, not a guest list.

Selina couldn’t hold a laugh.

“Come on, Alfred!” She said. “You raised the boy. Are you saying you’re not confident in your manner-instilling skills?”

“I love Jason as if he is my own,” Alfred said, not looking from Bruce. “But he was here with me only for a short while, and I wasn’t a best guardian for him, as things turned out. Besides, he had other influences in life, less healthy.”

“He will be fine.” Bruce said, frowning and meeting Alfred’s gaze. “Jason will, undoubtedly, make everything as difficult as possible, for everyone, including himself. But he knows where the line is. I doubt even at his most bitter he would want to cross it.”

“While I am quite confident in you and your opinions usually,” Alfred said, “It is a rather special case with Jason. You could never quite predict him, could you?”

“No,” Bruce said, and there was a hint of a smile, damn it. Selina was sure of it. “I could not.”

Alfred sighed.“I better give him the invitation personally, next time I see him. Perhaps, it would sooth some feathers, at least.”

“And when would it be?” Bruce frowned again. “Your Sunday dinners - are you doing it again?”

“Indeed, we are. Master Jason is in Gotham again, after all.”

Alfred looked at Bruce like he dared him to comment on it. Bruce didn’t.

Selina decided not to approach Alfred about Jason either.

Not when Bruce could hear it, at least.

So she approached him early next morning, while Bruce was still sleeping off the patrol. Why he still bothered with them, Selina didn’t quite get; Gotham didn’t get calmer than that. All the villains - except, maybe, Joker - seemed to lie low. Nobody saw or heard from Black Mask in a while. Mr Freeze was in a total compliance of his parole terms. Ivy and Harley did they own thing, outside of city limits. They probably wouldn’t show up even at the wedding, which, Selina was slightly discomfited about. Even if making them tone down their… everythingness, to fly under radar of civilians, would be cruel, so it was for the best, all things considered. Penguin sold his business and ran away to Europe, probably, or perhaps Canada, nobody was too sure. Maybe Hood would know but it’s not like Selina would ask.

Gotham, Batgirl and Spoiler handled things on street-level. Bizarro’s organized crime prevention algorithms, Selina heard from grapevine, did horrible, horrible things for business. A robot-suited vigilante whose identity Bruce didn’t know about, named Wingman, helped to put Bizarro’s schemes into action, if GCPD dropped the ball.

So there wasn’t much for Bruce to do. Yet there he was, and at home, at nights, he wasn’t.

He didn’t trust the quiet, Selina mused. Perhaps he was right to do so. He had more experience in that hero business than her, he would know.

Most importantly, it gave Selina an opportunity. So she used it.

Damian wasn’t there, Selina usually had the same sleeping habits as Bruce, yet she had a feeling she would find Alfred in the kitchen, and she wasn’t wrong.

“Smells delicious,” she said moderately-cheerful.It smelled, if she was frank, stomach-turning.

Lately, her nose was more sensitive, probably because she didn’t hang out with chain smokers anymore. Selina almost tasted the burnt sugar in the air.

“You are too kind, Miss Kyle,” Alfred said dryly, throwing out the contents of the pan in the garbage bin. He almost murmured to himself, adding something or other to the batter in a bowl. “Making waffles, I do not know what I was thinking, honestly. I never got it right, not to his standards. Perhaps, today I will have to show up empty-handed.”

“Show up where? Your Sunday dinners with Jason?”

Alfred looked back at her, then, more alert than he was previously, as only now he shed the heavy feeling of failure he wasn’t used to feel, and thus reveled in every time he did.

“Brunch,” he said after a slight pause, like he weighted if he could trust her with this tidbit of information. Selina didn’t know if she was supposed to be hurt about it. “This time. Today… our plans slightly changed, and we can’t meet at a diner, as was our habit before. So I thought perhaps whipping up his favorite brunch food would be nice.”

“So you’re coming over to him, right?” No way Jason Todd was invited to Manor, after all. “Don’t want to give him the invite in public?”

Selina didn’t understand, really, what the big deal about it was. Yet, she allowed that she wasn’t around for the worse of Red Hood’s post-resurrection rampage. Maybe all the tip-toeing and the drama was deserved.

Probably not.

“It was actually Master Jason’s idea and invitation,” Alfred said, turning away again and making himself busy with a teapot.

Selina shrugged mentally and made herself a coffee.

Fuck, where did they buy these beans? The coffee tasted like acid.Her stomach growled. She tried to drown out the noise by asking Alfred another question. Also, she was curious, which - for cats, curiosity was something life-bringing, if you remember the second part of the famous proverb.

“Any special occasion?”

Alfred hesitated to answer again.

“Yes, actually.” He looked at the cup of tea he was holding between his hands as though it had all the answers.

Selina was slightly jealous. Her cup contained nothing more than vile poison. Maybe a smudge of milk would rescue it? She tried it out. It didn’t.

“I do not know for sure,” Alfred continued, when Selina ceased to expect it.

It was as though - no, it was exactly that Alfred didn’t have anyone else to talk about it with. People who knew Jason Todd and Alfred both were few and far between. Those who would be willing to talk about him, to Alfred, Selina had a feeling, were even fewer. None, maybe, except her.

She didn’t know Jason Todd though, not exactly. When he was Robin, Bruce kept them separate. It made sense. At the time their relationships has gotten worse. At best, what they had was very charged hate-sex. Sometimes it felt like Bruce was trying to prove something to himself. Selina, at the time trying to prove to herself she didn’t like or needed him all that much, didn’t really try to figure it out all that hard.

“But I think he wants to acquaint me with someone.”

“His teammates?”

“No, I met Miss Grace and Mister Bizarro already, and, of course, I knew Miss Anders and Mister Harper from the time they were first friends with Master Dick. No, I think, perhaps it’s a girl,” Alfred said, and added quietly. “Or, a boy. A man. A person.”

“Oh?” Selina smiled. “That’s cute. Did he do that before? Invited people home so you could meet them and give them a seal of approval?”

“No.”

Alfred drunk some tea, carefully.

“No, he did not. There was no one to… take home, or for me to - to meet.”

“Seriously?”

Alright, so Selina just said to herself that she didn’t really knew Jason when he was a kid. But what she did glimpse of him - he seemed to have such boisterous personality. Maybe he was brash, or even rude. But so full of life. And, before he died, he was, how old again?

“He lived with you guys for three years, right? Until he was sixteen?”

Alfred didn’t reply, even something like “he had other concerns - being vigilante”, maybe because that never seemed to stop Dick. Or, “he preferred to focus on his studies”, which didn’t put a wrench on Tim’s social life, as far as Selina remembered what little she knew about it (though Tim didn’t finish high school, so). Or, “there weren’t that much people he had shared or similar life experience with” - perhaps Damian’s chances of that were even less and yet he had good, even great friends. He must have - otherwise where was he spending all his days and sometimes nights, weekends? Not even “his upbringing left him emotionally stunted and incapable of forming meaning relationships with his peers”, which would fit Cassandra to a point - the point where she overcame it far quicker than Selina herself had. And her father wasn’t even 40% of messed up David Cain was.

“It sounds great,” Selina offered. “It’s great you and him still have such great relationships.”

“Hmm. I am afraid - we don’t, not really. He treats me with fondness. As though I am a relic from simpler times, even if when he actually lived here it was everything but simple. We did not get along at first, and I am ashamed to confess my own distrust of the situation, whether or not it was deserved, was as much at fault as his limited ability to trust adults.”

He chuckled, staring at the wall. His eyes were slightly shimming.

“Did you know he was quite stubborn of allowing me to call him Master Jason? He would rant or call me “Mister Pennyworth” to rile me up right back. I don’t think he ever understood why I choose to address the family so. He still, I’m quite certain, doesn’t. He allowed it and continues to allow it because it gives him a certain level of detachment. I am a well-meaning, somewhat-competent butler, an old and lonely man, to be indulged. Never family.”

“That’s awful,” Selina said, unexpectedly for herself.

But she felt for Alfred right now, she really did.

“Never family,” Alfred repeated, and he returned back to Selina, meeting her eyes. “So I am, in his eyes, safe. You wouldn’t know but - Master Jason found his father, again. His biological one, presumed dead for even before Jason came to live with us. He consciously decided he was not going to - to build relationships with him. He refuses even to acknowledge a link between them. So, I wouldn’t call it awful. It is what it is. Perhaps, what I even deserve. After all, when it was required, I failed to protect him.”

“Alfred, stop. Even Bruce couldn’t - you wouldn’t want Bruce to blame himself for Jason’s death, would you?”

“It is not what I meant.”

Selina felt a creeping feeling of nausea. This fucking coffee.

“Excuse me for a moment,” she said, not quite running to the nearest bathroom.

When she returned to the kitchen, it was already empty. Seemed like Alfred had enough sharing for the day. Or, as she suspected, for the next century.

Perhaps, others would be more inclined to do so.

#fic #BatCat #BruJay #Jaysabel #gen #Jason Todd #Bruce Wayne #Selina Kyle #Alfred Pennyworth #Ric Grayson #Tim Drake #Cassandra Cain #Damian Wayne #Isabel Ardilla #Fruit of Discord

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bat-losers-inc · 6 years

Text

Collisions in the Dark (Ch 2): En Prise

Warnings: dubcon, depictions of violence

Summary: The scene is set and promises have been made in hushed tones. If everyone plays their parts right they might all just make it out of this alive.

Pairings: Jason Todd/Tim Drake, Ra’s Al Ghul/Tim Drake

Chapter Notes: En Prise: French "in take" A piece or pawn that is unprotected and exposed to capture

Do you know how it ends? Do you feel lucky? Do you want to go home now? There’s a bottle of whiskey in the trunk of the Chevy and a dead man at our feet staring up at us like we’re something interesting. This is where the evening splits in half, Henry, love or death. Grab an end, pull hard, and make a wish.” — “ Wishbone ”, Richard Siken.

8 Hours Ago…

“I’m sorry you wanna repeat that?” Jason blinked, his face scrunched in annoyance like he thought someone was messing with him and he wasn’t in on the joke. Tim couldn’t blame him for that, he wished he was joking. Honestly, he was surprised Jason hadn’t shut the door in his face already.

He exhaled and tried again in as serious a tone as he could with Jason glowering at him.

“I need you to kill someone for me and help me stage the murder to look like I did it.”

Jason straightened up from where he was leaning against the door jam, with his arms crossed, and slid his foot away from the door. “Yeah, that’s what I thought you said. I’m calling Alfred to bring you home. Get some sleep, Replacement, come back when you’re thinking clearly.”

He moved into his apartment, swinging the door shut as he went. Tim lunged forward and caught his arm against the door before it closed. “No, Jason. Wait!”

He pushed inside to find Jason standing at the kitchen island, scrolling through the contacts on his phone. Jason’s eyes flickered up to him before returning to his screen.

“I don’t need to deal with any of your crazy, Replacement. I’ve got enough crazy of my own to spare. Honestly, shouldn’t Bruce be dealing with this?”

“Bruce already knows about this, that’s why I’m here. I need your help if our plan is going to work.” Tim replied.

Jason stopped what he was doing to look at Tim full on now. “I’m sorry… Bruce… Batman , has decided on a plan that entails you murdering someone?”

“Technically you’d be doing the murdering— which is nothing new,” commented Tim, “but yes, because we’re attempting to trick the smartest villain of all time and he won’t believe anything less.”

Tim watched Jason’s forehead crinkle and imagined the gears turning inside his head. He seemed to come to his conclusion and swallowed thickly, like the answer didn’t agree with him.

“Ra’s… You’re planning on tricking Ra’s?”

Tim nodded. “I need to get inside his compound, work undercover there to find the answers I need, and I’m going to need your help to do it. You don’t have to say yes, but you should know if you help me with this, you’re in it with me for the long run.”

Jason stared hard at his hands, thinking it over for a long minute. When he refocused his gaze, he gave a half-shrug. “I didn’t have anything exciting planned for this week anyway. So, who do I have to kill?”

“Know of any scumbag that have it coming to them?” asked Tim.

Jason grinned in that devilish way that was usually only reserved for nights he patrolled in his domino mask as Red Hood. “Let me get my naughty list.”

The gunshot rang out in the alley later that night, drowning out the sound of pouring rain beating against asphalt for a split second. Tim forced himself to watch as the bullet tore into the criminal’s head, splattering brain matter onto the brick wall behind him. He was still staring when the man’s body fell from his kneeling position onto the ground and Jason pressed his still warm gun into Tim’s slack hand.

“Put it in the holster I gave you.” Jason instructed.

Tim repeated to himself the man’s past crimes— everything from drugs, to arms dealing, to human trafficking— hoping it would incite his rage and disgust again. This was supposed to be a crime of passion and Tim would need to make himself a lot bloodier if the scene was to look believable to any spying eyes.

“Tim,” Jason snapped, drawing him out of his thoughts. “Put the gun away and help me shift the body.”

Tim slid the gun into the holster on his thigh and moved to help Jason who was crouched by the man’s shoulders. Tim stationed himself by the man’s feet. Up close he could see were part of the man’s skull was missing, blood clotting into his hair. The sight made Tim want to run away and be sick.

Jason slid his hands under the man’s shoulders. “Grab his feet, we need to turn him onto his back.”

With shaky hands, Tim grasped the feet of the dead body in front of him. They lifted the dead weight and turned, dropped the body back to the pavement with a unsettling flopping sound.

Jason stood and looked back down towards the mouth of the alley, checking to see if the coast was clear. “You’re turn, Replacement. Kneel over the body and aim for the face, the nose especially. It’ll get the most blood.”

Tim kneeled in the growing spread of blood that was creeping outwards in a halo around the dead body. He clenched his hands into fists, his heart hammering in his chest at the prospect of beating up a dead corpse. This wasn’t right, none of this was right, he wanted to say, but knew it had to be done. Sacrifice one man who Jason was planning on killing anyway to save who knows how many lives. He struck out as hard as he could, bruising the man’s cheek and opening up a cut. He put all of his anger and fear into his blows, continuing even when the man’s nose broke and sprayed blood across Tim’s face, continued until the man’s face was an unrecognizable mess and Jason’s strong hands were grasping his own to still him.

“Easy, that’s enough. That’s enough.” Jason’s words were gentle as he pulled Tim to his feet, like he was trying to calm a child. He pulled Tim until he could lean breathlessly again the brick wall.

Tim tried not to stare at his bloody hands as Jason put two fingers to his lips and whistled something that sounded like a bird call. Nothing happened at first, then out of the murky darkness, a boy appeared. He was thin and dirty with worn sneakers, and stared openly at the bloody corpse for a minute before turning to Jason. Tim realized he must be one of Jason’s information runner. Jason pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket and handed it to the boy.

“Spread the word that Red Robin killed a human trafficker in Crime Alley. Make it as graphic as possible. I want everyone to hear about this, you understand me?”

The boy nodded and dashed out into the darkness.

Jason turned back to Tim. “I’ll call it in to Bruce and see you back at my place tonight.”

Wearily, Tim nodded. And just like that Jason was climbing up a fire escape and disappearing into the night. Tim slid down the wall until he was sitting on the ground, his arms resting on top of his drawn up knees. He stared out at the mouth of the alley and waited for Batman to arrive.

36 Hours Ago...

Tim came into the cave to find Bruce and Dick standing side by side at the bat computer. Tim looked at the screen to see the newest report from the Justice League along with a video feed that Bruce had playing on repeat.

“When did you say this happened again?” Asked Dick, his hand stroking his brow thoughtfully.

“The video feed is timestamped for last night. The laboratory cameras seem to have been tampered with— see there they go black for awhile— but when they come back on the disease samples are missing. Clark reports that the same thing happened in different labs across the country, perhaps even on different continents, but we have yet to be notified.”

“What’s going on?” Tim asked, approaching the screen for a closer look at the video feed.

“Someone’s stealing anthrax samples from the CDC laboratories across the country.” Dick replied, flashing Tim a welcoming grin that conflicted with the dire topic of conversation.

“How many samples have been taken so far? I mean, on what kind of scale are we talking in terms of crisis. Is this more of an evacuate the building or evacuate the city type of scenario?”

“Based on my calculations right now, it’s enough to build a small bomb, but the reports keep coming in. If this keeps up, it could be enough to infect a city the size of Shanghai.”

“So we’re most likely looking at bioterrorists.”Dick confirmed and moved to the side of the computer to search through their database. The action seemed pointless to Tim. He already knew who it was.

He also knew about that person’s annoying habit of planting bugs in the cave. He put his finger to his lips with a knowing look towards the computer console and motioned Bruce and Dick away into the med bay. Hopefully their voices wouldn’t be picked up by any mics in here.

“If it’s a bioterrorist, there’s only one who would do it on this big a scale.” Stated Tim, crossing his arms. “Ra’s.”

“It is his M.O.” Bruce agreed, though he looked less than eager to go up against Ra’s al Ghul and his league of assassins again.

“If it is him, there won’t likely be any threat made to the Justice League or the media. His endgame is always the decreasement of the world population until only the strong are left to build the world anew. Any notification of a threat would cause mass migration out of cities around the world which would be counter effective. If there is a biological weapon threat from Ra’s, we won’t know about it until it happens.”

There was a moment of intense silence as the trio of superheroes tried to think of a solution.

“Alright, “ Dick started. “But Ra’s is a pretty arrogant guy… I mean if Damien is anything to go by. Maybe we can draw it out of him. Trash talk him on the media until he makes a threat. There’s a chance he’ll slip up… “

Bruce shook his head. “That won’t work. Ra’s is too smart for that. The most that will get you is a bunch of his assassins waiting for you when you get home to put a sword through your back.”

Tim had an idea, a horrible idea that was just guaranteed to work if they played it right.

“If we could get someone inside his compound and close enough to him, then we’d stand a chance of learning the location of the bomb.”

“Damian?” Dick asked automatically, concern spreading over his features. “I don’t think he’d be willing to go back there now.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Bruce. “Ra’s won’t buy it anyway. Damian has outright told Ra’s whose side he’s on in the past. He’s done nothing to make Ra’s think otherwise—”

Tim shook his head.

“I’m not talking about Damian. Me, send me. The man trusted me enough to let the White Ghost take me to one of his compounds and remove my spleen. Why wouldn’t he trust me again?”

Dick held up a hand with a mocking smile. “Well that was before you single-handedly demolished his entire organization. That kind of thing can make someone vengeful.”

“Uh, I think he got his revenge. He tried to kill everyone I know and when that didn’t work, proceeded to kick me out a window . I’d say we’re square.”

Dick blinked, and stared hard at the ceiling for a minute like he was doing the math in his head. “God, in what kind of screwed up world does that actually makes sense? Our lives are so weird.”

If Tim was being honest with himself that wasn’t the real reason he got kicked out that window. It was the blatant rejection that had stung Ra’s the most, the realization that nothing he felt towards Tim would ever be reciprocated in kind.

“Once again, Ra’s isn’t going to buy it.” Interrupted Bruce, forever the voice of pessimism. “What motive would you have to change sides?”

“Easy,” responded Tim. “Make it my only option. I break the most sacred rule you have and you’ll have no choice but to disown me.”

The silence was heavy for a minute as Bruce thought it over. He nodded his approval, if begrudgingly.

Present Time…

“God, I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life, but this is like asking to be chopped to pieces. How do we even know he’ll keep me alive?” Jason sat next to Tim on the worn leather couch in his apartment. His hands were steepled under his chin, resting on his bouncing knees.

“We don’t.” Tim cringed outwardly at the realization of his own words. Suddenly this didn’t seem like the best plan… though it never sounded like a walk in the park to begin with.

“Well at least I’ll go out in style.” He arched his eyebrows towards his hairline like he was considering the idea. “ Death by ninja home invasion. That’s not so bad.”

Tim snorted.

“It sounds like the action scene of a low budget movie they’d play on the SyFy channel.”

“Oh shut up, Babybird.” Jason sighed. The silence settled heavily between them for another moment. The only sounds were the nightlife of Gotham through Jason’s thin walls. Someone on the floor above them seemed to be getting lucky, if the continuous thumping and moaning was anything to go by, but the noises didn’t hold Tim’s attention long enough to take his mind off their present situation.

Finally, Jason seemed to gather the courage to broach the topic he’d been dancing around for the past twenty minutes. “You know in order for this to work you’re going to have get close to Ra’s and gain his trust, right?”

“That was the plan wasn’t it? I resist at first and then decide to join him. It’s more believable that way.” They were dancing right on the edge of the true topic and God it would be Jason who was giving him this talk.

“Ra’s has always been weird when it came to you. It’s more than an interest… it’s an obsession of sorts. I just want you to understand...without Bruce to stop him, he’s not going to restrain himself—”

Tim pressed his fingers into his eyes, nausea creeping up the back of his throat at the thought of it. When he spoke, his tone was sharper than he’d meant it to be. “I know, Jason. I know his feelings for me and I’m consenting to it now before you get it into your head that you have to defend my honor or something like that.”

“I’m just saying that this wouldn’t be the first time Bruce has sacrificed someone else to get what he wants. If you’re uncomfortable with this, we can figure something else out. It doesn’t have to go down this path.”

Jason’s warm, rough hand covered his own where is rested on the couch. Tim looked over at Jason, suddenly so glad that he was going to be at his side throughout this whole mess. Well… if everything went to plan.

Tim gave his hand the faintest of squeezes. “I can do this. I can.”

Jason smiled, though the worry on his face didn’t vanish completely. He squeezed back— right before the power cut off. The two of them sat completely still in the dark knowing exactly what was going to happen now. Tim let a shuddering breath escape through his lips.

The windows blasted inwards, spraying glass across the floor and furniture. Jason’s hand was no longer on top on his own but pressing his head down towards his knees to dodge the worst of the shrapnel. Tim turned his head against Jason’s grip, eyes searching through the dark. In the faint light that seeped into the apartment, Tim could see the outlines of figures clad in black dropping onto the floor. Jason was torn away from him in the struggle that ensued after that, though Tim did not remember much of it. He punched instinctively towards where he thought an assassin’s head was and before he knew what was happening a needle was slipped into his arm and he was falling to the ground in a heap of numb limbs. Before he passed into unconsciousness, he caught a glimpse of Jason illuminated in the moonlight flooding in through a broken window, caught in a fight with two assassins. Tim could only hope that Jason would still be alive when he woke up again.

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g-on-ef · 7 years

Text

Why the bad things Happen to the good people

Fandom: Super Sons, DC Batman, DC Superman

Parings: Damijon, Birdflash, TimKon, JayRoy, BatCat, Clark/Lois, BluePulse

Characters: Damian Wayne, Jon Kent, Wally West, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Connor Kent, Jason Todd, Roy Harper, Bruce Wayne, Seline Kyle, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Jaime Reyes, Bart West

{Inspired by Empire's song Good People. The words in italic are part of the song.

A/N: So this is a two part story that I wrote because I was bored and wanted to try something new, now fair warnings this story is rated E for graphic displays of violence, murdering, character death, and sexual content {that will be show in flashbacks in the next chapter}, I should also mention that this story will have mpreg just because I want it ^^ anywhore enjoy this story and let me know if I should update the second part tomorrow. Also to those who sent me prompts I plan on posting them tomorrow so be on the look out for that. Okay now on with the show ^^

Summary: Instead of Clark killing Lois and their baby he accidently kills Damian, as well as his unborn Granddaughter. Heartbroken and full of range Jon decides that the world no longer needs the Justice League instead it needs new heroes’ ones who aren't afraid to cross the line. Jason was right you can't defeat crime you can only control it. He and a new team take over and show the so call heroes how easy it is for the good guys to win when they are no longer playing by the rules

Sometimes it's hard to pray, sometimes it's hard to keep your faith when it's always being tested, you try to stay strong, you continue believing that everything you've done was worth your sacrifice and continue living in a fantasy world, but reality keeps crashing in, finding ways to destroy the illusions that your heart has created to fool your mind making you see the world for what it really is, and then you realize, you are no longer a kid living in a fantasy dream, that the real world is full of dangers, and death is always taking something from you even when you work on the side of good and do good deeds the world still finds a way to punish you.

Sometimes it's hard to stay grateful, you wanted to be a hero, but no ever told you the price you had to pay was the death of a love one. No one warned you of the consequences, the sacrifices you had to make. The people you would lose.

It's painful, hurts so bad you put on a mask of ferocity to show the world show them that despite what it threw at you, you are still the man of steel, the strongest warrior to ever exist, after all you not only killed your grandfather who claimed to be the strongest man alive but you brought fear into the ones who once protected the Earth and were once known as Gods. The ones responsible for the death of your family, your soul's mate. Because you never want them to see you break, never want them to see that despite being the strongest man alive you're still a broken boy.

Crying for help. Begging the heavens to return what was once yours.

Sometimes it's hard to breathe You rule the world with an iron fist, despite the fact that you feel like you are drowning in your thoughts, you feel like the darkness is trying to claw it's way up to drag you to the abyss and keep you as it's prisoner. You are tired of living with Demons because they are always inviting more and with Demons come the ghosts, the ones that have chained you to the past and refuse to set you free. Sometimes you don't want to be free because the demons, the ghosts, they may haunt your future but they still bring you memories of the past and you are okay with that.

It's hard to keep goin' He remembers, he'll always remember, the day that ruined his life but also changed it.

Jon remembers the message from his father, remembers the dreaded look that clouded his father's eyes as he told him that his father-his birth father-his was still alive.

He remembers how terrified he looked to not only know his biological father is alive but that he is an evil man who wants to destroy the earth.

He remembers it all.

After the meeting with both the Justice League and the Teen Titans Jon decided now was a good time to head back home, despite his father, Batman, and Wonder Woman wanting to speak to him, the young hybrid wanted to leave the Watchtower and go home.

Entering the coordinates to his safe house Jon was teleported back home before either of the big three could talk to him.

When he arrived the first thing he did was headed for his room, once inside he saw his beautiful husband sleeping in their bed.

Damian Wayne-Kent was everything Jon wanted and more. When they were younger the two hated each other hell Jon was certain that they would kill each other, if it weren't for their parents they probably would.

As the years passed on the two's mutual hate slowly turned to mutual respect to trusting one another, to a strong friendship to them falling in love and getting married and starting a family together.

The marriage was a secret, just like their relationship kept from everyone except their brothers. They were the only ones who knew about their relationship and marriage.

"You're being creepy,"

Jon was startled to hear the velvet sound of his husband, he watched as his angel got up from bed; he then grabbed a shirt that was on the floor and put it on.

If Jon had to guess it was his especially since it was a little longer than his body. Damian walked over to his beloved before he wrapped his arms around his neck. Jon responded by wrapping his own arms around Damian's waist and pulled him closer to his body. Enjoying this peaceful moment that they rarely had.

Both Jon and Damian jumped a little when they felt a little kick between them.

They pulled back a little making Jon laugh as he placed his hand on Damian's stomach.

"Looks like she's an active one, isn't she?"

Damian rolled his eyes fondly as he placed his own hands on top of Jon's.

"She's been keeping me up all night, not to mention she's always craving chicken!"

Jon had to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing.

"She wants chicken?"

"Yes, and cheeseburgers, beef, tacos, and meat! She wants meat Kent! I'm just glad that she doesn't want pork,"

Jon chuckled a little, he knew his husband was 100% vegetarian and refused to eat pork since he was Arabic. Still he decided to less Damian's burden a little.

He bend down and kissed his belly before whispering,

"Hello Amiera, it's daddy. I hope you had a good day with Baba, now I know baba has weird eating habits," this earned him a smack from his husband making Jon laugh.

"But you need to try to be a little easy on him okay? He maybe a strong and powerful person but he's not use to carrying a half kryptonian baby so please be gentle with him,"

The kicking stopped making Jon look up to his angel who just laughed as he bend down and kissed Jon's forehead.

"You are such a sap,"

He then placed a hand on top of Jon’s who smiled softly at their joined hands.

"And you are gonna be a daddy's little girl,"

Jon laughed as he brought Damian’s hand to his lips and gave it a gentle kiss before his oceanic eyes met Damian’s emerald jewels.

"I love you, forever and always,"

"And way pass eternity,"

The two kissed one another enjoying their moment of peace before it all came crashing down.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Kill him, he's your enemy," Clark heard the whisper and he had to agree this man, this creature was going to kill Jon, Lois, everyone he cared about. He would not let that happen.

He heard a voice, telling him to stop, begging him not to, but he ignore it he kept attacking the enemy trying to defeat it. It wasn't until someone punched him hard in the jaw that he finally came to reality.

Clark shook his head to clear the fog that had cloud it, slowly the fog was lifting as he crashed down to reality looking up he saw in horror as his son cradled the battered body of his best friend's son.

He looked around him to see Bruce, Dick, Jason, Kon and Tim as well as the entire Justice League with the Teen Titans staring in horror as the youngest robin was clinging to life. His son, slowly cupping his cheek and whipping off the blood that was covering his face.

"Damian, oh my, you're gonna be fine okay, you’re gonna be fine," Jon said trying hard not to show weakness but finding it hard to do as he held onto his husband's body, as he moved his hands from his cheek to the top of his tummy, his heart broke when he felt a flat stomach. He felt his heart breaking as he could feel his husband’s bloody hand covering his own.

"Jo-Jon..."

"Yes?"

Damian tried to reach for his face with his free hand but it was taking all his strength to reach for him Jon grabbed his hand and placed it on his face he turned his face and kissed it, ignoring the blood that was on it. Trying his best to comfort his beloved.

"Our...our baby...I can't, can't feel our baby, where is my baby? Where is our baby," his voice cracked at the end, despite his heart rate slowing down Jon could hear it speeding up a little a sign of pure panic that Damian was feeling, Jon closed his eyes as tears fell from his eyes, becoming a part of Damian's own tears and mixing in with his blood.

"I'm sorry Dami, I'm so sorry, I couldn't protect you or our baby,"

Damian’s emerald green eyes met his blue ones a heartbreaking sob escaped his lips, he could feel himself slowly slipping away, this wasn’t supposed to happen, he wasn’t supposed to die again. He was supposed to live with Jon and their baby, he didn’t want to die, not now not like this. He didn’t want to leave Jon, he needed to stay, to at least have the chance to tell him how much he loved him and how he shouldn’t blame his father for what’s happened. Jon needed to know, needed to understand that he didn’t blame Clark, that he only hopped that Jon didn’t either.

"Jon I, I" whatever Damian was going to say will never be known to Jon because in that moment, that horrible heart breaking moment Damian Wayne-Kent was gone.

“Dami? Dami, please open your eyes please Damian don’t leave me!” the boy of steel shouted as he shook Damian’s corpse.

Jon listen carefully to Damian’s heartbeat, praying to every God out there that his angel was alive, that this was some cruel joke that the League was playing on him and Damian would open his eyes again and Jon will have the chance to see those jade eyes once again.

“Damian please, open your eyes please don’t leave me. I’ll do it, I’ll give up being Super-boy, I’ll, I’ll stop fighting crime and putting my life in danger anything you want but please, I’m begging you DON’T LEAVE ME!” Jon begged to Damian’s corpse.

It never happened, Damian’s eyes did not open, the League did nothing but watch as Jonathan Kent, son of Superman, boy of steel broke down and cried at the lost of not only his beloved Damian, but their daughter as well.

“Bruce…what…what did I do?” Clark stared as his little boy held onto the corpse of his best friend crying his poor heart out.

“The Joker, he…he drugged you, tried to get you to kill Lois and your daughter but…but Damian…he…he,”

The fog that clouded his mind was slowly disappearing clearing his head of any confusion that he was currently feeling, memories of past events creeped their way as pieces of the missing puzzle were slowly putting themselves together creating the image of Clark being poison and attacking Damian as he tried to defend Lois and Martha.

He saw how he fought Damian, attacking him; he remembers Damian’s pleas to stop to not attack his belly, which he didn’t understand why but when he said it Clark attacked it, showing his stomach no mercy.

Clark felt sick to his stomach as he watched his son and their friends trying to stop him but he was able to stop them, he sees his son trying to get to Damian but Clark stops him by freezing him, he sees it all, his body attacking everything and anything that was protecting Damian it wasn’t until his boy punched him with brass knuckles that contain Kryptonite that he finally stopped attacking Damian. But it was too late, Damian Wayne was already clinging to life trying hard not to fall into Death’s embrace, for the second time in his life.

“Oh my God Bruce, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…I…I,”

Bruce didn’t know what to say, he wanted to be mad, he wanted to yell and hurt Clark in any way but he didn’t, he couldn’t. Damian died protecting Lois and Martha, he gave his life protecting Jon’s mother and little sister, Damian was willing to do anything to protect them. Even at the cost of his own life.

Yes it broke his heart and crushed his spirit to lose his son but he had to remember that Damian was a hero, willing to sacrifice anything and everything for those he cared about.

“It’s okay Clark Damian gave his life to protect your family, I know that Damian wouldn’t want you to blame yourself, that he-“

“Don’t,” Jon growled as he continued to hold onto the body of his dead husband his hand resting on top of his once round belly, where his little princess once rested in.

“What?” Bruce asked looking at the son of Superman.

“Don’t you dare speak his name!” Jon yelled as he glared at not only Batman and Superman but the entire Justice League as well.

How could Bruce be so calm about this? Clark killed Damian and instead of being pissed he was calm? Did he not care for Damian? Did he not care that his own flesh and blood was dead?

Jon mentally slapped himself, of course Bruce didn’t care, if he did he would feel the same anger that he was feeling, but who was he fooling? Bruce was never a father to Damian, Dick was Damian’s father, Dick was the one who was there for Damian when he needed him. Glaring at Bruce the boy of steel said,

“You never cared about him! He was nothing but a nocuous to you! You have no right to say what Damian would want or wouldn’t want! You never even gave a damn about him so SHUT THE FUCK UP! And keep Damian’s name out of your mouth.

“Jon don’t-“

“And you,”

Jon glared at the man he once worshipped, the one he idolized and wished he grew up to be like him; a hero, a father, a loving husband. Now Jon wanted nothing more than to end his life.

“You killed him, you killed my HUSBAND AND MY DAUGHTER!”

“I did what?” Clark asked praying to God that his misunderstood his son, that what Jon said was a case of a misunderstanding and he was just hearing things, that he was not only responsible for the death of Damian who was Jon’s husband-which he had no knowledge of-but the death of his grandchild.

“You killed my family, you…you…MURDER!”

In a split-second Jon was on top of his so call father and punching him as hard as he could. Clark could easily push him off hell he could have easily stop his son’s attack but didn’t because it wasn’t Jon hitting him that was breaking his heart and stopping him from defending himself but the words that he threw at him that were cutting deeper than any knife could and hurting him more than any physical attack ever could.

“Murder! You killed the love of my life! My husband! MY DAUGHTER! You took away my family! Robbed them of their lives! Rot in hell you piece of shit! I hate you. I. Hate. You!”

The boy of steel continue to attack his father showing him no mercy, he wanted him to hurt, to feel the pain and suffering that Jon was currently feeling.

Damian…his beloved was gone, and so was their baby; the only reminder he had left of Damian, both gone

Jon was pulled off his murderous father by Kon and Jason, despite being strong enough to break from their hold on him he chose not to, instead he glared at his father, Clark had never seen such hatred from anyone. None of his enemies have ever gave him such a dark and murderous look at least not the one that made him fear for his life.

Jon shrugged off Kon’s and Jason’s hold as he went over to Damian’s body, he picked his husband’s body as he turned to face not only his father but his mother and little sister.

“Your dead to me Super-Man,” Jon took to the sky ignoring the cries of Batman telling him to bring back Damian.

#damijon #damian wayne #jonathan kent #jon kent #bruce wayne #clark kent #dc superman #dc batman #super sons #injustice au #mpreg #character death #writing #my writing #my fic

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