Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Only half paying attention to what he was seeing, Tim stared out the window from his place at the kitchen island, cradling a mug of hot chocolate in his palms. Not unusually, the sky was too thick with smog to see through to the stars beyond.

He drew up an image behind his eyes, of being high up in the middle of the city and contemplating both the sky and the road below him. Of Jason’s movements being careful, measured, and his words held back from their full weight.

It all seemed so long ago, now. And yet, here he was, once again rendered unable to sleep by nightmares that had shifted from a vibrant green to a pitch black and static fuzz. At the very least, this time he was in his home, and far less of a danger to himself.

“Hey.”

Naturally, Tim didn’t hear Cass approach. He did, however, turn when she spoke, following her as she stepped across the room towards the sink. She carefully picked up a glass from the draining board span it in her hand before holding it under the tap and filling it with water.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Tim asked in return, bringing his mug to his lips to thankfully find the drink didn’t burn his tongue.

“Nightmares,” Cass said simply as she turned around, leaning against the counter. “You?”

“The same.”

Tim maintained that it must be the case that everyone in this house had nightmares more frequent than most. He also maintained that they might be less frequent for some if they actually spoke about them. But he wasn’t going to mention that, because it made him a hypocrite.

“Tomorrow?”

“Today, actually, since it’s the very early morning right now.”

Cass gave him a pointed look.

Tomorrow - or rather, today - was Damian’s birthday party. A couple of weeks before his actual thirteenth birthday, since there were ‘work’ commitments for a few people after that point, it would be the first time Damian saw his mother face to face since the… incident.

Well, really, it was more of a string of incidents. Obviously there was the conversation that accompanied everyone finding out about what happened with Ra’s. Jason skipped out on said conversation on account of being in North Carolina, murdering Ra’s al Ghul with surprising ease.

He came back about a week later, muttering about how the man had definitely let him do it so it wasn’t as satisfying, to a semi-comforting squeeze of the shoulder from Bruce. A surprise to everyone, really, especially since Bruce definitely didn’t condone murder. He mostly just avoided the subject whenever anyone had mentioned it since.

After that, Talia had (according to a letter to Bruce) rather a lot of fallout to deal with. As in, more than usual following an uncivil encounter with the al Ghul family. After ignoring a lot of her correspondence, Bruce agreed to a private meeting that the entire family collectively agreed they were going to listen in on anyway (aside from Damian, who Dick was tasked with keeping away).

Surprise, surprise, Talia was completely aware of what happened. After the fact, at least. She had kept reiterating that she didn’t condone it in the slightest, and she hadn’t found out what he was going to do until it was too late, but everyone made sure to take that with a hefty pinch of salt. She also, in hushed tones, asked Bruce to pass on an apology to her son from her.

Damian had refused to respond to any of the woman’s future attempts at contact anyway. But that was his decision to make, and nobody was going to try to convince him one way or another.

Cass clearly thought Tim had some kind of preoccupation about all this. She wasn’t exactly wrong.

He sighed, in the end. “Okay, yes, maybe I am a bit anxious that my being assaulted is going to make Damian’s birthday celebration a little awkward. Can you really blame me?”

Cass shook her head, placing her glass down on the countertop behind her and raising her hands to sign. ‘Not blaming. Everyone worried about it.’

“Yeah. That makes sense.”

‘Most people trying to avoid her.’ She smiled. ‘You should do that too.’

“Like that’s going to work. If she wants to speak to me, she’ll find a way. That woman is terrifying.”

‘Civil.’

“Anyone can be civil. Ra’s could be civil if he wanted to. She just wants her son to respond to her letters.”

‘Wouldn’t you?’

Tim said nothing. Cass came and sat down next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Get rest.” She said quietly.

“Only if you do, too.”

“Deal.”

———

“No, Krypto, you need to stay on the ground.” Bart groaned, attempting to keep a very eager Krypto from flying off onto the horizon to get away from a very eager to befriend Ace. “What if an actually normal person comes walking in? Then Mr Wayne is going to have to explain a flying dog. Do you want that?”

The party was in full swing in the ample Wayne manor back garden. A group of Justice League members (the ones who Bruce wanted there/could make it, anyway) were gathered around a barbecue that Dick was tending to. A few of the Teen Titans that had been invited were lingering around. Jon and Damian were engaged in a hardcore water gun battle while Lois (sitting with Kate on a pair of garden chairs) routinely warned him to stop using his powers to try and win.

Jason was notably absent, although there was a small gift on the gift table with no name attached.

“He’s not usually like this.” Kon muttered, leaning on Tim a few metres away. “I don’t really get why he is right now.”

“He doesn’t like Ace.” Tim, Cassie, and Bart all replied at once, each as dryly as the others because it really didn’t take a genius to figure that out.

Duke, the most recent addition to the growing community of people close enough to the Bats to be attending Damian’s birthday party, looked awfully confused as he regarded the scene in front of him. “See, what I don’t get is why the dog has powers at all.”

“Because he’s a Kryptonian dog.” Kon stressed.

“And the Kryptonian Superboy could maybe come over and help me stop the Kryptonian dog from flying away.” Bart complained, only to be largely ignored.

“Okay,” Duke folded his arms. “But isn’t it weird how dogs and people are literally the same as they are on Earth? Like, does that not seem like a strange coincidence to you?”

“Uh…” Kon trailed off. “I dunno. Go ask Clark.”

“Where is Clark, anyway?” Cassie asked.

“Getting his ass handed to him in tennis, probably.” Tim explained. “Bette, champion tennis player, and Dick - briefly coached by Bette, champion tennis player - challenged him and Steph to a match over on the courts past the tree line.”

“Gonna take a guess at the fact Clark isn’t a champion tennis player.”

“Not to my knowledge.” Kon shook his head.

All of a sudden, Cass appeared behind Tim, tapping his shoulder twice before walking away again, towards a jug of lemonade on a table. A signal planned well in advance - al Ghul incoming.

And sure enough, when he turned around, Alfred was accompanying Talia out of the back door and onto the lawn. She was dressed as immaculately as ever, in a dark green blazer and pencil skirt, and in her arms was a plain car sore box decorated with a large red and gold gift bow.

“Someone’s trying to impress.” Kon whispered.

Bart finally released Krypto, who was now growling softly, and stepped over to the others. “Or give a really expensive apology.”

Tim only averted his gaze, looking to where Damian had been playing just a moment before. He was gone, now stood in front of the barbecue with Bruce and Diana.

“Is it just me,” Duke asked. “Or is she even scarier in person? Like, I’ve seen her photos on file, and they were not this terrifying. Weirdest birthday party I’ve ever attended.”

If Talia was hearing anything anyone was saying, she didn’t make it known. Instead, she handed off the box to Alfred, who put it with the rest of the gifts, and surprisingly headed directly over to Tim.

What could she want with Tim?

The group surrounding him stiffened slightly as she came to a halt in front of him, aside from Duke, who just seemed to be trying his best not to look confused.

“Drake,” She greeted softly.

“Always nice to see you, Talia.” Tim said sardonically in reply.

Get her away. This isn’t about you. This is for Damian’s birthday, for god’s sake.

“My father requested I bring you a bouquet. I had it burned.”

“I can’t say I know what you want me to say to that. Thanks for your service, or whatever.”

Talia’s lips thinned, and she bowed her head slightly. “I don’t believe I’ve had a chance to properly apologise.”

“Well, as you told Bruce, you had absolutely zero idea that any of it was going to happen. So I don’t see what you could possibly have to apologise for.”

Talia’s jaw clenched in a way that told Tim all he needed to know about the way those words hit.

This is Damian’s day, Tim. Not yours.

He continued. “Go wish Damian a happy birthday. He deserves it.”

When Talia finally retreated, the tension in the atmosphere grew only minutely less palpable. Tim looked back over to the barbecue. Bruce nodded to him, his eyes soft, and Damian seemed to be trying his best to look anywhere but in the vicinity of his mother.

“Poor kid.” Cassie placed her hands on her hips. “Didn’t ask for any of this. To feel like your own mother was involved in that.”

“Nobody can figure out how truthful she’s being. That’s the problem.” Tim squeezed Kon’s hand as it reached out for his. “Until anyone gets to the bottom of that rabbit hole, things are going to carry on like this.”

“But she couldn’t have known, right? Even if she had an idea, she couldn’t have thought…”

“God knows. Maybe we never will. Anyway, it’s not my problem. And not my business.” He clapped his hands together. “Anyone want to go check in with the tennis game?”

Thankfully, they managed to get through the next twenty minutes watching Bette be the only fully competent player on the court. Dick was trying his best but still wasn’t brilliant, Steph was too focused on the power of her shots to care about where they went, and Clark kept losing because halfway through, Bette decided superpowers meant a foul.

Eventually, Bruce came by to tell everyone that the food was almost ready. Cassie, Bart, and Kon (all suddenly very willing to use their powers in a civilian atmosphere) were gone in a fraction of a moment, as Steph called after them angrily. Dick shot Tim a smile as he passed by with Bette and Clark, and Bruce held him back.

Tim turned, and Bruce was looking down at him pitifully. “I thought we could walk down together.”

“Is this about Talia?” Tim asked, because he wasn’t particularly interested in beating around the bush.

Bruce didn’t directly answer the question. “She’s gone inside to help Lois with the salad.”

“Who’d’ve thought the prestigious Talia al Ghul was capable of making her own food?”

“Are you alright? What did she say to you?”

“Just that Ra’s wanted to send me a nice little present and she didn’t want to be held responsible for delivering it, so she didn’t. It probably wasn’t for my benefit.”

“As much as I disagree with Talia the vast majority of the time, I do think she’s trying to make up for the fact she may have had an inkling of Ra’s’… interest.”

“If she really cared, she could maybe start telling the truth about that part. You know, the other day, Jason texted me to say she actually told him at one point that she knew Ra’s was fond of me, or whatever.”

“It’s a difficult thing to accept. Even for someone like her.”

“How does she think I feel?” Tim mumbled. “What about Damian? Is he okay?”

“Keeping his replies to a minimum. I’m quite proud, actually.”

“Proud that you’ve taught your son passive-aggression towards his mother?”

“Honestly? Yes. Absolutely.” Bruce smiled. “But also, proud that he doesn’t feel the need to put her feelings before his own. There was a time where he would’ve forgiven her for anything she may or may not have done in an instant. I’m glad that being here has taught him to accept people’s wrongs.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far. She’s still a very prominent criminal, and I don’t see anyone blaming her for that.”

“We know a lot of criminals, and we get along perfectly fine with a lot of them.” Bruce gave him a pointed look. “You called in a favour with one criminal to have a second kidnap you and take you to her apartment.”

“Okay, first of all, that was over a year ago. Second, Harley is literally on our team. Different kind of criminal.”

“And Talia is Damian’s mother. And she cares about him. And since Damian cares about you…”

“I see your thought process, and I choose to ignore it. Are you really trying to make me sympathise with Talia, right now?”

Bruce’s mouth creased into a thin, uncomfortable frown. “Tim, I will keep you away from both her and the rest of that family for the rest of my life, if that is what you want from me. I will give you all the choice I can. What I’m trying to do is give you another potential perspective.”

“I don’t need other potential perspectives.”

“And I’m not going to make you accept them.”

“Good.” He sped up slightly, intentions clear. “I’m gonna go talk to Kori.”

Ace ran by as a shadow passed through the sky overhead.

———

“You,” Damian rubbed the dog in front of him on the back. “Will be a formidable ally. And a fantastic friend.”

“Okay, I’ll hand it to him, Titus is a banging name.” Bart nodded, leaning over to Tim.

“Of course it is. Damian’s great with names.” Jon, where he was standing in front of Clark and Lois, grinned proudly.

Bart flinched slightly. “Ohmygod. Never will super hearing not be super scary.”

Tim wasn’t watching Damian’s pleased interactions with his new dog. He was watching Talia stand off to the side with the same box from earlier in hand, gripping it tightly. The only gift left untouched.

Later, once the crowd dispersed, Alfred would probably politely (but firmly) encourage Damian to take it anyway.

———

Tim knocked on Damian’s door. When he was met with silence, he knocked again. When he raised his hand to knock for the third time, a voice came from directly behind the door, irritated.

“What do you want?”

“Just to talk. Any reason you’re not opening the door?”

A sigh. The door opened to a mildly disgruntled Damian. “No. What is it?”

Behind him, on his desk, was a wooden carousel. Parts of the wooden exterior looked laser cut, but it definitely seemed as if it had been put together by hand, and the horses looked carved.

Tim nodded to it, resting a hand on the doorframe. “Who made that?”

Damian narrowed his eyes, not looking back to see what Tim was referring to. Which meant he knew. Which meant he was trying to avoid that particular subject.

“Mother. She told me she crafted it herself.”

“Oh. That’s… nice.”

“It has lights in it. And a motor.”

Tim furrowed his brows in confusion. “Um. That’s cool? Nice engineering.”

Damian gave him a particularly irritated look, and stepped back. “Come in.”

Tim did, and Damian closed the door firmly behind him. He then flicked the light off, and walked back over to the desk, flicking a switch on the centre of the carousel that flooded the ceiling with tiny pinpricks of light as the horses started to turn.

Damian sat down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes. Eventually, he patted the mattress next to him, and confused as he was, Tim joined him.

“You cannot see the stars often in Gotham.” Damian stated.

“You can’t.”

“Mother said it was to remind me of how I used to love the sky. As a small, naive child.”

“Did she say that?”

“No. I added the naive.” Damian hesitated, pulling his eyes away from the ceiling and looking to Tim. “I do not… enjoy hating my mother.”

“That makes sense.” Tim sighed. “Look, Damian. You don’t have to. You know that, right? Talia, she isn’t the one… I mean, technically speaking, in this specific instance, she kind of did nothing wrong. Kind of. Technically.”

He sounded a little like a child. Oh, well.

“But you, Father, and everyone else all think she did. Therefore it stands to reason that that’s the truth.”

“There’s a difference. What we think she did is keep vital information from us. I don’t think she… actually knew anything about what Ra’s was planning.”

“My mother is not an idiot. She must have understood.”

“Your mother, like a lot of people, understands logic.”

“And it was not logical.” Damian said softly, as if he’d been repeating the same thing to himself ever since that first night. “Do you really think she didn’t know?”

Tim didn’t know. He couldn’t honestly say that. But he was a good liar when he needed to be, and this boy needed a mother.

“Yeah. Exactly.”

Damian’s head turned slowly back to the carousel on the desk. He still looked uncomfortable. “I suppose I can accept this gift, then.”

“Guess you can.”

“I still prefer Titus.”

“I think it’s pretty unlikely for anything to live up to that puppy.”

———

Tim was eating a bowl of cereal when he heard the very obnoxious yell from the hallway.

“The dogs got out!”

Next to him, Damian muttered something bitterly and slid off his stool, leaving the room. Alfred, peacefully enjoying a cup of tea, raised his brows and called back.

“If you’re here for Master Wayne, he’s out.”

Jason appeared in the doorway, poking his head around. “Nah. Just here on a domestic visit. Well, not entirely domestic, I need my helmet fixed up, and this place has some good gear. Figured nobody’d be downstairs this late in the morning.”

“Steph is,” Tim replied. “And Duke.”

Jason’s face spread into a wicked grin. “Ah, yes. The elusive Duke. I don’t think we’ve met properly out of costume.”

“Jason, please don’t be an idiot.”

He waved a hand carelessly. “Relax, Timmers. Just gonna rock up and see what happens. How much does he know?”

“That you’re a royal pain in the ass—“

“Language.” Alfred chided.

“— and that your whole thing is complicated. Basically, he knows about Robin, and he knows about Red Hood, obviously, because you’ve seen him before.”

“Wow.” Jason stepped into the room and slipped into Damian’s former stool, setting his helmet down in front of him with a thud (an action to which Alfred gave a disapproving look). “Way to oversimplify my life story. Who the hell came up with that?”

“You did, according to Dick. Apparently, he called you to ask what he should say, and you said, quote, ‘I don’t care what you tell him, I’m fucking busy. Just say it’s complicated, and stop calling me.’”

Jason shrugged. “Definitely sounds like something I would do. His fault for calling me when I was busy. But hey, at least this means I now have the honour of doing the big reveal.”

“I don’t think anyone in this house trusts you to do the ‘big reveal’ after what happened last time.” Tim replied dryly.

“Low fucking blow.”

“It’s not like you were my biggest fan, I’ve gotten past it.”

“Yeah, well, we’re definitely not frolicking in the fields of friendship now, either. And you still put up with me.”

“And you don’t make it very easy.”

Jason snorted. “This is why you’re my least favourite person in this house. Well. Second least.”

“Who’s your favourite, then?”

“I’m afraid I can’t disclose that.” Jason leaned in close, staring at Alfred across the room and definitely not lowering his voice low enough for the older man to hear. “It would be extremely damaging to my reputation.”

“What reputation? You come round almost weekly.”

“Doesn’t mean I enjoy it.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

Jason raised his brows inquisitively. “You’re particularly less argumentative than usual. Want to come down with me?”

“Can’t. I’m eating breakfast.” See: I’m really not in the mood.

“Then bring your fucking breakfast down with you? Honestly, it’s like you have zero critical thinking ability.”

“Jason, I’d really rather not.”

“This about the party?” He asked, propping his arm up on his helmet.

Tim narrowed his eyes. “How’d you find out about that? I didn’t realise you were in contact with anyone.”

“Cass.”

“Traitor.” Tim mumbled, picking at the dregs of his cereal. “It’s nothing. Just feel bad for Damian.”

“Far as I can tell, you sorted that out.” Jason reached out to lightly poke Tim’s head. “So stop those tiny gears from turning and come downstairs with me.”

He had sorted it out. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel bad for taking away a boy from his mother, even temporarily and unintentionally. He shouldn’t feel bad for it - it was nothing to do with him, and it had been solved, and, again, it was nothing to do with him.

But Damian would always associate him with that, now. With the boy he had seen the night he came back from patrol a murderer. A fact he still hadn’t spoken to Bruce about.

Tim sighed, and picked up his bowl, looking to Alfred. “Can I take this with me?”

Alfred took one look at Tim, who was clearly trying to find a way out of this, and nodded. “Of course.”

Tim knew damn well Alfred didn’t like it when they brought food down to the Cave unless absolutely necessary. Specifically not things like bowls of very spill-able milk. Which meant Alfred clearly wanted this to happen. For Tim’s sake or Jason’s, he didn’t know.

Admitting defeat, Tim sighed and ventured down to the Cave with Jason, who immediately announced his arrival with a very loud, very incoherent yell. In response, Steph shouted a very loud what the fuck, and Jason only laughed.

Jason’s eyes gleamed as he looked back at Tim’s pressing a finger to his lips and signing a quick ‘where are they?’.

‘Workshop.’ Tim signed in response, and Jason bolted.

Tim followed slowly behind, taking another spoonful of his cereal. He only picked up the pace when he heard something clatter down the set of stairs to the area used to fix up the vehicles. About four steps down, he regarded the scene in front of him with mild amusement.

Steph was glaring at Jason, a wrench in one hand. He, on the other hand, was just stood there, staring, unimpressed, at a pair of pliers on the ground. Duke was just watching the scene with raised brows.

“You evil, terrifying bastard.” Steph groaned, slowly lowering the wrench to her side.

“Yeah.” Jason shrugged. “I get that a lot.”

She bristled. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Well, people keep telling me I’m completely welcome, so I thought I’d test the limits of that and steal a bunch of your shit to fix up my busted helmet.” He held it up to demonstrate this point. It had a rather large dent on the top right and both lenses were completely broken.

“The fuck happened?”

“Oh, you know.” Jason turned to Duke without explaining, and it was at this point Tim finally descended the rest of the stairs, just in case. “Hi. Jason.”

“Yeah, I know.” Duke said with a nod, though he seemed a little uncertain.

“Brilliant.” He paused. “Bummer about your parents—“

“You can’t just say that, asshole.” Steph objected.

“Why not?” A very clear challenge was being put in place.

Steph only narrowed her eyes. “Just ignore him if you want, Duke.”

“Nah, it’s… cool.” Duke said slowly. It clearly wasn’t cool, but also not the end of the world, either. Tim got that. It was basically his response to anyone bringing up his parents, just with slightly more emotion. “And, uh… thanks? I guess?”

“You’re welcome.” Jason sauntered over to a desk, rummaging through a drawer. “You don’t have any tech-y shit in here.”

“That’s because this is the vehicle workshop.” Steph replied. “I’m helping Duke with his cycle.”

“Then where’s the tech?”

“Dunno. Ask Bruce.”

“He’s out.” Tim, Jason, and Duke all answered at once.

Steph raised her hands defensively, and Duke gave her a questioning look. “I thought you were kidding when you said you just ‘came straight here’.”

“No. Getting to the Manor is a pain in the ass, you know. No public transport. Sometimes I just fling on a cape and a mask and bike on over directly.”

“Doesn’t sound like your Batgirl uniform,” Jason mused, still trying to find something workable among small motorcycle tools and parts. “You’re back to Spoiler?”

“I’ve been back to Spoiler for months, you prick. I thought you stalked us, or something—“

“Sorry, what?” Duke asked quietly.

“— and besides, we literally worked together like three weeks ago.”

Jason only shrugged, finally giving up and standing. “I don’t pay enough attention for that.”

“You—“

“He’s kidding.” Tim interjected, putting his bowl down on a nearby surface. “What’s up with the bike?”

“Well,” Duke began. “I tried to ride it up to the ramp so I could be prepared for when I need to go out. And the front caught on fire.”

“Basically, we don’t know.” Steph finished. “Hey, Jason, you know about bikes, right? Can you fix it?”

Jason nodded. “Almost definitely.”

“Great. Then Tim, what are you doing down here? Aren’t you supposed to be going to work, or something?”

“I dragged him down. He’s in a mood.”

Steph caught on frustratingly easily. “Oh. Right. Damian’s fine, by the way.”

Tim sighed. “How does everyone know about this?”

“I, for one, did not.” Duke held up his hands defensively, and then slowly lowered them again. “Well, not until I showed up and Bruce was all ‘be careful around Tim and Damian, they’re trying to work through their problems and whatnot’.”

“I don’t think he actually said that.”

“It’s about what he implied.” Steph said. “Seriously though, are you good? Like, aside from the obvious. Need me to go get your boyfriend? Anyone else in your funky little non-polycule?”

“Seriously, Steph, I’m fine. I don’t see what you’ve got to do with it either, Jason.”

“Hey, sorry for getting the wrong impression from the fact the only times we see each other are when you’re in deep shit.” Jason retorted. “I think it’s an omen at this point.”

“Not unless you make it one.”

“Wait, how many times have—“ Duke was quickly cut off by both Tim and Jason, who shared their internal count.

“Seven.”

“Oh. Is that, like, the norm, or…?”

“Nah,” Jason shrugged. “It’s our thing. Certain people would probably call it a bonding opportunity, but I really don’t want to bond with short stack any time soon, so…”

Steph scoffed. “What kind of psycho would call any of those things a bonding— oh, Bruce, okay.”

“See? She gets it.” Jason brandished a tenon saw and jabbed it halfheartedly in Tim’s direction. “Now. You. Turn that frown upside down or discuss your problems with three responsible adults, ‘cause we’re all here and I don’t think anyone’s leaving.”

“What?” Tim questioned in reply, exasperated. “No, I— again, what? I’m not doing that.”

Jason took this surprisingly well.

“If you say so. Hey, I don’t suppose you could go find out from Alfie where all the tech stuff is?”

Tim glared. “I’m not your errand boy.”

“So you won’t go find out where all the tech stuff is?”

He sighed. “Obviously I will.”

“I’ll come.” Steph grinned, patting the bike before walking over to Tim’s side and swinging an arm around his shoulders. “Be back in a bit, Duke. Have fun with Jason.”

Duke did not look like he thought he was going to have a lot of fun with Jason. And, knowing Jason, that belief wasn’t entirely unfounded. In fact, as Tim made his way back up the stairs, he distinctly heard the confident beginnings of an amused ‘So, do you know how I met Tim?’.

———

Five minutes later, Tim and Steph still hadn’t found Alfred. It was one of the few perils of having an absolutely giant house, really. After scouring the entire bottom floor and the patio, Tim finally dragged Steph upstairs to check the study, which was really the only other feasible place he could be.

Before they reached the study, however, Tim heard an odd noise from inside Damian’s room. Steph must’ve heard it too, because she came to an abrupt halt even before Tim did, furrowing her brows in worry.

She pointed to Damian’s bedroom door and tilted her head in question. Tim only shrugged. Steph rolled her eyes.

‘He’s crying. Idiot.’ She signed forcefully. ‘Should check on him. You knock.’

‘Why?’ Tim signed back.

‘More likely to let you in.’

You know what? That was probably fair, these days.

Tim stepped forward and knocked on the door. “Damian? Are you… okay?”

“Leave.” The response came in an unnervingly even tone. He certainly didn’t sound like he’d been crying.

“You’re crying.”

“Quite the observation.”

Steph huffed impatiently behind Tim and stepped up to the door, too. “What’s bothering you, kid?”

“Perfect,” Damian muttered. “You’re here, too.”

“Yes, we get it, you’re a teenager now and you’re going through puberty. Just tell us what’s happening, or we’ll go get Alfred. It’s no use keeping us out now we know you’re capable of outwardly expressing emotion.”

“You’re not funny.”

“I can go get Jason, if you want comedy.”

Finally, a scratching came at the door, and Damian muttered something unintelligible on the other side. A bark, and finally, Damian groaned in submission.

“Move out of the way, both of you. Ace and Titus wish to leave.”

Both of them did as they were asked without a word, and the door opened to allow both dogs to come skidding outside. They both disappeared down the hall in an instant, but Damian didn’t close the door.

Tim peered inside. On the bed was a small red box and a crumpled piece of paper.

“Oh, secret admirer?” Steph asked, evidently joking.

Damian only looked away. “It’s not mine.”

And Tim knew exactly what that meant. He held a hand up as soon as Steph looked to him in hopes of finding the words to say something, and just kept his focus on Damian.

“Damian… let me see.”

“I was going to destroy it.”

“I want to see, anyway.”

Damian wasn’t going to argue with that. He wouldn’t. So he didn’t fight when Tim stepped past him into the bedroom, reaching for the paper and holding it up.

Timothy,

I would quite like to put this unpleasantness behind us. As such, I have sent a gift of apology in hopes that future team efforts will not be hindered. This is, regrettably, my third attempt at giving such a thing.

I do still believe that in time, you can come to see the light. And that you will be a more formidable ally than even an al Ghul.

Yours, Ra’s

“What the fuck.” Steph whispered over his shoulder.

“It was to the side of the porch when I went out to bring Ace and Titus back inside,” Damian replied, looking a little ill. “I wanted to have it destroyed before you could find it.”

Tim couldn’t find the right words to say. Steph certainly could.

“That bastard. That actual fucking bitch of a man. I am going to kill him, I swear to god.”

“Nobody’s killing anyone, not after Jason did it the first time.” Tim mumbled eventually. “Believe me, nobody wants that man dead more than I do, but it’s not like he wouldn’t just come back again. Again, again. All that would do is cause unnecessary problems.”

“But I mean, what an actual prick! If this is his first time sending…” Steph looked over at the box on the bed. “Ew, gross, he sent you perfume? Anyway, if this is his third time trying to send that, and the last two people he got to send it for him refused, you’d think a guy like him would get the fucking picture.”

“As if. He’s—“

Tim raised his head, and Damian was crying again. Silently. It was almost unnerving, the way nothing but his eyes seemed to be reacting to the tears. As if they didn’t come from a place of sadness at all.

Any other child, and Tim would’ve wrapped him in a hug. Out on patrol, trying to comfort someone who had learned something like that, and Tim would be doing anything to calm them. But Damian did not like to be hugged, and Damian had known about this situation for a while. All this was was a reminder.

And Tim didn’t very well know what to do for Damian when he didn’t know what to do for himself.

“Hey, kid…” Steph muttered, trailing off upon realising that she didn’t exactly know what to say, either. “We’ve just got to get rid of this, okay? Then it’s all gone. Out of sight, out of mind, yeah?”

She cringed at her own words. Damian’s gaze hardened slightly.

“He’s not going to stop. Grandfather, he’s nothing if not persistent.”

Tim shook his head. “Yeah, that’s something I’ve long since come to terms with, Damian. I promise, I’m not letting it get to me.”

“But it’s my fault!” Damian bit back, too suddenly for him to have spent any time considering his words. “If I had only remained trustworthy enough to be the sole heir, Grandfather would not need you. And none of this would have happened.”

“We both know that’s not true. I stayed with the League on purpose. To find Bruce. You know that.”

“That just makes it sound like you’re blaming yourself.”

“No, don’t worry, I’m way past that stage.” Tim meant it as a lighthearted comment. Understandably, nobody seemed to take it that way.

“What I think Tim is trying to say,” Steph nudged Tim’s arm lightly. “Is that you shouldn’t be worrying about this. He’s a big boy. He can handle things by himself—“

“Well—“

“— hey, at least let me finish. God. And when he can’t, he will fucking say it, or I will kick his ass to high heaven. You can too, if you want.”

“Can we please not encourage Damian kicking my ass? He threatens that enough already.”

Damian sniffed quietly, and wiped his eyes clear with his collar. “I… accept these terms.”

Steph nodded triumphantly as Tim made a small sound of halfhearted disapproval. If it helped Damian, it helped Damian. And Steph had definitely also said all of it for his benefit, too.

“Brilliant.” Steph nodded, walking back over to the doorway and beckoning for Tim to follow. “We’ll be back in a sec. We’re on strict orders to find Alfred, but nobody ever said we had to come back afterwards.”

Damian looked uncomfortable. “Why would you be coming back?”

“Thought we could hang out for a bit. Team setting fire to that letter in the back garden without telling Alfred because he’d murder us all in cold blood.”

Damian said nothing, only stepping aside to allow the two of them to leave. As Tim followed Steph down the hallway a pace behind, he found himself relaxing slightly. The same as he always did in Steph’s presence. She was just that kind of person. And yet…

“How did you know exactly what to say? I mean, seriously, talking to Damian is a skill you should put into use more often, if you have it.”

Steph shrugged. “Just said what I thought I’d like to hear in his situation. And, hey, I mean it. I’m keeping an eye on you, as your favourite ex-girlfriend and self-proclaimed best friend. Well, one of them, because you pretty much have a million. Indecisive, much.”

“Very funny. But thank you, anyway. You know I appreciate it.”

“Don’t go around saying it! You’ll kill my reputation around here as the cool, stubborn, contrarian member of the team. Imagine what my enemies would think if I started being nice to people.”

“And who exactly are your enemies in this house?”

“They’re everywhere, Tim. They’re always watching.” She replied solemnly. “Or at least, they would be if one of them wasn’t in the basement and the other wasn’t at a dance rehearsal.”

“Jason and Cass are your enemies?”

“Jason’s an asshole, and Cass is a traitor. Never tell her your secrets, ever.”

Tim smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good.” Steph swung around the doorway into the study, eyes brightening. “Alfred! Hey, Jason has a question…”

———

Conner Kent could definitely get away with the most ridiculous sunglasses known to man, both as a civilian and in uniform. He could show up full Elton John and nobody would bat an eye.

Tim, on the other hand? He was beginning to think that maybe he should’ve come up with a better way to look inconspicuous. Because although nobody had turned to look at him on the other side of the door throughout the whole session, he felt almost certain that someone in there thought he was being a creep.

Hey, at least if he was being a creep, so was Kon, standing next to him. Only there because Tim needed someone with him.

It had been half an hour. Half the session. Tim still hadn’t managed to work his way inside. And now everyone was standing up, walking over to the back of the room for food and drink to break up the atmosphere for a few minutes. An older woman turned to another that had been sitting with her back to the door the entire time, nodding back to where Tim was standing.

“Shit,” He whispered as the second woman stood, moving out of sight and presumably towards the door.

Before either him or Kon could do anything at all, the woman had opened the door, looking between the two of them with raised brows.

Tim recognised her, he realised.

“Are… you two here for the meeting?” She prompted.

“Yeah.” Kon replied, swinging an arm around Tim’s shoulder firmly. A reminder that Tim had, in fact, told him to keep him from bailing no matter what.

“Oh. You can come in, you know, we don’t bite.” She shrugged, smiling. “But I do understand that it can be a bit daunting. It was for me, which is why I brought my girlfriend - well, fiancée, now - with me. My name’s Holly, by the way.”

Tim finally swallowed the cinder block in his throat and nodded precisely, because something in his mind was desperately trying to tell him this was a business meeting.

“Tim. Drake.” He paused, before glancing up at Kon. “This is my boyfriend, Conner.”

“It’s great to meet both of you. Come on in. We have cake.”

It was strange, Tim thought as he followed Holly into the hall. How different she seemed now. Obviously, she wasn’t concussed now, and time had passed, and apparently she’d gotten engaged. And yet, she still seemed a little grimmer. Even through the smiles and warm welcomes. The reality probably hadn’t set in when the pair of them had still been on the scene.

Had he changed that much? So minutely, yet so noticeably? Did it matter?

“You don’t have to share anything if you don’t want to,” Holly explained. “The group’s founder, her name’s Sarah, you’ve probably emailed before coming. She’s really nice. And— ohmygodTina!”

Holly jolted as Tina appeared on her other side, wrapping her arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Got you some cake,” Tina said simply. “And I left it on your chair. Who are these guys?”

“This is Tim and Conner. They’re new.”

“Huh,” Tina’s gaze lingered on Tim for a moment. “Do I know you from somewhere? I feel like I recognise you.”

Tim said nothing, caught between the option of blatant denial and the classic Gotham ‘maybe we were in a hostage situation together’. Eventually, though, Tina’s eyes widened in realisation, and he’d missed his chance.

“Oh, you’re the Tim. Wayne Tim. This is not how I expected my day to go, but, you know. It’s… great to meet you?”

“Wait, really?” Holly raised her brows.

Unfortunately, Tim had forgotten about this fact. Apparently, Clark Kent was the master of using glasses as a disguise (at least in a stressful situation like this, anyway).

“… Yes.” He said slowly, unable to help the forming grimace.

“Oh. Maybe it was the sunglasses.” Holly gestured to her own face, and Tim sheepishly pulled the sunglasses off. “In any case, nobody’s going to make a big deal of it. So you don’t need to worry.”

“Told you.” Kon whispered, rather unhelpfully.

All of a sudden, a slightly older woman’s voice called out from the circle of folding chairs in the middle of the room. “If people want to start heading back now, that would be great. And it looks like the final person on my register has shown up, so now seems like a good time to redo introductions.”

———

The Cave filled with noise as two bikes came driving in. On the back of one, behind Cass, Harley whooped.

“Okay, I’ll give it to you. You know how to drive in a fun way. Not like—“

“Harley.” Bruce sighed, standing off to the side of the computer with a mug in hand.

Harper, following behind on a second bike, dismounted and shot Cass a look. “You owe me ten bucks.”

Cass nodded solemnly. ‘Tomorrow.’

Tim, sat in front of the computer, smiled thinly as Harley approached and ruffled his hair. “I think what B means to say is that he didn’t expect you coming here.”

“Eh, y’know.” Harley shrugged. “Figured I’d help Bats and Blue with the report, seein’ as I was so involved with the whole situation. Someone’d be on my ass about it if I didn’t.”

Harper scoffed. “The real reason is that she… actually, no, it’s probably best if you see for yourself. Tim, get GNN up.”

As Tim worked on opening the news channel on the computer screen, Harley only stood and grinned, folding her arms proudly. Bruce looked significantly less impressed.

Eventually, Tim turned on the news just in time for an older man to be nodding to the camera to switch to a live feed of a news reporter… in front of a burning building. Well, burning was a bit of an overstatement, because really it was more of an ongoing explosion near the top. He almost questioned why they’d have someone right below that, but then remembered it was Gotham, and that made sense.

“What ha—“

Harley lightly poked Bruce in the side. “Shush. Let the reporter speak.”

On screen, the reporter was speaking with a grave frown. “Thank you, Harold. As you can see, the fire is still raging over here at the offices in question. Police and fire and rescue are on scene, but so far, we haven’t seen anyone emerge. Thankfully, it looks like the building was already empty. We actually have a witness to the incident here with us now. Can you tell us your name?”

The reporter extended her microphone to a tired-looking blond man.

“Yeah, uh, I’m Eric. I work at the sandwich place across the street. Me and my partner on shift were just locking up for the night when we heard the explosion, and suddenly it was hot as fuck, and we were all ducking down and shit so we didn’t get blown up. Then a couple minutes later, we saw Harley fucking Quinn running out. Looked like some of the Bat-chicks were following her, though.”

“And you’re sure that it was Harley Quinn you saw?”

Eric shrugged. “Yeah, think so.”

“Incredible. Tonight, I’m sure anyone who’s seen this disaster is wondering what on Earth would warrant such a reaction. Even for someone like Quinn.”

The reporter continued in the background, but Harley only scoffed. “Unbelievable. You try to do a good deed, and for what? More bad press. They act like I’m some sorta’ hysterical bitch.”

Cass moved to Bruce’s side before he could say anything. “Deserved.”

Bruce gave her a wary look. “Cass, it was an empty building.”

“Not empty. Escaped. League.”

Oh. Suddenly, at least in Tim’s eyes, this made a lot more sense.

“The others looked kinda weird when we got into the lab setup they had goin’ on.” Harley waved a dismissive hand as she explained. “So I set off a few explosives. Don’t need to know what the actual problem was. In my experience, a good bomb never fails to solve life’s challenges.”

Bruce remained silent for a moment. He didn’t turn to Tim, which Tim did very much appreciate - Harley wasn’t the smartest talker, but she definitely wasn’t the idiot she occasionally liked to make herself seem.

Finally, he nodded. “Alright. I do think a conversation needs to be had about bringing explosives out on nights when you know you’re helping any of us, however.”

“You never cease to amaze with your killjoy approach to life, Bruce.”

“Also, you mentioned a lab?”

“Yeah. I left the actual investigatin’ of that place to the others. Mostly just stood around until I decided I was gonna fuck the place up. Silent but Deadly over there definitely could’a stopped me if she wanted to, by the way. She for sure approved.”

Cass nodded without a moment’s hesitation. “Still deserved.”

“Right. Never liked those guys, anyway. Hope I didn’t cause too much trouble. Just, you know. The normal amount.”

“It’s nothing we can’t handle.” Bruce nodded to the exit. “You can leave early. Just be sure to get a written report to myself or Oracle as soon as possible.”

Harley grinned. “Guess I’ll take my leave, then. Whichever bike I take with me, I swear I’ll get it back within a week, this time. Adiós, children.”

Once Harley had left the room in search for a vehicle to get herself home, the attention shifted, predictably, to Tim. Luckily, he was very eager to have this conversation.

“Alright,” Tim span around to face away from the computer. “What was in the mysterious blown up lab?”

Cass said just one word. “Freezer.”

That wasn’t very descriptive—

“Oh.”

Cass nodded. “Gone, now.”

“So are all the League members that were in there.”

“Got out, yes. But nobody important.”

Tim looked away, thinking for a moment. This was arguably the least relieving relief that he had ever felt. In fact, it felt rather ominous. Probably because no amount of exploding of resources (if that was even a term that could be used) was ever going to fully end whatever this thing with Ra’s was.

For now, though, there really wasn’t much Ra’s could do. He had no leverage for the moment. Neither of them did. Tim was free.

A stalemate was the best he could hope for. It was the best he could ever hope for.

———

“Red Robin, Batman wants you back at the Cave in half an hour.”

Tim could feel the grin radiating off of Jason at his side.

“Thank you, Oracle,” He replied. “I’ll be there. Just have to wrap things up here.”

“Heard. Signing off.”

Tim tapped his comm, and then glared at Jason. “Alright. Get it out while you can.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine.” Jason chuckled. “Believe me, I’ve heard worse on your line than your bedtime. Like the time you got your uniform caught on an electrical line and had to call in reinforcements.”

Tim scowled. “That was… what, two years ago?”

“You didn’t think I only started listening in after I got to Gotham, did you? Come on. You’d better start heading back, so the big guy doesn’t come looking.”

Jason hopped down from the storage crate he was sitting on. Tim quickly followed, walking through the maze of coloured metal.

“Happy two year anniversary to knowing me, by the way.” Jason said suddenly, putting his hands in his pockets. “Only remembered ‘cause I was looking for something in my search history.”

“Didn’t know you were sentimental. Or that your search history went back two years.”

“Well, it would go back eight. But, you know.” Jason glanced back. “But, hey. Two years ain’t all that. You’re still in your teens. Even if you are in the slightly less cool teens where you have to pay taxes, and stuff, ‘cause you’re also an adult. I’m still having delightful talks with you in the dark when you should be at home.”

“It’s marginally more tolerable when you’re not beating me up, I will admit.”

“And you’ve grown a little. Not that you’re ever gonna catch up to me or Nightwing. I think you must be just about done now.”

Tim furrowed his brows. “Where are you actually going with this?”

“Just that maybe you’re not quite as shitty as I thought you would be. And that it’s entirely possible - not for sure, though - that having you around wasn’t completely detrimental to my wellbeing.”

“High praise.”

“You don’t sound thrilled about my incredible compliments.”

“Oh, my bad. You’re fantastic and brilliant and incredible and awesome, too.”

“Thank you.” A pause. “So, how’s… whatever you spend your time doing?”

“I fixed a deal at work the other day. Not sure if that’s what you’re looking for, but it’s basically the only notable thing to have happened since the last time you asked me that question about two weeks ago.”

“Yeah, fuck you, too.”

“How’s whatever you spend your time doing?”

“Got evicted from my apartment and had to find a new one.”

“Anything Hood related?”

“Nah. Violated the no pets clause. Stole a duck from my downstairs neighbour who also wasn’t supposed to have pets, by the way, and happened to not be treating it with the care it needed.”

Tim raised his brows. “Right.”

“His name’s Clopin.”

“… right. Named after what, exactly?”

“Notre-Dame de Paris by Victor Hugo.”

“Like the Disney movie?”

“Fuck no. Like the classic piece of literature. At the very least, you could’ve said the musical.”

“Alright, my bad.” Tim paused for a moment. “I assume the reason you keep asking stupid questions that you don’t want the answers to isn’t just boredom?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Well, yeah. This is weird behaviour.”

“Just keeping up with the Bats.”

“If you say so.”

A long pause as they finally came across their bikes. As Jason mounted his, he turned around to look Tim dead in the eyes.

“You know, if you were ever want me to kill somebody for you again—“

“Goodnight, Jason. I get it, you’re secretly not heartless. I’ll definitely keep that in mind.” Tim revved his bike pointedly. “I am going back to the Cave, now, unless you have any more fascinating developments to share with me.”

“Well, if I do, I’ll figure them out as I race you back. Picking something up.”

“How convenient.”

“So… no to the race?”

“Absolutely yes to the race.”