#Firmly believe that damian look exactly like talia

[oifaaa]

Batboy bruce is just Damian but somehow more of a gremlin without the murderous intent

I mean where did you think Damian got it from he definitely didn't get it from Talia no all that gremlin energy came directly from Bruce Wayne

#Ask #Jetwave #Firmly believe that damian look exactly like talia #But his personality #That came from Bruce

[huilian]

for Damian Wayne Week 2021, day 5, prompt: ‘Mother and Son’ and ‘Brother’

Dick watches as Talia scours every inch of their cell. She has been doing that for almost three hours, now. Dick stopped way back at hour one. He knows why they’re here, knows exactly why it’s the two of them in this cell. Ra’s will get his way, whether they like it or not. 

It brings back memories, to be honest. This is just like the first time he met Talia, except this time, instead of testing Bruce, Ra’s is testing Damian. 

“Talia,” he finally says, “sit down. You know you’re not going anywhere.”

She scoffs. “Maybe you were raised to give up, Richard, but I was not. I will find a way out of here, and when I do, my father will have many things to answer to.”

Dick sighs. He doesn’t want to do this either, but he knows that even if they manage to get out, Ra’s will just try again. He’s like a cockroach, unable to be killed. Eventually, he will get what he wants, and this time, what he wants is to test Damian. 

“And what are you going to do once you’re out?” Dick asks, trying to appeal to Talia’s logical side. “You know he’s just going to do it all over again. This time, it’s just a kidnapping. What if next time it’s worse? Do you want to do that to Damian? Better to just get it over with.”

Talia looks at him with venom in her eyes. He knows that it’s because she knows that he is right, and she is pissed about it. 

“Fine,” she spits out. “But only because of Damian.” 

She walks around the cell one more time, and then chooses the spot that is farthest away from Dick to sit down. 

They spend several minutes that way, each lost in their own thoughts. Dick wonders what Talia is thinking about. He knows what he is thinking: the last time he saw Talia. The image of the Heretic, standing over Damian’s body with a bloody sword, swirls in his mind. He will never be able to forget it, no matter how many times he has hugged his little brother to convince himself that Damian is here, breathing and alive. 

Finally, because he has always wanted to ask this to Talia, and because there is no better time and place than right now, with just the two of them in this cell and no lethal weapons between them, Dick says, “Why did you kill him, Talia?”

She turns her head towards him in an instant. He sees her eyes narrow, but Dick stands his ground. He needs to know this, because Damian may have accepted the fact that his mother sent out bounties for his head, may have accepted the fact that his mother sent a clone of himself to kill him, but Dick hasn’t. 

“I didn’t kill him,” she snaps at him, but Dick doesn’t want her semantics. 

“You sent a clone of him to kill him, Talia,” he snaps back. “You killed him.”

“I didn’t kill him!” she shouts. Dick watches as she takes in a few breaths, and then she whispers, “I didn’t mean to kill him.

“He… He wasn’t meant to kill Damian. He was supposed to follow orders, he was supposed to follow my orders,” she continues. “But then he…” She closes her eyes, placing her head back on the walls of the cells. “He was supposed to follow orders,” she finishes. 

“The Heretic?” Dick asks. 

Talia nods. 

Suddenly, Dick understands. He knows about the Heretic, knows about Talia’s plans to create a perfect child, a child who would follow her every order. He also knows the lengths of what Talia would do to achieve that.

“He’s a human being too, Talia,” he finally says.

She sighs. “Yes. Yes, he was.”

They sit in silence again for a while, but the previous conversation only gave Dick more questions than answers. “I still don’t understand,” he tries again. “Even… even discounting what you did with Leviathan, you still hurt him. You said the Heretic was supposed to follow orders. Damian was too, wasn’t he?”

Damian, forcing himself to go on patrol even when he’s almost delirious from a fever. Damian, forcing himself not to flinch when he think he has done something wrong, because he knew that flinching would earn him an even worse punishment. Damian, not comprehending the fact that someone could love him just for who he is, and not for what he could do. 

Dick doesn’t wait for an answer. He continues on. “I don’t understand how you can do that to a child, any child, much less your own.”

Talia looks back at him. “Do you think it’s easy being the daughter of the Demon?” she growls. “Life in the League is hard. Being a relative to the Demon’s Head is even harder.”

Dick frowns. That’s not the explanation he wanted— nothing would ever be an explanation he wanted, because he could not comprehend doing that to Damian— but it’s something. Something to build on. 

“Is that why you do all of that?”

“I…” Talia sighs. She looks around the cell they’re in, and then seems to decide something. The tension in her body disappears, and she almost looks like she is melting into the wall behind her. “I bore him, you know,” she says. “I told him he was made in an artificial womb, but the only artificial thing about it is that it has been made and remade, again and again, with the Lazarus. Nine months, and more.” She smiles. “Even as a baby in the womb, he wants to have his way.” 

Dick finds himself smiling back. He doesn’t know why Talia is talking about this, what purpose this conversation will have, but he senses that Talia is, for once, being honest about Damian with him. And he would never say no to baby stories of Damian. 

“That does sound like Damian,” Dick says. “What did he do?”

“The average length of a pregnancy is thirty-nine weeks. He was with me for forty-two weeks. The doctor was about to induce labour when my water suddenly broke.”

“Not about to let anyone tell him what to do, huh?”

“That’s Damian,” Talia says, the smile on her face softer than anything Dick has seen before. 

“Why did you tell him he was made in the artificial womb?” Dick prods. 

She pauses, and, in an uncharacteristic display of honesty, says, “To stop his sentiment on me.”

“What?”

“Tell me, Richard. What has sentiment ever done for me?” She shakes her head. “Nothing but pain. I thought…”

“You could spare him that pain,” Dick finishes. “Didn’t work, huh?”

Talia goes back to looking at him with venom in her eyes. This time, however, the venom is of a different kind. It’s the kind of venoms that mothers will willingly spit out for their children, even as it hurts themselves. 

“Obviously,” she says, in a way that is so reminiscent of Damian. It’s clear where Damian got those traits. 

Dick waits for Talia to keep talking, but she is like Damian in this way too. Or, perhaps, more accurately, Damian is like her in this way. They both realize that they have said far too much, and stops. Thankfully, Dick is well-practiced in the art of coaxing answers out of Damian. 

“You love him, don’t you?” he asks. 

Talia bites her lips, war clear in her eyes. Or perhaps only clear for someone who has seen that exact same look in her son’s eyes far too many times. Finally, she spits out, “What do you think? His blood is my blood and his bones are my bones.”

Dick takes that in, and then says, “I think that I have never understood you, Talia. You say you love him, but then you control his body. But then you put a bounty on his head. And even if you said you didn’t mean for him to die, you still put him in that situation. How am I supposed to believe you love him when you did all of that?”

“I…” Talia sighs. “I might as well go all in and answer that. I’ve said far too much already.” She shakes her head. “But, a trade, if you will, Richard? A question for a question. An answer for an answer.”

Dick thinks about it for a moment, and then shrugs. What’s the worst that could happen? “Sure.”

“I did that out of… jealousy,” she says. “Or rage. Or madness. I don’t know. Or maybe I’m tired of being used by someone I cared about and wanted to see what it’s like to use someone. And Damian… Damian is the only one who can be my target. 

“Or maybe I just want to have Damian for myself. To not have to share my son with someone else. Because,” she looks him straight in the eye, “if you recall, Richard, by then Damian was no longer only mine, and will never be only mine again.

“Selfishness, then.” She closes her eyes, and breathes out. “For twenty months, I am all that he knows, for even Ra’s al Ghul wishes to do nothing with an infant. For twenty short months, and that’s including his gestation, I am his whole world. But then I have to share him with my father, with the League, and with his father, eventually.

“Why do you think I didn’t tell him about his father until much later? I didn’t want to share him. But share him I did, and that made me…. bitter.”

Dick blinks. He wasn’t expecting that answer. It made Talia seemed… human.

Of course he knows that Talia is human, but in Dick’s mind, Talia is always something else. Something other. Lazarus pits and Leagues of Assassins and forgotten myths from centuries ago. 

He should have known better. She is as human as he is, and right now, she sounds like any other mother, who wants to keep their child to themselves. 

“So I guess,” she continues, “the answer to your question is, I took his body because I want to feel what it’s like to use instead of be used. And I… I killed him because I’ve had to share him with others. The Heretic was also mine, you know. So were the Sons. I convinced myself that I didn’t need, didn’t want Damian anymore because I have them already. 

“But I was wrong. Damian is my son, and that will never change.”

“Do you regret it?” Dick can’t help but ask. 

“Regret it?” she looks at him incredously. “I will spend the rest of my days asking myself why I did that. I will spend the rest of my days being thankful for Damian’s forgiveness.”

Dick has nothing to say to that. Talia doesn’t either, it seems, because she is silent for a while, before she visibly collected herself. 

“That’s enough from me for now,” she says, mask firmly back on. “You owe me two answers, Richard.”

“Two?” Dick asks. 

“You asked two questions, did you not?” she raises her eyebrows. 

Dick sighs. He should have known. “Alright,” he sighs. “Ask away, Talia.”

She is silent for a while. “What did you do,” she finally says, “that makes Damian love you so?”

Dick blows out a breath. He really should have known. Talia isn’t going to skimp on the questions. He knows how she thinks. She didn’t expect to be giving out so much information, but now that she did, she’s going to make the most out of it and grill him for as much information as she gave out. 

“Asking difficult questions, huh, Talia?” he asks, more to give himself time to think than actually asking. 

“You are the one who started it, Richard,” she replies back. “Now answer the question.”

Dick tries to gather his thoughts, but eventually, he says, “I… I guess it’s because… it was just the two of us. That time when Bruce was gone. Everyone else left and…” He wants to say that he cannot in good conscience let Damian go back to her, but that doesn’t seem like a good thing to say right now. He does have some tack. 

“And it was just the two of us,” Dick repeats. He looks back at her, and remembers that she gave him an honest answer, or as honest as she could manage, and decides that he will too. “I didn’t give up on him. He kept expecting me to send him away, but… But I need him to be there, too.” Dick laughs a little, because if you told him, back when he was still wearing the cowl and shouldering the weight of the legacy Bruce left him, that he needed Damian there, he would have scoffed. But he knows better, now. 

“I need him there with me, because if it was just me, alone, I don’t think we would be having this conversation, Talia,” Dick says with a small smile. “So I didn’t give up on him, and he didn’t give up on me, and we came out together.”

“And that made him love you?” she asks with a frown on her face. 

“That made us love each other,” Dick answers.

“Ah,” she says, but Dick can see the frown deepening on her face. He considers explaining to her, but ultimately decides not to. She needs to figure this out on her own. 

Besides, she would not appreciate it if she think he’s condescending her. 

“Your second question?” Dick prods. He’s half-tempted to consider that her last question as the second question in this ‘game’ that they’re playing, but even he’s not that cruel. 

Talia opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, the door to their cell opens. 

“Mother!” Damian shouts. “Grayson!” he shouts again, almost running towards Dick. 

Dick is already standing up before his little brother even steps foot inside the cell. He opens his arms and Damian crashes into them, pushing the air out of Dick’s lungs.

Then, almost as quickly as it happened, Damian releases himself from the hug. He looks over towards Talia, as if remembering that she is also here, and composes himself. 

“It is good to see you well, Mother,” Damian says. 

“It is good to see you well also, my son,” Talia replies. 

They look at each other, but Dick has had enough of looking and of awkward silences. He scoops Damian back up his arms, and says, “Where’s everyone else?” 

Because if Damian came here by himself, there will be hell to pay back home. 

Damian seems to know that, because he turns to look at Dick, eyes wide even through the lenses of the domino mask. “They are outside,” he says. 

Which means that Damian ditched them to come here on his own. Dick raises his eyebrows, which is retaliated by Damian’s scrunched up nose. “They are outside,” he says again, voice tinged with petulance. 

Thankfully— and this shows just how much have changed between the two of them, that Dick can honestly be thankful for this— Talia is there. She crouches down in front of Damian, and says, slowly and clearly, “That was foolish.”

“I…” Damian tries, but with the two of them looking at him, he doesn’t have a chance. “Fine,” he grits out. “Fine.” 

Which is good enough for Dick. For now, anyways. He doesn’t want to do this in front of Talia, no matter how much insight about her he has just gained. He shakes his little brother a bit, just to show that he’s teasing, and says, “Were you worried about us?”

“No,” Damian grumbles. “I was more worried about the fact that the two of you were left alone, unsupervised.”

Talia clicks her tongue, seemingly sharing Dick’s exasperation. She is just more vocal about it. For a moment, Dick thinks that she’s going to flick Damian’s ear, or bop his nose, but of course she doesn’t. After that one, single click, she goes straight back to business, and asks, “And what does my father wants you to do this time?”

Dick almost misses the woman she was, just a few minutes ago, when it was just the two of them, confessing something only the other one would understand. Almost. But then he snaps back, remembers that they are here for a reason, and tunes in to Damian’s answer. 

“... another one of his cumbersome tests,” Damian finishes. Dick subconciously tightens his hold on Damian, thinking of all the things Ra’s al Ghul would want to test, before he deliberately lets go again. Damian would not appreciate Dick treating him like a child, especially in front of Talia. 

“Hmm,” Talia hums, apparently thinking the same thing as Dick. She looks over Damian again, but, evidently finding nothing wrong with him, just taps him once in the cheek and says, “Be careful.” 

“Yes, Mother,” Damian grumbles again. “Can we go, now? I believe more of Grandfather’s men is currently heading in this direction.”

“You go,” Talia says. “I have several things I need to discuss with your grandfather.”

“Mother,” Damian starts to protest, but Dick catches Talia’s eyes, and sees in them a shadow of the woman from before. She has business with Ra’s, alright, and it almost certainly involves Damian.

Dick nods at Talia. Whatever discussion she would have with her father, Dick wants Damian nowhere near it. And it’s clear that Talia doesn’t want her son near it too. 

“Come on, Dami,” he says to Damian, who look between them as if he could not decide who he wants to follow. “Let’s go.” 

“Go,” Talia tilts her head towards the door. “I will see you later, habibi.” 

Still reluctant, but finally acquescing to the unspoken demand, Damian nods. Then, he walks to the door, half-pulling, half-hindering Dick with him. Dick takes charge, then, changing his grip of Damian so that he is the one leading. 

But, as they walk out the door, Dick turns back, and he meets Talia’s eyes. She looks back, and in that one moment, the two of them understood each other perfectly. 

#damianwayneweek #damianwayneweek2021 #dc #dick grayson #damian wayne #talia al ghul #lian writes

[dato-potato]

The Lost Son pt. 5

How about that, another part. AU where Talia leaves Damian in an orphanage when he’s five. Bruce and Damian don’t know about the other.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

——————————

Bruce continued to stare at the paper, “Master Bruce, do you perhaps recall your partners from thirteen years ago?” Alfred asked carefully.

Bruce thought for a moment before shaking his head. “I can’t think of anyone who I had relations with that wouldn’t have said something, anything,” as the past day’s events returned to him, his blood began to boil, “Or anyone who would do something like that to a child.”

Alfred turned curiously to Bruce, “I beg your pardon, sir, but what exactly is that?”

Bruce sighed heavily, rubbing his face roughly with his hands. “He had scars, Alfred.” the butler stared incredulously, “He had so many scars… When I asked him about it, he told me his mother had given them to him.”

When Bruce finally looked up at Alfred, the poor man was in complete shock. “Why?” Alfred asked simply.

Bruce shook his head. “The boy said it was from training.”

“Training?” the butler repeated, appalled.

Bruce looked down at the paper again, as if the answers to their question would suddenly appear. His thoughts were a whirlpool, rushing around him as he tried to grasp at them, trying to figure out who this boy was and where he came from. 

“What do you suggest we do now, sir?” Alfred asked softly, pulling Bruce’s attention back.

Bruce tossed the paper in front of him, considering Alfred’s question. What would be the best course of action? Should he wait and investigate further into the boy’s history before he says anything? Did Damian even know that he was his father? Bruce took a deep breath. “I’ve no clue. Do you think the boy knows? That I’m his father?”

Alfred thought for a moment before shaking his head, “No, sir. I don’t believe he does. He’s said before he doesn’t know who his father is and I don’t believe he was lying.”

They were both silent for a long moment, both considering the situation, but neither one able to make any sense of it. “I just don’t get it. He’s using a fake name, whether he’s using it knowing it’s fake isn’t clear, but he obviously knows who his mother is,” Bruce paused, contemplating for a moment. “Is he afraid of getting her in trouble?” Bruce continued to speak his thoughts aloud, hoping something might stick out that could point them in the right direction.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred spoke hesitantly, catching Bruce’s attention, “I don’t think he’s worried about getting his mother in trouble, he told me she has already died.”

Bruce waved his hands out in front of himself, the exhaustion from the day finally catching up with him. “Then what? Why not tell someone?”

Alfred set his lips in a thin line, “What if the boy’s not afraid of his mother getting in trouble, but instead he’s afraid of getting himself into trouble?”

Bruce let that ruminate, looking back at the abandoned document in front of him before closing his eyes in an attempt to concentrate. He tried to think of what Damian, a child, could have done that would get him in any type of trouble. Nothing was coming up, draining Bruce even more as he did his best to keep his mind focused.

Alfred huffed, Bruce raised a tired brow up at the man, keeping his eyes closed. “But honestly, sir,” Bruce opened his eyes and looked up at the older man, “did you really have no idea that he was your son? None at all?”

Bruce furrowed his brows, “Of course not, if I had I would’ve said or done something. Besides, how was I supposed to know?”

Alfred raised a judgemental eyebrow. “Honestly, Master Bruce, and you call yourself the world’s greatest detective.”

——————————

It had been a week since Damian had gotten into trouble with the two meatheads from Mrs. Williams’ store, giving Damian some time to recover from the concussion they gave him. Or rather, Damian was forced to stay on bed rest for a week, minimum, or else Janet was going to restrain him and put an ankle monitor on him. He had no choice but to concede, allowing mostly Janet and Aurora to care for him, which they both thoroughly enjoyed. Damian, however, found it utterly excruciating. Or at least, that’s what he told them every chance he got.

After the one week, Damian was finally allowed out of bed, with the exception that he remain in the house at all times. The kids had just been put to bed, Damian started the kettle to boil some water.

“Making some tea, kiddo?” Janet asked as she slumped into one of the wooden chairs.

“Yeah, you want any?” Damian offered, glancing behind him to Janet.

She thought for a moment and then nodded, “But make sure it’s—”

“Sweet?” Damian finished, flashing a cheeky smile at the older woman.

Janet chuckled, “You know me so well.”

Damian nodded, adding an ungodly amount of sugar to her tea. He set it down in front of Janet and she took a long sip, humming her satisfaction. Damian sat down across from her, fidgeting in his seat. Janet raised an eyebrow at him, “So?”

Damian pursed his lips and looked away from Janet, idly fiddling with the mug in front of him. His heart was racing and he did his best to calm it with a deep breath. “So, I was thinking we should talk.”

Janet took another sip, waiting for Damian to continue. When he didn’t, she rolled her eyes, “Well, go on then.”

Damian cleared his throat, “Right.” His throat seemed to immediately seize up and dry out, a lump forming that he tried to desperately swallow down. Janet was beginning to look more concerned than the mild annoyance she wore before.

Janet reached out her hand to grasp Damian’s, attempting to comfort him. “Damian, what’s wrong? You’re shaking like a leaf, child.”

Damian didn’t like how tight his chest felt, it felt as if it was trying to collapse in on itself. He couldn’t breathe properly but forced himself on, this is exactly the type of thing that had been drilled into him since birth. He grasped Janet’s hand back. “I just, I wanted you to know, I didn’t want you to find out from someone else. If anyone should know, it’s you,” he said, but it was more for himself, a poor attempt at convincing himself that this was what he should do. Janet had more than earned it through their years together.

Janet’s lips twitched in a nervous smile when Damian didn’t elaborate further. “You’re making me anxious here, dear.”

Damian nodded, he was making himself feel anxious as well, that’s what that feeling was: anxiety. Ridiculous, he was trained since birth to become the perfect assassin, the perfect fighter, the perfect leader, and here he was, getting anxious over this? Damian couldn’t stop the dry, humourless laugh that escaped.

“Damian, my boy,” Janet smoothed her other hand over Damian’s that still held hers, “Whatever it is, it’s ok. You don’t need to tell me if it’s making you so worked up. You’re still recovering, can’t have you back on bed rest, Rory won’t leave you alone,” she tried to joke in order to lighten the tension.

He considered her offer for a moment but then shook his head, taking his hand out of her grasp and placing it in his lap. He felt jittery from the adrenaline now coursing through him and he hoped it would give him the courage he needed. “No,” he said firmly, voice no longer shaking, “I want you to know.”

Janet took her hands back as well, her face was still riddled with concern, but she kept it to herself as she sent Damian a small, reassuring smile and nodded. 

Damian took a deep breath, steeling himself, “I wanted to tell you about my mother,” Damian said, his entire being letting out a massive breath. Like even just the act of saying he was going to tell her was enough, though, he knew that wasn’t the case. 

Janet nodded solemnly, preparing for whatever he would tell her. “My real name is Damian al Ghul,” Damian watched Janet’s face carefully, searching for something. What he was trying to find, he didn’t know. He watched as the more time that passed, the more confused Janet looked and Damian berated himself. Why did he assume Janet would know who the al Ghul’s were, what they did? 

Damian sighed softly, hands fiddling restlessly in his lap. “My mother was Talia al Ghul, daughter of Ra’s al Ghul, who was the leader of a very,” Damian paused, worrying his bottom lip in his teeth, trying to figure out the best way to say it. His heart picked up its pace, hammering inside his chest and Damian briefly considered that Janet could probably hear it too. “It’s a very dangerous organization.”

When Janet didn’t respond, Damian tried again, rubbing a hand down his face. “Janet,” the lump was back in his throat, attempting to stop him from saying anything more. Damian distantly wondered if that was some type of defence mechanism the League implemented on all members so no one could talk about it. He shook his head, ridding himself of such useless thoughts and focusing in front of him on the table before raising his gaze to Janet. “You do know I’m not exactly a normal child, right?”

Janet scoffed, her concern faltering for a moment, comforting Damian in an odd way. “Child, how many others have you seen come through this house? Out of the oddest of odd kids that have come here, you are by far the most abnormal.”

Damian chuckled softly at that, his breathing and heart rate slowing slightly with the feeling of normalcy, the feeling of home that Janet exuded. “Right. Well, there’s a reason for that. I was trained since I was young to succeed my grandfather as the head of this group,” Janet nodded and he continued, “I was taught a wide range of things, from general studies, to advanced studies, to more… unpleasant things.”

Janet raised her brows, seeming to understand the meaning of Damian’s words. “What do you mean by unpleasant, Damian?”

Damian closed his eyes for a moment before focusing back on Janet. He let himself worry, if only for one moment, that Janet may not accept him after this. That she might even go so far as calling the police and tell them what he’d said and he’d either be arrested or sent to Arkham Asylum. If she didn’t want him around anymore, he’d deal with that, he could get by on his own. Probably. 

“I was taught how to hurt people, in the worst and most permanent ways.”

Janet took that in, sipping thoughtfully at her tea. Damian couldn’t hold her gaze any longer, his anxieties getting to him, she didn’t want him around her or the children anymore, she knew and she was going to kick him out for good. He thought about how much time he had, what he could fit into his backpack before the cops or whoever else Janet would call got there. Rory’s smiling face crossed his mind, making him wince. He probably wouldn’t have time to say goodbye to her. Would she be upset? Surely she would, she’d probably kick up a fuss and go out on her own to find him. A small smile fought its way to Damian’s lips at the thought of her.

“All right,” Janet spoke clearly, no hesitation in her voice, dragging Damian back from his thoughts of running.

Damian felt like he had whiplash from how quickly his head snapped up to search her face. “All right?”

Janet nodded, “Yeah. That was before, right?” she asked and Damian nodded his head slowly, still trying to wrap his head around her words. Janet nodded back, a smile growing on her face. “Good. And you don’t plan on going back there, do you?” Damian shook his head. There was no way he’d ever go back. “Then we’re fine.”

Damian just breathed for a long minute as Janet took a sip at her quickly cooling tea.

“You’re just, fine? With me?” Damian spoke quietly, surprising Janet and himself with how small and young he sounded. “You’re just accepting the things I’ve done, things you don’t even truly understand?”

Janet set her mug down and sighed gently, “Damian,” she started, as if he were a small child who couldn’t understand why the sky was blue or why one plus one equals two. “You have no intention of harming the children, do you?”

“Of course not,” Damian said, a little more harshly than he meant, but he was a bit offended she would even ask if he’d ever hurt them.

Janet only smiled triumphantly and picked up her tea. “Exactly.” Damian stared wide-eyed at the old woman. “Damian, you are not who you were when you were with your mother. You are not who you were when you first began living here, hell, you aren’t even who you were a few months ago.”

Damian felt his entire body relax, releasing a tension he wasn’t even aware he had as his eyes searched for a hint of doubt in Janet. When he couldn’t find it, he looked around the room, for what, he wasn’t sure, but he had no idea what else to do. 

Janet chuckled and then smiled tenderly at him, her eyes softening and taking Damian’s hand back in her own. “My child, you are an astonishing young man who has been through so much more than most people three, four times your own age. It’s all right. I’m very happy you’ve decided to share this with me, but it doesn’t change who you are in the now, who you were before is not an issue.”

Damian was stunned into silence, words completely abandoning him as Janet rose from her seat to make her way around the table. She pulled Damian’s arms up and he obeyed, standing facing her and Janet pulled him to her in a tight hug. He had been hugged by Janet before, but that was different. That was the type of hug a mother gives, the type of hug Damian had never received. His heart seemed to drop as he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as he wrapped his arms around Janet.

“You silly, stupid boy,” Janet sniffled, “You’ve never been whatever you thought you are, whatever you’ve managed to convince yourself you are, never,” Janet brought her hands up to his head to move him back so she could look at him, “You have something great within you, something no one could ever teach or take away from you, and it drives you to be great, to be good.”

Damian felt like his entire body began to shut down, everything malfunctioning as this woman in front of him, who he had come to think of as a sort of mother figure, told him every single thing he had yearned to hear for so long but had long abandoned any hope of actually hearing.

Janet laughed wetly, tears flowing like steady streams down her face, “For how much you boast that you’re some sorta boy genius, you sure look dumbfounded now.”

Damian couldn’t do anything more than stare at Janet and ask why, why hadn’t he been given a mother like her? Someone who would love him unconditionally, no matter what. No matter how he was raised and what he was told was right and wrong, no matter what kind of monster he had convinced himself he was.

“Thank you,” he whispered as Janet tugged him into another hug which he gladly accepted.

Damian took his now abandoned tea to the sink, Janet close behind with her own mug. She stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, wiping a stray tear away as she spoke, “So you lived with your mother until you came here?”

Damian nodded, hesitantly, still unsure if he wanted Janet knowing everything. “Yes. Well, for the most part. I was training all the time so I didn’t see too much of her outside of that.”

Janet hummed. “And your father?”

Damian’s gaze found the floor. “I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t know. Mother said she’d tell me when the time was right, when I was ready, but she died before the time came.”

Janet stood still for another moment and then shooed Damian out of the kitchen before he could wash their dishes, chiding him for stressing himself while he’s supposed to be recovering.

Damian felt impossibly light like he was about to float away, into the night if he opened his window too much. It felt strange, but it felt like something he could get used to. Damian smiled softly to himself as he climbed into bed, closing his eyes and for once, feeling only peace as he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

——————————

Aurora yawned as she stepped carefully down the stairs, seeing the light still on in the dining room, and heading towards it. She scrunched her nose as she stepped off the last stair, her throat feeling impossibly dry. Before she could round the corner and ask Janet for a glass of water, the voices stopped her in her tracks.

The voices were hushed as if speaking about secrets that could only be told during the night like she did with her stuffed giraffe, Giraffery. Aurora could tell that it was Dami and Janet talking, though about what exactly, she didn’t quite catch. She caught one or two words, here and there. One thing stuck out to her.

“My mother was Talia al Ghul,” she heard Dami say and Aurora felt like she had been punched in the gut. Dami had never told anyone about his mother or father, or anything from before. Aurora had asked on multiple occasions, trying to catch him off guard so he might let something slip, but she had never succeeded. Why was he talking about his mother now? Was he going back? Would he leave her? 

Aurora’s feet shuffled backwards, the only sound she could hear was her own heartbeat and the rush of blood in her ears. Dami couldn’t leave, he wouldn’t, right? They weren’t related but he was still her big brother, he wasn’t allowed to leave her, just like she would never leave him. She had to stay with Dami. If Aurora ever left, he would always come to find her, just like he had that one time with the bad guys.

If Dami left, Aurora would find him too, even if he was taken by bad guys, she’d... she’d fight them off and protect him, just like he had done. She could do it, Dami made sure she knew how to protect herself if anything happened. Aurora just needed Dami to stay. That’s where they both belonged, together with Janet and Giraffery. They were a family, and families stick together. 

Aurora had made it back to her room and slipped back into bed, hugging Giraffery as she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to sleep, forgetting all about her thirst. 

——————————

Janet walked about in the kitchen gathering the various ingredients she needed for pancakes. She figured after the emotional night she and Damian had last night, it’d be nice to have some of her special cinnamon pancakes Damian had grown to like. She smiled to herself at the thought of the boy. He had been so closed off when he had arrived on her doorstep, like he was unaffected by anything, showing little to no emotion.

The first night he was there, she had given him clothes to sleep in and that was the first time she had seen such scars, on anyone. He was so young, yet it was glaringly obvious that the poor child had suffered greatly. Janet hadn’t known what to do for the first while, he didn’t play with the kids, and when they had managed to convince him to join, he didn’t know any games. He tended to drift off to the sidelines, watching them play as he pretended to read, but kept watch as if to keep them safe from something. After their talk, she supposed that may not have been too far off. 

Hearing what Damian told her the previous night had been a shocker but it wasn’t as if she hadn’t made guesses as to his past, she just never thought he’d ever be open to talking about it. She was fine with that too, if he didn’t want to talk about it, she would support him for as long as he stayed with her. Through the time he had spent at the orphanage in Janet’s care, he’d grown into a fine young man. One that Janet was more than proud to call her own, even if it was only as his temporary guardian. She only wished for Damian to continue to grow and find his happiness, perhaps even finally accept someone’s proposal for adoption.

The phone rang, forcing Janet back to the present as she checked the analog clock. It was still early, none of the kids had woken up yet. She cautiously made her way over to the phone, picking it up off the hook and placing it on her shoulder to continue stirring the pancake batter, “Hello? This is Happy Home Orphanage, Janet speaking.”

“Good morning, Mrs. Norwell,” the voice sounded familiar but she couldn’t immediately place who it was, “my apologies for calling so early in the morning, it’s Alfred Pennyworth of the Wayne household.”

Janet paused stirring the batter as she switched the phone to her other ear, her brows furrowing. “Yes, of course, Mr. Pennyworth, what can I do for you this morning?”

“Master Bruce wanted to request an appointment,” the old man stated, leaving no room for debate.

Janet thought for a moment and then returned to stirring, “Right, well I will let Damian know when he gets up and I’ll have him call you right back,” she spoke in the same tone as he had, letting the butler know she wouldn’t set the boy up without his consent. Damian was weird enough around the billionaire, she wouldn’t force him to meet with the man if Damian hated it that much, whether he happened to sponsor their orphanage or not didn’t matter, her kids were her top priority. 

The butler cleared his throat on the other end of the line before Janet had prepared herself to hang up on him. “He requested to meet with you, Mrs. Norwell, without the young sir.”

Janet stopped stirring again. “Mr. Wayne requested to meet with me. Just me,” she stated more than asked him.

“That is correct.”

Janet considered asking the butler why but ultimately decided against it. “All right, Damian will be out of the house this afternoon, please tell Mr. Wayne he’s welcome to stop by then.” Without waiting for a response from the butler, Janet hung the phone back up and stared into the batter before taking a deep breath and calming her racing heart.

She wasn’t sure exactly how she was going to handle the meeting, it all depended on what Mr. Wayne wanted.

—————————— 

After breakfast, the kids took off to the playroom, arguing who got the first turn with which toy. Aurora had been acting weird since the morning, sticking even closer to Damian than she usually did, and after eating, she excused herself from the table to go up to her room. 

Damian stepped into the kitchen, carrying the dishes from the table to the sink. He tried to be as unassuming as possible, knowing if Janet noticed him doing things, she’d tell him to go rest even though he was pretty much completely healed. Janet sighed as she looked out of the window by the sink.

“What’s wrong?” Damian asked and Janet smiled kindly at him before raising an eyebrow at the dishes he was carrying.

Janet sighed and shook her head, still smiling. “Was it just me or was Aurora acting a bit weird?”

Damian pursed his lips and nodded, placing the dishes in the sink. “It’s not just you.”

Janet nodded and sighed again, clearly that wasn’t all she had been thinking about. 

“Did you want to take the kids to the park in the afternoon?” She asked finally.

Damian grinned back at her, “You want me to take them to the park? I can go outside?”

She rolled her eyes and shoved him out of the way of the sink, “Yes, so don’t make me regret it.”

Damian nodded and headed up the stairs. He made his way to Aurora’s room, knocking softly on the door and waiting. When there was no answer, he carefully pushed the door open.

“Hey, Rory,” Damian spoke softly to the small girl who looked up at him with her round, brown eyes. “Did you want to come with me and the others to the park?”

She looked away for a moment and then shook her head, focusing back on the book she had in front of her. It was easy to forget that she was growing up, already reading and writing. 

Damian sat carefully on the edge of her bed, placing his hand on her forehead, “Are you ok, little one?” He asked her gently. “You seem a bit out of it.”

Aurora shook her head again, “’m fine. Just a stomach ache.”

Damian nodded, not totally convinced, but understanding she clearly wanted to spend some time alone. He stood from her bed, “All right, well, the offer still stands. We’ll be leaving after lunch.”

——————————

Damian told Janet that Aurora wasn’t feeling well and would likely be staying home that afternoon. Janet nodded and said she’d get Grace to bring up some stomach medicine to her. 

After lunch, Damian slipped his shoes on and guided the kids to the park with Grace who did indeed still work at the orphanage, but only on some weekends since the decrease in kids. Between that, and Damian helping out, the need to employ others to help out dwindled and Janet only ended up keeping Grace for a few weekends. 

The kids waved goodbye to Janet as she waved back, waiting until they were out of sight before returning inside and putting the kettle on as she waited.

Not ten minutes later, a sleek black car pulled up to the orphanage, Janet taking a deep breath as she opened the door and prepared for Bruce Wayne.

——————————

sorry if this one wasn’t as exciting or anything. 

Also if anyone is wondering, Grace isn’t as old as Janet (who’s in her mid to late 50′s by the way, I don’t think I’ve mentioned that yet...) but she’s in her late 40′s and was a good friend to Janet when she lost her husband. I actually have quite a bit of background for Janet and Aurora and some small points for some other smaller characters but they haven’t fit into the story as of yet and I didn’t want to force it in. Anyway, if anyone’s curious about any of the characters, feel free to comment or something and I will 100% be there to answer.

Thanks again for reading <3

#damian wayne #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #fanfic #batman #batfam #batfamily #its getting serious now #sorry if its bad #my fic

[miss-choco-chips]

Brother

The journey from Vodka Aunt to Wine Mom starts with Scottish coffee.

Or, Nicole totally thought this through, shut up Janet.

----.----

Nicole had believed -she had believed it would be… not easy, but easier than it had been, for Janet. She had been blindsided, after all, and completely out of her depth. Nicole, as she was now, had a good amount of practice under her belt- almost thirteen years of it. She shouldn’t be as clumsy about this as Jan had been, those first few weeks of Tim’s life.

In any other world, she would have been indifferent to the wounds, the verbal abuse, the disdain and blatant use of an innocent and manipulable mind. But here, now, she had been an aunt- a godmother, for almost thirteen years. Maybe it was Timmy’s kindness, absorbed into her bones via osmosis, maybe it was the maternal instinct Janet sometimes complained took over her life at irregular intervals to make her a better mother, maybe it was because he reminded her so much of her godson… but she just couldn’t stand it.

So she gathered her resources, called in a couple favors, took the child and disappeared into the night. That part was easy; Talia might be stronger, physically speaking, but Nicole’s mind could moon-walk circles around hers all day long.

But, what now? Back in Gotham as per her plan, where Talia couldn’t just waltz in and do as she wished without an angry bat breathing down her neck, but totally fucking lost as to what her next steps should be.

So she goes to Janet. If years of friendship aren’t enough to get her to help, she could always remind her of how it was thanks to Nicole’s contacts that she got Shiva as Tim’s self-defense teacher.

The bitch owes her.

----.----

Tim isn’t worried, exactly, when aunt Nicole power-walks into the tea room where mother and son are having breakfast -much more cozy than the dining room- and smiles tersely, asking if she could have a word with Janet. 

He is, though, when she asks him to leave the room. Because never before has Nicole cared that Tim heard what she talked with mom, be it a complain about some mutual acquaintance or some confidential information from one of her cases.

He leaves, of course, because he respects her enough, but sends one not-actually-scared -but-close-enough look at his mother on the way out.

The second the door is closed, he can hear Nicole blurting something out, and the deafening sound of a teacup crashing into the floor. He rushes his steps, stopping by his room to grab his camera before going outside. He doesn’t want to be there for the fall out, if mom’s initial reaction was to lose her grip on her cup. Maybe he should call uncle Lex, get a little vacation outside the city (and line of fire).

He’s entertaining the thoughts of asking for a lift via Lex Corp special jet towards Paris vs Japan, when he sees the kid sitting under his favorite tree.

He approaches, curious and tentative, and the kid looks up to him when he gets within arm distance (doesn’t look surprised, like he knew Tim was there all along). The moment he sees him clearly, though, Tim freezes.

The shape of his eyes. The color of his hair. The ears, the contorn of the face, the scowl. His skin might be tanner, and his irises a different tint, but he looks at the kid for less than a second and knows, without a doubt, that he’s looking at Bruce Wayne’s son. 

His heart might have stopped, but the mind is a wonderful thing that never stops working, and the next order of business is figuring out who the mother is. He remembers Nicole’s tight face, her venomous green eyes almost equal to this kid’s, and… Yeah, okay, so this is also Talia Al Ghul’s spawn. What the hell was Bruce thinking? Does Dick know? Does Bruce know?

-Stop looking at me like a buffon, or I’ll have your eyes removed -speaks up the kid, and Tim’s mind reminds him that, yeah, he isn’t looking at a picture, but a real, breathing human being. A six-or-seven year old being, despite his speech.

Manners kicking to the forefront of his head, he crouches down in front of the kid, camera dangling from his neck, all but forgotten by its owner for maybe the first time ever.

-Hey there. My name is Timothy Drake -he smiles, hand offered with kindness, but eyes sharp as he keeps on inspecting the face in front of his. That, and his name, seems to immediately change the kid’s opinion of him, because his eyes widen and he’s quick to return the greeting.

Aunt Nicole must have said something to him about Tim and his special position as Janet Drake’s son, because when the kid shakes his hand (calloused, with more than one scar, probably more used at handling a weapon than Tim is going to be at the end of his life), he’s being almost comically careful about it, as if he’s unsure about how much to squeeze or shake without hurting him. Nicole probably stressed into him about Tim being delicate and how he should handle him with care, which, bullshit, he’s not a baby anymore, not like this kid.

-I see. I’ve heard about you a lot from Aunt during my travels here. My name is Ibn al Xu’ffasch.

Tim blinks twice, smile firmly in place, hand holding lightly into the kid’s. There’s something ridiculous about Bruce’s kid literally being called ‘Son of the bat’.

-...my other name is Damian, Damian Al Ghul.

-I see. Which one do you prefer? 

This seems to baffle the kid, though he recovers quickly. Has anyone ever asked him for his preference on something as personal as his name?- You may address me as Damian.

-Okay then, Damian. I was going to go around the property for a walk, take some picture of animals. Why don’t you come with me? You can also tell me a little about yourself. With Nicole as your Aunt, we are sure to meet often.

----.----

-So you just… took the kid and ran.

-No, I had a well thought plan. And I didn’t ran. That’s undignified.

-Really, now.

-I couldn’t just leave him, Jan. He’s six.

-He’s a genetically engineered baby trained since birth by your psychotic sister in how to be a perfect killing machine. Excuse me if I think he can handle himself. But whatever, what’s done is done. What are you going to do now?

-I… I kinda hoped you’d tell me. 

-...I’ll tell the butler to prepare refreshments. This is going to be a long talk.

-Vodka?

-It’s nine in the morning, you unclassy fool. We are having Scottish coffee. Besides, you acquired a child, you can’t be the vodka aunt any longer. If anything, be the wine mom.

-No, I’m not adopting this kid. Rip to Bruce, but I’m not like him.

-Well, I’m not doing it for you either.

-I’m not asking that! I plan on giving him to his dad to look after, but he’s too…

-Murderous?

-...yeah, that. I’m going to try to ease him into normal society as much as I can before calling Wayne, to prevent a full blown out culture shock.

-This is Gotham, dear. You want normal society, go to Metropolis. But sure, I’ll help you with this. You might have to move into the Manor for a few weeks, though. Also, you are lucky Tim is on break right now, his innate kindness might help in this. But if your demonic nephew touches a single hair in Tim’s head, I’m throwing him to the sharks.

-Are you talking about reporters, the League of Assassins, or actual sharks?

-Yes.

----.----

Tim snaps a quick pic when the kid isn’t looking, because this is precious. 

Damian had been a proud little prick at first, refusing to show the interest shining in his eyes towards the multiple animals Tim introduced him to. But by the time they left behind the horse (the one Lex gave him on his tenth birthday), birds and fishes on the property’s pond, and moved into Tim’s pets, he had left his facade behind and did his best to pet every animal at the same time. He couldn’t, of course, didn’t have enough hands for all two cats, the dog and the bunny, but by god he tried. 

Sel, the female cat, had taken residence on the kid’s shoulders, lounging there like an Empress, judging them all from above (or as above as she could be, perched on such a small kid that was sitting down to boot). Her partner in crime and life, Alley, rubbed his head under Tim’s chin, comfortable in his human’s arms. 

Then, Max, his Golden Retriever dog. He was a sweetheart, and had charmed Damian in less than a minute, greeting him with enthusiastic licks at his hands and a furiously quick tail moving side to side. Damian had been blindsided by the utter cuteness of the dog immediately falling in love with him, and had responded in kind, dedicating almost half an hour to dote on him alone.

Now, almost two hours after meeting the kid, Tim couldn’t help but snap another picture of Damian, sitting on the ground in front of Tim, one hand petting Max who had laid by his side, the other one carefully stroking Butter the Bunny’s head while he rests on his lap. Sel occasionally nudges her head against his cheek to demand for attention, that he gladly provides, and everything seems out of a Disney movie.

He knows this kid is dangerous. Because he is Nicole’s relative, because his eyes are always scanning their surroundings for threats, because his hand is the hand of a warrior. 

But he looks up at Tim when Sel gives a tiny lick to his check, looking as if he’d been blessed by the Kitten Gods and needs guidance on the appropriate response, and Tim thinks he could overlook the danger. God knows everyone is afraid of Mom, and that doesn’t stop Tim from kissing her cheek and hugging her at least once per day. 

This kid deserves love, too, and he always wanted a sibling.

#janet drake #Janet drake au #Janet Drake is a scary lady #Nicole Al Ghul (oc) #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #My writing #No edit people #I'm bored and procastinating

[bluboothalassophile]

Give Me Back My Mind!

The World’s Most Wanted Bat and Bird

The plane landed in Gotham, Kori slipped on the image inducer as he took her hand. All the image inducer did was turn her skin from the fiery orange to a deep, dark, rich chocolate color, and hid her flaming mass of hair as black mass of tight curls, and give her eyes a human look; still green, other than that, she looked like Kori. However, he preferred her glowing green eyes and dark gold skin.

“Master Dick,” Alfred greeted him on the tarmac.

“Hey Alfie, Kori, Alfred Pennyworth,” Dick said as he properly introduced them. The first meeting between them had been… shocking. Alfred had shown up at the Tower unannounced; Kori had thought he was an intruder, Raven had been so alarmed and Cyborg had gone on the defense. All this because Dick had called and asked Alfred for his soup recipe since he was about to die of soy food over dosing. Alfred of course had been unfazed by their antics and walked in to clean the tower top to bottom, the entire time he scolded them for their poor living conditions. Alfred had really hit it off with Raven, unsurprisingly, and Kori had liked Alfred but he sort of scared her.

“And it is lovely to see you again, Princess Kori,” Alfred smiled slightly at her.

“It is kind of you to welcome me into your home for food,” Kori smiled nervously.

“You are always welcomed,” Alfred assured her. Dick didn’t counter the claim because he was going to have a serious talk with Bruce about this, after the Jason talk, and after Damian was safely back; that way there was no backfire.

“Thank Alfie,” he smiled as he climbed into the car after her. the file was like a lead weight in his hands as Kori looked around Gotham and he pointed out buildings for her. The implication of this alone! If Jason was alive he was taking on the world alone, and the knowledge of that was what scared Dick. Jason would always face the world, fists up, ready for every hit and he’d take the beating even if it knocked him on his ass, and he come back up swinging with a vengeance. Jason Todd was a fighter, he had taken life head on without fear. Dick admired that about Jason, but he also had hated it about the kid when Dick had been pulling away from Bruce. It was what made Jason so different as Robin, and in many ways, it had made that kid more dangerous than he had been.

Arriving at the Manor he helped Kori out of the car.

“He doesn’t like me,” Kori hissed as they walked.

“He will, he’s just… Bruce, just be yourself, tonight will be fine,” he said.

“Heyya squirt!” he looked up when he saw the black hair, green eyed woman open the door with a smile, he smiled back reflexively.

“I’m not a squirt anymore,” he pointed out as he wrapped Selina up in a firm hug and spun her around. He’d always loved Selina, she was the best woman for Bruce, she made Bruce human. She also had adored him and all his brothers, and she was pretty kick ass. Unlike Talia, who had twisted Damian up and openly held disgust for him and his brothers.

“So, do I get a little brother, again?” he asked as he set her down and they walked into the Manor, the door shutting behind them as Kori and Alfred followed.

“Ugh, boys, boys, boys, what’s wrong with a girl?” Selina huffed.

“Nothing, girls are kick ass too, I just know how to handle brothers,” Dick pointed out.

“Well it’s going to be a surprise. I’ve asked my doctor not to put it in my file in case Bruce decides to cheat and hack the hospital records, or steal the paper copies,” Selina stated smugly.

“Rats,” Dick muttered dramatically. There was a curious sound and Dick remembered Kori had never met Selina. “Ah, Selina, this is my girlfriend, Koriand’r, Princess of Tameran, Kori, Selina Kyle, Catwoman.”

“Catwoman! I am a huge fan!” Kori exclaimed then as she flew forward. “My people are descendants of feline-like creatures!”

“Wow,” Selina smiled genuinely as she walked with Kori and they chatted.

“Where is he Alfred?” Dick asked.

“He is in the basement,” Alfred said.

“Um…” Dick started. “I… it’ll be better to talk to the two of you at once rather than have the talk twice.”

“Of course, the ladies can also accompany us if they wish.”

“No, leave them until dinner, best it’s just the three of us,” Dick admitted as he walked towards the grandfather clock.

“Very well, Master Dick, I will settle the ladies with a snack before dinner,” Alfred said and Dick nodded as he stepped into the small elevator and zipped down to the Cave. Now, he’d always liked the cave, it was always being built on, improved, and changed, it was nice and constant and safe; very safe. Not even the White House held the security of the Cave.

“Hey Bruce,” he smiled nervously as he walked over to where Bruce was working.

“You’re early,” Bruce turned and looked at him then.

“Yeah, jet moved faster than anticipated. Look, Bruce, I… we don’t know what this is. But I’d like for you to have an open mind about it, because… you’ll see. Victor found the intel, so I trust the source,” he said and he handed over the file Victor had given him. “No, I didn’t run it by Oracle first, I felt you needed to see this first.”

Bruce said nothing, Dick took a seat and waited as Bruce read over the file. It was the marginal widening of his eyes and the paling of his face which told Dick that he was shocked.

“Jason…” Bruce breathed.

“Look, I know… I know he’s dead, I get that, but what if he isn’t?”

“Jason died,” Bruce stated.

“Bruce…”

“No! I was there!” Bruce snapped.

“What?” Dick stiffened. From what he knew of Jason’s death Bruce had been an hour late, the warehouse nothing but burning rubble and Jason dead.

“Jason… he came back to life; I don’t know how, but he was the Red Hood when he came back,” Bruce started softly. “I was… surprised, to say the least. But he died again, and… it was my fault.”

“Jason was the Red Hood?” Dick murmured.

Bruce nodded.

“And you didn’t think to tell me!?” Dick roared as he surged to his feet.

“Tell you what?” Bruce shouted. “I figured it out an hour before he died again!”

“What happened? Exactly?”

“He had kidnapped Joker, beaten him with a crowbar, and wired up a building to blow. After months of trying to figure out who the Red Hood was, and that lead came in, I made it there and he wasn’t wearing his helmet. Just shouted at me to choose, it was him or the Joker, I would not be able to save them both,” Bruce said softly.

“And you picked the Joker,” Dick whispered in horror.

“No! I picked to save Jason from himself, I was going to sedate him and drag him out of there after I got the Joker out because the Joker was agitating him so much. But… I don’t know, he must have known that’s what I’d do, I threw a batarang at his hand, I’d already cut him, and he said he’d known I’d never have the courage to do what was really needed to stop the Joker. I was barely out when the building blew,” Bruce murmured. Dick stared at his foster father in horror, there were tears in Bruce’s eyes. “He died again, best I could figure his body had been so close to the point of detonation he’d have been turned to ash. There was organic material found on the site, but I never found his body.”

“You picked the Joker,” Dick murmured.

“No,” Bruce said. “I nearly killed him after the explosion but I couldn’t, not again.”

“Fuck Bruce,” Dick muttered as he collapsed in his chair.

“Jason Todd is dead,” Bruce stated firmly.

“No, you don’t get to do this Bruce, no, Jason is not stupid enough to die in an explosion a second time, and now I’m willing to up the odds from almost eighty-seven percent to ninety-five,” Dick spat out. he was furious on Jason’s behalf for Bruce’s choice. “You picked the Joker, well here’s a chance to save your son again, and you will pick Jason or I will because we are not failing him again.”

“Dick, he’s dead.”

“Read over the fucking file and then decide. And whoever the hell this guy is, even if he’s not Jason, he’s got two of the world’s deadliest assassins after him; Deathstroke and Talia, and you will not fail him,” Dick warned lowly.

“Now, Master Dick, what is the matter you wish to speak to Master Bruce and I about?” Alfred said as he walked into the cave.

“Jason’s alive, and Bruce and I are going to find him,” Dick said coldly. Alfred had been closest to Jason, Dick knew that. Jason had wanted to learn to cook, Jason had loved hanging out in the kitchens with Alfred, Jason was probably Alfred’s favorite of all them. Dick remembered the scolding’s he’d received from Alfred about being cleaner, or more organized like Jason, and it had made Dick resent Jason at the time. Later, the first time he’d set foot in Jason’s room after he’d been informed of Jason’s death, he hadn’t believed it and marched right up to Jason’s room expecting a ‘just kidding’ from the kid, but there was no one there. He had cried because he wanted to know his little brother, and now Jason was alive…

Dick would not be losing his baby brother again.

“What?”

“Yeah, and the League of Assassins is after him, and we’re going to find him,” Dick warned lowly.

“A-Are you certain it’s him?” Alfred asked in a tight voice.

“Well after Bruce’s story about the Red Hood the odds went from almost eighty-seven percent to ninety-five percent in my book, Jason’s too smart to die in a bomb of his own design,” Dick warned lowly. “I don’t care what he’s done, or who he killed Bruce, and if you even think of capturing him to turn him over I will find him and help him hide from you.”

“He’s killed…” Bruce started and Dick glared at him. He knew all about the Red Hood take over, it was organized crime’s worst nightmare, and the worst part of all of it was that he’d actually dropped the crime rate significantly. The people of Crime Alley adored him, and there was even a mural of him there. Red Hood had been a nightmare, a real fucking nightmare, but he’d done some good too.

“Bruce, I don’t care what he’s done. I want my brother back,” Dick stated. “And I have a say in this because he’s my brother, and I might have been a shitty brother to him the first time, but he deserves to come home and be with us, we’re his family.”

“Can I see the photo,” Alfred asked softly and Dick pulled it from the file and for a long time he just stared at the blurred image.

“He grew into his shoulders,” Alfred murmured.

“If that’s him, yeah, yeah he did,” Dick chuckled weakly.

“It would be nice to have the young Master home if he is alive,” Alfred admitted.

“I agree,” Dick nodded. “We start in San Francisco, the intel said Jason’s also Red X, in which case he was just in San Fran to steal a book from Rae, the Book of Azarath.”

Bruce just sighed as he started looking over the intel file again and working. Dick stood up as he walked out of the Cave, he was so furious with Bruce right now he’d work in the study or he’d end up yelling at Bruce. Dick was pissed at Bruce for having to not only picking the Joker, but for never telling him that Jason was the Red Hood. If Dick had known he’d have come home from the Titans to help bring Jason home.

God, did he ever miss the stranger who had been his brother!

~~~*~*~*~~~

Timothy was many things, a fool was not one of them. He had figured out Bruce’s secret when he was nine, he’d taken up the mantel of Robin, and he’d been fighting crime since after Jason’s death. He knew something was up in the Tower. Especially since Raven, the unofficial leader of the Titans, was MIA with Damian, and Victor was running things.

He’d only been here for a few days, but it was long enough to know that even for the Titans this was not normal. Even after Dick and Kori had left the Tower to go have dinner in Gotham, he knew that there was something up. However, the rules Raven had listed rang in his head. So, before he broke all of them with an all-nighter and a lot of caffeine, he would do the polite thing and ask first as to what was going on before digging himself a grave with breaking all the rules.

There was simply no way someone would willingly travel with Damian; the demon spawn would kill them, even if they were Raven. And Tim did not care what Dick said, he sincerely doubted the evil brat was friends with Raven, the little ass didn’t like anyone aside from Dick and Alfred (but who in their right mind didn’t like Alfred!?). Walking out of his room, he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets as he walked down the stairs and looked around for Barbara, he trusted Barbara to be straight(ish) with him about what the hell was going on. But Barbara was still loyal to Bruce first, but they were coworkers for Batman so he could trust her.

“Hey Barbara,” he smiled coming upon her in the kitchen.

“Tim!? What’s up?”

“Nothing, I was just wondering where the devil’s brat and Dick went,” Tim stated.

Barbara gave him a critical eye then sighed.

“I have no idea where Damian went just that he left with Raven, the papers Raven filled out for her leave said they were going on a meditation trip to manage Damian’s anger, but their trackers were disabled and Raven used one of her portals. Since then I have not been able to track either of them, Dick said that if Raven was taking Damian to a retreat then that’s where they went, same with Victor, I was about to ask Garfield about it.

“As to Dick, he and Kori went to Gotham for dinner, Victor gave him a file I didn’t have a chance to read, and he seemed in a hurry to get to Gotham,” Barbara answered.

“And Damian hasn’t used tech?” Tim asked.

“Nothing I could trace.”

“Thanks Barbara,” Tim said as he poured himself a cup of fresh coffee.

“That will stunt your growth,” she stated.

“That’s junk science,” he retorted and left the kitchen. Something was up, and he was going to figure it out before the demon brat had a chance to kill him with whatever it was he was plotting. Making his way up to his quarters he kicked the door shut and sat on the bed as he thought his actions over before he opened the computer.

Hacking Cyborg’s systems would not be easy, however, Tim wanted to know about the file that had Dick leaving first. Then he’d run a global facial scan for Damian and Raven to find out exactly where they were and what was going on with what they were doing.

Actually, he’d run the facial rec. while he hacked. Two birds, one stone.

“Just what are you hiding?” he muttered as he got to work, his fingers flying over the keys as his eyes scanned over the code.

It was a few hours later, after a hell of a war, he managed just to get two things from a file Cyborg had guarded.

The first thing was a photo; which he’d be checking over soon, but the first was a bit of interesting intel. He recognized the code the Assassins used and sat up as he grabbed a notebook and started working out the cypher. It wasn’t easy, and his eyes were burning by the time he was finished but he just blinked at the message.

-Kill Order on Deserter/Rogue: Jason Todd

Tim clicked open the photo file, it was blurry, the man was moving, running and immediately Tim started typing furiously as he started cleaning the image up. By the time he was done he was about cross eyed, however his mouth felt unusually dry as he just stared at the photo.

Now, one could tell him he was hallucinating from too much caffeine, and he might not argue about it, but there was no denying the obvious.

Quickly he pulled up a file he’d stolen from Bruce before Bruce had erased everything about Jason Todd from the servers and stared at the photo of a young Robin. The Robin he grew up worshiping, his Robin, and then looked at the other photo. Quickly he started running the calculations and aging Jason Todd’s photos, and hypothetical growth rates, the end results had him grabbing his phone and texting the one person he knew he could trust in code.

Holy shit, Jason Todd was alive!

There was a ding on his background search for Raven and Damian, he blinked at the location. London, and his eyes widened at who was in the car driving the Charger.

Jason Todd.

Holy shit! This was huge! Shutting his laptop, he scrambled off his bed as he grabbed it and looked at Stephanie’s reply before he ran out of his room. He needed to talk to Dick and Bruce! He needed to first find Stephanie because they were going to have to get to Raven and Damian before the Assassins got to Jason. They were traveling together for reasons he didn’t know, and was now eager to find out.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Stephanie liked being out of Gotham, she was loving the freedom of not having Bruce breathing down her neck disapproving her every action, and she was pleased to be on a new team. She didn’t mind working with Damian, or the other kids, the point was she wasn’t under Bruce’s disappointing glare. And she was even tempted to go back to go back to being Spoiler. She missed the purple suit!

She growled a bit when her phone buzzed, she was getting ready for an early nap, like normal people did, and sighed seeing Tim’s number. She blinked twice at seeing the code before she figured it out and left her room to head up to the roof. She knew why they were going up to the roof, despite motion sensors, the roof was the most private place here. It wasn’t a make out spot or anything; they’d all only been here for a few days, and everyone was too busy trying to get their bearing as to be making out, but the point was the roof was quiet.

“Yeah Tim, what’s up?” she asked as she walked out, stuffing her hands in her purple hoodie’s pockets.

“You have to promise not to freak out,” he said.

“Tim, what’s up?” she sighed.

“Jason’s alive, Robin II, he’s alive, and he’s currently traveling with Raven; your Team Captain, and the demon spawn,” Tim said in a rushed tone.

“Jason’s dead Tim,” she stated calmly.

“See that’s what I thought, but look, Steph,” he pulled out his computer and was typing so fast she couldn’t see his fingers as she knelt beside him.

“This is a picture of Jason as Robin, I snagged it from Bruce, it’s one of the last before he died,” Tim said. “That this is him aged,” he showed her the aged photo. “And this is him, here,” he pulled up the surveillance photo then.

“I see the resemblance, but it doesn’t prove anything, Tim,” she pointed out.

“That’s true, but this does, it’s from the League of Assassins, it’s a hit on Jason Todd,” he stated as he pulled up a notebook and showed her the coded and decoded messages. Stephanie gaped at the message, she knew that Tim wouldn’t make this thing up, and no doubt he’d worked on this first.

“What’s Raven and Damian have to do with this?”

“That I don’t know, yet, but don’t you see, Jason’s alive!” Tim grinned.

“Yeah, and the League of Assassins is after him, he’s with Raven and the Assassin Prince,” Stephanie pointed out. She knew that Tim wasn’t overly fond of Damian, and Damian didn’t like Tim all that much either, but she also knew Bruce, Dick and the entire Bat family was working to keep Damian out of the clutches of his mother and grandfather.

“Yeah, that’s why we’re going to go get them!” Tim declared excitedly.

“Wait what!?” Stephanie blurted out.

“Yeah! I saw a jet in the hanger below! I can fly it, come on!” Tim jumped up and she sighed. They were so grounded, but she wasn’t letting Tim go alone.

“Wait up! I’m coming and I’m flying it!” she shouted after Tim.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Jaime only heard the word hanger before he was sneaking down the stairs towards the hanger. The last few days had been… hectic, Raven had disappeared, Damian too, and everything was going to hell. Now there was Tim and Stephanie talking about stealing a jet in the hanger. He was going with them because if he had to do one more training session with Terra trying to kill him he was running away. Which he didn’t want to do because he really liked Raven and Vic, also Gar was cool, even the devil’s minion was alright. Jaime would also rather deal with the devil’s spawn trying to kill him than Terra; at least with Damian it wasn’t personal it was just his first instinct.

And if Stephanie and Tim were stealing the jet he was going with them.

“HeyyaJaime!” a fast vice had him jumping as he whirled around. “Whereya going?”

“Uh…”

“Ohhh! Secretmission! CanIcome!? Please!Please!Please!” Bart pleaded.

“Look I’m ditching here and escaping Terra before she kills me!” Jaime defended.

“Iwanna go!Playing hookyisfun!” Bart bounced.

“Okay…” Jaime drawled out uncertainly.

“Someone say hooky!?” Bart grinned and he jumped when the floating Super kid just assigned to team appeared with a grin. “I’m coming!”

“What!? No!” Jaime protested.

“Sweet! TeamRaven JailBreak!” Bart declared. “I’llget KaldurandCassie! Meet’chain thehanger! BackinaFlash!”

“What!? No! Bart!” he hissed.

“Come on!” Superboy dragged him along.

Raven was going to kill him. If Cyborg didn’t. His armor chirped in excitement.

“Not helping!” he hissed at the scarab which gave a mocking sound. Oh they were so dead…

However he heard Terra and Gar talking, worth the coming, painful death if he got out of training with Terra. Upon hearing her he grabbed Superbrat and hauled him along quickly as he narrowly avoided the cameras on the way to the hanger. They were all dead the moment it was noticed the jet was missing and they were definitely dead when Cyborg caught them. But it’d be worth it to escape Terra and her… Terra-ness. He was so over being her punching bag without Raven here to be interference, and one more hit from Terra and it wasn’t a guarantee his armor would behave.

“Be quiet!” Jaime hissed to the giggling boy as they clamored into the cargo compartment of Cy’s jet. Bart was there was Cassie and Kaldur moments later.

“What the!?” Kaldur looked sleepily confused.

“SSSHHHHH!” he hissed.

“What are we doing?” Kaldur demanded only for Bart to slam a hand over his mouth, Jaime did the same to Superbrat, Cassie was sleeping in her pajamas and Jaime had a feeling they’d just abducted their teammate; though how Bart got around Raven’s charms he didn’t know.

“Kay, London here we come!” Batgirl announced.

“I wanna fly!” Red Robin said.

“No way, you’re jittery.”

“You can’t fly.”

“I read the manual, and how hard can it be?”

Jaime paled, they were so dead. The jet lurched and Jaime’s stomach dropped.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Talia was leaning on the counter of her safe house as Slade Wilson sewed up her bullet hole. She’d been caught in the shoulder as she had bolted.

She still couldn’t shake the fear, the primal, unrelenting fear that she had walked right up to death. That Titan, whatever she was, it wasn’t natural, and it sent a shiver of fear; fear which was dormant in her being coursing down her spine and chilling her bones as her blood froze. The terror of seeing that… that thing! The darkness, and those red gleaming red eyes filled with hatred and rage which had almost drowned her.

Never in her life had she ever encountered something like that.

And it scared her to her to the core. Death would be more welcomed than whatever that was.

“Wilson, you encountered the Titan Raven before, what are her abilities, her file was thin,” Talia said.

“Raven is a telekinetic, half demon.”

“Demon?”

“Her father is Trigon,” He stated.

“I see.”

“I do not know what she is fully capable of, her file is, as you said, thin,” he said as he knotted the final thread and she nodded before she picked up her shirt and pulled it over her head. “She’s been called a witch, holds powers over magic, and is rumored to possess powers which the likes of us have never seen.”

“No matter, she will die,” Talia dismissed. She would personally kill the Titan for her attack. Talia did not like being made a fool of and Raven had turned her into a sniveling scared woman and Talia loathed to admit it, but she was scared. Killing what she was scared of would save her.

“You let Jason slip away,” her partner stated.

“I was underprepared again to face his companion,” Talia stated coldly. “It will not happen again.”

“Perhaps I should speak to the demon’s head about this, perhaps your fondness for your fuck toy is clouding your judgement,” Wilson stated. The knife was drawn and left her fingers in less than a heartbeat as it sliced Wilson’s cheek to embed itself in the wall.

“Jason is nothing but a tool to be used and now discarded. He had outlived his usefulness and failed the very mission I released him for,” she stated icily. Everything she’d done for Jason was to get him to be on her side, everything she had done was to make way for her son. Jason had merely been an instrument of that plan. And how and what she’d done to manipulate him meant absolutely nothing to her. The foolish boy had never fallen under her charms, but he had succumbed to his pain and she’d twisted that to hatred. Not even her father had accomplished that with Jason.

“So you admit you fucked the Batboy,” Wilson stated.

“That is none of your business,” she warned as she loaded a gun and sat at the computer as she started hunting Jason’s identity.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Bruce rubbed his temple when he walked out of the Cave. He’d had dinner with Dick and Kori, Kori and Selina were getting along well, but Dick was glaring daggers at him and he honestly didn’t know what to say.

For nearly three years he had regretted everything about how he’d handled the Red Hood situation. And he had desperately searched everything he could find to find Jason, but there was no finding dead men! And Jason was dead.

God only knew how much he’d wished that wasn’t so, but no one could stay off the grid in this world. Too many cameras, satellites, and resources to track a person. Jason had been good at laying low, but Bruce… he just didn’t believe his second son could be alive. Between the bomb and the lack of evidence that Jason was even alive… it was painful.

He looked up when he noticed Selina reading on the sofa in the library.

“Selina,” he sat on the couch with her.

“So Jason might be alive?” she said softly. He looked down at the floor. “You don’t need to explain, Alfred and Dick filled me in with what was going on. How are you though?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “If he didn’t die and I wasn’t there for him… I’ll never forgive myself, Selina.”

“Bruce, it wasn’t your fault,” she sighed.

“But it was,” he muttered. “Jason demanded I choose, it was him or the Joker, and the Joker… he was just egging Jason on. I thought… I thought if I could, could just get the Joker away from Jason and Jason away from the Joker that Jason would listen to reason.”

“Bruce,” she grabbed his hand.

“Yes, I would have had him pay for his crimes, he killed so many people, and he took over crime in Gotham, he deserved to be punished, but I’d… I’d have defended him,” he admitted. He’d get the best lawyers on retainer to get Jason off but Jason hadn’t known that because he hadn’t given Bruce a chance to talk him down.

“The next thing I know there’s an explosion, and everything was gone, Jason too,” Bruce said softly.

“Bruce, I do not agree with how you handle the Joker, but… I understand,” Selina said.

“God I wanted to kill that clown so badly when I couldn’t even find Jason’s body a second time,” Bruce whispered. “But… I can’t cross that line. Jason should have known that I couldn’t cross that line.”

“Bruce, Jason… he was my favorite Robin,” she stated, he lifted a brow. “Not that I haven’t loved your other kids, but Jason was my favorite. There’s something you just don’t get about Gotham and he did. He was a mouthy little brat, but Bruce, he got it; life on the streets and street justice and the importance of feeling safe. Killing the Joker, it might not have been something you could do, but it wasn’t for you. Jason needed to feel safe. I think that was what his goal was in the end. To feel safe.

“If he is alive, try to bring him home, if he isn’t, let him rest in peace,” Selina murmured.

“I…” Bruce started.

“He was your son before he was ever Robin, he was Gotham’s son before he was ever yours, and he deserves to come home, to know he has a home,” Selina murmured. “He deserves to know he has a family.

“Night, your children are exhausting,” Selina said before he could talk to her as she kissed him, stood and left him alone in the library.

Bruce just stared at the portrait over the fireplace and wished he knew what to do.

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