#batfamweek

[konan-supernova]

hello! ive just read your first fic on batfamweek 2023 and its amazing! i absolutely love it, you write the characters so well!! youve gained a fan xD <3

awwhahaaha thank you!! im glad you enjoyed, it really means a lot to hear 💙

#i haven't been in this fandom very long and im still working on characterization #so its nice to hear it came across well!! #tysm man 💙 #pxlpanic #konan answers

[preciousthingsareprecious]

A Lucky Shot

Hey guys! I wasn’t sure I was even going to get anything out for Batfam week, but I really wanted to do something, hopefully I’ll get at least one more fic out (but who knows, even on spring break this poor masters student is drowning in work). It’s Dick, Damian, while Dick is Batman and has some softness in it. 

Batfam Week Day 3

Prompts: Injuries | Bonding During A Mission | No Capes/Civilian AU

AO3 Link

Characters: Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne

Rating: Gen

Words:  2,210

~

It was times like this Dick really missed his escarma sticks. He’d considered adding them to Batman’s arsenal, but there were a number of reasons to keep them away, including knowing the change would shred whatever belief Gotham’s underbelly still had that he was the old Batman. He had enough trouble wrangling in the ones who’d caught onto the change quickly. 

Still, he missed them, and if he had them, he’d easily be able to catch the sword currently swinging down at him. As it was, he used the fins on the edge of his gauntlet to shove it away while ducking. He stepped back again out of the reach of the sword as the man arched it back towards him and scowled, maybe he’d been too quick in limiting Damian’s sword training. He’d have to loop it back in and figure out a solid defense against it.  

Speaking of Damian, Dick glanced across the street to find his partner vaulting off the shoulders of a quickly toppling thug, feet angled out to blindside another with a kick. He seemed to be holding his own well enough, so Dick turned back to the man he was engaged with. 

There’d been five guys they’d started out chasing. Robbers looking for a quick jewelry store heist, and picking a bad night to do it with the Dynamic Duo so close. They had taken out two already, leaving the two Damian was dealing with and Mr. Sword. Really Dick had no idea what this man was thinking, they were robbers not ninja, and they were most certainly not from the League, Damian had confirmed that quick enough. 

He crouched and swept a leg out, knocking the man off his feet and finally sending the stupid sword spinning across the concrete. The rest of the fight was quick as Dick swooped in to land a knockout blow before his opponent could even collect his bearings enough to sit up. 

Dick stood and turned to help Damian, but found his partner leaning down to secure an unconscious man’s hands with a zip tie, next to him lay the other man, hands already bound. Dick allowed himself a grin before leaning down to do the same to the guy he’d just knocked out. 

Not a moment after he leaned over a gunshot rang out, Dick spun, eyes catching on one of the first men they’d knocked out. He was pushed up on one hand with the other holding a gun out, and then over to where Damian had been standing, but was now crumpled on the ground, fallen over on the other goons. 

“Robin!” 

Damian didn’t respond as Dick’s hand moved from the zip tie pocket to pull a batarang out of his belt. He flung it out, the end cutting into the man’s hand and eliciting a yell. It was all the guy had time to do before Dick was on him, steel toe catching his exposed gut to kick him up and out of reach of the gun. He kicked out again returning the guy to oblivion. 

“Robin?” Dick called out again, already stepping towards him. 

His head screamed at him to stop a and continue correcting the mistake of leaving any of these men loose and checking on his partner, but his heart was all about making sure his brother was alive. 

“I’m fi--” Damian’s response turned to a groan. 

He was conscious at least, meaning Dick had time to finish up and make sure they weren’t surprised again. He bound the remaining men before bolting to Damian’s side. Dick’s heart was racing. In all the time they’d been out together so far, his brother had of course been injured, but never shot by something that had taken him down. With the way Damian liked to talk, Dick sometimes wondered if he really was as good as he liked to boast. 

This moment proved all that wonder wrong. Damian hadn’t moved, or made another sound since his aborted attempt at claiming he was okay. One look told him the bullet had caught Damian in the thigh and gone clean through, but that didn’t explain why he was still down.  

Dick was gentle as he turned Damian, heart pounding against his ears so loud he was surprised Damian hadn’t complained of the noise. His brother groaned, and released a pained hiss as Dick moved him. His face was pale and washed out, and one arm was wrapped around his middle. Red seeped through the green of his gloves. Dick wracked his brain for the memory of a second gunshot and came up empty. 

“Status?” he asked. 

“Stabbed.” Damian spat, then added, “and shot, ugh.” 

A laugh burst out and Dick quickly snapped his mouth shut, but his brother was already glaring up at him. 

“It is no laughing matter, Batman.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Dick was. He hadn’t meant to laugh, but there had been something so absurd about Damian’s response. And, Dick wouldn’t admit it out loud, but just hearing him talk had eased the tight vice of panic in his chest.

He dug around in his belt for bandages, “I’m going to deal with your leg while you keep pressure on that stab wound and we’ll be heading home soon enough.” 

While he wrapped Damian’s leg, then pressed a bandage to the kid’s side he called Alfred and asked him to prep the bunker for their arrival. Damian had gone silent and sullen after his outburst, and Dick couldn’t blame him. He wouldn’t want to chatter much if their situations were reversed. 

He lifted Damian without argument from the boy, which set off a spark of worry, but Dick tamped it down. He was still conscious, if perpetually scowling, and that’s what was important. He could pass off a lack of claiming he could walk to the fact that they both knew he wasn’t walking anywhere on that leg for a while. It would do Damian no good to lie about it, and Dick liked to think they’d made it past him thinking he had to put on airs for him. 

The worry that had eased in Dick’s chest clawed its way up again as he drove. Damian was too quiet, and after a few grumpy grunts of response to Dick’s chatter he stopped responding altogether. Dick had already been going faster than usual to get them home, and gunned it further the moment Damian’s head lolled. 

Over the months Dick had been working with Damian he’d had a number of moments where he thought he understood some of what Bruce had felt raising him. The experience of getting Damian back to the bunker, stitched closed, and stabilized was something Dick never wanted to go through again. It had felt like ages, his stomach sick, hands shaking like never before. He couldn’t imagine how often Bruce had felt like this, how much worse it had been when he’d carted Dick back from situations more dire than Damian’s. 

He was starting to understand why Bruce would disappear into the cowl and back out onto the streets, or stay just to beat a punching bag until it fell apart. 

Instead of doing any of that, Dick planted himself at Damian’s bedside. Alfred had promised he’d wake soon and Dick wanted to be there for him. Wanted to see him wake up and hear his gruff rebuttal of any and all coddling. Dick wanted things to feel normal again instead of shattered. 

Dick reached out and ran his fingers through Damian’s hair, brushing strands back away from a face still a touch too pale. This wasn’t right. Damian was too fierce, too proud, and too bright to be stuck in this bed. Dick swallowed back another bark of laughter, Damian would be fine. He knew that, it was bad but not that bad.

He sucked in a breath and leaned his head back, he was rattled. A normal night had gone sour, and Dick had let it shake him. He caught a lock of Damian’s hair between his thumb and pointer finger, rubbing it, of course he was shaken. He’d let his brother get hurt, let him get shot. Worse than than, he’d somehow completely missed the stabbing.

A part of him wanted to bundle Damian up now and never let him out on patrol again, no matter who’s fault it was. He wanted his brother safe. Protected. He could see why Bruce was so partial to benching Robins. He’d do it himself if he wasn’t sure it’d ruin every bit of progress he’d had with Damian. 

He looked back down at his brother, releasing the lock of hair to brush it all back again. There was a little white scar resting right at the edge of Damian’s hairline. Dick let his thumb slip over it. Damian had been through so much more than a bad patrol, more than Dick had a feeling he’d ever know about. Protectiveness swirled in his chest again, but how did one protect someone from their past? 

Damian’s eyes squeezed, then fluttered open. Green blinked blearily up at him in confusion for a moment before he frowned. Dick resumed running his hand through Damian’s hair as a gentle note for him not to get up. 

“Hey.” he smiled, “Feeling a bit better?” 

Damian turned his head away from Dick, not quite untangling Dick’s fingers from his hair. 

“Dames?” 

His earlier sullen mood and silence came back to Dick. He put the pieces together, Damian getting surprised by a bad guy, hurt, passing out, Dick should have seen the kid’s internal guilt trip coming a mile away. 

He moved his hand from Damian’s hair to tilt his face back in his direction. Dick raised an eyebrow at him, a silent prompt for more information. They should be beyond Damian thinking Dick was sending him home, but he knew his brother still liked to blame himself beyond what was due.

“What are you feeling?” 

“A dull throb in my leg.” Damian said, voice sour. 

That was not the answer Dick was looking for and they both knew it. He wasn’t going to let Damian wiggle out of talking about what was bothering him, especially not when he lectured him more often than not about using his words to avoid misunderstandings. Dick gave him a few seconds and at last his brother huffed. 

“Tt. I was not paying attention to my surroundings. This is my fault.” 

He stopped talking, hesitating a little longer. There was something else he wanted to say, but it seemed like Damian wasn’t sure he should. At last his eyes flit up to meet Dicks, “He could have shot you.” 

Dick let go of his face and moved to take Damian’s hand and shook his head in disbelief. Of course his brother would think of things in that light. That his being distracted was putting Dick in danger. 

“You do know I’m Batman right? I could have taken that bullet.” Dick said, letting the corner of his mouth quirk up in a smile. 

Damian rolled his eyes, “And I am Robin. It is my job to keep you safe.” 

He hummed, Damian had him there, but they were in a checkmate because Batman’s job was also to keep Robin safe. Not that the kid was going to listen to him right then. It was a longstanding argument between them, one Dick knew, dated back to every Robin and his Batman. 

“Well, I don’t blame you for anything that happened tonight.” he said, “And you shouldn’t blame yourself. We both let down our guards tonight. And you were hurt.” He squeezed Damian’s hand, “I should have noticed that sooner.” 

His brother shrugged, “It was a lucky hit, the blade slipped between a weak spot in my armor. I was going to tell you.” He searched Dick’s eyes as he said this, an earnestness about him that made Dick believe Damian would have announced the injury when he had a chance. 

“Good.” 

It still wasn’t quite normal, and Dick couldn’t help but still wish he could hide Damian away, but the relentless need to do so wasn’t so strong. 

“You know,” he said, “That guy with the sword got me thinking, maybe we need to go back to doing some sword practice when you’re recovered. If Gotham’s goons are going to be out and about swinging those things, I’d like to get some defense practice in against someone who knows how to use one.” 

Damian perked up at that, and pushed himself up a bit before Dick stopped him with another squeeze of his hand. He settled back against the pillows, eyes glittering, “It did take you far too long to disarm him.” he said. 

“At least I didn’t get stabbed.” Dick teased, and ruffled Damian’s hair, making him squawk. 

“Richard! Cease that at once, I told you the fool was lucky, nothing more.” 

Dick hummed and leaned back, “Alright then, tell me how you would have disarmed Mr. Sword?” 

Damian started in on an animated description of how different the fight would have been for him, and what Dick should have done. His excitement washing away the last of the fear still sitting in Dick’s chest, and replacing it with warm affection. 

#batfamweek2020 #batfamweek #Dick Grayson #Damian Wayne #Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne #patrol #injury #gunshot #stabbing #Dick Grayson is Batman #Damian is Robin #some fluff #honestly it's just a soft little slice of bad patrol #and some recovery #I've got a few other ideas but we will see if I can dig myself out of the pit of homework/life/work-work that I've fallen into #precious posts #fanfiction

[withthekeyisking-writer]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: DCU (Comics), Batman (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Alfred Pennyworth, Stephanie Brown, Hal Jordan, Clark Kent Additional Tags: Metahumans, Metahuman Dick Grayson, Metahuman Jason Todd, Metahuman Tim Drake, Metahuman Damian Wayne, Metahuman Cassandra Cain, Betrayal, Family Secrets, Angst, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, bruce done did a fuck up, Stress, Kidnapping, electric shock, Open Ending, Batfam Week, Batfam Week 2020 Series: Part 1 of Batfam Week 2020 Summary: 
Looking back, the signs are all there. But they never noticed it about themselves.
They never noticed how Bruce did.

#batfamweek2020 #batfamweek #batfam week #bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #metahumans #tim drake #jason todd #damian wayne #cassandra cain #fanfic

[crookedspoonfic]

[fic] Reverse Batfam AU (DCU)

PLEASE mind the tags. This one’s massively underage.

626. in your blind spot (DCU: JayDick, 5k, E!) Tags: Extremely underage noncon, creepy Jay, Batkids age reversal, noncon spanking, mention of murder, anal fingering, painful anal sex, loss of virginity, implied past sexual abuse, did i mention dark? Summary: The plan is simple: slip in, play with Dickie's head, slip out. Little did he expect the runt to have witnessed something he shouldn't have.

Silver moonlight bleaches Dickie's face white as the pillow it lies on. He's restless, his expression strained, and quiet whimpers tumble from his lips. He tries to keep them inside with his fist pressed against his mouth, but some escape anyway. Some even bear the shape of Dickie's nickname for Jason.

(Read more on AO3.)

Written for Day 4 “Robins / Reverse Batfam AU” at @official-batfam-week.

#batman #fanfiction #jason todd #dick grayson #batfamweek #jaydick #batfamweek2020 #creepy jay #my stuff

[dick-g-ayson]

Bruce and his two sons finally meet the Justice League....officially. Bruce and his boys are less than impressed, Hal is endlessly amused. 

Clark just wants to get on with the mission already.

Written for Day 1 of @official-batfam-week BatfamWeek2020!

It's a little late, but better late than never!

#batfamweek2020 #BatfamWeek #jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #hal jordon #batlantern #batfamweek day 1

[kaylabeemarie]

Batfam Week: Wayne Gala!

When all the guests had left, Bruce brought out the old record player and danced with his kids to songs from the 50s. Some favorites include Beyond the Sea (Bobby Darin), Hound Dog (Elvis Presley), At the Hop (Danny & the Juniors), Sh-Boom (The Chords), and Rockin’ Robin (Bobby Day)!

#batfamily #batfamweek #bruce wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #richard grayson #barbara gordon #Jason Todd #cassandra cain #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #selina kyle #stephanie brown #lucius fox #tam fox #luke fox #Tiffany Fox #jim gordon #batfam #my art

[hawkgirls]

instagram au ♡ batfamily

no capes au where all of them are living together, cass and jason are twins, tim makes typos & bruce is playing favourites whether he admits it or not

#batfamweek #jason and cass are twins fight me on this #batfamily #bruce wayne #dick grayson #duke thomas #jason todd #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #tim drake #damian wayne #instagram au #thesquadtm #TIM MAKES TYPOS ok #1k

[unavenged-robin]

Family portraits

Batfamweek 2017, day #1: family.

Read on AO3

It starts with a casual comment, one that shouldn’t bother him so much. And it doesn’t. Not right away.

“You don’t have any photo on your desk”, the new girl says. She started working at WE two weeks ago and Tim thinks her name is Kathy, or July, or something like that. He’ll pick it up eventually. Now he just blinks up at her from behind the pile of reports he’s working on.

“Sorry?”

She bits her bottom lip, now looking embarrassed at her own straightforwardness, and vaguely gestures at his desk again.

“No photos”, she repeats. “People usually have photos on their desk. Family. Girlfriends or boyfriends. You know?”

Family, girlfriends, boyfriends. Yes, Tim knows.

“Well”, he smiles politely. “I’m just trying not to look like I’m fifty and live only for my work, to the point to spend all my time in my office and need photographic reminders of what my family looks like.”

Kathy or July or something like that frowns at him.

“Beside, my family is really ugly”, Tim continues, going for less subtle sarcasm, but the joke doesn’t really comes out his mouth as a joke, and KathyJulySomethingLikeThat looks more confused than before.

“Mister Wayne Senior is not ugly”, she argues.

Tim doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or scoff at that.

“No, Bruce is not ugly, I suppose.”

“And he has a lot of framed photos on his desk”, KathyJulySomethingLikeThat points out.

“That he does”, Tim agrees weakly and there must be something in his voice, an undertone of, what?, bitter irony or hidden resentment, something Tim’s too tired to keep in check and away from other to see, and the result is that they look uncomfortably at each other for a moment and then the girl blushes.

“My apologies, Mister Wayne”, she says. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Tim. And don’t- it’s okay, really”, Tim sighs. “You do have a point, Kathy.”

“My name’s Ju-”

“July, you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Jude”, the girls finishes.

“Right. Jude. Uh”, Tim feels like he’s blushing too, now. “Great talk, Jude. I hope you like working here.”

“I’d say so”, Jude agrees, settling a box full of documents against her hip to open the door of Tim’s office. “I’ve been working here for two years now.”

Tim doesn’t know how to answer to that so he just buries his face behind a ledger and wishes to never meet her again.

*

He forgets about the awkward conversation for a couple of days, until he comes back to his office and cleans out the last pile of documents waiting for his signature.

That’s when he finds out that they now bothers him, the empty corners of his desk.

He stares at it in its entirety: files folder and memo holders, laptop and mouse pad perfectly aligned, dozens of different pens stashed in their pen pots depending on their color, the gold plate with his name engraved in it in elegant cursive and… well, nothing else without the skyscrapers of pending work.

Tim’s never had a desk so organized before in his entire life. He supposes that it marries well with his professional image, and yet it still bothers him to no end.

Also, he used to love photography. Having pictures all around like little windows on the past, familiar faces keeping him company during long nights and exhausting days. When did he lost that? When did he start to have empty corners and empty walls?

Probably when you started losing people to fill them with, he answers to himself, then shakes his head.

He asks for all the review files of their new acquisitions to be brought into his office. It’s basically half of the current year archive, enough stuff to keep an entire department busy for a month. He dismisses his secretary’s frown at the dozens of boxes now decorating his office with a tired smile.

*

The next week he’s already breaking even with the work, so he brings a photo of Stephanie for a test drive.

She’s not doing anything particular in it, just fixing her hair with one hand, barely smiling, looking like she’s a million light years away, but it’s still one of Tim’s favorite. And it’s nice to have it there. Really nice.

He keeps it.

*

He tries adding a photo of his parents on their wedding day. Has to take it off right away and hide it in the bottom drawer. It still hurts too much.

*

With Kon he doesn’t even bother to try. He has dozens of photos of him and he never even looks at them, only smiles at their memory. No way he could bear to have that painful reminder framed and displayed on his desk like that.

Beside, most of them are not appropriate to be shown in a professional environment anyway.

*

Stephanie sends him a photo of her and Cass wearing ridiculous crazy hats and laughing like mad women, and Tim smiles, prints it and adds it to his desk without thinking too much about it.

Now he has two photos of his girlfriend and one of his sister, and it feels right. Normal-right. Enough not to make him look like a sociopath to his coworkers, at least.

*

A few days later he tries again with a second set of parents. He says to himself that it’s out of obligation and not much else. Bruce and Alfred stare at him with a serious but not unkind look, and a younger version of himself smiles at Tim from his spot in the middle of them. It’s what it used to look like, long, long time ago, when Dick was often too busy for them and Jason and Damian were both still hidden threats.

He brushes the glass with his fingertips, ready to put that one away too, but in the end he doesn’t. This hurts too, but it’s a different kind of hurt, one he can bear to look at. One that he learned to live with.

*

He debates with himself about his brothers. They’re visibly missing now, but Tim has mixed feelings about it, to use an euphemism.

Also, he discovers straightaway that he doesn’t have any photo of them. The gallery of his phone is full of memes and snapchat’s photo from his friends, Stephanie and Cass, but not much else. So, even if he’s still dubious about it, he does the only sensible thing he can think about: he hacks Dick’s phone.

And Dick doesn’t fail him, for once. There are so many half-naked selfies of him that Tim could assemble three or four numbers of a new porn magazine out of them. Which sounds like a great revenge plan, if he’d ever need one. Dick better not piss him off too badly.

But looking at the photos, Tim finds himself smiling for a reason that totally has something to do with how much he used to love this man, his first and only brother for so many years. Not that Tim doesn’t love him still, but he just doesn’t remember how it feels like, to look at Dick and feel only amazement and affection, instead of the bittersweet mix of anger and nostalgia he feels now.

Lots of Dick’s selfies include Damian too. Obviously. And the brat always looks annoyed or exasperated in them, but Tim knows better. He can see the little twitches at the corners of Damian’s mouth, the soft arch of his eyebrows like he’s really trying for a scowl but can’t feel it, no matter how hard he tries. It’s... cute. It’s also weird as hell to see, because surely enough Tim’s never had one of those soft expressions ever thrown his way. That’s why, in the end, he decides to add one of those photos to his ever-growing collection: it’s not too bad to remind himself that Damian’s changed too.

Another reason, Tim acknowledges while fixing the last framed picture closer to the Bruce and Alfred’s one, is that it’s difficult for him to think of one without the other. And strangely, that doesn’t hurt as much as it used too.

*

Adding Jason is now a question of integrity.

Dick’s photos of him are all meant to be blackmail material, so Tim has no use for them. And the photo Tim himself has of Jason date back to a time none of them like to remember, even if for different reasons.

And it’s still stupid, but it’s also a project, now. One that Tim’s liking because he’s doing it for himself, even if it didn’t start that way. So one night after patrol, when they’re hanging out in their civvies in Jason’s apartment, drinking beers and playing video games, Tim just takes his phone out of his pocket and gestures for Jason to get closer.

“What?”, his brother asks, tilting his head to get a look at what Tim’s doing, and when he sees him open the camera app, flip it and hold the phone as far away for them he gives Tim an incredulous look.

“Are you serious now?”, he asks again.

Tim only shrugs.

“It’s what cool kids do nowadays, didn’t you know?”

“Tim, you’re not a cool kid.”

“Neither are you, Jason.”

“Excuse you, you are the one begging to do a selfie with me”, Jason taunts him, but his grin is more full of fondness than mockery.

“I’m not begging”, Tim retorts. Just shut up and try not to look too emo.”

He pays the photo with a cuff on the back of his head and twenty more minutes of teasing. Overall is not too high of a price.

*

“You’re running out of space here”, a known voice says, and Tim looks up in time to spot the smile on the new girl’s face. Jude, he remembers to himself. And she’s not new.

“My family takes up a lot of space”, he agrees, shifting his gaze from her to the collection of framed photos in front of him. There are at least ten now, standing on his desk. Barbara, Duke, Harper, Titus… they are all there now. Turns out that once you start, it’s difficult to stop. The walls are getting crowded too.

Most of the new photos Tim took by himself, and nobody protested his renewed interest in photography. Well, he had to pay Damian in photos of his pets in order to make him not smash his camera, but even that wasn’t so bad in the end (and Damian’s pet are better behaved than Damian himself anyway, so win-win).

“Can I?”, Jude asks and Tim nods at her with half a smile. The girl steps around the desk to get a better look, and she’s silent for a few minutes, examining the pictures one by one.

“I have to say that they’re not ugly at all”, she comments eventually. “You actually look like a family of super models.”

“That’s what we do at night”, Tim agrees solemnly, finding it very difficult to suppress a laugh. “Just don’t go tell it to anyone, okay?”

#batfamweek #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #jason todd #richard grayson #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #batfam #my fic #shari writes

[renecdote]

Request for the Batfam week: Would you write a story about Tim being adopted into the family in an Au where Jason didn't die, basically just a story about teenage Jason and young Tim getting to know each other

Sorry this is a few days late! It got a bit longer than planned… Hopefully it’s worth the wait :) This was actually so much fun to write that I might make the AU into a series at some point.

–

Jason creeps quietly down the hall, pausing at every corner to listen just in case Bruce or Alfred are still up. They shouldn’t be; it’s that murky part of the night where it’s too late for Batman but too early for the butler to be getting up to start the day. All occupants of the manner should be fast asleep, Jason included, but he’s careful to be quiet just in case.

He breathes a silent sigh of relief when he reaches the kitchen without being caught, making a beeline for the kettle without bothering to the turn lights on. There’s enough moonlight coming in through the windows above the sink to illuminate the corner of the bench where the kettle lives, but not much else. Jason pulls a mug out of the cupboard above his head and rifles through the teabags until he decides he wants English Breakfast not green tea. It’s only when he turns around to get the milk out of the fridge that he sees the figure sitting in the shadows of the kitchen table.

“Jesus Christ!” he yelps. “Why the fuc-dge are you sitting down here in the dark?!”

The kid, Tim, sad orphan vol. 3, newest addition to Bruce’s flock - brood, colony, gaggle? - flinches. He’s small and quiet pretty much all the time but when Jason’s in the room it’s like he’s trying even harder to be unobtrusive, practically invisible even. Jason doesn’t know whether it’s because the younger boy finds him intimidating or whether he just doesn’t like him. It’s only been two weeks and Alfred assures him that Tim will warm up to him in time, but Jason is starting to wonder whether they’re just too different to get along. Different ages, different backgrounds, probably different interests - it’s not like he knows what kinds of things Tim actually likes to do. Hell, the only thing they have in common is that their parents are dead. And not even that really since Tim’s dad isn’t really dead, he’s just not exactly living at the moment.

“I just wanted a glass of water,” Tim says, tapping the glass in front of him in proof, upperclass articulation making him sound more defensive than he probably means to be. Or maybe he really does think Jason’s going to rag on him for being up at this hour even though he’s clearly disobeying the bedtime rule as well. Who knows. Jason certainly doesn’t have a fucking clue what’s going on in his head.

“Relax, kid, I don’t care that you’re out of bed,” he says, grabbing the milk and kicking the fridge door shut. He pours some in his tea then puts it back in the fridge, taking the mug and moving closer to the table. “But, you know, you can turn lights on.”

“You didn’t.”

Jason opens his mouth to say “yeah, but I’m used to doing things in the dark” then snaps it shut when he remembers not everyone in the Manor is privy to details of their night jobs anymore. Although, he suspects Tim knows something’s up, or at least suspects they’re not just your ordinary rich family, because he has a funny way of disappearing just before Jason thinks they’ll have to make up excuses to go out on patrol, a way of suddenly not being around when they need to talk bat business. He’d thought it was just the kid not wanting to get underfoot in his new home, or wanting alone time, but now they’re sitting only a scant metre apart in the ever-lightening kitchen at some godforsaken hour just before dawn, and he realises Tim isn’t dressed in pyjamas.

“You goin’ somewhere?” he asks with a frown.

“Um.” Tim glances down at his dark hoodie, the bottoms of denim jeans peaking out under the table above scuffed sneakers. “I couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d go for walk.”

The kid doesn’t sound like he’s lying, but Jason’s spent enough time around people who lie for a living to develop a sixth sense for it. “Tim,” he says, slowly, an edge of amusement creeping into his voice even though he’s trying hard to keep it out. Alfred would skin him if he found out he had in any way encouraged the ten year old in their care to sneak out at night. And Jason has no doubt that’s exactly what has happened - probably not just tonight, either. “Have you already snuck out?”

“What makes you think I’d tell you if I had?” Tim retorts. He immediately bites his lip, eyes going wide, as though he’s shocked that he dared to be so forthright, so sassy, with Jason of all people.

Jason shakes his head, chuckles. “Okay, kid, fair enough. It’s not exactly sneaking out if you tell anyone I s'pose.”

“You’re not going to tell Mister Wayne or Mister Pennyworth?” Tim asks warily. Jason thinks it’s probably a good thing that he knows he’s done something wrong by sneaking out, but he has a feeling even tattling to Bruce or Alfred wouldn’t stop him. It’d probably just make the kid more sneaky. Although, now that he’s thinking about it, he wonders how Tim got past the perimeter alarm without tripping it.

“You tell me where you went and how you got out past the alarms and I won’t tell Bruce or Alfie,” he says. What he doesn’t say is that he won’t have to because he’s going to up the security himself and then next time the kid tries to sneak out he’ll likely get caught. It’s probably a little hypocritical preventing the kid from doing what he’s done numerous times since moving into the Manor, but Tim is only ten for god’s sake - he’s a walking target for all kinds of unsavoury people even if he’s not going anywhere near the city. And what business does a kid that young have being out of his house in the middle of the night anyway?

Tim stares down at the tabletop where his fingers are curled around his glass of water for so long that Jason doesn’t think he’s going to answer. And that makes him even more worried about why Tim was sneaking out. He’s too young to be getting into anything illegal right?

(There’s that hypocrisy again; Jason started getting into petty crime much younger than ten. But Jason came from a poor family in the Bowery, he was a street rat; Tim is from a respectable, white, wealthy family. Although, knowing the corruption that runs through most of the upper echelons of Gotham society, he wouldn’t be surprised if his parents were into some shady stuff. Surely they’d keep their kid out of it though. Wouldn’t they?)

“There’s a pond,” Tim says eventually, “near the boundary between the Manor grounds and my… the house I used to live in. It’s got lots of little fish and frogs, and the water is always cool. We had a picnic there once, a few years ago, after mum and dad had come back from Peru. It was nice. Fun.” He curls his fingers into his sleeves, twisting and pulling at the well-worn material. “Mister Pennyworth said I should hold onto good memories but I didn’t think he’d like me going back to my old house.”

“So you snuck out.”

Tim nods.

Jason shoulders relax with a silent sigh, relieved to hear that the kid wasn’t going anywhere really dangerous, was hardly leaving the property at all, in fact. “Alfie wouldn’t care,” he feels the need to say anyway. “So next time, just ask instead of sneaking off. Something could have happened to you and we wouldn’t have even known where to look.”

Tim nods again, but his lips are pinched into an unhappy frown and Jason almost wants to kick himself because the kid basically just admitted to missing his parents and his first reaction was to scold him. A shiver of guilt trickles down his spine; he may not get Tim’s situation exactly but he knows what it’s like to lose a parent and not have anyone willing to listen when you want to talk about it. He knows what it’s like to have a parent who’s there without really being there. His own memories claw at him, his throat tightening with unwanted emotions, and he feels a sudden need to end the conversation on a happier note.

“How about we watch a movie?” he suggests. Something lighthearted, happy, not Disney because ninety percent of the parents in those films are dead.

“But we’re supposed to be sleeping,” Tim says. He sounds confused, although juries out on whether it’s because he doesn’t understand why Jason would want to risk being caught out of bed, or because he’s not sure why Jason would want to spend the time with him.

Jason shrugs, already getting up from the table and gesturing for the younger boy to follow him out of the kitchen. “If Alfred or B catches us I’ll just say you had a nightmare and I was helping distract you.”

And when Alfred, inevitably, shakes him awake not even two hours later, looking very cross at finding him and Tim asleep on the couch in the den instead of in their beds, that’s exactly what Jason says. The butler’s face immediately softens, something like pride, maybe a little relief, smoothing out the wrinkles around his eyes, glad that Jason is finally making a bit more effort to get along with his new brother and Tim is finally starting to open up around him. Jason feels a little bad for lying to him, he always does, but Tim whimpers in his sleep, head pressing impossibly closer against his chest, and he figures just this once Alfred would probably forgive him. He is, after all, looking out for his new brother.

#Batfamweek #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #AU #fic

[literati42]

Batfam Week Day 7: Father’s Day

Title: What is Father’s Day?

Rating: PG

Genre: So much fluff

Characters: Tim Drake and Damian Wayne

Description: Batfam week day 7: Father’s day. Damian doesn’t know what father’s day is, so there is only one person to ask…because there is only one persona wake.

Note: This is the last day of Batfam week! But, I’m having fun, so I’m still accepting requests. Please feel free to send them my way!

             “Damian…I have an alarm clock,” Tim said, his face pressed into his pillow. He slowly rolled over to see the kid perched on his bed frame like an actual bird. Tim wished this was the first time he had woke up like this since the kid came to stay. At least he no longer worried about seeing a knife in that little hand. “You don’t have to wake me up?”  

           “I learned from the truly appalling number of commercials that today is a holiday known as Father’s Day. Explain.”

           Tim sat up, rubbing his eyes. “So…couldn’t get in touch with Dick, could you?”

           “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s early in the morning, why would I wake up Grayson?”

           The older Robin glared but shook his head. He sat up. “Okay…so, what is Father’s Day? Basically, it’s an overblown commercial holiday meant for people in happy family’s to brag obnoxiously about their father while people with more complicated feelings are guilted into buying cards with vague sentiments.” Tim paused when he saw Damian’s narrowed eyes.

           “You’re the one being obnoxious at the moment, Drake.”

           Tim sighed, “Look, it’s just about appreciating your Father. It’s all in the name, really.”

           Damian frowned, silent for a moment. “What does our family do?”

           “Oh no, no, we Wayne’s don’t do Father’s Day.”

           “Why?”

           “Well, because Dick, Jason, and Bruce lost their fathers and my father is…” Tim paused, considering how to explain to the pint-sized assassin the complicated nature of his biological family. “…is fine.” He shook his head, “So Jay, Dick, and Bruce spend the day brooding and we all go about our day collectively pretending we have developed cultural amnesia about what day it is.”

           “That sounds…”

           “Painfully repressed and deeply unhealthy? Welcome to the Wayne family.” Tim laid back down and rolled over, expecting Damian to just leave. Instead, he received a poke of Damian’s boot against his back. Tim groaned. “What?” he asked, sitting up again.

           “We’re not doing that this year.” Damian raised his fist, a familiar look of determination in his eyes. “We’re going to go make four cakes…” Damian put up a hand, “With Alfred’s help. We’re going to give one to Father, one to Grayson, and one to Todd with nothing on it. Why can’t we both not acknowledge what day it is and still do something? Then the fourth cake we will decorate and give to Alfred because there no reason he should suffer because his family is this traumatized.”

           “Jay and Dick aren’t fathers…”

           “No, but they are sad,” Damian said.

           “You spend too much time with Alfred…”  

           “You aren’t saying no.”

           Tim smiled, slightly, “I’m not.”

           “Come on, Drake. It is up to us because we are not adults and thus we still have a chance of breaking old habits unlike the others, who are far too old.”

           Tim smirked, “I like this better already.” He stood up. “Come on, Dami. The Robins have a mission.”

#batfamweek #tim drake #damian wayne #batman

[preciousthingsareprecious]

Bundle of Joy

Batfam Week Day 5: Legacy

Characters: Bruce, Alfred, Damian, Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph, Titus, and Zatanna

Words: 6,738

Rating: So fluffy you might rot your teeth reading it (Please note: the extra fluff is written for @audreycritter, you know what you did.)

Summary: When Damian is accidentally turned into a baby each of his family members gets a chance to take care of him. Cue adorable baby faces, Dick being delighted, and Bruce surprised at finding out just how much all his kids have grown.

AO3 Link

The batcave echoed. Despite Bruce’s every attempt to still the bouncing sounds, he couldn’t keep certain noises from echoing through the cavern. Specifically, the sound of a baby wailing.

Bruce tugged the overlarge hoodie a bit tighter around the boy in his arms and rocked him gently, cooing soft words of comfort and safety at him. It made sense that he’d be red faced and screaming, he had no idea what was going on. He’d been a 13-year-old boy moments earlier, and to suddenly find himself dropped back to being a baby had to be a rough transition.

“It’s alright, Damian. Your father has you.” The word father felt odd in the face of the baby. One didn’t call themselves ‘father’ around an infant. Dad, Papa, Daddy, all of those had a more natural ring to them. Father was so formal. But Father was what Damian called him, and in spite of Zatanna’s promise that Damian didn’t remember anything, he still felt like it might do some good.

Damian only screamed louder.

“Perhaps he’s hungry?” the magician asked from beside him.

She was hovering over his shoulder, attention on the boy in his arms. She had offered to take care of him while Bruce found clothes more suitable than the hoodie the boy had been wearing earlier, but he hadn’t been willing to let go. He’d tried, holding Damian out for her to take, only to pull him back at the last second, to keep him close. He’d never held his son this way before and knew it wouldn’t last very long. Zatanna was too skilled a sorceress to have trouble turning him back, even if she hadn’t quite figured it out yet.

He’d called Alfred instead, who’d taken the events in stride and informed him it would be a few minutes before he could find something suitable.

“Maybe.” he said, still murmuring down at the boy.

He couldn’t take his eyes off him, even screaming with his eyes squished shut, mouth open in an ‘O’ that didn’t quite seem proportional to his face, he was beautiful, and unexpected, and the best thing to come out of a magical accident.

Titus whined at Zatanna’s side, large eyes looking dolefully up at Bruce and Damian, in what almost seemed to be regret at causing the accident, or as a plea to Bruce to stop the noise.

“This is your fault you know.” he told the dog, kneeling down to face him.

He had hope that the animal might calm Damian some. He had been chasing him through the cave when everything went sideways. Titus wasn’t a jumpy dog, but he’d bolted at the first rumblings of Zatanna’s magic, a locating spell that was supposed to help Bruce in tracking down a shipment of magical artifacts both had been looking for. Damian had jumped after him in an attempt to keep any accidents from happening. Instead he’d found himself the object of Zatanna’s attention the moment Titus bumped her, causing her words to muddle and the spell to change.

They'd been left with an embarrassed Zatanna, one curious Titus, and a crying infant, swamped in a now too large hoodie and jeans. And Bruce. Bruce hadn’t been all that surprised. He’d catalogued, processed, and accepted the events. Everything with the precision of Batman. At least until he’d stooped to pick up his mewling son, his voice dropping to a quiet whisper to hush the boy, emotions curling in his chest he hadn’t expected.  

Titus inched forward to examine Bruce’s loud bundle, his wet nose pressing against one of Damian’s tiny fists, balled against whatever had him in such a state. The boy stopped suddenly, eyes popping open in surprise at the strange feeling against his hand. He squirmed until he could see Titus, green eyes blinking curiously at the dog.

Bruce held his breath as the two examined each other. Damian’s tiny, oh so tiny, fingers fumbling as they tried to grip the short hair on the dog’s face. For his part, Titus moved closer to nudge the baby, seeming to be confused. He sniffed the child before tilting his head and licking him.

Damian giggled, and Bruce knew if he’d raised the boy from infancy that giggle would have stolen his heart. As it was, it still did. Gripping it with the pure, light, tone he’d rarely heard his son make. He wanted to laugh and cry. Why hadn’t he pressed Talia harder when she’d claimed to have lost their baby? Why hadn’t he kept an eye on her anyway, knowing the possibility of her lying to him was high? Why had he missed out on years of tiny, joyful giggles?

“It seems you’ve managed to calm him.” Alfred’s voice pulled Bruce from his thoughts. He turned his head to see the man standing over him, arms filled with baby supplies.

Bruce stood, keeping an eye on his son to make sure taking him away from Titus wouldn’t start the screams again, but Damian seemed happy enough to look at Alfred, hands reaching for the pile of stuff in his arms.

There weren’t many things that ruffled Alfred, they’d been through too much over the years for much to faze the man, but when he caught sight of Damian his eyes widened for a moment before they softened at the boy.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Bruce found himself asking.

“Yes, he is.” Alfred said.

Bruce had no idea why Alfred had anything suitable for a baby in the manor, but the man did. Diapers, a bottle, and even a onesie, decorated non-ironically in Batman symbols. He only let go of Damian when Alfred insisted he either do so or get the child diapered and clothed on his own. Alfred dismissed him to discuss the ramifications of this ‘accident’ with Zatanna. Bruce stepped away, his arms feeling a little lonely without the warm weight of his youngest in them.

“I am so sorry, Bruce.” Zatanna said when he turned his attention to her.

He gave her a half smile. “It’s not so bad. At least you didn’t age him. If you’d done that I don’t think we’d have been able to convince him to let you turn him back.”

She smiled and glanced around him at Alfred and the baby. “He’s pretty cute this way.”

Bruce nodded, tempted to turn around and look again. He didn’t, as lucky as he was to have a few moments with his son at this age it couldn’t last. “Have you figured out what spell it was you accidentally used?”

Zatanna crossed her arms and bit her lower lip. “Not exactly. What I need to do is take a look at Damian and read the magic I placed over him. That way I can see if it’s something that will wear off on its own or if I need to take it off.”

“Why wouldn’t you just take it off?” Bruce asked.

“Damian is a child, and magic can affect them differently than it does adults.” Zatanna said. “If the spell will wear off by itself, it’s safer to let it than try to remove it and risk something else going wrong.”

Bruce nodded. “If it’s temporary, how long will it last?”

She uncrossed her arms and shrugged. “It’s hard to tell, but I meant the original spell to last about twenty four hours, so if we’re lucky that’s all it’ll be.”

A day. One solid day with his son as a baby. Bruce hadn’t thought to hope for that. He didn’t think to want it, but now that the possibility existed he realized he wanted it more than he probably should. More than he deserved.

“Will he remember?” Bruce asked.

“No, it’ll feel like he’s had a long restful sleep.”

“Good.” Bruce nodded.

He could only imagine Damian’s reaction otherwise. Angry, and embarrassed at ending up in such a compromising situation he’d probably ignore Bruce for a week out of spite at the situation. This way he’d still be embarrassed, but it would blow over quickly, an event to be forgotten by the boy, and cherished by the father.

There was a giggle from behind them, and Bruce found himself turning without thinking. Alfred had finished changing Damian into the onesie, with a matching black hat on his head, the bat symbol outlined in yellow on the front. He was sitting on a medical cot, reaching for a colorful stuffed parrot Alfred was dangling over him. His fingers brushed at the multi colored tail and Alfred brought the toy down swiftly to boop Damian’s nose with before raising it again, making the boy squeal with delight.

“If you need to check him, Miss Zatanna, now would be the time, while he is content.” Alfred said, not looking up from Damian, a small smile on his lips.

They moved to Damian’s side, the boy glancing at them for a moment before turning his attention back to the bird that Alfred was now bouncing in front of him. Bruce turned his own attention from his son to Zatanna as she whispered something, eyes glowing for a moment before fading back to normal.

“It is temporary.” she said.

Something in Bruce shifted, a sigh of relief from within. He’d held so much hope for extended time, and to have the wish granted was almost unbelievable.

But now, he was going to cherish the unexpected joy of being able to see Damian as he would have been if Bruce had known about his existance years ago. It didn’t change missing his birth, but holding him as a baby was answer to a prayer he’d never felt worthy to utter. If he could, he’d wish to see all his children like this. It didn’t matter that most had been born to other parents, he loved them the same, and there was something special about seeing them so young.

Maybe it was the utter dependency on him. Or the idea of caring for a life that was just beginning. What he really thought it was, was the trust and joy on his boy’s face as he sat across from Bruce, tiny fists finally catching the bird’s tail. It was a look Bruce had never gotten from Damian before. Not that his son didn’t trust him, just not this way. Not in such and open, honest manner.

“We can continue the search tomorrow.” Zatanna said. “I’m sure you're worried about him.” she nodded down at Damian who was pulling at the bird now, a look of concentration on his face.

“It may be beneficial to us all if you took the time off.” Alfred suggested, releasing the bird so Damian could pull it into his lap.

Bruce nodded. “Why don’t you take Damian upstairs while Zatanna and I work out the plan for tomorrow and then we’ll all take the day off.”

~

Bruce worked things out with Zatanna for her to re-cast her original spell and track the information for him, leaving him free for the rest of the day. Their original plan had involved mostly waiting anyway, and not much would change if they began compiling the information the next day instead of that night.

It took him longer than he’d hoped, and by the time he’d made it back upstairs he found Alfred without Damian. After a frown, the butler informed him that he’d left the boy with Dick, who’d showed up for a preplanned day with Damian and jumped on the chance to watch him. They worked out the cancellation of Bruce’s meetings for the day and split ways, Alfred heading off to start lunch and Bruce to the living room where his sons were.

He found Dick sitting on the floor, bouncing Damian up and down on his thighs. Both were smiling at each other.

Dick turned his head when Bruce came close, and smiled. “Hey, B.”

“How’s he doing?” Bruce asked, stepping around the couch to stand close to them. He was struck by a kind of shyness, an idea of wanting to leave Dick to play with his baby brother without his presence feeling overbearing.

“Good. He’s a big fan of bounces.” Dick said, letting the baby stand on his legs while still holding his arms, “Not so much of silly faces though. He’s too serious for that. Aren’t you, Damian?”

Dick’s voice took on that tone one does when speaking with babies, kind of squishy and soft. It made Bruce smile, the tone would have never been tolerated if Damian were his actual age. No, it would have been met with fury and a demand for a fight.

As it was the boy gave Dick a serious look and tugged on his hands demanding the bouncing resume. Dick obliged, eliciting a squeal of approval from him. Bruce didn’t think he would have ever gotten used to that sound coming from Damian, no matter how long he heard it. No one could get used to the way their heart seemed to both soar and laugh along with the child’s laugh.

Bruce smiled at them both. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“So, how long’s he supposed to be like this?” Dick asked as he leaned back, pulling Damian with him and up over his head, bouncing the now horizontal baby with his arms. Damian seemed to like this even more and clapped his hands with the rhythm as he rose and fell.

“About a day.” Bruce answered.

Dick would be a good dad. He realized, watching them. Gentle and patient with his kids, and fun. So much fun. He’d be strong too, able to take care of his family no matter what the situation, but he’d do it better than Bruce had. There would be joy in his house, even in the rough times.

“Your so cute this way, Dames. If only you always let me play with you like this. We’d have way more fun.” Dick said, easing the boy back down to hold him as he stood on his feet.

If Bruce was being honest with himself, Dick was already a great dad. He’d stepped in where Bruce himself had failed. He’d taken Damian in at his worst, and eased the boy into both the household and their lives. His soft patience just enough to coax Damian’s true nature out from behind the programing his mother had put him through.

Damian shifted his balance from foot to foot as if testing how they felt on the carpeted rug Dick had set him on. Bruce wondered for a moment if this Damian could walk or not. What age was he? Twelve, maybe fourteen months by his size and attitude?

The boy stepped towards his older brother, watching his feet carefully as he did so. He wobbled, but managed the step. Then he made to take another and bumped his chubby foot into Dick’s leg. He frowned at the offending leg, a pout pushing out his lower lip so far out it utterly declared his displeasure with the obstacle.

Dick chuckled. “Let’s try a different direction, eh?” he said lifting the boy and turning him to face the open carpet in front of Bruce.

After a moment of confusion Damian toddled his way forward, Dick holding his hands high to keep him balanced. He glanced at Bruce.

“What do you say, B? Should we see if he can handle it on his own?”

Damian looked up at him, his face so focused it seemed to give Bruce the permission to agree. He knelt down and nodded causing Dick’s smile to grow into a grin.

“Alright, Damian. Head over to your dad.” Dick said and released his brother’s hands.

Damian thrust his hands out forward for balance and toddled over to Bruce. His steps fast and uneven, his whole body bobbing with each clumsy step. The last few were rushed, almost run steps that sent him stumbling into Bruce’s arms.

Bruce grinned down at the boy held loose in between his open palms, already trying to climb up his knees, hands braced against them to push himself up.

“You’ve got all the energy in the world, it seems.” He said, before scooping Damian into his arms. He was rewarded with another giggle. Maybe he could get used to them, in the good way. The way that said it was something welcome every time he heard it.

He looked up and Dick had his phone in his hands, thumb pressing against the center button so fast Bruce wasn’t sure if he was taking pictures or trying to fix a glitch.

“I’m sending this to Steph. And Cass, Tim too, even though he’ll probably use it for blackmail. Do you think Jason would want to see? I’ll send them anyway.” Dick said, letting the phone fall to a more comfortable height.

Bruce realized belatedly that he should stop Dick from sending the pictures. It would surely mean the end to his quiet time with Damian. All of his kids would come over to at least see Damian, and many many more pictures would be taken. Tim would certainly use it as blackmail, and Damian would discover the full extent of his situation when he returned to normal.

Dick looked up at him with a grin, “Steph says don’t move, she’ll be here as fast as possible.”

~

“I didn’t expect him to be so quiet.” Tim said, examining his younger brother with a wary eye.

He and Steph had found Bruce and Damian still in the living room. Dick had ducked away to grab a snack in the kitchen the moment Damian’s eyes began drooping, a clear indication he was ready for a nap.

It left Bruce sitting, back leaned up against the couch, with Damian curled up in his arms, sleeping peacefully. They’d been that way for almost half an hour, Bruce entranced as he watched Damian’s tiny chest move up and down in deep even breaths. And Damian, sleeping as if he were recharging for his meeting with his next brother and almost sister.

He had woken the moment Tim and Steph had come into the room. Green eyes bleary with sleep, but growing alert as he watched the room’s new occupants. He squirmed until Bruce helped him sit up in his lap, presumably so he could get a better look at everyone.

Steph scooped up the forgotten bird plush and held it towards Damian. He reached for it at first, then paused and frowned at Steph for a moment before shoving the toy away with enough force it fell from Steph’s light grip.

“Hey, not nice Baby Bat.” Steph said, before looking up at Bruce, “Ha! He really is a Baby Bat this time.”

Bruce frowned a little. “Don’t remind him of that when he’s back to normal, or he’ll completely outlaw the nickname.”

“All the more reason to do it then.” Steph said, picking the animal back up to shake in front of Damian.

The boy swatted at it more fiercely this time, knocking it from her grip. Bruce wasn’t sure why he’d suddenly taken a dislike to the toy. Unless it wasn’t the toy itself, but Steph. Which was odd since Damian typically liked her.

“I don’t think he likes it, Steph.” Tim said, moving to sit next to her.

Damian caught sight of him and let out a happy gurgle. He pressed his hands into Bruce’s arms and pushed himself up, and out of his lap, tumbling the short distance to the ground, only caught from hitting his head by Tim, who’d instinctively reached for him.

Damian giggled and allowed Tim to lift him into his own lap. Bruce wanted to laugh at the look on Tim’s face. It was somewhere between confused and suspicious, still he let the child clamber onto him, going so far as to let Damian stand on his legs and press his hands to Tim’s cheeks.

“Oh, I am taking photos. Tim, this is going on Instagram. You’ll be known as the next great baby whisperer.” Steph said.

Tim gently pulled Damian’s hands away, eyeing the boy. “He’s not acting like an assassin baby.” He said.

“And, why would he?” Steph asked, scooting to Tim’s other side for a better camera angle. Bruce made a mental note to get the photos from her later, they’d be better than what he could pull from the manor’s security footage.

Bruce was expecting Tim to say something about Damian naturally being a terror, instead he looked thoughtful before he spoke.

“Well, Talia raised him. And from what he’s said, she started his training pretty early. Like fresh out of the womb early.” He frowned. “Though I’m not sure even Damian could prove that.”

The thought of this happy, bubbly, baby going through any kind of training at his age, especially that of the League made Bruce’s stomach turn. He’d let it happen. Let Damian stay with his mother and go through that.

He imagined Damian as he was now, eager and ready to smile, that happy trust destroyed by angry words and harsh actions against him. Everything designed to destroy the innocence he carried and craft him into a weapon.

Bruce had the sudden urge to take Damian back into his arms and ask Zatanna to keep him this way, give him a second chance at growing up. But it wouldn’t be fair to Damian to make him grow up twice. If he’d learned that Bruce had done it, it wouldn’t matter the differences in how he was raised, it would break their bond.

He’d have to be happy with the tiny blessing of having him like this for a day, and hope he could nurture the same trust back into his son when he returned to his normal age. Damian had already started to soften, maybe if Bruce tried harder he could speed things along.

“Alfred says you’re taking the night off, does that mean everyone should?” Tim asked, arms wrapping gently around Damian.

For all his earlier worries about Damian’s intentions, he seemed to be taking well to the boy. Though, Damian himself seemed to have a way of winning over anyone who stayed too close. Bruce blamed the giggle.

“I won’t tell you not to, but a night off would do everyone some good.” Bruce said.

Tim blinked at him. “Really?” he asked.

“Really.”

Tim frowned, “Having a baby has changed you, Bruce.”

“Having a baby changes everyone, Tim.”

They looked at each other for a moment before Damian started squirming again, prompting Tim to reach out for the forgotten toy. This time Damian took it without argument.

“No fair.” Steph pouted, “He normally likes me, how come it’s you today?”

“Don’t ask me.” Tim shook his head, “Damian hates me.”

Bruce was ready to interject and say that Damian didn’t hate Tim. They had their differences, but Bruce had watched the ice between the brothers thaw over time. He doubted they’d ever be as close as Damian and Dick were, but he never had to worry about sending them on patrol together either. Both would die for the other if the need arose.

“I doubt that.” Steph scoffed. “He likes to protest, but he doesn’t hate you. I actually think this proves it.”

“Have you already forgotten, he doesn’t remember us.” Tim said. “Besides, if he likes me, what does that say about you? He wouldn’t even take the stuffed animal from you.”

Steph shrugged, nonplussed. “He’s obviously intimidated by how amazing I am. It’s too much for him.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m serious.” Steph said, pointing at him. “You wonder why he’s all over you. Well, babies have instincts, Tim. It’s what keeps them from being complete death magnets.”

“Death what?” Tim said, interrupting.

Now Steph rolled her eyes at him, “Death magnets. You know, babies are always crawling towards danger instead of away from it.” She mimed what Bruce guessed was supposed to be a baby moving towards danger while making a sour face. “Anyway, they’ve got instincts. And one of those is trust. They always know who’s going to take care of them, and keep them safe, and who might be dangerous.”

Damian tried to stand with the bird, but instead lost his balance and fell back into Tim’s chest. He adjusted his arms around the kid to better hold him while talking. “And what does that have to do with Damian liking me?”

Everything. Bruce wanted to say, knowing exactly what Stephanie was getting at. Some part of Damian remembered the trust they’d built together, and knew that Tim was someone he could be at ease around. Even helpless and dependent, Damian picked Tim over Steph to watch him. Bruce was confident, that even if Damian returned to normal with nothing gained from this situation the idea wouldn’t change. The two would be there for each other, long after their other siblings might have moved on.

“Isn’t it obvious? He trusts you. His instincts told him you were safe.” Steph said.

Tim seemed to stall at that. His whole body going stiff like a board as he processed the information. Bruce wasn’t sure he was breathing, and leaned forward to shake him, but Damian beat him to it, swinging the bird toy so it smacked him in the face. Bruce wasn’t sure he’d ever heard Steph laugh so loud before, and he’d been there during the mustard incident.

~

The moment Damian’s stomach grumbled under Tim’s palm he thrust the child back at Bruce with a hurried explanation of the problem and a wary eye, just waiting for the kid to start crying. Damian didn’t, but it was mostly because Bruce was acting preventatively. His son had a sour look on his face, a pout that said he might cry soon if he couldn’t figure out why his stomach was grumbling.

Bruce gathered him up and took him to the kitchen. Alfred had distributed lunch earlier, leaving some out for anyone who decided to wander into the manor, and Bruce hoped he’d prepared a bottle. It would save time, and hopefully keep an explosion from happening.

He found Alfred and Jason in the kitchen having tea. Both men looked up when he entered, Alfred smiling, and Jason grinning.

“So, this is the tater tot, shrunk down to an appropriate size.” Jason said, standing.

Bruce gave him a half smile. “You may want to hold off the official examination, Jay. He’s hungry and his mood is dropping.”

He wasn’t lying. Damian had started squirming in his arms, and instead of the happy sounds he’d made for most of the day he was starting to sniffle and grumble.

Alfred stood from his own seat and moved to the refrigerator. “I prepared him a bottle, earlier but he’ll have to wait while we warm it up.”

Damian’s hands reached immediately for the bottle when Alfred pulled it from the fridge, and he pushed at Bruce’s arms when it wasn’t handed over to him. Bruce wondered what exactly his son recognized and remembered. He seemed to do well enough with walking, and he’d recognized the bottle right away, but he hadn’t reacted at all when Tim had mentioned Talia.

He fussed the entire time Alfred slowly warmed the bottle in the microwave, putting it in for short increments so the formula didn’t get too hot. Bruce added another mental note to ask Alfred why he had so much baby stuff prepared after all this was over. He’d expected to have to wait for an emergency trip into town before they could take care of anything earlier, but Alfred had not been caught off guard yet.

“There we are, Master Damian.” Alfred said taking the bottle over to them.

He handed it to Bruce with an expectant look and Bruce found himself at a loss. His experience feeding babies was shaky at best, the last time had been years ago and it had only been for a few moments in a coffee shop while the woman he’d been helping got her drink.

“Give it to him, but make sure he’s tilting it at a proper angle so he has an easier time drinking.” Alfred said.

Bruce nodded and let Damian take the bottle from him, keeping one hand loose around the bottom so it didn’t slip from the boy’s eager fingers.

“Should he even be on formula?” Bruce asked, suddenly worried they were feeding him the wrong thing.

Alfred hummed, watching them. “We could try something more substantial later if he’s still fussy, but this is the safest bet since we have no history with his dietary practices.”

“I get dibs on giving him a lemon. Babies make the best faces when they eat them.” Jason said from his place at the bar. He’d sat back down, and seemed happy enough to watch as Bruce fumbled with the bottle.

“We’re not going to give Damian a lemon just so you can laugh, Jason. Maybe a cookie of some kind, though.” Bruce said, his voice gentler than he’d wanted the light reprimand to be.

Alfred smiled and sat down, his attention still close on Bruce and Damian. “I wouldn’t be too harsh on him. Feeding your child is one of the joys of fatherhood. Seeing them make faces at good and bad flavors is simply a bonus.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes at Alfred. “Why do I have the sinking suspicion you made it a habit to sneak me food that tasted bad when I was younger?”

“Experience is the best teacher, Master Bruce.” Alfred said, before taking a sip of his tea.

After Damian finished the bottle Bruce let Alfred show him how to burb the boy. At that point Jason demanded his turn to hold Damian.

“I’m sure everyone else has already had a shot, and since this is a once in a lifetime thing I need to at least experience it.”

Damian was sleepy enough to allow the transition easily, moving from being curled against Bruce’s chest to Jason’s. He yawned and balled his fist in Jason’s t-shirt, eyes slipping shut in contentment.

Bruce pulled out his phone and motioned for Jason to pose. If everyone else was taking pictures of Damian, he wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to get one of Jason holding him. He snapped a few for good measure.

Jason looked so natural standing there cradling a baby in his arms. He, like Dick would make a good father one day. He might not settle down the traditional way, but Bruce had a feeling that Jason wouldn’t let that stop him from taking in kids of his own. He was most like Bruce in that sense, unable to leave someone behind if he could take care of them.

“He’s pretty cute like this.” Jason said, his voice soft so he wouldn’t wake Damian. “Is Zatanna sure he has to change back tomorrow?”

Bruce brushed Damian’s dark hair back from his forehead, letting the fine strands slip through his fingers. “He can’t stay this way. No matter what it might do for him.”

“I know. It’s just, I keep thinking what if. I had to have seen him while I was with Talia.” Jason said, eyes locked on Damian. “I don’t think about it often, but I know it had to happen. There’s no way we didn’t cross paths. And if I’d known who he was? Well, even my anger at you wouldn’t have made me let him stay there.”

Bruce moved his hand to Jason’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Jay. If anything, it’s mine. I should have kept a closer eye on Talia, maybe even suspected her of lying to me. Instead I let the matter drop, happy to stay oblivious.”

“It is neither of your faults.” Alfred said, gathering his and Jason’s used teacups. “And even if some blame were to rest on either of you, it does no good dwelling on the past.”

Jason smiled at him. “Your right, Alf.”

“Of course, I am, it’s my job.” Alfred said, giving them a wry smile.

Damian stirred from his short nap, a yawn taking up most of his face as he rolled away from the warmth of Jason’s chest. Jason sat down and let Damian sit on the table in front of him, keeping one hand close by to grab the kid if he happened to fall.

Alfred walked over with a bowl of lemon slices and smiled, setting them down outside of Damian’s reach. Bruce grinned up at him and handed Jason a lemon slice.

All three couldn’t keep from laughing at the first face Damian made when biting into the tart citrus. His face scrunched up in a pucker that seemed to turn even his nose up, and he dropped the slice almost immediately.

Jason handed him a second one and the process repeated, this time Damian chewed on the lemon a little longer, making his scrunched face the whole time. They went through the bowl of slices, Damian apparently happy to try each slice in hope that it might be different than the last.

Jason was about to hand him the last one when he paused, his own nose scrunching. “I think Dames has had a little accident.” He said.

“What do you mean?” Bruce asked.

Jason lifted Damian by his arms, and handed him to Bruce. He took Damian and knew immediately what Jason was talking about, if the sagging diaper wasn’t enough of an indication, the smell was.

“Are you sure you don’t want the honor? It is a once in a life time opportunity.” He asked Jason.

“Oh no, this is another one of those ‘joy’s of fatherhood’” Jason grinned. “And I’m not his father, that name belongs to you. Good luck, B.”

~

After changing him Bruce took Damian to his study. Alfred had managed to shoo everyone away long enough to give Bruce some quiet time with his son, and he was taking advantage of it. He’d been planning on sitting with Damian and committing everything about him at this age to memory, instead he’d found himself showing Damian all the pictures he had lining the room.

Pictures of his mother and father, of his grandparents. Pictures of each of his children when he’d first brought them home, and gradually moving up to the present. He even had some of himself from when he was young.

These were the one’s Bruce stopped on and whispered to Damian about for an extended period.

‘This was me when I was ten, the same age you were when you came to live with us. It was taken just after my parents died, and I was a mess. I don’t think I’ve ever apologized for leaving you at the same age my parents left me at. I’m so sorry, Damian.’

‘This was me at the age your supposed to be now. I was just as troublesome as you are, probably more so back then. I did everything I could for attention, as a way to stop the pain I couldn’t quite escape. I think it was around this time I really decided that Batman was something I had to make a reality.’

‘Here I am as a baby, like you are now. But I only got to experience it once. I wonder if you’ll remember any of this tomorrow when you’re stalking the manor trying to round up all the pictures your family has taken of you.’

He wasn’t sure when she walked in, but Cassandra made herself known the exact moment she wanted to. A light knock on the door frame stopped Bruce’s trip down memory lane and had him turn to smile at her.

“And this,” he said to Damian, “Is your big sister, Cassandra. You look up to her a lot, even if you hate to admit it.”

“Hello, baby.” Cass said, stepping towards them.

Damian smiled at her, a bright, happy smile that she returned.

“May I?” she asked.

Bruce turned Damian over to Cass who held him in her arms a moment before sitting down on the floor with him. Bruce followed her lead, sitting next to them, with his back resting against the back of his table.

Damian babbled at her, hands going to tug at her hair. She let him play with it, until he got tired, flopping back into her cradled arms.

“He is sweet.” She said. “Like he is when older.”

“On good days, yes.” Bruce smiled.

Cass shook her head. “Every day. It’s just hard to show.”

She was right, of course. Damian was sweet. It was still buried beneath hurt, years of training, and the need to be accepted, but it was there and it always came out in the most surprising of ways.

Bruce thought Cass had always known that about Damian. He’d been wrong, she’d told him how irritated she’d been with him when they’d first met. How his attitude had made her turn her attention away from him, happy to be angry with him on the surface instead of reading the reasons beneath.

But she, like the rest of the family had come to know him and set her original ideas behind her. Damian had changed, and earned the change of mind in his family, and Cassandra had been happy to give it. Her support was something Bruce knew Damian cherished.

Cass locked eyes with Damian and pointed at Bruce. The boy turned his head to look at his father and Cass said. “Dad.”

Bruce opened his mouth to answer, but Cass shook her head at him then repeated the motion and word, to Damian. She did it a few more times, and as she did so realization slowly dawned on him. She was teaching him to talk. He was old enough to figure out the words, and Bruce was surprised he hadn’t tried anything yet with all the attention he’d been getting that day.

Cass frowned at Damian when he didn’t seem to be willing to repeat the word.

“He hasn’t said anything all day.” Bruce told her.

Her frown deepened. “He should. It is right when being introduced.”

“I’m sure he would have if he’d known that.” Bruce said, smiling at them. He reached over and ruffled Damian’s hair. “He’s happy to see you though.”

She smiled at this and scooped Damian into her arms. “I am happy too. Happy for you, and him. It is a blessing.”

“Yes, it is.”

They sat together as Cass tried a few more times to get Damian to say something. She focused on ‘Dad’ but tried other words like ‘no’ and ‘hi’ and even ‘Cass’ but he refused say more than baby gibberish.

“I’m sorry.” Cass said, at last. “I know you would have liked it.”

“It’s ok. I got more than enough today.” He said. “Thank you for trying.”

She was always so loving. Bruce was so proud of Cassandra for that. She’d taken her upbringing and turned it completely around, choosing to help people instead of hurt them. He knew she’d carry that resolve with her for the rest of her life, no matter what she chose to do with it.

He was proud of all of his children, each one was so different, yet they’d already grown into people he knew the world could one day look up to, even if they changed it in small ways. What he was happiest about was that none of them had turned out like he had, no matter their similarities to him. Every single one of them had a chance at a happier future than his had been at their ages, and he make sure things stayed that way.

Even Damian, with so much growing left to do, would have better opportunities before him, simply because of the family surrounding him.

“We are lucky.” Cass said, and Bruce thought she was still talking about Damian.

He looked down at the boy, playing with one of Cass’s sleeves, and smiled. “Yeah.”

She shook her head. “No, we are lucky to have you.”

“Oh,” Bruce said. “Me too, but about you. All of you.”

She smiled. “I know.” Then she looked down at Damian and pointed at Bruce. “Who?” she asked.

He looked at his father and frowned for a moment, concentrating. Cass repeated her question and Damian nodded.

“Daaa.” He tried and then grinned, trying again, “Daa...Dad.”

#batfamweek #bruce wayne #damian wayne #jason todd #alfred pennyworth #tim drake #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #richard grayson #bafam #fanfiction #fluff #this is so much fluff #I wrote this fluff for Audrey #because she's going to kill us with her Legacy fic #you have been warned #no editing we die like mne #Because I finished this at 2 am and can skip the editing part

[withthekeyisking-writer]

Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: DCU (Comics), Batman (Comics)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne
Characters: Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon, mentioned other characters
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Batkids Age Reversal, Dead Bruce Wayne, (well “dead” bruce wayne), Damian Wayne is Batman, Jason Todd is Shrike, Tim Drake is NOT called Red Hood but he’s kinda red hood, Dick Grayson is a Talon, Dick Grayson is Robin, Court of Owls, Night of the Owls, Barbara Gordon is Batgirl, Duke Thomas is Signal, Conditioning, Hurt Dick Grayson, Protective Damian Wayne, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Batfam Week, Batfam Week 2020
Series: Part 4 of Batfam Week 2020
Summary: Damian is twenty-four years old, his father is dead, he’s wearing a cowl he stopped wanting a long time ago, and there’s currently a ten-year-old brandishing a knife at him.

#batfamweek2020 #batfamweek #age reversal au #damian wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #batfam week #i'm actually super proud of this one my dudes #so I hope y'all enjoy! #fanfic

[kindaangelic]

BatFam Week Day 5: Legacy

Na na na na na na na na na…BATFAM!

BatFam Week Day 5: Legacy

———

Day 5: Legacy

“Damian, what are you doing?” Bruce asked, wading through the pool of cloth that was surrounding his youngest.

“Tt. I am sewing, Father.”

“Don’t you *tt* at me,” Bruce seethed. “What are you sewing?”

“A costume for myself.” Damian stood up and guided his father to a chair, sat him down, and then climbed onto his lap and took Bruce’s face in his hands. “I want you to listen to me, Father. I am making my costume for when I shall pass on the mantle of Robin and adopt another identity.”

“Huh?”

“It is tradition to adopt another persona before finally stepping into the shoes of Batman. Grayson did it, and practically everyone else has their own superhero identities. I am getting on in age, Father - I am ten years old now. It is high time that I started planning for my future.”

Bruce held back the biggest grin throughout Damian’s speech, and adopted a faux serious expression to address him. “I see. Which persona will you choose?”

Damian held up a black, skin tight outfit with blue highlights that was clearly inspired by Wayne Manor’s resident sentimental blob. “I shall be the second Nightwing, and I will strike fear into the shriveled hearts of evildoers in my city!”

Bruce sat, shaking with silent mirth at Damian’s new identity. He pursed his lips and forced himself looked suitably sad. “Oh, I see. Very well, Damian,” he sighed theatrically, “I will let you go. I’ll have to just fly solo from now on. No Robin, no son, no…” Bruce trailed off sadly and stared into space. “I’ll be fine. It’s just…I thought that I would have a son who wanted to be with me for longer. But I guess I’m just going to have to get used to the fact that I’ll have to patrol alone now. All alone in Gotham, with no partner, no one to watch my back…oh well.”

Damian’s eyes widened until they looked more like coins and shook his head violently. “No father! I didn’t think of that! I can’t simply leave you all alone; after all, you are getting older-”

“Hey, now-”

“-and I cannot trust your deteriorating senses. No, I will stay with you until you inevitably get another child. What with Drake and Todd being virile males, and your compulsion to pick children up off the streets, it shouldn’t be that long, another three to four years at most-”

“It’s not a compulsion, that just makes it sound wrong-”

“-yes, yes, I see now what must be done. Don’t worry, Father, I won’t go anywhere,” Damian said, patting Bruce’s cheek tenderly. “I will find Todd or Drake and tell them to find potential children, either for you or for themselves to adopt. Don’t hassle yourself,” Damian said decisively, jogging out of the cave.

“What about Dick?”

Damian looked at Bruce like he had lost his mind. “Grayson will not be having any more children, not until I’m through with him. That will be for another eight years, and after that, he will be so fulfilled, he won’t want another.”

Bruce sat in his chair, slightly disturbed, as Damian ran out of the cave, yelling for Jason and Tim to gather quickly, as he had life changing plans for them.

————

“Bruce, why as Damian being leaving these pamphlets on my desk?” Tim asked tensely, smacking a stack of papers on Bruce’s desk.

Bruce picked one up and read, “Your Life with Children - Find Fulfillment in Adopting a Child and Embracing Motherhood,” Bruce muffled a laugh and laid down the pamphlet. “I guess Damian really wants to be an uncle.”

“Bruce!” Jason stormed into Bruce’s office, dragging a small, squeaking, redhead behind him. “What is this!?” He cried, pointing at little Colin Wilkes, who was looking adoringly at Jason.

“Damian said that you were gonna to adopt me, Mr. Hood,” Colin said in awe of the gun toting anti hero.

Bruce groaned and slapped a hand down his face. “Damian!” He roared. “Get in here now!”

Damian slunk in and stood next to Colin and nodded approvingly. “Ah, good, Colin’s adoption has been competed. Colin, from this day forward, I am your uncle. We will, of course, remain best friends forever.”

“Damian, you can’t decide who Jason decides to adopt, and even if he wants to adopt. He’s legally dead, for Gotham’s sake! Who let this happen?”

“Jason Todd may not be able to adopt, but my older brother Mason Podd, accountant at Wayne Enterprises certainly can. The press will easily accept that you’ve gone and adopted another child, Father, this will easily pass scrutiny. Now, Colin can begin training as Robin, and I will slowly transition into the role of Nightwing II.”

Jason and Tim gaped at the declaration while Bruce sat stunned. Colin looked as pleased as punch, and hugged Jason’s leg. “I’m going to get a family! This is so cool!”

Jason cleared his threat and looked pointedly at Damian. “Ok, let’s get something very clear. No kid of mine is going to be fucking Robin,” he said, glaring. “I don’t want Bruce giving them any ideas, like righteousness and shit. Any kids I have are going to be trained by me.”

“I’m not an adult yet, so I can’t adopt,” Tim chimed in.

“You can procreate and produce a child, can’t you?” Damian asked vehemently.

Tim shook his head. “Naw. I’m sterile.”

Bruce looked shocked at this information. “What?”

“When I rescued you from that time warp thing, the radiation basically killed my nads,” Tim shrugged. “I’m testing whether I got any meta powers from the radiation of time and space. So far, tests look promising.” Bruce looked apoplectic, and Tim continued. “That means that Damian can’t have anymore paternal siblings, because I’m pretty sure that you’re sterile too, Bruce. You didn’t even test positive for a meta gene, so you suck double now.”

Bruce glared at Tim and then at his own feeble testes. He was Batman, he should have been able to withstand a little radiation from the fabric of time and space, damnit! “You’re not a meta.”

“But I might get cool powers!”

“No.”

“Bruce, you’re so-”

“Silence!” Damian cried. “Cease your useless banter! It matters not that father cannot have another child of his loins! I told you that Colin will train to replace me, and I shall become the second Nightwing!”

Bruce looked at his tiny, seething, son, and picked him up. “What if I don’t want you to?” He asked.

Damian stopped flailing and looked up at Bruce in shock. “W-what?”

“I want you to be my Robin,” Bruce said softly. “Me and my little boy soaking across Gotham, watching each other’s backs and fighting crime together - that’s what I always thought we would do.”

Damian frowned. “But if I do not become Nightwing, how can I become Batman? The day is not far off when you will be too decrepit and old to carry the mantle-”

“Hey-”

“-which means that Grayson will take over. That means that I have to become Nightwing, and after Grayson retires, I have to be Batman.”

Bruce looked down at Damian and burst out laughing. “Being Nightwing isn’t a prerequisite to being Batman,” he laughed. “Dick was the ideal candidate at the time, but he hates the cowl. He just indulges his old father too much, bless him,” Bruce said with a smile. “Any one of my chidlren can take on the mantle if they so choose. Jason-“

“Hell no,” Jason scoffed. “I ain’t touching that suit. It’s probably got Bruce cooties on it.”

“Bruties,” Tims supplied helpfully, high fiving Jason.

Bruce silenced his sons with a glare. “Or Tim…”

“No thanks, I’m good,” Tim mumbled. “Angst isn’t a good look for me. I like a bit of colour in my outfits. You look like a smudge every night, B. It’s not a good look,” he informed his father.

“Fine, then, Cassandra!” Bruce decided. At that moment, his phone pinged. He opened up a new message from his daughter to a text that simply said, “No.” Bruce flung his phone down and looked at Damian. “What I mean is, you can be Batman if you can handle the weight of the cowl.”

Damian sat up straighter on Bruce’s lap, and looked him in the eye. “I will. I will follow in your footsteps and take over the cowl when my time comes, Father. I will make you proud!”

Bruce smiled down his son and ruffled his hair. “That’s my boy.”

———–

“Am I still being adopted?”

Jason looked incredulously at the small red headed child that had followed him home and sighed. “Kid, I’m nineteen, I ain’t adopting no one. Tim can fudge some paperwork and you can be my ward, if you really want to.”

Colin beamed at his new guardian. This was going to be the start of a wonderful new era.

———–

#batfamweek #batfamily #batman #batdad #bruce wayne #damian wayne #robin #jason todd #red hood #timothy drake #red robin #colin wilkes #dick grayson #nightwing #fluff #humour #crack #spontaneous adoption #adorable Damian

[rosewilsonworth]

Batfam Week: Happy Tim Drake icons requested by literati42

all of them are 240px like or reblog if you use. credit would be appreciated for requests click here

#batfamweek #comicedit #dc icons #my icons #tim drake #stephanie brown #conner kent #cassie sandsmark #* #100 #m: tim #m: timsteph #m: steph #m: kon #m: cassie #m: young justice

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

Nursing a Sick Bird

Batfam Week Day 4 is Hurt/Comfort. I’ve never done one before and I honestly don’t think that what I wrote is what is expected but oh well. So here, have sick Tim with big brother Dick. (Also I personally headcanon @audreycritter‘s wonderful OC Dev to be the family doctor in this but since he’s not mine and not DC’s I’m not going to play with him. So insert your favorite doc here!) As usual you can also read it here on my ao3. Rating: G Words: 2,254 Gen

Tim blamed his lack of spleen for these situations. With a weakened immune system he needed to take special care with his health, including a mix of vitamins and medications with his morning coffee. He visited the family doctor once a month to ensure that the balance was correct and to evaluate his blood work for any red flags. Sometimes though that wasn’t possible. Like right now.

He’d been curled up in bed for about a week, moving only to go to the bathroom and get himself a glass of water from the tap there. He had set his phone down on his nightstand without plugging it in to charge. That first day he ignored its incessant buzzing until Tim assumed the phone died as the buzzes had finally stopped. That first morning he hadn’t wanted to move. Aching all over and drenched with sweat, despite having kicked his sheets and comforter to the floor.

Now he forced himself to his feet, shuffling towards the kitchen and having to stop halfway. Sliding down the wall in the hallway Tim leaned his head back. This was the most movement he’d done in days and he felt like he wanted to puke. He knew that this was a gnarly case of the flu but he felt too bad to even call the doc, even though not doing so was only worsening it. Pushing himself to his feet Tim managed to make it as far as the island, where he bent to press his hot cheek against the cool counter. Taking a few breaths to steady himself Tim made a last push to the cabinet where he kept a stockpile of saltines.

Grabbing a box he stumbled to the couch that he then collapsed on. Tim made the executive decision that after so much work he earned a nap. Setting the box on the floor for later he rolled onto his side and promptly fell asleep.

Tim awoke to an earthquake with a jackhammer working on a slab in his temple. With a groan he opened his eyes to see Dick’s worried face swimming in front of him. The earthquake suddenly stopped as relief flooded Dick’s features. Tim realized that the shaking was just Dick trying to wake him but the construction crew in his skull was making it hard to think straight.

“Tim? Timmy? You with me little bro?” Dick asked, kneeling beside the couch.

Tim groaned as he wiped a hand down his face before using it to push his hair back. “Yeah,” he croaked.

“You eat anything?” Dick picked up the box of saltines and examined it.

“Nnnhnn. No. Headache.”

Dick gently pushed Tim’s hand off his forehead to feel it with the back of his own. “You’re burning up. How long have you been like this? Have you taken your meds? I know you missed your appointment the other day.”

Tim waved his hand vaguely at his brother. “Shhhh.” He closed his eyes and took in a deep shuddering breath. Trying to fight off the growing pain in his head. Tim laid like that for a few minutes, the only sound in the apartment was the hum of appliances and Tim and Dick’s breathing. Dick was combing his fingers through Tim’s grease and sweat streaked hair. Tim knew his brother wanted answers but he needed a minute to reorient himself.

“Can you get me a drink?” he finally asked.

“Sure thing,” Dick replied. Tim heard him stand and make his way to the kitchen. Opening the fridge and rifling around in it before closing the door and coming back to his post next to the couch. “Here,” Dick handed him a bottle of sports drink that Tim vaguely recalled buying.

Pushing himself up on the cushions he reached for the plastic bottle. Carefully unscrewing the top he took a sip, which turned into a swallow, and soon he was gulping down mouthfuls of the orange liquid.

“Better?” Dick asked with a small smile. He had perched himself on Tim’s cluttered coffee table. “Think you can handle some crackers?”

The hunger that had driven Tim from his room originally gnawed at him once again. He reached a hand out for the box. Dick popped open the cardboard seal and cut the plastic wrapping with a pocket knife that Tim had left laying among his paperwork on the table. Tim grabbed the crackers from him and started shoving saltines into his mouth.

“Whoa now, can’t have you choking.” Dick’s eyes had gone wide and he had made a move to take the box from Tim.

Tim responded with a face and slowed his chewing. He washed it down with another swig of drink before picking a single cracker out of the box and eyeing Dick over top of it.

His brother just laughed at him. “I’m sorry Tim, you look pitiful and you’re glaring at me. It’s cute.”

Tim wrinkled his nose and began nibbling his cracker.

“So? How long have you been on this couch? Cause you haven’t been answering your phone all week.”

Tim shook his head, then stopped because that made the headache that was starting to subside come back. “I was in bed. I came out here earlier to get food and couldn’t make it back.”

Dick’s eyes held pity, Tim hated being pitied but right now he felt too awful to care. “So you haven’t been taking your meds?” Dick pressed.

Tim gave a noncommittal grumble and now Dick just looked disappointed. Tim hated disappointing people even more than he hated being pitied. “I got home from work and was really tired and so I took a nap and woke up the next morning feeling even worse. This is the furthest I’ve moved from my bed.”

Dick nodded, not happy but at least understanding. “Do you have a thermometer around here?” he asked as he got up.

“In the bathroom, above the sink somewhere.” Dick left to get it and Tim collapsed against the couch. He nursed his saltines and drink until his brother came back with the thermometer in one hand and his phone in the other.

“Yeah B. I am. Look, I got this. Ok, I will.” Dick told the person on the other end before turning his attention back to Tim. “Bruce says he wants you to feel better and that when you’re up for moving that you’re welcome to stay at the manor. He went on that business trip this morning since we couldn’t get ahold of you and you missed your appointment yesterday.”

Tim groaned. He knew that there was something he had to do but the days had bled together into a mix of sleep, haze, and aches. “I’m sorry,” he muttered as Dick passed him the thermometer.

“For what? Looking like a zombie?”

“I’ve been to the bathroom, I know what I look like and it’s way worse than I’ve ever seen Jason.”

Dick let out a short laugh at that. “Ok, so you can’t be that sick.”

Tim stuck the thermometer in his mouth and shrugged. When it beeped he passed it to Dick without even bothering to look at it, knowing his brother was going to demand it anyway. Tim leaned his head back and closed his eyes, his headache and hunger had disappeared but now he just hurt and was getting suddenly cold. He pulled a blanket toward himself, getting an assist with it from Dick.

The older boy must have called someone else but Tim was tired again and didn’t really care. He let his brother’s voice wash over him as he talked.

“Hello? Yes, this is Dick Grayson I’m Timothy Drake-Wayne’s older brother, Yes, I spoke to him this morning about Tim and I’m actually with him now. Could you? Thanks.” There was a pause as Tim assumed the call was transferred. “Hey, it’s Dick. I got into Tim’s apartment and he’s a mess. Yeah. Fever of 100.7. He said he’s pretty much been sleeping all week. Um, aches, headache, I’m guessing chills cause he just burittoed himself in a blanket and he’s got a crazy fever. No he hasn’t, he says this is the first he’s left his room. Yeah. Some sports drink and crackers. I think just water. I mean, it looks like he’s asleep again…” Tim rolled his head back and forth, indicating that he was not asleep. “Up, nope he’s awake, just has his eyes closed. Yeah, I can do that. Ok. Thanks, man.”

Tim squinted at his brother as he sat down on the couch beside him. “Am I going to the hospital?” he mumbled halfheartedly.

“You are not going anywhere. Eat more and then I’m going to have you take some aspirin to try and break the fever. After that you’re getting a shower, you stink.” Dick grinned and Tim meant to swat at his brother but instead ended up leaning against him.

“Ok,” he sighed as Dick tucked another blanket around him. “Can I nap after taking the aspirin and before taking the shower though?”

Dick chuckled. “Of course. Now do you think you can hold down some soup?”

Tim gave a shrug that just loosened his mummy like blanket wrappings. He frowned as he made an attempt to fix them. “I can try. Bring a garbage can though just in case. The place is a mess as is.” Tim leaned his head on his brother’s shoulder, feeling the other man’s frame shake with laughter.

“I will. And speaking of mess, if you’re going to nap I’m going to wash your sheets.”

“Why?” Tim lifted his head to look at Dick, his brows knitted together.

“Because, if you’ve been living in them all week and this is the state you’re in? Hoo boy. Also, I’m charging your phone. You can’t just drop off the face of the earth like this.” Dick pushed himself to his feet, presumably to start the chores he had tasked for himself.

Tim grumbled at his brother’s last comment.

Dick turned to him with a tight expression. “No. Don’t even. Tim, you’ve been pulling this kind of crap on us for a while now but ever since you lost your spleen it’s become serious. By not keeping in contact you put yourself at a serious health risk! Not to mention the emotional stress you put the rest of us through. I thought that we were on better terms now, I know that they’re not what they where and I wish they would be but you’ve gotta let me in for that to happen Tim. I realize this was an accident, that you didn’t mean to get horribly ill and for your phone to die. I’m not mad and especially not about that. I just… I dunno. Next time call? Text? Answer your phone? Tell me where you are or will be and if and when you’ll be dropping off the map? That way I can get to you sooner.” His flare of anger dissipated as he ran his hands through his hair. “You’re my little brother and I honestly don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you.”

Tim opened his mouth but when no words came he closed it and bit his lower lip instead. He nodded slowly and began wiggling loose of the blanket pile. Carefully getting to his feet Tim shuffled the two steps closer to Dick and wrapped his older brother in a hug. After a second Dick’s arms rose to hug Tim back.

“I’m sorry,” he said into Dick’s shoulder. “I didn’t think. I’m sorry.”

Dick squeezed him tighter. “I know and it’s ok. I’m here now and we’re going to get you better and that’s all that matters.”

They stood like that for another minute before Tim’s stomach growled and broke the silence. Dick laughed as he let go and ruffled Tim’s dirty hair. Tim smirked and returned to his position on the couch.

“I’m guessing you can handle some soup,” Dick said with a smirk.

Tim smiled back. “I guess.”

While Dick wasn’t known for having good culinary skills he could still make a can of chicken noodle soup which Tim eagerly slurped up and managed to hold down. Tim took the aspirin Dick had found before settling in for a nap, when he awoke the apartment had been visibly straightened up. His papers were neatly stacked rather than scattered piles. The mound of dishes in the sink had been washed and put away. Tim could hear the sound of the vacuum in his bedroom.

Getting up, he wrapped the blankets around himself and headed that way. Standing in the doorway he could see Dick vacuuming the carpet of his bedroom, his bed freshly made.

“Did you do all this?” he asked once Dick had turned the vacuum off.

His brother turned to him with a smile. “Yeah, you’ve been out a good two hours Timbo. Now go, shower. Those blankets are the next things to be washed. You can’t get better with germs still hanging around.

“You sound like Alfred.”

Dick shrugged. “What can I say, I learned from the best. How are you feeling?”

Tim smiled. “Much better actually.”

“Good! Now shoo. And when you’re done we’re working out a plan so this doesn’t happen again.”

“Agreed. But, can you still drop by and clean my apartment? For someone who never cleans their own you do a decent job.”

Dick laughed. “You just answered your own question. Now go, I wasn’t kidding when I said you stink.”

#batfamweek #dc comics #writing #own writing #my fic #batman #batfamily #tim drake #dick grayson #hurt/comfort #sick fic #kinda #i guess? #batbros #angst #i guess? maybe

[audreycritter]

Jason Todd finds old voicemails left for the boy who died. For Legacy day of Batfam Week 2017. Angst with happy ending, dealing with topics of child loss and grief.

#Jason todd #batman #Bruce wayne #batfamweek #batfam #ficblogging