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The afternoon is perfect. Kory is sunning herself on the Titans roof, half their friends are enjoying the cool-down after a particularly energetic mission, and Dick got to lead his first mission with his Titans.
It’s just his luck that he gets a call from Gotham less than an hour into this perfect afternoon. If it had been Bruce, or even Alfred or Tim or Babs, Dick wouldn’t have thought anything of it.
But it’s Damian. And Damian is wondering where he is.
Kory doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss -- not at first.
Which is why Dick hates having to ruin her day. He wishes, selfishly, that it had been Bruce who called, and that he’d called publicly, even on the Titans live broadcast. That way, everyone would know that this wasn’t Dick’s choice.
But it wasn’t Bruce who wanted him there. It was Damian. And whatever Damian had said about being fine in Gotham, Dick knew that tone in his voice. He knew that his little brother (his son) was upset, and that he felt abandoned.
Which meant Dick had agreed to be there by the end of the day--
Which meant Dick had to break it to the rest of his team.
And more importantly, to Kory.
They’re still on the rooftop, with their team’s banter in the background. Dick keeps his voice hushed, not wanting to make more of a scene than he has to.
He’s already broken the news -- already said those awful five words, ‘I’m going back to Gotham.’
But Kory hasn’t said a word.
“I promise,” Dick says. “It’s just for the weekend.”
Kory’s mouth is shut so tight it may as well be sealed. A silent Kory isn’t necessarily an angry Kory -- she’ll shout and fly away to tear up monsters when she’s really mad. But this doesn’t look good for him, either.
The trouble is, he’d already promised her that he wouldn’t go back to Gotham unless someone was dying. And yet here he was, trying to negotiate to go back already, only a few weeks after he’d returned to Jump City.
“If it was just about getting my stuff from Gotham, you know I’d have just asked Alfred to ship it out, or for Tim to bring it back on his way back here.”
“Then what is this about?”
The first thing she’s said since he broke the news. At least she isn’t being silent anymore. Dick tries not to look too relieved -- after all, there’s a good chance this will turn into a real fight.
“Damian,” Dick says. The one rationale that Kory will forgive. And in his heart of hearts, he knows it’s not just about Damian. He also needs to say goodbye to Alfred; to explain why he’s not coming back for a while. And, far more terrifying, to tell Bruce that he’s not going to be Batman again, and that he’s taking his son back to Jump City.
Dick sees the fight in her eyes dim. “And you will be bringing him back here?” she asks -- too measured. Too careful. “At the end of the weekend, he will be here, so you do not have to return?”
“Kory…” Dick takes a seat on the edge of her sunning chair. “I’ve already chosen to stay here with you. You don’t have to be so scared of losing me again. I promise you, I’m coming back.”
Phrased like that, Kory must know that she’s being -- at least a little bit -- unreasonable. But Dick will admit she’s right to worry. The idea of going back to Gotham and undoing all the work he’s put into finding himself again… it makes his stomach sink. He hates the thought of Bruce asking him to give up Kory. Hates the thought of him not being happy for Dick, and for the family he’s grown.
And he’s terrified that Bruce won’t let Damian come back with him.
Kory must see that fear in his face, because her expression softens. She reaches up to cup his cheek. “I trust you,” she says. And Dick knows that if he gets pressured into staying, those words will haunt him more than any ‘I love you.’ Maybe that’s why she says them. She always could read him well. And she’s known for years that in Gotham, trust is equivalent to love, and trust can twist him up inside more than anything that passes for Gotham love.
He leans in to kiss her, and she lets him.
Dick pulls away all too soon, but he does let his hand linger on the swell of her stomach. “I’ll be back for the both of you,” he says, more confidently this time. “If I’m not, assume I’ve been kidnapped.”
It finally gets Kory to crack a smile. She pulls him back in for one more goodbye kiss -- more passionate and wanting.
Dick smiles into it. Then he moves half into her lap, lips shifting to just below her ear.
“I already got my tickets,” he says -- which makes Kory pause for a moment, conflicted. It is perhaps the least sexy thing he could have said. That is, until Dick playfully continues, “I don’t have to leave for another hour and a half.”
They’re interrupted by a loud “Get a room!” from across the rooftop.
Dick grins over at Victor. “All part of the plan.” He winks at Kory, then moves off of her lap. She hesitates for just a moment, and Dick realizes that she might actually need help. He’ll let the team tease her about it later -- Dick simply helps her out of her sunning chair until she’s solidly on her feet.
“Not a word,” she murmurs into his ear. Even now that she’s upright, she seems off-balance. She rests a hand on her stomach, their daughter always just a hair away from throwing her off balance. “Or else.”
“I have no idea what you mean, my love.” Dick smiles, then slips a hand into hers -- all too ready to lead her back to their room. “But I would love to see you take up that threat. Sounds hot.”
Kory huffs, but she doesn’t pull her hand away. “Richard Grayson,” she says, exasperated -- “You are truly the worst.”
“And entirely yours all the same.”
--
When Dick gets off the plane, that fear is back with a vengeance. But it lessens when he sees Damian standing next to Bruce and Tim. Even Alfred and Cass have come to pick him up -- which makes him beyond suspicious. Something’s up.
He wonders if this is Bruce’s way to convince him to stay at home. The idea that his entire family is here.
It’s tempting -- but it’s wrong. Kory is still in Jump. And he knows good and well that Tim thinks of the Titans as family, too -- and he also knows that Cass would probably follow Tim to the ends of the Earth, let alone Jump. Dick won’t be manipulated this easily.
He accepts the usual hug from Cass and Tim, then a separate one from Alfred, along with the perfunctory head-nod and shoulder touch from Bruce.
Then, Damian.
Dick leans down and opens his arms, and tries not to melt when Damian, for all the anger and hurt and fear bottled up inside of him, launches himself into the hug. Dick wraps his arms around him tightly.
“I did not think you were coming back,” Damian says -- stiffly, despite how small and vulnerable he seems in his arms.
Dick gently ruffles his hair. “I did, though. I always come back for you, kiddo.”
Damian doesn’t say anything. Instead, he reluctantly lets go, aware that he’s made a scene. Dick gives a sharp look to the rest of his family to be sure no one had made him feel bad for it -- but no one seems guilty of anything. He lets his shoulders relax.
“So,” Dick says, keeping one hand steadily on Damian’s shoulder. “Where to?”
“The Manor, of course,” Alfred says.
“Not somewhere for lunch? And here I thought we’d be celebrating.”
He says it pointedly, his free hand on his hip. Bruce, who is in public and therefore equal parts Bruce and Brucie, lets his smile freeze on his face. It’s as good as a glare, but Dick doesn’t let it intimidate him. He stares right back, his Richie Grayson smile masking just as much anger.
Times like these, he understands why apes bare their teeth to signal an attack.
Dick has never been the one to blink first. But Damian tugs on his shirt, and Dick glances down to find Damian with a sour look on his face. “Celebrating what?” he asks. “No one has told me that there is cause for celebration.”
Bruce -- no, Brucie -- laughs. He steps forward and ruffles Damian’s hair, channeling the pretty-boy that’s kept Gotham’s tabloids busy for the last twenty years. “Richie is home, Damian. That’s celebration enough, isn’t it?”
Dick really, really wants to make a scene.
If he comes right out and announces that his girlfriend is pregnant, his family wouldn’t be able to deny it. There would be outcry if Dick didn’t return to Kory.
But unfortunately, that would come with a risk of unmasking.
And that’s the one thing he won’t do today. So instead, he keeps that Richie Grayson smile plastered on his face, and none too gently pulls Bruce in for a hug. “You softie,” he says, loudly enough for any paparazzi to hear. But then he drops his voice low, for just Bruce to hear. “I’m not playing your games, Bruce.”
“Then stop causing a scene and save it for the manor,” Bruce replies, in that same low tone. Any other day it would send chills up Dick’s spine to hear such an obvious threat. Today though, he has a plan and he’s sticking to it.
They let go at the same time, and Dick takes his spot next to Damian again. Dick catches Bruce’s eye, lingering on his proximity. But he doesn’t make a scene.
Instead, he turns and starts for the car. The rest of the family follows, and Dick is coldly aware that although the others came to visit, they’re here as accessories. No one’s really said anything but him and Bruce, save Damian. Which makes it all too clear that they’re here to convince him to stay. It’ll take some time to figure out what everyone else’s real feelings are. But Dick has a feeling that they aren’t as committed to Bruce’s plans as Bruce would hope.
--
The Manor is almost exactly as Dick left it. Unsurprising, since he was here just a few weeks ago.
His family is where the real change lies.
Dick has never seen a group of vigilantes so sullen and quiet at dinner. They’re barely eating -- which is honestly upsetting, considering dinner smells great, and there are two teenagers at the table. Cass and Tim ought to be helping themselves to everything. But instead, they’re as quiet as everyone else.
Dick can’t really fault them. He’s been quiet and sullen, too. But at least his silence is civil disobedience.
“Alfred made your favorite,” Bruce says, when the atmosphere has finally gotten quiet enough to hear a pin drop. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Cut the bullshit and get to what you’re really after, Bruce.”
Dick’s surprised to hear himself say it.
Apparently a few weeks with Kory haven’t cured him of his cutting anger. If anything, they reminded him that anger isn’t necessarily wrong, when it’s got the right target. And Bruce is anything but innocent.
“Language,” Bruce says -- like it matters. Like they haven’t all heard worse, and mainly from each other. Dick raises both brows at him. “Dick. Just eat, damn it. Then we’ll talk.”
“What is this, a hostage situation?” Dick stabs at his shepherd’s pie. “I came willingly .”
Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose. Dick wonders if he’s regretting coming back from the dead. It’s not a great thought, and Dick regrets it as soon as it comes. If Bruce hadn’t come back, Kory might not have told him about their daughter at all.
Finally, Bruce pushes his chair back from the table. “Dick. Office -- now.”
Dick raises his brows. Is he a dog, now? But like Pavlov’s dog, he stands up as soon as he’s asked.
“Thank you for dinner,” he says to Alfred as he passes through the kitchen, plate in hand.
Alfred stares at the half-untouched plate. “Shall I reheat it for you in an hour, sir?”
Dick shakes his head. “I don’t think I’ll have much of an appetite by then. But thanks.”
Alfred nods stiffly. Then, he places a hand on his shoulder. “Congratulations, my boy.”
It should be a more heartwarming moment than it feels. Dick’s pretty sure that’s Bruce’s fault, for making this into such an orchestration.
“Thanks, Alfred.” He manages a half smile. Then, he goes the rest of the way to Bruce’s office. They’ve got things to discuss.
--
“How long will you be in Gotham?”
They’ve been sitting here for almost five full minutes.
For once, Dick wasn’t the one to break first. He tries not to smile. “Just the weekend. I’m already here, so I may as well get my things.”
Bruce nods. Slowly -- contemplatively. “And you’re serious about this.”
“I’m having a kid, Bruce. What did you expect?”
He frowns. “She could have relocated to Gotham.”
“Go to hell. She needs sunlight to survive -- ever wonder why Clark never settled down in Gotham?” Dick snaps. “And even if she could, you’ve been very clear about ‘no metas in Gotham’. You wouldn’t have welcomed her, even if she’s the mother of my child.”
“And is that all she is?”
Dick’s jaw flexes. “No. But even if she was, it’d still be reason enough to move in with her.”
Bruce runs a hand through his hair. It shows Dick just how much gray has gotten into the usual jet black. He feels guilty only for an instant. “The week before you took off with Clark, you told me you were planning on staying in Gotham for good.”
“And then I found out my girlfriend was pregnant, and I had to make other plans.” Dick crosses his arms over his chest. “You aren’t normally this obtuse. What is it you’re trying to ask?”
“Damian,” Bruce says. “You’re just going to leave him here?”
At least they’re on the same page about how much Damian deserves to be around Dick. Unfortunately, Dick has a feeling it won’t be enough by itself. “I admit it’s not ideal,” he says -- testing the waters for now. “How has he been?”
Bruce’s lips set into a line. “He’s been asking about you.”
“Yeah -- but what else?”
“He’s…” Bruce runs a hand through his hair again. Dick feels less guilty for the gray. Half of the stress in Bruce’s life came from his own doing -- Dick’s done pitying him for it. “He’s temperamental.”
“No shit. He was abused until he was nine. Then you got custody, and immediately died. And then I had to leave for a few weeks, without knowing when I’d be back. Of course he’s temperamental .”
“He was better when you were here.”
“Because I’m the one adult in his life he knows he can trust,” Dick says. He keeps his voice flat, because if he doesn’t, he’ll start shouting. “Have you at least been spending time with him the last few weeks while I’ve been away?”
Bruce goes quiet.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I don’t know him the way you do.”
“But you could. If you tried, you could. I laid the groundwork -- I told him what you were like when I was a kid, so he could at least grow up with happy stories instead of the few, not-so-happy, memories he had of you. And when you came back, I did my goddamn best to make it a happy reunion. You’re telling me you did nothing with that?”
“I’m not you,” Bruce snaps. “I had work to do. I was returning from the dead, Dick. What did you expect me to do? Drop everything just to focus on--”
“To focus on your son ?” Dick snaps. “Yeah. Yeah, I did. Or I hoped you would.”
That, at least, seems to cow him. Bruce looks away. But he’s stiff and tense, and in turn, it makes Dick stiff and tense. He doesn’t fear Bruce getting violent towards him, not exactly. But he’d be stupid if he didn’t think of it as a possibility.
But instead, Bruce just sits down heavily in his office chair. It’s a monumental thing -- imposing as the rolling thrones they have in the boardroom of Wayne Enterprises. But this isn’t a business. It’s family. Dick just hopes Bruce remembers that.
Bruce steeples his fingertips, elbows on the edge of his desk. “...Why did you come back, Dick?”
“Damian asked me to.”
“And so you returned. Just like that.” Bruce narrows his eyes. “And you’ll leave, and return, and leave again whenever he asks?”
“Ideally? No.”
“Then what is it you hope to do?”
“Take him with me.”
Dick says it without even bracing for it. Without meaning to play all his cards at once. Without even holding his breath for the storm that will doubtlessly follow. He has a feeling he’ll regret how impulsive he’s been tonight.
He already does, when he sees the shadow that’s crossed Bruce’s face.
“You’re not serious.”
“You were just complaining how you don’t know how to raise your kid without me there. Well, I’m offering to raise him for you. Completely.”
“He’s my son.”
“Biologically, sure. But everyone in this house was adopted.”
“I-“
“ Alfred ,” Dick snaps, before Bruce can even try to deny that Alfred was his father. “Be honest with me, Bruce. Why are you against this?”
“He should be in Gotham.”
“And ideally he would be. But I have another kid to raise, and I’m not letting Kory fall to the wayside again.” Dick shakes his head. “There’s no perfect outcome. You are going to have to compromise , for once in your life. Because it’ll feel a hell of a lot worse when Damian gets hurt and runs away, instead of leaving now with your blessing.”
“I would never hurt him.”
“I think it’s pretty telling that you’re the first danger your mind jumped to.” Dick looks Bruce straight in the eye; Bruce blinks first. With one challenge won, Dick leans against the front of the desk, bracing himself to be vulnerable, even though his father doesn’t deserve it. “...It wrecked me the first time Damian got injured on patrol. When I benched him so he could heal, he threatened to run away. It was a miracle he didn’t. You think he’s going to stay here in Gotham when he gets benched? When you understand him even less than I do? Not a chance.” Dick shakes his head, waits for Bruce to say a word. But he’s silent. So stone-faced that even Dick can't tell what he's thinking. “...Like I said. It’ll feel worse if he leaves on bad terms. I’m giving you the option to let him go now. That way he'll always see Gotham as a home he can return to, instead of running away and avoiding it til he's twenty.”
Bruce bristles at the memory — at Dick’s audacity, to bring up how he’d run away when he was sixteen. “Damian isn’t you.”
“Sure he’s not. But he’s not you, either. It won’t kill him to live in Jump for a while.”
“And it won’t kill him to live here, and only here.”
Dick raises his brows. “Yeah? How's your track record with that?”
Bruce’s jaw flexes. It’s a cruel thing to say and Dick knows it. He isn’t wrong though, and he doesn’t regret it. Not yet. Not ever, if it lets him walk out of here with Damian in tow.
Again -- Bruce blinks first.
He sits down in his office chair again, every inch a tired old man who just came back from the dead. He’s barely fifty, but somehow, he looks older. Dick wonders if time passed differently when he was lost in time. Or maybe he looked this old before, and Dick just hadn’t been paying attention. Maybe he just hadn’t lost the hero worship until it was too late.
Still -- it doesn’t sway him. Doesn’t make him apologize, or soften his words. Instead, Dick just steels his resolve.
“You already know I’m good with him, Bruce. And once you’re better, maybe we can talk about you being his dad again. But right now, you aren’t what he needs.”
“And you are?”
“I’m not perfect, but I do my best. I was there for him this past year. He knows me. He trusts me.”
It’s the last sentence, Dick knows, that really gets to Bruce. Trust might as well mean ‘love’ in this household.
But that’s what Dick wants to fix.
Damian should be raised in a house where love means love — where it isn’t something that has to be earned or fought for.
So he fixes that, here and now. “I love him and I let him know it, no strings attached. Can you say the same for yourself?”
Bruce just looks stonily away.
“You had loving parents, once,” Dick says, when Bruce stays silent. “And when you adopted me, you passed that love onto me. Same with Jason. You were a good dad for a while. But you changed, Bruce. You aren’t that good father any more.” Any other time, for any other reason, Dick would have given him a lie to soften the blow. Even a little one. Something to steer him in the right direction without hurting him. But he can’t do it. Damian’s future is on the line, and that isn’t something Dick is going to risk. Still -- he can’t stand the look on Bruce’s face. Especially when it’s Dick who put it there. “I’m not doing this to hurt you, Bruce. So if you’re angry with me, that’s fine. But don’t deny Damian this. He deserves to grow up loved.”
Bruce sucks in a breath like he’s been punched. “I do. I do , Dick.”
“But you can’t say the actual word. Which means you’re a long way from showing it. I can’t make a gamble like that with Damian.” He swallows. “So. What are you going to choose, Bruce?”
Bruce stands to his feet.
Dick prepares for a fight -- for Bruce to physically force him into submission. He might be able to, even now. Dick has been spending the last few months trying to lose the muscle he built up as Batman, and Bruce has been maintaining it. Recovering. Staying a massive, hulking shadow that’s ready to terrorize criminals until his true dying day.
But Dick can be terrifying in his own way. He will be, if he has to.
Plus, they both know that if Bruce hits him, if he physically hurts him in any way, he’ll lose any claim he has on Damian. If Dick gets a bruise out of it, so be it.
But even the thought is absurd. They both know Bruce won’t attack him. He never has and never will.
So instead of an attack, instead of a fistfight, Bruce pulls him in for a hug.
It’s a little too tight -- enough that Dick wonders for a second if it’s meant to be a grapple after all. But finally, Bruce releases him and places a hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t want to fight you over this, Dick. But I will if you take him away completely. I’m not Talia or Ra’s. I’m not a monster . I still want to see him. He’s still my son, and I deserve the chance to let him be.”
“He’ll still see you,” Dick promises. “And he’ll see you even more once you’re feeling more -- like yourself. If you can get back to the man who raised me and Jason, then I won’t have any trouble bringing him back around, even without me there to mediate.”
Bruce takes a deep breath through his nose. Then, he says the one little word that finally lessens the pressure on Dick’s chest. “Fine,” he says -- and Dick can breathe again. “Fine. We’ll hash out the details as they come, but... I’ll do it.”
Dick launches himself in for a hug. Bruce hesitates -- having already used up one of his yearly hugs already, and in the last five minutes, no less. But eventually, he wraps his arms around his eldest.
“What exactly does getting me back on the right track look like?” Bruce finally asks, almost a full minute into the contact.
“A lot like this,” Dick says. “But with kids other than just me. Maybe start with Cass, if Babs hasn’t adopted her out from under you yet.”
“Babs never--”
Dick pulls back just enough to raise a brow at his dad. “She lived at the Clocktower for six months and only joined you on missions. That’s the definition of adopting someone out from under you.”
Bruce grunts. “In that case, tell me -- how long did Tim live with Kory and the Titans?”
It’s a low blow. But Dick and Bruce have always known what hurts the other the worst.
“I’m letting that slide for now, but you’re on thin ice, old man,” Dick says -- but the comparison still stings. At least Tim was his little brother more than his kid. Damian is different. Damian’s still a child. Dick’s child, now. It makes his heart feel a little warmer just thinking it.
Dick pulls the rest of the way back, then looks up at his dad. “We’re gonna figure this out,” he says. “With Tim and Cass and Damian and everyone.”
Bruce hums. “And Jason,” he says. Dick winces. Another loose end that he should have gotten to while Bruce was dead. Another family member that he wishes he’d been there for, instead of the many ways things went wrong during the battle for the cowl.
“...And Jason,” Dick acknowledges. “But one relationship repaired at a time. Damian just happened to be first.”
“I think you might have fixed a few others beforehand, chum.” Bruce claps a hand on Dick’s shoulder. Then, finally, the words that Dick should have heard ages ago. “Congratulations. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. And I’m sorry I have no advice about babies. You’d think, having five children, but…”
“So I shouldn’t invite you to babysit til she’s out of diapers.” Dick huffs a laugh. “Got it.”
His smile is a little strained, even with the lighthearted atmosphere. Bruce must know it, or at least know how he’s contributing to it, because he clears his throat and takes a step back.
“Will you be telling Damian about the new arrangement, or will I?”
It’s a good question. And an important thing to strategize, because there are a thousand ways this can go wrong. Some of it immediately, some of it further down the line. It turns Dick’s stomach to think of all the ways that Damian might resent Dick, or Bruce, or both of them, for what they’ve decided tonight.
“I’ll tell him first,” Dick finally decides. “So that he can know that he’s with me because I want him and I’m fighting for him. If you broke the news, it… it might not come across like that. It might seem more like you’re getting rid of him.”
Bruce’s mouth sets back into a line. “Yes. But he’s smart. He might come to the same conclusion regardless of when I talk to him.”
“Then tell him the truth. After I talk to him, just tell him. All of it. Warts and all.”
Bruce grimaces at the expression. “Everything?”
“Everything. With emphasis on the fact that you love him, but you’ve got to get help for your PTSD before you can be the dad he needs.”
“And you?”
Dick raises a brow. “What about me?”
“You aren’t immune to trauma either. You’re still the best candidate for Damian -- I’m not arguing that. I just want to be sure you’re getting what you need. For both his sake and yours.” Bruce pauses. “And your daughter’s.”
Just like that, Dick feels caught. He ducks his head, neck between his ears. Then, he rubs the back of his neck and hesitantly looks back towards the door -- as though this was the part of the conversation he should be worried someone would overhear. But he shakes it off just as quickly as it came on. “It’s a work in progress,” he admits. “But I’ve got a handle on it.”
“And your definition of a ‘handle’ is…?”
“My girlfriend is great at emotions, and my friends aren’t going to let me screw this up.” He pauses -- looks up at Bruce and the almost fatherly look on his face. “Apparently my family won’t either.”
Bruce has the audacity to smile. “We won’t,” he says. “Now go break the news to Damian. Ten to one, someone overheard. And I’d rather him hear it from you than from an eavesdropper.”
Dick nods. He’s tempted to lean in for another hug, but Bruce is right. They’ve pushed their timing as it is.
With that, he sets off to find Damian, and hopes that his little brother -- that his son in all but name -- will be receptive.
--
Damian is in the cave when Dick finds him.
He’s pulling on his suit, which means it’s either far later than he thought and time for patrol, or Damian is trying, yet again, to slip out without anyone knowing, for a solo patrol. Dick’s heart breaks as he thinks of how many times that might have happened while he’s been in San Francisco. But Dick tries not to think about it right now.
Instead, he thinks about how that’s going to be changing, starting today.
Dick slips into the shadows behind him and tugs on his cape.
Damian, predictably, jumps. He whirls around, his ten years and fury perfectly contrasted in those chubby cheeks. Dick grins at him and ruffles his hair despite the risk of violent retribution. Not that it’s much of a risk anymore. Damian merely ducks out from under his hand and grumbles as he fixes his hair.
“What is the point of this affection?” Damian demands -- far more grumbly than normal.
Dick’s heart about melts. “It’s good news,” he says. “First, congratulations. You’re gonna be a big brother.”
Damian freezes. “What? Is mother…?”
“Nothing like that, little D.”
“Then, is father…?”
“ Kory is having a baby, with me ,” Dick explains, before Damian can look distressed for too long. Damian starts to look confused, when Dick simplifies it for him. “You’re coming home with me. You can be more like her uncle than her brother if you want. It’s your choice. But you’re my Robin, Damian. And just because Bruce is back doesn’t change that I care about you, and I want you in my life, as my kid. If you want to stay in Gotham, I won’t force you into anything. But… I want you to come to San Francisco with me. To Jump City.”
Damian stares up at him with those big brown eyes that Dick is terrified to disappoint. Terrified to see well up with tears, though Damian rarely cries.
He doesn’t say anything, though. Only stares.
Then, with a terribly small voice, he asks, “Your kid?”
“If you want to be.” Dick pauses. “I know Bruce is back and that has to be really, really confusing for you. I get that. I’m not trying to replace him. I just need you to know that you’ll always have a place with me. I need to be in Jump City now that Kory and I are having a baby -- but that doesn’t mean you can’t come with me.”
Dick watches as Damian bites the inside of his cheek.
“What about…” Damian trails off into something too soft for Dick to make out.
Dick leans in closer. “Can you say that again?”
“I said - what about being Robin?”
Dick blinks at him. “Would that really change?”
“Drake is Robin in Jump City,” Damian says. “I… I will not evict him from his home. Or his title.”
And just like that, Dick’s heart almost bursts. Damian has come a long, long way from demanding to be the sole Robin and of the only importance to Dick or Bruce or anyone in Gotham. His empathy and heroism and compassion have evolved far beyond Dick’s highest hopes. Damian barely even knows Tim, yet he cares about his predecessor’s feelings enough to make them a priority. Dick couldn’t possibly be more proud.
Dick can’t hide his proud smile. “We’ll figure it out. I’ll admit it’s not a perfect solution. I’m not kidnapping you away from Gotham, either. You’re always welcome to come back and spend time with Bruce, as Robin or as Damian. But I want you to live with me in Jump. As long as that’s what you want, I mean.” He pauses, sudden fear creeping into the back of his mind. There’s a small chance he misread everything; a small chance that Damian doesn’t want him to be his dad at all. Dick looks down at his little brother, his could-be, might-be son, and asks the hardest question he’s asked in ages. “... Is this what you want?”
Damian’s eyes well up. For a split second, Dick thinks that he’s messed up big time. That Damian is refusing, and that Dick will have years of apologizing and making up to do to smooth this over. But then, Damian surges forward, and Dick catches him in what must be his favorite hug of all time.
He presses his cheek around Damian’s shoulder, never minding how the armor digs into his face. “Is that a yes?”
“Tt. Of course I agree.”
Damian’s voice is curiously choked, and Dick carefully checks that he’s not choking his son within the first thirty seconds of making it official. But when he’s sure that it’s just a lump in Damian’s throat, he relaxes. “Good,” Dick says. “Good. Because if you’d said no, I think Kory might have killed me.”
Damian huffs. “It would be foolish to murder the father of one’s child,” he mutters against Dick’s shoulder. “...She would have maimed you at worst.”
Dick rolls his eyes, then gives his little brother another squeeze. “Glad you’re handling the news well,” he teases. “Hope you don’t mind waking up at all hours for the baby, squirt.”
Damian’s face turns into a grimace -- but Dick knows him well enough to know it’s teasing; not Damian’s real disgusted face. “...How binding is this decision I’ve made?”
“Don’t be rude. That’s no way to talk about your little sister.”
And just like that, Damian’s face lights up. “...Your alien hybrid offspring… is a girl?”
“Yes.” Dick squints. “At least, that’s what the ultrasound seems to say. Kory said it was a girl even before the ultrasound, but I’m not sure if she’s messing me with the whole, ‘Tamaraneans always know’ thing.”
Damian furrows his brow. “Regardless... I will be her older brother?”
Dick ruffles his hair. “Yeah, Damian. You’ll be her older brother.” When he sees the joy that Damian tries to conceal, Dick grins. “You wanna be the first to know her name?”
Damian can’t nod fast enough. He doesn’t even verbalize his yes, which might just be the cutest thing Dick’s ever seen.
“Mar’i,” Dick says. “Mar’i And’r-Grayson. And you’ll get to meet her in less than two months, if Kory’s timing is right.” He pauses. “So. You ready to be a big brother?”
Damian’s tiny, uncertain “yes” is everything.
--
Bonus: Damian meeting Kory.
Dick and Damian, true to the Dynamic Duo’s form, are packed up within the weekend. Damian leaves many of his things back in Gotham, because he does plan to go back and forth fairly often. He loves Alfred and Bruce, as well as all his animals, but it’s obvious to everyone -- even himself, at ten and three quarters -- that Grayson is the father figure who cares most for him.
It might make most children sad to not feel loved by their biological family. But Damian knows he’s been fought for by most of his parents. And though his biological father lost that battle for now, he is not so incompetent or unfeeling that he can’t see Damian. Not like his grandfather. Instead, Damian can live with Grayson for as long as he wishes, and have the benefit of returning home to Gotham as often as he chooses.
Drake will have a similar schedule. But he, being older, will be a free agent and will have far less scrutiny.
But instead of patrolling as Robin, Drake will be Nightwing for a majority of Mar’i’s early years, to give Dick’s identity and alter ego plenty of media separation. It also means that there is no trouble with Damian and Drake being in the same city at the same time. A fact which allows them to finally meet, with a little more breathing room -- without secret identities hanging between them.
Most importantly however, Damian will soon be meeting Koriand’r.
She is no mother to him -- but she is carrying the child that will become Damian’s younger sister. And he will admit that Grayson loves her, and that is enough to earn Damian’s trust.
Damian can’t help but feel nervous.
Dick had been preparing for a carefully staged meeting the entire flight to San Francisco. But the instant they landed on the roof, he had been swept away by his feelings and rushed to meet his girlfriend on the roof.
Their shared kiss is passionate enough that Damian looks away.
He’s half tempted to sneak downstairs to give them the privacy that they so clearly crave. But before he can figure out his exit strategy, Koriand’r pulls away and steps towards him. She really is pregnant -- not that Damian had any doubts. Dick would not have dropped everything for a lie. Damian trusts him well enough for that.
Her alien pregnancy doesn’t look all that different from a human one. He knows his own anatomy is odd, but perhaps someday he will ask about Koriand’r’s. After all, his sister will be part Tamaranean. Damian should learn about her unique medical and physiological needs before they arrive. If he is to care for her, to be her big brother, then he must make sure that Mar’i’s mother trusts him as much as Grayson does.
It is with this in mind that he bows, stiffly, to the alien princess.
His face flushes when he realizes that Koriand’r is only staring at him with a tilted head. “Is this a normal greeting after all?” she asks. “Dick, you swore that humans used handshakes!”
“I -- Damian!” Dick looks beyond baffled. At least he looks as flustered as Damian feels. “Just shake her hand, kiddo. You don’t have to be nervous.”
The word kiddo is not the affectionate nickname that Damian likes best. It only serves to embarrass him further. But he does stand upright again, then offers his hand.
Koriand’r smiles and takes his hand. “Don’t be embarrassed,” she says. “The first time I met a human, I kissed him full on the mouth. I greeted people the wrong way for a month before someone finally corrected me.”
“That is patently untrue,” Dick says from the sidelines. “And I would know, because it was me you kissed.”
Koriand’r flashes a grin at him. But then she shakes her head and looks fully back at Damian. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Damian,” she says, and clasps his hand with both of hers, then gently shakes it. “Dick has told me so much about you -- I’m so happy you’ll be staying with us here in the Tower.”
It is still a strange thing, thinking of the Tower as his new living quarters. Damian isn’t even a Teen Titan -- he isn’t even a teen. But he thinks, when he looks at Grayson and the people that his dad has chosen to have around him… Damian thinks that it might become just as much of a home as the manor.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Koriand’r,” he says -- almost shyly. Then, he glances down at her belly, which is difficult to miss, as she is within the last month of her pregnancy, and at Damian’s eye-level. “And - and it is also nice to meet Mar’i. Can she hear anything from there?”
Koriand’r smiles at Dick above Damian’s head. “She reacts to my voice sometimes,” she says. “But she reacts more to touch. A bit like her father.”
Damian nods. “Grayson is very tactile, yes.”
A small part of him is disappointed, because he will not be able to properly meet her for another few months. But to his surprise, Koriand’r catches his hand. Then, gently, she rests it against the side of her belly.
For a moment, Damian just feels warm. But then, there is a strange beat of life from inside her belly, and Damian realizes that Mar’i has just kicked at his hand.
His smile nearly splits his face. “She-- she knows I’m there?”
“Looks like she was excited to meet you, too, Damian.” Koriand’r smiles at him, then gently moves his hand from her side. Damian is almost disappointed, but he realizes it’s only so that she can rise back to her full height. “Let’s start unpacking your things and bringing them downstairs, yes? Dick -- I’m taking Damian down to see his new room.”
Dick appears from next to them, silent as ever -- or perhaps he’d been there for a bit, but Damian hadn’t noticed him with his … distraction. He will need to remember how to stay focused, even in emotional times. But. As long as it’s only Grayson sneaking up on him, Damian cannot fault himself for it, just this once.
“What do you mean, your highness?” Dick asks, going on his toes to kiss his girlfriend on the cheek. He rests a hand gently on her belly, only a little above where Damian’s hand had been. “You aren’t going to use your super strength and flight to help us unload?”
“You try carrying a child that drains half your energy,” Koriand’r starts-
But to her surprise, and Dicks’ -- and, likely, also Damian’s -- Damian cuts in. “Princess Koriand’r will accompany me downstairs. She does not need to waste energy on pedestrian tasks when her consort is perfectly capable of carrying them out.”
Dick’s face twitches into something like amusement. “Alright, alright,” he says, palms up. “I’m outnumbered. Should I get used to this?”
Koriand’r leans up to whisper something in Dick’s ear that Damian cannot hear, despite his superb hearing. But when he frowns and looks up at the pair, Koriand’r smiles down at him. “Yes,” she says. “I think you will have to get used to it rather quickly, love. Damian is going to be an excellent big brother.”
A tiny part of Damian knows her voice sounds teasing. But the rest is so overcome with happiness over being acknowledged as Mar’i’s big brother that he can’t even feel annoyed.
When Koriand’r takes his hand and leads him downstairs and to his new room, Damian doesn’t complain about her affection. Not even a little. In the near future, he will pretend that he put up a fight and never accepted affection from this strange woman or any of Grayson's friends. But when he's older, and wiser, and a little bit more mature, he'll admit that this is when he started trusting people outside of just Grayson.