Work Text:
Damian
Dick’s woken up by heavy pounding on his door.
A quick glance at the clock tells him that it’s only 9 AM which means he’s barely slept for a couple of hours. For a second he wonders if Wally forgot his keys, but then his muddled brain remembers that his boyfriend is still in the middle of a 24-hour shift. When the pounding intensifies, Dick groans and drags himself out of bed by sheer will.
He is not prepared for what he sees.
“Wha… Talia?”
A very - very - pregnant Talia who looks seconds away from not being so very pregnant. The woman is breathing heavily and is clearly in pain based on her sweat-covered face, but her expression speaks only of determination.
“You are a paramedic now, right?” Dick’s unable to compute her words until she snaps: “Right?”
“I… Yeah, I am, but…”
“Good.”
Talia forces her way in and stumbles into the bathroom where she promptly pulls down the towels from the rack. Dick follows her in a haze, not quite sure what is happening.
“My water broke 20 minutes ago. The contractions are a few minutes apart.”
And with that, Dick’s brain snaps into action. “What? Talia, we need to get you to a hospital!”
“No!” Talia spits out as he gingerly lowers herself onto the towels. “I can’t… I can’t risk… it.”
From the way her face twists and her hand forms a fist, she’s clearly experiencing another contraction. Not a sound leaves her as she fights through it, releasing a breath once it’s over.
“Talia, I’m barely qualified. I’ve only delivered one baby so far and I had help! If something goes wrong…”
“If something goes wrong, the child dies. So be it. It’s better than… than my father finding it.”
For a moment, Dick is too stunned to reply. He wants to tell her that she might die, too, but the words refuse to leave his mouth. Then he moves before his mind catches up, and he kneels down in front of Talia, sleep forgotten and work-mode on.
“I need to check how you are progressing.”
Talia grunts. “Do whatever you need to do, just get it out of me.”
It turns out, Dick wasn’t wrong when he thought Talia looked seconds away from giving birth. Because… oh.
“All right, Talia, it looks like the baby is pretty eager to conquer the world,” Dick says. “So when you feel the urge to push, feel free.”
When she does push, she’s again completely silent. Dick offers her encouragement that probably falls on deaf ears, tells her to rest only to have her push again a few seconds later.
Dick’s not sure if he’s relieved or horrified how quickly it all happens.
“It’s a boy!” he declares as the baby lets out his first cry not 15 minutes after Talia walked through her door. “Let me just…”
A little desperately, Dick looks around for anything to wrap the baby in. With nothing else handy, he ends up using one of Wally’s recently washed pajama shirts. “There we are, little guy,” Dick says as he makes the baby into a burrito. “You comfortable?” He then turns to Talia, who’s staring at the child as if she doesn’t understand what it is. “Do you want to hold him?”
“No,” Talia says. “Help me finish.”
A way too short amount of time later, Dick is begging Talia to reconsider and admit herself to a hospital. “Leslie’s clinic is not far from here,” he says. “Her staff knows to be discreet. You tell them the father is abusive and they won’t alert any authorities without your permission.”
“You have given me adequate care. I will return to my father now,” Talia says. “He will be disappointed to learn the baby did not survive it but I will make it up to him.”
Dick frowns. “The baby is right here,” he says, bouncing the said baby in his arms.
“Yes,” Talia says and for a second or two, her expression softens. “His name is Damian.”
“Okay, but…”
“Damian Wayne.”
Dick’s knees nearly buckle and it’s not because of the weight of the newborn. “ What ?”
“There is formula and diapers in the bag to last a couple of days,” Talia continues as if he had not even heard Dick. Dick only then notices Talia had even brought a bag. “Some clothes, too. I suggest you bring him to his father today, though. The Manor is more suitable for an infant and Alfred has experience with caring for one.”
“Talia…”
But Talia leaves, and with a baby - Bruce’s baby - in his arms, it’s impossible for Dick to bolt after her. There’s also absolutely no safe place for Dick to put the baby down so he’s stuck, in the middle of his living room, with his 1-hour old baby brother sleeping in Wally’s pajamas.
The towels are ruined. They’re the His and His towels Bruce got them as a house-warming gift.
Damian makes a sound but doesn’t wake up. Dick knows he has to take him to be checked out and he has to do it soon, but for a moment, he just stares at the baby, the reality of the situation slowly dawning on him now that the adrenaline starts to wear off.
“Oh my God…!”
His heart suddenly thumping, Dick rushes to his bedroom to find his phone. Wally has sent him a selfie with an older lady who he apparently rescued from an overturned port-a-potty. Dick replies with a vague ‘call me,’ which he knows will cause alarm bells to go off in Wally’s head, but Dick has to go to Leslie’s, he has to call Bruce, he has to…
“...llo? Dick? Chum, you there?”
Oh. He’s already called Bruce.
“B…” Dick breathes out, attempting to pull out a onesie from Talia’s bag with Damian still in his arms and the phone between his ear and shoulder. “I need you to meet me at Leslie’s.”
“What’s wrong?” Bruce asks immediately.
“Nothing. I hope,” Dick replies with a glance at Damian, who does seem to be breathing ok. He has 10 fingers and toes. Dick counted twice. His color is normal. His hair is dark and thick. Dick’s not sure if that’s a sign of a healthy baby but it’s… it’s good. It’s good that he has hair, Dick thinks. For some reason.
“Dick?”
“Just meet me there. I don’t want to tell you over the phone.”
“30 minutes,” Bruce says, all business now.
“I’ll meet you there.”
Somehow, Dick manages to put a tiny diaper and a onesie on Damian and they don’t fall off when he picks the baby up so he considers that a success. It’s not until he’s outside and heading for his car that he realizes he has no other safe way to transport this tiny human except his arms, and he’s glad for the warm weather as he starts walking quickly towards the clinic, ignoring the amused and adoring looks he gets from passers-by.
The staff leads him to an examination room immediately upon hearing his story and Leslie herself rushes in just as a nurse takes Damian from Dick.
“You should take him to Gotham General,” Leslie says a couple of moments later as he lifts her stethoscope from Damian’s chest. “Nothing’s wrong,” she adds when Dick makes a distressed sound. “But just in case, for observation. Sounds like he made quite the entrance.”
“Yeah,” Dick sighs, his shoulders slumping. “I…”
From the way Bruce bursts into the room just then, one would think Dick had called from his deathbed. In a very Bruce-like way, he observes the scene, and his face morphs from alarm to utter confusion in a matter of seconds.
“A baby ?” he says. “But Dick, how did…?”
“He’s not mine,” Dick cuts him off. “He’s…” he stops, glancing at Leslie who is tending to Damian, seemingly not listening. “...Talia’s,” he finishes.
“Talia’s…” Realization dawns on Bruce’s face and his skin color turns just slightly paler. “Right.”
For the second time, Dick recounts the story of what happened in his apartment a couple of hours ago. Bruce takes it all in with a stoic face, his eyes on his son, and merely nods when Dick finishes with “...and then I brought him here.”
“Right,” Bruce says again, his voice a bit off. “Is he, uh… Is he okay?” he asks Leslie.
“He seems to be absolutely fine,” Leslie replies with a slight smile. “Your son did a very good job.” It takes a second for Dick to realize Leslie is talking about him. “But as I already told him, you should take him Gotham General for observation just in case. I can call ahead and arrange an ambulance. I assume you do not have a car seat.”
“No, I…” Bruce clears his throat. “Never needed one.”
“That’s fine. Stay here and take a moment to breathe. I’ll let you know when the ambulance is here.”
Once Leslie is out of the room, Dick’s body decides to quit and he slumps into a plastic seat and puts his head into his hand. His lack of sleep is catching up to him and he has to take several deep breaths to calm his heart a little.
A heavy hand falls on his shoulder and squeezes. He looks up, surprised to feel tears in his eyes. Bruce offers him a small smile.
“You did good, Dick,” he says softly. “You did so good.”
“You have a son,” Dick says.
Bruce is going to insist on a DNA test, of course. But he doesn’t deny Dick’s statement, which tells Dick that Bruce knows this child 99,9% certainly is his.
All those lectures on using protection…
“Two.”
“Hm?”
“I have two sons.”
Dick’s throat closes up and the tears do fall then. He’s exhausted, and he can’t handle anything anymore. “Yeah.”
“Does he have a name?”
“Dick Junior,” Dick chuckles and it does manage to evoke a soft hum of amusement out of Bruce, too. “He does. Bruce…” With a groan, Dick forces himself up from the chair and walks over to the cot where Damian is now awake, observing his surroundings with all the curiosity that an infant that young can muster (...which is practically none.) “...meet Damian.”
“You can’t just text me ‘call me' and then not pick up your phone! And then I get home to find a murder scene!”
“Quite the opposite, actually…”
“That’s not funny! Dick, you can’t do that!”
“I know, I know. I’m so, so sorry, Wally, I was just tired and confused and… I delivered a baby in our bathroom who turned out to be my younger brother!”
“...I guess that’s not the lamest of excuses.”
“So you’ll forgive me?”
“Ugh. Fine. Be happy that I love you. Now, where’s the baby? I should at least meet the reason my life expectancy was shortened by 10 years.”
Jason
The scene is all too familiar these days.
The prescription bottle of Oxycontin is empty but for two pills, and the woman is not breathing. The neighbor who called 911 is unable to tell Dick how long she’s been like this, so Dick injects her with Narcan in hopes of reviving her.
It doesn’t work.
“She has a kid,” the neighbor says suddenly as Dick and Artemis are packing up while waiting for the coroners. “I didn’t hear him leave this mornin’.”
“There’s a kid in this apartment?” Dick asks. “What’s his name? How old is he?”
“Uh… It’s. Jacob? No. Jason! And uh… He’s about… 9? Or 10? I don’t know! We’re not pals or anything. I just know she has a brat.”
“Okay. All right,” Dick says and looks around the apartment for a possible place for a child to hide.
“Ja…!”
“No, don’t!” Dick cuts Artemis off. “We don’t want him to come out and see this.” He nods at the mother under the sheet. “Trust me, it can be pretty traumatizing.”
Artemis winces but nods. Dick gets up to walk around the living room to a closed door that he assumes leads to either the bathroom or a bedroom. He knocks on the door lightly and gently calls out: “Jason? Are you in there?”
There’s no reply, but Dick is almost certain he can hear a whimper. “Jason, my name’s Dick. I’m a paramedic. I’m going to open the door now.”
Dick gets a glimpse of who is supposedly Jason before there’s a loud bang and Dick feels the wind being knocked out of him. He grabs onto the door frame for support, but his knees buckle and he falls like a ragdoll onto the floor.
“Was that a gunshot? Oh my God, Dick? Dick! Dick, hey, stay with me, stay wi…”
Artemis’s voice fades out as Dick’s vision goes dark.
When Dick doesn’t recognize the room he’s in, his first instinct is to panic. The feeling intensifies when he realizes he’s bound by tubes and the trashes weakly in an attempt to escape.
“...okay. You’re okay, babe. Look… me! It’s me…, Wally. You… okay.”
It takes a moment for Dick to register Wally’s voice and another for his eyes to focus on his boyfriend’s face. His need to ‘get out, get out, get out’ diminishes slightly and he’s able to take a gulp of air before stuttering: “Wally?”
“Yeah,” Wally chuckles, but it’s wet and his eyes are shining. “Yeah, babe, it’s me.”
Dick blinks. “Where am I?”
“You’re in the hospital. But you’re okay!” Wally says quickly when Dick’s eyes widen. “I mean, you will be. Now that you’re… now that you’re awake. You’re gonna be okay.”
Wally falls heavily onto a plastic chair by the bed and Dick takes a long look at him. There are dark circles under Wally’s eyes and he hasn’t shaved in at least a few days. With much more effort than normal, Dick lifts his hand to cover Wally’s. Wally lets out a shaky breath and gives the back of Dick’s hand a kiss.
“What happened?” Dick asks.
“You don’t remember?”
“I…” Dick thinks. “Artemis and I responded to an overdose. We lost her. After that…” Something about a child? “...pretty much nothing.”
“Well, that’s probably good,” Wally says. “You, uh… You were shot.”
Huh?
“What?”
“First thing I said, too,” Wally replies and his attempted humor falls flat. “You know, the point of you becoming a paramedic instead of a cop was to avoid confrontations with firearms.”
“But… who?”
Wally gives him a long, appraising look. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Why? Wally, what…?”
“Because you won’t like it one bit and you’ll start blaming yourself and we should at least make sure you’re stable enough before I break your heart,” Wally says as he presses the call button.
Usually, Dick is the more stubborn one of the two of them. He’s about to start his insistent (albeit tired) nagging when Leslie walks in with a nurse. “You’re going to tell me,” Dick tells Wally before turning his attention to ask Leslie’s questions.
In the end, it’s Bruce that tells him.
“If anything good came out of this, I’m no longer scared of him,” Wally tells Dick after they call Bruce to tell him Dick’s awake.
“You’re not?”
“It’s hard to be scared of a man who kisses his son’s forehead. Very… out of character for him. And at the same time… Not?”
Dick smiles. “He can be a bit contradictory. Did you know he still carries lollipops in his suit pocket?”
“I didn’t know he ever did that.”
“Yeah, he picked up the habit when I was a kid so that he’d always have a distraction or a pick-me-up handy. Now he gives them out to kids at Leslie’s clinic whenever he visits. Damian’s still too young for them but I manage to sneak one every now and then.”
“Okay, my entire worldview just shifted in its axis.”
Wally gives Bruce a long look of ‘who even are you’? when Bruce rushes into the room about an hour later. He looks just as tired as Wally, but Dick is more shocked to see him wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt. That, if anything, really hits it home to him that oh. It was bad.
“Chum…” Bruce breathes out heavily and sits on the chair that Wally vacates. Bruce reaches out to push back Dick’s hair and it’s very reminiscent of the times when Dick was sick as a child. From the corner of his eye, Dick sees Wally quietly slip out of the room, mouthing ‘I’ll be back’. “You gave us quite a scare.”
“Sorry,” Dick says. “They say I should be fine. Full recovery and all that.”
“That’s good. That’s… Yeah. That’s good.”
“Will you tell me what happened?” Dick asks to stop Bruce’s clear spiraling to ‘what if’? “Wally’s been dodging the question.”
Bruce sighs. “Are you sure? Maybe you should just rest for a few more days?”
“Bruce.”
With a reluctant shake of his head, Bruce starts: “I only know what Jim told me. Artemis is still pretty shaken so I figured I should leave her alone.”
“She’s okay, though, right?”
“As far as I know. I’ve been focused on you.”
“Right, well. What did Jim tell you?”
“You remember a kid? In the apartment?”
“Sort of?”
“Well, his mother gave him a gun, told him to hide, and to shoot anyone who tried to get in. Jim believes she was already high at that point, possibly hallucinating. Jason says she didn’t sound like she normally did when she was under the influence.”
“Jason? The kid, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“You spoke to him?”
“I did.”
“How is he? Poor kid, I mean… God.”
The side of Bruce’s mouth lifts to a smile. “Of course, you’re thinking of his well-being when you’re the one who was shot.”
“Well, I can’t even remember it. I bet he will have nightmares of it for the rest of his life.” Dick feels tears burn in the corners of his eyes. “I wish I could talk to him. Did you get a hold of his dad? They didn’t put him in the system, did they?”
“No, he’s not in the system.”
“Oh, good, so where should… Wait. I know that face. What did you do?”
“I don’t have a face,” Bruce denies.
“You absolutely have a face. You had that face when Alfred asked about the paw prints in the kitchen and you still hadn’t told him about Ace. Bruce, is Jason in the Manor ?” Dick asks.
“His father is presumed dead, too. If he’s not, then he simply has not contacted Jason or his mother for years and no one knows how to get a hold of him.. Jason’s had a few run-ins with the law… Nothing major, just pick-pocketing,” Bruce says when Dick frowns. “Anyway, the social services were just going to put him in Juvie. I couldn’t let that happen.”
Dick nods slowly. “No. No, that’s right, yeah. Of course, you couldn’t. You did the right thing,” he says.
“I’m glad you think so.”
“At least now I know where to find him.”
“Mm.”
“Does he know? That the guy he shot is your son?”
“Well, uh…” Bruce clears his throat.
“So, no?”
“I figured I should give him some time to settle in.”
“...I sense a but.”
“But I have about 200 pictures of you around the Manor.”
Dick almost laughs at Bruce’s sheepish expression, but the pang of sympathy he feels for Jason kills the urge in his throat. “He recognized me?”
“Immediately. He thought I brought him home to punish him.”
“Oh my God.” Dick buries his face in his hands. “When do I get out of here? I want to see him. I have to tell him it was an accident!”
“Okay, hey. Calm down. You’ll have plenty of time to get to know him, all right? Just focus on getting better now,” Bruce tells him.
There’s a soft knock on the door then, and Wally peeks in. “You have another visitor,” he says. “You up for it?”
“Yeah,” Dick says and sits up a little with Bruce’s help. He smiles when Wally comes in with Alfred in tow, who’s holding a rather upset-looking Damian in his arms.
“Dickie!”
“Hey, Dames.”
Damian squirms out of Alfred’s hold and wobble’s to Dick’s bedside with a toddler’s determination. “No!” he snaps when Bruce scoops him up and tries to fight against his dad’s arms. “Down!”
“Dick’s hurt, Damian,” Bruce says. “You can’t share a bed right now.”
Damian frowns but stops struggling. He turns to Dick, and his voice is less demanding when he says: “Hurt?”
“A little,” Dick says. He hears Wally cough. “I’ll be okay, though, don’t worry. We’ll have sleepovers again in no time.”
Damian considers this. Then he turns to Bruce. “We make him soup,” he says with a nod.
Bruce chuckles. “Sure, yes,” he says and places a kiss on Damian’s temple. Dick’s heart melts at the sight. “We’ll make him soup.”
“I do believe you mean I will make the soup and Master Damian will take credit,” Alfred chimes in, but his tone is amused. “It’s good to see you awake, my dear boy,” he tells Dick.
“Thanks, Alf,” Dick says, yawning.
“We’ll let you sleep,” Bruce says. “We’ll be back later.”
“Mm-hm.”
“I stay with Dickie!”
“Dick has to rest.”
“I will sing lullabies!”
Wally sits back on the plastic seat as Damian’s off-key ‘Rock-a-bye-Baby’ fades when the door closes. “You should get some rest, too,” Dick says, his eyes falling shut against his will.
“Yes, yes. Sleep now, babe.”
A flash of a young boy with a gun is the last thing Dick remembers before sleep takes him.
It’s a few more days before Dick’s deemed well enough to be discharged. Wally and Bruce both try to convince him to just stay home and relax for maybe a week more but Dick practically demands them to drive him straight from the hospital to the Manor. He makes it clear he will just drive himself if they don’t agree.
Damian’s delighted to have him home and is surprisingly gentle and careful when Dick lifts him up to hug him. “He’s not heavy,” he comments when Bruce says he should not be lifting heavy things yet. “Hey, Dames. I hear we have a new brother.”
Damian nods against his shoulder. “Jay-jay.”
“Can you tell me where he is?”
“Li-ary.”
“Library,” Bruce translates, although Dick had already guessed.
With Damian on his hip, he finds Jason curled up in the library’s big armchair. Ace is half-asleep next to him, and only greets Dick with a lazy wag of his tail. Jason doesn’t look up from the book he’s reading when Dick enters, not until Damian calls out: “Jay-jay!”
“What, Damian, I…”
Jason’s eyes widen and his whole body stiffens in a blink. Dick immediately feels bad and quickly crosses the room to kneel down a few feet away from Jason.
“Hey,” he says gently. “I, uh… I guess you know who I am?” Jason nods, slowly. “Yeah. Listen, Jason. I just want you to know that what happened was an accident. Okay? I don’t…”
“No, it wasn’t,” Jason says. “I…” he looks at Damian, who’s tilted his head slightly. “I…”
“I know,” Dick says. “But you thought I was a bad guy. You were scared, and you’re a child. You did what you were told to do. I don’t blame you, okay? Not one bit.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Well, then. I’ll just tell you every day until you do. How’s that sound?” Dick smiles.
“...annoying.”
“So wouldn’t it be easier to just believe me now?”
Jason shrugs. “Maybe.”
“It’s okay if you don’t quite do yet, though. We’re brothers now, I’ll have plenty of time to convince you.”
Ever so slightly, Jason relaxes. “Brothers?”
“Yeah!” Dick replies. “Bruce says you’re staying here with him.”
“I’m a foster kid.”
“Titles don’t make families. And if things go the way I think they will, we’ll drop the ‘foster’ soon enough.” Dick adjusts Damian to sit on his lap. “The Manor’s too big for just Damian anyway.”
“It is not!”
“No? So Jay-jay should go?”
“No! Jay-jay stays!”
“You heard him,” Dick says and is happy to see the beginning of a smile on Jason’s face. “We’re okay, Jason. I promise.”
Slowly, so slowly, Jason nods. “I’m sorry I did it, though.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll never do it again.”
“I know you won’t.” With a grunt, Dick stands up. “Come on, now. Alfred’s cooking up quite a feast and your future brother-in-law is eager to meet you, too. You’ll like him. He’s a firefighter.”
By the end of lunch, Jason has managed to make Wally promise he can come to the station to try sliding down the pole, Damian’s thrown a tantrum when he hears he’s still too young for that, Bruce looks a bit overwhelmed as it seems to dawn on him that he has two young boys in the Manor now, and Dick feels happy enough that he almost forgets he was ever shot.
“Next time you get a sibling, could you try to do it a little less dramatically?”
“Oh, two is plenty, thank you very much.”
“Mm-hm. I bet there’ll be at least one more.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Whatever. Here, by the way. I kept it safe and shiny for ya.”
“Thank you.”
“You know, I was just about to tell Barry you said yes when I got the call.”
“Aww, shit, I’m sorry.”
“Not really your fault. I feel like shouting it from the rooftops, though, so could we maybe tell everyone soon?”
“I’ll go get my phone.”
Dick’s heart jumps to his throat when he hears the address of their next call.
It’s not the Manor, it’s the Drake residence, but a fire caused by a lightning strike could easily spread and so Dick floors it, driving through the storm as fast as can still be deemed safe.
To Dick’s immense relief, the fire is already contained by the time he and Artemis arrive at the scene. His relief turns to professional concern when he sees the fire did have enough time to spread to destroy part of the Drake’s roof. He can only hope they have an unoccupied attic.
“Anyone hurt?” he asks Conner, who shakes his head.
“Seems like the house is empty. Wally and Barry are in there now.”
Dick nods, though there’s a pang of worry that he always feels when he hears his fiance is inside a burning building. He tells himself this one is pretty much out already and the house looks steady enough despite the damage.
Still, he sighs when first Barry and then Wally exit the house. He frowns, though, when he sees Barry is carrying a child in his arms.
“Tim?”
“You know him?” Barry asks when he and Wally reach him.
“He is my neighbor. Sort of,” Dick says. “And he goes to school with Jason. Hey, Tim. Remember me?”
Tim nods. He looks like he’s just woken up. “Hi, Dick.”
“We found him in his bed, sleeping soundly,” Wally says, his voice full of wonder about how anyone could sleep through their roof being on fire.
“What about his parents?”
“He says he’s alone.”
About 100 alarm bells go off in Dick’s mind but he silences them for the time being. “Right, okay. We’ll check him over, you go help your squad.”
Barry hands Tim over to him and Dick is surprised by how small the boy is. He knows Tim is at least 9 years old, but he doesn’t look much bigger than 7. More alarm bells threaten to go off but he again forces them to the back of his mind as he plasters a smile on his face.
“Do you hurt anywhere?” he asks as he puts sets Tim down in the ambulance. Tim shakes his head. “You sure?” A nod. “All right. Artemis here will take a look at your eyes, okay?”
Tim obeys Artemis as she tells him to follow the light, and a minute later Artemis says she doesn’t think Tim has a concussion. Dick quickly listens to his lungs and his breathing sounds normal, and Tim tells them that his room is on the other side of the house from the destroyed part of the roof. Dick’s pretty confident that by some miracle, Tim avoided inhaling any of the smoke.
“Hey, Tim?” Artemis says then.
“Yes?”
“How come you didn’t wake up to your fire alarm going off?”
Tim blinks. “Fire alarm?”
“The house this size should have at least 10,” Artemis explains. “Did none of them go off?”
“Oh,” Tim says. “Fire alarms. They’re… not on my list.”
“Your list?” Dick says.
“Mm-hm. I’m to make sure the temperature stays stable. For the art, you know. I’m to check I have enough to eat so Mrs. Roberts knows to bring food and every week I check all the windows for cracks so there won’t be any draft.”
Tim sounds proud of himself, but his short list sours Dick’s mood. He glances at Artemis, who looks bewildered, worried, and angry.
“So, who checks that the fire alarms have full batteries? Your parents?” Dick asks.
“I guess so,” Tim says with a shrug. “They’re not often home, though. Maybe they forgot.”
“They can’t just…!”
“Artemis, step out,” Dick says when he recognizes Artemis’s temper pushing through. She doesn’t argue, probably realizing that she needs to cool off, too. “Tim,” Dick says to Tim when Artemis has left. “How long have you been alone in the house?”
“Um… 6 weeks? But it’s okay! Mrs. Roberts comes by twice a week to bring groceries and clean. I spend most of the days in school anyway,” Tim says. “My parents are important.”
Dick has to bite his tongue to not blurt out profanities. Instead, he forces his smile back on his face. “Well, we’ll have to figure out where you can sleep until your roof is fixed,” he says. Not that you’ll ever come back here if it’s up to me.
“Oh, it’s okay. It won’t bother me,” Tim replies, apparently confused as to why he has to leave him just because there’s a massive hole in his roof. “My parents will want me to look after the art anywa…” Suddenly, Tim’s eyes go wide. “Oh no! Oh no, the art! There’s lots of art up there, and historical things! I have to check on them!”
“Hey, whoa! No, you can’t go back there,” Dick says and stops Tim from bolting out of the ambulance. “It’s dangerous. I’m sure your parents will understand. They won’t want you to get hurt.”
“They’ll be angry,” Tim whimpers.
“Well, maybe. But not at you, right? They’ll blame the stupid weather and the lightning. “
Tim shakes his head. “No, I’m in charge. I’m a big boy and I have to make sure the art is okay!”
“Tim. Hey, look at me,” Dick says when Tim’s breath hitches. “I’m a medical professional, right?”
“Y-yeah?”
“Yeah. And as a medical professional, I am telling you that it’s not good for you to worry about the art in your house right now. Okay? Let’s just focus on you and where to take you.”
He already knows where he’s taking Tim but he needs to get the all-clear from the police so that his plan doesn’t start a kidnapping investigation. Thankfully, the officer on the scene is Kaldur, and he even offers to drive Tim to the Manor, but Dick tells him to instead go start the case against the Drakes. His and Artemis’s shift is due to end anyway.
After quickly filling Wally in on his plan, he and Artemis take off to the Wayne Manor. Dick considers calling ahead but decides against it on the grounds that it’s just after 3 o’clock in the morning and even Alfred is probably in bed.
“Oh, sure, I’ll drive the ambulance to base by myself, that is totally not against regulations,” Artemis says when she turns to the Wayne Manor’s driveway. “I’m throwing you under the bus if we get in trouble.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Dick says. “Thanks, Artemis. I’ll see you tomorrow!”
“Unless we’re both fired, in which case I’m coming to your apartment to kick your perfect butt!”
She’s not really annoyed, though, Dick knows. The look in her eyes is too soft as she gives Tim, who’s almost asleep again, one last glance before maneuvering the ambulance around and driving off.
Dick’s almost to the door when it opens, revealing Bruce in a robe and slippers. “Is that Tim Drake?” he asks before Dick even has a chance to greet him.
“Yeah. The one and only.”
“...are his parents…?”
“They’re not there. Wally and Barry found him alone,” Dick says. Bruce looks relieved and angry at the same time. “Were you the one who called 911?”
“Alfred did, actually. He woke me up just in case,” Bruce explains. “I didn’t realize we should make the guest room ready, though.”
“It’s okay. He can sleep in my room for the night. I’ll crash with Jason,” Dick replies. “Hey, Tim? You still with me?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Do you know where we are?”
“Jason’s house.”
Dick smiles. “That’s right. Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”
Tim’s answer is a mighty yawn.
15 minutes later Tim has been tucked in and breathing heavily. Dick slips out of his room to find Bruce still hovering in the hallway, looking very much ready to tear apart a pair of apparently neglectful parents.
“You should call Jim tomorrow. I asked Kaldur to start the investigation.”
“You think I should take him in?”
“Can you think of anywhere better?”
Bruce sighs, and glances at the closed doors of Damian and Jason. “He was… so calm?”
“I know,” Dick says. “The only moment he freaked out was when he realized the art in their attic might be ruined. I almost hope he has more of a reaction in the morning. I don’t think he’s really allowed himself to be a child for a while now.”
“Not surprising if this is not the first time his parents have been gone this long,” Bruce says. “I know the Drakes travel a lot, I just always assumed that of course, they take Tim with them.”
“Apparently not. Hey, buddy,” Dick says when Ace appears from Damian’s room. He lets out a delighted-sounding huff and pounds to lean his front paws on Dick’s chest. “Yeah, it’s good to see you, too. Yes, it is, but hush, buddy, don’t wake anyone up.”
“Too late,” Jason declares with a yawn. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s almost as if you’re not happy to see me.”
“It’s almost as it’s 4 o’clock in the morning.”
“I brought you a brother.”
“Haha. Very funny.”
“It’s actually not a joke. But you’re right, it’s really late. He’s taken my bed so surprise, you and I are having a sleepover!”
“What? Hey, no, that’s my room, you can’t just… Bruce!”
Jason succumbs to his fate soon, though, and actually allows Dick to sleep until almost 11 AM. It’s a simple <3 text from Wally rather than the alarm that wakes him, but Dick decides to get up anyway, and to check if he’s late for breakfast.
He is, but Alfred brings him a bagel and coffee anyway when Dick settles into an armchair in the living room where Jason and Tim are watching a cartoon while Damian is focused on drawing. Bruce is sitting at the corner table with his laptop, writing furiously, and Dick can guess about what.
“Yeah, see, he’s the bad guy now but wait until we reach the end of the series, he’ll be your favorite character!”
“Don’t spoil it, Jason,” Dick chuckles. “You’re on episode three already?”
“We’re doing a marathon. Tim needs to be educated.”
“Right, of course. You drawing Appa, little man?” Dick asks, ruffling Damian’s hair.
“I’m not little. And Appa is friendly and makes everyone feel better. So, here. It’s for you,” Damian says as he hands his finished drawing to Tim, who takes it with a blink and an almost shy ‘thank you.' Damian nods, his cheeks a bit red.
“Come here,” Dick mumbles and pulls Damian to sit on his lap. His youngest brother is almost 5 now and huffs out half a protest before allowing Dick to circle his arms around his middle. “That was very nice of you.”
“I am very nice.”
“Yes,” Dick says and kisses the top of Damian’s head. “You are.”
Bruce informs him later that day that he has been granted temporary emergency custody of Tim. Tim doesn’t quite understand what his parents have done wrong, which is both sad and deeply alarming, but he also seems to enjoy the company enough not to complain. He looks comfortable next to Jason and is heart-breakingly surprised at every friendly word, a soft touch, a kind gesture.
Dick swears to devote as much time as he can to make sure that Tim will soon take such things for granted.
“Told you so!”
“Tim’s parents might still…”
“You and Bruce won’t let that happen. Hell, Jason won’t let that happen. Face it, Dick, you’ve got three best men now.”
“It’s a big crazy…”
“I think this means the universe always meant for you to be a family.”
“Aren’t you a poet.”
“I know. I should win awards.”
“Hm. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”