Chapter Text
How the fuck were you meant to bandage wings?
Bruce worked with Hawk Man, shouldn't he have taught this to Jason. This is, potentially, the single worst patch job he has ever done. He can never let anyone see it, the kids standards are probably low enough that he won't care to remember it.
Jason would never be able to forget.
The new bird still hasn't woken up, though he was tossing and turning on one of Jason's nicer mattresses.
He may have gone a little out of the way so he could get to one of his nicer safe houses.
Sue him.
Jason kept a careful watch over the kid whilst looking over the Drakes accounts. No overt connection to Wings, but he did come across the same odd transaction and similar offshore accounts, both pieces of the puzzle but no way to connect them. He was getting tense.
The Drakes are to clean for this approach.
Maybe he shouldn't have killed that woman, he could always have just killed her after asking a few questions. Talia would be disappointed.
Well you live and you learn.
By the time Jason got to the safehouse the Drakes had already gone to ground, tickets with multiple layovers, a journey never completed. The only lead he had left is the meta in front of him. Though the kid only brought up more questions.
How the hell did they get a meta kid? Why capture, or traffic, him in the first place? Did they know they could make drugs from him? Where did the magic come into play? How did they even get enough knowledge to use magic items without killing themselves? How is the kid even magical to begin with?
To many questions and not enough answers. He didn't wanna overwhelm the kid and he doubted they know much anyway. For now Jason would have to stick with speculation.
The kid looks young, but with how malnourished they are it's likely birdie is older than they look, maybe 14 or 15? Older if their on deaths door. Though admittedly he didn't have much experience with kid's. Damian was in his own category all together.
Do they have a family to get back to? Is anyone looking for them? Considering the kid tried to kill themselves at the first opportunity, Jason doubted it.
He'll have to make a diet plan, from the tins of canned food he doubts the kid was getting anything substantial. He's gonna need a lot of nutrient heavy foods, maybe some bone broth would be good? He'll do research.
He can't exactly pawn the baby bird off, too dangerous.
Jason's head snapped to the bed at the rustling, the kid was lifting his head. Their eyes got clear and they swiped their wings at the sides of the room. Jason dove to the ground instinctively and rushed to restrain them.
He expected a freak-out, already moved anything potentially dangerous. Apparently those wings could pack enough punch on their own.
The kid was already slowing down after just one or two swipes, Jason doubted they had enough muscle or energy to be able to move them much more. All the panting the kid was doing only emboldened that thought. Their eyes became wide and frantic as they darted around the room.
Jason dove under another swing and caught the kid in a hold. Using his weight against them. This wouldn't work when the kid is strong enough to use the full weight of his wings but for now it was enough.
"Hey, hey listen I'm not gonna hurt you, I don't hurt kids, I need you to calm down before you hurt yourself." Jason felt the way the kid stilled. Tense and waiting.
It was progress at least.
"I go by Red Hood, I protect kids an I protect the alley, I wanna help you birdie but I can't do that when ya fighting me. I got ya outta that room right?" The kids breath slowed.
"Can ya tell me your name." The kid craned his neck to look at Jason's helmet, he should really take that off soon, and he watched as they took on a pensive expression.
It reminded him of Bruce a little.
The kid looked toward the window, taking in the light streaming through.
Their face hardened. They made a subtle movement against him and looked to Jason again.
"I'm gonna let you go, but I need to know you won't try to hurt yourself or me." The kid frantically nodded. Jason let go.
The kid went slower than expected, movements clumsy. As they opened their mouth a broken croak hit the air, the kid coughed violently.
Jason turned and grabbed a bottle of water and a notebook, he had a feeling the kid might struggle to communicate, and handed them both to the little bird. The kid greedily drank all the water in a couple gulps, then looked towards Jason defiantly. Tense and waiting for something to happen.
Jason just waited for the kid to talk. They tilted their head and made a grab for the notebook.
Jason waited as the kid wrote something down, he had put him in one of his old hoodies that he cut up and trackies. They were practically swallowing the kid, it was kinda cute how they kept hiking up the sleeves to write.
The kid stopped writing and looked at Jason again, then silently slid over the notebook. It didn't have a name, only a question.
*How will you use me?*
Jason looked up towards the kid, they had the cloudy look they had on in that room again. He reached up to slowly unlatch his helmet, all he had on was the domino now.
"Kid, I'm gonna try and make this as clear as I can, I don't want to use you, I want to help you heal. I don't know how long you've been in that basement but from the looks of it it's been a while." The kid was silent, his eyes widening slowly at Jason's every word.
"If there's somewhere you want to go or people who can protect you I'll take you to them." Something bitter settled in Jason's gut, he didn't let it show. "And if their isn't I'll take care of you alright. I don't want to use you little bird, I want to help you fly."
Whatever the kid was doing to hold in his emotions all broke at Jason's conclusion. In a second tears were running down his face and birdie couldn't stop hiccupping. Jason took a risk, he got closer and brought the kid tight to his chest.
Birdie latched on hard enough to leave bruises if it wearnt for the armor.
They were sobbing, struggling to breathe. God was he gonna have to knock the kid out?
He heard words between the sobs, birdie was saying something, or trying to. A name. His name.
"Tim." The sobbing continued, the words spoken with a strength Jason was surprised the kid still had. "Tim Drake, my name, my name is Tim Drake."
Jason went stock still, there was no way. Tim Drake is meant to be dead. He really wanted to shoot the Drakes right now. Tim had quieted down again, his head slumped. He'd fallen asleep right there in Jason's arms.
That was good, it wouldn't go well for Tim to see Jason freaking out.
Jason carefully slid Tim off of him and tucked him back into bed, the room was a complete mess but he could deal with that later, there were bigger problems.
Jason grabbed the laptop he'd been using before Tim woke up and immediately started researching everything he could about Tim's death. The photo of four year old Tim held a clear resemblance to the kid on the bed.
The same hair, the same nose, even the same grey blue eyes. He looked exactly like Janet Drake, only with the colouring of his father.
Transactions around the time of Tim's death followed the exact same pattern that Wings had. There was no way it wasn't connected. But why the decade gap?
There were few photos of Tim as a child yet every single one had him wearing a beanie and bulky clothes, were they trying to protect him? Or were they disgusted?
Jason looked toward the baby bird in the bed. There was absolutely nowhere Tim could go, he was a legally dead meta kid with far to much baggage to be properly treated by most homes. There was no way he was letting some hero turn him into a sidekick. Getting through his emotional problems with punches did not work for Jason, it would not work for Tim.
Jason meant what he'd said, if there was no one Tim could go to he would take care of him. He's gonna need to take some time to plan his next steps in Gotham either way. It would do him some good to leave for a bit and plan. He ordered Tim some clothes and had it delivered to the safehouse..
He made his way to the kitchen and started researching meal plans.
Dick really hates the rain.
It has been a constant even before he met Bruce. The rain meant the circus was grounded, that it was time to slow down and stop.
His parents had always said to take it as a blessing, to take a breather. To the kid that couldn't sit still the rain was torture.
And Nightwing hadn't made the experience much better.
His bike slid down the intersection, colours blurring around him. He was being far to reckless as a civilian, though right now he wasn't really sure he counted.
Okay maybe Dick's cheating a little, he's still technically in civilian clothing and on his own bike but it's was for hero business so he can take the risk.
Who's there to stop him?
*Emergency meeting, civilian attire, all hands.*
Maybe if he was lucky he'd make it back to Blud in time for a shorter patrol.
Even through his helmet the smells of Gotham pulled up through the rain assaulting his nose, piss and beer and blood changing to lawn clippings and blooming roses as he got closer to Bristol.
Maybe it was a new threat the league had picked up? No then the meeting would have been at the watch tower.
Maybe a lead on something connecting Blud and Gotham? That would mean Bruce actually has a little respect for Dicks boundaries, so also no.
Maybe Bruce had adopted another kid? It would explain the civilian clothes, but also means Bruce had actually learned his lesson on springing new kids on Dick.
So far the most unlikely option then.
The perfectly maintained lawns rolled past, all with the exception of Drake Manor. Flat and dead. Alfred had explained to him once that their child's death allowed enough sympathy for the new money family to ease into the old circles, but not enough to garner any actual respect.
Dick wouldn't put effort into his garden either if he were only their to see it a week out of the year.
He was gonna take a nice hot shower the second he was done with whatever shit Bruce wanted him to fix now. His jacket was not designed for this amount of rainfall.
All the lights of the manor were on. Alfred was meticulous in ensuring they were all off after 9, using the early minutes of patrol to set the house to sleep, what was it that could keep the paranoid bat home tonight?
His bike slid into the Manors garage, he took of his helmet and shook out his waves.
First stop. His room.
No way was he dealing with Bruce wet and cold, he was crotchety enough to deal with when Dick was having a good day.
His steps echoed off the impeccably clean walls as he made his way down to his old room. Everything's the same as he left it, gutted and grey. He hadn't found himself staying at the Manor much since he got kicked out, not since Ja-
Well, not since a while really.
The image of a Red Helmet swirled in his mind as he made his way to the bathroom. He peeled his clothes off and dropped them on the floor, setting himself under the shower head and turning on the hot water. Bruce could wait a bit longer, the manor had much nicer water pressure than his apartment.
After a sadly quick clean he dried himself off and put on one of the old hoodies and sweats Alfred left in his drawers Incase he ever came for the night.
It's been awhile since Alfred would have had to wash these, they were a bit musty.
Dick made his way down to the den, his slippers slapping across the pristine marble, he'd never quite figured out how to be as silent in them as in his other shoes.
Lows murmurs floated through the hallways, he rounded the corner to see Steph and Cass drinking coffee, he gave them both a bright smile as Cass sent him a smirk and handed him a cup.
"I told you he would come." Cass directed her comment with a knowing look at Steph.
"Yea well after their last fight I really thought they'd never talk again, what's up Dick." Steph took a sip of her steaming coffee as her eyes flicked from Cass to Dick.
His smile turned brittle. According to Steph his last fight with Bruce was the worst she had ever seen, worse even then that first one she saw when Dick came barrelling into the manor after seeing a report of a new robin. Only a year after Jason's death.
Of course it would once again be a fight about Jason that would beat that in Steph's eyes. There was always a distance after that first fight she witnessed between Bruce and Dick, he regretted it almost immediately. No matter what he did Steph seemed to be convinced Dick didn't see her as 'worthy' of his old mantel, it didn't help how little Steph seemed to care for robin itself, or how she was already not in the best state at the time with her Father's imprisonment and mothers death.
Cass and Babs help had them growing a little closer, not siblings yet but able to talk without snipes.
Red Hoods appearance had sent their relationship back a bit.
"Bruce could have told me about Ja- about the Red Hood at any point and instead I had to find out a month later from Babs, I should have heard he was back through Bruce, even with the earthquake this was vital info." Dick was amazed he was able to keep his voice level.
Steph sneered at him. "Oh sure, I bet he was just so excited to let everyone know that the new murderer in town was an a Robin."
Dicks smile crackled now. His initial reaction to Red Hoods identity had been elation, how could it not. His little brother was back, then he had heard about what he'd done to Steph.
Dick hadn't wanted to believe it at first, and Steph hadn't taken kindly to Dicks reaction.
Before he could bite back Cass rose to her full height from where she was leaning over the counter watching. Alfred matched into the room with an odd amount of decorum, even for the old butler. There were new grey's adorning his crown.
"Ah young Master Dick, good of you to join us, if you three would please follow me down to the cave, Master Bruce would like to introduce you three to someone." Alfred's voice had an odd stilted quality Dick had never heard before, his bewildered expression matched Steph and Cass's.
"Wait hol- up did Bruce seriously adopt another kid?" Steph matched after an already retreating Alfred.
"Wait you two don't know what this is about?" Dick directed his question towards Cass at his side.
"We were training when Bruce got an alert. Something in him... stretched? No, hardened maybe? He told us to go upstairs and send Alfred down." Cass's lexicon had grown significantly since Dick had met her, especially with Babs supports, but she still tended to struggle with describing emotions no matter how well she could read them.
"It is far more complicated of a situation than a new adoptee Miss Stephanie, although you are quite close. Master Bruce will explain all if you are patient enough to wait for it." Alfred's sass echoed from behind him as he turned the hands on the Grandfather clock dutifully stationed in Bruce's office.
Steph's cheeks pinked at Alfred admonishment. They all followed him down the sleek steps into the Batcave.
Bruce was at the computer looking at what seemed to be timeliness and medical records. A picture of a kid stretched large on the screen. They looked remarkably like Bruce. Bruce and his worst partner.
Steph immediately started cackling as Dick paled.
No not her.
Not Talia, please not Talia of all people Bruce could have had an oopsie baby with. Why did it have to be her.
Steph's cackles were cut off by an abrupt oof as the same kid on the screen seemed to drop from nowhere and-
Is that a knife!?
Cass reacted before anyone else, lunging for the kid as Steph tried tilting her centre of gravity.
"Damian!" Bruce's voice echoed through the cave, everyone stilled, even Alfred.
Dick hated that voice, it was the same one Bruce used when he was done with your
behaviour, or when he was just done with you. He had used in their fights quite a bit over the years. Most recently when Dick had confronted him about Steph being in the robin costume, and before that...
The kid, Damian, scrambled off Steph with far to much grace for someone that short and snapped to attention, like a soldier, ignoring her squawk of outrage.
"Father if you would allow me I can show my superiority to these interlopers and take my rightful title as mother wished." Damian spoke primly as without any sense of hesitation or shame at his actions. Dick finally got a good look at him as he spoke.
Damian was pint sized, but god did he look exactly like Bruce and Talia, he had all of Bruce's strong features, with the addition of tanned skin and fiery green eyes.
Lazarus eyes.
He carried himself with the weight of a killer, Dick noted Cass's tense form and her singular focus on watching Damian.
"Damian, as I told you and your mother killing is strictly forbidden. I understand you were raised to see strength as the most important factor in hierarchy but here there will be no such thing. This is a family and while you are welcome and we will do our best to accommodate your needs if you would like to be a part of this family then you will need to treat your siblings with respect." The lines on Bruce's face were even harsher than they were a month ago, had Talia just dropped the kid off and dipped?
He had his own questions about what happened to Jason, why he turned up in Gotham the way he did. Maybe he could still track her down and gently encourage her to answer him.
"Bruce what the hell is going on? Who is that?" Steph matched up to Bruce jabbing a finger into his chest. "And why the fuck did he try to kill me?"
Bruce released a deep sigh before answering. "This is Damian Al Ghul Wayne. My son with Talia, I was not aware of him until a few hours ago. Apparently he is not currently safe in the league, though Talia would not tell me why. She brought him here to be safe and to 'claim his legacy'." The air quotes combined with Bruce's tried face did not paint a pretty picture of Talia's expectations.
Damian quickly followed up. "I am safe wherever I go, I am Damian Al Ghul, heir to the Demon Head. Mother brought me here to complete my training and to take up my rightful position at my fathers side." He turned his head to Steph. "And I was simply helping father with removing the trash." The kid was to smug for his own good, especially when dealing with Stephanie Brown.
"Oh you little shi-" she was cut off by a knife whizzing by her head, Steph looked flabbergasted only for a moment then lunged at Damian. Cass and Dick shared a look and stepped forward ready to separate the pair.
"DAMIAN, STEPHANIE THAT IS ENOUGH!"
Everyone froze yet again. Damian had gone ramrod straight and there was a hint of fear in his eyes, Dick was very quickly reminded Damian was a child raised to value strength and power now in a situation where he had none. And without his mother.
He could hear the spines cracking at the back of his mind.
Bruce let out another deep sigh. "Alfred show Damian to his room, and try to explain to him the expectations of the house. Damian I know this is all new to you but there will be no attacking anyone else in this house, I will talk to you after I'm finished here."
The kid seemed ready to argue but a sharp look from Bruce was enough to send him following after Alfred like a petulant duckling. Bruce directed himself towards his remaining children.
"I understand the next few months are likely to be... difficult, Damian was raised to be an assassin, he has killed and expects to kill again. I will be trying to teach him a different way. I'm not going to fail another child."
Something ugly settled in Dicks gut. "You really think you of all people can give the kid what he needs?" Dick spat the words like venom.
His derision was met with a sharp look from Bruce. Dick held his gaze.
After a minute Bruce broke off the stalemate and stalked up the stairs, likely to find Damian.
"What. The. Fuck." Steph's thoughts echoed around the now much colder cave. Dick let out a snort, he turned and made his way to the elevator.
"Hey where the hell are you going, are you just gonna leave us with this." Steph ran up beside Dick. Irritation flared inside his gut.
He took a deep breath before turning his head "I'm going to sleep, this is to much for one night and I have a feeling were gonna need all our energy for breakfast tomorrow." Dick sent one last look towards the girls before taking the elevator up to the manor, trying his best to avoid Bruce.
The old house had somehow become even colder than when he was soaked. He made his way to the sparse room he used to think was the safest place in the world and flopped on the bed. Sleep came just as easy as it always did.
His nightmares of Jason, Steph and Cass in burned, broken costumes were added to tonight with the addition of Damian, this time in the first robin costume Dick had ever worn worn. A bloody red helmet swirled through his thoughts, carving through the circus of his mind. The rain beat against his windows.
Dick really hates the rain.