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Chapter Text

Before Robin, Dick’s life had been good—that’s not to say his life isn’t good now, it’s just… different. And he misses the circus. Dick had always been an active child, even before he could stand on two feet, and the circus was the perfect place for him to release all his wild energy. He’d spend hours practicing flips, cartwheels and bends. Always trying to learn more, challenging himself to jump higher, to add more twists or rolls, seeing what the weirdest position he could twist his body in was. His parents had fully encouraged it, letting him use the trapeze as soon as he was old enough to hold on properly. It was perfect. The circus had been his family; they were a ramshackle bunch, diverse in skin tone and culture. Everyone had something to give, something to teach — it was a community of great diversity. 

It wasn’t just the people of the circus that had filled his life with richness, it was all the places he got to see. Fleeting faces that he’d soon forget, his attention span too short to take them in, his mind too young to bother to remember them. If ever there were recurring customers, those that would come every year, excited that the circus was back in town, by the time Haly’s circus arrived Dick had already met so many other people and their faces had changed too much for him to recognise anyone. He needed the constant change the circus lifestyle provided. The constant stream of new information, of new images and new senses. It kept him focused in a strange way, never allowing him to get bored or stuck in a cycle of plain old sameness. Excitement was around every corner — just what a young, adventurous child needed.

But now his parents had… But he had left the circus now. Settled to one city— a miserable, dank and kooky city with poverty pouring out every crack and posh people consumed by greed, unable to even consider lending a coin to the starving street kids, always clutching their purses and wallets in a hurricane of paranoia and selfishness as they walk the streets. Sure, there were elements that were new and worth exploring but they had the nasty habit of reminding Dick of all that he’d lost.

Wayne Manor was nice. As were its residents. At first Dick had found it all overwhelmingly intimidating. Bruce was a stranger who had taken Dick in for, at the time, reasons unknown. Tragedy linked them both together, and Dick had struggled at first to take comfort in that. He’d spend days wandering the Manor, checking out the vast rooms and seeing where the best hiding and climbing spaces were. Slowly but surely he’d warmed up to the other members of the household, helping Alfred around the house and playing games with Bruce. It didn’t go amiss to Dick that Bruce was often absent in the late hours of the night, sneaking in the early morning. At first Dick had brushed it off as none of his business, it was probably grown up stuff that people always whispered about whenever Bruce was around. However, Dick couldn’t help but notice that Brucie Wayne, the silly, goofy man that all the pretty ladies smiled at was very different to the calm and sensible Bruce Wayne that Dick had come to know within the confines of the manor.

And then he’d found out about Batman and everything just slotted into place.

Being Robin was the coolest. The exhilaration he experienced was so similar to when he’d been performing with his parents, but this time he wasn’t just putting smiles on an audience’s face, he was saving innocent people. Putting away criminals and fighting supervillains. Fear was unnecessary as Dick knew Batman would always save his Robin. They were partners, the ultimate duo — The Boy Wonder and the Dark Knight. Superheroes. So cool!

But the coolest part?

He got to meet other superheroes too. It was every kid's dream to meet Superman, Wonder Woman or the Flash and today Dick got to meet them all. Well, Robin got to meet them. Today Batman was finally introducing the Boy Wonder to the Justice League. Energy was overpowering Dick, fuelled by his uncontrollable excitement. He had been driving Alfred mad with all his climbing and chattering and swinging from the chandeliers. It had gotten to the point where Alfred had sternly suggested that Dick should go see Master Bruce as he was far more likely to have nothing to do, unlike Alfred who now had to clean up all the dust Dick had caused to fall off the chandelier and onto Alfred’s lovely clean floors. 

———————

So that was how, for the last hour or so, Dick had been insistently bugging Bruce with an onslaught of questions and Bruce had looked more and more like he regretted every life decision he had ever made.

After being asked for the hundredth time if it was time to go, Bruce looked at the clock and almost wept with joy. Time to leave. Finally.

“Come on then, Chum.” Bruce didn’t need to look at Dick to know his face was being split in two by a shit-eating grin. Kids.

Bruce had to admit he was nervous. The thought of introducing Dick to the Justice League, some of the greatest heroes on the earth, for some, the greatest in the universe? Absolutely terrifying. And Dick was just a kid, barely ten years old. But the Justice League wasn’t meeting Dick Grayson, orphaned ward of Bruce Wayne— no, they were meeting Robin, the Boy Wonder, Batman’s partner in the war against crime. Bruce could trust the league with his son, but there was still one problem...

Superman.

Clark fucking Kent. 

Dick’s favourite superhero. The man that Dick had spent so many hours gushing about. Bruce didn’t care. He most certainly wasn’t jealous of some Boy Scout alien. Even if he was literally The Batman but had to buy Superman merchandise for the child that was literally Batman’s partner.

Not jealous at all. 

By the time Bruce got to the cave, Dick was already in his Robin costume, sitting on the bonnet of the batmobile swinging his legs and bouncing restlessly. 

“Come on, B! We’re going to be late!” Robin announced as soon as he spotted Bruce still not in costume. “I can’t be late to meet the Justice League for the first time. What will Superman think?” 

Bruce was seriously regretting deciding to introduce Robin to the Justice League. 

Pettiness was not something people would usually associate with Batman. Yet Bruce found himself taking extra time to check that his gauntlets were on securely and that his utility belt was fully utilised and his cowl was on straight. After Dick whined his name for the fifth time, Bruce relented, deciding he could put off the disaster that was sure to happen in the near future no more.

“You ready to go, chum?” Bruce asked nonchalantly, walking out the changing room and doing some quick last minute checks of the bat computer that everything was in order.

“I’ve been ready for forever,” Dick whined, drawing out the word ‘forever’ in that way only children can. 

Bruce let out a low chuckle, slipping into the Batman persona as he readied himself. 

“Remember Robin, no talk of anything that could give away either of our identities.”

“I’m not stupid, B. Though I don’t get why you don’t just tell them, they’re your friends!”

That was a debate he and Dick had had many times. Dick was completely convinced Bruce was being ridiculously paranoid by not telling the League his civilian identity especially as he knew most of theirs. Bruce on the other hand felt it would be foolish to reveal something so vital at this early stage of the League’s development — he still wasn’t a hundred percent sure he could trust them all and was still in the process of creating contingency plans if any of them turned out to be on the wrong side of righteousness. One could never be too safe when dealing with Gods and aliens, especially when one was just a mere human with a few toys. 

Having typed in the coordinates into the computer, within a minute of stepping into the zeta tube, Bruce and Dick found themselves transported into the Justice League Headquarters.

“That was so cool!” Dick exclaimed, despite swaying slightly from the sudden rush of being teleported. Bruce, who was far more used to it, was no longer affected by the whiplash. 

“Robin, welcome to our headquarters.” Bruce couldn’t help a small uptick of his lips at the sheer look of awe on Dick’s face as he spun around on the spot, taking everything in. “Want to meet the rest of the team?”

   ———————

Walking into the meeting room, Batman and Robin were met with all casual chatter promptly ceasing. Complete stunned silence.

Dick felt as if an invisible rope was tying him to Bruce, almost like an invisible toddler leash, an overwhelming shyness overcoming him.

“Is that a child?” A man, who Dick was excited to identify as the Flash, asked no one in particular.

“That’s a child. A costumed child.” This time a man in green spoke; Dick was pretty sure he was Green Lantern also known as Hal Jordan. Bruce complained about him a lot. 

“Why the fuck does Batman have a child?!” The curse word sounded extremely loud in the awkward silence. Dick couldn’t help a grin splitting across his face.

“ Oliver! ” A blonde haired woman scolded. “You shouldn’t swear in front of children,” she growled, swatting the man's arm harshly. 

“Batman,” Dick knew that voice. He knew that voice! “Care to explain?”

Just like that the imaginary rope snapped. Dick swivelled to find the source of the voice, practically feeling his jaw drop to the floor and convincing himself his eyes were seconds away from popping out of his skull with how much they were widening. There in front of the mere circus brat, in all his red and blue glory, was Superman.

Super-freaking-man! The one and only!

“Holy superheroes, Batman! You’re Superman!” Dick exclaimed, unable to contain his glee.

In a blur of motion that could rival the Flash, Dick was upon Clark, essentially using him as a human climbing frame, attacking him with an abundance of words.

“Is it true you can fly? Well of course it is, you’re Superman! How fast can you go, though? Could you beat Flash? How strong are you? Could you juggle elephants? That would be so cool! Though you’d have to be careful not to hurt them. How many people can you carry at once? Can I do a handstand on your shoulders? Is it true you have laser vision?”

Before Clark could comprehend one question another was being asked and without giving him a chance to know what hit him, he had a bendy child doing a handstand on his shoulders. 

“Robin,” Batman growled gruffly, the child immediately climbing down Clark and skipping happily over in response.

“Sorry, B. I got overexcited!” The child grinned.

Batman just grunted in response, face perfectly blank.

“Everyone, I would like to introduce you all to Robin, my partner against crime back in Gotham.”

“Your what?” Was the general response. Dick rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically, you’d think superheroes would have better listening skills.

“I’m Robin and I fight crime with Batman!” Robin beamed, smiling brightly.

“You—you let the toddler fight bad guys? Gotham, crazy clown murder-y bad guys? Seriously?!” Green Arrow exclaimed, oblivious to the fact that he had just deeply offended Dick.

“I am not a toddler!” he protested angrily. 

Dick almost jumped out of his skin when a heavy hand was placed upon his shoulder. Expecting it to be Batman’s, Dick was surprised to find himself staring up into the kind face of Superman.

“Ignore him, he did not mean what he said.” Clark smiled. “How old are you?”

“I’m ten!” Dick announced proudly.

A weird look flickered over Clark’s face but it was gone before Dick could work out what it meant. He couldn’t be bothered to worry about it because Dick’s favourite superhero in the whole universe was talking to him! So cool!

It was over too soon, as Clark straightened, removing the warm hand from Dick’s shoulder and addressing the hall.

“Everyone back to business!” Superman ordered, then added in a much gentler voice to Dick, “Feel free to mingle, just stay out of trouble.”

Dick nodded fervently, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He couldn’t wait to talk to even more superheroes.

He was too distracted by his eagerness to notice Superman fixing Batman with a stern glare.

“Batman, a word.”

 ****************

Jason was a very different Robin when compared to Dick— something a person should never do as he rather despised being compared to the ‘golden child’. Where Dick was soft and lighthearted, Jason had rougher edges and a sharp wit. Where Dick was careful and calculated, Jason was reckless and harsh. Neither Robin was necessarily better than the other, but Bruce would be the first to admit the Dick’s style was significantly easier to manage than Jason’s. Jason was a bit more…wild. 

It didn’t phase Bruce. Despite Jason’s more aggressive personality, he still managed to argue with Bruce less than Dick did nowadays which was to say — constantly. Bruce supposed he and Jason were that bit more alike. They had the same anger, and Jason was the same type of intelligent as him. Not to say Dick wasn’t smart—he had flown through school with top marks in all classes. The only person who could possibly rival Dick’s hacking skills was Babs, and that was only because she taught Dick whatever he didn’t learn from Bruce. But Dick didn’t have the same eagerness to learn, the passion to know more that Jason had — the same passion Bruce had.

Where Dick was witty and charming, Jason was sarky and awkward. After attending only a couple of galas, Dick had fit in seamlessly, almost as if he had always been a part of the upper class circles. Jason had been to more galas than Bruce cared to recall and still he kept this air of not belonging around himself. He tended to revert into himself, becoming quiet and shy, avoiding attention at all cost. Dick had always been the centre of attention; perhaps his performing background helped that. The socialites were smitten with him, the gents always shaking his hand and laughing loudly at his quips while the ladies pinched his cheeks and cooed over him. Racist comments aside, one could even say Gotham’s upper class adored Dick Grayson. (Bruce was quick to cut ties with anyone who said such offensive remarks, whether it was in front of Dick or not. No one got to speak about his boy's heritage like that.) 

The socialites of Gotham were… less than fond of Jason Todd. 

As soon as Bruce had noticed this, which sadly was not before Jason had, he had been quick to remove anyone from the Wayne social circle who dared to mutter the words “street rat,” “charity case,” or anything of that sort. Bruce just wished he noticed the comments before Jason had ever had to hear them.

Yet again, Bruce supposed, the irony was it didn’t really matter what Bruce wished because he was not naive to the fact that Jason had been faced with those comments all his life. He had probably heard significantly worse from all types of people; types of people that mattered a lot more to him than “posh snobs” as Jason called them. (Bruce took pleasure in reminding him he had been adopted by a so-called ‘posh snob’ and watching as Jason turned beet-red, spluttering as he protested, “You know I didn’t mean you, Bruce!” It brought him much joy.) 

Another big difference between Bruce’s two boys was the eldest had always had a complete obsession and adoration for superheroes, specifically the Justice League, while the younger one was rather unimpressed.

“What did big, important, hoity-toity superheroes ever do for me, B? Not a whole lot!” he’d always complain.

Bruce’s response was always the same. “I seem to remember Batman coming in handy at least once in your life.”

“I said big and important superheroes, like Superman,” was the natural, cheeky reply.

And there was one big similarity that the boys shared. 

Once again Batman was not their favourite superhero.

With Dick it was fucking Superman. With Jason it was bloody Wonder Woman.

Admittedly, Diana Prince was a much better choice than Clark Kent, the country boy himbo. She was strong and intelligent and was willing to get her hands dirty if the need be, something Superman was extremely adverse to. But still, Bruce had taken in two kids, surely at least one of them would have Batman as their favourite superhero? It was demeaning to constantly have to buy his colleagues merch. Then again, maybe it was vain to buy your own merchandise. 

Where Dick had been excited about meeting the whole League and just extra excited to meet Superman, Jason didn't care for anyone who wasn't wearing a tiara and lasso of truth. 

At least his gushing was more bearable.

“She’s an actual Princess, Bruce. How sweet is that?

“Have you seen her do that cool thing with her gauntlets in real life?

“Bruce, can I get a lasso of truth?”

It was almost cute.

--------------------------

By the time it was Jason's turn to meet the Justice League, the League had become rather adjusted to the idea of Batman having a Robin. They'd been quick to get over the initial shock of Bruce replacing the one and only Dick Grayson with a smaller, skinnier model with an attitude. Many of them, namely Green Arrow and Green Lantern, had taken quite a liking to Jason’s unimpressed attitude and clever sarcasm. 

That was how Bruce found himself struggling to listen to whatever Clark was going on about as he watched his son roll his eyes and laugh with the two men across the room. So far Jason had failed to interact with anyone else yet, acting as if it was indifference rather than shyness that was stopping him from mingling. (Only Bruce knew this was the real reason Jason kept to himself so often) . 

Bruce should have prepared better for this, because of course, out of all the superheroes in the League Jason had to pick the two who shouldn’t be allowed around children because they themselves were children. To make matters worse, Dinah wasn’t even there to put the dumbasses in their place and make sure they didn’t completely ruin any innocence Jason had left.

“Bruce, are you listening to a word I’m saying?” A voice interrupted Bruce’s attempted eavesdropping.

Reluctantly, Bruce withdrew his gaze from Hal Jordan’s back, which he had been glaring daggers at, and turned back to Clark who was talking about something, Bruce didn’t know what. 

“Of course, continue.” 

Clark sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “You’re such a liar. If you’re worried about Jason just go check on him.”

“It’s not Jason I’m worried about but rather what those two are filling his head with.”

“So, Jay's a Green Arrow fan?” Clark queried, patting Bruce on the shoulder, “Bit of a change since Dick”

“You jealous, Kent? Determined to steal both my Robins?” Bruce grumbled “and I didn’t even know he knew who Green Arrow was. I’m very good at avoiding Oliver Queen and Hal Jordan’’ 

Clark let out a laugh, rolling his eyes at his friend's moodiness “I am well aware that you and Oliver are good friends and have been for a long time.”

This time it was Bruce's turn to roll his eyes, giving Clark a look that suggested he was missing something very obvious even through the cowl. 

“Being friends doesn't mean I want to be stuck on the receiving end of one of his infamous rants about capitalism or the bourgeoisie or whatever.”

“How very rich of you Bruce.”

Bruce was about to respond with something snarky but just as he opened his mouth, the person Bruce had been waiting for all afternoon walked in. 

Diana Prince.

Wonder Woman, Jason’s favourite superhero.

‘You wanted to know who Jason’s favourite superhero is? Well she’s just arrived. A much better choice than Dick’s, I must say.”

————————————

Jason was freaking out. Majorly. Completely. Majorly, completely utterly freaking out.

Wonder Woman had just introduced herself to him as Diana — like they were old pals or something. Jason was pretty sure he’d forgotten how to speak. And think. And breathe.

Wonder. Woman. 

“Erm. I’m Jason.” Wow Jay way to be eloquent. 

“Yes, Bruce has told me so much about you.” Dammit Bruce! “Especially what a good fighter you are. I couldn’t interest you in a friendly sparring match, could I?” Diana asked kindly, smiling warmly at an awestruck Jason.

This couldn't be real. In no world or dimension would Wonder Woman ask Jason Todd, the secondhand Robin, a street rat who got lucky, the chance to spar. 

At a loss for words, Jason nodded mutely, nearly fainting when Diana took him by the arm and guided him to the sparring mat. 

————————

Diana was a good fighter. Of course Jason already knew this when he agreed to spar; Jason had watched every recording, kept every news clipping, read every story about Wonder Woman to make it impossible for him not to know she was an exceptional fighter. Still knowing that and actually fighting her (albeit with her obviously going easy on Jason, who wouldn’t last two seconds against her otherwise) were two very different things.

Actually fighting her was indescribable. The obvious strength in each movement despite her clearly holding back was mind-blowing. She could rival Dick when it came to moving fluidly, each step part of an elegant dance. And above it all, they’d been going at it for a good hour or so which had left Jason huffing and puffing, drenched in sweat and struggling to stand up right, Diana however? Immaculate. Not a sweat broken. A perfect smile was plastered on her face, genuine and comforting. She continued to give out praise and helpful criticism to Jason throughout the whole session, laughing whenever Jason wheezed something snarky back. The only sign that Diana had been sparring was that a few strands of hair had fallen out of her ponytail. An hour of sparring and just a few strands of hair to show it. Absurd. Jason was a little bit in love. 

The way Diana fought was inhuman, no simple person could give off such a performance — it was impossible!

When Diana fought, the world was reminded she was a Demi-god. 

“You have much potential, young one! Keep learning and you will one day bloom into a mighty warrior!” Diana cheerfully announced, passing an out of breath Jason a bottle of water which he instantly downed. “We must do this again sometime.”

She said it so nonchalantly, oblivious to Jason’s internal freak out. Wonder Woman wanted to spar with him. Again.  

“Come now Jason, I hear boys your age have a deep admiration for aeroplanes. You must come see mine.”

Best. Day. Ever!

————

The child was dead. The sweet, humorous boy who was dripping with determination and potential was dead. Murdered under the worst circumstances. Subjected to unimaginable torture. Beaten an inch within his life, only to be killed later on. 

Diana often forgot how cruel the world of man was. 

She got so wrapped up in all the wonderful things that man had invented and all the beautiful creatures that walked upon the earth, that she often forgot that something so horrendous as a child dying could happen in the same place. It hurt her truly to be reminded of such things.

She had gone to the funeral. Partly for Bruce, partly for herself and partly because she felt it would be wrong if she didn’t come. Jason had adored her, though he tried to hide it. Bruce had told Diana many times how much Jason looked up to her, how desperately he wanted to be a hero just like her. It had always filled her with warmth to know she was such an inspiration to a young child, comforted her whenever she would have doubts about if she was good enough, it encouraged her to always be better.

She hadn't been enough to save Jason.

The weeks after Jason died were strange. Surreal, almost. Batman retreated into himself, putting up barriers between himself and the league. Diana found herself drifting from day to day, routinely and succinctly. There would be moments where she’d forget what had happened, where she would be thrown back into that blissful ignorance. she despised those moments because it meant she had to remember all over again. It was horrific.

There was a photograph that she always kept with her wherever she went. Jason was beaming in it, holding the lasso of truth and trying to look menacing and failing spectacularly at it. She remembered how wonderful the day had been. The two of them had spent all morning training, Diana teaching Jason increasingly harder moves. He had done such a wonderful job so as a reward Diana had let him ride in the invisible jet. He loved it. When they’d returned back to base, Jay had begged her to let him hold the lasso of truth and she had conceded quickly. He had looked so sweet she could not help but get him to pose for a photo.

It was this photo that Diana clutched to her chest as she cried one evening. Tears poured and poured until all she could do was sob dryly and hope the pain in her chest would go away with time.

It never did. 

********************

Stephanie Brown was 99% sure she was going to kill Batman. She was 100% sure was going to kill Bruce Wayne. She didn’t give a shit that they were the same person.

Why was she about to commit murder? Well, because Bruce was being a humongous pompous prick with a stick lodged so far up his ass Steph was surprised he could still walk. 

They’d been arguing for about an hour now, Bruce yelling about disobeying orders, Steph screaming back he wasn’t her dad, Bruce responding he wished she was more like the boys with Steph quickly replying he could stick that wish up his arse. Just a normal Tuesday evening. 

This was pretty normal for the two of them ever since Steph had taken over as Robin from Tim. At first the title had felt like an honour and Steph had tried her hardest to live up to all the name had stood for. However, she quickly realised why Dick and Jason had that hint of bitterness in their voices when they spoke about their times as Robin. It was constricting as hell. 

Rules were set for everything, some of them obviously for safety reasons while there were others that seemed to be there just to boost Batman’s ego. Forget about following your gut instinct, you do something bold that Batman doesn’t like, it’ll be labelled as reckless and taking unnecessary risks. Want to branch out on your own a bit? Explore your ability away from Batman’s shadow? Forget it! That title of partner is only for show — Batman says ‘jump’, Robin says, ‘how high?’ 

Complete fucking bullshit.

Steph wasn’t surprised that Bruce’s relationship with the boys was so strained if this was what they had had to put up with. Especially if it was out of costume as well. Bloody hell was that man emotionally constipated. Steph found herself pissed at him nearly constantly and he wasn’t even her dad. 

Okay so maybe he was a tiny bit of a father figure to her, but considering her dad was a literal criminal can you blame her for seeing ‘good guy’ Bruce Wayne as a healthier male role model? Did that make her emotionally vulnerable and weaken her defences against Bruce being a dick? Yes. Did that mean that sometimes she cried herself to sleep after a fight with him? Also yes. But it was totally fine. 

“Enough, Robin!” The high volume and conviction behind the voice paired with the way it cut through the cave, silencing even the bats, made Stephanie’s blood run cold. She froze, cutting off mid-sentence.

“Are you firing me, Bruce? Because if you are, at the very least, call me by my name,” Steph muttered through clenched teeth, struggling to maintain anger when tears were burning her eyes. 

Steph was shocked once again, as Batman reached up and removed his cowl, running a hand through his hair and soon Stephanie was staring into the tired eyes of Bruce Wayne. 

“I’m not firing you, Stephanie,” Bruce sighed, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly, “but this can’t keep happening. You need a role model and obviously that isn’t me.”

“Yeah, no shit. All you do is compare me to the boys and tell me what to do. There’s no freedom Bruce. It's suffocating!”

“I’ve been speaking to Black Canary, and she’s happy to let you shadow the Birds of Prey for a couple of weeks. Just until you understand the importance of following orders. Plus, there are many skills the group can teach you.”

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod..

“You’re joking? You’re not joking!” Steph was in a state of disbelief. The Birds of Prey were made up of some of the coolest heroes ever. Not to mention that they were an all female team and Steph had been stuck surrounded with lovable but dumbass boys for way too long. There had to be a catch — this was too good to be true. Not only did she get to explore being a vigilante and develop her skills, but she’s also got to hang out with Black Canary, Huntress, Catwoman, and Oracle. 

Steph had always admired superheroes, so much that she became one. Growing up with a low level crook for a dad in a poorer area of Gotham had radicalised Stephanie in a way. She didn’t agree with the way Bruce handled low level thieves because she knew what it was like to have a family to provide for and no job to do so. She despised the supervillains that took advantage of the poor, recruiting them into a life of criminal dirty work and letting them take the fall when plans go astray. It was borderline barbaric.

So she had become a hero in the hope of spreading some equality in Gotham. To give the poor a fighting chance. 

Perhaps it was an unachievable task; Gotham city was well known for being corrupt right to its core. But it wasn’t any less feasible than Bruce’s war against crime as a whole. As long Bruce believed he could heal Gotham, Stephanie would continue to believe she could make a difference to the less fortunate. 

God, she was so going to impress the birds of prey. Female inspirations at the highest. Steph was a bit in love.

“When do I start?”

———————

Black canary was literally the coolest. Bruce had dropped her off at the birds of prey's headquarters early the next morning, offering a gruff “be good” before leaving, giving Catwoman, who was lounging luxuriously on a sofa, a nod of acknowledgement as he went.

Those two were totes banging, Steph was sure of it. She had like a sixth sense for those sorts of things. Tim said it was called being observant, but Steph called it her superpower. 

After Batman had done that weird disappearing act of his, Steph was left standing in a doorway that lead to a wide open room that had a living room set up on one side where catwoman was, a big, multi screened computer in the centre, where oracle was hard at work and then a sparring area that included training dummies, various training and real weapons, plus a boxing ring where huntress and black canary were currently sparring. She felt a bit awkward standing there with all her bags, in civvies instead of her costume, eyes fixated on the way Black Canary's muscles flexed as she blocked a punch. 

Wow, could those ladies fight. The skill and careful calculation behind each move left Steph weak at the knees. She was completely fixated on the strong biceps and powerful thighs as they glided around the ring. The way Black Canary’s legs looked in those fishnets was devious and Steph had just realised that she might be bi. She definitely was. Women, yes.

The sparring session ended when Black Canary managed to hook her foot around Huntress’ ankle and sent her tumbling to the floor, with Canary standing triumphantly above her. It took all of Steph’s self control not to ogle at the way sweat caressed Canary’s brow and how her chest rose then fell as she tried to catch her breath.

So maybe Steph had a bit of a crush. So what? Who wouldn’t? God she was so totally Bi.

But if she was bisexual then there was no way Tim was straight. It couldn’t be possible. But then if Tim wasn’t, then Kon wasn’t either… 

it had just hit her that Tim and kon were dating. Sly bastards.

Cool, so superheroes were pretty gay. That worked for Steph.

“Hi, I’m Dinah Lance”

Steph had been so wrapped up in her gay musings that she hadn’t noticed Black canary approaching her. Caught off guard, Steph was left staring at the beautiful woman dumbly. Surprisingly she managed to stumble out a “Hi I’m Stephanie” which was impressive considering the only thought running through her head was Step on me. Please step on me.

How on earth did she not realise she was bisexual sooner.

“Well Stephanie, welcome to the birds of prey.” Black Canary smiled warmly, “Let me show you around and introduce you to everyone.”

Dinah showed Stephanie around the headquarters, pointing out significant things and explaining how certain stuff was used. Stephanie did her best to not let her mind wander but it was getting increasingly harder as they progressed, Steph getting distracted by things such as how good Dinah smelt. 

“So this is Helena, our resident grump, feel free to ignore her.” Dinah teased,laughing melodically when Helena punched her playfully.

“If you think I’m a grump then wait until you see Dinah without her morning coffee.” Helena shot back as she shook Stephanie's hand. “Bruce has told us good things about you, I’m hoping you can live up to it.”

Well that didn’t make any sense. Bruce saying nice things about her? Unlikely.

“He also said you’ve got authority issues. We’ll be quick to change that.” Grinned Helena, voice serious.

Yeah that seemed more like it.

“Like I said: feel free to ignore her. She’s just trying to psych you out” Dinah assured Steph, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Steph was surprised she didn’t faint. 

They moved on, leaving Helena to go get changed.

Next they went over to Barbara. Obviously Stephanie already knew Babs, having worked with her multiple times. They said their hellos before leaving Babs to her work, her furious typing echoing around the room.

Finally they arrived at where Catwoman was lounging, casually flipping through a magazine that was filled with pictures of shiny gems and elegant necklaces.

Lazily, Catwoman stretched, putting her magazine down and standing gracefully. She was a tall woman;slinky and lean, where Dinah was muscular and toned. She was clearly flexible, her limbs long and strong. 

“Nice to be formally acquainted, birdy. I’m Selina, though I’m sure you already knew that, Batman never was very good at respecting others' secret identities. About time Bruce had a female Robin, the roles had far too much testosterone for my tastes.” 

Now Steph was well aware she had an awful habit of letting her mouth run without it checking in with her brain. This was one of those moments when that happened. She had meant to say hello and introduce herself but instead ended up blurting out:

“Are you and Batman banging?”

Slamming a mortified hand over her mouth, Steph’s eyes widened in horror at Selina’s stunned expression. 

There was an awkward moment of silence before Dinah burst out laughing succinctly followed by Selina.

“She’s got you there ‘Lina”

Relaxing almost instantly, Steph shrugged.

 “It’s my superpower”

She was going to nail this!

***************************

Tim was the nerdy Robin. This was a rather well known fact. What was a lesser known fact was that Jason was the original nerdy Robin but now he was the angry Robin. Before Jason was the angry Robin, Dick was the angry Robin now he was just a substitute emotion-capable father figure.

But anyway, Tim was a nerd. He was not ashamed of this fact, rather his mind was something he was extremely proud of. At thirteen he’d managed to deduce Batman and Robin’s identities just by connecting the dots between a flip and a certain circus acrobat he’d seen years ago. He had helped solve countless cases, some even Bruce, the genius philanthropist, had struggled with. Countless numbers of people had been saved due to Tim being smart enough to help them.

All in all, there was little reason for Tim to be ashamed of being a nerd.

However, being a nerd and therefore clever did not mean he was good at school. Tim had a habit of prioritising other things such as cases and improving his detective skills over his homework and school studies. He found the things taught in school to be very mundane. He often got to work with (and against) super powered people and aliens, algebra just seemed pointless compared to that.

Alfred often scolded him for the late nights he spent half heartedly scraping together pieces of homework. Bruce never directly said anything but Tim could tell he was getting frustrated with all the phone calls about missed work and failed assignments. 

Tim felt a bit guilty about all the trouble he was causing and was quickly tiring of Bruce’s passive aggressive ways to encourage him to actually do schoolwork.

It mainly included not-so-subtle comments about how much potential Tim had and how well he’d do in college (which, you know, coming from Bruce? Massive compliment. Emotional constipated father figure, who?), plus switching Tim’s coffee to decaf so he falls asleep (Tim didn’t speak to him for a month when he found out) and finally setting up weird activities to “try and engage him in learning”.

A+ for effort. 

Tim wanted to be a vigilante detective. He’d like to grow out of Robin and take on his own mantle when the time was right— he didn’t need school for that. He needed training and learning to solve cases and practice jumping across rooftops. 

Kon had suggested studying to be in the police but Tim would rather spend the weekend with the Joker. Anyway, why on earth would he take advice from someone who was like three years old and had never been to school before? 

Currently Bruce was doing one of his weird activities designed to trick Tim into loving school. They were going on a bit of a road trip. In costume.

Well technically semi in costume as they were travelling in civvies. Tim had no idea where they were going and the lack of knowing was killing Tim. He was dreading whatever Bruce had planned. B did his best to try and be a good father figure to them all after both Selina and Stephanie gave him two separate lectures about how all his ‘kids’ were touchstarved and emotionally repressed but Bruce was never one to try conventional measures. 

They arrived outside a simple looking hotel, much plainer than one which Brucie Wayne would be found staying out. Which meant the two of them weren’t there as playboy billionaire and the heir to the Drake fortune, no, they were there as Tim and Bruce. Somehow Robin and Batman mixed into all of this as well. Helpfully, his brain supplied the phrase ‘many questions. Much confusion’, which at least added a humorous twist to the situation. 

Once they had checked in (under fake aliases Tim noted), the pair was quick to unpack. Bruce had told Tim that it would just be a weekend trip so neither of them had brought a lot of stuff. Surprisingly they did not head out immediately like Tim had expected but instead killed the time watching movies and crappy tv together. Tim had to admit he enjoyed it— it was rare they got time together, just the two of them. They had just finished dinner, when Bruce glanced at the small digital clock on the dresser and nodded.

“Right, time to get changed.”

———————

Tim was starting to feel very apprehensive about this entire trip. Once they’d changed into their costumes, they’d headed out, stopping a few minor crimes here and there. He didn’t mind the small incidents, they seemed more personal, saving a single person, than the large scale crimes.  A little while later they stopped outside a tall and daunting office building. Wordlessly Bruce entered in a code on the small, dust covered keypad before heading inside. Tim reluctantly followed.

Inside Tim discovered that the office building was rather ordinary, it was filled with cubicles and laboratories and computer desks. All were free of people except a lab at the far end of the corridor which was letting off a dim glow and the sound of someone typing. Batman quickly strode along the corridor towards the lit room and Tim, whose interest had piqued significantly, was sharp on his heels.

Peering through the doorway, Tim saw that the room was filled with tables covered in what looked like various pieces of alien tech. It was a pretty cool sight. Behind one of the desks was a middle aged man with rust coloured hair tinkering away with some of the tech, stopping every now and then to furiously scribble down notes.

“Robin, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine.”

At the sound of Bruce’s gruff voice the man looked up, hands still fidgeting with the tech. 

“Batman! So good to see you!” The man placed the tech carefully down on the table and rushed over to the pair. “ And this must be Robin. Ted Kord, nice to meet you” the man said excitedly, offering Tim a hand to shake.

If Tim had been drinking at that moment he would have done a spit-take. 

Ignoring the hand completely, Tim exclaimed, “Blue Beetle?”

Okay this was by far the coolest way Bruce had tried to get him interested in learning. Getting to meet the freaking genius that was Ted Kord.

“Please call me Ted, Batman may insist on secret identities, but I see no reason to when among friends” Ted smiled. “So Bruce tells me that you’re a pretty smart kid? Want to help me figure some of this stuff out? I’ve got tech from all over the place, plus the scarab which I still haven’t got to work yet.”

Tim was speechless, mutely following Ted over to all the tech. God he was like a kid in a sweet shop. 

“Let’s get to work”

————————

Bruce watched in amusement as Ted and Tim hit it off like a house on fire, chattering away about different pieces of tech and bouncing theories off each other. It was a whirlwind of technological jargon that Bruce didn’t care to understand though he no doubtedly could if he tried. He allowed himself a small smile, subtly snapping a picture of the two as Tim spoke animatedly. So maybe it wasn’t the most conventional way to get time interested in school, nor was it really the most conventional subject but this was the most engaged Bruce had seen Tim be in a long time on something other than a case. So it was a mission well done.

And Bruce was sure Ted’s nerdiness would encourage Tim to actually do his homework.

***************************

Dick had no idea how to raise a child. He was twenty-five, happily single and, until a few weeks ago, had no plans of becoming a father any time soon. 

He wasn’t exactly a dad. It’s not like he’d managed to knock up one of his many love affairs or some crazy scientist fooled about with his genetics. (You’d be surprised how often that happens.) No, instead Bruce had decided to get himself killed and leave the traumatised assassin kid who had been around for less than a month to Dick. On top of being raised in a cult-like environment, Damian was also biologically related to Bruce, which just added a whole other layer of fucked-uppery. 

Which left Dick to play pseudo-father to Damian as well as big brother to Tim and sort of Jason, but he also had to be a moral boundary to Jason plus keep an eye on Stephanie and Cass whilst also taking up the Batman mantle. It was fine. He was fine. 

Jason was… Jason was struggling and Dick was doing his best to do damage control. He was doing his best not to handle it like Bruce would.

Because he had sworn to himself the moment he took up the cowl that he would not become Bruce. He’d do better— just like what everyone expected of him.

So it hadn’t taken long for Dick to move Damian and Tim out of the manor which had felt way too empty without Bruce and into the Wayne enterprise penthouse. Alfred had come too and the girls had decided to take care of the cave which Dick was eternally grateful for. Things had been going well until they weren’t. 

Dick knew he was struggling to control the Damian-Tim situation (the situation being Damian kind of, maybe, tried to kill Tim) and he definitely added fuel to the fire when he gave Dami Robin. He just didn’t realise how bad it had gotten. He had mistaken deeply-rooted self esteem issues and long term insecurities for differences between brothers, a clash between personalities. And before he knew it, Tim had convinced himself Bruce was alive and was off trying to find proof. 

So, as everyone can so clearly see, Dick was doing a splendid job of keeping everything from falling apart. 

At least things with Damian were going somewhat positively. The kid had taken to being Robin like a moth to a flame and he hadn’t tried to seriously maim or kill anyone in like a week so that was definitely an improvement. He still didn’t quite understand why they couldn’t just execute criminals but Dick supposed that was just common ground when you’re raised in a creepy murder cult. He was determined to do this right, be a better ‘dad’ to Damian than Bruce was to him. He just didn’t feel ready…

——————-

Damian was angry. This was often his default emotion but today he was extra angry. His new family was made up of bumbling idiots, the only exception perhaps being Pennyworth. And while Grayson’s presence was acceptable he was still utterly incapable. Yet he was meant to be Batman after his fathers untimely death. Ridiculous. His mother would be appalled. But then she had never been fond of Bruce’s other “children”. She had described them as foolish ragamuffins who were not Bruce’s true children and were a smear to his name. Damian wasn’t sure how much of that he actually agreed with. Todd and drake? Complete idiots, an embarrassment. Grayson? Damian wasn’t so sure. Grayson was…stubborn. It was a factor Damian had found initially rather irritating. Grayson was determined to give him affection, going out of his way to ruffle Damian’s hair, or give him a hug or a pat on the head. His efforts were persistent and humiliating. He was the grandson of the Demon’s head, he did not need affection, just acknowledgement of his success and punishment for his failures. It was clear Grayson thought differently.

Over time, especially after his father’s death, Damian had grown use to the displays, begrudgingly allowing them. He would even go as far as to say he had grown… fond of Grayson’s company. 

The best thing about Grayson is that he had awarded Damian with the title of Robin. Of course it was his birthright as was the Batman mantle but it was still an honour to have his skill recognised, even from an inferior. 

They had gotten to be …sufficient together. Grayson was admittedly a good fighter and he made an acceptable Batman. He even encouraged Damian to have fun, which was a near foreign concept to him. They worked well together, both quick to adapt to each other’s fighting styles, filling in the others blind spots. They were efficient. Pathetic criminals held no chance.

There were rules though, rules that contradicted everything Damian had been taught, rules he didn’t really understand, but he adapted. If he must follow rules in order to be Robin then he would do so. He was a good soldier.

That was another thing about Grayson. He had this habit of insisting Damian was a child. Damian was young, yes, but he was no child. He had been trained by the best of the best, he knew how to kill a man in more ways than anyone could comprehend. He did not need to play, he needed to train. He did not need school, the league had given all the knowledge he could ever need, his tutors were the most highly sought after.

Yet Grayson insisted. Insisted on him going to school. Insisted on him making friends. Insisted on having fun. It was infuriating.

However school had perhaps taught him a thing or two. His academic level was much higher than those of his classmates but it seemed what he had been taught was apparently rather biased. It had caused Damian to lock himself in his room to think and think and think until everything he thought he knew was adjusted. Then he had found Grayson and they had talked and talked. About everything Damian was taught, about what it was like living with the league, his training, his mother and grandfather. About school and learning, even about Drake and Todd. And then they talked about their father. 

It was not long after that that ‘Grayson’ became ‘Richard’ and ‘Damian’ became ‘Dami’. Damian was glad of the adjustment.

————————-

One night, unable to sleep, Damian had crept downstairs with the intention of getting a hot chocolate (Richard had gotten him hooked on the sweet stuff) when he heard hushed voices coming from the kitchen. It appeared that Richard and Pennyworth were still up. Not wanting to interrupt, Damian snuck close to the door, doing his best to keep quiet. He honestly hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. He found himself watching the two through the gap of the doors. Pennyworth was standing while Richard sat slouched at the island, they both had mugs clutched in their hands; Pennyworth’s was most likely filled with some sort of tea while Richard’s was more likely to be hot chocolate with an unreasonable amount of sugar in it. Richard looked tired. From what Damian could see, he had dark shadows under his eyes and almost looked like he had been crying. 

“I just don’t know what I’m doing Alfie. Tim’s god knows where, Jason’s on a rampage, quite clearly off his meds and Damian…” Dick trailed off, his voice wet.

“Master Damian is thriving. You are doing a wonderful job. As for master Tim and master Jason. They are both old enough to take care of themselves” Alfred finished, fixing Richard with a firm look.

“But Tim’s—”

“Master Tim has been making decisions for himself for long enough now. The boy is growing into quite the young man.”

“I don’t know Alfie. I feel like everything’s falling apart.”

Alfred frowned, huffing, “Master Dick it is not your responsibility to hold everything together. You are only one man.”

“So was Bruce.” Dick argued tiredly.

“And as you’ll remember, he quite often made a stupendous mess of things.”

“Maybe so but I worry about Damian.”

Why would Richard be worrying about him? He was doing well, he was not ill, he was successfully completing his homework, he was doing well as Robin. There was no need for him to worry. 

“He met his dad only to lose him and I feel like I’m a bit of a lousy replacement”

Damian had heard enough. Pushing open the doors, he fixed Richard with a stern stare.

“Richard, you are being ridiculous. You are far from a lousy replacement, in fact you have been performing rather efficiently. You have no need to worry about me, I am well and adjusted, thanks to you that is. You must stop this worrying at once!”

Damian was worried he’d said something wrong as Richard looked close to tears but before he knew it he was being swept up into a tight hug. He wanted to protest but then figured perhaps this was more for Richard's benefit than his own.

“Thanks, Dami” 

—————————-

His father was alive. Drake had been right after all.

Grayson had left.

—————————-

It had been a long time since Damian had seen Grayson. After his father came back Grayson just disappeared. Damian refused to admit he was hurt by this, instead throwing all his energy into proving what a worthy Robin he was to his father. However after a month, Damian had decided he had had enough of Grayson’s half-arsed excuses and took matters into his own hands.

That was how the two of them ended up sitting on the edge of a Blüdhaven building, the sky dark and filled with stars, the air clear and slightly warm. Damian watched as his legs dangled off the edge. They sat in uncomfortable silence, each of them waiting for the other to make the first move.

“Does your dad know you’re here?” Dick broke the silence first, heaving a big sigh.

“He is aware” Damian muttered back, annoyed that that was the first thing Grayson said after not seeing him for over a month. No apology, no explanation, nothing.

They fell into silence once more, Grayson swinging his legs aimlessly.

Once again Dick broke the silence.

“Why are you here, Dami?” He sounded so tired and that was the only thing stopping Damian from taking great offence at the question.

He didn’t really know how to answer the question. Why was he here? Why had he travelled all the way from Gotham to Blüdhaven all by himself? What was his goal here?

“Father was cross that you had not replied to him.” A complete lie. “He requires your help with a case.” Not a lie but definitely not the reason Damian had come all this way.

“That’s the reason you came?” Dick asked, clearly not believing him.

“You haven’t been responding to our messages, I thought it safest to deliver the message personally.” Damian faltered, unsure what to say next. “And perhaps…”

“Perhaps?” Grayson encouraged, giving him a reassuring smile. 

“Perhaps… I was looking for an excuse to…” Damian continued before being interrupted by Grayson.

“You missed me.” Damian turned towards Grayson, surprised. Grayson sat there with a huge grin spread across his face, nudging Damian playfully. “Aww, that’s cute Dami.”

Damian scowled, scooting away from Grayson and turning so he couldn’t see his face. His bottom lip trembled and he would not cry! He was not a baby! Crossing his arms around his chest and feeling more and more like a child than he had ever felt before he asked the question that had been bugging him ever since his father came back.

“Why did you leave?” The ‘Why did you leave me?’ remained unspoken. 

Grayson sighed heavily, placing a hand on Damian’s shoulder, trying to get him to unfurl. 

“I felt that was what you needed,” Grayson responded. He sounded sad. “You needed to get to know your dad and I would just get in the way. I thought it was the best way to give you a chance to form a relationship with Bruce.” 

“That wasn’t your choice to make!” Damian yelled, spinning round and wrenching Grayson’s hand off him. 

Dick put his hands up in surrender. With a deep and heavy sight, Dick turned away, brow set firmly.

“When your dad came back, there was a moment I thought it would be better for you if you stayed with me. As my partner. As my..”

Damian was shocked. He hadn’t expected that to say the least. Richard had wanted to take him with him. Damian wanted to ask so many questions. Why? Why hadn’t he? What changed his mind? But all he managed was a quiet, 

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Richard confirmed, and for a moment Damian thought he wasn’t going to continue. Then he took a deep breath and went on. “But then I thought I was too young, too untethered. I thought I might not be able to handle the responsibility. I was afraid I’d be bad at being a “dad”.”

Damian couldn’t believe what he just heard. Richard had wanted to be his dad. He didn’t know how he felt about that. He already had a father but he wasn’t too proud to admit that Richard was important to him in a way that he didn’t quite understand. More than an older brother. 

“You wouldn’t have been. You wouldn’t have been a bad dad.”

Richard hugged him. Damian let him.

Chapter Text

[IMAGE ID: young dick grayson as robin does a one-handed handstand on clark kent as superman's shoulders. dick is smiling and excited, clark is a little confused. the background of the picture is a neutral gray. the art is framed by a white border, like a polaroid picture. signature reads "ABCATT" in the lower right corner. END ID]

art by user justjellyjackal

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Work by @bamboozled_and_alone

[ID: a digital drawing of tim drake and ted kord, both in full uniform as robin and blue beetle. ted is holding a chemical flask full of something bright green, and there is a bunsen burner, still aflame, in front of him. tim is looking at ted's hands, where he is swirling the liquid. END ID]

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Work by Jdrawsanddoodles on Instagram.