Chapter Text
Matt didn’t know what to make of the three newcomers when he sensed them, only that one had a gun, one wasn’t pulling their punches, and one seemed to be using magic. He didn’t need bodies piling up in Hell’s Kitchen, even if they were members of the crumbling Hand, so he had hurried in along with the others, prepared to either stop the fight or join the fight. They hadn’t yet noticed them, so if Matt and the others needed to, they could take them by surprise.
So, he wasn’t exactly sure why Clint grabbed his arm to keep him from doing anything, but he received his answer with a choked gasp from Damian.
“Richard.”
It was clear to Matt which one Damian was referring to: the one that seemed to defy gravity with every movement. The one with the brutal yet elegant efficiency. The one that was both amazing and terrifying, like a panther stalking in the night, quick and agile with deadly precision.
That was the famous Richard “Dick” Grayson that Damian and the Avengers mentioned over and over with a loveable fondness. The one with an erratic, thundering heartbeat and waves of heat rolling off his skin.
The one that was seething with anger.
Dick kicked the leader of this faction of the Hand into the wall, leaving a dent in the drywall and cracks in the man’s ribs. He was the only one still awake after the takedown of the other members. Matt had never come across anyone who worked so quickly and efficiently against trained Hand members aside from Elektra.
Dick grabbed the man by his collar, holding him up against the wall, and held an electrified escrima stick threateningly near his neck. “Where is he?” he snarled.
Damian ran past the group, further onto the spacious floor of the empty warehouse, and cried, “Richard!”
Dick’s muscles tensed at the sound of Damian’s voice, and he dropped the man, letting him crumple to the ground. Dick spun around, and upon seeing Damian, he dropped his escrima stick, let out a sigh of relief, and rushed forward, every hint of his previous anger disappearing in a matter of seconds.
Damian met him halfway and jumped into Dick’s arms, the two holding each other as tight as they could as Damian buried his face into the crook of Dick’s shoulder. Dick spun him around before kneeling on the floor, Damian’s legs and arms still wrapped around him.
“Richard, you came,” Damian whispered against his skin.
“Of course I did, Baby Bat.” Dick ran a hand through Damian’s hair. “I’d never forget my little robin. Me mangava tut.”
“Ana uhibbuk, Baba.”
A sharp groan interrupted the silence as the man with the guns kicked the Hand leader hard in the ribs and leveled a gun at him, threatening, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
The voice was distorted by whatever metal thing was on his head, and Matt was incredibly concerned by the smell of. . . C4? Matt was so distracted by it that it took him a moment to realize that the Hand faction leader had been trying to reach for Dick’s discarded escrima stick.
The woman waved her hand and said, “Niartser dna gag mih!” Not a moment later did ropes appear around the man, binding and gagging him.
Matt just wanted to go back to a time without magic in his everyday life.
“Awesome,” Peter breathily muttered in child-like wonder.
“You got him, Zee?” the gunman asked.
“I’ve got him, Hood,” the woman, Zee, replied with a silky-smooth voice.
The gunman, Hood, holstered his weapon, plucked Dick’s escrima stick up from the floor, and joined Dick and Damian. After returning the escrima stick to the magnetized attachment on the back of Dick’s suit, he said, “Alright, hand the kid over, Dickhead.”
“Shut up, Jason,” Dick growled, holding Damian tighter in response. Damian moved one hand in a quick movement, too small and quick for Matt’s senses to pick up, but he didn’t need to.
Jason, as he was now named, scoffed indignantly. “Don’t flip me off, you little shit. I will cook Jerry.”
Damian grumbled but extracted himself from Dick’s hold to hug Jason. Despite the harsh words, Matt picked up the way both of their pulses relaxed as they hugged each other. Harsh words hid soft hearts.
Jason was the one that Frank reminded Damian of, Matt remembered Frank telling him, and Matt could understand it after that brief exchange. The guns, the gruffness, the hidden sentimentality. And it made the C4 in Jason’s helmet make a little more sense: a desperation to finish the job or die trying. Or perhaps a not-so-secret death wish. The helmet was still annoying to Matt’s senses though, as was the electrified pulse coursing through Dick's suit.
When Damian and Jason pulled out of the hug, Damian gravitated back to Dick’s side, sticking close as Dick waved and said, “Nice to see you guys again.”
“Your family’s luck could be better,” Natasha said, a teasing lilt in her tone.
“That’s nothing new,” Jason said. “I see you have new friends.”
“Locals,” Natasha said. “They’re the ones who found your boy and brought him to us.”
“He moves like you do,” Matt pointed out, gesturing in Dick and Damian’s direction.
Dick shrugged, looking down at Damian with his own smile. “Či perel a phabaj kathar pesko kaš maj dur,” he said, mostly to Damian.
No one seemed to know what it meant aside from Damian who glowered at Dick as his cheeks and neck heated up in embarrassment. “Shut up, Richard.”
Dick beamed and pulled Damian to his side, which Damian didn’t argue against, relaxing against him as Dick kept his arm wrapped around the kid’s shoulders.
“Aww, that’s adorable,” Clint teased at Damian’s embarrassment. He went unfazed at Damian’s glaring. “Anyway, Dick, remember how we were comparing heroes and the weird variations?”
“Obviously,” Dick said, amused. “Circus kids turned spies isn’t exactly a commonly shared backstory.”
Clint snorted and laughed. “Good point, but anyway, this is Daredevil.” He pointed at Matt who leaned away in confusion at him being singled out. What the hell did he have to do with this? “Parkour skills to the nine, uses billy clubs, very acrobatic, nighttime vigilante.” Then he pointed at Frank. “And that’s the Punisher. Uses guns, kills more than he arrests—”
“Really?” Frank said, giving him an unamused look. “The kid compared us to them yesterday and pulled way more meaningful bull from his ass than you just did.”
“Maybe because this is our first actual conversation,” Clint pointed out with as much snark as he could. “You’re more fun when you’re making fun of Daredevil’s outfit and ignoring little ol’ me.”
“Does everyone need to bring up the suit?” Matt couldn’t help but ask.
“You look like the main attraction at a sex club,” Frank said. “Yes, we need to bring up the outfit, Red.”
“Hey, I’ve said that to Dickie,” Jason said, and they could hear the smile in his voice from beneath the helmet.
“I’m going to ignore that in favor of being told what comparison Dami made,” Dick said, looking down at Damian still pressed against his side.
Frank made a dismissive noise. “Eh, it wasn’t anything bad. Mostly just our dynamic and Red reminding him of his dads.” Damian glared at the teasing grin that slowly spread across Frank’s face. He knew exactly what he was doing by using Damian’s words verbatim.
Matt heard a sharp intake of breath from Dick before Dick exclaimed, “Dami!” and hugged Damian even closer to his side, worming both of his arms around him in an inescapable hold.
“Just to be clear, you mean Dick and Bruce, right?” Jason asked, unfazed by Damian struggling to fight against Dick’s octopus hug. “Not me?”
“Obviously,” Damian answered in the most bored tone he could muster, doing his best to shove Dick away from him. “You’re a menace at best.”
“Damn right, I am.”
“Aww, Dami, look at you, opening up to people,” Dick playfully gushed with the most obnoxious teasing voice he could muster. “I’m so proud.”
“Shut up, Richard. Get off me.” Damian’s struggling didn’t work considering Dick was bigger and stronger, so he gave up, sinking back into Dick’s smothering embrace. “You’re so annoying.”
“And you love me.”
Damian didn’t deny it even though he rolled his eyes.
“Dick, don’t suffocate him,” the woman said as she joined them, having finished sufficiently tying up the Hand members so they were not going anywhere.
“That’s Zatanna, by the way,” Dick introduced, motioning to their sparkly companion as he gave Damian breathing room. “She’s a magician.”
“Hi,” Zatanna said with her own wave. “It’s great to meet you. Dick hasn’t shut up about the cool spy or circus archer, and Tim mentioned the techy spider boy a few times.”
At first, Clint found himself flattered to be mentioned until he realized something upon closer inspection of the new person. Zatanna was, first and foremost, drop-dead gorgeous in a black tailcoat, top hat, high-waisted shorts, white vest, fishnets, and heeled thigh-high boots. It made Clint wonder what the hell she was doing in a dingy Hell’s Kitchen warehouse kicking bad guy ass with magic instead of retiring early from being an international model.
But she had a select few other features that Clint noticed.
“Okay, what the hell is up with your universe and people with black hair and blue eyes?” Clint had to ask. “Is it everyone? Or just everyone you associate with? But that wouldn’t make sense because you and Jason joked about your relationships with redheads, so what the actual hell?”
Everyone paused as they stared at Clint in confusion, concern, and amusement, no one quite sure of how to react. Frank and Matt especially had no idea where his line of questioning was quite coming from, but they hadn’t met Kon, Billy, and Tim the last time, only the four that were currently in the room with them. Not like Matt could see their specific features anyway, and Frank certainly didn’t know what Jason looked like with the helmet still on him or what Dick's eye color was behind the domino mask.
Peter and Natasha did know what Clint was referring to though.
“I didn’t think this would be so entertaining,” Peter whispered to Natasha.
Natasha’s eyes glittered with amusement as she watched Clint’s erratic hand movements. “I didn’t think it was bothering him this much,” she replied.
He had brought up the coloration twice since they had last seen Dick and the others which she hadn’t given much thought. But of course, Clint always managed to surprise her. Only he could truly manage to be so unpredictable and chaotic.
“Father does seem to have a problem collecting people that look like him,” Damian started to agree, but then he shook his head as he continued, “but no, there is plenty of genetic variation.”
“He kind of has a point though,” Zatanna said while laughing. “Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman all have black hair and blue eyes. Then Superman’s kids and most of Batman’s kids. Me and my father. Superman’s wife. Captain Marvel and Lady Marvel. If most of them are the ones he’s been exposed to, then the small sample size might seem like a majority. But on the other side is Dick’s redheads.”
“We don’t need to talk about my redheads,” Dick quickly said with a groan. “And maybe we just gravitate toward each other. Not a big deal.”
“You’re very defensive about your redheads,” Peter said, chuckling.
“It wasn’t on purpose,” Dick whined, exasperatedly shrugging. “I just like the color red, I guess. Case in point.” He jutted a thumb at Jason.
“Maybe your suit should be red then,” Clint said.
“Eh, been there, done that. It was okay. I like red, but I look better in blue.”
“We don’t need anyone else in the family wearing red anyway,” Jason argued. “Steph’s cutting it close with purple, and Kate, Replacement, Demon Spawn, and I are more than enough with the red.”
Damian shot a glare at Jason the moment he heard the nickname. “Dead Hood,” he spat back.
“Gremlin,” Jason easily replied with an eye roll which was obvious by the way his head moved with the helmet.
But Damian wasn’t done. “Street Rat.”
“Pipsqueak.”
“Buckethead.”
“Baby Brat.”
“Zombie Bird.”
“Knock it off, both of you,” Dick interrupted, tone sharp and biting. He sighed, wiping a hand over his face, and then he perked back up. “So, do we call the police about the unconscious bodies or what?”
Matt really had no idea how to react after everything he just heard and sensed, so he drew out, “Right.” He turned in Frank’s direction. “Frank?”
“On it, Red,” Frank said, pulling out his phone.
“Wait, we still need all the spell stuff!” Peter blurted.
“Spell?” Zatanna repeated curiously.
“Yeah, it’s the whole reason we came here,” Peter started explaining. “We asked Dr. Strange for help sending Damian back to your universe like he did last time with the others, but he said there was a spell that was keeping him bound to this Earth, and we needed to get the spell book that the bad guys used to summon him here.”
“Hence the summoning circle behind you,” Clint added, pointing behind her and the Robins.
Zatanna, Dick, and Jason turned to look at the circle and Latin words drawn on the floor, and Zatanna started laughing. “What kind of amateur bullshit is that?” she asked. “Damian, you’re bound with that?” She continued to laugh.
“I don’t see how this is amusing, Zatara,” Damian said, narrowing his eyes at her.
“Oof, last name basis again,” Jason said with a chuckle. “Tough shit, Zee.”
“Oh, please.” Zatanna waved her hand. “He’s about as threatening as an angry kitten.”
“Your last name is Zatara?” Peter asked. “Your name is Zatanna Zatara?” She looked at him, almost waiting for either more questions or an insult, but he grinned. “That’s awesome! That’s like the coolest name ever!”
Zatanna smiled at him. “I like you, kid.” She then began to turn toward the unconscious Hand members. “Let me just deal with this real quick.” She walked to the center of the room and held her arms out. “Dnes meht ot eht tseraen ecilop noitats.”
Every bound Hand member disappeared before their eyes. Frank put his phone away as it was no longer needed.
“Where’d they go?” Clint asked.
“The police,” Zatanna answered, returning to them. “Come here, Dames.” Damian rolled his eyes at the nickname but left Dick’s side anyway. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Esaeler.” A shimmering light emanated from Damian briefly before fading away. “You’re all set.”
“Thanks, Zatanna,” Damian said quietly.
She gave him a soft smile. “Anything for my batboys.” She ruffled his hair, and he smacked her hand away.
Natasha smirked as she watched the exchange. “You spend a lot of time cleaning up after the boys?” she asked.
Zatanna looked her over, her smile melting into one of understanding and mutual respect. “Just as much as I guarantee you do.”
“Now, now, Zee,” Jason cut in with a teasing tone. “Don’t go replacing Dinah.”
“You and Dick get all the redheads,” Zatanna said, fake pouting. “I need one.”
“Does everyone have a redhead?” Peter blurted. “Double-D, do you have a redhead?”
“He is the redhead,” Frank reminded. “I don’t call him Red just for the outfit.”
Peter blushed and looked away. “Oh, right.”
In Peter’s defense, he usually only saw Matt out and about with the cowl on, and it was easy to forget that he was a redheaded blind lawyer with red glasses and a red sweater that said “I’m not Daredevil” along with his red Daredevil suit. Hmm, maybe Matt had a thing for the color red just as much as Dick did, even if Matt could no longer actually see the color.
Clint hummed and nodded. “The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is a redhead. You learn something new every day.” Maybe Clint was drawn to redheads considering his close friendship with Tasha and his desire to befriend Daredevil.
“Now I kind of want a redhead,” Damian said quietly with a frown.
“Dami, you already have Colin,” Dick said.
Damian’s frown turned into a scowl. “No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do,” Jason said, agreeing with Dick. “Don’t argue that ‘not actually friends’ bullshit. You’ve been hanging out on rooftops ever since you took down that child fighting ring together. If Jon’s your friend, so is Colin.”
“But avoid dating him so B doesn’t tear his hair out,” Dick said.
“On second thought, please date Colin,” Jason added. “Or Jon. I don’t care as long as they’re a hero or vigilante.”
Dick shook his head with a pinched expression. “It’s like you want B to have a heart attack. All his kids keep bringing home heroes instead of nice civilians.”
“You say that as if you’re not the worst offender. Alfred told me about Bruce’s reaction to you dating Babs, and I remember his face when you brought home Kori. And Wally. Oh, and don’t get me started on his face when he saw Roy.” Then Jason started laughing. “And his face when I brought home Roy? Priceless. He’d have an aneurysm if the baby bat brought home Superboy Jr. Tim would have an aneurysm too if Dami brought home his boyfriend’s little brother.”
Dick quickly slapped Jason’s arm. “Don’t give him ideas.”
But it was too late.
Damian looked up at them with a thoughtful expression. “So, what you’re saying is, if I want to make Drake mad, I need to date Jon Kent?”
“If you date Jon just to make your brother mad, you are grounded,” Dick said sternly. Damian crossed his arms over his chest and grumbled to himself.
“Anyway, you’ll never get Bruce as mad as I did when I told him I started dating Constantine,” Zatanna told them with an easy grin.
“I think we’d win if one of us dated Constantine,” Dick said.
“It’s your turn not to get any ideas,” Jason growled.
“Love you, Jay.” Dick gave him a cheeky grin and winked, the lens of his mask showing the wink.
“As loving and entertaining as this all is though,” Zatanna began, “I promised Bruce I’d be quick about bringing you boys home.”
“Oh, shit, right,” Jason said. “Can’t miss Alfred’s tikka masala. He wouldn’t be too happy.”
Zatanna motioned between the two groups. “You say your goodbyes. I’ll get the portal open.”
As Zatanna walked away, to a more spacious part of the warehouse floor, Frank asked, “Is universe hopping just another Thursday night?”
Dick shrugged. “Might as well be. Tim and I were stuck here almost a week last time, though that was because our home magic users were busy, and Stark wanted to try and solve the problem with science.” Dick then looked at Peter. “How’s that coming along anyway? He still trying to cross universes with tech?”
“I think it’s doing pretty good,” Peter answered with his own shrug. “We haven’t caused any singularities at least.”
“No universe destroying please,” Jason said.
“Boys!” Zatanna called from twenty feet away, and they all looked to see a stable, blue and white portal open next to her.
Clint frowned. “That took no time at all.” In any other instance, he’d be impressed. “It was great seeing you guys again.” He moved forward, and Dick met him readily with a big hug.
“Yeah, you too, man,” Dick said, clapping Clint on the back. And when he pulled back, he addressed everyone. “Thanks for watching over him.”
“It was our honor,” Natasha said. “He’s a good kid.”
Natasha gave Damian a genuine smile, and he felt a warmth in his chest. He didn’t hear things like that very often from people other than Dick. It was. . . nice.
“Well, looks like this is it then,” Dick said, his tone dipping.
Before Dick could say anything else, Damian left his side and rushed to Frank, wrapping his arms around Frank’s large torso. Everyone froze as their eyes widened. No one looked more surprised than Frank who had his arms in the air, but slowly, he lowered his arms and returned the hug.
“Holy shit,” Jason muttered under his breath. He could count the number of people Damian willingly hugged on one hand. That was literally only four people: Dick, Bruce, Alfred, and Jason. And now it included someone Damian had only known for a day.
But Dick looked on in pride. He remembered when he first met Damian. That kid was vastly different than the growing young man Damian had become, changing before his eyes.
Frank’s face softened. “It was nice meeting you, kid,” he said earnestly. “Take good care of your family, alright?”
“I will,” Damian said, and he pulled away, looking up at Frank. “Give Max plenty of treats and walks.”
Frank huffed with a grin. “Like Max isn’t already spoiled enough as it is.”
“He deserves it.”
“That he does.”
Damian then turned to Matt, more sheepish than he had been with Frank. “I’m sorry again.”
Matt waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it. Really. Just get home safe, Damian.”
“Make sure he spoils Max.”
Matt couldn’t stop the abrupt laugh that escaped him, unintentionally startling Clint and Nat who never thought they’d hear the devil laugh. “Max will do just fine.”
The three Gothamites waved and turned, walking over to the portal that Zatanna had opened.
“Who the hell’s Max?” Jason asked.
“Frank’s dog,” Damian answered. “He’s a pit bull. Can I get a pit bull?”
“I already have a pit bull,” Dick said as they stopped in front of the portal.
“But I don’t have a pit bull.”
Jason sighed. “The manor is already a zoo. You don’t think a cat, Great Dane, cow, turkey, and dragon-bat are enough?”
Damian scoffed. “No.”
Clint watched with utter fascination and asked the others, “Does anyone else think that list got progressively stranger?” He received various agreeable nods.
But Dick, Jason, and Damian hadn’t heard the question, still talking amongst themselves. “Why are you asking me for a pit bull?” Dick asked.
“Because if I ask Father, he will say no,” Damian said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “If you provide me with one, he can’t refuse.”
“Jesus, just come over and walk Haley after school like a normal child,” Jason said.
“That is not the same, and normal is redundant in this family.”
“Get in the damn portal,” Dick ordered, pointing at it. Damian groaned and rolled his eyes before walking through. Dick looked at Jason. “This is punishment for all the chandeliers I broke when I was his age, huh?”
Jason laughed. “Oh, yeah. Gremlin leash children, the both of you. You asked for that. Could’ve just let Alfred raise him, but noooo, Dick Grayson’s bleeding heart won over. C’mon, Dickiebird.”
Jason and Dick walked into the portal together, followed closely behind by Zatanna who closed it after she went through, leaving the others alone in the empty warehouse.
Frank smirked leaning over to Matt. “Bleeding heart, huh?”
“Shut up, Frank.”