Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Damian, we need to go!”

“Give me one second, fuck-”

“Tim, where on earth did you put my computer?”

“It’s in your bag.”

“It’s not in my bag. Tim, where did you put it?”

“Jason. It’s in there.”

“But it’s not? Like, I have no idea where you put it- oh. Found it!”

“Damian!”

“Calm down Dick, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“I’m leaving without you!”

Damian vaulted over the second floor railing and landed on his feet in the foyer, where the rest of his brothers were waiting. He straightened out his uniform blazer and slung his backpack over one shoulder.

“We can go now.”

After saying their quick goodbyes to Alfred, they were finally in the car and on their way to school.

“What took so long, Damian? Tim, put your seatbelt on,” Dick asked as he checked his blind spot before switching lanes and getting on the freeway.

“One of the cats somehow got stuck on top of the roof so I had to climb out and get her.” Damian sighed. “Does anyone have a lint roller?”

Jason wordlessly handed over a mini lint roller from the glove box. Damian uttered a quiet “thanks” and began to rid his blazer of cat hair. Meanwhile, Tim took a shot of Five Hour Energy and proceeded to wash it down with a RedBull.

“I saw that, Tim.”

“Saw what?”

“You’re going to die from a heart attack someday.”

“Shut up Jason, I have three unit tests I’m taking today.”

“You’re already missing a spleen, do you want your liver to disappear as well?”

“Your liver deals with alcohol, not caffeine, dumbass.”

“Okay, whatever. You do know that caffeine stunts your growth, right?”

Tim said nothing. Damian watched as he took out his phone and canceled the coffee order he had placed earlier. Soon, Dick pulled up to Gotham Academy with five minutes before the warning bell rang. His driving practices needed to be investigated and his license revoked because they should have been at least ten minutes late to first period.

“Bye Timmers! Have fun, Dami!” Dick called as he sped away.

“Wow, favourtism much?” Tim muttered as they made their way to the entrance.

“You’re Jason’s favourite.”

“Well, he never tells me to have fun at school,” Tim said as he absentmindedly flipped through the pages of a lengthy WE business contract he had been working on, before putting it into his binder.

“Cry about it.”

Tim rolled his eyes as they parted ways, heading to their classes. Damian finally reached his English class and sat down in his seat, taking out his phone after setting up his materials.

Three new messages from: dick

dick: you and tim are gonna leave last period like 30 minutes early cause of the charity thing

dick: also B is gonna pick you guys up

dick: also alfred put tea in a thermos for you he told me it’s in your bag if you want it

Damian typed out a quick response and slid his phone into his back pocket just as his teacher arrived. Ms. Reynolds was one of the few English teachers he liked at school. She was clear and efficient in her teaching, which Damian appreciated. He made an effort to not look disinterested in her class.

“Good morning! I have a project to introduce today, so if everyone could listen up this way I don’t have to repeat myself, that would be lovely.”

Ms. Reynolds passed out stacks of the assignment. Damian grabbed a sheet and passed the pile to the boy sitting behind him.

“Last week, we discussed diversity in perspectives and how these perspectives can be amplified through writing. Now, this assignment is a little open-ended, I will admit, but I’m sure that everyone will be able to write something accordingly. You will have today as an in-class work period. The rest is to be done over the weekend and handed in at the start of class on Monday. If you have any questions, feel free to come and ask me. That is all.”

Damian read the prompt. Write about diverse perspectives in your life and the impact they have on you as an individual. You can write this in any format you wish- you do not have to write this as an essay. No less than three paragraphs. This was fairly easy for him, he supposed. He could write about his families, and how the difference between his father’s side and his mother’s side had impacted him. Damian grabbed the tea Alfred had put into his bag that morning and took a sip, the comforting flavour of black tea, honey, and home sliding over his tongue. Alfred had always had excellent taste when it came to tea. And practically everything else as well, of course.

The blank document on his computer waited, the little line blinking

The perspectives between my two families are quite different.

A good start, but not great. Damian doubted he could write at least three substantial paragraphs about this topic. Oh well. He would work on it over the weekend. His phone buzzed quietly in his pocket.

One new message from: tim

tim: You want to skip?

you: No.

tim: Damn.

Damian refocused on the assignment before him. Without much thought put into it, he wrote three paragraphs, though it was a struggle to make them a decent length without throwing in the fact that his grandfather and mother had been training him to become an assassin. What he wrote wouldn’t get him higher than a B+, but he had all weekend to work on it. He’d probably end up asking Jason for help, since he had the best English grades out of all of them. The bell rang and Damian gathered his things, saying a polite goodbye to Ms. Reynolds as he walked out.

The rest of the school day passed without much incident, until last period. After Damian sat in his place, one of the girls that sat to his left poked his arm with a pencil.

“Yes?” Damian was confused. He was also a little annoyed because the pencil had left a gray streak on his shirt sleeve. The girl, he was pretty sure her name was Lucille, had never really talked to Damian before.

“Uh. this might be a weird question, but we were wondering if your brother is single?”

The other girls surrounding Lucille nodded, some of them laughing.

“Which one?”

“Um, Timothy?” Lucille looked at the girl closest to her, who nodded once again. “Yeah, Timothy. He’s two years above us?”

“I’m aware which grade my brother is in.”

“Well, do you think you could introduce him to my friend Ella?” Ella, the girl closest to Lucille, waved shyly. Damian resisted the urge to make a face, because there was no way they were asking him to set Ella up on a date with Tim right now.

“Sure.” At this, all the girls squealed and began talking to Ella in hurried and very loud whispers.

you: There’s a girl in my class named Ella who wants to date you.

tim: Ella Bueller? Blond hair, blue eyes?

you: Yes. Do you know her?

tim: Her older sister wants to date me too. Not interested.

tim: In either of them.

Damian turned back to the gaggle of girls to his left.

“He’s not interested. Said you’re too young.”

While that wasn’t exactly what Tim had said, Damian had seen the way Ella’s face had fallen after his first sentence. He had gotten better at interacting with his classmates- there were several embarrassing stories about him in elementary school- and he also didn’t want Ella to hate Tim for no reason. Damian was aware that he had sounded rather callous, but he felt so far out of his depth that he didn’t know how to deal with this situation gently.

“Oh,” Ella sounded crestfallen.

“Sorry.”

“Um, it’s okay.”

Damian prayed for his father to get to the Academy sooner.

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

“Do I have to go?” Jason could be heard whining from his room as he buttoned up his dress shirt.

“Yes, Jason. I know galas aren’t your favourite but you do have to be there for at least an hour before you graciously excuse yourself. Then you can come back home and gorge yourself on Alfred’s cookies as compensation,” Bruce said as he smoothed Dick’s hair and fixed Tim’s cufflinks.

“Ughhhhhhhhhhhhh,” Jason’s voice trailed away as he went to the bathroom to deal with his hair. Damian rolled his eyes.

“What a drama queen,” Dick said, loud enough for Jason to hear.

“Shut up, Dickhead,” Jason yelled from the bathroom.

“Make me!”

Bruce sighed. “No fighting before the gala, boys, please.”

“Yes, Dad,” the two chorused, sounding genuinely disappointed. Bruce chuckled fondly, then gestured for Damian.

“Father, I can do my own tie this time.”

Bruce playfully shook his head. “Tradition. I fix Dick’s hair, promise Jason cookies, help Tim with his cuffs, and do your tie. Now come here.”

Damian let out a quiet huff of faux annoyance but gave no further protest as his father finished off his tie knot.

“Ready, Jason?” Bruce called out in the general direction of Jason’s bathroom. Jason opened the door, cleaned up and looking more put together than he usually did.

“Yes. Let’s just get this over with, please.”

“Will Cass and Steph meet us there?” Tim asked as he slipped on his dress shoes. “Also, it’s not fair that Duke somehow manages to get himself off-world nearly every time there’s an event.”

“No, Cass and Steph will be driving there with us. Ladies?”

Steph burst out of her room, hurriedly fixing the strap on one of her heels, while Cass helped carry both their purses.

“Here!” Steph exclaimed triumphantly, having successfully fixed the troublesome buckle on her shoe. Cass smiled and high-fived her.

“You look gorgeous, my darlings.”

“Why, thank you very much Mr. Wayne! We are flattered,” Steph beamed. Though she hated having to interact with some of the most insufferable people in Gotham as much as the rest of them, she did love getting dressed up for the occasion. Cass politely refused when Bruce offered his hand to help her and Steph down the stairs, and instead opted to slide down the railing of the staircase. She landed smoothly on her feet and ruffled Damian’s hair.

“Damn it, Cass, I spent forever on his curls!” Dick cried out, pretending to be hurt. Cass shrugged.

“He looked weird with his perfect hair.”

“I think that’s just how he looks, Cass.”

Damian scowled at Tim. Bruce finished helping Steph down the stairs and opened the door for them.

“Straight to the car. See you in a bit, Alfred.”

Alfred, who had been waiting patiently by the door, nodded.

“I shall have the cookies ready. See you soon, Master Bruce.”

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

Damian settled himself comfortably into the passenger seat. He had successfully fought off Tim, Jason, and Dick (in that order) to get the front seat, despite his father asking for no fighting before the charity gala. 

“Fuck, owie. You know I had Osgood-Schlatter in my knee. You knew that and you still kicked me.”

Damian bit back a smirk and shrugged.

“I wanted the front seat. Should’ve fought harder, Dick.”

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

The gala had been going fairly well. Damian had managed to escape to an upper balcony of the venue they had rented out and was surveying the crowd underneath. Predictably, there was a large crowd milling around Bruce (mostly business partners and people wanting to catch a glimpse of the ever-famous Bruce Wayne), as well as a crowd around Dick (mostly girls trying to hit on him). Cass stood silently beside him, resting her elbows on the ornate gilded railing of the balcony.

“How was school?”

“It was okay. A girl in my class wanted me to set her up with Tim. It was uncomfortable.”

Cass laughed.

“How’s ballet?”

“It’s going fairly well. I’ll be auditioning for the Nutcracker soon.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Hmm,” Cass paused to think. “Yes. I’m more excited than nervous though.”

“You’ll do amazing. Bruce is going to buy you the biggest bouquet for your performance.”

“That’d be nice. Dick is gesturing for you to go down. I’m going to go find Steph.”

“Okay, see you.”

Damian began to make his way downstairs again. He said hello to the people he met as he passed by them, but didn’t stay long enough for them to trap him in conversation. One time, at his very first public event, a group of adults had ensnared him, cooing at everything he said.

“Well, how old do you think your daddy is?”

The woman asked, a frankly belittling tone in her voice.

“32,” Damian responded, his voice serious and deadpan. The party that had gathered around fell quiet.

“Um, I mean, Daddy’s old! I think he’s 10!” Damian put on his best dumb-little-kid voice. The party around him laughed and called him adorable. Damian wanted to punch someone.

“Dami!” His older brother called out, walking towards him without the horde of girls, thankfully.

“Are you drunk?”

“No. A little bit.”

“You’re contradicting yourself.”

Dick rolled his eyes. It seemed his older brothers had an eye-rolling problem. He reached out and fixed Damian’s tie clip.

“I just wanted to know if you’re still doing okay. Jason looks like a cat that’s trying to climb up the walls and I know Tim is about to have a caffeine crash any second now.”

Damian took a deep breath. He had started feeling somewhat tired and would like to go home soon, but it would be unfair to their father if all his children left him to fend for himself.

“I’m fine. How much longer?”

Dick hummed in thought. “At least two more hours.”

Damian groaned quietly. “Oh, fu-”

Dick gave him a look.

“Fudge. Happy?”

“Yes. Also, Jason just texted me that he’s leaving in five minutes. You can go home with him, if you want.”

“Bye.”

“I’ll go find the girls. Try not to kill Jason on the way back?”

“No promises.”

Chapter Text

tim’s missing spleen mentions: 12

clown: can someone PLEASE change my name

timmers: You were in a circus.

clown: as a trapeze artist

clown: not as a clown

damian: You act dumb enough to be one at this point. I think it’s your natural calling.

clown: … gagged

damian: Don’t choke.

clown: WOWWWW

timmers: Can we change the name of this group chat though? I don’t need Bruce finding out I don’t have a spleen because he sees a notification from this on someone’s phone.

jay-z: no.

jay-z changed the group chat name to: tim’s missing spleen mentions: 13

timmers: fuck you

Dick glanced up from his phone with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Hey, Bruce, I don’t know if Tim ever told you this but-”

“No!” Tim shouted as he literally jumped across the breakfast table and wrestled Dick to the ground. Alfred deftly caught an empty bowl that had gone flying before it could smash to the ground and calmly returned it to the table.

“Ow! Tim, you’re gonna rip out my hair!”

“You literally started it, shut up.”

Damian quietly sipped tea from the cup Alfred had handed him earlier.

“Dick, you kind of suck at fighting.”

“That’s cause you’ve had, like, four energy drinks already. I haven’t even had one cup of coffee yet.”

“That is possibly the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

“My Osgood-Schlatter! Ow! Damian literally kicked me there yesterday!”

Bruce sighed. Damian felt bad for his father. It was only Saturday morning and there was still the whole weekend to get through.

“I’m going back to sleep. Excuse me, everyone,” Bruce took one more bite of his food and left to go back to his room. Damian didn’t blame him.

“Jason! Help- Jason? Are you recording this?”

Jason shrugged and took another cookie. “You’re getting your ass absolutely beat by Tim right now. Of course I’m recording.”

Damian finished his tea and looked to Alfred. “May I have some more tea, Alfred?”

“Of course, Master Damian.”

Dick yelped from the ground. “Okay, okay, Tim! You won, can I please have my breakfast now?”

Time stood up and huffed as he brushed off his clothes. He walked around the table and sat down again. “I don’t know, can you?”

Muttering something under his breath along the lines of literally fuck off no one says “may I” anymore, Dick got up from the floor. Alfred handed the refilled cup to Damian.

“Jason, send that video to me immediately. I’m playing it everytime Dick starts having an ego again.”

Dick, who had recovered by now, was eating the rest of his food with an honest-to-god pout on his face.

“I hate you all.”

Damian fixed him with a stare. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“You look so much like Bruce right now, it’s kinda freaky.”

“It’s almost like half of my DNA comes from him.”

Alfred interjected, his voice calm as always. “Breakfast is getting cold, boys. Eat, then I expect to see you doing your homework in the kitchen in half an hour.”

At the mention of homework, all four boys let out some form of an annoyed groan. Damian thought about his English assignment again. Perhaps he didn’t need to dig up painful memories about his mother for this project. Each member of his real family was different and unique enough that he could probably write an entire book about them if he chose to do so. Not that he ever would, that task would be left to Jason. Ms. Reynolds would probably appreciate the authenticity of it as well and Damian knew that she had also grown up in a large family. Perhaps the relatable experience could earn him some extra points.

“I think you guys just helped me get an A on my writing assignment. Thanks,” Damian said, half-aware of the words coming out of his mouth as he put his plate and cup in the sink and began to make his way upstairs to grab his school bag. He didn’t notice the silence that fell over the table as he left.

“Did Damian just thank us for something?” Tim had an expression of disbelief on his face. Jason seemed equally shocked, while Dick looked fond.

“Aww. Our little baby brother just said he loved us guys.”

“He literally didn’t.”

“Telling us thanks was close enough.”

Alfred rapped his knuckles against the wood of the table, snapping the three remaining boys back to focus.

“Homework, boys.”

Jason grimaced.

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

Damian typed away on his computer, pausing now and then to reread what he had just written.

My brothers are all wildly different from each other as well. Dick, my eldest brother, lives with an optimistic and carefree, sometimes careless, outlook on life. Whether or not that is due to the fact that he used to be part of a circus, I have yet to determine.

Perhaps that was too snarky. However, most of his classmates seemed to be writing very dry and boring essays, and Damian had long since figured out that his writing was always marked better when he wrote naturally. He would keep that circus comment in.

Dick had finished double checking the WE contract Tim had written a while ago and was now working his way through on a report of last night’s activity from the Justice League.

Despite many people's rather shallow impression of him as a somewhat foolish, though charming young man who doesn’t think twice about anything, my brother can be incredibly focused when it comes to the things that are important to him. He is thoughtful and empathetic, which makes him an incredible listener that always seeks to understand how someone is feeling. When I was younger, I was often too serious and never took the time to see things from the other person’s side. Dick has taught me how to have fun and how to make sure that others are also enjoying the time that they spend around me.

That was enough progress for today. He had written about Bruce and Alfred, as well as Dick. Damian double checked that his work was saved, a habit they had all picked up from Bruce, before shutting down his computer.

“All done, Dami?” Dick asked, looking up from the report folder he had been reading. Damian nodded.

“For today.”

“Good timing. I have to pick up Cass from ballet and then we’re taking her and Steph out for a snack.”

Tim looked up from his pre-calculus work with a suspicious stare directed at Dick. “Who’s we?”

“Cass, Steph, plus the three of us.”

“No thanks.”

“Tim.”

“I said no.”

“Timmy. Timmers. Timmmmmm. Timothy. Timothee Chalamet.”

“Please never mention Timothee Chalamet in relation to me again.”

“Only if you come for a snack with us.”

Silence ensued as his two brothers engaged in an intense stare-off. After about two minutes, Tim finally cracked.

“Fine.”

“Yay!” Dick exclaimed. He gathered his things and put them into his bag before leaving the kitchen. “Meet at the front door in 5, got it?”

Tim shoved his work into his binder and got up from his seat. “Jason was smart for leaving earlier.”

Damian couldn’t agree more.

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

“Hello, my lovely. How was ballet?” Dick asked once Cass had settled comfortably in the backseat with Damian. She put her seatbelt on without Dick having to ask her.

“Good. I’ll find out if I got a callback tonight.”

“You’ll get a callback for sure. If not, I’m suing them.”

“Thanks, Dick.”

The sound of a phone buzzing caught everyone’s attention. Tim pulled out his phone from his back pocket and answered the call.

“Hi Steph.” Tim said once the call connected.

“Where are you guys? I’m hungry.”

“Not even a “Hi Tim”? Wow. I’m hurt.”

“I’m about to be hangry if you guys don’t pull up in the next five minutes.”

“We’ll be there in two.” Tim hung up and leaned forward from where he sat to Damian’s right. “Drive faster Dick. I don’t want Steph to beat my ass just because she’s hangry.”

“I’m literally doing 20 above the speed limit right now.”

“Do 30.”

As promised, they arrived outside of Steph’s house within two minutes. Damian had secretly been gripping the side of his seat in fear during the entire two minutes. He watched as Stephanie’s mom gave her a hug at the door and said goodbye, waving to Dick as Steph made her way to the car. He wasn’t jealous, per se, but he was curious as to how it felt to have a mom like Mrs. Brown. Of course, his circumstances while living with his mother were very different from Steph, but his brothers, father, two sisters, and even Alfred, had been drilling it into his head that the situation they were in didn’t count as an excuse for her behaviour.

“Are you okay?”

Damian snapped back to reality and turned to Cass, who was looking at him with a concerned face.

“Just thinking.”

“Okay. We’re almost at McDonalds.”

Damian hummed in response.

@TheGothamGossiponX: CLICK HERE to see the Wayne children fighting in public!

@timdrakestanno1 (replying): help i did not expect to see damian beating up tim in a mcdonalds on twitter today this is the best thing ever

@DamianWayneOfficial (replying to @timdrakestanno1): He was trying to force feed me fries.

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

Back in his room, having successfully avoided any further discussion of his conduct in the McDonalds, Damian sat at his desk with his sketchbook in front of him. There was a local art gallery that had reached out to him to see if he wanted to have any of his work featured. Damian had been hesitant at first. He had never shown his art to anyone outside of his family and the occasional fine arts display at school. Ultimately, he had accepted the offer.

Now, he just had to come up with a few pieces that he deemed respectable enough to be given to the gallery. One of the pieces was already finished and had been left to dry in his art studio. It was a large oil painting of a robin taking flight. A bit on the nose, but it had been the first painting that Damian was somewhat happy with. He wanted to make at least two more pieces, but his mind was coming up blank.

Titus padded his way in from the hallway and installed himself on top of Damian’s bed.

“Hi Titus,” Damian reached over and scratched behind one of Titus’ ears. His dog leaned into his touch before flopping his head down and closing his eyes for a nap. Damian thought for a moment and returned to the page before him. The rough outlines of a sketch began to fill the paper, the pencil streaks forming a side profile of Titus. Hmm. Damian could work with this. The next couple hours blurred past as Damian worked on a small canvas for his first rough composition. Though Bruce  and the rest of his family certainly didn’t care if Damian wasted a few canvases and some oil paints, Damian still wanted to have the final product turn out perfect the first time. It was an “issue” (according to Jason and Dick) that Damian was trying to work on, but old habits die hard.

“Damian! Alfred says it’s dinnertime,” Steph poked her head into his bedroom. “Hi Titus. Let’s go before Jason swings by and ends up eating half of the dinner table.”

Cass called from downstairs and Steph flashed a grin at Damian before sprinting away. After carefully putting his supplies away, Damian stood up and dusted off his pants and made his way to the main floor. He grabbed his plate from the kitchen, thanked Alfred, and walked over to the dining table.

“How’s the art going, Damian? I saw the one in your studio earlier and it looks amazing,” his father asked. Damian took a sip of water from his glass before responding.

“It’s going fairly well. I expect to have the pieces done before the end of the month.”

“Are you working on a project for school or something?” Jason asked. “Can you pass me the potato casserole, Cass?”

“No, the art is for a display at the Lady Gotham Gallery. And it’s called dauphinoise,” Damian directed his last statement at Jason, then took a bite of his own potatoes, savoring the taste of the rich cream and seasonings. Jason shook his head, biting back a smirk.

“French accent and everything is wild.”

“The disrespect to Alfred’s cooking by calling it a potato casserole is wild.”

“Can we go back to the art for a sec?” Dick chimed in. “That’s so cool! When is the display happening?”

“A month and a half from now.”

“We’ll be going there to see it, right B?” Dick looked at their father for confirmation.

“Of course. No question about it.”

Suddenly, Cass let out a noise that was as close to a shriek that she had ever gotten. Steph immediately leaned over in her chair, reading something on Cass’ phone. She promptly let out an actual shriek and hugged Cass tightly.

“Ladies?” Bruce asked, ignoring the no-phones-at-the-table rule for now. Cass smiled, somewhat sheepishly, probably just having remembered the phone rule as well.

“I got a callback for auditions. Sorry about the phone, I just couldn’t help but check.”

“No, no, Cass, don’t feel bad at all. That’s wonderful, sweetheart,” Bruce smiled warmly from where he sat, a few chairs away from where the girls were, Steph still hugging Cass like a very excited koala. The rest of dinner passed like normal, with chatter that climbed into a cacophony of joy when Alfred brought out his signature pumpkin pie as a dessert.

“The first slice goes to our lovely Miss Cassandra. Congratulations on the successful first round of auditions. We are very proud,” Alfred served the slice with a mountain of whipped cream, just the way that Cass liked it. “Enjoy, everybody.”

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

Later, while they should have been on patrol (but Bruce had finally pulled out his I-am-your-father-and-all-of-you-need-a-break-so-listen-to-me-please voice that was just a bit closer to Batman than Bruce normally was), Damian watched from the very comfortable couch as Dick and Cass seemed to be engaged in a fierce handstand competition. Jason had disappeared into the library with Tim and the faint sounds of Alfred answering their questions about his time as an actor drifted in and out through the open door. Without warning, Steph dropped herself onto the couch cushion next to him, with a glint in her eye that could only mean trouble.

“It’s shenanigan time. I’m finally taking revenge on Tim for coating my frozen Sprite gummies in salt instead of sour powder.”

“What’s the plan?”

“We’re replacing all of his coffee with Walmart decaf.”

“Amazing.”

“I know. I already have the decaf with me, all we have to do is pour out his fancy custom blend and pour the Walmart one in.”

There wasn’t a second to spare. Damian leapt off of the couch and said something vague about wanting a snack before sneaking away to the kitchen, Steph right behind him.

“He’s gonna go insane,” Steph giggled quietly after emptying the decaf blend into the jar that held Tim’s normal coffee. Damian sealed up the ziploc bag that now contained the original grounds and hid it in the pocket of Steph’s hoodie.

“You’re going to record his reaction tomorrow morning.”

“Obviously? I’m gonna laugh so hard at his face. Serves him right though, I was really looking forward to those gummies.”

One quick high five later and the two of them vanished from the kitchen, leaving no evidence of their actions behind.