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TIM DRAKE TAPS HIS fingers against the steering wheel. Traffic wasn’t too bad, especially for a Friday afternoon. The drive to Wayne Manor from his apartment is annoyingly long, it’s why he prefers to not drive. Typically, he’d swing but due to the fractured wrist he’s sporting he thought better of it.
When he puts the code into the gate for Wayne Manor and pulls in, he does a full-mind pause. The only thing that keeps the car going up the long driveway is his muscle reflexes. Tim hadn’t been to Wayne Manor in a while. New York was nice, it felt good to get away from the craziness that was Gotham. Running W.E. from a different city had been weird at first, but eventually the new Wayne Enterprises building that he was overseeing was completed and fully staffed.
New York was promising, he had a lot of opportunities there, co-workers he liked, friends. New York was incredible.
Still, the polluted Gotham air tasted good in his lungs. Being away for three years did that to someone. Every Gotham citizen knows Gotham is bad for them, some leave Gotham but they all come back. There’s just something about Gotham. Tim knew that, it’s the only reason he came back after three years.
Three years with three planned visits and four unexpected ones and Gotham was just as Tim left it. Polluted and dangerous. It was good to be home. Tims hands are tapping—banging—on the front door before he realizes it.
The person who opens the door isn’t who Tim expected. He expected Alfred Pennyworth, the gray-haired old man with sarcasm and charm that could get anyone through anything. Which was stupid of him, given that Alfred was long dead and, though not impossible, it was dumb to think he’d crawl out his grave just to open the door for Tim. (Not that he couldn’t keep imagining that.)
The person who opens the door is tall and lean. Taller than Tim by…five inches? Possibly more. He’s ranging on 5’11, could already be 6’0. He has tiny scars across his face and hands, some scars pretty noticeable against his tanned skin. His green eyes are piercing and vibrant. Part of Tim wants to scream, ‘Bruce took in another!?’ but Tim’s hippocampus recognizes him rather quickly. “Damian?”
“Drake.” The boy (man?) says looking down at Tim. “It is good to see you, I suppose.” Damians hands twitch at his side as if wanting to do something. If Tim knows Damian at all, it’s probably strangle him. Ultimately, he opts out of whatever violent decision he was considering and instead tugs on his hoodie as he opens the door more to allow Tim in.
Tim walks in, looking around the manor for changes. Because Damian becoming a giant with manners can’t be the only one. “Since when did you ditch turtlenecks?”
Damian shoots Tim an unimpressed look. “Since last year when I emptied them out of my closet.”
Tim shrugs nonchalantly. “How was I supposed to know?” Damian moves to lead the way. As if Tim doesn’t know his way around the manor. “I was gone three years, you know.”
“Yes, I know. It was noticeably quieter.” Tim rolls his eyes at Damian’s annoying comment. “Father is in his study.”
“What about Duke?”
“I’m not sure, I believe he is in an apartment in the Narrows. I am not aware if he returned from his Outsiders mission yet.”
“Right.” Tim nods, thin lipped. He forgot Duke moved out. “How’s Gotham?”
“Polluted.” Damian shrugged as if he didn’t love this city more than Tim. “New York?”
“Slightly less polluted.” Tim responded with a quirked up lip. “And the night gig?”
Damian clicks his tongue. “The same as usual.” Tim wanted more detail but he settled for that. When Tim moved to New York it was to focus on school. He got accepted into Columbia University and was currently getting a dual major in computer science and psychology with a focus on criminal and forensic psychology. With college and working on the new Wayne Enterprises building, it was safe to say he didn’t have time for vigilante work.
That was hard to cope with at first. Vigilantism was like a drug. Tim felt terrible to compare it to something that killed people but it was. Being a vigilante is heroic and brave—but also dangerous and addictive. You go out for one night and you think ‘just one night, just to save Batman’ and then you’re Robin for half a decade.
Or maybe that’s just a him problem.
Anyway, withdrawal from vigilantism was hard and upsetting. He’d crave the feeling of the wind against his skin but he had forced Stephanie to take his suit from him. So, Tim had only been out as Red Robin on very very rare occasions—all of which were followed by emergency therapy sessions with a trusted therapist.
“I heard about you and Dowd.” It takes Tim a moment to register that. He forgot about Bernard. Tim broke up with him two years ago, he guesses him and Damian never talked about it before. Odd. “I am glad. His conspiracies were idiotic and concerning.”
Tim snorts loudly. “Right. You didn’t like Bernard.” Tim nods and Damian rolls his eyes. “He was nice, I don’t get why you didn’t like him.”
“You broke up with him, I think you know why.” It was Tim’s turn to roll his eyes. He broke up with Bernard because he just didn’t have time for a relationship. Especially not one where their relationship was built on Tim saving him. Tim’s feelings for Bernard began the moment he went missing, when Bernard became a case that needed to be solved. When Tim solved it, he was elated and so was Bernard, it didn’t help that Bernard was attractive and feeling it too.
He’s not saying his feelings for Bernard were from some fantasy in his head, or wrong, or made up. Tim is simply saying that what he felt for Bernard was real at some point, but the love he thought he had didn’t last, it shifted into what they had now. A friendship. A very distant friendship. Tim sighs, only know realizing how awkwardly quiet the room is.
In the silence, Damian seated himself on a couch to scroll on his phone, the only sign that he was feeling—nervous? anxious?—anything out of the ordinary was his quiet tapping against the arm of the couch.
Tim feels like he’s sixteen at a meeting in Wayne Enterprises. The awkward silence as everyone was waiting for a member to arrive and they had run out of their classic ‘How’s school?’ questions. Which, speaking of, “How’s school been going?”
“Adequate. Father put me in a boarding school, I am not sure if you are aware of that fact.”
“Uh, I think Dick mentioned it, maybe.” He definitely didn’t. Tim would remember that.
Damian nodded. “It is still in Jersey, just outside of Gotham. I am able to patrol on the weekends, though not every weekend, as I do have a life.”
“Right. So you have…friends there?” Tim winced at how that sounds. He means no offense by it. Damian’s never been the friendly type. In fact, for years he refused to address his classmates as ‘peers’ and referred to them as neanderthals or buffoons only.
To his credit, Damian wasn’t truly offended. The boy merely shrugged. “Some I would consider acquaintances but I suppose I do have a friend or two.”
“Cool,” Tim smiled slightly. “You still friends with Jon?”
Damian went thin lipped. “We are not on negative terms but we do not talk regularly.” Damian admitted. “We talk while we work and very rarely while we don’t. Things are practically the same as they were between him and I when you left. It is still weird to see him so old.”
Right, when Jon was 11 going on 18. “What of you and the alien?” Damian follows up, probably to avoid silence and divert attention from himself. Smart.
“Stop calling him that.” Tim groans. “We don’t talk much either.” They really hadn’t. Not since Tim kissed him and then said that he wasn’t ready for anything the very next moment. That had been about a year ago, it was not his finest of days, of that he is sure. “So, you gonna join the Titans or anything?” Damian raises a brow at that. “Not your speed? Young Justice has an opening.”
“No need, Drake. I am already in a team. I thought you had heard.” Tim must look shocked because Damian snorts. “We’re rather new. West calls us the Outcasts but I believe that is a stupid name.”
“West. Ace is on your team? I always thought you two hated each other.” Or that Ace hated Damian at the very least, Damian probably thought Ace wasn’t important enough to hate. Tim distinctly remember Ace swearing to never work on a team with Damian again.
“No. Iris West the second. Her twin brother Jai as well, but Iris was the West I was speaking of.” Oh. Irey West, Wally and Linda’s kid. Huh. He thought she was like five? Was that speed force induced aging, or just regular aging and Tim had yet to catch up? “The new Green Lanter, Tai Pham is on the team. Lian Harper as well. A few others.”
Tim nodded along. He’d have to check out these guys, he was way behind on his legacy heroes. “Outcasts, huh? Names not terrible. Fits with the whole Outsiders and Outlaws thing that Duke, Cass, and Jay got going.”
“I believe that was West’s intentions. She is obsessed with Cain. It is annoying.”
“Yeah, you don’t know annoying until one of your friends is drooling over your brother that you barely know.” Tim’s civilian friends were all over Dick when he was younger, it was gross. But it was no doubt worse when they were all over young (and very dead) Jason.
Damian lets his lips tug into a smile and for some reason Tim finds that rewarding. “Will you be staying for dinner?”
“Uh, sure.” Suddenly a thought hits Tim like a bag of bricks. Alfred died years ago, who on Earth cooked for Bruce and Damian? Bruce used to burn water, Tim can’t imagine he got any better. “I’m not cooking, right?”
Damian scoffed. “Obviously. You are not to be near the kitchen.”
Tim groaned in feigned annoyance. “That’s still a thing? Really?” In reality he was grateful Damian didn’t expect him to cook.
“Would you like to disrespect a dead man’s wishes? Pennyworth did not die for you to be in the kitchen.”
That startles a laugh out of Tim. On its way out of Tim’s throat, he chokes on it. “Okay, okay,” He pauses to cough out the rest of his suffocating laugh. “I’ll stay for dinner.”
“Do not act as if I was begging you, it was a simple question. I could not care less if you attended.” Damian rolls his eyes. Tim doesn’t believe that statement, but he acts like he does.
“Really feeling welcome, Demon-Spawn.” He mumbles. “Who else is coming?”
“Cain is in town. I suppose I can request she and Brown come along. Todd might, if he knows you’re around, perhaps Thomas too.”
“Jason hasn’t been around?” Tim asks, genuinely curious. On his last visit it seemed like Jason was over every other week.
“Him and father had another argument a few months ago. Father is stubborn, as is Todd.” Damian informs Tim like it’s common knowledge. Maybe it is. “Your old room has been prepared for you.”
Okay, cooking for dinner and preparing a room, that must mean Bruce hired somebody. A maid? A chef? A new butler? Probably a morning hire only, they most likely left before the costumes came out. Which was good, Bruce didn’t need to drag anyone else into this life. “No need, I’ve got a hotel.”
Damian clicks his tongue in annoyance, he follows that act with a shrug as if it’s only a minor inconvenience. “Understood.”
The silence is awkward. Tim clears his throat and gives Damian a weird and unnatural half-smile. “Tell Bruce I stopped by. I should get going to W.E. I have some things I have to pick up there.”
“Ah. Yes, Fox informed me that you were meant to handle a meeting sometime next week with Ramsey,” Jordan Ramsey, an annoying old-timey businessman. “I assume that’s what it’s for?”
“Yes. You speak to Lucious about WE?”
“Technically yes, but that specific information was given to me by his daughter.”
“Tam?”
“Tiffany.” Damian corrects. “His youngest. She has a tendency to eavesdrop. You have not spoken to him in a while, I take?”
“I have. It’s just strictly business.” With a few mentions of Tam. “Anyway, I’ll just..see myself out. Uh, see you later.”
Damian nods and watches Tim leave. Okay, weird. Tim shakes his head to clear it and hops back into his car. He really doesn’t have time to think about the new and weird Damian Wayne, he has work to do.
WHEN DINNER-TIME pulls around, Tim is a fashionable fifteen minutes late. He enters the manor to quiet laughter and immediately recognizes it. Some things just never leave your mind and Stephanie Browns laugh is one of them. “Steph,” Tim smiles brightly at the blonde girl.
Stephanie shoots up from her seat and pulls Tim in for a hug. Things had never had the chance to really be awkward between them. When Tim had broken up with her then got with Bernard less than a week later, Stephanie welcomed him with open arms. And when Stephanie had began dating Cassandra Tim had a basket of jokes to make on the matter.
“God, you don’t text, you don’t call.” She complains, hitting his shoulder roughly. “I thought you were dead.”
“Lies.” Cassandra comments, pulling Tim in for a hug of her own. “She called your school.”
Tim smiles into Cass’s shoulder. “Invasion of privacy, Steph. I called you while I was away.”
“Yeah, a month ago!” Stephanie points out. God, had it really been a month since he and Stephanie talked? Tim really flies when you’re out of Gotham.
“You could’ve called too.” Tim shrugs, taking a look around the room. “Where are Jason and Duke?”
Cass frowned. “Little brother has a broken arm.” Is it just him or has Cass’s English really improved? “Will be late.”
“And Jason?”
“Right here.” Tim turns to see Jason walking towards him. The man hasn’t grown, he’s still six feet of muscle. When he takes off his jacket, Tim catches some new tattoos on his arms. “How’s New York been, Timber?”
“Good. The new Wayne E. up there is running smoothly, but I’ll probably have to make a few calls sooner or later.” Tim shrugs. “How’s the Alley?”
“Still Crime-ing. Got the overall rate down. Stopped that gang I was talking to you about last week.” Jason informs bringing Tim in for a hug and patting his back the way he always has.
“Oh, so you can call Jason but you can’t call me? I see how it is Tim.” Tim turns to the blonde who has her hands up in the air and her lips pushed together.
“Jason called me, there’s a difference Steph.” Tim points out, not missing Cass hiding a laugh behind her hand.
“Nah, he’s just saying that. He likes me way more than you, Blondie.” Jason smirks as he goes to put his arm around Stephanie.
“Count your days, Drake.” Stephanie gives him a pointedly look that has him laughing. The blonde girl turns her look to Jason. “And don’t laugh—you’re just as bad.”
Jason looked sheepish for a second before he narrowed his eyes and fixed her with a fake glare. “I don’t call people who fraternize with the enemy.” Had they not been having their regular family dinners? Was that not a thing anymore?
Tim never visited for more than a day or two in the past three years but he swore it seemed like his family saw too much of each other.
“Cass isn’t the enemy Jason, she’s your sister.” Ah. It seemed Jason and Cass hadn’t gotten over their little rivalry. They always disliked each other but they put it aside enough to work well together. Though Cass never allowed Jason to kill and always made a point to bring up his previous murderous tendencies to piss him off.
Cass nodded along but when Stephanie’s head was turned she put her hand against her neck in a straight line while Jason glared daggers at her. Knowing her girlfriend too well, Stephanie rolled her eyes. “You two are children.”
The door opening drew them away from their argument. A familiar dark skinned boy walked in and smiled at Tim. “Tim, you’re in town! For how long? Warning, if you say less than three days I will drop kick you.”
Tim smiles back at Duke. Duke hadn’t felt like his brother for a long time, he was more the guy who slept in the room opposite of his, the two barely spoke in his first year at Wayne Manor. Then Duke and Bruce got into their first fight and Jason had been out of town so Duke camped out at Tim’s apartment, and well, now they were brothers for real. “Please, I’d like to see you try.”
“Pfft,” Duke scoffs settling for a side hug because of his broken arm. “You’re not as in shape as you like to think, old man.” Duke smirks while Tim dramatically gives him a offended look.
“I’m barely three years older than you!”
“God,” Jason rolls this eyes at Tim. “You sound like Dick.”
Tim scrunches his nose at that. He did sound like Dick. God, getting older and slowly turning into your older brother was scary. Tim watches Duke dap Jason up, those two were always close. Duke patrolled a lot in Crime Alley and the Narrows so they always saw a lot of each-other when Duke was new to the game, even if he was a daytime vigilante. “Speaking of, where is Dick? Haven’t heard from him in a while.”
“Bludhaven, right?” Duke asks the others.
Cass shakes her head. “Mission. Will probably stop by tomorrow if he knows all are here.”
“Oh.” Duke shrugs. Him and Dick never really got along and they weren’t especially close. He’s pretty sure it’s because Dick’s a cop but theres probably other contributing factors too. “Dick’s also ‘bout as bad with calling as you. So, back to my original question. How long are you staying?”
“The summer.” Tim responds. “I’m hoping to stay for the whole time but I might have to make some trips back to New York. Got a whole life there, you know?”
“Yeah. I meant to ask, how’s it been? Ditching the suit and all?” Stephanie asks going back to her seat, Cass following.
“It was shitty at first, but my life is way more injury free.” Tim makes his way to his old favorite seat, the corner of the long couch. He angles himself towards everyone else in the room. “The worst injury I’ve had in the past six months was a paper cut.”
Duke snorts sitting on the arm of Jason’s solo chair, despite there being more seats. “Yeah, I’d trade that for this stupid broken arm any day.”
“Please, like you’d be able to quit your day-job.”
Duke smirks. “I’m more of a night-job guy nowadays anyway.”
“Really? Bruce switch you to night-shift?”
“Eh. More like I told him I needed to rotate between them, I’ve been trying to get a new job and bouncer doesn’t sound too appealing.”
“Bartenders better.” Jason comments.
“Bartenders suck.” Cass responds immediately.
“You’re only saying that cause Jay’s a bartender.” Tim points out, earning a shrug from Cass, as if to say ‘so?’.
Tim looks at his siblings as Cass and Jason start an argument. None of them have changed much. Jason is still brazen and loud, Cass is still witty and kind, Duke is still headstrong and nosy, and Stephanie is still reliable and funny. They all look the same, Duke maybe grew an inch or so.
None of them had changed as much as Damian. The last time Tim had been in Gotham, Damian wasn’t there. Mission, Dick had said. Maybe with his new team? The Outcasts. Pretty decent name. It probably had deeper meaning. Did Damian feel like an outcast?
He had reason to. Ex-assassin in a family of vigilantes. But even then, he had Cass. Jason as well, though he was never technically an assassin. Maybe it was because of his tanned skin? Still, Duke had a different skin tone than the rest of the family as well and Cass had about the same skin tone as Damian, maybe a shade lighter.
Maybe it was something deeper. Something nobody could possibly understand, especially not Tim.
The clearing of a throat drags Tim out of his thoughts. He sees Damian at the archway of the living room. “Supper is ready.”
“Supper,” Jason repeats, turning to look at Damian (Tim catches his eyes widening slightly before they relax. What the fuck is that about?), “God, you talkin’ to Alfred’s ghost or something?”
Damian glares and, for a moment, Tim expects a knife to be thrown at Jason. “Yes and he asked me to burn those pants. No person should wear those, let alone look at them.” Jason gives an offended look as he looks down at his jeans. “Disgracing Pennyworth even while he’s in the grave.”
His jeans weren’t the prettiest. They reminded Tim of rust. Could jeans be rusty? They were meant to be a dark blue but something about it made them look old. Stephanie, Duke, Tim, and Cass burst into laughter while Jason looks down at his jeans. “Are they actually bad?”
Duke ignores him and walks over to Damian. “Hey man,” Duke puts out his left hand, the unbroken arm, and Damian—surprisingly—takes it, pulling him in for something Tim liked to call a bro-hug. “Good to see you. How’s your team?”
Damian nods and they pull away. “They’re adequate. Harper and I have been training the Wests in basic hand to hand combat. It has been going as well as one could hope. How is your team?”
“Eh, same old, same old. Broke my arm.” Duke lifts his broken arm slightly.
“I can see.” Damian comments unimpressed as Cass makes her way over. She stands in front of Damian for a moment until he nods, then the girls hugging him tightly. He’s taller than her now, it’s weird to see. Tim recalls seeing Damian and Cass hug a couple times when they were younger. Back then Cass would push his head into her stomach. Now, Damian was pushing Cass’s head against his chest.
When they pull away, Stephanie is on him in an instant. They’re the same height, though Stephanie’s boots give her an inch that she shouldn’t have. Meaning, somehow, Damian is taller than the girl. “Brown. How is college?”
Damian’s making small talk. Again. This is concerning. “Oh, killing me, as usually. Why did I choose to go into pre-med? It makes me want to commit unspeakable crimes. Never take pre-med.”
Damian snorts. “It is too late, I fear.” Woah. How old was Damian again? Surely not old enough to be applying to colleges… He was just fourteen last year.
“Oh my God, did you get in!?” Stephanie pulls him into another hug. “Why didn’t you tell us? Who accepted you?”
Damian shrugs. “It is not important who accepted me. Though, feel free to note that there is a plethora of acceptance letters in my room. I have yet to decide where I will attend.”
When Damian manages to get Stephanie off of him, Jason puts a hand on his shoulder and pulls him in for a hug, ruffling the younger boys hair. They’re practically the same height now, so Jason has his hands level with his own head, it’s a weird sight.
Tim feels weird. Like he’s intruding. Tim didn’t hug Damian. Maybe he should’ve? Maybe the twitching of Damian’s hand was meant to pull him into a hug, not to attack him? “Proud of you, Brat. Next time you keep shit from me, I’ll track you down.”
“Yeah.” Duke nods patting Damian’s back. “I mean, keep things from these idiots all you want, but not me. I thought I was your favorite brother.”
“Please, we all know that’s Dick.” Tim comments, because surely that hasn’t changed. He needs something to be constant and Damian’s favor of Dick Grayson was something he could count on, right?
Tim barely keeps in a sigh of relief when Jason groans in agreement. “Oh, if I find out that piece of shit knew before me I’m burning down the manor.”
“Richard doesn’t know.” Damians hands twitch as he answers casually. Then, as if wanting to brush over that fact, he switches the topic easily. “How come your immediate threat for everything is to burn down the manor?
Jason shrugs. “I like fire.”
“You are a cave man.” Damian rolls his eyes at Jason.
“So,” Tim says to Damian, who turns his way. Tim’s a little annoyed he has to look up, but he does so anyway. “What are you going to college for?”
“I plan to follow our grandfathers footsteps.” Tim freezes mentally for a moment, his mind going to Ra’s Al Ghul. Then Tim registers the our and realizes he can’t be talking about Ra’s Al Ghul. And, well, surely he’s not talking about Tim’s biological grandfather, Tim Drake. So, that leaves Thomas Wayne. “Specifically a trauma surgeon. Though I am contemplating being a field medic in the army.“
“Why go to the army when you can be a field medic right here?” Stephanie jokes.
“Not much use when you all insist on tending to your own wounds.”
“True.” Stephanie agrees with a shrug. “God, can’t remember the last time I went to the cave for a patch-up. I just let Cass handle it or do it myself, good practice, you know?”
“I know.” Damian nods in agreement. Had he been patching up his own wounds too?
“Now,” Jason claps Damian’s back harshly. “I believe you said something about supper?”
“Remove your hand or I will slaughter you and your whole family.” Now that sounded more like Damian.
“You’d have to kill yourself.” Duke points out.
“A price I’m willing to pay.” Damian responds casually. That was a joke. From Damian of all people.
Fuck, Tim should really visit Gotham more often.
Damian leads the way to the dining room and Tim is shocked to see what the new chef prepared. There’s Tim’s favorite meal on the table, alongside some of his siblings favorites as well. Lasagna, shrimp, pasta, mansaf, and lobster.
Jason freezes. “Lobster? Is Bruce here lurking?” Jason looks around the corner. Lobster is Bruce’s favorite meal, this is something all of his kids know. Dick even claimed that he once had to eat lobster for two full weeks because Bruce refused to eat anything else. Tim’s not sure how true that is but he remembers laughing like it was anyway.
Damian rolls his eyes. “No. I suspect father won’t be joining us. He’s been patrolling around this time, recently, in hopes to come back earlier and get more rest. It was made just in case.”
“Hm.” Jason sits down. “As if B could ever get his head out of his ass enough to join in on family dinner.”
“Oh, come on,” Stephanie starts to serve herself, loading lasagna onto her plate. “You were ready to bolt when you saw the lobster.”
“He threw a batarang at my neck, I feel like I have the right.” Jason defended.
“Years ago. Get over it.” Cass rolled her eyes. “Besides, that is not the new issue.”
“Yeah, it’s not.” Jason agrees but doesn’t explain further. “Props to the chef. Made a lot of good shit.” Jason tilts his cup in Damian’s direction who nods in agreement.
“Yeah. I meant to ask when we spoke before, who’s Bruce’s new hire?” Everyone turns to Tim confused immediately. Shit. He probably should’ve known that.
“New hire? Bruce hasn’t hired anyone?”
Oh. Thats why they were looking at him weird. “But then,” Tim gestured to the stacked table. “Who made all this?”
“I did.” Damian tilts his head in confusion at Tim’s question. He looks like a cat.
“What?” Tim’s brows furrow. “You can cook? Since when?”
“He’s been cooking since Alfred died.” Duke points out, which can’t be right because Alfred died when Damian was thirteen. “I burnt whatever I made and Bruce was banned from the kitchen after trying to make eggs and leading to us having to evacuate.”
“Pennyworth taught me. He realized not every Wayne child could be hopeless in the kitchen.”
“Oh, please! I’m great in the kitchen.” Jason points out. When Stephanie opens her mouth to say ‘me too’ Jason cuts her off, not letting her get past the first word. “You fucked up ramen in a cup. You can’t cook for shit.”
Tim must’ve still looked shocked because Damian rolls his eyes hard and says in a slightly annoyed tone, “What do you think I’ve been eating these past years? Oatmeal?”
“Well, I expected some cereal too.” Tim half-jokes while he tries to wrap his mind around the fact that not only can Damian cook, but he also learned to make his siblings’ favorite meals. Tim knew from his mother that making White Risotto was hard, often his mom accidentally over stirred it or overcooked it. “I didn’t know you were a cook.”
“To no one’s surprise.” Damian mumbles under his breath, loading his plate with a mixture of all the foods he’s made as long as they’re meat free.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tim furrows his brows in confusion looking around the table. Duke averts his eyes to his food, raising is brows, and sneaking looks at Damian and Tim. What an Instigator.
When no one answers for him, Damian huffs, swallowing his food. “It means I expected that of you, given you know nothing of me now.”
“You’re being dramatic.” Tim scoffs. “I know loads about you. We talk all the time.” Even as he says it he’s not sure it’s true.
“Bullshit.” Hearing Damian curse is weird and wrong. He’s still ten years old. He’ll always be ten years old in Tim’s mind. Maybe that’s the issue. “You did not even know I had a team until this morning.”
“So?” Tim shrugs. “I didn’t know Duke broke his arm. I’m not keeping up with the vigilante stuff, haven’t been since I quit.”
“My life should not fall under the category of ‘vigilante stuff’.” Damian points out.
“It doesn’t.” Tim argues. “I mean, we don’t talk all the time, that was an exaggeration. But we do talk sometimes.”
“Before today, we have not properly talked since your birthday.”
“That’s—” Fuck. “Well, that’s just not true.” It is so true. Tim is a terrible brother. Fuck. A year? He hadn’t talked to Damian in a year?
“And before that,” Damian goes on. “We had not seen each other since your very first visit to Gotham in December, nearly three years ago.” Sensing that Tim was about to weakly disagree, he added, “Which is why you were so shocked to see my growth spurt, which started in January of the following year.”
His siblings are all looking between them now, none of them bothering to hide it. “Never insult my memory again, or my intelligence, by insinuating I was lying about something so childish.” Damian glares at Tim and, for once, Tim feels like he deserves it. “If you could excuse me.” Damian pushes himself out of the chair and walks out of the kitchen. His steps can’t be heard but Tim assumes he goes up the stairs.
“What the fuck, Tim.” Jason breaks the silence, stuffing his mouth with mashed potatoes. “A year? Really? That’s messed up and that’s coming from me.”
“Please, he said you hadn’t been over in four months and, how much you wanna bet you didn’t talk to him in those four months?” It’s not a reach, when you’re living at the manor and Jason is in a fight with Bruce, he avoids you like the plague. Just incase theres a sneak attack waiting to happen. By Jasons look of guilt, covered almost immediately by annoyance, Tim knows he’s hit the mark on that one.
“Still, Tim.” Stephanie continues. “You don’t live in Gotham anymore, you have to make more of an effort. We see Damian all the time on patrol, it’s different for us.”
Tim slumps in his seat. “I know, okay? I just—Damian and I,” He gestures to the exit of the kitchen. “We never got along. I figured it’d be best if we kept it to family gatherings. I mean, I didn’t even think he saw me as a brother. You know?”
“Oh, Dick would be so pissed if he heard you say that.” Jason comments.
“Alfred too.” Cass adds, earning a nod from Jason.
“I know. I just never thought me not speaking to him would bother him.” Is it fucked up that the thought makes Tim feel happy?
“Damian is…” Cass pauses, searching for the word. “Envious of you.”
“What?”
“Since always. He has wanted to be like you.” Cass further explains casually, eating some broccoli off her plate. “He has not always loved you but when he grew up he started to.”
That somehow makes everything worse. When Damian started to grow up, Tim started to pull away from his entire family as a whole. Not intentionally at first, but eventually he realized his life was less dramatic and fucked up so at some point it was intentional.
And, somehow, that’s when Damian started to love him for real? Not that he’s my bother so I love him bullshit but the honest to God I’d sacrifice myself for you type of brotherly love. He could probably see that Tim wanted to spend less time with him than usual. Tim is a bad older brother.
Dick was right, Tim just needed to give Damian a shot—to not constantly see him as that same murderous ten year old he always saw him as.
Tim pushes away from the table and makes his way upstairs without another thought. God, he always though Damians was a bad brother but Tim is worse. He passes Damians room and goes straight to Damians art room. He doesn’t bother knocking, Damian always hated that about Tim. He was so used to living alone he always forgot to knock on doors.
Damian doesn’t even turn to him. He has on WayneTech headphones Tim’s familiar with. He’s pretty sure they’re noise cancelling or have a noise cancelling option. He’s sitting in front of a canvas with a pencil, preparing to do the outlines of his sketch, Tim assumes. “I figured you’d be here.” Tim says, unsure if the boy can hear him. “You used to always come here after you and Dick fought. Or I guess you and anybody. Somethings never change.”
“Like your inability to knock before entering a room. Alfred truly failed on teaching you manners.” Damian comments after a moment. Huh. So he can hear Tim. “Is there a reason you’re here? I’m not in the mood to reminisce.”
“Understandable. I want to say sorry.” Tim walks further into the art room, shutting the door behind him. Across from Damian, in front of another canvas that’s not blank but not completed fully, there’s an empty seat. There wasn’t always two chairs in the room. Tim wonders if someone comes in and paints with Damian. Maybe he has normal friends—not related to vigilantes at all—that paint with him.
The fact he doesn’t know if that’s a thing hurts. They haven’t always been the closest but Tim’s always known. He’s a detective for God’s sake. He knew about Colin and Maps and Jon and even Maya. He feels like he should know about this.
Damian doesn’t stop him from speaking nor does he remove his eyes from the canvas. Tim continues, “I stopped talking to you intentionally. I thought it’d be better for both of us, you know? Less arguing and shit. I didn’t think you’d be upset by it, I’m sorry.” It’s a shitty apology. Alfred Pennyworth is rolling over in his grave. Dick Grayson is driving down to Gotham just to beat Tim’s ass.
“The phone works both ways. It is as much my fault as it is yours.” Damian says. “With the way I acted, it was right to assume I would not have appreciated constant conversation with the likes of you.”
That’s so fucking mature for Damian Wayne it somehow makes Tim feel worse. Why is the ex-assassin better at apologizing than Tim? “Still.” Tim shrugs. “I never made you feel like you could call, did I?”
“And you’re saying I did?”
“No,” Tim shakes his head. “But it’s different. I’m the older brother. You’re still a kid. When Cass moved out she reached out to me, I never called her right after she moved out even though I wanted to.” He had wanted to give her independence. Had Damian wanted the same for Tim?
“That’s idiotic. Just because your older does not mean the fault is yours.”
“It’s how most people will see it and it’s how I see it.” Tim explains, then shakes his head. “Point is, you were right. I don’t know anything about you. I’m a terrible brother and person.”
“I approve of the apology thus far.” Damian jokes, earning a laugh from Tim.
“But,” Tim says once he’s recovered from his laughs. “I’ve still got the whole summer in Gotham. I think you and I can make the most out of it.”
Damians hand on the canvas stills. For the first time in this whole conversation, blue eyes meet green. “Really?” He sounds hopeful. Tim promises himself he won’t fuck it up this time.
“Yeah, sure. And it won’t last just the summer. We’ll go to the Knights game. You like baseball right?”
“It’s not entirely boring.” Damian states.
“Cool. Then whenever the Gotham Knights play the Metropolis Monarchs we’ll go together with Jon and Kon. We can do that yearly, if you want.”
“I do.” Damian nods at a speed he’s clearly embarrassed by if the pink tint to his cheeks were anything to go by. “Perhaps just us two as well?”
“Oh, yeah.” Tim agrees easily, like that was the plan all along (it was). “Doubt the Knights will ever make it to the finals but we can find another team to like together.”
“That’d be fun.” Damians hand is back on the canvas, steadying it as he draws.
“It’s settled then. I’ll let you know the exact day when I buy the tickets but, for now,” Tim stands off the chair he was sitting on. “Let’s go finish dinner. Maybe you could ditch your patrol and we can get ice cream.”