Chapter Text
For once, life at Wayne Manor was not a chaotic jumble of broken furniture and loud arguments. (At least, not if you didn’t count the three shattered chandeliers.) At the dinner table, Jason was actually acting calm, Damian wasn't a raging inferno of sass, and Tim had willingly taken a nap—which, while not a full eight hours, was better than his usual cycle of coffee, more coffee, and then forced slumber. Even Bruce wasn’t being as much of a paranoid ass-hat as usual. For Dick, it was a peaceful evening.
But of course, that peace was shattered the moment Jason found the tapes.
Let’s start from the beginning. It all began on a regular Saturday, which was the day everyone who could, came over to the Manor for the magic of Alfred's home-cooked meals. Dinner had just finished, and everyone was relaxing in the living room. Damian had his sketchbook, Tim had his gadgets (meaning a laptop, a phone, and a tablet, all at once), Jason was armed with sarcasm, Bruce was reading a book, and even Alfred had his cup of tea.
Everything was going well until Damian spoke up.
"Richard," he said, not looking up from his sketchbook. "Why is there a box in the attic labeled with your name?"
Dick frowned, flummoxed by the sudden question. "I'm not sure, Dami. It might be some of my old stuff from when I moved out."
Damian shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing. "No, it is not personal items. It is tapes."
It couldn't be. He hadn't left them at the Manor, had he? The thought of his younger brothers watching them made the blood drain from Dick’s face.
Damian, being the observant child he was, noticed his older brother's sudden pallor and became suspicious. And because the entire family were nosy brats, Tim, of course, had to chime in.
"Then why don't we bring them down to look at them?" Tim said with a mischievous glint in his eye.
"NO!" Dick immediately stood up, his voice cracking. "I mean, no! It's okay, I don't think any of us need to see what's on those tapes."
Jason must have seen the way Dick's palms were slick with sweat, and he recognized the perfect opportunity to cause some trouble. "You know what? Now I really think we should see those tapes."
As all three of them moved toward the stairs, Dick, in total desperation, turned to Bruce and Alfred. "Bruce! Alfred! Help me here!"
Alfred smiled faintly into his teacup. "I must admit, Master Dick, that even I am quite interested in seeing what those tapes contain."
Seeing that even Alfred was on their side and that Bruce had made no move to object, Jason let out a loud whoop. Dick sank back down onto the sofa, burying his head in his hands. He shook his head in utter defeat. How he hated this family.