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The oldest Wayne boy was Dick. He had taken over providing for his brothers once their dad had vanished without a trace. He took whatever job he could handle and some that he couldn’t. He tried to take over for their dad in every sense but in the end, his brothers convinced him that they didn’t need another dad. The last one(s) hadn’t turned out that well. Dick’s three younger brothers just wanted their older sibling.

The first time someone suggested leaving the youngest out of a rumble, they had gotten their ass beaten by the kid. Damian Wayne was nearly twelve but one of the toughest greasers on their side of town. He was almost too much of a wild child and their gang was worried the cops would be after him but their family stuck together. No one was going to take Damian away from them. 

If the youngest didn’t already garner enough attention, the middle two weren’t helping the Waynes’ child protective services situation at all. 

Jason and Tim had been inseparable since Jason had stumbled back into their lives three years prior. Well, the first few weeks they couldn’t be separated because Jason was too busy trying to knock Tim’s head around, thinking that he had been replaced in the family. A few weeks after that, they were side-by-side for a whole other reason not entirely appropriate for two kids who called themselves brothers. 

——————————————

As Dick Grayson hung from the horizontal bars, he had two things on his mind: His old man and a ride home.

The ride home wasn’t for him, it was for one of his younger brothers and he was thinking about his real father, not the person he used to call his old man. 

Tim would need a ride home from his high school internship since Jason wasn’t around to get him and Dick wasn’t about to let Damian wander the streets by himself. Tim and Damian walking back to their neighborhood just the two of them would cause more trouble than it was worth. 

He idly wondered if it was worth calling Bart or Jaime to grab Tim but knew that his brother wouldn’t be happy about it. But Dick didn’t care much. Gotham was a dangerous place, especially in their neck of the woods. Their gang had had enough trouble in the weeks leading up the rumble and now that it was barely a week away, tensions were high. 

So, no, Tim wasn’t going to walk alone in Gotham. Neither was Damian. Not when it was Dick’s responsibility to take care of them both. He didn’t care that they were both going to be in the rumble. That was different. Their gang watched over them in a rumble. Not on a Wednesday night on what would be an hour and a half walk for Tim because they couldn’t afford to share to metro card among the four of them. 

Three of them, Dick reminded himself. 

He wondered what his old man would say, knowing that Jason had disappeared on a stupid job again. Sure it had only been a few days but that was more than enough to make Dick sick, Tim a nervous wreck, and Damian furious. Dick just hoped that it would only be a week or so. He wasn’t sure any of them could handle Jason being gone for a year again. 

Not that Dick was in any position to make judgments. 

Dick ran away from the circus when he was nine years old. He took a deep breath as he remembered that had been nearly fifteen years prior. 

His parents had been murdered in the middle of their act and suddenly, the loving circus Dick had grown up in wasn’t so safe anymore. Not for a vulnerable nine year old who might have had mobsters after him. Haly’s old carnival barker said he knew a place and Dick couldn’t stop crying long enough to agree. 

The barker said someone in Gotham owed him a favor, which is how they ended up in a house on the wrong side of town. He was an okay fellow and Dick had known him since he was in diapers but he wasn’t anyone’s dad. Dick relied on himself and the few friends he met. It was one thing Gotham had in common with the circus. People watched out for their own. Wally, Donna, and the rest of their gang. 

Dick Grayson stopped existing. He became Dick Wayne. A name he had picked out of the paper the morning after the incident. 

Dick went to school, was happy, and had friends. He even met Roy, who was rich but they went to the same school and got along so well that Dick’s future seemed brighter by the day. Even more so when he found himself a little brother. 

Well, when his first little brother found him. 

When Dick brought home Jason, the barker went back to the circus, sending them money every now and then. Dick tried to ask who owned the house but the barker never answered. Just told him not to go looking for trouble.

He had stayed in school for the most part. As long as he could. But after Jason came Tim, and then, Damian and school didn’t seem so important anymore.

Dick had thought his brothers needed an education more than he did. They became more important. He hadn’t wanted to go to college anyway. He wanted to help people but couldn’t go to the police academy without real paperwork to his name. 

So it was odd jobs for Dick Wayne. This was easily his favorite though. He had come into the gym to see if he could practice. He had been eleven with no money but he made a deal with the owner. If Dick cleaned the equipment every night, he could use it whenever he wanted. That sat just fine with Dick. He’d never forget how to be a Flying Grayson that way.

He tried not to think of what his parents would say if they could see him now. He hoped they would be proud of him for watching out for his brothers and doing his best. That had been one of the main rules in the manual anyway. 

How to be a Flying Grayson. 

He still had the fake guide, looseleaf papers held together with a single staple, stuffed inside one of the books he had taken from his parents’ circus trailer before running away. His dad had written it as a joke. Five year old Dick wanted to know when he could fly and his father had written the entire training schedule out for him, from five years of age up until he was eighteen. 

Instead of flying from the trapeze at eighteen, Dick had three younger brothers,  a missing carnival barker for an old man, and about eight different jobs. Which was just fine with him. It helped keep his makeshift family together. It provided a new sweatshirt for Tim who couldn’t ever seem to get warm in the winter, a proper backpack for Damian who had clutched it as though it was made of gold, and ingredients for Jason so he could cook properly for all them.

Dick’s stomach growled at the thought of Jason’s cooking. The eighteen year old knew his way around their measly kitchen. Four days without him meant the leftovers were almost gone and Dick wasn’t about to let Damian near the stove.

“Richard Wayne! I’m not paying you to hang around all day! Get started on that equipment!”

Dick sighed and dropped off the bars, landing in perfect form. 

Flying Grayson indeed.

——————————————

Dick heard the front door slam and automatically knew that it wasn’t going to be a good night. “How was school?” He called from the kitchen, where he was separating their financial documents. He was pretty certain of himself but he would probably end up asking Tim to look everything over just in case.

“Fine.” Tim muttered. He dropped his backpack on the kitchen chair and kept moving through the room. He opened the fridge door but shut it again quickly when he realized that the leftovers from Jason had been finished the previous night.

Dick shook his head and pretended to focus back on the paperwork. “You’re doing a really good job at convincing me of that, kiddo.” He saw Tim’s grip on the fridge handle tighten.

“Shut up, Dick.” Tim said tightly.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.” Dick finally turned towards him. If it was just about Jason, Tim would be grumbling under his breath or talking to Dick, not brooding.

“Ives, okay? It’s just Ives.” Tim exhaled and his entire body seemed to lose its energy. Dick’s heart sank. In all the chaos surrounding Jason and the rumble, he had forgotten about Tim’s friend. One of his only friends outside their neighborhood gang.

“He didn’t get approved for the treatment.” Dick stated in disbelief. It wasn’t a question.

“No, he didn’t.” Tim looked at the kitchen door and Dick could tell he was imagining Jason walking through. 

Dick didn’t say anything else. He knew that the treatment had been Ives’ last chance at a healthy life. It had been a hail mary play from his family but it had still gotten everyones’ hopes up. And now Ives didn’t have much time left at all. 

Dick also knew that Tim had gotten his laboratory internship at Wayne Laboratories a year before any other student in Gotham, not just because of his grades, but because of a heart-breaking essay about wanting to go into the medical field in order research his friend’s disease. Jason had wordlessly held Tim close the whole night after reading it the night before Tim had sent out the final application.

“Has Jason come back yet?” Tim asked quietly and Dick didn’t comment on the change of subject. If Tim wanted to talk about something, he would. Otherwise, he was frustratingly silent on a topic. Dick still didn’t even know where Tim came from and he had been part of their family for nearly six years.

“No. And I haven’t heard from him either. You know he can’t stay away from us for long.” Then, softer. “He can’t stay away from you for that long again, Tim.” Dick told him earnestly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. None of it is your fault, Dick.” Tim whispered. His fists clenched and unclenched as he took deep breaths. Dick stood up from his seat and went over to him, ignoring the half-step back that Tim had started to take and wrapping his arms around his brother. Tim leaned into his hug but didn’t return it. He just stood there and let Dick hug him, comfort him.

It never was Dick’s fault but that didn’t mean he stopped feeling guilty. Tim had been a source of it ever since Dick had found him, beaten and half-dead eleven year old, in the abandoned lot near their house. Jason was usually the one who could make Tim loosen up and smile. But they hadn’t seen him in five days. He and Jason had the most confusing and strong relationship that Dick had ever seen. But that came with Jason wanting to take care of Tim and the rest of the family, which meant taking dangerous jobs and leaving in the middle of the night so no one could talk him out of it. 

“You know Jason. He finds jobs that he thinks are worth the risk.”

“But sometimes they’re not. And he knows that and goes off anyway before I can stop him.”

“I know.” Dick stepped back, watching carefully as Tim grabbed his bag off the chair and headed to the single room on the second floor of their small home. It was the room that he and Jason usually shared. Damian had taken over Jason’s side of the mattress this week so Tim wouldn’t have to sleep by himself.

The kitchen door, that Tim had been willing Jason to come through, opened but it was only Damian. He had probably been tailing Tim. The twelve year old was fiercely protective of everyone in the family and since Jason had disappeared, he had apparently decided that it was Tim’s turn. 

“Little D. I need you to go easy on Tim tonight, okay?”

“I am always easy on him.” Damian huffed and grabbed the milk carton out of the fridge.

“Well, no, you’re not. But this time I mean it.”

Damian paused as he realized what Dick was talking about. “…His friend?”

“Ives.” Dick confirmed. 

“And Jason hasn’t returned?”

“Exactly.”

“Okay.”

Damian was never needlessly mean, just rough. They were all rough. They had to be. Gotham insisted. 

Dick watched as Damian left the kitchen, presumably to go and needle Tim into telling him a story. Tim always knew the oddest historical stories. Maybe it came with being strikingly smart. When Tim had told Dick that he was applying to colleges a year early, Dick’s heart ached. Tim had the grades and the determination, he just needed the scholarship money. Dick did everything he could to save for him but he knew that Tim would never accept it. 

“It’s not fair. Jason should be the one going to college.”

“Well, Jason is legally dead. And until I can figure out a way to fix that, he’s going to have to stay with jobs under the table and try not to get too creamed in the rumbles.”

A few thuds came from upstairs that got him out of his stupor and chuckling. Damian never asked for a story first; it always started with the two of them roughhousing. Muffled voices came through the thin floor. 

“Tell me a story?”

“What about?”

“The Romans.”

“Where did I leave off?”

“One of the Titus emperors.”

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

Ives died two days after being denied the treatment and a full week after Jason had left for his newest job. Tim didn’t speak as they prepared for the rumble and not for the first time in his life, Dick didn’t know what to say to one of his younger brothers. 

——————————————

“Let’s go, Tim!” Dick called up the stairs. They were supposed to be at the Reyes house twenty minutes prior, Jaime’s mother being kind enough cook them all a big meal before the rumble. She wasn’t entirely happy with Jaime fighting but some of the kids from the other side of Gotham had threatened her daughter, Milagro, so she was through being impartial to their neighborhood wars.

Usually, the pre-rumble meal took place at the Wayne house with Jason cooking for the whole crew. However, he still hadn’t returned so Jaime had insisted that everyone come over to his place and it was already dark outside.

“Gar eats like an animal. At this rate, there will be nothing left.” Damian muttered under his breath. Dick watched as he poked at his stomach through one of Tim’s old t-shirts. Damian had the oddest habits. It’s probably why he didn’t fit in with any of the other greasers. Well, no one in their family really did, except maybe Jason but he was too much in love with Tim to fall in them full-time.

Dick hated the term ‘greaser.’ To him, it was just another costume, a different circus act. But if playing the part protected his brothers and home, then he’d make friends with whomever he had to. 

As Tim came down the stairs, he looked…mean and Dick had half a mind to lock the two of them in the house while he went to the rumble. Dick had never wanted that for his brothers. He barely had hold of Jason. He needed Tim and Damian to keep their optimism on life. Not that either of them had a lot to begin with. They could make something of themselves. So could Jason once Dick got everything sorted out. And he would. He was trying.

Tim already seemed older than his sixteen years, even as he took off his cheap reading glasses and set them on the mantle. They looked crooked and Dick made a mental note to ask Damian about them later. Tim wouldn’t admit he needed new glasses but Damian would needle it out of him. 

Tim smirked at Damian and their younger brother immediately perked up. Damian and Tim were a vicious team when given the chance in a rumble. The only reason Dick had given it the okay was when Damian promised to stick close to Tim. Jason hadn’t even let Tim in a rumble until he was fourteen, claiming that he was too tiny. He hadn’t been wrong.

Jason himself was ruthless during rumbles in a way that made Dick worry about all the jobs he took that he never told anyone about. Dick half-hoped he would tell Tim to ease his mind but he had a feeling the job descriptions would cause Tim more worry.

——————

Dick tried his best to keep an eye on his brothers during the rumble. Barring the rain and mud on the darkened field, there was too much commotion between the two gangs. He knew that if Jason were there, he’d be watching out for Tim, and Damian, as a default but Dick wasn’t about the ask any of the other neighbors to do the same. They were his family, no one else’s. 

Besides, Dick had his own problems to worry about. Roy had showed up to fight for the other side, rich teens whose idea of a good time was causing trouble for the poorer neighborhoods. It wasn’t the first time Dick’s ex-boyfriend had been in a rumble but it was the first time since they broke up. 

“You’re missing a brother, Wayne.” Roy smirked at him. Dick’s eyes widened and he didn’t waste time in tackling Roy onto the muddy ground. He knew something that Dick didn’t. Dick would bet his meager savings that Roy had somehow been behind Jason’s newest, long job.

Suddenly, the rumble was going in their favor, Roy was scrambling away from the fight, and Dick was able to breathe long enough to look around for his brothers. Damian was holding his own against one of the smaller members whose name Dick couldn’t remember.

Tim, though…Tim was just standing, letting the rain come down on him as he stared at someone who was staring right back at him. 

Dick blinked the rain away and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Tim was so distracted that he didn’t even see the swift knock headed towards the side of his head.

The figure Tim had been looking out let out a hoarse yell as Tim hit the ground. In tackling the other member, the figure was closer and became clear. 

It was Jason.

No wonder Tim had been distracted. 

The person who had kicked Tim was trying and failing to get out of Jason’s chokehold. It wouldn’t have been possible without Tim letting out a choked “Jason! It’s over. We won.”  

Jason’s head perked up and he let the other man go. He stayed on his knees though, letting the rain beat down on him. He didn’t have long to catch his breath before Tim collided with him, bringing them both to the ground. Jason instinctively wrapped his arm around Tim’s waist and was about to bury his head in Tim’s neck when he pulled away. 

Tim didn’t give Jason time to realize what was happening before he hit him square in the jaw. 

“Ugh. Babybird.” Dick could hear Jason’s resigned groan over the rain but behind him, he also heard the voices of Wally, Jaime, and the rest of their gang. 

“What are the Waynes doing?”

“Is that Jason?”

“I hadn’t realized he was back.”

“They look like they’re having their own rumble.”

“We already won. Let’s leave them to it.”

And they had won the rumble. Barely. 

Dick heaved Damian over his shoulder, ignoring his struggle and swear words. “Don’t start with me, Little D. I might have to do this with Jason’s body later after Tim murders him and leaves him on the field.”

“Timothy doesn’t have the strength to kill Jason.”

“Don’t underestimate a scorned teenager, Dami,” DIck shook his head. “Let’s go, you two.” Tim had finished trying to land punches on Jason. They were both still on the ground but now both of Jason’s arms were locked around Tim’s waist and their foreheads were pressed together. 

Dick left them to it. 

Jason would get Tim out of the rain. 

He always did.

——————

Tim avoided Dick’s gaze as he made his way through the door, soaked to the bone. He headed immediately up the stairs, knowing full well that Dick and Jason were about to have a tense conversation that he didn’t want to be involved in. Damian, who had been making his bed on the sofa, looked between Dick and Jason before running up after Tim.

Jason sat on Damian’s bed, head hung low, and let Dick rest in front of him, leaning against the dresser that had been trash-picked for Damian.

“Where the hell were you?” Dick started, thinking it was a good a place as any to start.

Jason took a deep breath before he started to explain himself. “I heard about the rumble and came right back. I stopped home first to drop off my stuff but you guys had already left.”

“Ives is dead, Jay. And you weren’t there for Tim. Where the hell were you?”

Jason paled at the mention of Ives but he shook himself out of it to continue his argument.“Getting us money!”

“What was it this time? Dealing drugs? Train hopping with stolen goods?” Dick lowered his voice to a hiss, knowing that Tim and Damian could hear them whether or not they were listening.

“None of your damn business.”

“You’re no use to us dead from a stupid job, Jason.”

“I’m already dead.” Jason spat and Dick stepped forwards.

“Shut up. Shut up. No, you’re not.” He insisted, wanting to move again but the eighteen year old already looked defensive.

“I am though. So why does it matter if I risk everything to get you guys money? It’s worth it. To me it’s worth it.” Jason’s eyes pleaded with Dick but he stood firm.

“We’d rather have you than money and I don’t know how many times I need to explain that to you. We don’t need to go through that again, none of us. If you want to take a stupid job, at least let us know about it first. Let Tim know about it so he can talk you out of it and let Damian know so he can tie you to the couch.”

“I didn’t have time. Someone came and found me early that morning and said that Harper-“

“Roy got you a job? Roy? The same Roy who- Jason, he thinks we’re trash.”

“Yea well, I’m fast-moving trash who made three grand this past week so I don’t care.”

“He’s the one who killed you in the first place.”

Jason sat up a little straighter and didn’t bother to steady his voice. “He didn’t kill me. I asked him to forge paperwork so that I would be dead.” He hissed. “I was young and stupid and it’s over now because nothing can change that. So now I can’t hold a real job to support Tim or anyone in the family so this is what I need to do instead! It’s no one’s fault but my own.”

Dick brought up his hand to rub his temples. He had tried too long to convince Jason that it hadn’t been his fault. He hadn’t known better and Roy had taken advantage of whatever naivety Jason had had left. “Jason…” 

“I’m sorry, Dick. I am sorry.” Jason could have probably apologizing for any out of the wide variety of things that he had done.

Jason thought that legally labeling himself as dead would not only get his asshole parents off his trail but would force social services to stop looking for him. He didn’t think it through. He had been sixteen when Dick’s boyfriend at the time, Roy Harper, forged the paperwork and used Jason as a scapegoat in one of the stupid schemes he & his friends were planning. It had been Roy’s idea entirely.

Dick hadn’t spoken to Roy since. Though he’d admit to feeling a bit better after punching him in the face at that night’s rumble. 

“Go upstairs to Tim. He needs you now. Don’t disappear again, Jason.” Dick placed his hand on Jason’s shoulder but his brother refused to make eye contact with him.

“I can’t promise you that. We need the money.”

“Tim needs you more. We all do. We’re a family, damn it, Jason.”

“Are you coming up tonight?”

They usually didn’t all tumble into one bed but some nights, they felt better having each other close. On a rumble night especially. So instead of his sofa bed, Damian would curl up in the middle of them all, and rather than staying in his downstairs bedroom, Dick would try to protect his brothers in his sleep.

“Yea, I’ll be there in a few.”

“Bring something frozen for your face. Your eye is going to look like hell in the morning.”

Dick rolled his eyes. That was his brother. “Thanks, Jay.”

——————

“You have to see this boy, Mr. Wayne. He’s absolutely brilliant.”

“We employ boys now at Wayne laboratories?” Bruce Wayne’s easy comment received a few chuckles from the scientists that were surrounding him as he completed his weekly rounds through Wayne holdings. He was meant spend the afternoon being covertly introduced to a few of the candidates for the company’s college scholarships. It was far more exciting than what he had planned for his night, yet another gala with some of Gotham’s richest.

“Are you talking about Timothy?” Another researcher spoke up. “If that’s the case, the term isn’t that far off. Sixteen but quite brilliant.”

“Sixteen? Isn’t that a bit young for the program?” Bruce asked curiously, trying to recall the ages of the previous interns. Sixteen sounded awfully young. 

“He had the grades and the determination. Much more than most.” A different scientist agreed. 

“Well, add him to the list. I’d like to meet him today.”

--------

Bruce smiled at the young man, Timothy, amused by how large the lab coat was on his lithe frame. “You know, Timothy, you’re an intelligent teenager.  I hear that you’re applying for early admission to college and I hope you applied for the Wayne scholarship. We’d love to sponsor someone like you.”

“Um, thank you, sir.” Tim responded quietly, not bringing his eyes up to look at Bruce Wayne. Of course the CEO of the company would come the day that he had a shiner courtesy of the previous night’s rumble. Unsurprisingly, the mark was not completely hidden beneath his protective goggles.

“Did you apply?” Bruce asked, setting down his paperwork-laden clipboard right in Tim’s downcast line of vision, making it clear that he wasn’t moving onto the next room until he had gotten an answer. Part of the reason he had expanded on the scholarship program was to help all students of Gotham and he felt a need to make sure the opportunities were available.

Tim took a deep breath before looking up. Blue eyes met blue eyes and Bruce’s flickered to the bruise surrounding Tim’s eye. Startled by the inquisitive, and almost worried, gaze, Tim answered honestly.

“Well, I tried but was denied. I’m applying to schools at sixteen and the scholarship is just for high school seniors.” He admitted, again turning back down to his notes.

Thinking off the cuff after having examined the young man’s eyes and bruise, Bruce lied. “We have scholarships for younger students as well. Take a look. I’m sure your superiors would be more than happy to write you a recommendation.” He made a mental note to inform the board members of the new money that needed to be set aside. 

He picked up his clipboard and was prepared to move on but something kept him there, at Tim’s counter, while the boy confidently prepared the beakers in front of him.

“Where did you get that bruise from?” He asked, trying to be casual.

He didn’t miss how Tim stopped moving and then immediately lied. “Mugging.” He answered simply. 

Bruce’s eyes narrowed but he didn’t comment on the obvious lie. He wasn’t sure what caused the bruise but a mugging was certainly not it. “You should be more careful. We wouldn’t want to lose one of our prize students.”

“Yes, sir.” Tim exhaled and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Bruce Wayne was gone.

--------

Tim had never left the Wayne laboratories so quickly. He ran out the side door so fast that he ran headfirst into Jason. 

It had been a week since Jason had come to meet and walk Tim back to their house. A long week of lonely walks that had Tim depressed and angry all at once. He took a step back from Jason and blinked. 

Jason had at least had the good grace to look pink under Gotham’s evening sky. “How was your day?” He asked, hopefully. Tim sighed again, not for the first time during his day and shook his head. One day, his inability to be furious at Jason was going to cause him trouble.

“It was…interesting. Where’s Damian?”

“Already home.” Jason answered quickly.

“Dick?”

“Selina got him a job tonight. He won’t be home til late. He took one of the phones.” Jason smiled fondly at Tim’s insistent check-in for every member of the family.

The family had two phones that they used to text or call each other. It was their only use of mobile communication since they couldn’t afford any more thank two and Dick had refused to let Tim and Damian attempt to train a carrier pigeon. Usually, someone took the first phone and then the second was left at the house, or with the majority of family members. A majority had to be in there somewhere in order for them to keep in touch in case of an emergency. 

“How are your bruises?” Jason asked, shifted his weight from one foot to another to lean his body over Tim. He only had a few inches on him but it was enough to make Tim scowl whenever he was reminded of it. He wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up being the shortest in the family. It wasn’t that he was short; everyone else was just tall and Damian was about to start shooting up, he could tell.

“Noticeable, apparently.” Tim muttered. “Yours?”

Jason frowned at the comment but didn’t address it. “How do you think they are? You’re the one who gave most of them to me.” Jason teased lightly, running his thumb gently over the bruised skin surrounding Tim’s eye. “You and Dick match.”

He reached out his hand for Tim’s schoolbag. Tim rolled his eyes and reluctantly handed it over. Jason slung it over his shoulder and held out his hand again. This time, Tim didn’t hesitate at all before intertwining their fingers for the walk home.

--------

“I tell you that I was able to get you a fancy bartending gig and you go get yourself a shiner the night before? You were hired half for your pretty face, you know.”

“I couldn’t let my brothers go into a rumble alone!”

“You shouldn’t be letting your brothers into the rumbles at all. Damian is too small and Tim looks like he’ll get all the brains knocked out of him.”

“And Jason?” Dick asked begrudgingly. People always forgot about Jason. Selina frowned at him but still kept applying the concealer to his bruised eye. 

“Well, he’s already dead. Nothing I can do for that.” She told him, very matter-of-fact.

“Don’t say it like that, Selina.” Dick wanted to rub his hand over his face in exasperation. Selina caught on and grabbed hold of his wrist so he didn’t ruin her makeup job.

“Right. Sorry, handsome. Forgot that I wasn’t supposed to know about that.”

“Damian has a weird sense of honor about watching over us and the neighborhood and Tim…Tim thinks he’s got something to prove, which, maybe he does., I don’t know.”

“You boys will be the death of me.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. Where’s this gig again, anyway?”

“Bartending the Wayne Foundation charity gala.”

--------

“Do you need help with that, sir? Um, I don’t mean to offend you but you look like my youngest brother whenever he tries to move furniture by himself.” Dick’s word vomit had gotten him in trouble before but he hoped that the kind old man outside one of Gotham’s cake shops would see that he meant no harm. In all honesty, it was Dick’s nervousness towards that night’s job that had him spouting off. 

Playing nice was one of Dick’s specialities but it got old quickly. He had been on his way from Selina’s to Wayne Manor when he had seen the older gentleman struggling with a package much too large and bulky for one man to handle.

Without waiting for an answer, Dick went and held up one side of the huge, box, attempting to carry most of the weight. “Well, we wouldn’t want that. I’d appreciate the help.” The old man thanked him breathlessly.

“It’s no problem at all.” 

“You’ll be late for your party.” The man said, gesturing to Dick’s borrowed tuxedo.

“Oh, um, well, don’t worry about it.” Dick smiled at the man and tilted his head towards the black Lincoln on the street, which he assumed belonged to the man.

--------

Bruce Wayne watched as his ballroom became transformed into yet another charity ball. He had been keeping an eye on everything and tried his best not to act surprised when an old flame came up to him about twenty minutes before guests were meant to begin arriving.

“Talia?” He asked, dumbly. Maybe he wasn’t so good on the not-acting-surprised part. He hadn’t seen her in twelve, thirteen years. “You look good.” He swallowed. He wasn’t lying. She was dressed in a violet gown, her hair swept to the side.  

She ignored his pleasantries and just raised an eyebrow at his outstretched hand. “I’m glad you’re keeping him out of your Gotham spotlight but I’m here to see him.” Her accented voice sounded just as it had over a decade prior.

“I…don’t know who you’re talking about, Talia.” Not for the first time with his ex-lover, Bruce felt as though he was missing out on something. She had always been several steps ahead of him.

“Sure, you don’t, Bruce. We’ll talk tomorrow night.” She turned a heel and walked out the same way she came in.

“I’ll make a note of it.” Bruce called after her, wondering what that had been about and curious as to why she had dressed up if she wasn’t even going to stay for the festivities. He was probably better off. Alfred wouldn’t want him to fall in with her again and as a general rule, Bruce tried to make a habit of listening to the man who had practically raised him.

--------

Dick tried not to be in awe of the Wayne Manor’s large ballroom but it was difficult. It almost reminded him of a giant three-ring circus, all music and fancy dress. He immediately noticed Holly, one of Selina’s proteges, playing escort to one of the wealthy Gotham citizens. She sauntered over to where he had been instructed to set up the bar.

“How’s it going, Holly?” He smiled at her and poured her a non-alcoholic drink. She wasn’t going to be happy about it but Dick knew she was underage and Selina would probably thank him for it later.

“Not terrible, Dick. Not with gigs like these.” She held up her hand to show off her champagne colored gloves and the bracelets (stolen on a previous night, no doubt) that adorned her wrists.

“I hear you.” Dick murmured. “Selina is a lifesaver.” Even if he felt uncomfortable in the suit that didn’t quite fit correctly, it was a high-paying job and he was able to keep all the tips for himself. The more jobs he took, the less jobs Jason had to hide.

Holly took a sip of her drink and shot Dick an annoyed look. “How are your boys?”

Dick always lit up when talking about his brothers, and after a few minutes, that grin caught the attention of that night’s host.

“-And, well, everyone knows what Tim is like.”

“Just imagine, though, a college boy in our neighborhood.”

Dick wagged his finger at Holly. “Don’t jinx it. I’ll tell Tim and he’ll never forgive you.”

A party guest came up to the bar and Dick stood up straight. “College talk?” The man asked. He had dark hair and blue eyes, both of which looked familiar but Dick couldn’t place his face.

“Ah- yes, my little brother. What can I get you, sir?” Dick changed the subject but the man was having none of it.

“What’s he looking to major in?” He asked and rested his elbow against the bar, half angled to Dick, half looking out onto the dance floor.

“He’s looking not to jinx an offer by pigeon-holing himself into one area.” Dick told him verbatim from what Tim had been repeating over the past few months.

“That’s very smart of him. He sounds like a bright boy, I’m sure he’ll get in.” He said confidently.

Dick and Holly shared a glance, knowing that acceptance to the school wasn’t going to be a problem. It was the scholarship letter that Tim would be looking for in the packet. Anything sort of a full-ride and there was no way Tim would be able to attend. Even if they could scrounge up the extra money, Tim wouldn’t go. He wouldn’t do that to his family.

“Thanks for saying so, sir.” Dick answered instead, wondering if he had served the man earlier in the night and was expected to remember his drink order. He was about to ask again when-

“Care to dance?” The man asked, turning those blue eyes onto Dick, who was caught by surprise and tempted to step on Holly’s dress in order to keep her close.

Instead, he took a deep breath and gave the man a humble smile. “That’s…incredibly kind, sir but I’m being paid a handsome amount to stand here and make drinks. If I want the job again, I best not leave my post.” 

The man nodded and hummed. “Very diplomatic answer.”

“I try.” Dick grimaced, ignoring the hand gestures coming from Holly, who had moved out of the man’s line of vision but directly into Dick’s.

“You really don’t know?” The man asked, an amused smile on his lips. 

“Um. Know what?” Dick blinked. Had he missed something again? Selina was going to kill him if he fucked up this job.

The man held out his hand and Dick shook it cautiously. “It’s my party. I’m Bruce Wayne and I’m the one paying you.”  The familiarity of his face seemed so obvious then. Dick must have seen his face in the Gotham papers a thousand times over. The man, Mr. Wayne, called the attention of a white haired, balding man, of whom Dick could not properly catch a glimpse. “Alfred? Do you mind finding a substitute or guarding Mr.-? He looked at Dick, expectantly. 

“Um. Wayne, actually. Dick Wayne.” Dick used his free hand to rub the back of his neck sheepishly, trying not to widen his eyes at the older gentleman standing next to Bruce Wayne. This Alfred was the same man who Dick had helped earlier, a personal valet to Gotham’s own billionaire and Dick had compared him to Damian.

“What a coincidence.” Bruce smiled at him and Dick couldn’t help but return it. His smile was infectious. Bruce still had a hold on Dick’s hand but instead of releasing it, he intertwined their fingers. “Alfred, would you mind finding a substitute for his post?”

“It’s actually the least I can do, sir.” Alfred nodded and gave a kind smile to Dick who felt as though he had just been knocked over. He wasn’t about to start complaining though.s Not with a gorgeous dance partner in Bruce Wayne and a sizable paycheck for only a few hours at the bar.

--------

Dick automatically froze when he awoke in a strange room. It took a few seconds for him to realize that he was in Bruce Wayne’s bed and mansion. In fact, he was draped over Bruce Wayne’s bare chest. He hadn’t let himself sleep with anyone. Not since Roy. And yet he had fallen into bed with one of Gotham’s most eligible bachelors. Just his luck that he let himself fall prey to a pretty face. 

An extremely pretty face. 

Selina was going to kill him.

Bruce’s eyes were closed but something about his chest movements told Dick that he was awake so he took the chance. “I had a really nice time.” He murmured and pressed a warm kiss to the firm chest below him. He sighed, not wanting to get up at all. The bed was comfortable, Bruce even more so.

Eyes still closed, Bruce smiled and brought his hand up to run through Dick’s hair. He leaned his head into the touch and sighed. Jason was never going to let him hear the end of this one.

“Can you stay the morning?” Bruce asked, cracking open one eye and hungrily eyeing Dick’s body.

Why the hell not, Dick thought. It was his day off of the local convenience store which meant he only had to go and clean the gym starting at five. A bit more sex and a delicious meal. Holly had already promised to steal leftovers and drop them off at the house. “Yea, yes, I can.” 

Dick lifted his head and smiled but to his surprise, Bruce frowned. He reached out his hand to cup Dick’s cheek and used his thumb to wipe off some of the remaining concealer.

“You have a terrible bruise…” He let his sentence trail off.

“Ah, well, mugging.” Dick attempted to shrug while still lying down. “It doesn’t hurt much but Ms. Kyle covered it for me before the party.”

“Selina is considerate like that.” Bruce said dryly. Dick didn’t even want to know what that meant.

The frown stayed on Bruce’s face as he wondered why two people had needed to lie to him about muggings in the past 24 hours. Still, it was Dick’s secret to keep. Alfred had pulled Bruce aside after the party and told him about how Dick had helped him while on his way to the charity function. If Bruce hadn’t known any better, he would even say that he had gotten Alfred’s approval to dance with Dick. If the younger man had troubles, he certainly didn’t let them affect his disposition, his gorgeous smile, or his sharp wit the previous night when a particularly drunk city councilman had made a few lewd comments towards another guest.

Dick stretched up to kiss the frown off of Bruce. The older man rolled them both over to lay on top of Dick, enjoying the sun that was streaming through his expansive bedroom. For once, Gotham had given him a sunny morning.

--------

He stared down at the cell phone that Dick had tossed on the bed after searching for it in his discarded (and borrowed) suit pants. It was an older model that had to have been released at least four or five years prior. It was also buzzing and lighting up.

Bruce leaned over and caught a glimpse of Dick’s bare ass in his enormous master bathroom. “Your phone buzzed. I didn’t mean to look at it. It was-“

“Nah, it’s okay. It’s just going to be one of my brothers. What does it say?” Dick waved him away. There was nothing sensitive on the phone and the boys usually kept the text messages short.

“It sounds urgent.”

Dick stuck his head through the bathroom doorway. “What do you mean?” He asked, confused, a nervous pit growing in his stomach.

Bruce picked up the phone and read: “Little D had a nightmare. Tim’s letters are in the mail. Come home.”

Dick fumbled with putting on his pants, nearly knocking himself into the bathroom wall. “Shit.”

“Letters? Do you mind-“ Bruce had lifted himself off the bed and came to lean against the bathroom doorway.

“His college acceptance letters.” Dick explained, trying to focus on the art of dressing himself. “I’ve got three younger brothers and if Jason’s up and already got the mail, it means that Tim’s with little D.” He murmured aloud, more for himself than Bruce.

“You all sound very close.” Bruce commented and brushed Dick’s hands away in order to button his shirt. The chore of an act somehow became so intimate that Dick felt his face heat the tiniest bit. It was an unnecessary gesture from a man who probably slept with waitstaff every time he had a ball, Dick thought.

“We’re all each other has.” He said quietly, thinking that the rumble must have trigged Damian’s dreams. Dick could picture the college letters spread out on their wobbling kitchen table with Jason’s hands supportively placed on Tim’s shoulders. He looked up at Bruce. “I had a really nice time last night. Please believe me when I say that I wanted to spend the morning here.” He pressed a firm hand to Bruce’s cheek and gave him a chaste kiss. 

Before he could completely pull away, Bruce asked quietly, “Can I see you again?”

Gotham’s exclusive bachelor, Dick thought to himself, trying not to take the question for more than it was, a polite but meaningless offer. “I’d like that.” Is what he decided on, wanting to remember the morning as perfect.

——————————————

The house was the quietest that Dick could ever remember it as he walked through the back door and into the kitchen. His bowtie was undone around his neck and he just rolled his eyes at Jason’s accusatory look.

“You won’t be able to slip that past Tim or Damian. They think you just got in late and are still asleep. Go to your room and get changed.” His younger brother commanded, using his mixing spoon to point in the direction of the first floor bedroom. 

Dick moved to obey but not before sneaking up and sticking his finger in the mixing bowl to taste whatever Jason was stirring. 

It tasted like blueberries. Of course. Jason was baking for Tim in anticipation of whatever the letters held.

Before he shut his door, Dick caught a glance of them. The thick, heavy envelopes were laid out on their kitchen table. 

Were they supposed to be that daunting?

Dick had never gotten his chance to apply to the police academy like he wanted to so he could only guess the stress that Tim was going through every day.

He hurried to get changed but Tim and Damian were still no where to be found when he came out of his room, freshly showered. 

“I checked on them.” Jason answered Dick’s unspoken question. “Apparently, in getting Damian to fall back to sleep for a little bit, Tim conked out too.” He slid a tray into the oven and shut the door before following Dick into the next room.

“You didn’t tell him about the letters?”

“He had already dragged Damian upstairs by the time the mail came.” Jason shrugged. “One crisis at a time.”

Jason rubbed his hand over the worn stairway bannister as Dick paced around their front room. Dick had taught them all how to flip it over it at one point and the evidence was seen in the lack of paint along the eroded section.

When it became obvious that Dick wasn’t going to start the conversation, Jason took the lead. 

“I got an interesting text from Holly last night. Said you were cozying up to one of Gotham’s richest.”

Dick closed his eyes and let out a soft laugh. “God, I should have known that’s why you were being so calm. I can’t believe she texted you.”

“You shouldn’t be that surprised. It’s Holly.”

“Did she tell Selina?”

“What makes you think Selina didn’t already know? She knows everything.”

“Well, if she hasn’t called to chew me out over it, I’m guessing that I’m safe?” Dick looked up, hopefully, but Jason only shrugged. 

“I haven’t heard from Selina. She’s probably proud of you. I just can’t believe you actually slept with him. You slept with billionaire Bruce Wayne.” Jason’s smirk was not appreciated. His tone, at least, was joking, which was better than Dick had expected.

However, he still immediately rose to defend himself- and Bruce. “He was nice.”

“Sure he was.”

“Jason…” Dick said reproachfullyy

“Right, sorry.” Jason held up his hands in surrender. “He was nice?”

“Said he wanted to see me again.” Dick gave a half-hearted laugh.

“Well, of course he does. Who wouldn’t want to see you again?” Jason’s smile was strained and Dick knew that they were both thinking the same thing: their reality stomped out fairy tales rather quickly. Dick had a great body but he was no Cinderella. 

Shuffling noises from upstairs had Dick looking over to Jason and miming that he should keep his mouth shut. He wasn’t sure if it would be effective, usually Jason couldn’t help but tell Tim most things and if Tim suspected something, he would figure it out, but Dick was willing to try anyway.

Tim carefully came down the stairs, Damian clinging to his back as though he was much younger than twelve years old. Damian was awake but Dick could see in his eyes, the remnants of whatever nightmare had woken him up that morning. He felt a pang of guilt for not being there but Jason’s elbow in his side was a message not to sweat it.

Upon noticing Dick, Tim let loose a mischievous smile that let Dick immediately know that Tim already knew some, if not all, of the story regarding his whereabouts the previous night. But luckily, Tim was distracted by the smells wafting in from the kitchen.

“Something smells good. Are you baking?” Tim bounced Damian up and down on his back. “Feel like some sweets, little D?” 

“-Tt-“ was the only response and it had all three brothers rolling their eyes.

“Yep. Blueberry scones.” Jason told him, far too casually.

“Really?” Tim immediately looked suspicious. They never usually had the ingredients were sweet food and Jason cooked for them on a budget. “What’s the occasion?”

“Could have seen that one coming.” Dick grumbled and took a deep breath. “Tim, maybe you should go into the kitchen. There’s some mail on the table for you.”

Tim’s eyes went wide and his arms went slack, causing Damian to start to slide down his back. Dick stepped and grabbed him before he hit the floor. Damian didn’t even mutter that he didn’t need help, he was holding his breath, too focused on Tim.

They all kept behind Tim as he raced to the kitchen, holding onto the top of one of the kitchen chairs as he stared at the four letters. 

He stared at those letters for a full minute before Jason stepped up and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“They’re not going to open up themselves, babybird.” He whispered gently.

Tim took a deep breath, nodded, and then took another deep breath. “Okay. Okay.” He moved out of Jason’s hold and picked up the first letter.

It didn’t take him long to tug open the top of the letters and have four folders with the word ‘Acceptance packet’ blazed across the front of each. 

One obstacle down, one more to go, Dick thought privately as a smile spread across his face. He wasn’t about to say it aloud. The scholarship packets were what the family was really waiting for.

Tim was beaming proudly at Jason, who didn’t bother hiding his wide grin. Damian had rushed forward first, hugging Tim tightly around the middle. Dick couldn’t help him and he picked up Tim and Damian and swung them around, hugging them tightly. Jason joined the hug as soon as Dick let the youngest back on the floor. 

The oven beeped and Jason reluctantly left the group hug, tugging Damian along with him to taste-test the blueberry scones. Tim’s arms remained around Dick’s waist, holding on for dear life. 

“Thank you.” Tim whispered. 

“I didn’t do anything.” Dick told him, confused but Tim refused to look at him. Instead, he smushed his face into Dick’s chest and mumbled.

“You did everything. Without you, I wouldn’t be here, doing this. Thank you.”

Dick felt his face get warm. He smiled and smoothed down Tim’s hair, holding onto his little brother for as long as he needed it.

———

Bruce toyed with his cell phone and wondered if it was too early to call Dick. 

Alfred had loved him. Selina apparently liked him, if her wink on her way out the door last night was anything to go. Bruce had definitely appreciated the young man. He was playful, had a good heart, according to Alfred, and was dedicated to his family. 

Before he could talk himself out of it, Bruce made the call. 

And reached Dick’s voicemail. 

Of course. Dick was dealing with his family and then probably had another job. He wasn’t about to let it worry him. 

In fact, he didn’t have the time for it. After he had ended the call, Talia strode into his study.

Instead of her usual confident face that had Bruce tripping over himself in the previous years, she seemed confused and suspicious. 

“Where is he?” She asked without preamble and looking at him expectantly.

“Who are you talking about?”

“You can be stupid, Bruce, but not this much.”

“Excuse  me?” He geared up to defend himself but was cut off by her explanation.

“Five years ago, I sent our son to Gotham. He was seven years old and had a letter explaining the circumstances of his arrival. Where. Is. Damian?”

“Our son?” Bruce could hear the blood rushing in his ears. He staggered backwards and leaned again the desk. “Talia, there’s no son here. There’s no Damian.”

“There’s no Damian Wayne?”

Bruce was already at his phone and typed in the direct line for Commissioner Gordon of the Gotham Police.

“Commissioner? Bruce Wayne here. I’ve just been informed of a missing person’s case…five years…yes, five years, I’ve only just found out…my…my son, Commissioner…yes, I understand. Thank you.” Bruce put the phone back down on the receiver and tried to control his breathing. 

Was his son still alive? Why the hell Talia would send him by himself to such a city as Gotham. Where was Damian? And why would she have waited seven years in the first place before attempting to send him to Bruce? Or even tell Bruce about him? 

Talia, though, she looked wrecked. Bruce tried to put aside his anger and focus on the matter at hand.

“I’ll handle Gotham. You handle anyone from your end who knew he was coming  here.”

“Five years.”

“That doesn’t matter. We’ll find him.” Bruce purposely doesn’t say Find what happened to him. That wouldn’t be acceptable. They would find his son alive and well.

———

Commissioner Gordon expected the city-wide manhunt for Bruce Wayne’s missing son. Fortunately, that wasn’t necessary. Even as they put in the order to start checking all undocumented minors in some of the seedier neighborhoods, one of the detectives came up to his desk.

“We found him, sir. At least. We think we did.”

“How did you find a twelve year old that we have no photographs of?

“There’s a Damian Wayne listed in Gotham. He’s listed as twelve years old too.”

Gordon looked at the paperwork and then back at the detective, who looked to be as confused as he was.

“What the hell is going on here?”

“Sir, the house he’s listed at is registered to Tony Zucco.”

“The mob boss? I thought Tony Zucco was dead.”

“Missing, presumed dead. He disappeared after committing a double homicide at a traveling city that had been stationed in the city.”

“Then who the hell is living in that house?”

Before they could  speculate, Bruce Wayne himself appeared at the door, looking more stoic than the Commissioner had ever seen him. They had worked together previously for charities and departments and Bruce Wayne was one of the most charming man in Gotham, when he wanted to be. But Gordon had also seen him taking control of his company and standing up for the rights of Gotham’s citizens in the face of budget cuts and federal laws. Bruce Wayne was not a man to be trifled with. 

“You have a lead.” It wasn’t phrased as a question and Gordon knew what was coming next. 

“No, Bruce. Mr. Wayne, you cannot come with us. It’s going to be dangerous.” Even as the words were coming out of his mouth, Commissioner Gordon knew that any attempt at reasoning was pointless. 

“Try and stop me, Gordon.” Bruce’s eyes flashed and he glared at the two man, daring them to argue with him.

He couldn’t blame the man. Wayne had become a father that day and was already fighting tooth & nail to find his child. Thinking of his own daughter, no, Gordon couldn’t blame him for that at all. 

———

“We have officers in civilian clothing already surrounding the house.” 

“Civilian clothing?”

Bruce Wayne was in the passenger seat of an unmarked police car, heading through one of Gotham’s poorest neighborhoods. The detective in the driver’s seat had been given orders to try to keep the billionaire in the car at all costs. Not that anyone believed that they would actually be able to make that a reality. 

“Yes, sir. If Tony Zucco is still in that house, there’s no question that he’ll have alarms and cameras in place waiting for a raid like this. Civilian clothing and unmarked cars are the little we can do to in order to catch him offguard.”

———

Dick figured he only had an hour before he had to change out of his obnoxious work clothes. The old, oversized sweater was always a target for teasing from his brothers. 

But…

Taking a look inside one of their kitchen pantries, Dick pulled out a box of cereal. Getting changed could wait, he had had a relatively easy night shift and he deserved a reward. 

Cereal first. Then he’d head upstairs to make sure Tim and Damian hadn’t gotten into a fist fight instead of doing their homework. He also needed to text Jason to pick up more milk but he was pretty sure that Tim had the other phone. Tim usually had the other phone when Jason was in possession of the other one.

His brothers and food were what was on Dick’s mind as the front and back doors of the house were kicked down simultaneously.

“POLICE! EVERYBODY DOWN!”

“Police?” Dick’s spoon clattered to the floor as he was pulled out of his seat, only to be pushed down to the floor. The kitchen was full of people shouting and brandishing weapons. They immediately flooded the house, going through to Dick’s room and up the stairs to the second floor. 

Dick was about to shout out for Tim and Damian when he was distracted by a figure who had just strode through the door. He wasn’t holding a weapon and he didn’t have a badge hung around his neck but Bruce Wayne was still an intimidating sight.

———

Of course he hadn’t stayed in the escort car. He was Bruce Wayne and the last trace of his son led to the this run-down, two-story house in Gotham’s worst neighborhood. That didn’t mean he didn’t fear the wrath of the Commissioner. However, Gordon had gone through the front of the house. 

Bruce walked carefully through now the open backdoor and into a kitchen, that, for its shabbiness, seemed relatively clean. Not that the cops swarming the house were taking care to keep things in order. 

Three officers were needed to hold down the man on the kitchen door. Bruce went to take a step forward when the young man twisted his head.

“Dick? What?”

Bruce’s mind raced as he quickly went through the morning with Dick in his head. 

Dick wouldn’t have left his phone out and talked so cavalierly about his brothers if he had been trying to hide. He also wouldn’t have let Damian keep his last name. Damian Wayne. 

It didn’t make sense. He took a step backwards, confused and avoiding the questioning looks coming from a few of the officers. 

“Bruce? What the-“ Dick stopped struggling and stared at Bruce. The emotions on his face cycled from confused to betrayed. 

They stared at each other for a few seconds and it hit Bruce like a ton of bricks. Whatever was happening, whatever was going on with Bruce’s son- Dick had no idea.

A large crash came from the second floor, Dick’s eyes widened even further, dragging his gaze away from Bruce.

An officer shouted down from the second floor: “Officer down! Repeat- officer down! The two suspects jumped out the window!”

At that, Dick tore out of the cops’ hold and made a break for the stairs.

“TIM? DAMI-“ before he could finish yelling for his brothers, a nightstick forcefully collided with his head, dropping him to the ground. 

——————————————

“Tim…Damian….J…” Dick fought against the grogginess that had overtaken him but it was slow work. His head was pounding and strangers’ hands were holding him down against a soft surface. It took him too long to realize that it was the couch. He was on the couch that Damian usually slept on.

“Don’t fight it, son. It’ll just make your head hurt worse.” The voice next to him was gentle but firm. 

“Brothers…” Dick managed to get out.

There was a chuckle before a different voice responded. “We’re looking for your brothers, don’t you worry about that.”

Dick managed to bring up his hand to rub at the pressure between his eyes. “What happened?”

“Why don’t you tell us what happened?”

Dick couldn’t tell if a pair of hands were helping him sit up or holding him in place. Both. Maybe it was both. It took more than a few blinks for the room in front of Dick to swim into focus. 

He was surrounded by cops. 

Well, maybe not surrounded as he was when he had been knocked out, but there were at least three officers, two detectives, and of course, Bruce Wayne.

Before Dick got a chance to question their presence, one of the detectives stepped in front of him, obscuring his view and blocking him out from everyone else in the room.

“Dick Wayne, your brother is Damian Wayne, correct?”

Leaning his head against the back of the couch, Dick let out a soft moan. “Oh god, what did he do now?” Getting called in for parent-teacher conferences was bad enough but Dick never really thought Damian would do something that had the cops raid their house. If anything, Dick would have thought that it’d been Jason’s doing.

The detective looked confused and Dick wasn’t quite sure why. “He…he didn’t do anything. The other one though, the older one, he punched a cop before Damian tugged him over to jump out the window.”

Dick shot forward immediately, the haste causing his head to spin but he still managed to shout: “Tim punched a cop? They both jumped out the window?”

“Yes, sir. We’re currently looking for them and patrolling the nearby streets.” Dick wanted that to be a comfort but it really wasn’t.

“But why were you here in the first place? You…before-You called them suspects! What did they do?” Dick asked desperately. He was missing a large piece of information that everyone was refusing to give up to him. He put his head in his hands and rubbed at his closed eyes. He wished someone would let him get up and find some painkillers.

One of the officers knelt down and placed his hand on the couch cushion next to Dick. He wasn’t blocking Dick in but he wasn’t letting him get away either. Patiently, he waited until Dick had taken a few deep breaths and met his eyes before talking. His non-threatening smile almost had Dick’s heart calming down. “You look familiar, son.”

Dick took a few seconds to look closely at the kind cop. “You’re Commissioner Gordon.”

“I am.” The commissioner remained quiet, waiting for Dick to continue.

“I know. Uh. Barbara. Barbara Gordon? She was in school with me.” Dick offered. She had been a nice girl and her dad had come around most days to pick up her.

“Right, that’s where I know you from.” Commissioner Gordon nodded, satisfied. “I’m going to make a quick phone call. Rogers over there,” Gordon thumbed at one of the officers, “is an EMT and he’s going to check your head and make sure you’re not concussed. Then, when I come back we’re going to talk. I’m going to do some explaining and so are you.” With that, Gordon stepped through into the kitchen, dialing as he went.

Dick didn’t bother arguing with the man, not even asking what exactly he was supposed to explain. He just straightened up on the couch and let the officer approach him, hesitantly taking the offered bottle of water.

-----------

Bruce kept his distance from the situation but shifted himself against the kitchen door so he could lean and watch Dick while hearing some of the Commissioner’s phonecall. Gordon gave him an annoyed look but didn’t try to stop him.

“Barbara, honey?”

“Dad? It’s late. Is everything okay?”

“I just need some information. Do you remember a boy named Dick Wayne?”

“Well, sure, we were in high school together.”

“Any idea how many brothers he had?”

“I think three. All younger. Though, last I heard, one of them got into trouble with Roy Harper.”

“Roy Harper? Oliver Queen’s troublemaker?”

“That’s the one. Is everything okay? Is Dick okay?”

“I’m…not sure yet. Can you look into it for me?”

“Sure. I’ll put in a call.”

“Thanks, sweetheart, I’ll see you next week.”

Gordon ended the call and looked up at Bruce. “Confirmed. That young man out there, Dick Wayne, has three younger brothers that everyone appears to have known about.”

“So they weren’t hiding. Perhaps it’s a misunderstanding?” Bruce suggested half-heartedly. He knew that it wasn’t a strong possibility. 

Gordon nodded towards the other room, to single framed photograph on the wall. “Did you get a look at that photograph when you came through?” Bruce shook his head. “The youngest one? He matches the photos given to you by your ex-partner. I’ll eat my hat if that isn’t your kid. We’ll have the clinic run a blood test either way but we’re going to have to look into their records. There’s no way he should have custody of all those kids.”

“They’re all under eighteen?”

“The youngest two definitely are. I can’t tell with the third one. He might be legal.”

Bruce followed Gordon back out into the main room where Dick looked uncomfortable and confused. The remaining members of the police force were staring at the young man while he just sat at the couch, taking deep breaths. It was an unpleasant scene that Gordon took care to dissipate right away. 

“You have younger brothers, Dick. You’re their legal guardian.” He said in a calm, controlled voice.

Dick looked up and cautiously confirmed the statements. “Yes? Everyone knows that I have younger brothers…”

“No one knew that your youngest brother was my son.” Bruce said quietly before Gordon could stop him.

Dick’s eyes widened, breath caught in his throat. “Wh-what? Damian?”

Gordon glared at Bruce but repeated the the man’s answer. “No one knew that your Damian Wayne is Bruce Wayne’s missing son.

“Neither did I! Are you…” Dick paused a second, his breathing was becoming erratic again. “Are you sure?”

“Very sure, Dick. Can you tell us about when Damian first came to stay with you and your brothers?”

“But…that was over three years ago.” Dick reasoned, desperately. “He’s been here for three years.”

“Mr Wayne only found out he had a son this afternoon. He immediately contacted the police and we began a search. Your Damian Wayne has a matching age, name, and physical description.”

-----------

“…What?” Dick asked weakly. His knuckles were white from tension as his fingers intertwined. All the blood had drained from his face and he looked as though he was about to faint. Everything felt wrong and Dick was about to vomit. “But…we filed a report and everything. I’m sure it’s still on record. We…we didn’t know.” 

Gordon made a notation of that on his pad of paper, as a reminder to call in so the department could locate the report, if it existed. 

Bruce wordlessly held out the photograph of Damian at eight years old that Talia had given him just a few hours prior. “I was given this photograph this afternoon.” He stressed the word ‘afternoon’ but Dick could only focus on one thing at a time.

“God…” Dick whispered. “That’s Damian.” He didn’t make eye contact with Bruce, just kept his eyes trained on the photograph until Bruce placed it back in his pocket.

Gordon looked at Dick, watching his facial features carefully. “Why is this house registered to a Gotham mob boss who’s been dead for the past fifteen years?”

“A what?” Dick’s facial expression remained confused but then a visible wave of realization swept over him. “Oh god…That’s what he meant.”

“Dick?” Gordon asked, calmly, not flinching when Dick grabbed hold of his hand.

“How many years?” Dick asked weakly, needing the clarification.

“What?”

“How many years has the mob boss been dead?” Dick choked out.

“Fifteen.”

“What was his name?”

“His name was Tony Zucco.”

-----------

Dick’s erratic breathing had Gordon debating calling the EMT back over. “He’s the one who…god, he’s the one who killed my parents. And we’ve been living in his house.” 

Gordon placed a hand on Dick’s back and shot a quick look towards the two detectives, making sure they were making note of what Dick was saying. “How did you come to live in this house?” 

Dick answered obediently but didn’t look any of them in the eye. He seemed dazed and Gordon wouldn’t have put it past him to faint. “I left the circus when I was nine. An old man, a barker from Haly’s told me not to worry about the house. That it was ours.”

“And your brothers?”

“Jason, Tim, and Damian.” Dick recited quietly.

“You and your brothers just happened to live in a mob boss’ house in this part of Gotham?” The comment came from the other side of the room. Dick wasn’t sure what cop had spoken.

He slowly drew back from Gordon’s comforting hand on his knee. “What?” Dick asked breathlessly.

“Sir,” The officer stepped forward and addressed Gordon. “We’re getting a tall tale here. There’s no need for us to sit through this. We should be out looking for the poor kid. You can’t trust anyone from this part of town.”

-----------

Dick looked as though he had been slapped. His breath caught in his throat and he looked down, embarrassed. The color that had rushed back to his face was only due to embarrassment. He didn’t want to look up, knowing that his hurt expression would be easily readable.

“Smith, that’s enough out of you. Get back to your squad car. Rogers, go with him. In fact, all of you- out. Pull all the records for anyone connected with this house. Make sure to pull the public school files too.”

Dick felt a rush of dizziness come over him and leaned back on the couch. His only relief came in knowing that the cops were leaving. He still couldn’t move. He couldn’t articulate his genuine terror in knowing that the majority of whatever files the officers would find could be recognized instantly as fakes.

“I…apologize for them, Dick. But please, I need to know. How did Damian come to be in your family?”

“We…we found him. That’s all. That’s how it happened. Well, Tim found him about-“

“Three years ago?”

“Yeah…three years ago.”

“Keep going, Dick. Tell us what happened.”

“There’s not much to tell, honestly.” Dick shrugged, defeatedly. “Tim brought him home, he looked like he had been in an accident but he couldn’t remember anything. He was…” Dick thought for a moment. “Violent, and almost vicious. He knew that his name was definitely Damian but that’s it. Jason still calls him Demon sometimes.”

Bruce and Gordon exchanged worried glances and Dick jumped to defend his brother. “He’s a good kid, I swear. He’s just…passionate sometimes.”

Gordon was distracted from his next question as one of the detectives walked back through Dick’s door without even knocking. Dick took the little break he was given and used it to panic. He was frantic.

Tim and Damian were gone and the cops were about the realize that Dick wasn’t their legal guardian, no matter what the obviously fake papers said. Eventually, they were also going to realize that Jason was the same Jason that had been declared dead three years prior.. Most of their paperwork was fake. His last name wasn’t even Wayne. Bruce Wayne was going to take away Damian from them but even he seemed unhappy and confused about the situation.

“Dick, son, look at me. Your story checks out.”

“What?” Dick blinked, not comprehending what he was hearing.

“The station says that they do have a report of a Dick Wayne filing a report for a nine year old Damian as a missing child.”

“What about…But…Zucco? The house?” As much as Dick didn’t want them to look into his own records, he had to know about their home and the barker.

“Dick, tell us again about the house.” Gordon sounded exasperated and confused. He could join the damn club. Dick wouldn’t have been surprised if the commissioner was losing patience. Only Bruce still had a pensive look on his face, not saying a word.

“The barker from the circus took me away. He said I was in danger. That they had gotten my parents and were after me next. I’ve lived in this house ever since that night.”

Gordon sat back on his heels and gave Dick a once-over. “You were the Grayson boy that disappeared all those years ago?”

Dick didn’t answer but asked another question. “You think the barker murdered Zucco and just squatted here? That’s how we’re living in this house?” His voice was short of hysterics but still managed to keep a leveled tone.

“What about your younger brothers?” The commissioner looked at Dick with a serious face and lowered his voice. “Is anyone in this house actually a Wayne?”

“He is?” Dick tilted his head towards Bruce, confused by the question.

“So is Damian.” Bruce said, with all seriousness.

-----------

“Right.” Dick looked as though he had just been sucker-punched and Bruce immediately felt guilty. It wasn’t as though Dick had stolen Damian away from him. He hadn’t known. The report had been filed.

He had clearly been taking good care of Damian, and the rest of his brothers. Especially if his response the nightmare text message that morning was any indicator. 

Gordon excused himself outside, presumably to make more phone calls or, Bruce privately hoped, to chastise his officers for their inappropriate comments towards Dick. 

The young man hadn’t seen to notice the commissioner was gone. He was so different from the man with whom Bruce had spent the previous evening. The second Gordon left the room, Dick began talking again but Bruce couldn’t catch all of the words. He had a feeling that they weren’t all for him anyway.

“Jason needed help. So did Tim and Damian. I wasn’t just going to leave them on the streets. Jason was half-starved. Damian wouldn’t have lasted two seconds in the orphanage; he had a temper like you wouldn’t imagine. God, he still has it sometimes. Tim almost died. They’re my brothers. Please don’t. Don’t punish them for that. If anything, blame me. I’ll take the fall for all of them. They’ve…They’ve been doing well. Really well. Tim got accepted to- oh god.” Dick stopped and a look of horror came over his face that caused Bruce’s stomach to lurch. “Oh god. Tim is going to be charged with assaulting a cop. Tim punched a cop. That’s. Shit. He only just got into his colleges. That’s going to to-“

“I’ll take care of it.” Bruce told him suddenly. Dick looked at him in disbelief but Bruce continued. “The police won’t press charges against Tim. I’ll make sure everyone’s paperwork reads exactly how you want it to read. I’m…I’m sorry. They won’t take Tim or Jason away from you.” He paused and Bruce’s own look of confusion came over his face. “Wait. Your Tim is listed as sixteen but applying for colleges?”

“What does that have anything to do with this?” Dick was immediately on the defensive. He was already willing to fight for his little brother’s chance at a higher education.

“Does he work at one of my laboratories?” Bruce tried to smooth over his tone into a gentle question. It seemed to work because Dick deflated and settled back into a bewildered look.

“He…he does…how did you…”

“I’ll admit I don’t know all my employees but I met him. I was being, well, subtly introduced to some of our scholarship candidates. Let me assure you that Tim is set. My scientists are insistent that we sponsor him through college. They’re all very impressed with him.”

Dick, for the first time since Bruce had seen him that morning, smiled. “Tim is going to college.”

“I promise you, Tim is going to college.”

There were a few moments of silence as Bruce let that sink in. The obvious relief on Dick’s face showed how much more important his brothers’ lives were compared to his own. However, Bruce broke the silence easily enough, not able to help himself. 

“You weren’t mugged, were you?” He asked.

Dick huffed a sigh. “No, there was a rumble.”

“Was Damian involved?” Bruce asked, a combination of worried and angry. He had seen the black eye on Tim and didn’t even want to imagine if Damian had a matching one. 

“Couldn’t have kept him home even if we tried.” Dick admitted. “Though, believe it or not, he’s the only one that didn’t come out of it with any bruises. That kid fights hard.” Bruce wasn’t sure what to make of Dick’s proud tone when describing his younger brother, Bruce’s son. “He’s strong-willed, smart, and protective of everyone he loves.” Dick said quietly. “He’s come a long way from the kid that tried to bite me for hugging him.”

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

Dick once told Tim and Damian that, in another life, he could see them being mortal enemies. He said that fiercely loving the same family didn’t always cause two people to become as tightly-knit as the two of them. It was a stroke of luck, he said fondly to them, that both of you work together instead of against one another. Out of all the brothers, they were still the two that fought explosively with dirty tactics, constantly trying to outdo each other. But when they got along, Dick regularly found himself having to apologize to a neighbor or charm his way out of a parent-teacher conference.

Damian wouldn’t have it any other way. He doesn’t want to look about what would have happened if it hadn’t been Tim that had found him, amnesiac, on the side of the road after a supposed accident one night. Whatever life he had before being found by them was gone, as far as he knew. There wasn’t a real life without Dick teaching him clever gymnastics moves, Jason letting him sit on the counter to taste-test dinner, and Tim reading him stories from battered junior high history textbooks.

When Damian woke up from his first, violent nightmare, it was Dick who went to pick up extra shifts for an appointment at the clinic, it was Jason who fed him homemade soup, and it was Tim who stayed with him, a constant voice, telling him tales of ancient civilizations, both real and fictional. 

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

Damian sat quietly, curled up next to Tim as his older brother sighed for the the tenth time the twenty minutes.

“Dick is probably worried sick.” Damian told him, very matter-of-fact.

“Jason is probably about to tear apart the city.”

Damian nodded at that. That scenario had a high probability as well. Tim’s arm tightened around his waist and Damian allowed his voice to reveal some of its shakiness. “Why were those men in our house?”

“I think they were cops.”

“So they were looking for Jason?”

Tim sighed again. “That’s definitely a possibility. But…”

“But what?”

“I don’t know. They could have been looking for any of us.” Tim admitted quietly.

“I wish Dick and Jason were with us.” Damian said, his strong, forceful tone muffled by the fact that he had pushed his face into Tim’s shoulder crook and spoken into his hoodie.

“Me too, Dami. Me too.”

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

Dick and Bruce had only been in silence for a few moments when the kitchen door slammed and Jason’s voice carried through the open doorway.

“Guess who called and left a message on one of the phones!” He called from the kitchen. There was more slamming and Dick could picture his brother going through the cabinets, looking for a late dinner to have after his shift.

Bruce tensed and Dick gave him a confused look before he realized what Jason was talking about. Jason had taken the phone that Dick had used the previous night. But Bruce hadn’t called Dick, right? That had just been a polite inquiry as Dick had left the manor. 

Or maybe not.

“I thought you were lying when you said he was nice but damn, it was a polite-as-fuck message. Hell, I believed it. I owe you an apolog-“ Jason strode out into the front room at the same time that Commissioner Gordon came in through the front door. 

Jason’s grip on his sandwich loosened and it dropped to the fall. The time he took his swallow the food still in his mouth also gave him time to look over the room, staring at both the Commissioner and Bruce before his gaze ended up on Dick, who was still sitting on the couch holding his head.

Making it clear that he was only addressing his brother, Jason turned to face him.

“Dick…what the fuck is going on here?”

Dick wasn’t even sure where to start but the fact that one of his brothers was back in the house relaxed him just slightly. At least he was no longer outnumbered. “You didn’t notice the cops outside?”

“There…” Jason’s eyes flickered back up to the Commissioner. “There weren’t any cops out back.”

“I’ve sent most of them back. There are a few doing patrols out searching but only myself and a detective outside are left.” Commissioner Gordon told them both, very matter-of-fact. “And you are, son?” He asked Jason, his tone was polite but still demanding of an answer.

“I’m Jason…” He was going to go on but stopped himself. “Just Jason.” He turned back to his brother. “Dick, what’s happening?”

Dick sighed and just let it out: “Damian is Bruce Wayne’s son, Tim punched a cop, they’re looking into all our records, and house legally belongs to a mob boss.”

Jason’s eyes widened and in an instant, he was sitting next to Dick on the couch. Bruce quickly got out of their way, taking a few steps back to stand next to the Commissioner. 

“Okay. Okay. One thing at a time.” Jason urged Dick.

“The cops came in because Damian was registered as living in the house of a crime boss. The crime boss that killed my parents.”

“Jesus Christ…”

“The cops came in and I don’t know.” Dick shook his head, trying to clear it and remember what had happened before he became unconscious.“I was knocked out and apparently, Tim and Damian got spooked and Tim punched a cop.”

Jason raised an eyebrow and looked over at the Commission for a split second. “Tim punched a cop? Are you sure that it wasn’t Damian?”

Dick huffed. The exact same thought had gone through his mind. “They’re saying it was definitely Tim. They’re also saying that they both jumped out the window after that.”

Jason rubbed his hand over the front of his face and Dick barely heard a muffled: “Of course they did, the brats.” He took a deep breath. “Either way, they had a right to defend to themselves.” Jason glared at Bruce, who met the accusing look with wide eyes. Jason turned back to Dick. “And you got knocked out?”

“I was trying to get to them.”

Jason smirked at that. Dick trying to get to his brothers, with no regard to how it would affect him, was no surprise. “Well, of course you were. And Damian?”

“Damian is Bruce Wayne’s son.”

Jason’s glare met Bruce again and he asked quietly. “Can you prove that?”

“I have all his paperwork.” Bruce said stiffly. “And his mother passed along photographs of him, from when he was younger.” Bruce took only a few steps forward, choosing instead to reach his arm out and hand one of the photographs to Jason.

“Shit…” Jason swore under his breath. “That’s…a very tiny Damian. This mother of his is the reason that my brother is on the couch with a concussion? Where was she when her son,” Jason gestured to the photo in his hand” was lying on the side of the road with no memory of who he was?” He asked angrily.

Bruce didn’t address the scenario but still attempted to explain himself. “I wasn’t aware that he existed. She didn’t tell me until this afternoon.”

“And now you’re going to take him away?”

Standing up a little straighter, Bruce said with a quiet steel. “He’s my son.” 

Dick didn’t want to think about that. He gripped Jason’s other hand tightly. “Jason, they’re looking into our records. The school records, and everyone connected with the house.”

Jason visibly swallowed but just minutely shook his head at Dick. It was noticeable anyway. The police would find out sooner or later. “Where are Tim and Damian?”

“I don’t know. The cops are apparently still looking for them.”

“Let’s make sure they’re okay first.” Jason stole a look at Dick. “Actually, you stay here with your head. I’ll find them and make sure that they’re okay. Do they have the other phone?”

Just like that, Dick and Jason were in their own world, focused solely on their family, ignoring the rest of the people in their house.

“I’m…I’m not sure.”

“And the cops haven’t seen them around this neighborhood?”

“No…not yet. Why?”

“Because if they know the cops were here, they wouldn’t have stayed in this neighborhood.”

“Where would they have gone?”

Jason looked at Dick who shrugged. “I’ll make a few calls. But I have a hunch.”  

-----------

“Todd. I was wondering why it took you so long to call.”

“I only just got off my shift, Hawke. I come in and my house is filled with cops and Dick got knocked out.”

“The men in your house were cops? Is Richard okay?”

“He’s…he’ll be fine. They’re there though, right? They’re okay?”

“They’re fine. Just…a little shaken up. What is going on over there? Did you-“

“I know this is going to shock you, but it wasn’t me this time.”

“Excuse me if I find that…a little hard to believe.”

“You’re not the only one. Are they-“

“They’re both here. They’re unscathed from their jump out the window.”

“Oh, thank god. Thank fucking god. Dick, they’re fine. They’re safe.”

“Why were the police there?”

“I…I can’t tell you that. But I will tell Tim and Damian. Put them on the phone, please.”

“Tim, I’ll be upstairs when you’re done, okay?”

“Jay? What’s wrong? What happened? Is Dick okay? Are you-“

“I’m fine, babybird. We’re both fine. Are you and Damian okay?”

“Just…confused and Jason. Jay, I punched a cop? Those were cops?!”

“It’s okay, Tim.”

“It’s not okay! They’re going to put me in jail!”

“They’re really not, I promise you.”

“What? What’s going on?”

“Tim. Put me on speaker.”

“Jason? We’re both here.”

“Damian…the cops were here because you’re Bruce Wayne’s son.”

“Wh…what?”

“You’re real name, coincidentally, is Damian Wayne.”

“How can you be sure?”

“He…he has proof. And photographs. He only found out about it this afternoon.” 

“But the police?”

“The cops went into full-blown panic mode once they found records of you because the house used to belong to a mob boss.”

“What? A mob boss? I thought the house belonged to Dick’s barker?”

“So did we and- I can’t- I don’t want to do this all over the phone. Please come home.”

“Jay? It’s just me now. Damian is done listening.”

“Shit. I should have waited.”

“No, this was good. It’ll…give him time to digest. It’ll give us time to digest.”

“But-“

“We wouldn’t have come home without some kind of explanation, Jason. You know that.”

“But you’re coming home now?”

“Do we have a choice?”

“…I don’t know.”

“They found him once, they’ll find him again. Is…is he going to take Damian away?”

“Tim, I don’t know.”

“Okay…okay…”

“Do you want me to come get you both?”

“No, I don’t think that would help. I’m going to focus on Damian.”

“Okay. I love you, babybird. I love you both.”

“Love you too.”

-----------

“They’re both okay?” Bruce asked quietly after Jason hung up the phone. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed but he couldn’t help himself. His son had been on the other line.

“They’re fine.” Jason nodded, still looking at his phone.

“They were at Connor’s then? He was the one who answered?” Dick asked, for clarity’s sake.

“Yeah, he picked up. That asshole gave me a hard time though. He doesn’t trust me.”

Dick grimaced and gently reminded him. “With good reason.” Not that Jason needed reminding of the year he spent away from his family.

“He wants Tim.” He insisted quietly.

“And Tim wants you. Connor would never do something do jeopardize Tim’s happiness. He’s a good guy.” Dick’s reasoning just had Jason shaking his head.

“Maybe that’s why I hate him.” Jason bypassed the couch entirely to sit on the floor in front of Dick and stare at the wall across the room.

Dick frowned and tugged on a lock of Jason’s hair. “Connor Hawke has never caused us any trouble, Jason.” He didn’t get a response from Jason with that and Bruce saw fit to cut in.

“Connor Hawke? Oliver Queen’s other boy?”

“The pacifist, yea.”

Bruce exchanged a glance with Commissioner Gordon that Dick and Jason missed entirely. Two of Oliver Queen’s sons were now supposedly involved with this family. 

“They’re coming home though. Soon. Eventually.” Jason shrugged and leaned back against the couch.

“Where does he live? We’ll send a car.” The commissioner told them.

Jason looked up and batted Dick’s hand away from his hair. “No offense but it was hard enough convincing them to come back. No cops. I think they’ve had enough of Gotham’s finest invading their lives tonight, don’t you think?”

“Jason.”

He twisted his head to look up at his brother. “No, Dick, you know that I’m right. They’ll be here in a little while. I want the cops gone.”

“We can’t take the risk that you won’t-“

Jason cut off the commissioner and gestured to Bruce. “He’ll stay. I doubt we can get him to leave anyway.” This time, when Jason’s gaze met Bruce’s own, it wasn’t cold, but rather just curious.

“He’s right, James. I’ll be here all night.”

“Fine. But you have my direct line should you need it. And son, you should get your head checked out by an actual doctor.” He added to Dick.

Jason and Dick snorted simultaneously. The normalcy of the brotherly timing had Dick smiling the tiniest bit. “I’ll take that under consideration, thank you, Commissioner.” 

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

Damian was curled up next to Tim, his head resting in his brother’s lap. He hadn’t spoken since they had gotten off the phone with Jason forty minutes prior. Tim was running his fingers through his hair, offering what little comfort he could to the twelve year old.

“Timothy.” Damian said quietly, not moving from his position. “Your boss is my father.”

Tim sighed. “It…seems that way.”

“We’re going to have to go home.” It wasn’t a question.

“…Yes. Dami, I’m so sorry.”

Damian squeezed his eyes shut and his hands clenched tightly around the loose fabric of Tim’s pants. “Can we…can we wait? Not too long but…”

“Sure. Of course. Anything.”

“Tell me a story?”

“The Romans again?”

“Please.”

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

Bruce watched as the eldest two brothers of the family had a silent argument using their eyebrows and angry hand gestures. After a few moments, Jason was the one who conceded, with an unhappy sigh.

“Fine, dad. Christ.” He told Dick, grumpily. “I’ll go shower but call me the second they come home.”

“Only if you promise to put pants on before coming down the stairs.”

Jason huffed but didn’t argue. Instead, he raced up the stairs and immediately turned on the shower. Once he was out of the room, Dick tensed, as though he had only just realized that sending Jason upstairs meant that he was alone with Bruce. 

He looked up and gave the man possibly the weakest smile he had ever managed to muster. He scooted over on the couch and tilted his head towards the cushions that were furthest away from him. Bruce nodded in return, smile tight on his face. 

“Can I ask…” He started. When he didn’t even get glance in his direction from Dick, he continued. “Where did you get my name from?”

Dick turned his head towards him just the slightest bit and raised an eyebrow. “I picked it out of the newspaper.”

“You picked my name out of the newspaper.”

“Funny how it worked out.” Dick admitted dryly.

“And your real last name is?”

“…Grayson.” Dick breathed, as though he hadn’t said the name aloud in years.

Bruce nodded, remembering what the detective had said earlier. “Of the Flying Graysons. You are the missing Grayson boy from all those years ago? And I thought your brothers had the identity problems.”

Dick winced at that but didn’t argue. His family worked just fine in the way they went about their life. Jason didn’t need to talk about his past if he didn’t want to. No one ever mentioned how bruised and near-death Tim had been when Dick had found him in the abandoned lot near their house. And Damian, well, he couldn’t even remember his past so it was a moot point.

“I won’t keep it.” Dick started. “Your name, I mean. I’ll talk to Jason and Tim but I’d like them to be Graysons. I don’t think they’d mind.”

“How did you get all the paperwork?” Bruce asked. His tone was accusatory, he just seemed genuinely curious. Dick tried to blame him but couldn’t. It was improbable that four boys would come together with no common ties. Dick felt again as though he was going to be ill. If he hadn’t chosen Wayne out of the paper that day maybe Damian wouldn’t be getting taken away from him. 

Dick could never fight money. He hadn’t been able to fight Roy’s wealth and influence when he had fabricated Jason’s false death. How would he be able to fight against Bruce Wayne? He admitted, bitterly, that maybe being with Bruce Wayne would be good for Damian. He would have the opportunity at a life without praying the the water was still on when he woke up. He wouldn’t be wearing Tim and Jason’s old clothes to school. He wouldn’t be getting kicked around in rumbles for neighborhood pride.

“You know Oliver Queen?”

“I do…”

“His sons, Roy and Connor. Connor and Tim are good friends. At least, they are now but Roy fixed everything for us a long time ago.”

“Aren’t your…groups on two different sides of the city?”

“Roy and I, well…Roy and I used to know each other. We had a…falling out. Even afterwards, Connor still came around. He’s a good kid.”

There was silence for a few beats before Dick had to ask.

“What’s going to happen to them?”

“Timothy and Damian?”

“Wherever Tim came from…you can’t make him go back there. Please.” The desperate look on Dick’s face hadn’t been there since the beginning of the night when he had regained consciousness and feared for his brothers. In order to deliver Tim to college, he had to be alive. Dick wasn’t so sure Tim would survive being sent back to wherever he had come from before meeting Dick and Jason.

“You don’t know where Tim came from?” Bruce asked, shocked. “He’s only sixteen.”

“I never asked.”

“Why not?”

“He was dying.” Dick closed his eyes, trying to block out the memory of a bruised, eleven-year old Tim. “Wherever he came from, we weren’t about to send him back to that.”

“I’ll try my best. I will, Dick. I already promised you that.”

“And Damian?”

“I…I will have official custody of Damian. I want to get to know my son.”

Dick let out a huff and muttered. “He’s going to love that.”

“There’s not a choice in there, Dick.” Bruce told him, almost regretfully.

“You clearly don’t know Damian.”

“I’d…like to try. You can’t fault me for that.”

“No” Dick sighed. “No, I can’t.” The unspoken But I can try lingered in the air.

“You’re more than welcome to visit whenever you want. All of you. In fact, I insist.”

Dick didn’t open his mouth for fear that he would release a helpless burst laughter.

“I know Alfred would love to see you again. I’m sure he’d immediately take to Tim. Though, I’ll admit I don’t know much about Jason.” Bruce watched Dick’s reaction carefully. “The commissioner said he was looking into your records. Whatever situation there is with Jason, I can try my best to fix that too.”

Dick shook his head sadly. “I can’t ask you to do that. I don’t even think it’s possible but I can’t ask that of you.”

They didn’t get any further in their conversation because there was a shuffling at the front door. Dick was off the couch immediately and holding the door open for his brothers. Or, at least, the one brother that walked through and into the house.

Tim looked so different from when Bruce had seen him just a day before. The bruise from the rumble was still prominent on his face but he seemed so much younger than the budding scientist that Bruce had interviewed. He looked tired and terrified all at once. He was also holding a sleeping Damian in his arms, the young boy hoisted so that his head rested against Tim’s shoulder.

“Is he okay?” Dick asked quietly, running his hand over Damian’s hair to ineffectively smooth down his cowlick.

“He’s just tired.” Tim shrugged, looking exhausted himself. “He was falling asleep on his feet.I told him not to worry. I said…I said that I’d carry him.” 

Tim’s voice was so resigned and Dick looked as though he was helpless to ease his brother’s mind. He did the least he could do but even as he lifted Damian from Tim’s grasp, the sixteen year old was reluctant to let go.

He probably wouldn’t have was it not for Jason coming down the stairs. His hair was still damp and his t-shirt was sticking to his chest but he clutched Tim to it. Tim wrapped his arms around Jason and inhaled the scent of his shirt, it was one of Dick’s old ones. Tim clenched his fists around the worn fabric and took a few more deep breaths, trying to absorb his family’s calming presence.

“Bruce, this is Damian.” Dick introduced him to his sleeping son who had curled up in a tight ball against Dick’s chest.

Tim turned his face out from where he had been pressed against Jason’s chest to watch Bruce look at his son. The man seemed almost in awe. He didn’t reach out to touch Damian. He just…stared, as though he couldn’t believe it. Tim supposed that could have been one of his possible reactions considering that he hadn’t known about Damian since that afternoon. He wanted to move towards Damian but his legs wouldn’t corporate and his knees wobbled without the support of Jason.

“Go to bed, Timmy.” Dick said gently, looking up at Jason for help.

“Not if…” Tim stared at Damian and they all realized that the second half of his sentence was going to be “this is the last time I’m seeing Damian.”

“He’s still asleep, Tim.” Bruce said gently. “I wouldn’t take him to wake up in a strange place. We’ll leave tomorrow morning and go right to the police station.” He examined Tim, who looked as though he was about to fall over, and slowly said, “I already told Dick. You boys are more than welcome to visit whenever you want. I insist.”

Tim’s exhaustion had him releasing the same, single burst of laughter that Dick had held in. Jason grimaced at the sound but ultimately had the same resigned expression as Dick. Bruce felt as though he was going to be ill but then he looked at Damian and wanted to know everything about his son. But he also wanted to know about his son’s family. Damian’s three brothers had shaped him over the past three years and he wasn’t about to leave them behind. He just wished that they believed him. 

“You can sleep on the couch tonight.” Dick offered. “Damian is going to sleep upstairs. It’ll probably be better if he does.” At that, Jason tugged on Tim’s shirt.

“Come on, babybird, up the stairs.” Tim took one last look at Damian before letting Jason lead him up the stairs.

“All right. All right, thank you.” Bruce responded quietly.

“We won’t-“ Dick paused and shifted Damian in his arms. “We’re not going to leave or anything-“ 

“I know, Dick. I trust you.”

“Sure.” Dick just sighed, not believing him. It’s the same look Dick had tried to hide when Bruce asked if he could see him again. ”Good night, Mr. Wayne.”

——————————————

When Dick blinked awake the following morning, his head was still pounding. Even the heat provided by the fact that he was surrounded by his brothers didn’t deter the cold wind coming through the drafty house. 

Memories of the previous night came flooding back into his mind and Dick let loose a soft moan and pushed his face further into Jason’s pillow. 

It wasn’t fair. 

Life had never been fair to Dick. 

Even as he thought that, he couldn’t help but listen to the nagging voice in the back of his head telling him that it was a good opportunity for Damian. He’d be able to live in a house without mice and with a real heating system. Dick would bet a solid amount of money [that he didn’t have] on the fact that Wayne Manor probably never got their water shut off due to a lack of financial resources. 

If the only positive thing out of the situation was that Damian would be able to achieve a better life on the other side of Gotham, then Dick would hang onto that for all it was worth. Not that he would ever be able to convince himself of that. Or Damian. Or Jason & Tim. 

Groaning again, Dick let himself roll, not ungracefully, off of the bed. He took a look at his brothers, curled together on their shared bed and tried to ignore that he’d never wake up like that again. 

There was no use delaying the inevitable. 

Dick crept down the stairs. Even after fifteen years of living in the house, he could never remember which floorboards squeaked and which stayed silent. He did his best while steadfastly attempting to ignore the billionaire that was sleeping on his couch. 

It sounded even more ridiculous when he repeated it to himself.

A billionaire is sleeping on our couch.

Dick hadn’t been in the kitchen for more than a few minutes when he heard tiptoeing down the same path he had just come from. He paused from where he was pouring milk into a mixing bowl and turned to see…Damian. 

Their voices were hushed, so not to wake the man, Damian’s damn father, in the next room. 

“You’re up early, Little D.”

“I feel asleep early.” Damian responded quietly and took eggs out of the fridge to put them on the counter. He had watched Dick and Jason make breakfast for the family a hundred times before. He knew what was coming. He knew what was next. It was a routine. Their routine. 

Dick wasn’t surprised when Damian immediately cut to the case. If Dick hadn’t been sure what Tim had told Damian the night before, he certainly didn’t have any doubts then.

“What if I have a nightmare when I’m over there?” Damian’s voice was quiet but firm. Dick only paused for a moment, noticing that Damian hadn’t stopped moving around the kitchen and was quietly setting the table. Not even removing the utensils from the drawer with their usual clanging. 

“I…I’m sure he has a phone, Damian.” Dick thought quickly. “You can call us whenever you want, okay? We’re your family. Maybe he’ll even want to help you.” Dick should have known that last part wasn’t going to fly.

“-Tt-”

Dick rubbed his hand over his face and held in a sigh. He had to be positive for Damian. “Damian, he’s a man who lost his son. He’s not a bad person.” Dick insisted but he could tell by looking at Damian’s unimpressed expression that his own wasn’t very convincing. 

“He did not know that I existed.”

Dick frowned. “That wasn’t not his fault.”

Damian took a step backwards, unsure and cautious. “You’re on his side?”

Dick’s eyes widened with hurt and he set the mixing bowl aside on the counter. He stared down at the lumpy mixer, idly wishing Jason to come down and finish the breakfast. Not looking at Damian, he took a deep breath and whispered. “Do you think that I want you to leave?” Thinking positively had backfired on him and when he looked over at Damian, his brother was already rushing towards him. 

Kneeling down, Dick caught him in the hug and they held onto each other tightly. 

“I’m sorry.” Damian whispered into his brother’s neck. “I didn’t mean it.”

“We’ll figure it out, Damian.” Dick promised. “We’ll make it work.”

When they broke apart, they noticed Tim leaning against the doorway to the kitchen with a sad smile on his face. Damian beckoned him forward, glaring through the wall at the spot where his supposed father was asleep on their couch.

“You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Dick looked over at Damian. “Same problem here.”

There was silence as the three of them prepared a breakfast usually made by the only person still left asleep.

“Go wake up, Jay, Tim. Breakfast is almost ready.”

“I’ll do it.” Damian volunteered. 

Tim raised an eyebrow. “You sure?” Jason was a notorious grump in the mornings.

“I want to do it.” Damian told them quietly, not meeting their gazes and quickly slipping off upstairs. Tim swallowed, realizing that it had been implied that it would be the last time Damian would be able to annoy Jason into waking up.

“We need another chair.” Tim said suddenly, in a normal speaking tone. He clapped his hand over his mouth and peeked into their main room but shook his head. Bruce Wayne was still asleep.

“We only have four chairs.” Dick sighed and looked around the kitchen, as though he expected a chair to magically appear. He waved Tim off, spatula in hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just sit on the counter.” He lowered his voice to a mutter so Tim couldn’t hear him. “Or hey, maybe he’ll just disappear by the time breakfast is finished cooking and it’ll all have been a crazy dream.”

Tim gave him a funny look but didn’t respond so Dick was about to distract him with even more talking when Tim beat him to it:

“Did you really sleep with him?”

Dick looked at the sizzling frying pan, full of bacon and sausage, and half debated just sautéing his face. “Jason told you that?” He asked through gritted teeth, not even know when Jason would have had the time to tell Tim. Not that he should have been surprised. Dick was about 23% sure that the two of them shared a psychic connection.

“I was there when he got the message from Holly.” Tim shrugged innocently.

“Ah. Of course.”

“For what it’s worth…” Tim started and bit his lip. “I believe you, you know. That he’s nice.”

“Yeah?”

“He was nice when I met him in the lab.” Tim said thoughtfully, reaching up and putting two fingers delicately to the bruise around his eye.

“Can you convince Damian and Jason of that?”

Tim ignored him in favor of asking another question. “Do you really think we’ll see Damian a lot?” 

“I think that if Damian has anything to say about it, we will.” Dick told him, a lot more confidently than he actually felt about the situation. 

“Damian usually has a lot to say about things.” Tim murmured.

“That’s what I’m counting on. We’re not going to be out of his life, Tim. Not by a longshot, okay?” Dick tried to smile but he knew it wasn’t working. Instead, Dick went with another tactic: “He said you’re getting that scholarship by the way.”

“What?” Tim nearly dropped the juice carton. 

“Mr. Wayne.” Dick sighed. “He said that his scientists were absolutely crazy about you and practically demanded that you be given the scholarship.” Tim looked at him blankly. “Tim, you’re going to college.” Dick told him gently, unable to help the fond smile that came across his face.

“I’m going to college.” Tim repeated dumbly, looking at Dick as though he had six heads.

Dick wrapped an arm around Tim’s neck and pulled him in for a quick, messy kiss to the top of his head. “You’re going to college.”

“You didn’t tell Damian right?” Tim’s voice was muffled into Dick’s arm.”

“No, I didn’t I wanted to tell you first.”

“Let’s not tell him, Not yet, okay?”

“Tim…”

“Not yet.” The sixteen year old insisted and Dick nodded, grudgingly. Tim beamed at him and stepped back in time for Jason’s low, rumbling voice to take over the kitchen.

“Brat jumped on my head.” He grumbled. Jason looked suspiciously at Dick and Tim’s quickly fading smiles but was soon distracted by whether or not he should go towards  the coffee pot or Tim first. Tim won out, as per usual.

Dick let Damian attach himself to his side, trying to maneuver around a hot stove and a twelve year old limpet. “Good morning to you too, Jason.” He raised the plates over Damian’s head and handed them off to Tim. The kitchen was a mess but breakfast was made. Jason was side-eyeing the pancakes, probably remembering the time when Dick had left more than one piece of eggshell in the batter. 

“Who wants to wake him up?” Dick grimaced and tilted his head towards the kitchen. 

Damian quickly touched his finger to his noise and Tim and Dick immediately followed suite. 

Jason, in true Jason-fashion, just wrapped his arm around Tim’s waist and kicked up his foot to knock one of the empty frying pans off of the counter. 

The loud clang seemed to echo through the whole house and Dick glared at his brother.

“Oops.” Jason offered and shrugged unapologetically. 

They all looked towards the open doorway to where a groggy Bruce Wayne had just tried to mask his stumble into their kitchen. He stood up straight and gave them a weak smile.

“Good morning.” He nodded, smiling gaining strength. That was soon put to a stop by Damian, who went right up to him, arms crossed over his chest. The twelve year old looked up and huffed:

“Father. I thought you’d be taller.” 

“Christ, Damian.” Jason let out a laugh and Dick looked horrified. He pulled Damian away from Bruce.

“Morning, uh, Mr. Wayne. The bathroom is upstairs if that’s what you’re looking for.” Dick told him lamely, trying to will Damian to tone down his glare. It wasn’t working. Tim was just watching the scene unfold in abject horror while Jason already had three strips of bacon in his mouth. 

Dick supposed they could have made a worse impression. Somehow.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it because he was soon sitting through an awkward breakfast. Well, he was mostly standing through an awkward breakfast because he hadn’t cleaned off the counter and although Bruce Wayne had attempted numerous times to get Dick to take his seat at the table, Dick refused. 

Dick spent the rest of the morning telling him that he had to be on his best behavior for Damian’s sake. He repeated it to himself as he watched Jason and Tim hug their youngest brother goodbye. 

He let it spin around his head as Damian packed his old schoolbag full of his few school supplies and clothes, even stealing a few of Tim’s books. 

He nearly said it aloud when Bruce invited the whole family to dinner the following night.

He did end up whispering it, however inaudibly, as they were in the police station and he hugged Damian goodbye, trying to hold it together as Bruce Wayne turned away to give them privacy and Damian began to cry into his shoulder. 

-----------

When Dick got back to the house, he found Tim resting back, on top of Jason on their couch. He didn’t bother asking them to move, just fell on top of his Tim and ignored the “Oof” noise that had come from Jason.

Being in the comforting presence of his brothers, Tim’s fingers running through his hair only seemed to magnify the fact that they were missing one.

Dick moved his head to look at the both of them. They had matching concerned expressions on their faces. “Should I be fighting this more?” He asked quietly.

Jason shrugged. “He has photos, papers, fingerprints, money, and Damian’s nose. Soon enough, he’ll have DNA.” The anger registered in Jason’s observations had Dick feeling irrational and helpless. It wasn’t as though he needed a legal claim to Damian but they were all that he had known since he had come into their lives.

“It isn’t your fault, Dick. We don’t blame you. You’re filed the report. It was the right thing to do.” Tim assured him.

“But we’re all he knows.” Dick spoke his thoughts aloud.

Tim nodded, with an air of quiet determination.“Which is why we’re going to stay in his life. Damian will make sure of that and so will we.”

“It’s just. It’s like we don’t have any right to him anymore.” Dick let his face fall forward again into the worn fabric of Tim’s jeans.

“Did we ever have one to begin with?” Tim asked sadly.

Jason spoke up, “I meant to tell you yesterday, Dick. Well, I had started to when I came into the house but Bruce Wayne left you a pretty convincing message that he wanted to see you again.”

Dick just grunted into Tim’s thigh. He didn’t want to let himself think about a possible relationship that didn’t even matter anymore. 

“I don’t think he would have done that if he had been planning a raid on our house to steal our brother. So, for what it’s worth, I believe you. You know, about him being nice.”

“Thanks Jay.” That didn’t motivate Dick to move his face from where it was plastered against Tim but it still felt good. Or it did until Jason started talking again.

“What are the odds that this is just Damian going through extreme lengths to cockblock you? Oof! Tim, jeez.” Jason clutched his side while Tim blinked innocently at him, though he hadn’t bothered removing his elbow from the vicinity of Jason’s stomach.  The exchange still didn’t get Dick moving, however. Nothing had him moving until Tim apologetically shook him awake a few hours later, telling him that he only had an hour until his night shift.

-----------

-----------

Dick was surprised and relieved all at once when he got a total of four phone calls from Damian in between leaving his brother at the police station and going to dinner at Wayne Manor the following night. 

Mostly, Damian just wanted to hear his  brothers’ voices. He didn’t want to talk about the manor or Bruce or anything about their “situation.” All he would mention in relation to that was: “Mr. Pennyworth is very competent.” He just talked about his homework and let Dick tease him about his badly-hidden crush on Milagro Reyes.

Bruce had apparently told Damian that he wanted to keep the whole Missing Son situation as quiet as he could so reporters wouldn’t bother him. It was sensible and thoughtful and all the things that Dick could have hoped. 

That didn’t stop him from hating it. 

Dick wasn’t sure what he was going to tell the neighborhood when they realized Damian was still going to the same school but being dropped off and picked up by a town car every day. He knew the gang wouldn’t give him too much trouble. Even if they did, the Reyes would set them straight. Dick always made it clear that his brothers came first and to hell with anyone who tried to fuck with them.

Still, he was trying not to think about the consequences. That was a problem for Monday and it was still Sunday. With his luck, the neighborhood and their gang of friends would be wrapped up in their own problems. 

Sunday’s main focus was dinner at Wayne Manor. Jason had ironed the cleanest shirts that they had while Tim watched from the couch. Tim was more anxious than usual but Dick chalked it up to the scholarship and the impending college decisions that needed to be made.

Dick scrounged up some extra cash so they would be able to take the bus across the city. Tim argued but it was too cold for them to walk to Wayne’s neighborhood and knowing their luck, their only good clothes would be ruined by the time they got over there. 

Walking up Wayne’s street to the manor, Dick couldn’t help thinking of the night he had previously spent there. Hard as he tried, he couldn’t help but wish things were different. 

He probably would have gone out with Bruce. 

Probably. 

His brothers would have staked out all their dates but that’s something he would have been able to deal with.

Probably.

Pushing hypotheticals aside, he watched Jason and Tim as they walked just slightly ahead of him. Tim was bundled up in as many winter accessories as he could find but as they past by mansion after mansion, Tim burrowed closer against Jason’s side. The older boy didn’t look particularly surprised by it and just pulled Tim closer. Dick could have sworn that Jason was glaring at one of the houses but before he could give it any more thought, they were turning up the sidewalk that lead to Wayne Manor.

“Best behavior, guys.” Dick murmured.

“That better not have been directed at me.” Jason frowned. 

“You snuck Holly and Tim into the mayor’s ball last year and Holly nearly got arrested!”

“That’s just because she was stealing things. Tim and I had date night! I didn’t know Holly was going to be there.”

“Date night at the mayor’s ball?”

“Best behavior is how we got in.” Dick’s glare had Jason tacking onto the end of his sentence. “Okay, and borrowed tuxedos. And a stolen invitation. But I had missed his junior prom! I needed to make it up to him.” 

“That was a good date night.” Tim said thoughtfully and Jason beamed at him. 

“Fantastic.” Dick muttered. “This is going to be fantastic.”

It was only a few seconds after ringing the ominous doorbell that the front door slowly swung open to reveal Alfred. His presence had a calming effect on Dick that the eldest brother didn’t have time to decipher because Damian shot out of the door and seized Dick right around his middle, knocking him off the front porch and onto the sidewalk.

“Oof. Hi, Demon.” Dick grunted and wrapped his arms around Damian, not bothering to get off the ground just yet. It wasn’t entirely the welcome he had expected but he wasn’t too surprised. He looked up from where Alfred, Jason, and Tim were staring at them. 

Jason coughed and turned back towards Alfred. “Hi.” Jason gave an awkward, half-wave. “I’m Jason, this is Tim.” He gave Tim a little nudge. “And the one currently being smothered by Damian is Dick.”

His nonchalant attitude actually managed to make Alfred smile as he shook their hands and ushered them into the house. Dick pushed himself off the ground, Damian still wrapped around his waist, and hobbled through the door.

“Ah, Master Richard. It’s good to see you again.” Alfred said warmly, shaking Dick’s hand as well.

“Again?” Damian asked suspiciously, not moving from his place leaning against Dick’s side.

“Remember when Selina said she’d gotten me a job? I was filling in for a bartender here the other night.” Dick told Damian before anyone else could answer, ignoring the smirk from Jason that he was praying his youngest brother couldn’t see.

He looked up from ruffling Damian’s hair and saw Bruce standing a few feet away. The older man’s tense smile seemed to relax as he watched Damian happily hugging his brothers.

“It’s good to see you all again.” He told them, using what Dick was starting to think was his real smile. It wasn’t the one he used when speaking at the gala but it was the same one that Dick had woken up to the following morning. 

“Dinner is prepared so I think eat first and then a tour of the house.”

“A tour?” Jason asked, looking over at Dick with a confused look. After they had hung up their coats, he and Tim hadn’t stopped holding hands and Tim’s free hand was soon claimed by Damian. The youngest pulled Tim and by extension, Jason, into the smaller dining room where a miniature feast had been set up. 

“Of course, you’re young Master Damian’s brothers and you’ll be here quite often. You should know your way around the manor.”

“Right.” Jason said, awkwardness evident in his tone. “Okay, cool. Right.” 

Dick looked at him and mouthed “Be nice.”

Once they had taken their seats, Dick and Damian on one side of the table, Jason and Tim on the other, with Alfred and Bruce at the heads, no one seemed to know what to say. 

Bruce took a few deep breaths, although he was preparing to say something but he ended up shutting his mouth each time. He and Alfred seemed to be having a silent conversation through facial expressions and Dick looked down at his plate.

“The dinner is very good, Mr. Pennyworth.” Damian said quietly and looked at Jason. “He is a very good chef.” 

“Thank you, Master Damian, very kind of you to say.” Alfred thanked him with a kind smile. “And as I’ve told you before, please, call me Alfred.”

“Is this…marjoram?” Jason asked suddenly, taking another bite of the meal in front of him.

“It is.” Alfred told, pleased, and nodded approvingly. “Very good, Master Jason. Most tend to confuse it with oregano.”

“Jason does all the cooking.” Damian told Alfred. “He’s very good.”

The only noticeable effect that the compliment had on Jason was the red that appeared on the tip of his ears. Tim tried and failed to hold in a small laugh and when it got out, he just smiled at Jason. “You are very good. Also, I finished the last of the scones.” Tim admitted.

“Well, they were your scones.” Jason mumbled.

“What kind did you make?” Alfred asked and then added on the end, “If you don’t mind me inquiring.”

There was silence at the table as everyone seemed to be holding their breath until Jason answered:

“Blueberry. They’re Tim’s favorite.”

“A very good choice.” Alfred nodded, pleased, and continued talking.

As Jason and Alfred quietly exchanged recipes back and forth, Tim and Damian smiled at one another and Dick finally let out the breath he had been holding. 

He watched as an enthusiastic conversation about spices and seasonings grew from Alfred’s innocent question and he could see Damian physically relaxing next to him. Good. That’s what mattered. 

They all had to get along for the sake of Damian but if they could get along organically, without any falsities, it would make the whole process smoother.

Dick took advantage of the conversation to sneak a look at Bruce, who was watching the interaction with that genuine smile again. He had his gaze on Damian and his eyebrows went up whenever his son defended a meal that Jason wasn’t particularly confident about. Dick saw as Bruce examined each person at the table, one by one. When Bruce finally met his eyes, Dick didn’t look away but inhaled sharply, managing to cough on mashed potatoes.

“Dick! Are you okay?” Damian always had a way of demanding as opposed to asking.

“I’m- I’m fine, Dami.” Dick insisted, raspy voice and all. He looked up to see that, not only was everyone staring at him, but Bruce had raised himself out of his chair, as though to come towards him. Damian followed Dick’s line of vision and looked at his father curiously, but turned back around as Dick’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Just went down the wrong pipe.” He smiled at his brother to assure him but even as he saw Bruce’s relieved smile over Damian’s head, he tried to ignore the hopeful and nervous look that had been in the man’s eyes that had caused Dick to choke. 

The rest of the dinner went smoothly and Dick soon found himself being pulled around the manor by Damian, with Alfred leading the way. Jason & Tim were meandering with Bruce in the back of the group. Tim’s tone was that of quiet excitement as he discussed the developments in the Wayne laboratories. Jason just watched him fondly as he worked himself up over the experiments and as Bruce tried to keep up with the more scientific aspects of the conversation.

Jason was practically salivating as Alfred showed them (but mostly Jason) around the kitchen. He invited him back over for the upcoming week so they could cook and he could answer some of the technical questions that Jason hadn’t been able to figure out when using their own kitchen.

Damian impatiently dragged Tim towards the library and then rocked back on his heels in smug delight as he watched his brother’s mouth dropped open at the immense collection that Bruce and his parents had obtained over the years.

“If you ever need a break from your school books.” Bruce tilted his head and smiled at Tim but the teenager was already getting pulled towards a section where Damian had set aside a large Greek history book.

“You’ll come over this week, right?” He asked his brother hopefully. “When Jason is in the kitchen?”

“Of course I will.” Tim assured him. 

The next stop took them down two flights of stairs to an enormous, almost cavern-esque room with high ceiling and…meticulously spaced out gym equipment.

Not just gym equipment though. Dick’s eyes widened and he ignored Jason’s pleased smirk at his speechlessness. 

Weights, mats, bars, tracks, pommel horses, and more. Dick squinted and even saw the setup for a trapeze rigging in the far corner. Dick wanted to live in that room. He hadn’t seen such a vast amount of equipment since leaving the circus.

“It’s good, right?” Damian tugged on Dick’s shirt and whispered before the Bruce and Alfred entered the room. “You can show me your father’s instructions on these? You said you’d teach me at the gym but that they didn’t have the right equipment-“

“Yeah,” Dick cut Damian off as Bruce came closer. “I can teach you on this stuff. Definitely.” That answer seemed to satisfy Damian and he followed Jason and Tim as they tried to find their way through the maze of machines and setups to the other side of the room.

He steadied himself against the nearest pommel horse and took a few deep breaths, trying not to be overwhelmed by the wave of nostalgia for his parents and the circus.

“Why do you have all this stuff?” Dick asked breathlessly, addressing Bruce directly for the first time that night.

Bruce watched him, concerned, as he carefully formulated an answer. “I used to- Well, I was training for a sort of night job, I guess, you’d call it. But I ended up deciding against that career. I kept all the equipment and still use most of it. It’s better than getting mobbed at the gym for being Bruce Wayne.” His self-deprecating smile turned serious. “Please, you’re more than welcome to use the equipment whenever you want.” 

“I might…I might take you up on that.” Dick murmured and looked away from Bruce, back towards the rigging. 

For the first time in a long time, Dick could see himself flying again. 

“I hope you do.” Bruce responded sincerely. They stood in silence, side-by-side, shoulders touching, until Damian called for them.

-----------

“Hey, Dami. How was school?” Dick groaned as he stretched out on his bed, phone resting near his ear. It was late for Damian to call on a school night but Dick had had an evening shift at the local hardware store.

“He got me a dog.”

“What?” Dick looked over at the phone as though it was actually his brother. 

“He. Mr. Wayne- Bruce. He got me a dog.”

“Oh, jeez. Please say that you said thank you.”

“…Yes. I thanked him.”

“Right away?” Dick pinched between his eyes. “Please say that you didn’t tell him that you liked cats better.”

‘I thanked him, Dick.” Damian insisted. 

“Okay. Okay.” Dick laid back against the pillow and sighed. “What kind of dog?”

“It is a great dane. He. He is a great dane. His paws are too large for him. It’s rather…endearing.”

Dick smiled, glad that it was a phone call and that Damian couldn’t see him. “He sounds cute, Damian. I can’t wait to meet him.”

“His name is Titus.” Damian told him, proudly.

“Oh, jeez, of course it is. Tim isn’t allowed to tell you stories anymore.” Dick laughed. If Damian’s biggest problem was that Bruce had tried to bribe him into liking him by buying a dog for the manor, Dick could rest easy. “He got the scholarship, by the way.” Dick said suddenly.

“What?” Damian asked, confused by the sudden, directional change in conversation.

“Tim. He got the scholarship. He’s able to go to college.” Dick said, appreciating how much he enjoyed saying it aloud. His little brother was going to college.

“Timothy is going to college.” Damian repeated, in a pleased tone.

They talked for about fifteen more minutes, only to have their conversation ended by Damian’s puppy climbing into his lap. Dick insisted that Damian go to bed. He didn’t want to be the cause of Damian falling asleep in school. They had a good rhythm going for their lunches and dinner at Wayne Manor. Dick was enjoying it and allowing himself to be cautiously optimistic about the whole situation. 

Dick was more confident and relaxed around Bruce, he even admitted it to Damian when his little brother had brought up his concerns. If Damian couldn’t live with his brothers, he wanted them over at the manor as often as possible, which, unfortunately, wasn’t too possible with their work schedules but they tried their best. 

What Dick didn’t tell Damian was the electricity that he felt whenever he was around Bruce. Dick knew that Jason and Tim were picking up on it but he hoped Damian wasn’t.

He hadn’t acted on it, obviously, and neither had Bruce. They both wanted what was best for Damian. Dick could respect that even if he still hated that he didn’t have all his brothers under a single roof. Bruce and Alfred had been incredibly kind to all of them, Dick wasn’t about to jeopardize that. 

“Look on the bright side,” Jason said to him one night, as he was helping Tim sort college paperwork, “You can’t die from unresolved sexual tension, right? Tim, is that right?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Tim responded mildly and sat back on his knees, arms crossed over his chest, examining the stacks of papers.

“Oh god, guys, gross.” Dick did not need to know about his baby brothers’ sex lives.

Tim ignored him. “I don’t think it counts as unresolved if they technically have already had sex.”

“Well, that was before the twister came and took us all to Oz. I don’t think UST counts past lives.” Jason mused.

-----------

“Timothy…will you come over tonight?”

Tim had “I was just over there last night” on the tip of his tongue but he caught himself before he let it out. “Okay, yeah, sure, Damian. Is that okay with Bruce? Are you okay?” 

“I need help with my homework.”

Tim didn’t say that Alfred could probably easily help Damian with whatever homework he had to do. Before he could answer, Damian spoke again, barely audible: “…I miss you. I…I had a nightmare last night.”

Tim sighed and started packing his schoolbag, phone balanced between his ear and his shoulder. “You didn’t call.” He observed worriedly.

“It was late.” Damian told him lamely, as though even he knew it was a weak excuse. The middle of the night had never stopped Damian before when he had lived with them.

“What about Bruce?” Tim tried another angle. 

“I…I didn’t want to go to him.”

“Damian…”

Tim’s heart skipped a beat as Damian spoke next: “I’m scared at how easily he is fitting into our lives.”

After a few seconds, Tim answered, gentle and terrified all at once: “Is that a bad thing?” He wasn’t sure who he was asking.

“Maybe not.” Damian answered. “I don’t know.”

They spent most of the night in the Wayne library, surrounded by piles of books and Alfred’s special hot cocoa. By the time Tim had packed his things, bundled up unnecessarily (Damian couldn’t understand why his brother was wearing sunglasses and a large cap after the sun had gone down), and was getting ready to walk out the door, Alfred came back into the room, keys in hand.

“Master Timothy, don’t even think that you are walking home in this cold weather. I’m disappointed that you walked over here instead of taking the bus.” Alfred told him sternly. “I will drive you back to your home and do not even think of arguing.”

Tim opened his mouth but wisely shut it. He looked at Damian for help but his younger brother just shrugged ineffectively. 

“I’ll see you soon, Damian.” Tim murmured in his brother’s ear. “I’ll be sure to brag to Dick and Jason about how I already met Titus.” He teased. The puppy, already knowing his name, perked up from where his head was resting on a pile of books. 

“Do your brothers like dogs?” Bruce asked innocently as he put some of his own books back on their shelves.

“They do.” Damian answered. “Jason particularly so. He will be jealous that Timothy has already met Titus.”

“Can I ask…Damian…” Bruce started but stopped, not knowing how to word his question. “Jason and Tim…” He trailed off uselessly but luckily, Damian just laughed.

“Jason and Timothy are not brothers to each other.” Damian admitted, not knowing how else to put it. ”But they are still each other’s family.” He told Bruce, concentrating on the books in front of him.

“I see. Thank you.”

“Mmm.” Was the only response Damian gave.

“You could have gone with Alfred, if you wanted. To drop Tim off at the house.”

Damian didn’t respond for a few moments. Instead, he continued putting books back on the shelves and letting Titus follow him around the library.

Finally, he spoke, quiet, sure, and apologetic all at once. “If I had gone with him, I would have been too tempted to go back into the house and never come back.” Bruce stopped what he was doing and looked over at his son but Damian kept his eyes on the shelf in front of him. “I believe Dick when he says that you are a good person. I do not want to go back on my word to Dick. I promised him that I would try. Additionally, it would hurt you and you…” Damian thought for a moment. “You have not done anything wrong. You have been…amicable. To me and to my brothers. They are comfortable here. I am…I am comfortable here.”

Bruce looked up from his book, not letting his fall out of his slack hands. His mouth was slightly open in shock. “I…Thank you, Damian.”

“-Tt-“ With that, Damian swiftly left the library, Titus stumbling after him.

-----------

“Bruce! You’ve had him for weeks and didn’t think to contact me?”

“How did you find out? You left as soon as you told me. Are you even in the country anymore, Talia?”

“You won’t deny it?”

“I will not.”

“I have some…contacts in Gotham. As does my father.”

“You didn’t deserve to know. You abandoned him and I won’t let you take him away from Gotham.”

“That’s not your call.”

“Of course it is. I’m his father. You’re just the woman who sent him away and never bothered checking up on him for years.”

“If you keep him from me, I will make you regret it. He’s. My. Son.”

“Not any more. He has a family here and I won’t let you take him out of Gotham. You have no claim to him anymore. The commissioner now on the other line. Goodbye, Talia.”

Bruce pressed and held the disconnect button on his phone in the manor’s office, taking a deep breath. He knew that it was slightly hypocritical but he was already doing everything in his power to make sure that Damian would stay in Gotham and not go where his brothers couldn’t follow. Sighing, he lifted his finger off of the button.

“Commissioner?”

“Bruce. We’ve looked into the brothers of your boy there.”

“And?”

“Well. I was able to find some sort of school records for all of them, but the paper trails are leading towards all dead ends. We don’t know how the oldest is being paid at his jobs since we can’t find any concrete background and identification numbers for him. The young one, Timothy, asked for an applicant ID on his college applications instead of giving them a social security number. And the middle one, well…”

“What is it?”

“Bruce, we have a Jason Wayne listed as dying nearly two years ago.”

“But. What? That’s impossible. Jason is obviously alive. And he’s the same person. The photographs in the house prove that.”

“And yet, any known paperwork lists him as dead.”

Dick and Jason’s stricken faces when they found out that the police were going to be looking into their records suddenly made sense.

“Are you still looking into it?”

“Of course we are. We’re gathering as much information as we can before we decide on a plan of action.”

“If I find out the paperwork issues and the legal documents, I can fix it, right?”

“Bruce…”

“They’ve had enough problems and they don’t need anymore. I’m going to make sure of it.”

“I’ll let you know your options once we have all the information. But we need the information first, Bruce.”

“Understood, James.” Bruce inhaled and finally raised his eyes from where they had been absently examining the patterned wood grain on top of his desk. He noticed a movement outside of the open office door and quietly ended the call with: “Keep me updated. I’ll talk to you soon, Commissioner.” 

Bruce hung up the phone and waited for the shadow at the door to move again, knowing that they were fully aware of each other. He spoke up gently, wanting to show that he wasn’t angry with his son: “Damian? How long have you been standing outside the door?”

Damian stepped into view and held onto the doorpost, examining it not unlike Bruce had been watching his desk during the phone call. “Since the conversation with my mother.”

Bruce closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to remember the specifics of the conversations. “I’m…sorry you had to hear that.”

“It’s okay. I…I don’t want to know her. Not…Not now.” Damian admitted. “You…were right.”

“Okay. Just. Say the word and I can set something up. I wouldn’t recommend it but if that’s what you wanted I’d do it.” Damian acknowledged this with a nod and Bruce saw fit to change the subject. “Damian, your brother, Jason, is listed as dead.”

Damian’s entire demeanor changed and his fingers curled around the doorpost. “Jason. Is. Alive.” He hissed protectively.

“He is.” Bruce agreed, hands raised in surrender. “I’m going to fix it. At least, I’m going to try my best to fix it.”

Damian narrowed his eyes “Why?” He was the most threatening twelve year old that Bruce had ever met. Not that he spent a lot of time in the company of twelve year olds. Damian’s current demeanor was just so different than the preteen that tackled his brothers to the ground and played fetch with Titus.

“Because they’re your brothers. They took care of you. I’m trying to help him. He won’t owe me for this. I swear. Your family owes me nothing. Besides, do you really think Alfred would let Jason out of his weekly cooking meetings? Your family is our family.” Bruce said lightly but Damian didn’t bite.

“-Tt-“ was the only response Bruce received.

“Damian, this isn’t a trap.”

“-Tt-“

“Damian, I can’t fix it until I know what happened.”

“That stupid Harper man happened.” Damian angrily spat. “Jason’s father had come looking for him and Dick asked Harper to get them papers that would pass any kind of inspection so we would be able to stay together but before it was finished, Roy got into trouble. He needed someone to take the fall and he used  Jason’s papers and had him declared dead.” Damian’s knuckles were still clenched white around the doorpost and he was leaning on it after the explosion, looking both terrified and furious that he had told Bruce.

“What?” Bruce blinked, wide-eyed. The situation was more convoluted than he had previous thought.

“Dick tried to get Harper to fix it. He thought it was a mistake but Harper had disappeared. Then Jason left too. He was gone for a whole year. Dick had wanted to apply to the police academy but he didn’t trust that the paperwork could go through and he couldn’t waste the money.”

So Oliver Queen’s son had taken advantage of Dick and Jason, using the latter as a scapegoat for whatever scheme he had been caught up in at the time. It certainly explained Jason’s suspicious attitude and Dick’s original reservations that morning when he thought Bruce was lying about wanting to see him again. Bruce didn’t blame him for having reservations about dating another wealthy Gothamite.

“Thank you for telling me. Damian,” Bruce walked out from behind his desk and knelt down in front of Damian, feeling a sense of pride that he couldn’t quite claim as Damian didn’t flinch away but looked him right in the eye. “I’ll try my best to fix it. All of it.”

Damian examined his expression carefully before quietly responding, with some resignation in his voice. “Thank you for…for being you.”

Bruce watched as Damian thought about speaking again but instead, he leaned in quickly and gave his father a hug. He pulled back just as rapidly and exited the room, leaving Bruce still kneeling on the floor.

Finding out that he had a son might have been the most brilliant, complicated part of Bruce’s life to date.

He read the school reports about the Damian’s violence and the summaries of the parent-teacher conferences and how well Dick had handled them. After a year, Damian slowly stopped being called into the principal’s office and had had “notable behavior improvements” according to his report cards.

Dick had raised smart, caring, and principled brothers. He had given them everything when they weren’t even blood-related. He had dedicated his whole life to three boys that he hadn’t even known and in doing so, saved Bruce’s son, and Bruce suspected, all three of the boys’ lives.

Bruce shook his head and lifted himself off of the ground. He needed to stop thinking about Dick’s selflessness. Not to mention the young man’s smile. It was just going to get him in trouble. Dick had put his brothers in front of his life for years, it was only right that Bruce try to do him justice.

——————

Bruce was in the Wayne building, thinking about how he hadn’t gotten a chance to go around to Tim’s station that afternoon. He suspected, though, that he made Tim nervous and he didn’t want to invite any problems so he tried to best to offer a simple smile or a wave as he passed by the teenager.

He was ripped from his thoughts as his office door swung open. 

Selina Kyle purposefully strode in, crossed his arms over her chest and a vicious expression on her face.

“What the hell did you do?” She asked angrily, resting her palms on his desk and leaning over him.

Bruce leaned back in his chair, struck by her appearance. “I’m…I’m going to need some clarification.” He told her slowly.

“Holly tells me that Damian is missing from Dick’s house and that all of the boys have been spending ample amounts of time at your manor.”

Bruce’s eyes widened. He knew that it was only a matter of time before the story got out to their neighborhood and then subsequently, he assumed, to the press. He just hadn’t expected repercussions in his office in the form of an angry, old friend. “I can explain, Selina.”

“Then. Do.”

“Damian is my son. His real name is, actually, Damian Wayne. I have custody of him and his brothers have been over frequently because I didn’t want to take him away from them entirely. He needs them."

“Did you know about this before or after you slept with Dick?”

Bruce flinched as though she had struck him. “You know about that?” 

Selina just raised an eyebrow.

“Of course you know about that. And it was after. I swear it.” He insisted.

Selina stood up straight again, not taking his eyes off of Bruce. “Dick didn’t tell me, if that’s what you’re curious about. I heard that you both had hit it off that night.”

“We had.” Bruce sighed and looked away. 

“Until you found out you were Damian’s father.”

“We haven’t discussed…that night. I’m not about to bring it up. Not unless he wants to.”

“Good.” Selina nodded and perched herself on the edge of Bruce’s desk.

“I wouldn’t do that to him. Not after everything he’s done for Damian. I owe him more than that but…”

“But what?”

“He’s done so much for his brothers I can’t help think that it’s time that someone did something for him.”

Selina gave him a thoughtful look before nodding. “I see.”

Bruce tried to explain it further but couldn’t get the words out properly and Selina took pity on him.

“You know, he’s always going to put Damian first.”

“So am I.”

Selina smiled and tilted her head to one side. “Then you already have that in common.”

Bruce shook his head. He didn’t want to let himself think about it more than he already had. “I’m trying to help in other ways. Like with their paperwork.”

“Ah. That lovely, legal clusterfuck.” Selina murmured. “I imagine that it’ll take more than just money to bring Jason back from the dead.”

“You know about that?”

“I’m one of the few that does.” She confirmed.

Bruce looked out his office window to the side of the building and was distracted by Tim walking out of the building. He watched as Jason met him and leaned in to kiss Tim while simultaneously wrapping a scarf around his neck. He gestured out of the window and Selina came to stand next to him, her expression melting into a pleasant smile as they watched the two boys walk away.

“What about Tim? Do you know anything about his life? Before Dick?”

“I don’t think Dick even knows about that. Jason might know because him and Timmy are-“

“Family but not brothers.” Selina looked at Bruce and he tried to will his face from getting flush. “That’s how Damian described it.”

“Right. That. Family but not brothers. Other than that, Tim is a mystery. And-” Selina held up her hand to stop Bruce from speaking as her phone rang. Bruce frowned at her but acquiesced. 

“Yes…This is she…What?…Which hospital…I’ll be there. Along with his brothers…Yes, as soon as I can…Thank you. Of course.” Selina hung up her phone only to begin to immediately dial it again. She looked out the window quickly and Bruce followed her gaze. Jason and Tim were already out of sight. 

Bruce heard the click over the phone’s speaker as someone picked up and Selina started: “Timmy, dear, it’s Selina.” Her normally smoothed over tone sounded nervous, even to Bruce. “Dick’s boss just called me and there’s been an incident.”

Bruce’s eyes widened as he realized who she was talking to. He immediately stood up out of his chair, ignoring Selina’s frown, which was directed at him. He could hear snippets of Tim’s frantic responses and he felt similarly anxious.

“It’s appendicitis, Timmy. He’s in surgery now over at Gotham General. You need to grab Jason and go. I’ll meet you over there as soon as I can.” Selina motioned for Bruce to sit down but he ignored it. She was listening to Tim when all of the sudden: “Tim, don’t worry about it. I will call Bruce Wayne and tell him to get Damian and meet you both at the hospital. I’ll make sure he knows, Tim.” Selina hung up and shoved her phone in her purse. She looked over at Bruce. “He’s probably going to call you anyway. Timmy can be nervous like that.”

“Is Dick okay?” He asked urgently. He was still standing frozen next to his desk from when Selina had waved at him.

“He’s in surgery right now, Bruce. Tim is freaking out which means that Jason is going to be doing the same very shortly.” Selina’ voice had receded back to its normal calm tones. Bruce tried to channel it but it wasn’t working.

“I need to get Damian.” Bruce went back around his desk and began searching through his papers for his car keys and cell phone.

“Yes, you do. I told Tim that you’d meet him at the hospital.”

Bruce didn’t voice aloud what he was thinking. That Tim trusted him enough that he thought to call him in order to bring Damian to the hospital rather than calling Damian’s phone directly. He wasn’t sure if he was interpreting that correctly but he liked to think that he was. 

“Why did they call you?” He asked as Selina rushed out the door. He followed her down to the parking garage, fingers wrapped too tightly around his car keys.

“Tim is a minor and Jason doesn’t exist. They aren’t able to be down as his emergency contacts.”

“So you’re Dick’s emergency contact?”

“There wasn’t another option and he needed the job. I was a believable reference. Go get your son and keep him calm. Those boys are terrors when they’re nervous.”

——————

“Jay. We can’t afford this.”

“It’s called financing, Timmy…don’t give me that look, we’ll figure it out.”

“You can’t leave again.”

“Tim…”

“Promise me you won’t leave again.”

“I promise I won’t leave. I can’t leave you alone to get lost in your own head, right?”

“Right.”

“It was a joke, babybird. Take a deep breath. They said he’s fine. He should be waking up any minute. Then we can go see him.”

“But where do we go from there?”

“…I don’t know.”

——————

Damian had been quiet and tense on the ride over to the hospital. He had curled up in his seat to, Bruce assumed, silently freak out. Bruce attempted to calm him, tell him that everything was going to be fine, that it was just appendicitis, but it was to no avail. 

It only cleared Bruce’s head as to what he had to do. He couldn’t have his son stressed and worried about what was going to happen to his family. He needed to be there for all of them. He had been going about this the wrong way. Bruce had realized that Damian was a package deal but not to the extent that he thought. 

Damian wasn’t going to be Damian without his brothers. Bruce needed them to know that they were his family too. Doing right by Damian included taking care of his brothers. 

He also needed Dick to know that he was more than just Damian’s older brother. 

Seeing Dick, lying in the hospital bed, surrounded by his worried brothers, had Bruce’s entire focus shifting. Damian had frozen as they walked in the doorway but began moving again when Dick’s eyes fluttered open.

“Hey, little D.” Dick croaked and offered his youngest brother a painful smile. Damian carefully walked around the bed and let Jason and Tim wrap his arms around him. “No fair.” Dick frowned and then winced.

“You can have hugs when you can accept one without grimacing.” Jason deadpanned. 

“He’s okay?” Damian whispered to Tim. “You’re okay?” He asked Dick.

“Yeah, Dami, I’m okay. I didn’t feel too good and one of the girls there is an EMT and she had her suspicions and they took me right to the hospital. Honestly, I’m fine. Nothing went wrong. They caught it before anything happened.” Dick promised and held his hand out to Damian, who took it gently.

“I’m glad you’re feeling well.” Bruce said quietly, drawing the attention of all the boys.

Dick smiled at him, loose and easy, and Bruce wondered what pain medication they had him on. “Thanks, Bruce.” He murmured, smile still on his face. Bruce tried to ignore the smirk that was coming from Jason but he’d take it over a glare from the young man. Maybe he and Dick hadn’t been as subtle as they had hoped.

“I’m going to grab you boys some dinner from the cafeteria, okay?” Before they can answer or argue, Bruce swiftly left the room. 

As he exited, he heard Dick ask: “How did your math test go, Dami?” as though he wasn’t lying in a hospital bed surrounded by his nervous brothers.

On his way back, Bruce paused outside the room to balance the sandwiches and check his phone. That’s when he heard the whispers.

“But how?”

“Dami, don’t worry about it.”

“We’ll figure it out, Demon, we always have.”

“You won’t leave again?”

“He promised that he wouldn’t.”

“We’ll ask Selina if she can spot us. And we’ve got some saved now that Tim has a scholarship.”

“You…you said you weren’t saving for me to go to college. We agreed.”

“You agreed. Jason and I didn’t. Tim, no matter what, we would have gotten you to college. You too, Damian.”

“I missed your grumpy face, Timothy.”

Then, instead of delivering the sandwiches, Bruce went to the nurses’ station to figure out how he could pay Dick’s medical bills. When he walked back into the room, not ten minutes later, Dick was making his brothers give detailed descriptions of their days. He ended up making Bruce do the same. 

Sitting in between Jason and Tim in the stiff hospital chairs, Damian perched carefully on Dick’s bed, Bruce felt comfortable and loved and, for the first time in a long time, he felt like part of a family.

——————

The following morning, Bruce found himself restless in the few meetings that he was required to attend. All he could think about was how comfortable he had been with Damian and his brothers as they sat around Dick’s hospital bed. Damian had reluctantly agreed to go to school even though he had wanted to stay in the hospital and watch over Dick. Bruce and Dick had actually teamed up on him and he relented, muttering but agreeing with the decision. Jason had a double shift to make up for calling out the previous day and Tim was in school as well, which left Dick by himself. 

Before he knew what he was doing, he found himself standing outside of Dick’s hospital room, almost embarrassed that he had stopped to get the young man flowers. 

He didn’t give himself anymore time to change his mind and walked into the room, smile on his face. “Good morning.” Bruce said quietly, nearly stopping at the sight of Dick’s own, tired smile directed at him, not losing any wattage, even with the pain medication. “I figured you’d be lonely during the day.”

Dick laughed and gestured to the seat closest to his bed. “I actually get to sleep a lot. It’s been pretty nice.” Bruce smiled again. He couldn’t imagine getting much sleep with brothers or jobs like Dick’s. “Thank you for the flowers.” Dick said, a little embarrassed, the slightest blush on his cheeks that Bruce didn’t want to attribute to his being in a hospital.

Instead, Bruce just gave him a soft smile and sat down next to the bed. After only a second’s hesitation, he took Dick’s hand, the one without the IV, and held it in his own. “Of course." He responded quietly.

He let his thumb stroke the back of Dick’s hand, enjoying the silence until: “You know, first, Tim thought it had been Selina. But Jason knew better than that.”

It took all Bruce had not to freeze and keep his attention on Dick’s hand in his own. “Tim thought that what had been Selina?”

“Don’t play dumb, Bruce.” Dick sighed, a tired smile on his face. “You paid the hospital bills.”

Bruce hadn’t expected to have this conversation when Dick was still in a hospital bed. But it was apparently unavoidable. He also hadn’t expected them to discuss the hospital finances until discharge but he should have known that the boys would have wanted to get it squared away as quickly as possible. With that in mind, Bruce took a few silent minutes as Dick allowed him to gather his thoughts.

“You're always going to be Damian's brother.” Bruce started slowly. “I’m trying to prove that to you, Jason, and Tim. No, not with the money.” He interrupted himself and shook his head while Dick just waited patiently.” I don’t mean it like that. Just, with the dinners and just all of you being around us more. You’re the only father-figure he can remember. I'd never take that away from him. Or you. I want all of you in our lives more than just visits. I’m just trying to show you that.“

Dick was quiet, eyes forward but kept his hand in Bruce’s. “Sometimes, when you say things, I believe you.” Dick closed his eyes and his voice dropped to a near inaudible whisper . “You have no idea how terrifying that is for me.” 

Bruce wasn’t about to insult Dick by asking him to explain it. He could understand the gist of it.  

“Like when I said that I'd like to see you again?” Bruce squeezed his hand.

They hadn't talked about that night since it happened. 

“Yeah…exactly like that.”

“You never called me back, you know.” Bruce teased lightly.

Dick opened his eyes, an incredulous look on his face. He answered slowly, returning the squeeze for Bruce’s hand. Their smiles grew simultaneously. 

“Sorry, I've been...busy. I’ve had some family stuff.” Dick laughed.

“Mmm, I guess that’s understandable.” Bruce scooted the chair forward a little more.

“This isn’t a good idea.” Dick said softly but didn’t take his hand away from Bruce’s. “I have…priorities.”

“Which I share.” Bruce allowed, and intertwined their fingers. “You know, when I first saw you across the ballroom, you had the brightest smile on.” Dick gave him a confused look but didn’t interrupt. “You had been talking about your brothers. They’re your whole life and I understand that.”

“But what if it doesn’t work out.” Dick’s voice wasn’t a whisper. It wasn’t a brush off. It was a serious question. One to which Bruce didn’t have an answer. 

“We've survived so far, haven't we? These past few weeks?”

“It's a little different.”

“Yes. It is. Dick, I'm asking for a chance. Let me prove that I want you all to stay in Damian's life and let me show how much I want you in mine. You’ve taken care of Damian and Jason and Tim for so long. Let someone take care of you now.”

“Bruce…”

Bruce leaned all the way in so Dick didn’t have to move from his spot on the bed. The kiss was short and lovely and it made Bruce went to stay in the same position for hours just to have Dick’s lips on his. 

When it broke, it hadn’t been for any reasons that he had expected.

“-Tt- It is about time.”

Damian was leaning against the doorway to Dick’s room, pleased smirk on his face.

Dick let his head fall back against the pillow but still managed to smile at his brother and squeeze Bruce’s hand. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“Half day?” Damian tried hopefully.

Bruce huffed and rolled his eyes. “Nice try.” Before Dick could protest, he swooped down and kissed him again. “Please, excuse me while I take him back to school.”

“Please do.” Dick smiled as Bruce’s fingers lingered on his own as their hands pulled apart

——————

The next afternoon, Dick finally got permission to leave the hospital. He insisted on going back to their house and Bruce showed restraint in only asking once if he was sure he didn’t want to stay at the manor. He reminded himself that a few kisses and conversations did not a very strong relationship make. Dick did, however, agree to letting Alfred fill their fridge with food. 

It was a small relief but the room was still at ease with Dick sitting up in the bed, laughing, clearly ready to get out of there. Bruce should have known that his good spirits couldn’t have lasted. 

Barbara Gordon walked into Dick’s hospital room, unannounced, with a serious look on her face. 

“Mr. Wayne. I hope you don’t mind. Bruce’s valet told my father that I could find you here.”

It took everyone in the room a few seconds to realize that she was addressing Dick as ‘Mr. Wayne’ as his papers hadn’t been changed yet.

“Babs?” Dick sat up a little straighter and offered her a confused smile. 

“Dick.” The redhead’s smile was tight and serious. “My father sent me here immediately.”

“What’s wrong?” Bruce interjected and did a head count of the room, just for his own peace of mind. The only person missing was Jason, which Tim seemed to be aware of immediately, judging by the growing fear on his face.

Barbara gestured to Tim and grimaced. “Someone has been in to the police station and asking about Tim Wayne.”

“What?” Bruce asked in surprise.

Dick was immediately on the defensive. “Who?” He looked towards Tim and saw that Damian had already gone to stand in front of him.

“A private investigator. He wouldn’t tell the officer on duty who he works for. All he said that he had received an anonymous tip that Tim Wayne was the person his client had been looking for.”

That had everyone looking over at Tim and Bruce could hear Talia’s words echoing in his head.

“If you keep him from me, I will make you regret it.” 

“Tim?”

Tim just turned to Dick, pleading eyes on his big brother, his protector, and, looking so much younger than his sixteen years, whispered:

“Don’t make me go back to him. Please.”

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

Dick, finally free to move without an IV attached to his hand, quickly walked over to Tim. He placed his hands on his brother’s shoulders and ducked down to look him in the eyes. “Okay, hey, calm down. You’re not going anywhere, okay?”

Tim was visibly shaking and brought up one hand to tangle his fingers in the worn fabric of Dick’s long-sleeve thermal.  “I’m still under eighteen.” He whispered, bringing his forehead to rest against Dick’s. Damian commandeered Tim’s other hand, holding onto it tightly.

“That doesn’t mean anything, Tim.” Dick shook his head and tried to give him a reassuring smile. “You know that we would leave the city before we’d let anything happen to you.” He slid a hand to the back of Tim’s head and stroked his messy black hair, trying to calm his brother.

“Boys. What is going on?” Bruce asked, his tone a gentle mix of urgency and confusion.

“My father.” Tim choked out, still looking at Dick. Judging by the worried and confused twin expressions on Dick and Damian, Bruce surmised that they were not privy to the entire story. Not that it seemed to be stopping them from crowding around to protect Tim. 

Babs took a step forward and Damian immediately let go of Tim’s hand to step in front of him and Dick. Babs stopped but peered over Damian to look at Tim. “Tim, if he knows your listed last name, then he can probably find out where you’ve been living.”

“Shit.” Dick muttered, stepping back from Tim only to grab onto his waist. It was a good idea because it looked as though Tim was about to fall over. 

His eyes grew wide and he looked at Dick, only saying: “Jason.”

“Is still at work.” Dick assured him. “He had a double at the pizza place, remember? He hasn’t been back to the house yet.”

“I’ll talk to Alfred and have him pick up Jason at work,” Bruce assured him and then looked over at Barbara. “Perhaps we could talk about this elsewhere. In my home, perhaps.” His eyes went to the open hospital doorway but before Babs could respond, Tim interjected.

“We can’t.” He said suddenly, a fearful expression back in full force across his face.

“Why not?”

“Because…Because I’m. My- My last name is Drake.” He took a breath. “And my father lives next door to you.”

There was deafening silence in the room as everyone let the news sink in . Barbara immediately took her phone out and at Tim’s questioning glance, she explained: “I have to tell the commissioner, Tim. He won’t tell anyone else. He’s going to put a tail on Jack Drake so we know where he is but no one will know more than that, okay? We’re already tailing the private investigator.” Her explanation had Tim visibly relaxing but not by much at all. 

“But you’ve been coming to the manor.” Bruce started, confused, not knowing how to phrase the question he wanted to ask.

“At night. Even then he’s been covering himself up.” Damian murmured, suddenly making sense of Tim’s ridiculous attempts at disguises.

“We still can’t stay here.” Bruce told him apologetically, still staying a few feet away so not to upset the brothers more. “We’ll go in through the garage. They won’t see us.”

“But Jason-“ Tim started.

“Jason will be fine. Alfred will pick him up at work, remember?” Dick told him calmly. He had his brother in a complicated, tight embrace, one hand still around his waist while the other stayed stroking Tim’s hair.

“He’s already on his way to get him.” Bruce promised, pocketing his phone.

——————

A tense ride later, with Barbara following them back to the manor in her own car, left Tim still shaking. They had reconvened in the library, only Jason and Alfred noticeably absent. Damian peered out the window above the long sofa, as though at any moment, he expected Jack Drake to come charging across the grounds towards them.

They had agreed to wait until Jason and Alfred arrived and it was only a few, awkwardly silent moments before the eighteen year old burst through the library doors, Alfred quickly following behind him. 

“Tim! What’s happening? Alfred said there was an emergency.”

“Jason!” Tim almost threw himself at Jason, hugging him tightly. “Jason. He found me. He found the house.”

Bruce flinched at the genuine terror in Tim’s voice and Jason looked up, wide-eyed, at Dick for an explanation, all while just holding Tim closely. He idly glanced towards the direction of the Drake house, solidifying Dick’s suspicions that Jason had known all along. It explained the pair’s tense behavior whenever they walked up the front drive to the manor.

“Hey, look at me.” Jason had Tim’s face in his hands. “I won’t let him take you. You know that.” He promised. “What happened?” He asked Dick and Damian, barely registering anyone else’s presence. 

“Barbara says that someone came to the police station asking for Tim Wayne.” Dick recounted.

“Jesus.” Jason looked winded and turned to Barbara. “But how? How did they know?”

Bruce spoke up, “The police did research when we found Damian. There were packets done on each of you. Somehow, he must have gotten access to them. Or someone he knows managed to get access.” Bruce paused for moment before quietly admitting. “I believe I know who is to blame.”

“What?” Damian took a conscious step back from his father and towards Dick. Bruce tried to ignore the flared feeling of hurt that shot through him at the action. 

“The other day, when you heard me speaking to your mother. She told me that I would regret my actions. That I would regret keeping you from her.”

“Damian, what is he talking about?” Dick asked, looking from Bruce to Damian and back again.

Damian’s eyes narrowed and he kept his gaze firmly on Bruce. “My mother wished for me to be reunited with and, I assume, live with her. Bru- Father told her no. That I would contact her when I was ready.” Dick gave into his urge to grab onto Damian. 

“And you think that she told the Drake PI where to find Tim?” Barbara asked Bruce.

“I can’t think of any other way they would have known exactly where to start looking. The whole situation has Talia written all over it.” Bruce said through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the fact that the four people he had sworn to take care of were all looking as though they were about to be sentenced to death.

Jason led Tim over to the couch and sat them both down. Barbara followed them, keeping a healthy distance that Dick wanted to thank her for. 

She had a notebook out and asked Tim gently. “Can I ask you a few questions? We’ll tackle this one thing at a time.”

Jason looked down at Tim and then turned back to answer her. “Sure, a few question would be fine.” 

“How long has it been since you’ve seen your father?” 

Tim looked up at Dick, who had perched himself on the armrest of the sofa. “When did you find me?”

“When you were eleven.” Dick responded without thinking.

Tim looked back at Barbara, “Around five years then.”

She placed her pencil on top of the notebook and, in a hesitant voice asked. “Tim…what happened?”

Jason squeezed Tim’s hand and he began to talk. “My housekeeper, Mrs. Brown, she found…she found some bruises on me and took me away when I was six. Or seven.”

Barbara politely didn’t call attention to the fact that Tim had ignored the real question.

Dick took advantage of the pause. “But you were eleven when I found you.” 

“That’s cause he found us.” Tim said quietly and looked down at his lap, where he and Jason’s hands were intertwined.

“You and the Browns?” Jason confirmed quietly. Dick looked over at Jason, but didn’t question why his brother seemed too familiar with the story.

Instead, he asked the questions that he knew Barbara was going to want the answer to. “How long were you wandering around the neighborhood?”

Tim’s voice was devoid of all expression as he spoke. “I didn’t start out in that neighborhood. He found me again and I ran again. I didn’t- I couldn’t go back to them. He was watching their apartment and he would have hurt them if I had gone back.”

“That’s why you didn’t want to stick around with us either.” Dick said quietly, bringing up a hand to rub Tim’s back. Damian went over to the other side of the couch and slotted himself next to Jason.

Tim’s voice was small and scared as he whispered: “I didn’t want anyone else hurt.”

“You asked to be trained to fight and move.” Dick remembered.

“I couldn’t protect them. I couldn’t protect myself.”

Barbara looked at her phone as it buzzed and held it out to Jason and Tim.

“Tim, there is no missing child report for Tim Drake. You just…disappeared when you were five.”

Shaking his head, Tim just shrugged. “He wouldn’t have reported it. It would have drawn attention to the whole situation.”

Barbara nodded and made a few notes.

“Where do we go from here?” Dick asked her.

Bruce took a few steps forward. “You’ll stay here, of course.”

“What?” came simultaneously from the four brothers.

Jason was the first to nod. “No, Tim, he’s right. You’ll be safe here.”

“What about you?” Tim asked, gripping Jason’s hand as though he was going to leave at that moment.

“I’ll be okay.” Jason tried to smile but it fell flat.

“You’ll be okay because you’ll be moving in with him. All three of you.” Bruce stated. He held up his hand before Jason and Dick could protest. “I mean it. There’s no telling what Jack Drake would do to any of you. It’s better if you’re all protected until this is taken care of.” He looked at Jason and Dick, trying to make them understand. “Please. It’s too possible that they might try to take you two to use as leverage to draw out Tim.” 

Tim’s face paled at the suggestion and he quickly looked at Jason and then Dick. “Please,” He echoed Bruce’s insistence. 

“But he’s right next door.” Damian hissed, looking out the window again.

“He’s kept this off the radar for years. He never filed a missing child report and only used PIs. We’ve got the Gotham PD on our side and it won’t be forever.” Bruce assured him. “We’ll find a way.” 

Barbara looked less than enthusiastic. “You’d never win in court. You know how Gotham’s judicial system is and Jack Drake has money to spare. He’d probably even go as far to get Dick charged with kidnapping.” She reasoned.

Damian let loose a strangled noise that had Dick and Bruce coming to his side.

Dick rested his hands on his brother’s shoulders in an attempt to reassure him. “Dami, it’s okay. Calm down.”

“The police are aware of Jason, you might be charged with kidnapping, and Tim is most likely going to get sent back to the man who almost killed him. And it’s my fault. I refuse to calm down!”

Dick let out a pained: “Damian!” just as Bruce knelt down in front of his son, just as he had in his office.

“Damian, anything your mother does is not your fault. I’m going to fix this.” He promised.

“What?” Dick looked at him, shocked that he would make such a promise.

“How?” Barbara, equally skeptical.

“I don’t know.” He admitted but continued talking. “I’m going to make a few phone calls. The first is going to be to your mother. With any luck, I can beg her to call off this crusade.”

With that, Bruce quickly strode out of the library. Dick took a look at his brothers and folded Damian into Jason and Tim’s grasp before following Bruce.

By the time Dick made it to the office, Bruce was already standing behind his desk and on the phone. When he saw Dick enter, he gave him a tight smile and placed the phone on the hook in order for it to be on speaker.

There was a click and Bruce jumped into the call.

“I’m looking for Talia al Ghul.”

There was a long pause before a man answered, with an accent that had an unrecognizable origin to Dick: “My daughter no longer resides at this residence.” He spoke slow and sure of himself with an air of curiosity directed at those on the other line.

“Ra’s?”

A moment of recognition had the man, Ra’s, responding with: “Bruce Wayne, yes?”

“Yes.” Bruce responded tightly. 

“What could you possibly want with my daughter?” The voice sounded amused but cautious all the same. Dick immediately didn’t like him and tightly grasped the top of the chair in front of him. Bruce pretended not to notice.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know what to think, Mr. Wayne. My daughter has been quite…tight-lipped as of late.”

“As of late?”

“Perhaps, four years.”

“Four years? So you know nothing about Damian?”

“My grandson?”

“Damian is my son. Talia sent him here three years ago, without my knowledge and I’ve only just found out about it.”

‘Three years? And where was he for those three years?”

“Amnesiac. He remembers nothing before Gotham. He was being taken care of by a group of self-less young men. Young men whose lives your daughter is attempting to ruin because I refuse to send Damian back to her. I need to stop her.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Ra’s-“

“Mr. Wayne, you misunderstand me. You do not need to deal with her because I will deal with her.”

“I- You. What?”

“You heard me correctly. What are my time constraints?”

“I’m sorry?”

“My time constraints. Will 48 hours suffice? It will have to do. I’ll be in touch.”

The call was disconnected and Bruce’s growl turned into a yell that was remarkably similar to Damian’s.

“Bruce-“ Dick started and moved forward.

“Please, Dick.” Bruce held up his hand. “I promised that I would try to do right by your brothers for Damian and I’m going to keep my word. Please don’t argue. Let me try to take care of you all. There are more people that I can call.”

Dick opened his mouth to speak but Bruce barreled through: “They’re not just your brothers. They’re Damian’s brothers, which makes them my family. You’re all my family” He sounded as though he was pleaded for a whole multitude of things. 

When Bruce looked as though he wasn’t going to interrupt him again, Dick just gave him a smile that managed to be sad and reassuring all at once. He walked over, placed his hand on Bruce’s shoulder, and said quietly: “Bruce, I was only going to try and thank you. Thank you, for everything. And good luck.”

——————

Dick felt stretched out. All of his brothers were in pain and the amount of stress was exhausting. He wanted to flip himself onto pommel horse but fear of opening up his stitches stopped him. The exercise would have been a welcome respite.

Sitting in the gym, imagining flying was the only way her could even attempt to clear his head. He hadn’t seen Jason and Tim all day and Damian had been curled up with Titus last time Dick had walked by the library. 

In a way, Dick guessed that he was hiding too, not that he’d ever admit it. 

Almost as though his brothers knew, slowly, they came down into the cavernous basement. First, Damian, sitting with Titus until Dick offered him a hand and began to cautiously show him a way around the mats. Then Jason and Tim came down and started battling each other on the twin rings until it looked as though they were moving together rather than going against each other. 

In the gym, with his brothers, and slowly rediscovering a rhythm that his parents had taught him, Dick almost felt calm again. Having his brothers with him as though they were young again helped him feel as though everything was normal. Or at least, their version of normal, with hidden problems rather than ones about to be dragged through court.

The key point though, that represented the same shift that they had been going through, was when Bruce took a break from making his seemingly constant and urgent phonecalls and watched from the sidelines until Dick held out his hand.

Bruce’s strong hand clasped his own and Dick was reminded of how all aerialists needed someone to ground and catch them. Dick thought that even his stress and worry didn’t compare to how terrified he was in the amount of trust he had put into Bruce. He hoped that Bruce’s resolve had a matching strength to his hands and that, maybe, Dick’s trust hadn’t been misplaced. 

——————

Bruce walked through the upstairs hallway, toweling his hair dry as he went. He was exhausted from the day, between the phonecalls leading nowhere and a hardcore workout in the gym with Dick and Damian. 

As he walked past Damian’s room, the door was open. He felt a surge of protectiveness go through him as he peered into the room. Dick, Damian, Jason, and Tim were all huddled together on Damian’s bed, holding each other closely and not even leaving room for Titus, who had settled himself at their feet.

A thought shot through his head and it was one that had become less terrifying over the past few weeks; he wanted them to stay. He wasn’t about to let Damian go back to Talia. He loved the laughter that came from the rooms whenever Jason and Tim got up the courage to cook, read, and make general use of the grounds. He also loved watching Dick as he, in turn, watched over his brothers. They had become his family. Bruce wasn’t about to let that go.

——————

The following morning brought no changes and Bruce was all the more concerned about the deadline Ra’s had given himself. 

It turned out that he didn’t have too long to wait. As everyone in the kitchen was quietly eating their Alfred-made lunch, the mail arrived and with it came a single envelope addressed to Bruce, four large folders, each addressed to one of the brothers, as well as a large tube with Dick’s name on the front of it. 

Bruce tore into the letter, recognizing Ra’s wax seal on the back of it, and read it aloud: 

“Bruce Wayne, my apologies for the delay in these letters. Please send my regards and apologies to the guardians of young Damian. I offer them the following tokens. Sincerely, Ra’s al Ghul.”

“Damian’s grandfather sent us these?” Jason poked his folder.

“What are they?” Damian asked, raising an eyebrow at his own.

“I don’t know.” Bruce answered honestly “They’re addressed to each of you. I only met Mr. Al Ghul once but he was…intimidating. It’s best to stay on his good side.”

Tim opened his first, the thickest of the bunch with stapled stacks of paperwork.

“It’s all…” Tim squinted at the running numbers on the legal-looking documents. “This one is my paperwork. The paperwork for Tim Drake.” He grimaced at the reminder of his last name. “But this stuff, I’m not…I’m not sure what it is. Business papers?” He held them out to Bruce who took them without hesitation.

He scanned through the first few pages and a smile grew on his face. “Tim. This is proof that your father has been embezzling money from his own company.”

Tim’s smile soon matched Bruce’s in size and he took the paperwork back as though it was fragile. “So this paperwork can-“

“Put him in jail.” Jason finished for him. 

Bruce nodded and tilted his head towards Dick. “Once he’s in jail, you’ll need to have an appointed guardian. A legally appointed guardian.”

“Whoa.” Tim whispered. “Jeez, Damian. Your grandfather is intense.”

“There’s also paperwork in there for your trust.” Bruce added. 

“A trust?” Tim looked back at the paperwork, as though he couldn’t quite fathom all it held, beyond his own freedom. His smile faded. “I don’t want any money from that man.” He said quietly. 

Bruce shook his head. “Your mother set up that trust for you, Tim. It’s from Janet Drake, not Jack Drake. Janet set this up just for you to have access to it.”

“You knew her?” Tim asked, questioning the familiar way Bruce had said her name.

“I did know Janet. She was cold, calculating. She had a truly wicked sense of humor but she was smart, savvy, and too good for your father.” Bruce told Tim firmly.

Tim looked at the paperwork, to Jason, and then back at Bruce. “Okay. Okay then.”

“I’ll look into changing the legal name of a minor.” Bruce promised him. “We’ll figure it out.” 

Jason was already in the process of opening his folder and found a similar stack of papers, down to the ones on the very top. “Shit, mine has all the paperwork for Jason Todd. And…” Jason’s eyes widened and he passed over the papers to Tim.

“He’s not dead. It has Jason Todd as still, legally being alive.” Tim whispered, astounded. “What is everything else?” He asked, pointing to the rest of the paperwork still in the folder.

“It looks like it’s shipping receipts for…kitchen equipment and…” Jason quickly read through the different pieces of paper. “GED books? I think.” He handed the paperwork to Tim and a handwritten note fell out of it. 

“Mr. Todd, now that you are alive again in the eyes of the law, it’s time you finish this degree and, if you wish, use that knowledge to continue your chosen expertise.” Tim read aloud. 

“Well, shit.” Jason sat back in his chair, sorting through the rest of the paperwork, which appeared to be college brochures for schools that specialized in cooking and happened to be the same or close to the universities from which Tim had received admittance.

“And I’m Dick Grayson again.” Dick said quietly. He had opened his folder while Damian was helping Jason and Tim to separate their paperwork. 

Dick closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He hadn’t gone by Dick Grayson in over fifteen years and he hadn’t expected the rush of nostalgia that hit him as he immediately thought of his parents. He felt a pressure on his shoulder and opened his eyes to see Bruce standing next to him, hand on his shoulder, supportively.

“The rest of it?” Tim prompted, scooting his chair closer to Dick.

“It’s…a receipt. He paid my tuition for the police academy.” Dick whispered. “How did he even know? I haven’t mentioned that in years, not since Jason…” Dick trailed off and placed the papers on the table, redirected his attention to the tube. 

They unrolled the poster onto the table, each of the brothers taking a corner and there, in bright green letters announced THE FLYING GRAYSONS, with Dick and his parents printed in silhouette against a spotlight.

“How…” 

“In my experience with, Ra’s, it’s probably best not to ask.” Bruce told them honestly.

Dick looked up from where he was toying with the edges of the Flying Grayson poster. “What did he send you, Damian?”

Damian had moved away from the poster and was just staring at the single piece of paper that had been inside his folder. “An…an island.”

“What?” Tim let Jason take his corner of the poster from him and ran to Damian’s side, where Bruce was already reading through the contents of the sheet.

“He bought me an island and says that he expects to see me eventually but understands if his “idiot daughter’s actions” makes me “less than amenable to the idea in the near future.”” Damian’s eyes were wide and he looked up at Bruce, dumbfounded. 

“That’s…somewhat understanding of him.” Bruce allowed.

“Father. He sent me an island.” Damian waved the paper around pointedly.

“That…actually sounds just like him.” Bruce pressed his fingers between his eyes. He hadn’t realized that someone could get a headache from the amount of relief that had come rushing through their body. 

When he opened his eyes again, Dick was in front of him, the rest of the boys looking through and cataloging each others’ paperwork. Once sure that Bruce was focused, Dick smiled. “Bruce. You were ready to give up everything for Damian. For us.” He said quietly, mind still obviously trapped the stress of the previous day and a half.

“Dick, I-“

“Bruce, just shut up.” Dick looked an arm around Bruce’s neck and drew him in a for a long kiss.

——————————————

Epilogue

——————————————

It had been six months since Dick had his life turned upside-down. They hadn’t yet heard from Damian’s mom and he knew that Bruce suspected that Ra’s was behind that. They were both doing their best not to worry about it though. 

He could already smell breakfast from downstairs where Jason was most likely at the stove with Alfred. At the table, Tim was no doubt finalizing his university forms, sticking tabbed notes on the lines where Dick, as his newly appointed guardian, had to sign. Damian was slyly feeding Titus some bacon was calling out questions from the practice GED test similar to the real one that Jason would be taking in only a week. Just in time for him to follow Tim out to the school that would secure him a job back in Gotham.

And Bruce. Well. No relationship was perfect and Dick was still getting used to not having the weight of the brothers’ worlds on his shoulders. He was determined to give Bruce insight on being a father to Damian almost as much as Bruce was insistent that Dick be involved in any decision regarding Damian. They were a family and it was an ongoing adventure. 

Dick opened his eyes and smiled. He and Bruce were the same actual position they had been in six months ago, with Dick draped across Bruce’s chest and Bruce smiling happily at Dick as he woke up. Similarly to that morning, Dick still maintained that Bruce was comfier than the mattress and told the man just that as he pressed a sleepy kiss to the firm chest.

Bruce just laughed and pulled him closer for a morning kiss.