Chapter Text
Bruce hadn’t exactly sounded frantic but definitely worried if you knew how to read the man (and with that Dick Graysonhad more experience than most people).
Even more worrisome though was, that this seemed to be about Damian and Dick would move heaven and hell for his littlest brother.
Bruce had asked him to meet them in the cave and Dick, having come straight from patrol, was still wearing his Nightwing uniform – Batcave entrance it was then.
Walking into the spacious cave, Dick could immediately tell that something was incredibly wrong.
Alfred was standing near the Batcomputer, a pinched expression on his face and Bruce was seated in front of said computer, furiously typing away at it and still clad in his Batman uniform. Dick was next to him in an instant.
“Where is Damian?” was the first thing coming out of his mouth but Bruce only grunted and jerked his head towards the medbay where Damian was lying on a cot, seemingly asleep.
“What happened?” Dick asked, worry making him sound all business, and hurried over to his brother to check on him.
There was a moment of quiet before Dick turned around towards Bruce again.
“Bruce, what happened? Why does Damian look younger than he did last week and why is he unconscious?”
“He’s simply asleep,” Alfred offered, making his way over. “We had to sedate the young Master but he should wake up again soon if his earlier tolerance towards sedatives is any indication.” “So, he’s not hurt then?” Dick asked, relief flooding his body.
“At least not physically, no,” Alfred replied, checking on Damian’s vitals and Dick was about to ask what that was supposed to mean exactly but Bruce was the one to speak, finally getting up from his chair and walking over to sit on Damian’s bed next to Dick.
Looking at his youngest son he sighed and finally dragged the cowl down before looking at his oldest.
“During patrol we encountered a magic user we hadn’t seen before – in fact I’m still trying to figure out who he is. One of his spells hit Robin and apparently de-aged him. A few years at most apparently but still. Unfortunately, Damian’s memories were also rendered, making him lose all memories from his time in Gotham and after his time in the League. I’m still trying to figure out how much exactly he remembers but he didn’t know me anymore.”
Dick gasped. “He didn’t recognize you??”
Bruce hummed. “Well, no, he recognized me but only because of the stories and lies Talia and Ra’s fed him about me. He didn’t however remember KNOWING me.”
Dick groaned, looking at his baby brother in despair. “So, he doesn’t know who I am either? He won’t remember anything we did together when he wakes up?”
“I’m afraid not but he’ll probably have heard of you from Talia as well.”
“How comforting. So, what are we going to do? It’s reversible, isn’t it?”
Bruce gave another grunt that came as close to shrugging as he’d allow himself. “It’s magic, there’s not much we can do right now. I already contacted Zatanna and am waiting for her to get back to me but she’s apparently very busy right now and won’t be able to check him out directly until she’s back from her current mission.”
“And how long is that gonna take?”
Bruce bristled, clearly annoyed. “I don’t know, Dick! A few weeks maybe? There’s only so much I can do!” Bruce growled, his nerves showing and Dick finally wondered why exactly Bruce had asked him to come as fast as he could in the first place.
Sure, Dick wouldn’t have wanted it any other way because this was about Damian but usually Bruce didn’t take other people’s wants into consideration too much when he was convinced that he could handle a situation by himself.
Which meant that Bruce didn’t think he could handle this situation by himself…
“Why did you call me here?” Dick asked slowly, his hand grabbing Damian’s smaller (and too small) hand on the bed and giving it a light squeeze.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Bruce said dryly, indicating his son’s clasped hands but Dick just raised an eyebrow at him and demonstratively squeezed Damian’s small hand with his other hand as well, because nobody would keep him from comforting or touching his little brothers, thank you very much.
“And why is that?” Dick meant to ask but he was interrupted by a loud gasp and the hand in his grasp being pulled away abruptly.
Dick didn’t even have time to fully turn towards Damian before he felt pain erupt in his left hand and there was a snarling boy right in his face, baring his teeth at him.
“Who do you think you are that you dare to touch me, heathen?” the boy growled, his hand pushing down on the IV-needle he had pulled out of his arm in the blink of an eye only to apparently ram it into Dick’s left hand with a vengeance. Alright, yeah. This explained why Bruce had called him here.
Dick shot his father a withering glare. “A warning would’ve been nice!” he hissed between clenched teeth, managing to finally dislodge Damian enough to pull the needle out of his hand after getting an additional punch in the stomach for it.
Luckily a needle wouldn’t do much damage but it still hurt like a bitch.
“Damian!” Bruce reprimanded but the boy was already on his way to sling his IV-line around Dick’s neck like he was some kind of Christmas tree.
“Oh for- Damian, stop it!“ Bruce snapped, helping Dick wrestle the boy back down onto the bed.
“I knew we should’ve restrained him,” Bruce muttered but Dick only threw him a judgmental look before trying to talk to the boy who was shouting murder threats at him without taking a breath inbetween.
“Damian? Listen, I know this situation is very difficult right now and you don’t recognize me, but-“
A cup of water flew past his head and shattered on the wall behind Dick, the liquid running down the cave wall, “but if you’ll just let us explain, we can tell you everything you want to know-“ Dick caught a fork out of the air before it could embed itself into his eyeball and saw Alfred clearing away the rest of the dishes on the little table next to the bed hurriedly.
“Mother has told me about you, I know who you are,” Damian huffed, looking at Dick like he was something disgusting sticking to the underside of his shoe.
“Well, that’s… good. But I’m sure she hasn’t told you everything and-“
“Are you calling my mother a liar?” Damian hissed, searching for a way to escape the tight grasp Bruce and Dick had on him.
“Let me GO!!” “We’ll let you go if you start being reasonable and stop attacking us,” Bruce said calmly, his eye twitching and Dick wondered not for the first time this evening what had happened before Dick had arrived.
Damian stilled for a second before fighting again with all the vigor of a tiger going nuts at the zoo.
“Just listen-," Dick said but was interrupted by an angry cry from the boy when Bruce injected something into Damian’s arm, looking almost sorry.
It only took thirty seconds for Damian to succumb to the sedative again and Dick could finally take a breath, rubbing his arms that were now covered in bruises (as was his chest) from Damian’s struggle.
“Bruce, we can’t keep sedating him every time he wakes up,” he finally said. “I know. We should fixate him next time.” “That’s- that’s not what I meant. I meant that we need something to get him to calm down-“ “We did calm him down,” Bruce interjected. “I meant without drugging him, for God’s sake!” Dick shouted.
“We need a strategy to get him to listen. Maybe something that doesn’t seem to strange to him because it validates what Talia told him, making us look less suspicious.” “Yes.” “You’re not going to be much help with that, are you?” Dick frowned, looking at Bruce who was already making his way over to the changing rooms. “I called you, didn’t I?” Bruce replied before disappearing towards the shower.
Dick glowered after him. “I think that Master Bruce is very aware of his limitations when it comes to sensitive interactions,” Alfred said a little sorrowful.
“But Damian is HIS son,” Dick shouted throwing his hands into the air in a disbelieving gesture. “He can’t just LEAVE ME with Damian. Again.”
Alfred gave a sigh of his own: “I agree, Master Dick and I will talk to him but I do think that you’re Master Damian’s best shot at getting used to the situation at hand right now. You’ve done it before.“
The butler smiled at him before adding: “I will be upstairs preparing some chocolate cookies. You can never go wrong with those.”
Later that day:
It's thanks to his fast reflexes that the thrown dagger embeds itself into the back of the couch instead of, you know, Tim’s heart. “Motherf- What is wrong with you???” Tim yells, throwing his laptop aside and pulling the knife out of the couch but the little demon had already disappeared back down the hall.