Archive of Our Own ^beta

“What a mess.”

Dick couldn’t help but agree. Five bullet riddled bodies filled the empty lot. Blood soaked the dirt, the scent of iron in the humid air. Not a single siren headed this way. Though that was less surprising, it was the Narrows after all. He was only here because Oracle spotted the bodies via security cam.

“Looks like our shooter is long gone.” Nightwing crouched by the closest body, a man in a black zip-up hoodie. Numbers popped up on his domino HUD as it scanned. “About an hour by the looks of it. And without a trace.”

“Find some casings and I’ll get you a trace, Boy Wonder.”

“Aw, you’d do that for me, O?” Careful to avoid the dark pools, Dick tread carefully across the litter covered ground. A yawn welled in him but he quickly stifled it. He desperately needed sleep after being awake for 32 hours. And a shower. And food.

“Wanna get dinner after this?”

“Mmm, tempting but I have plans with a little thing called sleep. Also weird time to talk about food.”

“But not the worst! That award goes to Spoiler.” Deep footprints indicated someone large and heavy, boots planted in the slightly muddy ground as they fired. And then...fell? Were dragged? That was the imprint of a sixth body, faint drag marks, but no blood. 

“Facial scans came back. All of them have records for theft, B&E, gang fights. Two were picked up working for Freeze, Two-Face for the others.”

“So the usual low-level goon resume.” Metal glinted by a crushed soda can and he snatched it up. “Scanning it in for you.” Barbara hummed her thanks. Then said nothing. For too long. Babs was usually faster than this. “Oracle?”

“Nightwing.” She sighed, “I think I know who our shooter is.”

“And?”

“It’s Red Hood.”

“No.” Dick replied without missing a beat.

“His tracker pinged four blocks from you over an hour ago before he went offline. He hasn’t come back online since then.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” Dick argued stubbornly. But dammit, it...it couldn’t be Jason. “We're close to his patrol route. And he goes offline all the time for privacy.”

“We both know Hood doesn’t have a problem with permanent solutions. And Batman left for business meetings literally halfway across the world this week. Maybe he decided to clean house.”

“But some hired thugs? He wouldn’t break the code for this. They’re not worth it.” Dick rubbed his jaw as his head began to throb. “There’s an imprint of a sixth body. What if it was Hood? What if he was lured here?”

“That’s a lot of conjecture.”

It was. But Dick needed to give him the benefit of the doubt. Jason was getting along with the family, coming around the manor more, able to make it through a meal without a huge argument. As much as he tried to hide it, Jason cared about them. Would he really throw it all away? Like this? 

“Does he have a safehouse near here?”

“Pretty sure this is the address. He usually goes offline before he gets there but he slipped up one time and his tracker sat there for three hours.”

“Thanks, O.” Dick fired his grapple, shooting up to the rooftops as sirens finally echoed through the streets. 

“Nightwing…" Barbara sighed, "I hope you’re right.”

“Me too.”

***

The address brought him to two dilapidated buildings and based on what Dick knew of Jason’s other safehouses (besides the nicer one near the Bowery that Jason reluctantly took him too after a patrol gone wrong) he chose to cautiously approach the more worn down of the two.

“Hood?” He called softly, easing the rusty door open. Wires told him there was security but no alarm went off. Dick stepped in slowly with his hands raised. The large room, concrete and bare, was barely illuminated by city lights leaking through grimy windows. “Anyone home?”

A gun cocked. Dick froze. “Don’t move.” Red Hood stepped out into a patch of light, Glock leveled at Dick’s chest. But there was no helmet. Or domino. A barefaced Jason glared at him. Fresh blood welled on his skinned cheekbone and chin. Dried blood, dark and flaking, matted his hair and forehead and trailed down his neck.

Dick’s heart sank. He took an instinctive step forward. “Hood–”

“I said don’t move!” Jason snapped. “I didn’t kill them.”

“I’m not–”

“They were already dead when I woke up! I didn’t kill them!” There was a hint of desperation in Jason’s shout, glare fading into something more vulnerable. “Leave or else I’ll shoot, I swear I’ll shoot ‘Wing! You’re not taking me in for something I didn’t do –”

“I believe you.” Dick interrupted in a rush. “I don’t think you killed them either.”

Fragile silence fell as Jason stared at him, lips parted, eyes wide. It made him look young. Brought a foreign innocence to his face that hurt to look at. “You do?” He breathed at last.

“Yes and I didn’t come here to fight. I came here to see if you were alright. Which you’re not.” Dick took an experimental step forward. When Jason slowly lowered the gun, still looking shocked, he hurried to his brother’s side. “You’re shaking.”

“Whatever they shot me up with.” At last Jason let his guard down and swayed on his feet. He went surprisingly easily when Dick dragged him to a rickety cot along the wall. “Felt like my head was stuffed with cotton balls.”

“You have a light in here?” A metal lockbox sat by the bed and Dick dug through it, grabbing what he hoped was a first aid kit.

“Yeah, it’s a clapper.” Dick cast a skeptical look at his brother who laughed weakly. “Ah shit, you’re no fun. Switch is on the center column.”

“Tell me what you remember.” Weak yellow bulbs flickered to life, barely giving enough light to their corner. And revealing the rest of the meager safehouse: a crate with a propane burner on it, half a case of bottled water, and another locked box Dick guessed was filled with guns and ammo. “Jesus, Jay, you live like this? You don’t even have a table in here.”

“I don’t live here.” Jason snorted. “Now shut up and listen. I was on patrol, usual route, when I heard gunshots. Detoured to take a peek from above and the fucker clobbered me over the head. Broke my helmet.” He pointed to the gash above his brow, the source of his bloody forehead. It definitely needed stitches.

Dick twisted open a bottle of water, wet a cloth from the first aid bag, and began cleaning off the blood, starting with the white streak. Seeing it splattered with red made his chest feel hollow. “And you went down?”

“Nah, put up a fight.” Jason slumped against the wall, eyes closed as Dick cleaned his forehead the best he could. His hands were trembling less. “Got a reputation to maintain. They shoved me face first on the roof and stuck me with a needle. That’s when I went down. Woke up in the dirt covered with blood and shells. Hightailed it as soon as I could walk.”

“Any idea who framed you? Or might want to? And ‘they’? Were there multiple people?” Dick moved to the raw scrapes on Jason’s face. Despite being gentle, Jason sucked a sharp breath through his teeth. “Sorry.”

“‘s okay. And no. Haven’t pissed off anyone big lately. I think. There were at least three people that helped hold me down. But why not beat me senseless? Why set all of that up only to let me leave?”

“So I could find it. Or one of the other Robins.”

“They were betting on you blaming me.” 

“Maybe.”

Jason opened his eyes, hesitantly meeting Dick’s. “Did you? Even for a moment?” The question sounded like it was being dragged from him against his will.

“No.” Dick shook his head. “Call me a naive optimist if you want but...you seem happier lately, at the manor, around us. I couldn’t see why you’d risk it like this.”

Jason held his gaze for another long moment before looking away. A muscle jumped in his cheek. “But if it were a notable kill, some who deserved it instead of nobodies, this would be a different story, huh?”

“Did I say that?” Dick whispered sadly.

He shrugged half-heartedly. “Maybe you don’t have to.”

“Jay–”

“It’s fine Dickie, I’m just–I’m messing with you. I…” He ran a finger over the bandage now taped to his cheek, staring distantly at an empty corner. “Thanks...for believing me.”

Dick squeezed his arm before standing. “I’m gonna update O. Then we need to move. We’re still too close to the scene. And you need stitches.”

***

The twin roar of motorcycles filled the cave. Dick looked up from the Batcomputer. Red Robin came speeding in first, followed closely by Robin. 

"Whoa, someone got you good." Tim yanked his helmet off and ruffled his flattened hair. “How’re you feeling, Jase?”

"Peachy keen, Timbitha!" Jason thrust a thumbs up in the air from the medical table he was laying on.

"Master Jason! How many times must I tell you to stop moving!" Alfred swatted him lightly. Only when Jason was still again, face blank, did Alfred continue stitching the gash.

"What happened to Todd?" Damian peered at the table as if he were inspecting meat at the deli. Muttering something about a zoo, Jason tried to kick him away which earned another smack on the shoulder from Alfred.

“Leave him alone Dames, he was just framed for five murders." Dick turned to Tim. "He'll be fine." With a satisfied nod, Tim headed to the changing rooms, peeling off equipment. After another sharp look from Dick, Damian followed with a grumble. 

By the time Alfred finished stitching and bandaging the cut, both boys disappeared into the manor, thankfully without any spats. Squabbling siblings was the last thing he wanted tonight. 

"Do try and avoid aggravating the stitches for a bit."

"No sarcastic eyebrows. Got it." Jason hopped off the table and clapped Alfred on the shoulder. "Thanks Alfie."

"Have you remembered anything else about tonight?" Dick leaned back in the desk chair and ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it in frustration. “Besides ‘Got bonked over the head then shot up with a not so special cocktail of drugs’? Because that’s getting us nowhere fast.”

With a shrug, Jason slouched against the desk beside him and read through the notes. He was still wearing his dirty uniform, unlike Dick who’d changed once they got to the cave. But even with his face and hair clean, the image of him bloody and stunned was burned into Dick’s mind. He’d looked...hopeful. And fragile. As if he would’ve shattered like glass if Dick recanted his belief. It wasn’t how he was used to seeing Jason behave.

"Not anything useful. They were in all black, faces covered, normal brawlers with no distinctive fighting style. Besides, any idiot who lives in Gotham knows that the Narrows are my territory, I use guns, and used to kill while Bats doesn't. Two plus two, man."

"’All of lower Gotham’ isn’t exactly a precise suspects list." With a sigh, Dick shut the computer down and headed for the stairs. "With the effort they put in this time, I think it's safe to assume they might try again. Maybe you should patrol with–"

"Abso-fucking-lutely not!" Jason cut him off. "If I have one of the bat brats on my tail, my reputation is toast. Bad enough that I got jumped tonight."

"Oh please, we've teamed up plenty. Grown men still piss themselves when they see you." 

"Because I put in the work to make sure they do." Jason shook his head and sucked his teeth at him. "Honestly, Dickie. It's like you've never worked a job before." 

"Let's compromise." Dick leaned over the railing and looked down at Jason. Being persistent was one of his strengths and he wasn't letting this go. "No tag along but you keep your tracker active at all times. Just for a week or two so we can be sure."

"Seriously?" With a snort, Jason wheeled around and headed to the dressing rooms. A silent concession. "What's the big deal? It's just me."

"Exactly. And you're my brother." Dick said. Then he took off before Jason could steal back the last word.

He would’ve preferred to have some kind of lead. Better yet, a name and a plan. Being stuck like this, waiting for a next time, if next time ever happened, was torture. Being impulsive and figuring it out as he went was something Dick was comfortable doing on his own. Maybe if he was on a team like the Titans. But right now...it felt like tossing Jason into shark infested waters as bait. It felt wrong.

But he was doing what he could, Dick reminded himself as he walked into the kitchen. A sandwich was waiting on the table next to Tim who was holding half of his own in one hand and scrolling on his laptop with the other. 

“That’s for you.” Tim nodded at the plate.

“God bless Alfred.” Dick slumped into the wooden chair, biting into the sandwich immediately. Heavenly was the only way to describe it. “Homework?” Tim nodded, eyes glued to the screen. “Need help?”

“Thanks but it’s already done, just giving it a final review.”

“That’s my baby Einstein.” Dick nudged him with a grin. Rolling his eyes, Tim bit back a smile of his own. “Where’s Damian?”

“Retired to his room with Titus and an easel. He requested he not be disturbed for the night.” Alfred announced as he walked in. “Master Todd’s room has been prepared as well.” 

The soft and peaceful sound of cutlery descended over the kitchen as the boys ate. Homework and dinner. It felt like any other night, as normal as their crazy lives got. Except all his brothers were under the same roof and not fighting–yet–which made Dick treasure the moment a little more. 

Alfred set down another sandwich with a cup of tea, wished them both a goodnight, and left. Not even a minute later, Jason sauntered in. “Why does Bruce have twice the amount of clothes in the changing room as the rest of you? Boss getting greedy?” 

“Because you and B wear the same size.” Tim answered around a mouthful of food. 

Jason’s meandering walk faltered. It felt like watching a computer glitch. The briefest blip, just barely catching the eye, before all was normal again. So fast, Dick wondered if he imagined it. Jason’s eyes flickered to Dick, as if checking to see if Tim was telling the truth, that Bruce thought about him and made sure there was still a place for him. Dick nodded. 

Rolling his shoulders uncomfortably, Jason reached for the other half of Tim’s sandwich, “You hacking Timbers?”

Tim blocked his hand without looking before scooping it up. “Submitting homework.” He said then closed the laptop with a snap. “And goodnight. Read me in on any plans tomorrow.”

“Will do.” Dick called as Jason sat heavily in the chair, sipping the tea left for him. “You doing alright?” A one-shouldered shrug was the only response Dick got and still more than he expected. “I’m headed to bed too. Alfred made up your room and you know where I am if you need anything.” Not that Jason would ask but it never hurt to offer. To keep that avenue open. 

Dick was almost at the kitchen door before Jason cleared his throat. “About what I said earlier, at the safehouse…”

He turned to see Jason staring intently into his cup. Please don’t let this be a fight, I’m too tired. “You were upset.” he said in a quiet voice, “I understand.”

Jason’s head snapped up. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you when you’re just trying to help! I was being a-a–”

“Just say it.”

“I was being a dick.” He finished and they both smiled. He looked like he wanted to say more but his jaw clenched, and Dick knew he wasn't ready yet.

“I forgive you, Little Wing.” Dick put as much sincerity into his words and tired smile as he could. A bit of tension faded from Jason’s shoulders, jaw relaxing. “Go get some rest.”

***

They were wrapping up another long patrol, scattered across the city like usual. And since Bruce left Dick in charge, he did the classic end-of-night roll call. Like usual. 

“Robin. Bowery, headed in.”

“Hello warden. Is getting an updated feed of my location every waking moment not enough?” Snark like usual. Honestly, Dick didn’t know why he expected anything different.

“You made it a whole day and a half without complaining.” Rolling his eyes, Dick landed on a rooftop. His knee was smarting again, annoying zips of pain shooting through the joint. Probably should’ve turned in earlier but he couldn’t leave his brothers out here. “Proud of you.”

“Your approval fills me with boundless joy, oh great golden one. Red Hood, heading in.”

Dick waited another minute before letting himself worry. Tim was normally prompt with roll calls even if he was busy, which he probably was. Gotham was running low on Bats this week. But WE needed Bruce. And Steph, Cass, and Duke needed that Miami vacation.

“Red Robin, East End.” There was Tim’s upbeat voice at last. The night must be going well for him. “Wrapping up a case. Heading in after.”

“I’m passing through,” Wind whipped through his hair as Dick dropped off the building and flew leisurely through the night. “Maybe I’ll catch up with you.” So far it's been quiet. No moves made on Jason, no mysterious hits in the Narrows. Just the usual sights and smells of the city. Though it had only been two days. Too early for an all clear. Counting eggs in baskets and all that. 

The only mystery was Jason being oddly subdued, not saying much aside from his usual sarcastic bluster even when all four of them were together. He simply hovered by the edge of the room and...observed. Dick could only guess he was still shaken by the other night. Or angry. Or not used to being around the three of them for so long. Or he was fine. It was hard to tell once his walls went up. 

Normally Dick was good at reading people but with Jason...a wrong read could result in disaster. Better to wait until it was clearer or Jason said something himself. Until then Dick would simply enjoy having his brother around a little bit more.

"Be my guest." Tim chuckled. "I'm almost–" He cut off suddenly, sucking in a sharp breath. "What? No, no, no, this isn't right!"

Fear coiled around Dick's chest. "What's going on? Robin?" He started moving faster towards his little brother, sprinting across rooftops and ignoring the sharper pains in his knee.

But Tim was in his own world, the anxiety in his voice kicking Dick’s into high gear. "That should've worked, why isn't it working? I was right! No–" 

Light flashed up into the sky. The roar of the explosion hit next, rumbling through the neighborhood. Dick slid to a stop on the shaking rooftop, eyes fixed to the leaping flames blocks away from him. “Red Robin, tell me you’re not in there.” No reply. “Robin!”

There was a gasp that sounded too much like a sob. “I–I need help! Oh God, there were people in there!”

Dick dove into the night without a second thought. “I’m coming.” 

“On my way, Red.” Jason answered just as quickly. Which was surprising and Dick felt terrible for thinking it.

“Are you hurt?” Dick questioned, “Were you in the building?” The ruined remains of a four-story apartment building loomed before him now. No one was in the street lined with shuttered commercial businesses. Odd spot for a single apartment building.

“No, I was down the block. I...I was right, I don’t understand!” 

Across the street a red helmet glinted in the firelight. “Nightwing, get the kid, I’ll check the building.”

“Right.” Adjusting course, Dick landed beside Robin who was sprinting towards the fire. “Whoa, stop. Hood is checking it out–”

“I need to help!” There were tears in his voice. Tim shrugged Dick’s hands off, shoved past him desperately as he pulled out his rebreather. "It's my fault!"

“You need to stay here and let me make sure you’re alright!” Before Tim could slip away, Dick seized his arm and tapped his lenses up. Red eyes swung around. Guilt twisted Tim’s face. That was an easy thing to read, a feeling Dick was all too familiar with. “More bodies in there won’t help!”

Tim made a frustrated noise. “I’m telling you I’m fine! Let me go!”

“Maybe you’re not hurt but you don’t sound fine. You’re one breath away from a panic attack! You go in there like this and we'll be dragging your body out too!”

“You sure there were people in here, Red?” Jason panted over the coms.

"I could see them!" Tim struggled in Dick’s arms. "Three by a third floor window alone."

“I’m on the third floor. Or what used to be the third floor. No bodies so far. And lookie here, this sign says ‘condemned’.” 

"What?" Tim and Dick chorused. 

“Get out of there, Hood.” Dick said. His helmet might have filters but Jason was pushing his luck. Tim stared dumbstruck at the rubble, not reacting as Dick lowered his lenses. “Was the bomb already planted or did you see someone detonate it?”

“It was on a timer.” Tim swallowed thickly. “It said...the recording said there were families living there.”

“Let’s figure it out at the cave, okay?” He wrapped an arm around Tim’s waist and hauled him into the air. They needed to get out of the open, somewhere safe so he could understand what happened.

Jason was waiting for them, helmet tucked under his arm and stinking of smoke. He took a step forward when they landed on the roof, frown visible even beneath his domino. “You good Babybird?” 

Tim shook his head morosely. "You're sure no one was in there?” 

“Positive.” He clapped Tim on the shoulder then shoved the helmet back on. “Let's get the hell out of here.”

When they finally trudged into the cave, the Batcomputer chair spun around to reveal Damian still in his suit sans mask. Green eyes quickly took them in, assessing. Satisfied, Damian’s face quickly shifted to a slightly more impassive look as he lifted his chin. “What on earth happened, Drake?”

“It was Riddler!” Tim exploded, words tumbling and tripping over each other and waving his hands around. “Or a copycat because the clues were almost the same and leading me to a bomb. And this was exactly the same as before. If I solved the final riddle then the bomb would be deactivated! I did it before! I got it right then! And this was the exact same question and I entered the right answer but it…” He sucked in a deep breath, calming himself, "it went off anyway and I really thought I'd killed all those people."

“Riddler is still in Arkham.” Damian reported, pulling up security footage and guard logs. 

"And I found melted mannequins in the same spot you saw silhouettes." A hollow clang rang out as Jason set his helmet down on a table. Bruises and dark scabs dotted his face. "You were set up, Timbers. That bomb would've gone off no matter what you did. And if Dickie didn’t stopped you–" 

"I probably would've killed myself searching." Tim's shoulders slumped, folding in on himself. "I walked right into it. Should've known better. Dammit." 

"We all slip up. C'mere kiddo." Dick pulled him into a hug and Tim sank into it. All of his brothers were capable of holding their own. Dick knew that. But the knowledge did nothing to soothe the pain he felt when they were hurt or distressed. And it didn't silence the worried thoughts about what might have happened to Tim if they didn’t arrive in time…. 

"The questions are: who set him up? And why would they copy Riddler?” With one last squeeze, he let Tim go. The boy drifted over to the table Jason was sitting on and hopped up next to him.

"Perhaps Drake's set up and Todd's framing are connected." Damian offered. "Afterall, they did happen back to back."

Dick frowned. "Tim's was a copycat. Jay's–"

"Could've been a copycat too." Jason admitted, clearing his throat. "I think I had a five on one brawl a couple weeks ago. Maybe in the Narrows, can't remember."

An odd sense of dread settled in Dick’s gut. "Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Because it was nothing, Goldie! Just some dealers who hung around schools and the community center. Usual shit I clean up. Plus we weren’t looking for repeats.”

Stifling a sigh, Dick nudged the chair, and Damian, over and began typing. “Let's pull up your patrol feed and double check. Tim, hit the showers, get some tea, relax.”

“I’m helping.” Tim stubbornly crossed his arms. “You can’t push me off this case. Not when it involves me.”

“Tt. You can’t proclaim your way to usefulness, Drake.”

This time Dick did sigh. “Not tonight you two, please.” As much as he loved his little brothers, they were still his little brothers and pressed his buttons like they were experts playing Dance Dance Revolution. “I don’t care if this bickering is a comfort thing, cope in a different way. For example, getting dinner or neither of you will touch a case file.”

Laughing under his breath, Jason watched the two boys obediently trudge off. “Someone’s snippy tonight.”

“Was I too harsh? I was probably too harsh.”

“They’ll live. Better you scold them than me.” Jason slouched in the newly vacant computer chair, pointing at the screen. “There, Wednesday night. Check around midnight.”

“Nothing like a midweek beat down, huh?”

“You should try it.” Grinning, Jason kicked his feet up on the desk and laced his hands behind his head. “Soothes the soul, Dickiebird.”

Sure enough, they watched a video of Red Hood thoroughly cleaning the floor with the five dealers, leaving them unconscious in an abandoned construction lot. Dick paused the feed, pulling up his own footage from the other night. They both sucked in a breath.

“Fucking creepy.” Jason muttered, mouth pressed in a tight line as he sat forward. The bodies were meticulously arranged in the same way in both scenes. And Dick wondered if he ran forensics, if the fatal shots would match the bruises from the rubber bullets. Maybe he would later tonight. “So this nut job is after Tim too?”

“Looks like it.” Hanging his head, Dick leaned against the desk, desperately wracking his brain for ideas. “Shared enemies?”

“Besides the Demon Brat? None that would do this. Which leads me to the question, what is this? What’s the point?” Jason waved a hand at the videos as Dick began pulling up Tim’s footage. “Alienating me I can understand but Tim? Batman 2.0? It would take a lot more than one slip up. He didn’t even have a body count tonight. I did.”

They stared at the screen in silence as Dick froze Tim’s footage. Two identical questions and threats but only similar devices. A bomb with no casualties. A lot littered with bodies. No connections.

“Maybe they have a thing for red.” 

Jason jumped, the entire chair jolting, as Tim appeared behind him. “Christ, Timbers! I’m old! You can’t do that sneaky shit!” 

Snickering, he handed a plate to Jason. “Alfred said if you eat one more protein bar only meal, he’ll come down here and force feed you himself.”

“Tyrant.” Jason mumbled around the wrap he was already biting into. At Tim's words, Dick turned to fix Jason with a disapproving look but the other man was faster. "Say one word Dick and I'll make sure I end up with a body count tonight."

Damian handed a plate of the same to Dick. “It stands to reason that either they will attack Todd and Drake again or that Richard and I are next.”

“But how do you prepare against something like this?” Tim squinted at the screen, scrutinizing the footage. “Random events being repeated but with a different outcome. Maybe that’s the goal? To alter the outcome? Positive and negative.”

“Still impossible to plan for. Way too many options and variables.” Dick said.

“Unless we create new scenarios that can’t be replicated.” All eyes swung to Tim. “Jason had a fight in the same neighborhood before and it’s along his patrol route. I followed the trail of clues without a second thought because I’d done it before. But if we swap routes or don’t repeat even vaguely similar missions, how can any scenarios be recreated?”

Jason barked a laugh. “Yeah! I’d like to see Nightwing or Red Robin take the Narrows for a night! They’ll chew you up and spit you out.”

Dick fixed him with a withering look. “I’ve lived in Blüdhaven, Jase.”

“Drake’s idea is clever. I’m willing to go along with it if it means no partners.” Now all eyes were on Damian who immediately scowled back. “What?”

“Nobody says anything.” Dick pointed at Tim and Jason threateningly. They both clamped their mouths shut. “Let‘s just enjoy the moment.”

Nodding quickly, Tim gave him a thumbs up before hurrying to the stairs. “You’re lucky we like you.” Jason grinned as he clapped Dick hard on the arm and bounded up the stairs after Tim, their laughter echoing as the door closed behind them.

“Tt.” Damian turned to Dick, arms crossed. “I don’t get it.”

***

Later that night, Dick knocked softly on a bedroom door. “Come in.” Tim called. He was sitting crossed legged on the floor surrounded by loose photos. Two boxes sat beside him, one with albums and the other with more photos and film canisters. He glanced up when Dick gently closed the door behind him. “Oh hey. Need something?”

“Nope, just checking on you. What’s all this?” Dick sat down across from him and picked up a stack of photos. One was an early Batarang model embedded in a tree, sunrise in the distance. Another was of Bruce hunched on a gargoyle in an old Batsuit. The others were more recent: Teen Titans in plainclothes and crowded together on a pier, Bruce and Damian teaching Titus tricks in the backyard, Dick and Tim kayaking.

“Old photos I never got around to organizing.” He flipped through an album filled with old photos-Dick spotted several of himself as Robin-until he reached a blank page and began carefully writing a date before slipping a photo into the slot. It was a shot of Jason during his Robin years, cape flaring as he leapt into the Batmobile. Light and carefree. And with a smile that made Dick's chest ache.

“It’s been fun having Jase around, hasn’t it?” Tim asked, both of them still looking wistfully at the photo. But when he looked up at Dick, there was a gleam of hopeful enthusiasm in his eyes, the kind that was so perfectly Tim. “He’s pretty nice when he wants to be. I...actually think I'd like it if he hung around after we wrap this case up.” 

That was a phrase he never expected Tim to utter and Dick barely stopped himself from saying as much. Instead he hummed in agreement and set his photos back down. “Yeah, so would I. So...how are you doing?”

“I’m fine.” Another date and photo.

“Somehow I don’t believe you.”

Tim slipped a photo in with a slow sigh. “I know I freaked out earlier but I’m calm now. This,” he motioned at the organized chaos around him, “helps settle me.”

“Good but that’s still not what I’m asking about.” Because Tim knew what he was getting at. His avoidance only solidified that.

Biting his lip, Tim finally looked up from the album. “What if...it was real, Dick? What if it hadn't been a trap and I actually killed all those people? I’m not lying, I am calm, but...I keep running scenarios in my head. It all comes down to one thing, me. My fault.” 

Of course Tim would blame himself. The kid was so eager to always prove himself, always show Dick and Bruce they made the right decision letting him wear the mantle. Always carrying too much on his young shoulders.

“We all make mistakes, Timbo.” Dick grabbed his wrist and squeezed. “I’ve made plenty, so has Bruce, including ones that cost lives. But tonight wasn’t a mistake on your part. You did everything right.”

“But I could’ve been better.” Growing more agitated, Tim pulled his hand away. “I’ve led the Teen Titans! Ra’s calls me Detective! Bruce said I could be a better Batman than him one day! I could’ve triggered alarms to evacuate the building or call for backup or even try cutting wires. I should’ve done more!”

“Sure. And the alarms might have been disabled, backup might have been too slow, or there could’ve been a secondary detonator triggered by cut wires. Even if we do everything right, at the end of the day we’re fighting insane criminals. Sometimes even our best isn’t enough to overcome their traps.” 

Gently, Dick clasped Tim’s face in his hands, tilting his head up to look him in the eyes. Pale blue eyes met his, swimming with sadness. “You did good, Tim." He said softly, "Red Robin did good. And you’ll keep doing good, as Red Robin or Tim Drake. So who cares what people think, least of all Ra’s al Ghul?”

Shoulders slumping, Tim tipped forward into Dick’s arms. “You forgot the hyphen.”

“Excuse me, Lord Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne,” Dick chuckled, black hair tickling his cheek as he held his little brother tight, “but I would never forget the hyphen. It just messed with the cadence of my eloquent speech.”

Laughing, Tim sat back. “Thanks, Dick.”

“Anytime. We all need reminders.” 

“Like you need a reminder to rest?” Dick raised an eyebrow innocently and Tim scoffed as he began to pick up photos. “You’ve been going non-stop since you brought Jason home. Damian said you were up early this morning looking at case files.”

“Speaking of, how are you two doing? Getting along?” Dick asked, seizing the out. 

Rolling his eyes, Tim humored him. “Getting better. Damian’s been reaching out more which is surprising. We’re going to a modern art exhibition next week.”

Dick grinned wide. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.” He began carefully putting the stacks of photos away. “He draws, I take pictures, we both like laughing at weird art. I don’t judge how you and Jason bond!”

“We bonded by beating the shit out of each other on the training mats.” Dick laughed. “And I bought him food after school. Also, not judging! Just surprised.”

“I think B would like our bonding much more.” Tim closed up the boxes and carried them to his closet before spinning to point a finger at Dick. “Anyway, we were talking about you, not me.”

“Don’t worry about me, twerp!” Stretching leisurely, Dick headed to the door. “I can handle myself.” 

***

Tim ended up patrolling the Narrows while Dick took his route. Without even asking, his brothers kept periodically checking in, announcing their locations. A whole night passed that way, not one odd thing happening (aside from the strange slam poetry reciting thief Damian took care of).

They shuffled again the next night with the same success. And even though Dick stayed up instead of sleeping, going through lists of all their enemies, searching for a similar MO, combing through what little evidence he went back and gathered from the scenes, there were still no leads. They couldn’t keep this up forever. Eventually they would have to repeat a route and then what?

And why did it take a new villain to bring them together? Because he enjoyed the impromptu movie night that happened after Jason and Damian wandered into the media room, making snide commentary together while Tim hogged the popcorn and fell asleep on Dick’s shoulder even though he picked the movie. That was the one part of this fiasco Dick didn’t want to end. He missed having his brothers all together.

The spring air was cool tonight with a faint breeze. Standing on the lip of a water tower, Dick took a deep breath, washing away the tumbling thoughts. A familiar strain swelled in his chest that meant exhaustion. It seemed a little extra sleep wasn’t doing the trick this time. He needed true rest. But there wasn’t time yet.

With a tight backflip Dick leapt, firing his line at the last moment and swooping low through the street. As if to prove to himself he could. Mid-flip, his com beeped as a private channel opened.

“Nightwing, it’s Hood. They got Robin.”

Dick almost crashed into a fire escape. “What happened?” He demanded, grabbing the rusted metal. “Where? Is he alright?”

“He’s not hurt. He...just go there. Alone. I’m on my way but he needs you more. I’ll tell Red in a bit.”

He wanted to protest and argue. Why shouldn’t he warn Tim now? But the edge in Jason’s voice made him agree, racing silently to the coordinates he was sent. Horrors flashed through his mind. Damian wasn’t hurt. So why did Jason sound like that? What wasn’t he telling him?

One possibility rang sharper than the rest, sending chills through Dick. Anything but that, please.

“Robin?” Nightwing landed lightly in the dark alley, escrima at the ready. A small scraping noise grabbed his attention further down. Huddled against the brick wall was Damian, hugging his knees tight to his chest. Dick rushed to him, dropping to his knees on the grimy pavement. “Hey, hey, I’m here now. Hood sent me.”

Damian’s head snapped up. “Did he tell you? I didn’t mean to, I promise! I swear on my life! You have to believe me!”

“What happened kiddo?” Dick whispered, knowing he was hoping against hope at this point.

A shaking hand pointed down the dark alley at a body splayed in a puddle. “I didn’t mean to kill him.” Damian pleaded. Dick’s heart plummeted.

“Ok, I believe you.” Swallowing hard, he squeezed his brother’s trembling shoulders. Keep it together Grayson, he needs you. “I’m going to check his vitals.”

“Already did.” Came the miserable response. “They’re...I...Father is going to hate me.” And as his chin wobbled, mouth twisting, a tear sliding down Damian’s cheek.

“No.” Dick said firmly. He wiped the tear away, tilting Damian’s face up. Pain seared through him because Damian never cried in front of them. That was still too much weakness to show, still too vulnerable for this little fighter. “He won’t hate you. I don’t hate you.”

“But I broke the code! He’ll take Robin away!”

Dick didn’t have a response to that. Not yet at least. “What happened?” He asked again.

“He was setting up a sniper nest. We fought on the rooftop.” Damian reported, “He hit my head and I kicked him away blindly and...he fell over the edge.”

“So it was an accident–”

“I didn’t even try to catch him. I stood and watched him fall. As if I were still with the League. As if I wanted him to die.” He looked down at his knees again, body still shaking. “I’m sorry.” 

“I know.” Dick whispered, hugging him as best he could because he wasn’t sure what else to say or do. Robin let a man fall to his death. Was this the copycat? Or old habits rearing their head?

Rage suddenly blazed through Dick, consuming every fiber. He couldn't tell if it was directed at the copycat, the League, or something else. All he knew was that Damian was trying so hard to be his own person and shed the expectations he was born into. Only for this dark reminder to appear. As if to say this was all he would ever be. 

And it would be a cold day in hell before Dick let anyone say that to any of his brothers.

A soft woosh announced Red Robin’s arrival. “I saw Robin’s tracker hadn’t moved in a while and was on my way to check when Hood called.” Tim explained, taking in the scene. Making a low noise, Damian buried his face in his arms.

“Can you stay with Robin?” Dick glanced up at Tim. “I need to check something.” With a nod, Tim sat beside Damian, asking in a quiet voice if he was hurt. Still reeling, Dick ran a hand through his hair as he walked to the body. He needed to see and confirm for himself. After all, Tim’s bodies turned out to be mannequins. Maybe they’d get lucky again.

The muddy puddle was swirled with red and Dick edged around it before crouching and feeling for a pulse. Nothing. He pressed harder, as if he could revive the man with sheer stubbornness. Still nothing.

Grimly, he began cataloguing injuries. Marks from punches and kicks, a slice from a Batarang that was tainting the puddle, scrapes from gravel. But no fatal trauma. 

“Hey.” Red Hood crouched beside him, voice low and synthesized. “What’s it look like?”

“You mean did he do it?” He glanced back at Damian and Tim sitting side by side. Tim had a hand on Damian's shoulder, saying something to the boy who was lifting his head just enough to look him in the eye. “He kicked him over but I’m not convinced that’s why he died. It was a three story fall but he knew how to fall. Look at his landing. There’s no major trauma either.”

“And chemical residue.” Jason tilted the man’s chin up, looking closer at his mouth. “Kid mention any of this?” Dick shook his head and Jason grunted quietly. “Weird. What was he doing when Rob found him?”

“Sniper’s nest.”

“On a three story building? With bad vantage points?” He snorted. “No fucking way. Robin should know better. The League trained us better. This is no sniper.”

Pieces clicked into place and Dick leapt to his feet. It explained the shaking, the tears, the missed clues. God, how did he miss it? Emotions. Stupid mistake. He rushed back to Damian. “Robin, did you make any physical move at all when the man fell?”

He made a frustrated noise. “I told you, I attempted to but I–I couldn’t. It was as if my League training–”

“It’s not that. Stand up.” Both boys frowned at him but Damian pushed himself up using the wall anyway, Tim's hand hovering nearby just in case. And almost toppled over when his trembling legs gave way. “I’ve got you.” Dick caught him, flipping his lenses up. Damian’s eyes were dilated and glassy. “He’s drugged.” He called out to Jason. “That’s why he didn’t notice.”

“Oh shit.” Hood muttered.

Tim shot up, looking between them. “Notice what?” 

“That it was another trap.” Dick said, “You couldn’t move because he injected you with a drug, probably when he hit your head. Not because you meant for him to die." As he spoke, he gently tilted Damian’s head. Sure enough, a tiny spot of blood indicated the injection site on the side of his neck. "A self-ingested poison is what killed him.” 

With a small whimper, Damian pressed closer to Dick. “I didn’t kill him.” He said softly as Dick stroked his hair. 

“No Robin, you didn’t.” He looked up at his brothers with a heavy sigh. “Let’s go home.”

***

There was no debrief that night. Instead they all went straight to the changing rooms and showers. Dick stayed until he heard the others leave. Then he sank to the floor of the stall, head bowed under the stream. 

Jason’s shock, Tim's panic, Damian’s despair. The images haunted him, pounded down on him like the water. How could he have let this happen? His little brothers. Jason was the unlucky first but it made him aware. And still he let it get this far. What good was he if he kept letting the people he loved fall?

He dressed slowly, feeling utterly defeated. Sporadic drips of water echoed in the humid room. He waited another five minutes after hearing the distant door close before exiting and stealing quietly through the manor to his room. 

Maybe he should call Bruce and tell him to come home early. Maybe it was time to accept that he couldn’t keep them safe. Couldn't protect the gentleness each one of them still had beneath those hardened exteriors. Couldn’t fix all of their problems and make this life easier for them. He was barely managing to be a good brother and that was probably subjective. 

His eyes caught on a painting of an elephant by his door, a birthday gift from Damian after he told him stories of Zitka. Fresh guilt rolled through him. Soft knocks on the door startled him from his thoughts.

“Dick?” Tim called, an undercurrent of concern in his voice. “Alfred made dinner and we’re gonna watch a show. Wanna join us?”

“Yeah, I’ll be down in a few.” Dick finished with the elastic bandage around his knee. He wanted to lay in bed wallowing but that didn’t do anyone any good. Maybe he’d go back down to the cave and run more forensics after the movie.

Voices bled in from the hallway as he dressed in sweats and a hoodie. They were muffled but he could still make out one speaking fast while the other was slow and steady. Dick crept closer to the door and strained to hear. A terrible habit maybe but hey, it was Bruce’s fault. 

There was only one voice now, Jason’s, and foreign words with a gentle lilt dotted the sentences he managed to catch. "–I know, habibi, I know." Words he couldn’t hear or understand followed the murmur, then, "I said I'm not upset, akhi. Stop apologizing–"

Dick backed away from the door as they walked past, feeling very much like he intruded on something not only private but deeply personal. He wasn't fluent in Arabic but he knew those words. And he never dreamed Jason would say them, much less to Damian. 

Once the hallway was clear, Dick sank down on the stairs and ran both hands over his face. Maybe giving up and moving on was easier. But Jason just called Damian darling and brother in a sincere voice. Damian waited to make sure they were okay after the apartment explosion. Tim comforted Damian without hesitation. In the days they’d been together there hadn't been any blowout fights, just a heated and good natured debate about biscuits yesterday. All of that wasn’t nothing. They were threads of hope that Dick knew he would cling to until his last breath.

If he could keep his brothers alive.

“Hey.” Dick’s head snapped up as Jason slowly climbed the stairs and sat next to him. The bruises were starting to fade now but the scabs remained stark against his skin.

"Everything alright?" Dick asked, knowing the answer should be no.

"Wanted to talk before you go down." He studied the worn runner under their feet for a long moment. "Those kids down there need their big brother.” Jason said, not unkindly. “I know it’s hard for you to see them targeted, Dickie. But they need you to be present, more than they need me.”

Realization dawned on Dick. “Damian called you after it happened, didn’t he?” It made sense now. Damian called the only one of them who’d killed as a knee-jerk reaction. Only to regret it and the implications once everything had settled leading to desperate apologies and heartfelt reassurances.

Jason nodded. “He and I, with our pasts...I get it. But I’m not who he needed first. So knock off this guilt complex shit you love doing. This isn’t your fault. Stop moping." Dick’s mouth twisted and Jason held up his hand. "But I know it’s taking a lot out of you so…” He paused, battling for a moment. “I’m here if you need to fall apart. Right now. Later tonight. Whenever.” 

Dick could feel his mind almost desperately clinging to the dark familiarity of self loathing he wanted to shed so badly. But it would be so easy to slip right back into that helpless spiral of lies.

And then Jason hugged him, severing the last of the holds. “It’s ok to let us catch you too, Big Bird.” 

“You know they love and need you too, right?” Dick whispered as he hugged Jason back and steadied himself. Tried to be present only in this moment of safety Jason was giving him. God, he needed this. But he couldn’t, he just couldn’t let himself completely fall apart. Not if he wanted to keep them alive. “You’re also their big brother.” Tim looks up to you, Damian admires you. You tease them, laugh with them, protect them, comfort them.

“I know.” A small smile crept onto Jason’s face as they stood. “They’re good kids. Good kids who are impatiently waiting for us to hurry up so they can start the episode.”

“They’re not that good.” Dick said as a laugh drifted out from the media room. “They probably started it without us.” 

***

Dick woke with a surprised gunt, ribs smarting. What was that? Blinking away sleep, he peered at his bed. Curled against his left side was Damian, the sharp-kneed, rib jabbing culprit. Sleep-addled memories finally surfaced of the boy creeping into his room, unable to sleep, trying to maintain an unbothered air even as he climbed under the blanket with Dick. And just like that his plans of running forensics had gone out the window. 

Something pressed against his calf but he really didn't remember anyone else coming in. Dick’s head snapped to the right and he bit back a laugh. Tim was fast asleep, face smashed into the pillow in a way that made Dick look closely to see if he was still breathing. How that was comfortable, he would never know. Beside Tim was Jason, sleeping with his back to them. 

Not at all what he expected to wake up to but this was a welcome surprise.

"Jay...Jason." Dick hissed, snaking an arm over Tim to poke the other man. 

"What?" Not bothering to open his eyes, Jason rolled onto his back.

"Care to explain?"

“Oh,” He laughed under his breath, one teal eye briefly cracking open. “Timbo came stumbling into my room last night. Thought he was sleepwalking but nope, punk grabs my hand and drags me in here. Damian was already passed out.”

“He came in about half an hour after we all went to bed.” Dick absently smoothed Tim’s wild bedhead. “Poor kids must really be shaken.”

Jason grunted softly. “Or it's because you worry too much which makes them worry. Especially since you’re up next.” The words rang through his mind like a bell and Dick caught his breath. He'd been so focused on them that he forgot. The target was on him now. At last Jason opened his eyes, taking in Dick’s face. “Hey, we know the pattern now. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried about me.” He answered honestly. Damian stirred beside him and Dick lay a hand on his shoulder. He could handle it, whatever was coming. But his brothers...they’d put themselves in harm's way for him and he wasn’t going to let that happen.

"Maybe you should be." Tim lifted his head and rubbed his eye. "You've heard of saving the best for last, right?"

There was a groggy snort. "What does that say about Todd being first?" 

"You brat!" Suddenly fully alert, Jason lunged over Tim and Dick who both groaned in protest. Damian rolled away from Jason’s grasping hands with a pleased smirk. 

"Just when I thought this was going to be a nice morning." Dick yanked Jason into a headlock while Tim kicked his legs off of him. "I'll be fine, Tim."

"I beg to differ Richard." Damian said. Jason finally broke free and flopped onto the end of the bed where Tim chucked a pillow at him. It immediately rocketed back towards Dick who neatly caught it in midair and tossed it over the side of the bed. His brothers pouted. "We shouldn't underestimate them again."

"We can figure out what scenarios you could face." Tim offered and Jason nodded as if saying he had a point. "It would be stupid to go out blindly again. Maybe we keep you off of patrol entirely."

 "Or," Dick sat up, mind already planning, “We set a trap.”

*** 

“For the record. I still think this is a terrible idea.” 

“Really? The Red Hood, the biggest rebel and risk taker of them all, thinks this is a bad idea?” Videos scrolled across the monitors as Tim and Dick searched Damian’s footage for the original incident. 

“Jesus, Goldie. Just because I shoot people doesn’t mean I’m stupid and reckless!” Jason scowled. “I grew up in this pit with Bat Freak just like you!”

“Insulting Father could be considered stupid.” Damian offered from his seat on a gadget covered table.

“Shut up piss ant.” Jason stabbed a finger at him. “Unless you want Richard here putting his neck on the line as human bait because he’s a self-sacrificing idiot.”

Tim paused his typing and glanced at Dick beside him. “You’re gonna do this whether we like it or not, aren’t you?” It was more of a resigned statement than a question. 

A pang of regret struck Dick but he nodded anyway. “This is our best chance to draw them out and catch them.”

With a frown, Tim went back to searching. And it felt a little like he was disappointed by the answer. “Then there’s no point in arguing. Let’s just focus on making sure there’s no cracks in the plan. Okay?”

A video popped onto the screen and Robin began fighting with a masked fighter. A kick sent them hurtling towards the edge of the roof and Dick caught his breath. But this time Damian lunged forward and yanked them back onto the roof by their arm. 

Tim paused the video. "Timestamp is three weeks ago. So all of our incidents have come from last month."

"It's unnerving that we were all unaware of this person, or group, following us." Damian said.

"Fuck, B missed them too." Boots clanged softly on metal as Jason paced the platforms. "Though that's not saying much, he also missed Tim being his personal paparazzo for years."

"So did you and I."

"Which is another reason why absolutely no one calls us the world's greatest detectives."

Tim snapped his fingers impatiently, dragging the conversation back on topic. "Think of any major events in the last month, Dick. Or anything that could've ended poorly if you screwed up."

There was a plethora of possibilities and Dick kneaded his forehead as he thought. “I was in a big fight with some of Two Face’s men when I spoiled their robbery, then there was a building fire…”

“Repeats of Todd’s and Drake’s. You’re the finale. Look for something unique.” Damian said.

“Unique but something they would be able to recreate? I don’t know–” And then it hit him. The crane. God, he was never going to tell them but the cat was out of the bag now. “Three weeks ago, Wednesday the 12th. I had a close call with my grappling gun.”

With a flurry of keys, Tim pulled the video up on one of the crowded monitors. Then sucked in a sharp gasp. “You missed.”

“What?” Jason marched past Damian to lean over the desk. “Holy shit. You didn’t just miss, you fell.”

“Tt. Ridiculous.” Damian crossed his arms and glared at Jason’s back which was blocking his view. “Richard never misses or falls.” There was such finality behind his words, not an ounce of doubt in his belief, and Dick knew with a sinking heart he was about to disappoint his little brother.

“He does,” Tim said in an accusing yet too calm voice, blowing the video up across all the screens. “when he’s running on fumes.” 

It was deathly silent as they watched Dick leap off a skyscraper, firing his grappling gun at a towering crane. Only for the hook to fall short, plunging useless through the night. Dick frantically cut the line as he plummeted, firing into a secure building with barely enough time to swing himself over, striking his knee on the roof's ledge during his messy tumble. 

It was a series of careless mistakes. Ones he wouldn’t have made if he’d slept more than six hours in three days. And they knew it.

Dick cleared his throat in the uncomfortable stillness. “Tim, listen–”

“Shut up Dick.” Jason snapped, fists clenched at his sides. “You’re un-fucking-believable, you know that? Every other sentence out of your damn mouth is nagging us to get some sleep, to rest, to eat dinner, to bandage our wounds, to be kind to ourselves. Hell, you wouldn't even let Tim near that burning building because he seemed off! When was the last time you took any of that advice?”

“Last night–”

“Shut! Up! One fucking night after how many with only two or three hours of sleep or none at all? Look at the bags under your eyes!” Jason took a menacing step forward. “If Damian hadn’t shown up, would you have stayed in bed at all?”

“Oh because you’re so perfect?” Dick erupted, sweeping his arm dramatically. “Because you always follow your own advice?”

“Newsflash asshole! I don’t give any for that reason!”

“Oh please!” With a bitter laugh, Dick shook his head. “I know my limits. I’m the eldest. I’m the one who came first and handed my colors and name down to each of you. It’s my job to sacrifice.”

“How noble to fall to your death because you were too stubborn to sleep! And now you’re practically begging to be murdered!” A sneer twisted Jason’s lips. “You're an idiot.”

“If I don’t do this then they’ll go after you again!” His own shouts rang off the cave walls, echoed in his ears. “Or Tim! Or Damian! I’m trying to save you–”

“When will you realize your life matters too?” Jason roared, “That maybe we care if you live or die because you’re our fucking brother!” His chest was heaving, emotions warring on his face. Tim and Damian were silent and still as statues. And Dick didn’t have an answer for them. He wasn’t sure he’d change anything. So he said nothing.

Anger gave way to a look of disgust. “Wow. Now, of all times, you’re fucking speechless.” Jason shook his head and threw his hands up. “I’m out. I'm not fucking doing this.” He stomped over to his helmet and jacket, fishing keys out of the pocket.

“Little Wing…”

“Don’t fucking ‘Little Wing’ me!” The anger was back in a burning glare as Jason marched right up to Dick. “I’m not hanging around to watch you launch yourself into death’s open arms! Because you know what, you naive, optimistic asshole? I was happier.” His voice cracked on the last word, a shine appearing in his eyes before chrome red slammed down over it, locking it away. “Find someone else to catch you, Golden Boy.”

The squeal of the motorcycle couldn’t drown out the words ringing in Dick’s ears. He blew it, seriously blew it this time. Shit. He knew better than to meet Jason’s temper with his own. It was like throwing gasoline on a fire. Heaving a sigh, he turned back to Tim and Damian, rubbing the back of his neck. Two sets of wide eyes stared at him. “Anyone else want out?” He muttered. 

Tim's shock turned into a glare before he swiveled back to the computer. “No, because I’d like you to survive, you ass. Ever stop and think how we’d feel if you died protecting us? Or doing exactly what you always tell us not to do?” Damian gave him an impassive look but the hurt bled through his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I…” Dick trailed off and covered his face with his hand. What a disaster. “I’m gonna get some air, I’ll be back.”

Maybe the backyard was where he should go, take a sprint around the grounds to shake this tension, but he found himself face to face with Alfred the moment he entered the manor. The butler took one look at his face and sighed softly. “Let’s talk while you help me replant seedlings.” 

In the greenhouse, Dick obediently took the cardboard tray from Alfred and began carefully transferring the delicate green shoots into the prepared pots lining the table. “I messed up Alfie.” He said quietly. “All the time I’ve been trying to bring them all together, show Jason that he does have a place here, but instead I...I drove them all away.”

“Perhaps Master Jason didn’t have the best delivery but he is correct.” Alfred smiled at his surprised face and gave a prim shrug. “It was a very loud argument and I’d just opened the door.” He carefully watered the pots Dick prepared. “Taking care of yourself doesn’t mean you’re letting them down, Master Dick. How can you give them anything if you have nothing left to give?”

“I never thought of it that way...” Dick admitted, gently breaking apart tangled roots.

“The frustration you feel when they neglect themselves is the same thing they’re feeling right now. And more.” Alfred set the watering can down and looked him in the eyes. “They love you as you love them. They trusted you were following your own advice, not knowing they were drawing from a well gone dry.”

“God, they’re right Alfie,” Dick moaned, collapsing onto a wooden stool. “I am an ass.” How could he be so blind? Last night, literally last night, he told Jason what their little brothers thought of him. But it was true of him too. Tim looks up to him, comes to him for advice about both sides of his life. Damian admires him, actively copies him as he learns what it means to be Robin and Damian. And Jason…

“Jason wrote a damn essay about me for school.” Dick buried his face in dirt covered hands. A moment later a steady hand rested on his shoulder. “You should’ve seen his face when I told him that I believed he was innocent. Like it was all that mattered. And now he–” 

“–is hurt by your disregard for your own well-being.”

“I was shooting for ‘he hates my guts’.” Dick joked and Alfred swatted his head lightly. 

“No need for dramatics or blaming yourself even more! Simply take care of yourself Master Dick, like you would your brothers. That’s all we want for you, myself and Master Bruce included.”

Dick lingered for an hour in the greenhouse, repotting seedlings and sitting morosely in the corner as Alfred’s words churned in his head. But there was no avoiding this. He needed to go back down and help his brothers. And apologize. If they’d even listen. With a reluctant groan he staggered to his feet and trudged through the manor. 

The cave was surprisingly quiet. Only Damian sat at the computer, tapping away. “Where’s Tim?”

“He went up to make coffee.” 

Dick leaned on the desk beside him. “Any progress on the plan?” 

“Some.” More clicking as Damian stared straight ahead, looking so much like Bruce it was uncanny.

“Dames…”

“Do you not find me capable, Richard?” Damian swiveled sharply in the chair to face him.

Dick blinked, caught off guard. “No, not at all. You’re extremely capable. Why are you–”

“But you must see me as lacking. You’re not taking care of yourself and making mistakes yet still critiquing me on self-care.”

“I’m not ‘critiquing’ you, I’m…” Sighing, Dick crouched in front of the chair. “I worry about you, about all of you, because I love you. And I want the best for you, even if that means I need to sacrifice. But Jason and Tim are right. I went too far. I was trying so hard to lift everyone up that I...I pushed myself down. I lost sight of my own value. And I’m sorry. Because I know how much it hurts me when that happens to you. And I promise you I'll do better.”

Slowly the wall over Damian’s face lowered, posture relaxing a fraction as he carefully chose his words. “Is what Todd said true?” He asked in a much less defensive voice. “That I was the only reason you slept the entire night?”

“Yeah, kiddo.”

“Would it help if I stayed in your room again tonight? So you can sleep?”

An aching lump swelled in Dick’s throat and he blinked quickly. Then he nodded jerkily, barely able to force out, “Sure.”

“Very well. But I’ll be checking to make sure you’re actually sleeping, Grayson.” Damian leaned forward and hugged him, arms wrapped securely around his neck, and it took all of Dick’s willpower to not burst into tears then and there as he hugged his little brother back.

“I’ll set up motion cameras if needed.” Tim came strolling over, balancing three steaming mugs. 

“Tim, I–”

“It’s okay Dick. I heard what you said to Damian. I’m not mad–well maybe I’m a little mad–but mostly, I’m just disappointed.” Dick winced as he kept speaking. “Good news is that even though you might be a hypocrite,” Tim grinned, “I’m glad you’re our hypocrite.”

“Gee thanks, I think.” Dick stood with a laugh and took the cup Tim offered him with a relieved smile. “Now that we’re a man down thanks to me, what’s the plan?”

***

“Everything still normal?” Red Robin asked over the comms.

“Boringly so.” Dick fired another line and swung around a cell tower. “All good on your ends Robins? O?” Worry hovered just out of reach in the back of his mind. Distractions were the last thing he needed but Dick couldn’t shake it.

His brothers weren’t far off, out of sight but keeping pace with Nightwing as he did his usual patrol. At the first sign of trouble they’d come busting in and take their new foe down. A simple but effective plan. And hey, if all went wrong at least they knew to look for cranes.

“I’m fine.” Robin answered. 

“All good.” Oracle chimed in. “Still getting your signal loud and clear, Boy Wonder.”

“You sure there’s no interference? I can swing by if you need to calibrate the tracker.”

“Tt. Could you spare us all and flirt on a private channel?”

“Seconded.” Tim mock gagged.

“Both of you zip it or I’ll tell Batman about the Batcycle.”

Silence fell over the comms. Laughing, Dick dropped lightly onto a gravel covered rooftop. “Wow. It’s a miracle, O. You have to teach me your ways.”

“It’s called blackmail.” Babs said cheerfully.

A shout killed whatever joke was about to come next. “I’m under attack!” Tim reported. The smack of his bo staff bled into the audio. “Looks like Two-Face’s men. They ambushed me.”

“And me.” Damian sounded annoyed.

“Wing, you’re on your own for a bit!”

Not good. “Either of you need help?” Pulling up his domino map, Dick searched for their beacons. “I’m only a few minutes away.”

“No, stay–” With a fizz, Damian cut off at the same time static filled his lenses and the map disappeared as well.

“Robin?” No response. Dick pressed the comm firmly in his ear. “Red? Oracle?” What the hell was going on? All his tech was dead. Shit. Localized EMP. Need to get out of here before–

Someone chuckled behind him. “Ain’t nobody listenin’ pal.” 

Before this. Leaping backwards, Dick lashed out with a powerful kick, taking the thug in a split-colored suit down. But before he could make another move a rope wrapped around his neck, yanking his head back as a needle plunged in. 

And then nothing.

***

“Wakey wakey, birdie!”

A punch to the stomach followed the mocking words and Dick opened his eyes with a gasp. Bright light immediately blinded him, making he squint. Ropes dug painfully tight into his arms which were wretched behind the chair back. If something was securing his legs, Dick couldn’t tell. A tingling numbness filled his lower body. 

God, and his head was throbbing. It felt like...like it was stuffed with cotton. Same drug as Jason. Which means…

“There you are!” A light shifted as a man noisily dragged a chair over and Two-Face sat in front of Dick. He wore two halves of a black and white suit and an ugly grin. “You’re quite the heavy sleeper, Nightwing!”

“What can I say?” Dick smirked, feeling his lip smart from a mysterious cut, “Night is in my name after all.”

“Cute. Hit him some more.” A right hook crashed into his jaw. Suddenly he knew where the cut had come from. A punch from the left quickly followed it and a ring sliced across his cheek. “You stuck your beak where it didn’t belong!" Dent screamed. "Messed with my business!” 

“That’s literally my job, mister district attorney.” An elbow to the solar plexus this time. Dick slumped forward as much as the ropes would allow, gasping for breath. Blood dribbled down his chin as Dent seethed. Chuckling came from beyond the lights as shuffling henchmen watched on. From the sounds of it, Two-Face had been expecting more Bats. But with his tracker offline it would take them longer to find him.

“Keep back talking Nightwing, it won’t save you! Do you know how much you’ve cost me with every shipment of drugs and weapons you’ve burned?” Dick couldn’t even think of a smart ass response, much less say it. He was too focused on taking shallow breaths and getting his diaphragm to stop spasming. Someone grabbed his hair and yanked his head upright, a strained wince escaping him. 

Two-Face leaned in close, the lights making his mangled side even more grotesque. Did a coin toss tell him to be this dramatic? “You and those other Bat brats have been a thorn in my side for far too long. So I flipped a coin for your fates.” 

With a flourish, Dent produced a double-headed coin and rolled it across his knuckles. “Kill you?” He flipped it, metal winking in the light. “Or merely break you?” It landed on a face almost completely obliterated by deep gouges.

“Or option three." Dick wheezed, "Bore me.”

A wicked grin spread across Harvey’s face. “Three times in a row the coin said to break. So I did as fate demanded.”

Realization settled heavy in Dick’s gut. “It was you. You attacked them.” Because of me. Because of what I've been doing.

 “A much more subtle approach than usual but once I flipped the coin for you…I knew it was meant to be. That your punishment should be as drawn out and painful as you’ve been to me! And what better way to torture than to show the other side of the coin?”

An arm suddenly clamped around Dick’s neck, squeezing tight as he struggled weakly. That twisted sneer moved close as Harvey smiled at him. “By the way. Your coin landed on tails.” Darkness creeped over Dick’s vision, “Kill.”

***

This time Dick came around gradually. A gentle breeze ruffled his hair, the all too familiar scents of the city on it. Then his body swayed and bright bursts of pain in his shoulders and arms fully woke him. A shoddily lit construction site filled his swimming vision. They were nauseatingly high, his arms pulled painfully over his head and tied to a crane.

“Other side of my coin, huh?” Dick said, kicking his legs a bit to try and restore more feeling. Still too numb to help. “Should’ve guessed it was you. Same tired old metaphors.” As he talked, he quickly counted floors of a nearby skyscraper. At least 70 stories up. Too high for any hope of landing safely.

Two-Face sneered down at him. “I’m going to enjoy watching you die, Nightwing. Especially since there’s no Batman here to save you. So without further adieu...” A knife flashed in the city lights. Dick tried to swing his legs up and grab onto the crane, but it was too late. 

He was falling.

Sometimes falls felt longer than they actually were. But this fall wasn’t long enough. The buildings were rushing by too fast, wind too harsh and loud in his ears. Dick pressed at his earpiece as he plummeted but there wasn’t even static. 

“I’m sorry.” Was all he could manage to whisper to the night, all he had time for. Not that it mattered. All the words he’d meant to say to his family and friends, things he thought there was time to say, swelled in his chest. And his brothers...he’d done his best to bring them together. Hopefully they’d stay together even without him.

The only comforting thought amongst the overwhelming regrets was that at the end of this fall...he’d land in his parents’ arms. Dick closed his eyes and took one last breath of Gotham air. One last flight.

Something hard slammed into him from the side, a jarring impact but one that kept him in motion, not a final halt. His eyes snapped open to see a gleaming red helmet. “Little Wing?”

“Don’t move.” Jason warned. He clutched Dick tight around the waist. “You’re heavy as shit and I’m only using one arm.” They were dangerously low, with Jason aiming for an office building. “We’re landing rough. Roof or window?”

“Roof.”

“Hold on.” Jason released his grapple line early and grabbed Dick with both arms as they crashed onto the building, rolling twice before they were thrown apart. Pain pulsed through Dick’s body as he lay sprawled on the concrete, cheek pressed into the stone. The worst of it was in his shoulders but now his chest and head were throbbing again too.

“Wing!” Careful hands rolled him over, ghosting over his bloodied face. Dick tried to play it cool, say something reassuring, but he took too deep of a breath. Pain flared in his chest. Gritting his teeth, he sucked in a slow breath. “I’m gonna kill the fucker.” Jason growled, gingerly helping him sit up.

“If you can find him.” Dick practically whispered as Jason worked on freeing his hands. “Robins?” 

“Chasing Dent down along with Spoiler and Black Bat.” Blood flooded back into his numb fingers, aided by Jason carefully massaging away the ensuing cramps. “So finding him won’t be a problem. And when I do–”

“Sounds good.” Dick relented tiredly. “Can we go home? ‘Cause I think I need a bandaid.”

Even with the hood on, Dick could feel Jason’s incredulous stare. “Did you just put your own wellbeing over others? Who are you? Clayface?”

“Haha.” Dick deadpanned as Jason carefully helped him stand on tingling legs. “This is the new me since my brothers bitched me out about taking better care of myself.”

“Wow. And you just admitted we were right. Pinch me, I think I’m dreaming.” With a shake of his head, Jason pulled out his grapple gun. “Hang tight, my bike isn’t far.”

***

The sting of the antiseptic was almost a welcome unpleasantness. It was predictable. And it helped clear his mind. Awkward silence blanketed the cave as Jason carefully cleaned the cuts on Dick’s face until Dick couldn’t stand it any longer. “Thought you weren’t going to get involved.”

“I wasn’t. Barbara called me.” Not meeting his eyes, Jason dabbed medicine onto his cut cheek. “They’d figured it out by then and Steph and Cass suited up the moment their plane landed. Tim’s plan was to ambush Two-Face at the crane and rescue you at the same time.”

“Smart. That warehouse was loaded.”

“Not smart enough. None of them could’ve held their weight and yours, especially falling at that speed. Besides, four people securing Two-Face have a better chance than one or two.” He smoothed a bandage onto Dick’s cheek and turned away, cleaning up the discarded wrappers and gauze. 

“We match.” The joke fell flat, Jason not even acknowledging it. Dick knew why. The argument hovered over them, tainting the air. Dividing them. Taking a slow breath, Dick spoke in a soft voice, “Jay–”

“Stop fucking talking. Give your lungs a break. I can hear you wheezing.” True. Although his chest was feeling a lot better now that his diaphragm was relaxing. But something told him Jason wasn’t in the mood to split hairs. Jason chucked the pile of trash into the can with a frown and motioned for Dick to get off the table. “Come on, let’s get you to bed before the horde descends.”

Classic redirection. Dick gave in for now. “But there’s beds down here?” He waved off hovering hands only for his left leg to buckle the moment he put weight on it.

Throwing Dick’s arm over his shoulder, Jason hooked an arm around his waist as he helped him out of the cave. “And you’ll be dragging yourself over to the computer in an hour rather than resting. I don’t think so. Your ass is not leaving your bed for twelve hours at a minimum. I will tie you down if needed.”

He wasn’t wrong and Dick couldn’t help but smile. “What I’m hearing is you’re waiting on me hand and foot for those twelve hours then, right?”

“Jesus, didn’t realize Two-Face hit you that hard.” A tiny flicker of a smile tugged at Jason’s mouth. Words wanted to leap from Dick’s mouth, apologies and explanations, questions about Jason's parting shot. He needed to clear the air desperately. Because he was scared that if it festered...he’d lose Jason.

As if he could sense Dick’s internal battle, Jason sobered and closed off once again. They finished their slow trek through the manor in silence. In his room, Dick collapsed onto bed with a dramatic groan. Holy shit did he ache. Deep red and purple bruises were settling in on his wrists and forearms, white bandages covering spots rubbed raw by the rope. He traced them absently. Reminders of how little stood between him and death tonight. A snapped rope, no net below, just falling...

“You good?” Jason ground out and Dick looked up to see him watching with a clenched jaw and sparking eyes. If Two-Face wasn’t in Arkham yet, he better hide and pray Red Hood doesn't find him.

“I'll be fine. Listen, I–”

“Stop.” Jason held up a hand with a sigh, “I get that you want to talk. Fine. But I can’t tonight, alright? I can’t. Just...leave it alone and I’ll...I’ll come find you when I'm ready. Deal?” After a moment of hesitation, Dick nodded. At the very least he owed Jason that.

Footsteps pounding down the hall signaled the conversation was well and truly over. Jason quickly turned away right as the door burst open and Tim, Damian, and Cass came rushing in.

“Dick!” Tim was the first one on the bed, catching himself before he tackle-hugged his brother. “Are you alright?"

"Look at his face instead of asking moronic questions, Timothy!"

“I got smacked around a bit but I'm well enough for a hug.” Dick opened his arms with a smile.

“A gentle hug.” Jason snapped but Tim was already launching himself into Dick’s embrace. 

"I'm glad you're safe," He said softly, reminding Dick that while Tim was a kickass Robin who could hold his own, he was also just a kid that needed his family. "You really had us scrambling for a minute."

Damian sat carefully on his other side, their shoulders almost touching, while Cass settled cross-legged at the foot of the bed. “Dent is in Arkham." said Damian. "We took him there ourselves to be sure.”

“I say a month before he’s out.” Tim said.

“Tt. Three months, Drake.”

“You’re on.” And Damian and Tim reached across Dick to shake hands. Jason rolled his eyes at the foot of the bed, arms crossed moodily.

“And you’re all okay?” Dick ruffled Damian’s hair playfully before pulling him into a one-armed hug. “Where’s Steph?”

“We’re fine. Spoiler is dealing with a B&E.” Tim said. “She said that she’s glad you’re alive but you deserve every lecture we’re going to give you.”

Dick winced. “What about you, Cass?” He smiled weakly at her. “You’re not mad...are you?”

“I’m a little mad.” She grinned. “You were being needlessly reckless.”

“I’m sorry. I know words can only do so much but...I’m sorry you went through this tonight. Can't promise it won't happen again in our line of work but I'll make sure the reasons why are different.”

“Apology accepted.” Cass smiled kindly and patted his leg. “Now you seriously need to rest.”

“This is why you’re my favorite, Cass.” Jason said. “Everyone, out. Or this idiot will never sleep.”

As Tim sputtered a protest, Damian glanced at Dick. "But I made a promise…" It was almost a petulant whine, truly the behavior of a twelve year old. But there was more to it. Damian was checking to see if he was needed. Unsure if he was wanted anymore after opening up.

“It’s alright, Dames.” Dick said, earning a cold glare from Jason. “You can stay.” 

“Did you not hear me? Ears still ringing, bird brain?” 

“I told Damian he could stay and make sure I slept tonight. Go ahead and make me a liar.” He snapped. Exhaustion stole most of the ire from his voice but the twitch in Jason’s jaw said his words hit their mark. “Tim offered too. And Cass is the lightest sleeper we know. It’ll be better if they stay.” And I don’t want to be alone tonight.

“Fine!" Jason threw his hands up as all three rushed off to change and grab pillows. “But if I hear a single fucking whisper, I’m busting this slumber party. Got it?”

“So what I’m hearing,” Dick drawled with a cocky grin, “is that you’re also staying to make sure we don’t end up talking?” Oh Jason was fuming now, irritated to no end, but Dick kept talking. “Works for me. We can do the same layout as before, this bed is stupid big.”

“You got lucky tonight, Dickface.” He grumbled and Dick knew he won. “Don’t push it.”

By the time his siblings all piled into the bed, Jason sulking in an armchair at the foot of the bed, Dick was struggling to stay awake. Lingering adrenaline gave him moments of sharp, jittery awareness, but the crash and drugs were over-powering it. With Tim and Cass at his back, talking quietly until Jason snapped his fingers, Dick let his eyes slide shut. 

The mattress dipped slightly and he cracked an eye open to see Damian buried under the blankets in front of him. Green eyes watched him carefully, traces of worry in them. “Okay, kiddo?”

Damian nodded. Then he scooted closer, letting Dick drape an arm over him. “I...I love you too, Richard.” He whispered into the comforter, so low Dick almost missed it. Even in his groggy state, joy filled his chest. Because Damian never said it before. Love was a weakness and even if his actions showed it, Damian still resisted saying it to any of them.

“And I love you, Dames.” He whispered, still smiling as he drifted off.

***

Being Robin forced Dick to learn patience. Not his favorite thing in the world but it was a tool he knew how to use and used well. But today it felt as if he were nine and being forced to learn patience all over again. Jason pointedly ignored him all through breakfast, leaning against the counter as he ate his bagel, disappearing before Tim even made coffee. Since then he’d been a ghost.

But there were still three siblings and a surprisingly strong butler to nag Dick about taking it easy all day so at least there were physical barriers stopping him from hunting Jason down before he was ready and making things infinitely worse. 

It wasn’t until after dinner that Dick was finally alone, slowly making his way downstairs, that he saw Jason. He was coming up the stairs, a small frown on his face that only seemed to deepen when he saw Dick. “I was on my way to find you.”

“Looks like I met you halfway.” Dick plopped down on the stairs and patted the floor next to him. 

Reluctantly, Jason sat beside him. “Can’t we go somewhere private? Or more comfortable.”

“Come on, our staircase conversations are a classic. Plus I’m feeling winded so if we’re going anywhere else, you’re carrying me.”

“Did Alfred check you out? A hit to the solar plexus can–”

“I’m fine, Jay.” Dick touched his arm gently. “That’s not what we need to talk about.” He paused, checking if Jason was finally ready. A small nod said he was. 

“I need to say that I’m sorry.” Jason tensed under his hand, looking pointedly away. Pulling his hand away, Dick continued speaking. “You were right, I’ve been putting myself dead last. I forgot the three of you love me as fiercely as I love you. I’m going to do better. I promise.” 

The soft, rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock filled the hall along with a distant murmur of voices. They felt overwhelmingly loud in the drawn out, maddening silence that followed. But Dick bit his tongue, giving his brother space to process. And at last there was a slow breath that drowned out every other sound. 

“You know…” Jason broke off to clear his throat, “The only reason I ever set foot back in this place was because of you. You were in my corner before Bruce was. Honestly, you and Alfred are probably the only reason this family is still together.”

“Actually Bruce–”

“Just take the fucking compliment.” Jason interrupted. “Watching that video of you...realizing how little you value yourself...it hurts and I still don’t know entirely why. But I do know I'm furious you would risk your life so carelessly after forcing your way back into mine. Because...I am happier. But if we lost you...I don’t know if any of us could be happy again.” He finished in a too small voice.

“You would.” Dick said with a sad smile. “It would just look different.” Too much experience taught him that.

“I don’t fucking want ‘different’.” Jason bit out, fixing him with a stern look. “I want this . So stop trying to die and ruin everything, got it Dickface?”

“Yeah, Jay. I got it.” And like that the cloud was gone. There was still work to be done but a weight had been lifted from their shoulders. Slowly, making sure Jason was comfortable, Dick leaned against him, gradually dropping his head on Jason’s shoulder.

With a small sigh, Jason leaned his head on Dick’s. “Sorry for yelling before.”

“Apology accepted but let’s be real, I needed that wakeup call.”

“Hell yeah you did.” He laughed and sat up. “You know, staying here this past week wasn’t that bad. Better than I expected. I, uh...I think I’m a bit sad about leaving.”

“You don’t have to leave. We're not chasing you out.” Dick sat up too, bracing his arms on his knees. “But if you need space or a break, I understand. Just know you’re always welcome.”

With a thoughtful hum, Jason leaned back on the stairs. “Maybe a few days. Then I’ll return. Dunno how long I’ll stay with Bruce here but I’ll come back.”

“Bruce would happily let you stay forever.”

“I know...I just...need time to adjust. Baby steps, you know?”

Dick nodded and bumped their feet together. “When are you leaving then?” It was a pointless question. Bruce was coming home tonight. No doubt Jason would be gone before the car could pull into the drive. The somber look Jason was giving him said as much. God, would it be childish if Dick begged for him to stay? Played the ‘I’m hurt’ card?

“You’re leaving?” Tim cried. Both men whipped around to see Damian, Tim, and Cass at the top of the stairs.

“This family has a serious eavesdropping problem!” Jason rolled his eyes but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Yes, I’m leaving. This was a temporary thing, Babybird.”

“Like Mary Poppins.” Dick said, trying not to show his own disappointment but glad he wasn’t the only one feeling this way. “He showed up, helped give us a life changing revelation, and now he’s floating away into the sunset.”

“Seriously? That’s your best analogy?”

“You can’t leave tonight.” Damian ordered. “We’re supposed to watch the other two Jurassic Park movies.”

“Kid, I’m telling you, the first was the best–”

“What about the new ones?” Cass asked in an innocent voice that said she knew exactly which buttons she was pushing. “I heard they were even better.”

Jason glared. “From one ten to another, you're walking a fine, fine line.”

“Hate watching is valid, Jase!” Tim interrupted. “And you promised!”

Scrubbing a hand through his hair, Jason heaved a sigh. His siblings watched with poorly hidden smiles. “Ah shit. Fine. I’ll leave tomorrow. Happy?”

"Yep!" Tim sprinted past them down the stairs, "Hurry up!"

"I call the loveseat!" Cass called as she sprang over the banister, cutting Tim off.

Damian was hot on their heels and scowling. "Not fair Drake! You cheated!"

"It's at least a little bit crazy that this–” Jason waved his hand at their racing siblings, "–makes me feel happy, right?"

"Getting those warm, fuzzy feelings in your chest?" Dick laughed as he carefully made his way down to the media room. "You're going soft, Hood."

"I blame all of you." But his grin, as he watched his siblings scramble for seats, said he could care less. 

Cass did manage to get the overstuffed loveseat much to Tim's disappointment. But he opted to sacrifice the recliner to Damian and make himself comfortable on the couch instead. And comfortable to Tim meant leaning against Dick and throwing his feet into Jason’s lap.

“Not happening.” Jason shoved his feet off as Damian started the movie.

“But what if I get scared?” Tim asked with a mischievous grin. 

“Tim, I promise you this.” Leaning forward, Jason looked him dead in the eyes. “If you get scared, I won’t give a flying f–”

“Master Jason!” Alfred scolded as he set down two bowls of popcorn. “I know you weren’t about to use such foul language!”

“Absolutely not!” Jason batted his eyes innocently. “I was going to say foot, Alfie.” Snickering, Tim settled in between his brothers as Cass and Damian simultaneously shot glares at them. Jason glared back. Dick didn’t bat an eye. It always took a few minutes for everyone to settle in. 

Sure enough, only five minutes later everyone was enraptured, with the occasional debate about plot holes that was quickly ended by Damian shushing them. He soon abandoned the armchair to sit next to Dick, supposedly to better reach the popcorn. On his other side, Tim was slouching against Jason as they argued about the mechanics of dinosaur cages with his feet in Dick’s lap instead. Cass was happily cocooned in a plush blanket, following the movie as intently as Damian was.

 Which was why none of them heard the front door open or Bruce walk in until Jason said, “Hey, B. Good trip?”

“Good enough.” Bruce shrugged amicably. He was leaning wearily in the doorway, watching them with uncharacteristically soft eyes. “I’m glad to be home. What are you watching?”

“Jurassic Park. We just started the third one a few minutes ago.” And Dick fully expected Jason to turn back to the TV and ignore Bruce now that their small talk was done. Maybe he’d make an excuse to leave in a few minutes. Instead, Jason turned to fully look back at Bruce, careful to not disturb Tim. “You should join us.”

Dick caught his breath at the same time that Bruce’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Then he nodded, shrugging off his coat and setting his briefcase down. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen these movies. The first one was the best.”

“Thank you!” Jason exclaimed loudly only to have Tim slap a hand over his mouth. 

“You can sit with me.” Cass scooted over and patted the empty seat. “It’s ok if you fall asleep, we won’t judge.”

“Thank you Cassie, but I’m not that tired. And I’m sure you’ll all take embarrassing pictures of me the moment my eyes close.” He laughed and stopped by the couch. For a moment, he stood debating. Then he asked in a neutral voice, “How long are you staying, Jay?”

“Leaving tomorrow,” Jason glanced up at him quickly, “but...I’ll be back.”

“Good, I'm looking forward to that.” Bruce smiled warmly at his son, “I’ve missed having you around.” Jason mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ‘me too’ as Bruce tugged Tim’s messy hair playfully. Then his eyes settled on Dick’s face. 

The change was palpable, a sudden tension filling the air. All affection vanished from his face as Batman slid into place. “What happened?” he demanded, leaning over the back of the couch to inspect the bruises and cuts in the dim light. “Are you alright? Who did this?” Bruce glanced at Jason, looking for answers, and did a double take as he noticed the fading marks on his cheek. “Boys.” Bruce said sternly. Jason stuffed a handful of popcorn in his mouth and pretended not to hear.

“Long story but nothing we couldn’t handle. We’re fine. I’m fine, dad.” Dick tried his best to sound reassuring but Bruce didn’t seem convinced, “I’ve got a whole team of vigilantes making sure of it. No need to worry.”

“Why didn’t you tell–”

“Father, please!” Damian huffed. “Some of us have not seen this movie before!”

“Later.” Dick promised, biting back a laugh. Reluctantly, Bruce gave him a stiff nod before joining Cass. 

“He’s okay.” Cass reassured, snaking her arm out of the blanket to offer her bowl of popcorn to Bruce before snuggling up against him. Only then did their dad relax, frown fading from his brow. 

Tim muttered a joke under his breath while Jason tried not to laugh. Damian was curled up on the couch with a childlike wonder that was so rare to him.

Dick watched his family with a small smile, happiness filling every part of him. Jason was right. He didn't want different. 

He wanted this.