Chapter Text
"One more time."
Tim sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Distress signal is on my chest, comm is in my ear. When I get back, the first thing I'm telling Bats and the others is that I'm missing a vital organ."
Dick raised an eyebrow.
This time Tim did roll his eyes.
"And I won't hide important stuff like medical issues in the future."
"Thank you. Now," Dick cleared his throat and looked around at the others gathered in the med bay. Bruce and Alfred were setting up a small device roughly the size of a microwave, Jason was leaning in the doorway, and Damian had dragged in the batcomputer chair. "Are we all ready?"
"At least we get to say goodbye this time." Damian grumbled.
"Damian-,"
"Come here." Tim interrupted Dick, holding his hand out for the youngest.
Damian looked uncertain, but stood and walked over anyway, taking Tim's hand.
"I'm sorry you never got to say goodbye." Tim, a few years ago, would never have considered it possible to be this close to Damian without being on the defensive.
But now? This wasn't a killer. This was his younger brother. The kid had already lived through the death of a sibling, and now he was going to have to deal with Tim leaving all over again. He might have been trying to hide it, but Tim could see that he was scared.
"I'm going to have a talk with my Damian when I get back, but you deserve to hear this, too."
Damian looked down at his shoes, but didn't let go of Tim's hand.
"You're a great Robin. I'm… I'm honored to know you're wearing my old colors. My initial disapproval of you as Robin," Tim hesitated, just noticing that he had the full attention of everyone in the room, but then he looked back at his brother and continued. "It had nothing to do with your abilities. I just want you to know that. You've more than proven yourself worthy."
Damian's hand trembled slightly in Tim's grip and he didn't look up, but he moved closer to the bed. He then sat down beside Tim and wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug, making sure to be mindful of his injury.
"I'm going to miss you. Make sure your Damian isn't too rough with you when you get back."
Tim hugged him back. "I will. I promise."
Jason came over and patted Damian's head, pulling him off Tim. "Since, um… since this is goodbye, there's something I want to say. Something I should have said a while ago."
Tim met Jason's eyes and flickered his gaze down to his brother's gloved hand.
Jason nodded.
He then cleared his throat. "I'm pansexual. And poly." He then took a step back from his youngest brother and removed his glove, holding up his hand so everyone could see the rings on his fingers. "And… engaged. I meant to tell you a while ago but chickened out, and then it just seemed awkward to bring up, so I didn't. But now that we're engaged, I decided it was time to do a whole announcement thing."
A look of sad realization dawned on Bruce's face as he listened to his son. "That's why you were home that night, isn't it?"
Jason closed his eyes and nodded. None of them had to ask what night he was talking about. "Yeah. I wanted to tell the whole family so I only had to do it once."
"Oh, Jay."
Jason cleared his throat, pointedly cutting off anything else Bruce might have been about to say. "I just want to be clear, though, I'm… I'm not saying this now because I'm using you as a stand in for my brother." He turned to Tim, who nodded in understanding. "I just… if I didn't say something now, I'm not sure when I would."
"I get it." Tim smiled at him.
"Who's next?" Dick asked, still avoiding looking at his father.
There was a beat of silence, and then Alfred stepped forward. "Lad, I know this entire situation has been less than ideal, but if you take anything good from this, please don't ever take your health or safety for granted again. You are not the only one affected when something happens to you."
Tim pushed himself up to sit on his cot and looked around the room at everyone. "I, um… I promise. I'm sorry I didn't see it before. I love all of you guys so much. I… I was just so scared that it was all one-sided. I convinced myself that it was all in my head. I was so scared that I was reading too much into everything."
"Oh, Tim. You are family. You are so loved." Alfred stepped closer and drew the teen in for a tight hug.
Tim leaned into it, suddenly struck by the realization that Alfred… well, everyone, really… they weren't saying their goodbyes to him.
Not entirely.
They were talking to the brother, the son, the grandson that they hadn't had the ability to say goodbye to.
He wrapped his arms around Alfred and hugged him back, just as tight.
When they separated, Bruce stepped forward. "Tim."
"Bruce. Thank you for saving my life. I'm so sorry about what happened to your son." He looked around the room, seeing that everyone was again watching him. "But you still have three more that need you. Tim… your Tim is gone, and I've seen how bad you get when you lose someone. How bad you got the last time you lost someone."
Jason cleared his throat and looked away, pretending to read a nearby chart.
Tim pointed at the machine, waiting to be activated and send him home. "This can't happen again."
Bruce closed his eyes. "I know. I know that. And I'm so sorry for everything I know I've put your family through."
"Bruce, I can't pull you out of it this time. Alfred, Dick, Jason, and Damian? They're grieving, too. And they need you. It's your turn to be there for them the way I was there for you."
Bruce nodded in defeat, looking around at the others in the room. Alfred, Damian, and Jason all silently met his gaze. Dick didn't even turn towards him.
"I'll… If that machine's ready, I'll take him." Dick finally choked out.
Bruce looked like he was about to protest, but closed his eyes and nodded.
"Tim, goodbye. I love you, son." He stayed back, as if he wasn't sure he was allowed to go in for a hug. He didn't hesitate, however, when Tim raised his arms to offer one.
"I love you, too, Dad."
Yyyyy
Nightwing sat on the hood of the Batmobile, head in his hands. They had been looking for Tim all night, and it was well past noon now.
He was tired. He just wanted to rest. He just wanted to sleep and hope that, when he woke up, he'd discover that this had all been a nightmare.
But he knew it wasn't.
His brother's corpse was out there somewhere.
He had died alone and, if his attacker was to be believed, by accident.
By fucking accident.
After everything they had been through, everything they had survived… everything Tim had survived…
And he'd been taken out by some… some damn purse snatcher.
Not a hardened villain.
Not a meta.
Just a loser who wanted a few bucks and had a knife.
And now they couldn't even give him a burial, as someone or something had taken him.
The thought of what they could have done with his brother's body made his blood boil and his stomach churn.
"Nightwing."
"Yeah." He responded automatically, hand going to his comm, but froze with the sudden realization that the voice hadn't come from his radio.
His head jerked up and swiveled, freezing in shock when he spotted…
No…
No, it wasn't possible…
"T-Tim?"
He was pale, shaky, and had one hand braced against the side of the building the Batmobile was parked in front of. But he smiled when he heard his name.
"Yeah. It's me."
In a daze, and mildly wondering if he'd actually fallen asleep and was dreaming this, Nightwing stood and faced him.
"Timmy..?"
Like a switch, he was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that, yes, this was real. Yes, that was Tim.
Yes, he was alive.
"Tim!" He was running the instant he was sure of what he was seeing.
"Stop! Stop. Be careful."
Nightwing skidded to a stop just before Tim's outstretched hand.
"I'm… I got hurt. I'm going to be fine, I just can't really handle one of your hugs right now."
Dick reached out and touched the hand, needing the physical contact to assure himself, and then slowly, carefully, stepped closer and held Tim's face in his hands, examining him for injuries.
"You're okay." He whispered. "You're okay. You're okay." He wasn't sure when he'd started crying, but he felt Tim's hands grab his. He felt Tim's head rest against his shoulder and drew him closer, holding him tight enough that no one would take him again.
"I'm okay."
"Where were you? What happened?"
"He was… with me."
Nightwing hadn't even noticed the man standing behind Tim until he spoke. He opened his eyes to see… himself?
"What?"
Dick, as he wasn't in uniform, ran a hand through his hair awkwardly, gritting his teeth and wincing when his fingers hit a painful tangle. "It's a long story. He'll tell you." He nodded at Tim, still wrapped tight in Nightwing's arms.
"Who… who are you?" Had his parents had another kid? Did he have a twin? Had he been cloned?
The other Dick, as if seeing Nightwing's train of thought, cleared his throat. "I'm from a parallel dimension. As I said, it's a long story. But Tim needed medical attention and… he was brought to us. I'm so, so sorry for everything. We did our best to get him back to you guys as soon as we could."
"A parallel dimension-,"
"He'll explain. I, uh, I should get back." Dick interrupted.
He took a step back and Nightwing was able to see a shimmering, open vortex behind him. Before he could walk through, though, two hands reached out and grabbed his jacket.
Tim and Nightwing let go when he turned around.
Nightwing spoke first, voice thick. "Thank you."
Dick nodded. "Keep him safe."
"Goodbye, Dick." Tim waved his hand.
Dick returned the gesture, and then was gone.
Nightwing pulled back just enough to look Tim in the face. "What happened? We thought you were dead. Some guy turned himself into the police and confessed to killing you."
Tim hadn't let go yet. "I'm sorry. He caught me by surprise. He… he stabbed me. Can I tell you the rest at home? I don't really want to have to go over everything several times."
Nightwing nodded and helped him into the passenger side of the Batmobile.
He then raised a hand to his comm. "This is Nightwing. I've got him. I've got Tim. Heading back to the cave now. He's alive."
The yelling, cheering, and crying nearly deafened him.
Yyyyy
Dick stepped back through the portal, hearing the sounds of the other Gotham fade as it closed behind him. He felt… hollow.
Numb.
Like there was a hole in him that had been punched out and now he would never be whole again.
"-meet you there. Yeah. Thanks." Jason stood off a ways from the rest of their family, talking on his phone.
Dick could see the intensity in his gaze, even though he was facing the vehicles. He could see the clench in his jaw. The way the hand that wasn't holding his phone instinctively came up to rest on his hip, right above his currently empty holster.
Dick wasn't the only one watching, and when Jason hung up and turned around, he seemed to notice that.
"Sorry, guys. I know this is a shitty time to take off, but Lian's come down with something. Roy says she's asking for me."
He turned to leave, but hesitated and turned back.
"See you later, kiddo." Jason ruffled Damian's hair, drew Alfred in for a brief but tight hug, and gave Bruce a somewhat awkward pat on the arm. He then stepped up to Dick, one arm raised for a hug.
Dick wrapped both arms tightly around his brother, holding on like Jason would be the next to disappear if he let go.
Jason was only caught off guard for a second. He then sighed and relented, hugging his brother back until he let go.
"I'll… I'll see you later, Dick."
"Go. Lian wants you, right?" Dick fought hard to keep his voice steady. It came out hoarse and he saw the concern in Jason's eyes. "Go."
Jason hesitated for just another moment, but then nodded. He walked off towards his motorcycle, threw on his jacket and helmet, and headed out the enterence tunnel.
The remaining four were silent as the mechanical roar faded with distance.
It was Damian who spoke first.
"So, we all know he's not going to Roy's, right?"
Alfred sighed deeply, not happy, but not disagreeing.
"Lian's with Ollie. He's going after Crane-,"
"Leave him." Bruce ordered softly. He turned to look back at the empty cot.
"... Are we… just going to let him..?"
"Come here." Dick picked Damian up and held him tight, burying his face in Damian's shoulder.
Damian didn't protest.
He didn't argue.
He looked around the room at what was left of his family and wrapped his arms around Dick's neck, letting himself be carried out of the room.
Yyyyy
Batman blinked at the sudden onslaught of rain pelting him in the face. The portal closed behind him and he gripped the device in his hand tighter. It looked like a detonation button used by so many of his enemies, but Flash had explained that it was his way back home once he'd found Tim. All he needed to do was press the button and the portal would once again open for him.
Now he just needed to find-,
TIMOTHY DRAKE-WAYNE
CHERISHED SON, BROTHER, FRIEND.
He was standing on…
No.
No, this was wrong.
He wasn't…
He couldn't…
But he was.
That was Tim's name.
And it was carved into a headstone.
And the dirt that Batman was currently standing on, despite the rain, was very clearly a fresh grave.
Tim.
He was standing on Tim's grave-,
No.
He shook his head firmly.
This wasn't his son's grave. The dirt was freshly turned, but not fresh enough for his Tim to be under it.
This was the Tim from this world. Flash had told him that he could send him to where Tim was, but he couldn't control which Tim he ended up with.
Which meant he had just found the reason his Tim had been taken.
With a growl, he turned towards the manor and made his way out of the family cemetery. Tim was HIS son, not some failed version of his's cheap second chance.
The front door slammed open and he marched in. The lights were all out, but that didn't slow him down. He knew the way around his house, lights on or off.
There were subtle differences, minor details, keeping him aware of the fact that this was not his house.
The most jarring of which was the young man emerging from the clock in his study, clutching the small assassin to his chest.
Instinctively, his heart panged with worry as he took in his sons' appearances, especially Dick. He looked worn, stressed, exhausted-,
No.
No, these boys weren't his sons.
And if there had been any residual doubt in his mind, it was gone the second Dick caught sight of him and froze, visceral terror on his face.
"Dami." He whispered to the boy in his arms. "Go get Bruce."
"Hm?" Damian turned around to see what had scared Dick, eyes widening at the sight of Batman standing still and silent in the doorway.
"Where is he?" Batman growled.
Damian wasted no time dropping to the floor and bolting back the way he and his brother had come. Batman moved to follow, but Dick sidestepped into his path.
"Stop! He's not down there!"
Batman grabbed a handful of Dick's shirt, yanking him close enough to his face to show he meant business. "Where is my son?"
"He's home. We- we sent-," Dick broke off when Batman threw him to the ground, the impact knocking the breath out of him.
"Dick, move!"
Batman jumped back, dodging a swinging fist, and countered with one of his own.
His doppelganger was quick to move out of the way, but strong enough to grab the outstretched fist and yank him off balance.
Batman used it to his advantage, throwing himself forward and tackling Bruce, pinning him to the ground.
"Where-,"
"Get off him!" Dick was suddenly behind him, arms wrapped around his neck in a chokehold.
It was skilled, Batman could tell, but weak.
Shifting slightly, he was able to get a leg between the two of them without losing his grip on Bruce and kicked the younger man off him. Dick hit the ground hard and was about to jump back up when the sound of a shotgun being cocked loudly made them all freeze.
"That is enough! Both of you, get to your feet and talk this out like the men I raised you to be." Alfred's accent always got thicker when he was mad, and Batman found himself obeying on instinct alone. Just for a moment, at least, but it was enough to let his captive slip free
"I don't have your son." Bruce stated firmly, hands raised as he walked around Batman to help Dick to his feet.
"Flash traced the portal that took him to this dimension-,"
"Yes. Because he was here. We sent him back home."
"Don't lie to me. I saw the grave outside!"
Bruce's eyes softened and, hands still raised defensively, put himself between Batman and Dick. "Yes. Our Tim… died. But that's not why I took your son. I promise, I was just trying to help. You wouldn't have made it in time."
"What do you mean?"
"He was hurt. By the time you got to him, he would have been dead. I couldn't let that happen again."
Batman narrowed his eyes, trying to tell if his counterpart was telling the truth.
"We saved him. We kept him alive. And then we gave him back." Dick stepped out from behind his father, holding his arm, matching Batman's stare without batting an eye. "We gave him back."
"He's alive?"
Alfred, shotgun still in hand, though pointed at the floor, nodded. "Your son is alive. He's going to be just fine. And he's probably safe in his own bed right now."
Batman, though still suspicious of the motives of the other Bruce and Dick, found himself unable to mistrust Alfred. Especially when he was describing the only thing in the world he wanted at that moment; Tim home safe.
"How… how did your son die?" He finally turned to Bruce. He needed to see the man's reaction. To see if there was any hint that this story was fabricated.
Bruce closed his eyes and lowered his head. "He was hiding a medical condition. He was injured one night and… I wasn't able to save him."
"What kind of medical condition?"
Dick and Bruce glanced at each other, and then Dick took over. "He lost his spleen a while back. And, yes. We checked and your Tim had the same injury."
Batman shook his head, turning it slowly one way and then the other. "You're lying. He wouldn't have-,"
"He did. He kept it from you because he didn't trust you." Dick glared daggers at him, rubbing his arm where he'd landed on it.
"Dick, thats-," Bruce reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, but Dick shrugged him off roughly.
"No! He didn't trust any of us! Not really." He threw his arms wide and gestured to the five of them, Damian standing firmly in front of Alfred. "If he did, he'd still be here. But he's not. He… he's dead." He shook his head, gritting his teeth. "We had to bury him. And if that wasn't bad enough, you won't even let us mourn in peace!"
Bruce flinched, but Dick wasn't done.
"You weren't the only one who lost someone! And yet, not once… Not one goddamn time have I had someone I love die and been allowed to mourn. Or miss them. Or even fucking process the fact that they're gone! When my parents died, I got an empty mansion, and an absent foster father. You couldn't even tell me that Jason died, I had to find that out on my own." Dick's cheeks were stained with tears and he was yelling, obviously having held this in for quite a while.
"Tim's dead, Bruce. But of course you just had to drag us all into… What the fuck were you thinking?" He broke off into a whisper.
"Dick, I'm sorry. I just… I'm sorry." Bruce looked heartbroken, and reached out to comfort Dick again, but Dick backed away.
"The only thing we got out of your stupid stunt is the knowledge that Timmy died thinking we didn't love him. That we all just saw him as a soldier."
"Greyson."
"Lad."
Damian and Alfred looked shocked. Shocked enough that they had both taken their eyes off Batman.
Dick laced his fingers behind his head and stared at the ceiling, both looking away from everyone now watching him and trying to stop crying. After a few seconds to calm himself down, he returned his glare to Batman. "He's not here. Just… just tell us what it will take to convince you, and get out of our house. Please."
"Son-," Bruce tried again.
"Stop. Just… leave me alone. I just want to be alone." Dick turned and left the room, brushing past his father.
Bruce hung his head and closed his eyes tightly, shame obvious on his face.
Batman felt a hand on his arm and turned to see Alfred. The old butler nodded his head towards the cave entrance, a signal for him to follow. With one last look at his counterpart, now making his own way out of the study, Batman did.
Damian brought up the rear as they descended the stone steps in silence.
Batman still had his guard up, but only just. He hadn't detected any deceit in the fight.
Just pain.
Dick's words had struck a chord with him. He had known he'd spent too much time on the job, but to see his oldest, typically optimistic child so broken? He couldn't help but wonder if he was in danger of losing more than just Tim.
"These are medical records of Tim's visit. They include what medications we gave him, and detailed notes of his progress." Alfred handed him a thin folder, marked simply 'Tim' in shaky handwriting.
He then felt a tap at his side and looked down to see Damian press a flash drive into his hand. "Security camera footage. So you can be sure we didn't harm him."
Damian visibly deliberated over saying more, but finally narrowed his eyes up at Batman. "What you've been doing hasn't been working. Timothy doesn't think the way the rest of us do. Greyson and Todd? They came from families. They were brought into your home as your sons, and later became your partners. Timothy was your partner first. When he became your son, his role didn't change, so he saw no reason to assume your relationship had changed. He never experienced a real family. He has no idea what that looks like. All he knows is he was brought into your house to do a job, and if he can no longer meet those expectations, then he is of no use to the team."
"What Master Damian is trying to say is… don't forget what you've seen here. Learn from our failings. We always just assumed that he knew how much we loved him. We always assumed that his obsessive working was just how he was." Alfred swallowed thickly. "Just because it was how we'd always known him to be, doesn't mean that his behavior was normal. Don't make our mistakes. Don't wait until it's too late to tell your son what he means to you."
Batman held the flash drive in the palm of his hand. It felt so much heavier than it had a second ago. Without a word, he nodded and pulled out his return device, pressing the button that would take him back to the Watchtower.
Yyyyy
The Zeta tube kicked on without warning and Batman jogged out. The light in the med bay was on. He couldn't get there fast enough. Boots thumped up the metal grated steps, and then across the stone floor.
And paused in the doorway.
Tim lay on the cot, blankets pulled up to his chest, showing off the tops of the bandages wrapping around his torso. The heart monitor's steady beeping accentuating the silence in the room.
But it was there.
Because a heartbeat was there.
"Where were you?" Nightwing, seated in a chair at his sleeping brother's bedside, kept his voice low.
Jason and Damian, both in civilian clothes, had pulled in their own chairs and were dozing on the other side of the bed.
"I was trying to get him back."
"He was asking for you. We couldn't reach you anywhere. We finally had to radio the Watchtower because we thought something had happened to you, only to find out that you'd-,"
"I know. Dick, I know." He removed his cowl and stepped closer to his boys, watching the rise and fall of Tim's chest.
He was alive.
He was alive and he was home.
Dick rubbed his temple, wincing. Whether in pain or annoyance, Bruce couldn't tell.
"How is he?"
"He lost a lot of blood. He says he spent most of his time over there asleep, and he was out like a light as soon as Alfred got his bandages replaced. The knife missed any major organs, but…"
Dick trailed off, watching as Bruce brushed Tim's bangs out of his face. They had been so close to losing him forever. For a while there, they'd thought they had.
But he was home now. He was home. And he was alive.
Bruce couldn't stop repeating those words in his mind.
Tim was home, and alive.
"We needed to call Leslie for help. Alfred's driving her back to her place now." Dick stopped talking until his father turned to him, showing he was listening. "He hasn't got a spleen, Bruce. And it wasn't because of this. He says he lost it a while back. He didn't tell anyone."
Bruce looked back down at Tim.
*He didn't trust any of us! Not really. If he did, he'd still be here.*
The other Dick's words rang in his mind.
"I'm pulling him out of the field."
"Do you think that's smart? You know what a workaholic he is. He'll see it as a punishment."
Bruce shook his head. "Just for a bit. Just so we can let him be Tim Drake." He picked up Tim's hand and held it, rubbing his fingers over the knuckles. "Just so we can make sure he's really okay."
Jason shifted in his sleep, letting out a sigh.
"What happened over there? With you?" Dick asked.
Bruce looked up at him, but saw the Other Dick. The one who looked tired and worn out. The one who'd fought to protect his family, even against an impossible opponent. The one who'd fought to save Bruce, despite being heartbroken and livid at him. The one who had been pushed too far and finally broke.
"I realized I've fallen short as a father. And have been for many years now."
Dick raised an eyebrow, but stood when Bruce walked around the bed to stand in front of him.
"Not just for Tim. I had no clue how to raise a child when I took you in. I messed up so many times in so many ways."
"What?"
"You're my son, Dick. All four of you are. And there is nothing in the world that is more important to me than my family. I know I haven't always been the best at showing that, but that's going to change."
On the bed, Tim shifted in his sleep, humming softly as he did so.
"... I met you over there. I heard some of the things he said to his father." Bruce wrapped his arms around his son, drawing him into a tight embrace. "I don't ever want to see you like that again. I don't ever want that to end up being us."
Dick sank into the hug, and Bruce was able to feel just how exhausted he must have been.
"I'm not losing another son. Not again."
That was a promise. One he'd be sure to keep no matter what. Nothing and no one would take his boys from him. Not so long as he was alive. Not even himself.
No.
Things were going to change. Things were going to be different.
They were going to be okay.