Chapter Text
He appeared in front of Damian’s very eyes. One minute, he was alone on a roof near Crime Alley, crouched down and watching his father as Batman interrogate a subject down in the alley below.
The next minute, he was not alone on the roof.
Damian started as a figure instantaneously appeared right next to him. He stared as the figure recoiled slightly - they were in the exact same position, mirroring each other, crouched down ready to spring. Crouched in the darkness as they were, Damian could only make out a head of black hair rigidly gelled into place and a domino mask. The rest of him was shrouded with a yellow cape.
Damian frowned, and leaned towards the other boy. He leaned back infinitesimally, but it allowed Damian a glimpse of bright-green boots peeking out from the edge of the cape. The other boy was wearing a Robin costume.
It didn’t look like another one of his mother’s clones - the other boy definitely wasn’t a copy of Damian, and Mother never sent them directly in a Robin suit, anyways. He still wasn’t saying anything, and Damian was just becoming impatient enough to consider breaking the silence when-
“Robin,” his father’s voice called through the air, emanating from the communicator in the collar in Damian’s hood. The other boy was close enough hear, and although it was hard to tell with the mask, Damian thought he had raised his eyebrows. Otherwise there was no emotion. “I have the information we need,” Batman continued. “Meet me at the Batmobile.”
Damian inclined his head slightly to speak into the comm unit. “In a minute, Batman,” he said cautiously, not taking his eyes off the stranger. “I seem to have found myself some unexpected company.”
“Report,” Batman demanded immediately. “Are you in any danger?”
Damian tilted his head further at the stranger. “That remains to be seen,” he said. The other boy shook his head - finally, a reaction! “I don’t think so,” Damian continued.
On the other end of the line, Batman sighed. “Robin, please tell me it’s not another cat.”
The other boy smiled.
“It’s not a cat,” Damian answered crossly. “And that was one time.”
“Then what is it?”
The other Robin stood up, and Damian followed his lead, lowering his hood as he did so. The boy’s cape was much shorter when standing, and did nothing to hide the boy’s short sleeves, and bare legs, and oh lord it was the old Robin costume, the one Grayson and Todd had worn back in their days.
“Maybe you should come see for yourself,” Damian told Batman.
There was a soft click as the channel disconnected, and Damian knew his father would be coming up the to rooftop shortly. “So, you’re Robin,” the other boy said. His voice sounded more like Grayson than Todd ( which made his heart seize a little inside his chest ), but Damian hadn’t heard what either of their voices sounded like before puberty, so he couldn’t be sure.
“I’m Robin,” he confirmed. “And you’re...some sort of Robin.”
Other Robin nodded. “And you have your Batman, so...maybe this is an alternate universe,” he answered.
“Maybe,” Damian answered, eyes flicking down again to the scaly green speedo. He didn’t want to look at it, but it was so ugly he couldn’t quite look away. “Aren’t you cold?” he blurted out.
They were suddenly interrupted by Batman swinging over the side of the roof, and Damian knew he had lost the other boy’s attention. “It’s July,” the other boy answered absently, staring Batman up and down. He then glanced back to Damian. “It is July, right?”
“July 22nd, 2017,” Damian answered.
“Yeah, that’s - wait,” the other boy said, “Two thousand and seventeen ?”
Damian glanced back at his father. “How did this happen?” Batman asked, voice as gravelly as ever.
“He just appeared,” Damian supplied. “No noise or sound or air displacement that I could tell.”
Other Robin frowned. “I’d say the same thing about you,” he said. “I was waiting on the roof, and suddenly you were there, but then I looked around and all the buildings seem slightly different and apparently it's 17 years later.” He made a motion to his gauntlet, where the comm unit used to be stored in the Robin costume. “Batman’s not responding to my calls.”
“An outdated system?” Damian guessed, looking at his father for confirmation. Batman was frowning, but that wasn’t unusual. “A simple time travel?”
“There’s no such thing as a simple time travel,” Batman growled, but he seemed to agree with Damian’s conclusion, or enough of it, anyways. “Batmobile, both of you. I’ll send the case information to Oracle - maybe she can do something with it tonight.”
“Yes, Batman,” Damian, answered, and walked over to the other Robin - the potential Grayson from the past. The closer he got, the more the first Robin’s stature bewildered him. He objectively knew that Grayson had never been a particularly tall man, but he’d always been taller than Damian, at least. This boy was tiny. “You can follow me,” Damian said to him, doing his best to infuse some kindness into his voice. “The best way down is-”
“I can climb down a three story building,” the boy snapped. He didn’t wait for Damian as he took a running leap and vaulted off the edge of the roof, doing two somersaults in the air before falling from Damian’s line of vision. Damian sprinted over to the edge of the building in time to see the smaller Robin slide down a rain gutter pipe, kicking off the end to do a back handspring and land on his feet. He crossed his arms and stared back up at Damian. “Well, are you coming?” he shouted.
Damian whipped his head back around and gaped at his father. “Did you see that?” he challenged. “He didn’t - he didn’t even look before he jumped!”
“If this is a simple time travel case and he is who he appears to be,” Batman answered, “That was always one of his problems.”
“Tt,” Damian said, pulling out his grappling hook and aiming a lot more self-consciously than usual, swinging down to the ground a few meters from the other boy. The guy Batman was interrogating early was handcuffed on the ground with his mouth covered in duct tape. “The Batmobile’s this way,” Damian answered, and started leading the way on the ground before Gray- the other Robin could get ahead again. He ignored the way the other Robin hmpf -ed at him for taking the front seat, and reached for the cautionary blindfold for the stranger to wear on the way back to the Batcave.
“Are you sure it’s actually Grayson?” Damian asked his father. The lab tests had all come back DNA-match positive, but it was his father’s test that really mattered. “Not a clone? Not an alternate universe? A clone from an alternate universe?”
His father’s cowl was down, which was really all the answer Damian needed. “He answered all the questions exactly as 10-year-old Dick would.”
“Mind control?” Damian offered. “There has to be something.”
Father raised his eyebrow. “You don’t trust my judgement?”
Damian glanced back into the holding room through the one-way glass. “Just look at him,” he said. “He’s so - sulky! That’s not Grayson! The real Grayson has two moods: happy, and asleep.”
“He had more than two moods, Damian,” Father corrected. “This is what he was like at this age.”
Damian stoically ignored the use of past tense. “Everyone described him as a child as a ray of sunshine that vomited rainbows and butterflies,” Damian said. “That he brought you out of your dark shell.”
“Dick was an excellent actor,” Father said, “And he had a very good Robin persona. Being responsible for a child was grounding. He did help me very much, Damian.”
“I don’t trust him,” Damian announced, crossing his arms.
“That’s fine,” Father answered. “I need you to keep an eye on him for me. I have to go make some calls, see how we can send him back to wherever he came from.”
“Fantastic,” Damian drawled. “I’m a babysitter.”
“You’re a guard,” Father corrected. “Just keep him occupied for a little while, alright?”
“Fine,” Damian answered. He watched his father cross back over to the main area, towards the direction of the Bat computer, and then reluctantly let himself into the small Grayson’s holding room.
Damian was still in full Robin regalia, but the little Grayson had taken off his gloves and his mask. It made the resemblance to adult Grayson easier to identify. “Robin,” Grayson greeted stiffly, folding his hands in front of him on the table.
Damian took the seat opposite. “Grayson,” he acknowledged. “Batman is going to do some more investigative work into your circumstances. I am here to ask you a few questions.”
Grayson’s eyes flickered over his uniform, from the R to the cape to the utility belt. “Fine,” he said.
“You’re ten years old?”
“Yes,” Grayson answered immediately. “How old are you?”
“I’m twelve,” Damian answered, “but I became Robin when I was ten, too. Did Batman tell you who I am?”
“Bruce said your name was Damian,” Grayson challenged.
“Damian Wayne,” he said. Grayson wrinkled his nose a little, and Damian pretended not to notice the flinch by unbuckling his own gauntlets and sliding them off the join Grayson’s on the table. The mask was loose enough after several hours to be peeled off fairly easily as well. There, now they were even. “Well, I suppose my father trusts you, then.”
“Of course he does,” Grayson answered. He tilted his head. “If you’re twelve, and it’s 2017, then you’re not even born yet in my time.”
“I am not.”
“Who’s your mom?” Grayson asked. “Does she fight crime, too?”
Damian thought of his mother’s latest world domination attempt. “Unfortunately not,” he said. “I’m not sure if I can tell you.”
Grayson nodded, looked down at his hands, and then suddenly wrinkled his nose. “It’s not Catwoman, is it?”
“No!” Damian shouted. “Definitely no!”
“It’s just, earlier, Batman said the thing with the cats-”
“That was one time!” Damian answered hotly. “One time, I left patrol. There was a whole litter of kittens stuck in the tree. It was completely justified. They were making a racket.”
Grayson snickered. It was juvenile, but it reminded Damian a lot of regular Grayson’s cackle when he had just played a prank on Father, and Damian felt himself relax a little. “Completely justified,” he repeated, just to see child Grayson smile.
“Can I ask you something?” Grayson asked suddenly, and continued before Damian could point out he just did. “How did you get to be Robin?”
There was a general rule about dealing with time-travelers that said Don’t Tell Them Too Much About the Future, but he had already told Grayson his name, so this one fact probably wouldn’t hurt. “I always wanted to fight alongside Batman,” Damian said, carefully avoiding most of his own assassin-filled childhood. “You made me Robin, actually. Future you.”
“Really?” small Grayson said. He looked pleased. “Oh, good. I gave you Robin. Of course.” He looked at the door. “Is future me here? Am I allowed to see me? It’s not going to cause space time paradox or something, is it?”
No, actually, future you is- Damian forced his face to remain smooth. “You moved away from Gotham when you turned 18,” Damian answered. “You come to visit sometimes, but it might be best to avoid yourself...just in case. Of a paradox.”
“18?” Grayson echoed. “You must have been just a baby!”
“It wasn’t because of me,” Damian told him quickly. “From the way you describe it, you just wanted to be your own hero, instead of Batman’s Robin.”
Grayson made a face. “I guess,” he said. “I like being Robin, though.”
“Besides,” Damian corrected, “When you were 18, I was 3. Not a baby.” He wasn’t sure why it was so important to have tiny Grayson understand that Damian didn’t drive him away, even in this imaginary implied scenario where they had grown up in the same household. It’s not like it mattered whether this tiny Grayson liked him or not.
Then again. This was the only Grayson he could get, apparently.
Small Grayson was studying him. “Am I a good big brother?” he asked cautiously.
“The best,” Damian answered, far too quickly.
Grayson smiled widely, his eyes sparkling, and he looked just liked his adult self in that moment when he was proud.
This was spiraling out of control far faster than Damian was comfortable with. He should not be making friends with this small, fragile child that would shortly be getting sent back to his own time anyways. After all, Damian had been very good friends with adult Grayson, and look what had happened to the both of them.
“Do you want some snacks?” Damian offered.
Grayson wasn’t hungry, but he was very excited about the abbreviated tour of the Batcave, despite how little explanation Damian would offer about any changes. “It’s so much bigger now,” Grayson marveled. “And it’s so high tech!”
Father had noticed, of course, and sent Damian a stare that clearly said What happened to not trusting him?
Damian jerked his head in Grayson’s direction in response, to where Grayson was loudly admiring with the new and improved Batsuit. One compliment and the sunshine and rainbows are back. Honestly, Father.
Father nodded at him and turned back to his work.
“So if I gave you Robin,” Grayson said later, as they were coming out of the large locker room and into the main training center, “Did I train you at all?”
Damian smiled, trying not to look wistful. “There was a year I trained with you almost exclusively,” he said.
“Really?” Grayson asked. He looked around the gym. “I dare you to show me what you learned.”
“You dare me?” Damian echoed. “What are we, child-” he cut himself off with the embarrassing reminder that yes, actually, they were children. Especially Grayson, who was younger than Damian now. “Fine,” he said instead. “What do you want to do, the balance beam? You always liked that, even though it’s not really practical - or the rings? Those are new. You were so pleased when Father put them in. Of course, they’re only there so you would stop MacGyvering similar contraptions from the grappling hooks.”
“It took Bruce that long to put rings in?” Grayson asked, a little upset. “Those actually would be useful in compat.”
“Oh, please, in what combat situation would you be dangling from a stationary rope like a marionette - wait. No. I am not having this conversation with you again, Grayson,” Damian snapped. “Look, there’s the stationary trapeze. That’s been here since your day, right?”
Tiny Grayson giggled, looking around. “Yeah, that’s the same,” he said. “Actually, I was thinking we could spar?”
“Spar?” Damian echoed, looking down at Grayson. “It wouldn’t be a fair fight. I’ve been trained to kill since birth, and you’re tiny.”
Grayson immediately scowled. “I’m not tiny,” he said. “At the circus people were always worried I would grow too big to be an acrobat.”
“You’re only-” Damian started, but had to stop to roll out of the way of a kick to the chest. “We’re not even in the arena!” he called as Grayson advanced. “You barely have any martial arts training!”
“Bruce says I’m a natural!” Grayson yelled back.
Damian stopped back up. “Fine, you asked for it,” he said, and pounced.
Grayson had the audacity to laugh as he dodged away, flipping to the top of the pommel horse only to attack Damian from the high ground a second later. The young boy had enough momentum to knock Damian over, but if Damian had really wanted to he could have pinned Grayson right then and there.
He didn’t. He rolled back and shoved Grayson off him, flipping up onto the pommel horse instead. “Is that all you’ve got?” he asked.
Grayson pushed himself back up. “Fine, so you’re heavy,” he taunted.
“I can throw,” Damian corrected.
“I bet you’re slow,” Grayson said.
Damian leapt as high off the pommel horse as he could. It really wasn’t high enough for anything more than a somersault, so Damian flung himself sideways instead, getting in an impressive three rotations before landing on all fours and spinning to take his rival’s legs out. It was a move Nightwing employed, usually as a recovery if he was thrown. When Grayson was Batman, he’d made Damian practice aerial recoveries for weeks.
Young Grayson dodged easily, but he called out, “Not bad for a slowpoke!” as he jumped away, detonating a few smoke bombs behind him. When the smoke cleared, he was far away on top of a pile of weights and grinning.
When Father came to fetch them 10 minutes later, Grayson had climbed the cable from the trapeze all the way up to the ceiling and Damian had taken a gouge out of the balance beam with his sword. “Robin,” he called out dangerously, planting his hands on his hips. He was glaring at Damian. “What on earth were you doing in here, and why did you feel property damage was necessary?”
Damian immediately lowered his sword, bristling on the outside. Father was assuming the worst, and it was unfair. So what, he had tried to kill Drake a few years before. He would never hurt a child. “Sorry, Father,” he said stiffly.
Young Grayson slid back down the cable to the floor, also looking slightly guilty. “Damian and I were just playing,” he said. “Come on, Bruce, lighten up.”
Damian watched his father look from the two of them, to the hole in the balance beam, and over to the barbell section where there were a lot of fallen 40lb weights. And then back to Damian, one eyebrow raised, slightly. Playing? He silently asked.
Damian looked down at the floor, well aware that his cheeks were burning.
“You two can clean this up tomorrow,” Father said finally. “Now, it’s bedtime. Change out of your uniforms - Dick, Alfred brought down some pajamas that should fit you, and he’s making up your room for you now. The clothes are in the changing room.”
“Awesome,” little Grayson said easily, taking a step in that direction. “Coming, Damian?”
“In a moment,” Damian answered. Grayson seemed to accept this answer easily, and padded off to leave Damian alone with his father.
Father beat him to the draw. “What really happened here?”
“We were just sparring,” Damian said defensively.
“He’s smaller than you now, Damian. If you hurt him-”
“I won’t! We were just having fun,” Damian interrupted hotly, and changed the subject before his remark could be examined any more closely. “Which room are you putting him in?”
“I’m putting him in the room he’s always slept in,” Bruce said. “Alfred’s sweeping it now to make sure there’s nothing-”
“Has anyone even been in there since it happened?” Damian asked.
“No one’s been in Dick’s room since he died, Damian,” Father answered. “Except you.”
Damian scowled down at the ground.
“Don’t tell Dick what happens to himself,” Father ordered. “And also, don’t go telling anyone that Dick’s still alive, either. It would be cruel of you to start a rumor that spreads false hope.”
“I won’t tell, Father,” Damian promised the floor. “I’m not cruel.”
“I know, Damian,” Father answered. “Go on to bed, then.”
Damian turned around without meeting his Father’s eyes, and went to meet small Grayson in the changing room.