Chapter Text
Damian ended up getting to the mansion a few mere seconds before Tim did. By the time he was about to be let in, Tim was pulling up in his bike, hastily pulling off his helmet to catch up with Damian so as to not be late.
When they walked through the double door entrance of the manor and were only greeted by Jason, Damian only found it a little weird that he wasn’t also being greeted by their youngest but he supposed that it didn’t happen every time he came over so it wasn’t all too odd. He was sure that in the next minute, he would hear two loud running feet slamming down the stairs to get to Tim and himself as fast as he could.
“Dami! Tim! You’re here!” Jason, the street rat who had been infected by Dickie’s need for physical affection, wrapped his arms around his oldest brothers for the briefest of hugs before pulling away. “Alfred is finishing up dinner and Bruce is doing some last minute paperwork. I think Dickie is still up in his room though, he probably heard you and is gonna come running any minute.”
Nodding, Damian walked to the kitchen to say hello to their grandfather. Tim and Jason made idle conversation trailing behind him, kind of catching up with one another since the last week they had seen each other in civvies.
When Damian was younger, he had been opposed to growing their family. He liked being the only son Bruce doted on even if he had been a difficult father to grow up with (he ended up getting better the more kids he had), and being able to monopolize Alfred’s time.
So it was hard when Tim was adopted by Bruce and Damian was not a great older brother to him. But he was impressed when he heard that Tim had somehow managed to sniff out Batman and Robin’s identities. Not to mention how he managed to stalk them (sweet Dick, also known as Damian’s biggest fan, still to this day couldn’t figure out how Tim went undetected by the original partner of Batman who had an intensive background in assassination and various techniques).
Tim ended up growing on him and somehow Damian was now the older of three younger brothers. Crazy how that works.
Damian thinks he’s probably closest to Dickie, but the dynamic between the two of them was different from Jason and Tim.
When B was lost in time, Damian had stepped into the Batman suit and had almost completely taken over as Dick’s father figure. They hung out like parents would with their children. Damian went to school events and gymnastics tournaments and took Dick to get ice cream.
And not that those were inherently parental actions but Damian caught himself more than once thinking of Dick not as his younger brother but also as his own son. It was weird and when he thought about it for too long he felt a rising heaviness of guilt for wanting Dick to be his own.
Needless to say that while Bruce was gone, Damian had papers he would’ve been ready to sign.
But B came back and the original Batman no longer needed to be replaced. Damian reluctantly allowed himself to drift back into the background of Dick’s life, but that didn’t even happen because Dick steadfastly held onto Damian, dragging Damian back into his life over and over again.
So yeah. He felt like somewhere between a father and a brother for Dick and he was sure Dick felt the same kind of connection.
There was some time when he felt guilty towards his other brothers for making it seem like they might not be adored the same as Dick, but Jason was pretty quick to let him know that they could read between the lines and knew Dick was more of a son than a little brother.
It almost brought a smirk to Damian’s lips thinking about how Jason wrinkled his nose. “Me? I’m definitely your brother, I can’t even picture you as a dad of mine. I’d much rather be a brother that you can count on when it gets rough.” Jay had a long way to go still.
Tim had a similar reaction. “Big Bird, you’ll always be my brother. No way in hell I would be caught dead calling you dad.”
That felt fair, they were really only a few years apart from each other in age.
All of his brothers held a special place in Damian’s heart that was meant for nobody else but his family. He didn’t necessarily tell them how much he cared, but he hoped it showed through in other aspects of their lives.
A loud shriek coming from the second floor had Damian as well as Tim sitting straight up, all alerts and alarms sounding in their heads.
Earlier they had moved into the kitchen, greeting Alfred with salutations before sitting at a comfortable sized table in the keeping room attached to the kitchen watching as Alfred chopped vegetables and threw them into a bubbling soup on the stove and watched with careful eyes as the old man pulled freshly baked bread out of the oven.
Jason made ample conversation with his older brothers, currently in a debate with Tim over the magic that somehow prevented the batmobile from getting into car crashes on busy city roads when other cars couldn’t see them.
“Jay, why don’t you go find Dick? He’s missing out on his brothers,” Tim said.
Lazy, Tim, just lazy sending Jason to go get Dick.
But it was a little sad that their youngest and Bruce still hadn’t popped their heads in to say hi so Jason was swift to excuse himself to go find the younger and maybe B if he wanted. They were much more eager to see Dick than Bruce.
When the footsteps grew distant, Tim turned to Damian with a conspiring grin that made Damian roll his eyes the barest amount and lightly elbow him in the arm.
“How’s Conner?” Yeah, this was Damian’s mini revenge on Tim for being lazy. Everyone and their mother knew that Tim and Kon had been pining after one another for years and were just circling one another.
The choked out cough that escaped Tim’s mouth made the corners of Damian’s lips turn up in amusement. But Tim recovered quickly and they were bantering back and forth within seconds.
But then he heard a loud screech and Damian was already starting to get up out of his chair with Timmy right behind him.
Looking over at their grandfather, Alfred had already paused his motion over a mixing bowl and was inching towards the pantry at his back that Damian knew hid a shotgun from both Bruce and intruders.
Tim and Damian were just barely out of their chairs when a scream pierced the air.
“Dami!”
The oldest brothers were off in a shot and Damian wasn’t sure he had ever moved faster and in hindsight wondered if Tim was always as fast as he was in the current moment.
Jason was calling for him, his voice laced with all kinds of panic and… fear?
It could mean many different things.
Was someone in the house? Were Bruce and Dick ok? Was someone dead? Oh God, was Dick dead? Damian didn’t spiral often, but he was definitely spiraling now.
Racing up the stairs, with both thunderous footsteps and completely silent ones, they reached the top. Glancing down the darkish hallways, Damian saw Jason standing a few inches out of the doorway of Bruce’s office, the lights of the office lighting up the front of his body as both of Jason's hands covered his mouth.
What did he see? What’s going on?
Tim hadn’t stopped moving and neither had Damian. They were close to an arms length away from Jason when they heard it.
“Jay, wait–”
Oh. That was Bruce’s voice. He was ok. Damian only allowed the slightest bit of worry to ebb away.
Zip .
A zipper?
Damian first grabbed Jason by the shoulder, looking into his eyes and he pulled the smaller boy back from the door, trying to check him over quickly for injuries. He wasn’t bleeding. Jason's eyes were wet and his wide blue eyes were flickering between Damian’s green eyes.
Was he in shock?
Damian heard a gasp from his other brother who had chased after him. Tim.
Pulling Jason even farther back, Damian stepped in front of him, protecting him from whatever he had seen and fully turning to investigate what both his brothers had now borne witness to.
Oh. Damian was going to be sick.
The first thing he took in was Bruce’s large form slowly walking over to them in the door, his hands raised up like he was surrendering or maybe trying to calm down a horse. His father’s face was slightly flushed and a little sheen of sweat. Absently Damian realized his pants were zipped but his belt hung from the loops in his dress pants unbuckled.
The next was Dick. Dick was on his knees, his bottom settled on the heels of his feet and his shoulders slumped. Damian couldn’t tell if it was in defeat or exhaustion.
The back of Dick’s arm was roughly wiping on his face and over his eyes.
Tears were streaming down his small face, his whole face flushed a bright red. His hair was all over the place and his eyes were not only brimming with tears but were just as swollen and his lips were.
Dick was now looking back at him unmoving, silently sobbing and hiccuping.
That was when Damian saw it. The little speck of something on Dick’s cheek that he must’ve missed when he was wiping at his face.
The speck was not a speck, it was a drop of opaque white.
A cold bucket of water must’ve been dropped on him. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together.
Damian moved.
—
For how quiet it once had been, it had really been like an explosion going off in the office. Dick wasn’t really sure what happened, he was still in a haze collecting himself slowly.
He could pick out yelling and frantic talking but he didn’t know who was who. He hears the sound of a strong punch followed by a few slaps and catches a glimpse of the large expanse of Bruce as he stumbles taking a few steps back. Some part of Dick wants to laugh at that. Something must happen in the next few seconds because there are now two more people rushing into the room.
If he could count, he would realize five people were in the room. It had been Jason and Alfred.
As much as he wanted to tune out all of the clamoring he couldn’t.
There’s a face in front of him saying something but Dick is doing his best to block it out. They’re consistent in talking to him, trying to get Dick to engage and he’s slowly starting to come back again.
Jason is in front of him. He’s kneeling on one knee, the other tucked into his chest as he leaned over in front of Dick.
“...you listening? Dickie! Dick!”
Dick’s eyelids flutter open and close a few stray tears sliding down, they’re burning and he can hear again.
“Can you hear me now? You were really out of it, Dickie.” Yeah, no shit. Dick didn’t want to even try to think about the complications of what was coming. Because everyone knew now.
A sob tore its way up his throat and Jason is waving his arms around trying not to touch him, but also wanting to calm his little brother.
His voice is hoarse, “J–Jay…” That was all it took for Dick to fall into absolute devastation, his lungs were burning again attempting not to choke on the gulps of air he was taking in between sobs.
“I know, I know, Dickie.” Jay’s bluey green eyes are shedding tears too. How long has Jason been crying for? “Can I touch you? Let me wipe your face, little bro.”
Dick nodded, he just wanted a hug.
Jason is pulling tissues out of God-knows-where and starts wiping at his brother’s cheek. Jason doesn’t allow himself to make any noise as he cries, he doesn’t want it to freak Dick out even more, but he couldn’t stop the salty tears. He threw the tissues away from them, repulsed.
How horrible was it to be wiping his dad’s cum off of the face of his only younger brother?
His dad .
How long has Bruce not been Dick’s dad? How did he not know?
Jason is pulled from his thoughts by his brother, younger than him by four years leaning forward and resting his head into the crook of his neck. Dick nuzzles into him and all Jason can do is wrap his arms around his brother tightly and squeeze. Jason rests his head on top of Dicks.
He tried not to think about whatever residue might've rubbed into his sweater.
—
Tim wouldn’t say he was the type to become volatile or maybe turbulent when things turned to shit. But that was Tim who hadn’t yet taken a dip in the lazarus pits.
Fucking lazarus pits.
Honestly the pits didn’t really leave many lasting effects on him, but in quick escalations of emotions, like rage, his emotions got unnecessarily heightened. Tim had a pretty good grasp of his emotions, and his anger could be wrangled in and held back just long enough for the lifelong consequences of the lazarus pit to dissipate and allow him to express himself like someone who hadn’t taken a dip in the lazarus pits would.
The sight Tim walked in on made him see red.
What might’ve just stopped at rage turned into an inexplicable hot flaming fury that burned in his whole body from the top of his head to the bottoms of his feet.
The second that Tim had heard that high and fearful yelp from upstairs, Tim’s head was full of trepidation that reared towards worry and anxiety. Jason calling for Damian wasn’t just a cry for the oldest but really was meant for both of them and Tim hadn’t needed to be told before he was gone like a shot.
Tim didn’t spare a glance at the other men in the room as he jumped up, mind only focused on getting to Jason. Thoughts were running crazy, his mind wandered to the other two people of his family who weren’t present downstairs with him, Damian, Jason, and Alfred.
He didn’t know what was going on but he hoped to God nothing was wrong. Mentally jabbing himself, Tim knew that was a false hope, nothing more than wishful thinking.
Something in the back of his mind whispered that something was going to change drastically. A landslide – or many just a shitshow was going to crush them and drown them with no one to pull them out and give them CPR. Fuck.
He watches as Damian, only two paces in front of him, nudges Jason from the doorway who was looking into the office with so many emotions phasing across his face. Ok, Damian got Jason.
Time to face the music.
Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck. Tim let out a choked breath.
It’s wrong to hesitate in the field because it can lead to dangerous repercussions and even though Tim knows that he can’t pull his eyes away from what he was seeing and what he had lasered in on.
Worry became awareness. Awareness became rage. Rage became fury.
He doesn’t know what specific part of the image made him realize that something unfathomable was unfolding in front of him.
“Boys, listen to me for a second. I can explain.” Bruce was walking towards them, hand held up in something akin to surrender and his older brother who had just been next to him was moving.
Damian’s face was dark. Dark and scary. Tim doesn’t see it until it’s happening.
A fist is raised and slams into Bruce’s pinkish and sweaty face. He hopes it fucking hurt.
Bruce’s balance shifts a bit and before he even has time to get better, Damian is raising his fist again and this time Bruce actually stumbles back.
“Father. What did you do.” The words didn’t leave Damian’s mouth like a question. It was a statement and Tim knew that Damian knew.
“It’s not like that, let’s sit down–” Bruce wasn’t even fighting back.
Yeah, Bruce. It was like that and if Tim heard anything it was an admission of guilt.
Pure wrath was gaining control over Tim and his hands which had been tightly gripped into fists unfurled. Ferocity continued to slam into Tim with every rapid heartbeat.
The mood to listen to some “explain yourself” bullshit was nowhere to be seen because frankly there was no explanation. Bruce dug his own grave and now Tim was going to lay him in it.
Tim was pushing Damian out of the way in seconds, fisting the collar of Bruce’s stupid rich-guy sweater. “You–Bruce what have you done?! Did you rape my little brother!”
Bruce doesn’t push Tim away but instead gives him a curious look, one of his eyebrows twitching upwards like he didn’t know what Tim was talking about.
“Fa–Bruce. Do you not understand?” Damian didn’t call B his father.
Biting the inside of his cheek Tim squeezes his eyes shut and tries to reign in some semblance of himself.
Fuck that.
His eyes snap open and his hand is cracking down onto Bruce’s cheek. He lets out a frustrated cry of pure resentment, slapping and hitting Bruce, Tim doesn’t stop his assault until he feels Damian raising his voice for him to stop and is actively trying to rid of Tim’s fingers that are tangled in his father’s shirt.
“What the fuck!”
Damian, always the unpredictable older sibling, is saying something that will most definitely keep the second oldest from cooling down. “Tim, calm down.”
Calm down? Calm down?! What the fuck did Damian think he was doing? This guy had been just as angry mere moments ago, who the fuck was he to tell Tim to calm down!
“Get out of the way, Dami. I’m not playing around this time.”
The already open door opens further but Bruce is still in front of him not escaping his watchful eye so Tim easily ignores the fact that Alfred now stood in front of the door or how Jason is rushing past them.
“There’s other ways!”
“Bullshit. I’m going to kill this fucker if it’s the last thing I do, the fuck!”
“I get it, I really do, but we need to know more before we just go off and kill someone. Tim, we aren’t even killers. This is not what we’ve been trained to do.” He said that, but Damian wonders if they were taught that so their father could pull all of these types of stunts. Fuck, that was a dangerous thought to approach.
Damian knew exactly what his younger brother meant. He was just as angry. He wants to argue he might be even more mad. That was his son .
But there are questions needing to be asked and Bruce was going to have to be the one to answer them.
There were better punishments than just beating someone within an inch of their life. That was good, but Damian had ideas.
There’s a shimmer in Tim’s eyes and Damian knows that his lazarus boosted levels of emotions were starting to dwindle, simmering down the smallest of fractions.
The tears that threatened to spill weren’t falling. “Do you? Is that what you think? Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Tim wasn’t going to let them fall, not in front of Bruce.
Damian looks at him, holding onto the wrist of the hand that had yet to shake its grip on Bruce Wayne’s collar.
“Dami, this isn’t something that can just be fixed .” Tim’s tones are hushed between the two of them.
Bruce is still there. Damian was happy to ignore him.
“Master Dick!”
Three heads whip to the door and see Alfred drop the shotgun he had brought with him from downstairs and briskly strut around them. His words click in their minds. Dick.
He’s curled into Jason and it would be adorable and picture worthy if it wasn’t for every fucked up part of the image. Damian’s stomach churned.
They were both crying, Dick’s face was hidden from view but his body is no less racking with sobs. Jason was silent but his face was wet and his jaw was clenched, lips tightly sealed to prevent any noise from escaping.
“Come, children. Let’s get you washed up,” Alfred was leaning down, hunched over trying to usher the kids to their feet. Neither moved.
Tim was letting go quickly to help, Bruce was forgotten the moment Jay and Dickie needed it.
Bruce took a step forward like he was going too. His eldest son grabbed his arm tight enough to bruise. “Not you. Not after what you did.”
“Damian, nothing happened.”
Damian’s eye twitched, “Don’t lie to me, we both know what happened.”
He could see his biological father’s eye flick between his eyes, searching for something. Damian hoped it wasn’t pity because there was none. Damian was empty.
“Let’s talk.”