Chapter Text
He was embarrassed. So very deeply embarrassed. One small mistake that *he* of all people shouldn't have made and now he was under the judging eye of Drake of all people. It had been a simple robbery. Everyday stuff in Gotham, yet Damian had taken a hit. Cut somewhat deep by a blade. He pushed the fault to being unfamiliar with Fawcett. To most people there wouldn't be much of a difference between the two cities, but everything was different. How the people moved, how they reacted, even the shadows weren't right. In Gotham the shadows felt as familiar and safe as his mother's embrace, but in Fawcett they felt like strangers that wanted him gone. It evoked something in Damian that he had been fighting with for the past few weeks or rather months. He had somewhat easily agreed to share the moniker of Robin with his twin. He had to acknowledge her strength, she must've been trained by their mother during the time Damian was trained by their Father. Another reason why he had agreed to share the name, was that he felt he couldn't refuse in the end. Faced with the hopeful face of Richard after the duel he just couldn't say no. After all what claim did he really have to decide who is allowed to use the title ? It didn't even matter much that they were both of the same blood, every Robin before him had at some point passed on the title, willingly or not. Even if they now sometimes joke about regretting it, Damian knows that in the end they probably don't actually mean it, at least not anymore. All of his siblings seem to have accepted that life had happened and had taken Robin from them. So how could he dare to try and hold onto it still.
Admittedly he had decided to go to Fawcett without Athanasia to be alone. To be the only Robin again even if just for a night. Yet his mind couldn't let him enjoy it. Constantly he thought about what he should do next. If he should take on a new moniker. If he should ask his sister to change her moniker. He was split between feeling like a baby bird, pushed out of the nest too early falling towards the ground and being the cuckoo– the unwanted parasite that would push the other baby bird out of the nest.
He wanted to be neither. But he felt flightless– trapped by his own feelings and fears. He was unsure who he was without *Robin*, unsure if he ever wanted to find out.
Damian winced as Drake tightly wrapped a bandage around his wound, suddenly ripped from his thoughts. He felt his cheeks flush even redder then they had already been as he realized that he had let them get a hold of him again.
''No need to be embarrassed, everyone gets hurt. You've gotten hurt before,'' Drake hummed. Damian looked away from him, he really regretted not just using the closest Zeta to get back to the cave.
''I am not embarrassed, Drake,'' he hissed.
''Sure. keep telling yourself that.'' Drake rolled his eyes. As much as Damian wanted to act tough, knife wounds always hurt, and so did his own thoughts. Damian let his eyes wander over the room, trying to find a distraction. There wasn't much worth noting. The only thing that kept his gaze for longer was the big print of a painting by John Constable. 'Salisbury Cathedral from the Bishop's Grounds' was its title. Damian knew it as he quite liked how the artist had depicted the cows grazing in front of the cathedral. The way the cathedral was bathing in sunlight and framed by the foliage in the foreground, he liked it so much he had tried to paint a version of it with Wayne Manor and Batcow. Unfortunately the Manor seemed dark even on the sunniest of days. He had still finished it, he was not one to quit, and had gifted it to Richard for his birthday. The first gift he had given him. His brother had smiled brighter than the sun had shone on the days he had painted. Just remembering it made Damian's heart swell a bit with pride. He knew that Richard had hung it in his living room in his apartment in Blüdhaven, as if it was the most important thing in there. It was only out done by the wall of pictures of all kinds of people, going back years and years. Even to years long before Damian had been born. He wouldn't admit it but he loved looking at them. Seeing how Richard smiled when he was around his loved ones. As much as he loved it, it did always leave a certain bitterness in his throat. To smile like that was something Damian was unable to do. Even if he felt that he should, his mouth just never got the message. He was glad that he had met Jon who despite that always seemed to know when Damian was the happiest.
With one last tug, to tie the bandage together, Drake finished. Quickly Damian returned from his trail of thoughts. ''Are you finally done, Drake ?'' He tried to taunt– but there was no heat behind his words. It was obvious that Drake had also caught the lack of malice as their eyes met and the teen looked at him with a hint of surprise. The eye contact lasted for a bit to long. Quickly Damian averted his eyes with a mumbled, ''thank you...''
Drake knew to not say anything, he just nodded and gave Damian a slight smile. ''Do you want me to drive you to the zeta tube ?'' He asked instead.
Damian let the offer run through his mind for a moment before he answered, ''I think I'd rather stay here,'' he surprised himself with his answer. Quickly he added, ''To make sure you're not failing your part of our mission. Obviously.'' He felt how he automatically suppressed rubbing his arm nervously.
''Obviously,'' Drake gave him a knowing look but didn't press the matter. “It’s late, best that you go and sleep. I’ll do one last sweep of the city.”
He was hesitant as he spoke, much softer than he wanted to, “you don’t have to, I just did one. Remember ?” He raised his arm slightly, bandage sticking out against the colors of his skin.
“Yeah I know, but still.” Drake gave him an annoying grin before suddenly tugging a t-shirt over Damian's head. He was not proud about the tiny squawk that escaped him. The t-shirt was two sizes too big, black with his eldest brother’s blue insignia printed on the front. A smell reached his nose, gunpowder and cigarettes permeated through the smell of laundry detergent. “This shirt belongs to Todd, it stinks,” he stated with a grimace.
“I can grab you a different one,” Drake offered, he had already moved over to where Damian guessed he had stashed his suit.
“It’s fine,” he surprised himself again with his words. His gaze averted from Drake, yet he still heard the soft chuckle. Feeling a wave of embarrassment, Damian decided to quickly change the topic, ''where may I lay down to rest Drake ? This couch is not adequate for someone such as myself.'' It was a very old couch and he had sustained a few bruises he had decided to not inform Drake about.
Drake rolled his eyes, but he didn't seem annoyed at the demand. ''Upstairs and down the hall, last door on the left. It's the master bedroom, you can sleep there. I'll just take the couch if I sleep after patrolling.''
*'If* ' Damian thought to himself. He quickly mumbled a ''night Timothy'' under his breath before he made his way upstairs, stopping only for a second to watch his brother effortlessly climb out of the window.
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Fawcett was much calmer at night compared to Gotham, then again pretty much every city was. With quick steps Red Robin made his way over the roof tops, one ear open for any signs of crime, the other filled with the comm line to Oracle. Barbara was giving Tim a run down of what was going on in Gotham at the moment. Nothing out of the ordinary, just the usual array of small misdemeanours to a few felonies. Jason was having a field day with some wannabe up and coming crime lords that had moved all the way from Tacoma, Washington to Gotham to make a name for themselves. Apparently foregoing any and all types of information gathering about the city. Tim was trying his hardest not to laugh about the whole thing as he swung from one building to the next. He really wished he was there to witness the whole thing. Barbara had promised to send him pictures of their various expressions as they realized how fucked they were.
Tim had already spend about an hour patrolling when he came across a shady group of people in an alley next to a bar. Silently he landed on the fire escape above them. Crouched, he listened in on their conversation. Something was up with these guys, his intuition told him as much. Luckily they didn't seem to care who overheard them as Tim could easily understand them.
''Ya know my cousin is a coward. He kept goin' on an' on about how he got his ass handed to him by that Robin brat but he was nothing compared to Superman.'' The man laughed, full of himself. It didn't take a master detective to figure out who these guys were– *what* they had done. Tim tired to regulate his breathing. In- out- calm- collected. Then another guy joined the bragging and a third pulled out a knife. As the blade glinted red in the low light. Tim's body moved. Near silently he landed at the mouth of the alley. Moving through the shadow, approaching the group of men. They kept bragging and talking loudly, easily covering up any sound, if a Tim had made a sound. ''That's a nice blade,'' he then half whispered into the ear of the man that was holding it. Said man quickly dropped the mentioned knife in shock. He whirled around, eager to find out where the voice had come from but he would have to wait till he woke up again to find out. Before the guy could even turn around halfway, Tim had already planted his staff deep into the men's liver. Instant Knockout. The guy hit the ground hard. Bruce would've send Tim a disapproving look, at least normally. But these guys had stabbed Robin. They had to pay five fold at least. Bruce would agree, even if he wouldn't admit it with words. Actions spoke louder anyway.
''What the-'' One of the others barely got out before he too dropped instantly from a hit to the chin. The rest of them went down just as quick. Tim ducked under a desperate punch and returned the favor with a boot to the kidney. He swiftly used his staff to block a hit aimed at his back. Then as he turned around, bo-staff whirling around his wrist he planted it between the guys eyes. ''Sneak attacks are a cowards favourite move, I expected more from you,'' Tim quipped but there was no humour in his voice.
''What did we even do to you ?! Costumed freak !'' One of the last men standing exclaimed as he tried his go at Red Robin. Tim, tapping into his best Batman growl impression grabbed the guy buy his collar and pulled him to be eye level with him. ''You stabbed a little birdy very dear to me. That's more then enough reason to end you. You're lucky you *only* stabbed him,'' Tim growled. Realization set on the man's face. It was clear that he realized that they had fucked up, majorly.
After that the fight was over with just a few swings of Tim's bo-staff. He stood there for a moment, surrounded by six unconscious bodies. His body relaxing from a tension he didn't realize he had held. He couldn't really believe that these guys had managed to hurt Damian. It must've been a real lucky shot. Then suddenly his body tensed again as a door inside of the alley opened and a head came poking out of it. They looked at each other for a long breath. Carefully the new person opened the door wider with their foot, hands raised in a placative manner, clearly not wanting to fight. Tim easily fell into a seemingly relaxed stance. The woman, a server from the bar Tim assumed by her uniform, looked around the alley. Scanning each of the limp bodies. ''They're not- dead are they ?'' She then asked hesitantly.
''Nah, I got rules I have to follow,'' Tim answered nonchalantly, leaning on his staff now to emphasize his tone. He catalogued the way the server moved as she walked over to one of the guys, a tall brunet with an overall rugged look. She squatted down next to his head and carefully felt for a pulse. On one hand Tim felt offended that she hadn't believed him on the other he was impressed with her distrust. It seemed like she found what she had looked for as she nodded and got back up. ''Not gonna check the others ?'' Tim tested.
''The others aren't my bosses nephews.'' She shook her head with clear exhaustion. ''He'd kill me if that guy died next to the bar on my first night as manager.''
''Glad I held back then.'' Tim let a small smile grace his lips.
''You're not from Fawcett,'' she stated. The underlying question of 'what are you doing here' wasn't lost on Tim.
''You got that right. These guys are lucky we're not in Gotham. All the smog and chemicals in the air make it easy to forget codes and rules.'' A dangerous grin settled on Tim's face, a threat and a promise.
''I believe it. Went there for Uni and that was enough. Never got to see one of the Bats while I was there. Kinda funny I'm meeting one now. Are you- '' She squinted as she gave it her best guess, ''Robin ?''
Tim's face relaxed into a friendlier expression. ''Red Robin, Robin has more colors.'' He looked at his costume before he added, ''Robin has green too, think traffic light. And a sword.''
''A sword ? Didn't he use a staff ? Kinda like yours.'' She pointed at Tim's, still extended, bo-staff.
''Oh he did but that was a while ago. Now Robin has a sword.'' Tim retracted the bo-staff and holstered it again. His posture relaxed for real now. This bar manager seemed to really be just a normal citizen. Sure now that all threats were eliminated Tim decided it was time to move on in his patrol. He raised his hand as if to check his watch for the time. He then pointed at his empty wrist, ''It's time for me to keep going. Can I leave the clean up to you ?''
''Sure, I just need to call the cops, no ? Or is it different in Gotham, do I call the bat clean-up crew ?'' She asked jokingly.
A small chuckle escaped Tim before he gave the manager a playful two-finger-salute and pulled out his grappling gun. She glanced away and he was gone. From the fire escape he had started out on he watched as the manager looked down at the nephew of her boss. After a short moment she kicked him in the stomach, ''Stupid Jackass.'' She then pulled out her phone and seemed to call the police. As Tim left he heard her tell the operator, ''My idiot *ex* boyfriend and his friends started a fight with a customer and lost, badly. They're uncon-'' That was all he heard. So not just her boss's nephew huh ?
The rest of the night was calm. Red Robin stopped a few more petty crimes, made a pit stop at a big belly burger for a second dinner and then settled down on a roof top to eat. He tapped his comm as he unwrapped his burger, ''Good evening Belfry ! Anything interesting happening on your end ?''
''Hey there Red! Nothing really interesting, just the usual. It's pretty calm without you here,'' Barbara joked.
''What's that supposed to mean ?'' Tim asked even though he knew what she meant.
''I could send you the list of incidents you instigated and or participated in from the last month. It's a big file though.'' Barbara's smile was audible through her voice.
''No thank you, my laptop is already full enough with stuff I need to do for WE. So much stuff. I think they want to work me to death. When was the last time we did a big background check on the WE employees ? I think an assassin might've slipped in.'' Tim joked. With a bemused smile on his lips, he took a bite of his burger. It was no Batburger but it did satisfy his need for calories. He chatted for a while longer with Barbara, then with some of his other siblings until he had finished eating. He gathered his trash and after throwing it away he made his way back to the apartment.
Swiftly moving over unfamiliar rooftops, always vigilant. But the quietness of the night was fuel to the fire of overthinking. So he did what he always did when his thoughts tried to swallow him:
He called Kon.
The phone rung once before the familiar and calming voice flowed through the speaker. He missed him. But they were both stuck on their respective missions for a while longer. Although Tim had to move up the schedule for operation M.B.A.B.S.. It seemed Billy had either already figured out who Tim was or he was at the cusp of finding out. Now that Damian was at the apartment as well, the planning he had done was pretty much worthless anyway. He brainstormed with Kon what to do next. In his mind, Tim had already given up on slowly introducing Billy, Freddy and Marry to the whole of the Batfamily until the big family dinner on Sunday. Yet just dropping the bomb of a bus worth of family members on the three kids seemed very wrong as well. It was so much information that even Tim sometimes felt lost. Especially now that more and more of his siblings, and other relatives were finding partners and kids of their own. At this point their family growing was more a law of nature. Like a colony of Bats can be made up of 20 to 2000 animals, depending on the species. A colony of Bats and Birds and everything in between, alien or from parallel universes, raised from the dead and redeemed- there were all kinds of flavors of backstories. The only thing that mattered was that they were there for one another. Their colony getting along was the best for human- and alienkind, really, at least Kon always said so. Tim tended to agree.