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Tales of Conquest, Warnings of Fools:

Letters Between Brothers

I found Bruce, we’re on our way back now. ETA 2 days. Have the med-bay prepped.

***

Damian rushed to the Batcave as soon as the alert came through on his phone, he found Grayson doing the same. Everyone had likely gotten the message, but they were the only two close enough to actually get to the Cave and read what was sent. When they arrived, however, they both froze. In big, bold letters on the largest screen was the confirmation that he had been waiting a year for. Drake had found Father, and is bringing him home.

He felt an overwhelming something overcome him. Father’s alive. Father’s okay. Father’s coming back. Drake is bringing Father back.

“Damian!” Grayson shook his shoulders, “Are you okay?”

It took a few more seconds, but Damian nodded his head, “Yes, Richard, I’m fine.”

Richard froze for a second. “What did you..call me?”

“‘Richard’?” Damian raised his eyebrow. “That is your name, isn’t it?” When Richard didn’t answer, standing there with a dumbfounded look on his face, Damian went to the elevator, “I will inform Alfred of Drake’s status report. You should tell the others.” The doors closed behind him, cutting off his view of the Cave, and he found himself able to breathe again.

Father’s coming home.

He was quick to leave the office, making sure the grandfather clock closed behind him. Finding Alfred was easy, telling him about the message Drake just sent was not. He stood dumbly in the kitchen doorway, half in the dining room and half in the kitchen.

“Is there something I can help you with, young master Damian?”

Damian’s mouth felt dry and his eyes felt wet. “Um,” A stutter? Really?

“Young master Damian?” Alfred approached him, “Is everything alright?”

He swallowed. “Yes, Alfred, everything’s fine.”

“Good,” the panic Damian hadn’t noticed left the old man’s face, but there was still an expression of uncertainty. “Drake sent an emergency message: He’s found Father. They’ll be returning in two days. He requested that the medical bay be prepared, but he did not specify.”

Alfred lost some of the composure he so dutifully held. His shoulders slumped and relief fell off of his frame like a weight. He suddenly seemed much older than he ever acted. Between three blinks, he was back to his perfect butler self. “I will have everything ready for your brother’s and father’s return.” he nodded.

Damian nodded back and turned to leave the room. He was numb all the way to his bedroom, only stopping to pet Alfred the cat, but only for a few seconds.

He closed the door behind himself, locking it, before sliding down it to sit on the floor. Father was coming home. He knew that he couldn’t be dead! He knew he wouldn’t have stayed dead! He curled his knees to his chest, wrapped his arms around his legs, buried his face in his knees, and cried.

*

They heard the Batplane before they saw it only because the doors opening to let it land let in a rush of wind.

Only Damian, Alfred, and Richard were in the Cave to receive Father and Drake. Todd hadn’t answered Richard or Alfred in nearly nine months, and the only way they knew he was alive was because Red Hood was still ruling Crime Alley. Gordon had been elated to hear of their return, but was currently otherwise occupied. Cain and Brown were still in Hong Kong, but they had promised to be back as soon as they could.

The next people Richard had contacted had been Superman and Wonder Woman. He alerted them that something had come up and that Batman and Robin would not make it to the meeting on the Watchtower the next day. In a very Batman fashion, he didn’t elaborate and hung up on them.

Damian had to wonder, though, through the preparations of getting everything ready for Father’s and Drake’s return, what would Father think about how everything fell apart after he went missing? Things hadn’t been perfect before, but they had held together. Now, they’d all fallen away from each other, despite Richard’s best efforts. Even then, he’d stopped after four months of almost nothing but rejection and static.

The second the drophatch was fully down, Alfred and Richard were on the plane, loading Father onto a gurney so they could wheel him to the med-bay. It was hardly a fight, with Father being as out of it as he was, so it was a quick process. Soon, Alfred, Richard, and Father were in the medical bay, leaving Damian and Drake together.

It was a quiet few moments, the two watching the three older men from across the Cave until they disappeared behind the door. Finally, Damian turned to Drake. “Thank you,” he said, “for bringing him back.”

Drake scoffed. “It’s not like you ever believed me that he was alive.”

“I did,” he ducked his head down, “but I did not help you, nor did I try to convince the others. For that I-” He’s been working on this part, actually, since Drake sent the notice of return. “-I apologize.”

“You,” Drake asked, his tone full of disbelief, “are apologizing to me?”

He nodded. “I recognize that I have been…uncouth towards you, and I would like to rectify our relationship going forward.” He inwardly scolded himself for sounding so stilted and awkward. Speaking to people had always been Danyal’s area of expertise. “I understand, however, if you would prefer to not have anything to do with me. In which case, I will do my best to stay away.”

Drake was quiet for a few minutes, not moving or speaking. Soon, though, Damian figured his older…brother wanted nothing to do with him, so he started to walk away. He didn’t let his disappointment show, though. He had no business feeling that way. It was his own fault after all, his own actions that pushed Drake away. He pushed everyone away, actually.

“Wait-!” Drake called. Damian turned slightly to face him. “I, uh, do you mean it?”

“Do I mean what, Drake?”

“Wanting to be…friendlier? You really mean it?”

Turning back fully. “Yes,” he didn’t meet his eyes, “When I was with Mother, she taught me to take what should be mine by force and or of elimination. Grandfather, when I saw him, taught me that my weaknesses should be quashed and that the weaknesses of my enemies should be exploited for all they would give. While you have been searching for Father, the Manor has felt empty, cold. It’s not at all what it was when I first arrived and I cannot help but feel as though a part of that is my own fault for pushing everyone away, even before Father went missing. Todd hasn’t communicated with any of us for nearly nine months, Gordon has been busy with her day job and her father, Cain and Brown have been in Hong Kong with low contact, you’ve been MIA for almost a year-!” He hated how tears welled up in his eyes. “Richard has been trying to keep everything together by being someone he was never meant to be, and the one person I was ever allowed to rely on probably hates me!” He hated the sob that escaped him. He hated that he was breaking down.

Drake sighed quietly. “You really are just a kid, huh.” Slowly, he approached Damian and put his hand on his shoulder. “Is this alright?” After a second, there was a nod. He pulled him into a hug, wrapping one arm around his waist and the other around his shoulders to hold his head to his chest. “What about this?” Another nod.

Damian wrapped his arms around Timothy’s waist, burying his face into the older boy’s chest, staining the material with his tears. He hated that he was showing weakness, but he couldn’t really find it in himself to care at the moment. “I just want the Manor to be warm again.” he whispered.

Timothy pet his hair softly. “I know, kid. I think that can be arranged, but I don’t know how long that will take.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Damian sniffled and pulled away, wiping his tears as soon as Timothy’s hands dropped to his sides. “We will not speak of this.”

Timothy chuckled, “Alright.” His right hand moved to hold his bottom left ribs. “First step to taking care of that promise, though,” he wheezed, “is getting me some medical treatment.”

“You’re an idiot, Timothy.” Damian scolded with no heat behind his words. He carefully slid under Timothy’s left arm, lopping his right around his waist to hold him up. “You better not be hurt enough to be at risk of dying.”

“And break my new promise to you?” Timothy sounded offended, though he was smiling. “Never.”

“I will stab you in the spleen.”

“You’d injure me more, brat.”

“That would be the point, yes.”

“Did our heartfelt moment just now mean nothing to you?”

“Seeing as emotions are not labeled on a linear scale, therefore unable to be counted on a negative scale, yes. It meant nothing.”

“You hurt me, brat.”

“Good.”

Quiet covered the two for a moment. “Y’know, this doesn’t make up for the year’s worth of shit you put me through after you first got here, right?”

Damian nodded. “I know.”

“Good.” Timothy’s words were slurring now.

Damian shifted his grip to carry more of the older boy’s weight. “Rest, Timothy. Alfred will look over you when he is done with Father.”

Timothy shook his head. “No. I gotta- file miss’on ‘port.”

“You cannot even see straight, Timothy-”

“‘m bi.”

“...you cannot see gay right now, either. Sleep. You can file a mission report when Alfred clears you.”

“‘ou’re not gon’ let me go, are ya?” Timothy droned tiredly.

“That would be the correct assumption, yes.”

Timothy huffed. “Fine.” Then, he collapsed.

Had Damian not been ready, he would’ve dropped the older vigilante on the Cave’s floor. As it was, he’d already been holding most of his weight. While it was awkward to carry the taller boy the rest of the way across the Cave and into the med-bay, it was not hard.

He ignored the looks he got from Richard and Alfred as he laid Timothy down on an empty cot in the corner of the room furthest from the door. Without saying anything, he left them to go back to the Manor. He stopped by the Batcomputer, though, to see if any of the others had sent anything. There was one from Todd simply reading ‘The old man didn’t die? Tsk’. He left it on the screen and entered the elevator, taking it up to the Manor.

Father’s office was warmer now that the man was back home. The Manor itself seemed to be that much brighter, as though the building was aware of its master’s return. The constant hum of electricity in the walls seemed to have a cheerful not to it. Even the sky he could spy above Gotham City proper was showing dull blue through the smog!

Alfred the cat joined him as he walked up the stairs to his room. It was nestled in the corner a door down from Timothy’s, four doors down and across the hall from Todd’s, four doors down from Richards, two doors down and across the hall from Cain’s, and one door down and across the hall from Brown’s. The doors themselves seemed less imposing as before, ready to re-welcome whoever stayed behind them.

He hesitated in front of his own door, the slab of hardwood looming over him. Steeling himself took a moment too long, but he finally managed to open the door. “There’s nothing to be scared of; it’s just your room.”

Inside, nothing had been disturbed. The traps on the window and around the room lay ready to be set off, and none had been activated or disarmed. He found his attention drawn to his desk between the two windows, the silver chain around his neck feeling heavier by the second.

Danyal would want to know Father is safe and home.

Damian hasn’t even bothered to read Danyal’s last three letters.

Danyal would want to know that he’s okay.

Damian’s a coward.

*

One week after Father returned home, Richard made the official statement to the press. He told them that the Private Investigators they’d hired had found and brought him home. The kidnappers had all been incarcerated.

Father had yet to wake up.

Timothy had awoken three days later, completely cleared for civilian life and desk work. He wasn’t yet allowed to go out as Red Robin, but he did file his mission report. An entire year’s worth of adventures had only taken eighteen hours to log. Damian suspected things had been left out, but he didn’t mention it.

Todd hadn’t sent anything after his initial message, but he was now reading the messages sent to him by Richard.

Cain and Brown could not yet pull themselves from Hong Kong, but they were in near constant contact with Richard, Alfred, or Tim.

Gordon had managed to rejoin them as Oracle the day after Timothy awoke, jumping at the opportunity to talk to any of them.

Damian found a little part of him that was upset by everyone suddenly rushing back together, but he did not have a valid reason to be upset. Richard and Timothy had reason to be upset, and it was not up to Damian to be upset for them. So, he buried that little voice and went on with his routine.

He and Richard were still going out as Batman and Robin, but that would only last until Father was cleared for duty. Then, Father would retake the Batman Cowl, Damian would remain Robin, and Richard would go back to being Nightwing. Honestly, Damian had no idea how to feel about that. He ignored that voice, too. Instead, he focused on the WAR case he’d taken from Richard.

WAR; We Are Robin. A meta-human opened up the movement with his team, eight months ago. He seemed to have realized that Richard had takenFather’s place under the cowl and had acted accordingly. Or, this had always been a plan for him, but that was unlikely because the kid is fourteen and untrained. He acts during the day, leaving the night to the trained vigilanties, and he has a network that spans all of Gotham, probably already branching out into neighboring cities. As soon as he could, Robin reached out with intents to set up a meeting. The response was swift. Three days after Timothy woke up, Robin left the Batcave in the middle of the day to meet R.

He stood on the roof of Wayne Enterprise with Oracle in his ear, ready to call for backup if he needed it. He wouldn’t. After nearly five minutes of waiting, R landed on the rooftop in front of him, several feet of space between them.

The teen moved with all the grace of a sportsman, untrained in combat, but not wasting a single movement or breath. His suit was yellow and black, the visor of his helmet tinted white, and the Robin R sat proudly in the middle of his chest. The red stood out garishly against the bright yellow

“Robin,” the teen greeted.

“R,” Robin nodded back.

“I’m surprised,” R’s stance was casual, but ready to move at a moment's cue. “Last I heard, Batman was hunting down those of us involved in WAR. Then, he stops and I get a message from you a few months later. What do I owe the pleasure?”

Robin hoped that this child wasn’t nearly this insufferable as a civilian. He sniffed, still new to the whole negotiating aspect of vigilantism. “I wish to invite you to work with us.”

There was a beat. “Excuse me?”

Robin continued. “Batman has a rule of no meta’s in Gotham because the danger the city poses to you could potentially make you a threat to the citizens. You operating within city limits has upset him, naturally, but it has done the city good.”

R stared at him for a few seconds. “Does he know you’re here?”

“No, but he will if I need him to.”

Another few beats. “Alright, I’ll bite.”

Unfamiliar with the phrase, Robin ignored it. “In exchange for wearing the Bat Symbol on your chest, you will be under Batman’s protection, and, by extension, the protection and assistance of everyone who wears the symbol.”

“You don’t wear the bat,”

“It goes without saying that I work for and with Batman. I do not need the symbol when the title is enough.”

“If you say so, kid.”

“I do.”

“What will the big bad Bat think about you going off on your own like this?”

“He trusts my judgment,” Richard does, at least. Sometimes. “He will leave you alone as long as I can vouch for you. I will do so as long as you follow Batman’s rules to the best of your ability.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that as long as you are wearing the bat on your chest, you work for and with Batman and his allies. Courtesies extended to us will be extended to you, and vice versa. Once you are cleared, our identities will be shared between each other and your training will begin.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait. Training? Revealing identities? Isn’t that a bit too far ahead to be thinking right now?”

“Not in the slightest, Thomas,” The older kid noticeably stiffened, his stance ready to flee rather than fight. “I know who you are. Batman will likely find out when I present this proposal to him. It is in your best interest to agree to work with us.”

“That sounds an awful lot like a threat, kid,”

Robin tilted his chin down. “I apologize, that was not my intention.” His nose scrunched up. “I have been working to better my ‘people skills’, as the others called it.”

R snorted, relaxing a bit, “Since you know who I am, do I get to know who you are?”

Robin shook his head. “Telling you my name would reveal the others. I have cleared you myself, but Batman will need to clear you before we tell you who we are.”

“Doesn’t that mean I have to wait to get the bat, then?”

“No. It means that you will have to wait before we can start your training.”

“Alright. So, when do I get the bat? Because, and no offense to you, but this red R totally throws off my whole vibe.”

A smile quirked at the corner of Robin’s lips. “I will have to for you tomorrow. Meet me back here at fifteen-hundred hours.”

“Can do, kid.”

With the clear farewell, Robin jumped off the roof of the building and grabbed a few streets away, feeling like he was flying. Then, once he landed, he used the entrance hidden in the back of the empty parking garage to get down to the cave systems under Gotham. From there, it was an easy hour walk to the Batcave.

*

Once again, Damian finds himself staring at the locked top drawer of his desk. The key was in his hand, the chain dangling from it. It felt heavy, warm to the touch, though that’s probably because he’s been holding it for three hours.

There was a knock on the door, but he didn’t answer. Someone said something on the other side, but he didn’t hear it. The drawer was taunting him; the key was mocking him. He was stuck in a limbo between opening the drawer and facing the music or leaving it be and risking his brother’s wrath.

“Damian?” Richard had come into the room and was now standing in front of him. “Is everything alright, bud?”

Damian set the key on the bed next to him before standing. “Yes, I am fine, Richard. What do you need?”

Richard eyed the key, but didn’t mention it. “B’s awake. I thought you’d like to go talk to him.”

“Very well,” he left his room, waiting for Richard in the hallway, “Let’s go.”

Richard looked very much like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He quietly led the way down to the Batcave, using the fireman's pole in the first floor closet instead of the elevator in Father’s office. Then, he took Damian to the med-bey.

There, sitting propped up on the bed, was Father, brushing off Alfred’s insistence for a check up. He looked up when the door opened, his face softening at the sight of his children. “Dick, Damian.”

“Hey, B,”

“Father,”

Father opened his arms and waited a second. Richard didn’t hesitate, rushing into the man’s hug. “You’re an idiot, Bruce!”

“I know,” Father cooed softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you ever disappear like that again, do you hear me? Never again!” Richard cried, “And you can’t die, either! If you do, I’ll kill you myself.”

Father chuckled, “Alright, alright. I promise.”

Richard pulled away after a few minutes, wiping his sleeve across his face. “Good, good.” He sniffled. “I should let everyone else know you’re awake.”

“How’s Tim?” Father asked.

“He’s fine,” Richard reported, “He woke up a little over a week ago.”

Father’s next question was, “How long was I gone?” followed closely by, “How long have I been back?”

Richard laughed wetly, humorlessly. “You were gone for a year. We told the press that you were kidnapped. Speaking of, I posted an official announcement of your return; you can look at it later. As for how long you’ve been back, well,”

“Timothy recovered you three weeks ago,” Damian cut in, “After two days, you both arrived in the Cave. You were unconscious upon arrival, Timothy passed out shortly thereafter. He woke up after three days and was cleared to go out six days later.”

A dark look crossed over Father’s face. “How’s Gotham?”

“Not totally destroyed,” Richard’s attempt at a joke fell flat. “I’ll, um, I’ll let you two talk.” He was swift to leave the room, leaving Father and Damian alone.

Damian stared at his Father, taking in his appearance and noting down every injury he could see. He seemed haggard, tired despite having only just woken up. He wanted to ask what happened, but he didn’t. “It’s good to see you, Father.”

“Damian,” Father’s arms twitched like he wanted another hug. Damian picked up on it and walked forward, wrapping his arms around his Father. Father embraced him, his grip tightening around him. “Damian, I’m so, so sorry I left you alone. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” he responded, “I do not hold it against you.”

“You should.”

“Will it happen again?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“That I will not blame you.” He hid his face in his Father’s shoulder, “Do not leave us again.”

“I’m sorry,”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry!”

He didn’t say anything, opting to hold his Father close. He had been scared, but so was everyone else, so was Father. Damian couldn’t begin to imagine what Father had gone through. Where had he been? Why had it taken so long to find him? Why didn’t he come back? Why couldn’t he come back? Timothy hadn’t been forthcoming with any answers, but that was okay. Damian could wait until either Father or Timothy shared.

After several long minutes, Father pulled away and Damian sat on the edge of the bed. “So, when were you planning on telling me about your brother?”

Damian stiffened. “What?”

“I got thrown into the Time Stream, I think. A kid who looks strangely like you, if only a little older, helped me when he could. So, either there’s a clone of you with access to Time Travel running around, or you have a sibling you haven’t told me about.”

“I-” he found himself unable to form the words. After a few false starts, he finally managed, “He disappeared when we were children.” Father tensed. “I have only come back into contact with him fairly recently, but that is because he reached out first.” Father relaxed, but Damian didn’t.

“You’re talking to him now?” Damian didn’t answer. “Are you talking to him still?”

He shook his head. “No. Too much has been happening since you went missing; I did not have the time.”

Father frowned. “Tell me what’s been going on, and then we’ll contact him together. How does that sound?”

Damian didn’t know how to feel about that. “That sounds good.”

The door to the med-bay opened and Timothy came in. “Bruce!”

“Tim,” the man smiled smally, “Thanks for finding me.”

Timothy snorted and leaned against the wall. “Someone had to, old man. Besides, those clues you left were way too vague for anyone else to figure out.”

Richard came back in after Timothy, choosing to sit in one of the chairs in the room. He didn’t say anything, but he did have a sad look on his face.

Father met the eyes of all three children. “Tell me exactly what’s happened in the year I’ve been gone.”

Timothy groaned. “Where do we even start?”

“You can start by telling me your cover story,” Father said, “And then you can tell me where everyone else is.”

Richard grimaced, his nose scrunching up as if the idea of explaining anything was appling. It was, actually, but Damian didn’t say anything. “Well, we told the press that you went missing.”

Father waited for him to continue. When he didn’t he prompted, “And the Justice League?”

“They, um, didn’t know?”

There were several long seconds where Father stared on in disbelief. “You didn’t tell the Justice League that I’d gone missing?”

“We did tell them!” Richard objected. “We told them that Bruce Wayne had gone missing-!”

“-and that Nightwing was doing undercover work, and that Red Robin was on a mission overseas.”

“And what about Batman?” Father asked, though it didn’t sound at all like a question.

Richard curled back slightly. “Batman and Robin were the ones to tell them…”

Father sighed long and hard. “Batman went missing, and Robin went after him.”

“Batman went missing, and Red Robin went after him.” Damian corrected, “Nightwing went undercover, Black Bat and Spoiler went to Hong Kong. Batman and Robin watched over Gotham with assistance from WAR.”

Father took a deep breath. “I’m…I’m sorry you had to do that, Dick.”

“It’s- Well, it’s not alright, but I can forgive you. It wasn’t your fault. Besides, Gotham needs Batman.”

“And Batman needs Robin,” Timothy added.

Suddenly, Father turned his gaze back to Damian. “You..?”

Damian nodded. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry, boys,”

“So you keep saying,” Damian stated. “Father, I have been trained since birth to take over your mantle. Being Robin is just another step I must take. Timothy could not have gone after you as Robin without unwanted attention. Richard had no other choice than to become Batman because Gotham needs Batman. He will, however, be going back to Nightwing as soon as you’ve recovered enough to work, and after he’s had a break.”

“Baby bird-”

“You have been ripping apart at the seams, Richard,” Damian scolded, standing up to face him, “If you do not willingly take a break, I will knock you out and have Goliath watch over you.”

There was a moment of silence. “Um,” Timothy asked, “Who’s Goliath?”

“My dragon bat.” Damian answered as though it didn’t sound absolutely insane.

“You’re what?”

*

“You weren’t kidding, were ya, kid?” Thomas whistled.

Damian shook his head minutely. “I do not joke, especially not in uniform.”

Thomas sat on his new bed, taking in every inch of the room. “Yeah, but Wayne? How do you do it? The whole world thinks that there’s no way Bruce Wayne could be Batman, especially not after he went missing. How did you guys pull that off, by the way?”

“Simple,” Damian replied, “Father went missing, so Timothy went to look for him. I became Robin and Richard became Batman. Nightwing went undercover.”

“I-” he paused, “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. But what about the whole Bruce Wayne is Batman thing? How does he do it?”

“A trade secret,” was the answer, “You will learn eventually.”

“Damian! You can’t just leave me in the dark like that!”

Damian was by the door, so he turned the lights off. “Yes I can.” Then, he left. He could hear Thomas laugh for a few seconds before the older boy ran to match his pace.

“I thought you didn’t joke around?”

“I don’t.”

“But you just-”

“And no one will ever believe you.”

“No one will ever believe what?” Richard asked, coming out of his own room as they passed it.

Thomas blinked. “Damian made a joke.”

Richard raised an eyebrow. “Damian made a joke?”

The boy in question clicked his tongue. “Tt. Why would I make a joke, Thomas?”

“But you just-” Thomas spluttered, “-and the lights!”

“Lights?” Damian raised his eyebrow this time, “Lights are your thing, Thomas, in case you’ve forgotten.” He walked on, leaving the two behind him in the all.

“Hey!” Thomas whined, “Not funny, kid!”

He heard Richard laugh behind him, a smirk making its way across his face as he turned the corner. That was too easy. It will continue to be..fun, but only as long as Thomas plays along, willing or not.

Timothy joined him at the top of the staircase. “Did you really joke with Duke?”

Damian shook his head. “No,”

“Liar,” Timothy accused.

“I am not,” he denied.

Timothy shook his head with a sigh, following Damian down the stairs and to the dining room. Richard and Thomas joined them soon after. Father was absent, and so was Alfred. Todd had been leaving Richard on read still, which was better than not even looking at the messages. The girls were all missing, too, but they were otherwise engaged anyway. All that was missing, Damian thought as he looked around the table, was Danyal.

What would his family think about Danyal? Damian wondered. Father knew, but Damian wasn’t quite sure how, though he wasn’t too keen to ask because he didn’t want to answer. A part of him wanted to keep his twin brother a secret. A smaller part told him to tell everyone. The letters in his drawer agreed to being selfish and keeping him a secret. He wasn’t ready to share his brother with his family, even if Danyal had shared him with his.

“It’s good to have you back, B,” Richard said. When had Father arrived?

“It’s good to be back,” Father agreed with a nod, taking his place at the head of the table. The room felt warmer, more full than it had in a long time.

Timothy, who was a chair down from Damian, was typing on his phone, likely wording emails and trying to figure out the press. Now that he was back, that particular responsibility fell from Damian back to Timothy.

That was another thing Damian was slightly upset about, even though he felt he had no right to be. Everyone leaving had dumped all of their responsibilities onto him and Richard. Richard wouldn’t let him take some of the fall, so Damian had had to forcefully take some of the weight from his oldest brother, stressing himself out in the process.

“The press has been dying to get their hands on your story, B,” the seventeen year old stated, “Dick’s official announcement about you coming back has only made them more bloodthirsty.” He looked at Dick for a second before looking back down at his phone. “How did you deal with this?”

“That was my job, actually,” Damian said, “Richard was far too busy and stressed to be able to deal with the media properly, so I took it upon myself to do so.” He got looks from everyone at the table, though pity was the most prominent emotion.

“That explains why they weren’t hounding me as much as I thought they were,” Richardmuttered.

Thomas agreed, “That also explains your socials.”

“You follow my socials?”

“Everyone follows the Wayne socials, especially after Bruce went missing. Everyone wanted an update, and Damian was the only one to provide them via the family’s accounts and his personal ones.”

Timothy blinked, openly staring at Damian. “You don’t have any media training.”

“Not officially, no, but Grandfather praised me for learning in the moment; It prevented mistakes from happening again.”

A beat. “I’m gonna need to see all your posts in the last year from all the accounts you posted from, just to make sure we stick to the story you’ve created.” Timothy put down the phone he was holding and pulled another from his pocket. “Also, what’re the passwords to the family accounts? I’ll need those, too.”

“Good job, Damian,” Father said. Damian preened.

“Masters, if you’re quite through?” Alfred came into the room with the silver tray of mail that had been by the door. All new letters because the old ones had been sorted through and read shortly after Timothy woke up. “I will be back shortly with lunch.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” Father nodded. He took the tray, sorting through the letters and handing them to their recipients. There was none for Damian. He tried not to let that hurt him as much as it did.

Part 5 Part 7