Chapter Text
Damian had been told two things about his father. The first being that he was a great warrior who worked from the shadows. The second was that he was a powerful figure in Gotham.
When he asked his mother for his father's name before boarding the plane, she replied. "If you are worthy of being his son, then you won't need a name to find him."
Now, Damian was strolling through Bristol, looking for the powerful warrior who sired him. He had initially considered going to the Diamond District, before being informed that only moderately powerful people reside there.
Damian sneered at the fact he had almost set foot in such a place. Moderate, how plebeian.
He had researched and listed the names of the families residing in Bristol. He had immediately crossed off names like Johnson and Flynn, much too common for someone of Damian’s calibre.
He hesitated over Wayne, he had heard that name spoken more than most of the others. But it was so basic, common and ordinary that Damian had no choice but to cross it off.
Wayne, such a droll and dull name for a supposedly powerful family. Damian was glad he wouldn't have to take it as part of his title.
Damian Al Ghul, Ibn al Xu'ffasch, Heir to The Demons Head, Wayne–
Damian shuddered.
There was one name that he was certain was worthy of him. A name cutting and powerful, the word for the most powerful creatures in both mythology and languages of old. A name befitting of a warrior.
Drake.
Damian stood at the door, staring up at the gold lettering.
He steeled himself and raised his hand to knock.
-
There was someone knocking at the door.
Usually, Jack would yell for Tim to answer it, but as he was packing some last minute items for Jack's trip to Rome with Dana, Jack decided to get it himself.
He opened the door only to see a tiny kid with piercing green eyes, brown skin and an unusually serious look on his face for someone with so much baby fat.
"Yes?" He asked politely.
The kid stared at him intently. "I am Damian Al Ghul Drake, your son and heir to the Drake empire." He stated.
Jack had always known this day would come. With his and Janet's open marriage, it was inevitable. He'd just hoped he wouldn't have to deal with it when he was getting ready to go to Rome with his new wife.
With a sigh, he decided to hear the kid out. "What age are you?" He questioned.
"I am ten years old." Damian answered.
"Where have you been living until now?"
"Nanda Parbat, but I have spent much of my childhood travelling alongside my mother."
Jack hummed, thinking back. He and Janet did spend some time travelling around that area about a decade ago and they had both spent time with other people throughout their marriage so it wasn't impossible.
He glanced down at Damian. The boy did have Jack's hair colour and his chin, if he squinted. He must have favoured his mother in the looks department.
Jack figured he couldn’t disprove it and it wasn't worth the legal battle to try and do so, especially before his trip. So he gave a mental shrug and opened the door wider to let the kid in. "Tim, come meet your brother!"
-
Tim walked downstairs with Jack's suitcase in hand, almost ninety percent sure that he'd misheard him. Unless he or Janet had had a secret child at some point there was no way–
There was a kid standing in the parlour.
"Dad?" Tim questioned, putting the case down, lest he drop it out of shock.
"Tim, this is Damian, your little brother." Jack said, clapping Damian's shoulder. The kid looked as shocked as Tim felt, they both stared at one another like two cats that had been thrown in an unfamiliar room together. "He's ten. Keep an eye on him while I'm gone."
"You're leaving?" Damian questioned, his eyes widening slightly. Tim’s heart clenched in sympathy for the kid, remembering the days when he used to ask that question.
Jack didn't even seem to notice Damian had spoken. He patted the kid absently, not noticing Damian's – very cute– scowl. "Is my case packed?" He asked.
"Yeah." Tim said, still in shock.
"Thanks kiddo!" Jack ruffled Tim's hair, he moved to pick up his case and started heading for the door. "You be good for your big brother while I'm gone." He called back.
"Yes, Father." Damian replied just as the door slammed shut.
They stood in silence for a minute before Tim got over his initial shock and smiled. "So you're my brother?"
"I suppose so." Damian said, eyeing Tim cautiously.
Tim's smile turned into a grin, elation running through him. He'd always wanted a little brother.
-
Damian had been skeptical about having an older brother to say the least, but Tim had proven himself to be a good mentor and caretaker so far.
He had introduced Damian to cocoa puffs and pop tarts which made for a worthy meal.
He gave Damian a tour of their home, not seeming to mind when Damian asked him a question. In fact, he encouraged it.
Not to mention, Damian had discovered a bo staff under Tim's bed while they were watching a movie about The World's Greatest Detective, Sherlock Holmes.
"You're a warrior." Damian stated, holding the staff in his hands.
"No–" Tim started.
Damian slowly dragged a multicoloured tunic out from under Tim's bed. "A strange warrior." He noted, squinting at the R on the right side. "I'm a warrior too."
"I noticed." Tim gestured to the katana strapped to Damian's back. "An adorable warrior." Tim grinned down at him.
Damian huffed but didn't bother scowling. In their short time together he had learned the hard way that scowling earned him hair ruffles. He endeavoured to glare instead.
He received a forehead kiss for that. Damian decided that he would glare at least three times a day. For tactical reasons, of course.
-
Tim had taken Damian out to explore and get art supplies. Mostly because Damian had accidentally read a book on sketching from cover to cover while tracing the pictures with his fingertips.
"This is not necessary." Damian protested as they neared the store.
"It's something that you like which makes it very necessary." Tim replied.
Damian huffed. "That's not–"
"And having a unique talent is very important in our family." He added. At Damian's suspicious look he continued. "Janet's was history, Jack's is archaeology and mine is photography."
"And my talent could be…art?" Damian peeked up at Tim to ensure that his brother hadn't changed his mind.
Tim smiled. "Exactly."
"I see." He mused, looking through the window at the endless colours, sketchbooks and pencils.
They went into the store. Anything that Damian looked at for more than a minute was put in the basket.
They had to get a taxi home that day.
The next day, Damian had Tim lead them to the camera store, where he retaliated in kind.
-
Damian smiled as the kitten headbutted his hand, then scowled at himself for smiling.
Tim was sitting next to him, filling out forms one of the volunteers handed him.
"I find it strange that we need to fill out so much paperwork just to visit the animals." Damian commented. Most people were more fickle than Damian and Tim, the poor creatures must not get many visitors.
Tim laughed. "No, you don't have to do this for a visit. This is for adopting them." Tim gestured to the kitten batting at Damian's hand.
His breath caught. "I can have her?" He asked.
"Yeah. I know you'll look after her well." Tim said easily.
"But what about Father?" Damian said, already drawing up plans to run away with Tim and the kitten if Jack's reaction wasn't ideal.
"He won't notice." Tim said. "If he does, just pretend you don't see them."
Damian hummed in agreement. Sadly, Jack Drake hadn't struck him as the most observant person, at least not in his public persona. It was good that both he and Tim inherited their mother's intellect.
"Then, could I…" Damian trailed off, looking over at the black puppy staring at him with big, pleading eyes.
"You want the dog too." Tim was looking at him with that gaze his mother held whenever Damian bested someone in battle. Tim's face was warmer, somehow. He called the volunteer over, requesting more forms.
-
"Have you chosen any names yet?" Tim asked a few hours after they had arrived home, with the animals in tow.
"The cat shall be known as Sherlock and the dog, Titus." Damian spoke the names with the reverence they deserved.
"Perfect names for perfect creatures." Tim praised.
Damian turned his head away to hide another infernal smile, they had been occurring quite often lately.
Seeing this, Tim prodded at Damian's ribs until he was laughing like some sort of heathen.
Having a brother wasn't nearly as awful as Mother claimed it would be.
-
"There are a few people I'd like you to meet, if you're up for it." Tim said.
Damian looked up from his sketchbook. "Who?"
"Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson."
"Wayne." Damian spat the name like poison. "Why are we wasting our time on the riff raff?"
Tim laughed, only Damian would refer to the most powerful man in Gotham as 'riff raff.'
"They're family. Dick's like a brother to me." He answered. Tim had been wanting to introduce Damian to them from the moment he arrived, but he wanted him to feel settled and secure before doing so.
Damian's eyes flashed dangerously. "I see." He said. Tim had a feeling that he had made a big mistake. "You want us to battle for the honour of your regard."
Tim jolted. "What? Dami, no–"
Tim knew of and accepted Damian's slightly homicidal tendencies, but he'd rather not have them turned towards his second family.
Damian unsheathed his katana. "I will be sure to dispatch of him right away–"
"You don't have to kill him," Tim said, gently coaxing Damian into putting the katana away. "I love you all equally."
"There is no such thing as equal love. You love me more." Damian stated, glaring.
Tim pulled Damian into his arms and kissed the crown of his head.
-
"Wait, start over, how exactly do you have a little brother that no one knew about until now?" Dick questioned.
Dick had been thrilled to see Tim at the manor again, as his presence had been scarce outside of patrol for the last few weeks.
Now he knew why.
Bruce had gone silent from the moment Tim started talking about his little brother. From the calculating gleam in his eyes, he was probably drawing up plans to steal two Drake children instead of one.
"Jack and Janet had an open marriage." Tim said, shrugging. Dick, on the other hand, was shocked by all of this new information. "I'm honestly surprised this is the first bio sibling that's turned up on our doorstep." Tim looked over at the open door. "Speaking of which, Dami?"
A boy around the age of ten strutted into the room with his shoulders back and his head held high.
Dick’s eyes widened. The kid was almost the spitting image of Bruce.
Tim grinned, looking happier than Dick's ever seen him. "Bruce, Dick, this is my little brother, Damian Drake."
"Which one do I have to dispatch?" Damian questioned with narrowed eyes.
Dick was about to laugh it off, until he saw the katana strapped to the kid's back.
"We've talked about this, you're my number one, you don't have to dispatch anyone." Tim said softly, tapping Damian's nose.
Dick had only known Damian for thirty seconds and even he knew that anyone else would lose a finger for trying that.
Dick's brow furrowed. "Wait, has he killed people? He looks like he's killed people." He muttered the last part. Not quietly enough, if the scowl Damian shot him was an indication.
Tim made a so-so gesture. "I mean, what is murder really–"
"Execution is the more accurate term." Damian stated. "It is what I'll be doing to you soon enough." He said looking between Bruce and Dick, a bloodthirsty glint in his eyes.
It kind of made him look like Talia–
Oh.
Bruce, who had yet to say a word since Tim had announced that he had a little brother, lost all colour in his face.
"Dami," Tim chided. Dick nodded approvingly despite his shock. It was good that Tim was setting boundaries– "I thought it was a battle to the death?" He questioned.
Dick sighed, he shouldn't have expected anything else from Tim.
Damian glanced at Bruce and Dick before scoffing. "Spare me, these dimwits couldn’t fight off a child, never mind me."
Dick blinked. "But you are a–"
Tim shot off a glare while making a cut off motion with his hand.
"Tim, may I speak with you in private?" Bruce cut in. Finally.
"Are you good if I go for a few minutes?" Tim asked Damian. Dick smiled, Tim was shaping up to be a good big brother.
"The world shall keep spinning, believe it or not." Damian huffed.
Dick scowled, if only Tim had gotten a nice baby brother instead of the little demon in front of them.
Tim smiled indulgently and kissed Damian on the forehead.
Dick never got forehead kisses.
Sure, Tim would have to go on his tiptoes to reach, but still. The effort would be appreciated.
Dick stared mournfully as Tim followed Bruce out the room.
"He does not love you." Damian said, smugness radiating off him in waves.
Yeah, Dick hates this kid. Maybe they can send him back?
As if sensing his thoughts, the kid glared.
Dick glared back.
-
"He's perfect, isn't he?" Tim sighed happily as they walked into the office.
At any other time, Bruce would be overjoyed to see Tim so happy. But the death threats and suspicious resemblance to Talia, had Bruce a little concerned.
"The executions–" Bruce started.
"He's ten, B." Tim waved him off.
Yes, because all ten year olds go through an executioner phase.
Bruce gave Tim a flat stare. "He has a katana."
Tim rolled his eyes. "It's Gotham, everyone should have a katana."
Bruce sighed, obviously Tim's judgement was clouded. "He looks like me."
Tim huffed, crossing his arms. "Ugh, you're so vain. Not everything is about you." He scowled.
"Tim." Bruce growled.
Tim's eyes lit up with an unholy glee. "You're jealous." He crowed.
"What?" Bruce asked, feeling tired already.
"Because I got a kid before you!"
Bruce sputtered. "I–"
"Well you can't have him." Tim hissed. "Damian is my baby wing. Mine." Bruce was starting to worry about Tim's unhinged state. "And I don't want to fight you, but I will."
"You'll lose." Bruce said, matter of fact.
Tim's eyes frosted over. "I was trained by Lady Shiva, Bruce. I'm non-lethal by choice. Do not test me."
Bruce raised his hands placatingly. "I don't even want the kid–"
"Oh, so Damian's suddenly not good enough for you?" Tim puffed up indignantly.
"I didn't say that." Bruce sighed.
"Just because you can't take rejection with grace." Tim spat, staring at him with disgust. How did this escalate so quickly? "Screw this. We're moving out!" He yelled, storming out of the office.
"You don't even live here." Bruce muttered, following him at a more sedate pace.
Bruce entered the living room to see Tim guiding Damian out, throwing a scowl over his shoulder as they left.
"Bruce, what did you do?" Dick's voice was despairing. Bruce tried not to be too insulted over Dick's immediate assumption that he had done something wrong.
Before he could answer, Tim popped back in.
He gave Dick a hug and a kiss on the cheek, saying a quick. "Love you." Before darting back out of the room. All the stress melted away from Dick's face, leaving a grin in its wake.
"Love you too!" He called after him, brimming with happiness. Then he looked back at Bruce and scowled. "He does love me." Dick glared, before storming out of the room.
"I never said he didn't." Bruce said, baffled.
-
Ever since Damian had found out that Tim was Robin, he had been determined to join him on patrol.
This hadn't been too much of an issue until recently when Damian had started sneaking out to try and patrol on his own.
Each time, Tim had managed to catch him before Damian made it past the Diamond District.
Until now.
Tim found Damian in an alleyway near the Bowery, dressed in black with his katana at the ready.
"Timo– Robin." Damian greeted with a nod. He gestured grandly behind him. "I'm prepared to serve and protect Gotham as required." He said, staring up at Tim with bright, earnest eyes.
Tim sighed. Why did he have to be so damn cute? He couldn’t even yell at him for the mess Tim was going to have to clean up because of this.
Tim looked down at the decapitated head near Damian's feet. "Right," He said, leaning on his staff. "We can work with this."
Damian preened.
-
Jason had been having a relatively relaxing patrol. The Alley was quiet, there were no rogues out and Batman had been steering clear. All in all, Jason was quite content.
Which was why the universe had to throw a Tim shaped curveball at him, because God forbid Jason have a nice night.
"Hood." Tim landed in front of Jason, there was a kid clinging to his back. Said kid gracefully jumped off and landed beside him.
"Robin Three," Jason greeted. His eyes widened as he got a closer look at the kid. "Did the old man shrink?"
The kid's face flushed with rage. "How dare you compare me to that bumbling imbecile!" He seethed. "I am a Drake, of the highest calibre."
"Yes, you are." Tim smiled adoringly at the little brat.
Jason's brow furrowed. "Are you fucking with me right now, grave robber?" He asked, with Tim he could never be sure.
"You weren't buried with the costume." Tim corrected absently, too busy smoothing down the angry munchkins hair to even look at Jason. "I robbed your memorial display." He added. The kids' eyes lit up in awe at that.
"I'm so close to knocking your damn teeth out, Tim." Jason gritted out.
The brat glared. "I'll kill you." He hissed. "Your head would be of better use mounted over a fireplace."
Jason blinked, he had gotten a lot of threats both from the adults and kids of Crime Alley. But he had never had a toddler look up at him and threaten to mount his head on the wall like a goddamn deer.
"You're so eloquent, Damian." Tim remarked fondly. He finally deigned to look over at Jason, something about the domino made his stare more eerie. "You like eloquent people right, Jay?" He asked. "You know, because of books and stuff?"
Damian looked as pained as Jason, but stood supportively by Tim's side all the same.
"Sure." Jason said, sensing a trap.
"And you both like murder, dislike Bruce and have a thing for executions– he cut off twelve heads in a night." Tim said to Damian, as if Jason had done something impressive. "Then he put them in a bag and threw them at the feet of his enemies."
Should Jason be letting Tim tell this to a child?
Well, Damian did seem mildly intrigued, looking over at Jason appraisingly.
Wait.
"Are you trying to set up a playdate between us?" Jason said slowly, not fully believing the words coming out of his mouth.
Tim froze. "Maybe?"
"Oh for fuck's sake." Jason covered his face and yelled into his hands. Why did he let these goddamn people back into his life? And his second one at that.
Damian's eyes widened in horror. "Timothy, for whatever I did to slight you, I apologize." He said urgently. "Do not make me endure this ridiculously styled man." He wrinkled his nose at Jason's leather jacket and Jason had to talk himself out of beating the snot out of the little brat. "He even has multi-colored hair."
Jason growled. "Oh fuck off you demonic–" Tim smacked a hand over Jason's mouth, shooting a glare at him that said do not.
"This wasn't meant to be a punishment, I'd never do that to you." Tim reassured, squeezing Damian’s shoulder. "I just thought you might want a murder buddy."
"He doesn't seem like a particularly talented killer." Damian remarked.
"Actually, he tried to murder me once. He almost succeeded too." Tim spoke as if he was pitching a product rather than bringing up a horrific experience. Jason grimaced, maybe he should get his successor a therapist. Tim might let Jason out of his 'reparations debt' quicker if he did.
Damian's eyes blazed, he lunged forward with a roar and punched Jason in the gut.
Jason gasped, leaning over to clutch at his stomach. Did the kid have knuckle dusters or something?
Tim continued on, unperturbed. "But we're good now. Right, Jay?" He smiled at Jason, paying no mind to his wheezing.
"I hate you." Jason groaned.
"Die again." Damian spat.
Yeah, Bruce had some explaining to do. Once Jason could breathe again.
-
Bruce had managed to convince Tim to let him take some hair and a cheek swab from Damian to run a DNA test in the Cave.
Tim had elected to stay while Bruce ran his tests to ensure that he 'didn’t tamper with the evidence.' Something Bruce had to bite back a strongly worded response to.
The results came in, confirming Bruce's suspicions.
"He's my biological son." Bruce said solemnly.
They both sat in silence for a few moments.
Tim began typing something on the computer. "Too bad, I got him first, legally he's mine." He said just as the results disappeared from the screen.
Bruce's eyes widened. "You can't just keep him."
"What are you going to do about it?" Tim challenged.
Before Bruce could even try to formulate a reply to that, a voice piped up from behind them.
"I wish to remain with Timothy." Damian said, looming above them from halfway up the staircase. He wrinkled his nose at Bruce. "Your public persona is an embarrassment to my bloodline, Drake is a more suitable name due to what it symbolises and Timothy has promised to name me as his heir to our empire–"
"Already have, I'll show you the paperwork later." Tim said.
Damian pointed. "See? He is also more efficient than you and less held back by petty things such as morals."
Maybe Bruce should let Tim keep him, God knows he already has his hands full with Jason. Not to mention, if Bruce did take Damian there was a high chance that would push Tim into becoming the supervillain he was destined to be.
"What's morality in the face of family?" Tim shrugged.
Damian looked at Bruce. "When the time comes I will fight you for the mantle of Batman for the sake of continuing your legacy." He spoke as if Bruce should be grateful for his generosity.
"You can have Robin if you want." Tim offered.
"Tim, no!" Dick screeched from the top of the staircase. Bruce couldn’t have said it better himself.
"We can both be Robin." Damian suggested, looking over at Tim hopefully.
Tim's eyes lit up. "Yes, imagine how many people we could scare."
Bruce glared at them. "You two will not–"
They did.
-
Three months later, everyone had settled into the new status quo. Only three of them did so by choice. Tim, Damian and Alfred to be specific.
The rest of them suffered in relative silence.
On the bright side, he was now getting weekly calls from Jason, mostly consisting of complaints about his younger brothers, but Bruce enjoyed listening all the same.
Unfortunately, this wasn't one of Jason’s calls.
"Beloved." Talia greeted when Bruce picked up. Despite everything, his chest warmed at the sound of her voice.
"Talia." He replied. He could practically feel the way Dick's head snapped over to look at him.
"Has our son arrived yet?" She asked.
"Our son?" He questioned, wanting to make sure that she hadn't sent over another one.
Talia sighed. "Damian."
Bruce slowly looked over at the two boys whispering to each other from across the room. Likely making plans for world domination, as is the Drake way, according to Damian.
"About that," Bruce said, gesturing for Dick to come over. "Maybe you shouldn't just send a ten year old to Gotham and hope for the best."
Talia hummed lightly. "Do you not like him? He is a lot like you."
"I wouldn't have found the wrong family." Bruce grumbled.
Dick made grabby hands for the phone. He had an unhinged look to him that Bruce hadn't seen since he went hunting for Zucco all those years ago.
"What do you mean?" Talia's voice took on a sharp edge.
Bruce smiled wryly. "He's a Drake now. Tim refuses to give him back and Damian has decided he likes Tim better."
"What? Beloved–"
Bruce passed the phone to Dick. "Have fun."
He was barely out of the room before the yelling started.