Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Sparrow, Phoenix, there's a disturbance at the corner of Denvors and 6th. Five people dressed in black- I'm unsure if they're armed."

"Got it, Owl," Tim replied, exchanging a look with Jason before leaping off the roof in sync. 

It had been a few months since Jason had recovered, and Dick had failed to charm Jason into matching with him. Jason could never pass up the opportunity to sow chaos, and their recent stint reintroducing Jason to Gotham solidified the perception of the Bats as benevolent Demons. It didn't take much for the citizens of Gotham to reattach themselves to Jason since he barely changed his behaviors before his "Death." Jason established Crime Alley as his territory with help from Bruce and Tim. 

Tim's cloak flared out behind him as he pinpointed the robbery location. The steady thwip-click of their grappling hooks hissed in his ears as Jason's jacket flapped in the wind, the two in near-perfect sync as they wove through the night. 

He landed on a roof, tucking himself into a roll before bouncing back to his feet and continuing to run. Unease brewed in his chest as Tim hissed into the comms, "It's too quiet. Something is wrong."

"What do you mean?" Stephanie asked across the comms. She was patrolling Midtown Gotham with Bruce while Tim and Jason were focused on Downtown. After both groups finish, they’ll merge and sweep through Uptown before heading home. Barbara was on comms with Alfred, helping them monitor the city while Dick was off doing his own thing in Blüdhaven. He’ll join them tomorrow. 

Jason hummed as they perched on top of the closed coffee shop, Tim silently landing beside him. Tim wasn't wrong- it really was too quiet. It was as if Gotham was holding her breath in anticipation, narrowed eyes watching- waiting- with bated for something the mortals could not see.

A few minutes passed, and they noticed something about the robbers was... wrong . Different .

Inhuman.

There were seven of them, and they all moved far too smoothly- not a single step was wasted as they silently wove between each other. Nothing about them was human, and Tim's instincts told him such. 

Jason tapped his comms, "We're engaging."

"Understood. Be careful, Phoenix."

"Will do, O."

On Jason's cue, they dove down in sync. Tim's cloak and Jason’s fire wings flared out as they descended upon the dark-clothed people.  

Tim struck first, lashing out his mist and restraining two to the ground with magic-formed chains. The moment Tim turned his back, he heard the chains snap, and he cursed. 

That was not good. 

"Phoenix, they broke free!" Tim barked, jumping out of one of the non-human's reach. The mist should've blinded them, but that didn't work. Jason's goggles were working overtime to mitigate the blinding effect of Tim's magic. The situation was starting to go south. Their “robbery” was clearly a front for something… But what were they after?

Jason cursed at Tim's words, the sound of metal-against-metal ringing down the alley. These people had swords. 

This was not good. Not good at all.

Usually, the chains combined with the mist would be more than enough to incapacitate regular humans, which meant these robbers weren't human. 

Tim ducked under a swipe of the non-human's sword and stabbed them with a silver-casted Batarang he grabbed from his utility belt. 

As expected, the creature started screaming immediately, the smell of burning flesh filled the air. The illusion was broken, and the scent of blood, venom, and decay flooded Tim's nose. 

From the corner of his eye, Tim saw Jason falter at the Revenant's scream and he hurled a copper ball at another Revenant’s face. It crashed into the creature, erupting into blinding light as Jason rolled away, narrowly avoiding being skewered by a sword. 

"They're Revenants!" Tim shouted, relying on his instincts as the sudden light blinded him.

"Confirmed," Jason gritted out, hissing in pain as a sword grazed his arm. 

Tim really had to focus on his own fights. Jason might’ve had two Revenants on him, but Tim had five, all trying to get his ass. 

This was so unfair . Why were they going after him in particular? Jason should be considered the biggest threat, so why weren’t they going after him?!

"Requiring backup!" Tim yelped, flinching as a thrown knife whizzed past the side of his head, lightly nicking the side of his ear.

" Backup -" Bruce tried to say something but was cut off soon after. Their not-quite-father grunted in surprise, and the sound of metal clanging filtered through the comms. 

Tim cursed again, and he could hear Jason echo the sentiment, "Starling, can you-"

" Sorry !" Stephanie shouted through the comms, "Some uglies just showed themselves -you FUCKER- so we have our hands full!"

"I've contacted Nightwing,” Barbara said, “he’s on his way. Eta five minutes."

"Well," Tim heard Jason wheeze, "a lot of things can happen in five- fuck !"

At his brother’s yelp, Tim was at Jason's side in an instant. Despite their height differences, Tim and Jason still worked wonderfully back-to-back. 

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and Tim couldn't afford to trade anonymity for his brother's life. His ivory claws slid from their illusioned keep, and Tim's fangs elongated beyond a regular human's. He doubts that the Revenants didn’t know who he was, seeing as they bore Ra’s Al Ghul’s insignia, but it was the thought that counts. 

With a low growl, Tim lunged forward and pinned one of the Revenants under his claws. Before Tim could check back on Jason, a sharp pain prickled in Tim's neck, and static slowly dripped down his spine. Fear latched itself onto Tim's throat. He tried to call for assistance, but his tongue and vocal cords refused to respond. Every twitch and movement felt as if he was fighting through molasses. Tim absolutely despised that he and that sensation were so intimate from the few times he’d been drugged and kidnapped by Hunters in his past.

Despite that, Tim still tried to struggle. A cry for help rested on the tip of his tongue as Tim tried desperately to get his limbs to respond even as Tim felt the world shift and his perspective warp. He needed to get back to his brother- he needed to .

"Sparrow!" Jason shouted out as he caught sight of his brother being carried off in a Revenant's arms, "Br- Batman, they have- fuck! SPARROW! "

Jason screamed, lashing out at the surrounding Revenants in a terror-filled fury. The human threw a silver Batarang that flew straight for the Revenant's head. 

The last thing Tim remembered was seeing the utterly devastated look in his brother's eyes before the darkness swallowed him whole. 

And then... Then there was nothing.

Chapter Text

Jason cursed, anger spiking through his veins alongside panic as he watched the Revenant jab a needle into Tim's neck. 

"Sparrow !" Jason screamed, fear unwittingly bleeding into his voice as the "robbers" began to drag his brother away. 

Foreign arms lashed out to hold him still as Jason thrashed, desperately trying to get to his brother before they took him away. 

"Batman," Barbara's voice flickered distantly in his ears, "Phoenix requires backup."

"Understood," was Bruce's pinched reply. 

"Fuck- SPARROW! " Jason grabbed his laced silver knife and lashed out in an indiscriminate haze. He ignored the pained screeching from the Revenants, instead locking eyes with Tim. Jason grabbed a silver-formed batarang and hurled it at the Revenant’s head. 

The knife sank into the creature’s skull and it toppled, sending Tim’s unconscious body soaring through the air. 

Jason met Tim's pale blue irises for a split second before his brother's eyes slipped shut. 

"T- FOX! Fox- Owl! Owl, they- they've got Fox! They- they've got- I-" Jason snarled as he felt a Revenant grab onto his arms. The human, in his rage, whipped around and sank the silver blade deep into their bicep. 

He hissed in pain as a blade swiped against his side in retaliation. He stabbed the pennyroyal-laced knife into another Revenant's flesh. 

Jason tightened his grip on his before rushing forward and hurling the blade toward the creature. He sprinted after the Revenant, dodging the remaining creatures as desperation clawed at his chest. 

The knife sailed through the air, the metal embedding itself into the Revenant's back as Jason's aim held true. 

The Revenant released a blood-curdling scream. The sound left Jason's ears ringing, but he pushed on. Tim saved him from dying at the hands of the Joker and rescued Jason from being beaten to death. 

Jason will return the favor, so he won't allow Tim to die. 

He won't. 

He refuses . 

"Hang in there, Phoenix," Bruce assured through the comms, "I'll be there soon."

As the Dragon promised, the air rippled. A Doorway ripped the air open and Batman and Starling leaped out.

Jason gasped in pain as he felt a dagger pierce through his shoulder, and he screamed in frustration as another Revenant stole away Tim's unconscious body. Before he could make another lunge at the Revenant, Stephanie tackled him out of the way. 

"Let me GO !" Jason screamed, hand twitching around the missing knife's hilt, screaming out in pain as the dagger shifted in his shoulder. 

The werewolf growled, laying her entire weight on Jason's chest as several knives hurled past where Jason's head was a few moments ago. 

Jason thrashed and kicked, feeling the blade embedded within his shoulder sink further into his flesh. He kicked Stephanie off him without abandon, ignoring her indignant shout in favor of scrambling after the Revenants. 

The Revenant holding Tim's unconscious body gave a cursory glance at the Bats before they, alongside the others, disappeared through numerous wavering Doorways. 

Jason screamed as the sharp sting of grief alongside anger and frustration stained his chest like violent, scarlet dye. He lashed out, his eyes blurring with tears behind his goggles. When Bruce tried to reach for him, Jason lashed out, digging his nails into the Dragon's arms as a guttural shriek tore from his throat. The necklace resting against his collar pulsed in time with Tim's "heartbeat," acting as the only reassurance that Tim was alive. 

Jason forced himself to take deep, measured breaths as he watched Bruce pace in the cave with a phone pressed against his ear. The Guardian of Gotham had swallowed his pride and was asking- no, begging- Aspen for help. Barbara was sitting diligently in front of the Batcomputer, her eyes fixated on the screen as she searched wildly for any trace of the Revenants who took Tim. Bruce had tried to send Stephanie home after she'd shifted back, but Bruce had never stood a chance. She was sitting by Barbara's feet, her back pressing into the older girl's legs in an attempt to ground both of them.

Jason had wanted to take the Revenants back for questioning, but the creatures had all escaped when the strange Doorways opened. Not even a corpse was left behind. 

Bruce had forced Jason through a Doorway back to the manor, seeing as Jason was growing lightheaded and on the verge of passing out. When they returned, Alfred tended to Jason's numerous injuries as Bruce contacted anyone he could.

Jason wasn't sure why Bruce tried contacting Superman of all people, seeing as the Kryptonian and Tim have interacted a grand total of 0.5 times. Clark sounded worried and apologetic and even offered his assistance, but Bruce hung up soon after. Next, Bruce phoned Aspen, which was clearly the right thing to do since 1, she was Tim's flavor of magic , and 2, she was apparently Tim's aunt of some kind? Jason honestly had no fucking clue what Aspen’s relationship with Tim and Bruce was, but so long as she got his brother back, Jason couldn't give a shit.

As he took another long, drawn-out breath, he heard the roar of Dick's bike echo through the caves. The bats were out hunting, so they didn't have to deal with spooked animals. 

Jason swallowed past the lump in his throat as Dick's bike thundered to a stop. He tried to get up to greet his brother, but a stab of pain interrupted him. 

"I got here as soon as I could," Dick said, stress and anxiety painted across his face, "I heard- Jason?! "

"Dick," Jason gritted out with a grimace, biting back another hiss of pain. Dick spared the others only a cursory glance before he rushed over to Jason's side. 

To outsiders, Dick would appear concerned and fretful, and they wouldn't be wrong... But there was more. Bruce and Jason- and especially Tim, if he was here- would be able to see past the facade and spot the boiling anger that could barely be concealed. 

"What happened, Jay?"

Jason took in a shaky breath, choking back a sob as he shoved his face into the crook of his brother's neck. Dick held him close, gently humming a soft lullaby from his youth, "It's okay, Jay, we'll get him back. We'll find Tim, and we'll get him back, I promise."

A few hours later, Aspen had given them five potential locations, and explicitly stated that she wasn't sure of their accuracy. Bruce had assigned each of them a location, and now they were on the Batplane heading straight for the Middle East. Barbara stayed behind, acting as their eyes in the sky since she hadn't passed Bruce's "tests" yet. She just told them to get Tim back safe and sound, no matter what they had to do. 

They were dealing with the League of Assassins, so they must be stealthy . 

Four bases, four Bats, and limited time. Who knows what could be happening to Tim as they waited?

Bruce had also tried to get Jason to stay back since "You got stabbed, Jaylad- you need to rest!" Jason calls bullshit, and he was determined to call Bruce and his hypocritical ass out.

"Stay back, my ass! Says the bitch who regularly goes back out on patrol even though he got stabbed!"

"Jason, Sunshine, please ," Bruce tried to plead, but Jason was having none of it. Dick had suspiciously disappeared with Stephanie onto the Batplane, leaving Jason and Bruce to duke it out.

"Don't you "Sunshine" me, Bruce! " Jason spat, "What, you want me to stay here while you go off and try to bring a bird back? Do you need me to remind you how it went last time? Your second ever Robin nearly became roasted chicken because of your negligence!"

The Dragon flinched, opening his mouth to say something in protest, but Jason cut him off.

"NO! You don't get to make this choice for me! This is my choice- MY. CHOICE! If you make me stay here while you try and rescue Tim... and you fail... I'll never forgive you, Bruce, you hear me? I love you, yes, but don't you think for a single second I would  ever  hesitate to leave you if it turns out Tim died on your watch. I nearly died on your watch. There will be no dead birds, understood, B?"

Bruce stared into Jason's eyes, and... wow, Jason didn't even have to crane his head to stare into Bruce's eyes anymore... The sudden thought slammed jarringly into him. To think that he's made it this far against all odds... But Tim wouldn't have the same chance to grow taller than Bruce if he died .

"Plus, Tim mentioned that Dragons have passive healing or whatever? So I'll just sit next to you until we reach the bases, and I'll probably be fine by then."

"Fine," Bruce said, his purple-blue eyes were oddly misty and full of something akin to pride, "I'll allow you to come along then."

A few minutes saw the Bats running last-minute checks on their grapples, supplies, and weapons. 

"We'll target one base each," Bruce said. 

Jason seriously debated if he should use actual bullets rather than his usual rubber and sedative bullets. 

While Bruce wasn't looking, Jason grabbed the magazines of iron and silver bullets (he'd stolen from Hunters he and Tim had busted a few weeks ago) and shoved them into his bandolier. Jason grabbed a few knives and stuffed them into his boots before moving on to the grenades. Next were the bombs -he mulled over whether he should choose the smoke bombs or actual bombs, but Jason still couldn't decide, so he went with both. 

Bruce was busy setting the autopilot for the Batplane, but that didn't mean he couldn't  hear  what Jason was doing. Dick had his back turned toward him, so  he  couldn't see what Jason was doing. Jason also doubts that Dickie Bird would care much, if at all. 

He reached for the special silver Batarangs that Bruce really only allowed Tim to use before accidentally locking eyes with Stephanie. Her dark blue eyes darted toward Jason's silver bullets before locking once again with his. 

She hummed before grabbing a few of the silver Batarangs herself. The thick leather gloves on the werewolf's hands protected her from potential burns as Stephanie took some explosive batarangs, too. 

Jason followed suit, "I'll avoid the heads."

Stephanie raised an amused brow, "But not the hearts?"

The human grinned, pointedly not responding. The best way to keep a Revenant down for good is using something laced with pennyroyal and stabbing it through their hearts. 

But as he opened his mouth to say something, he felt something go wrong. He froze, brows drawing closer in concentration as he tried to figure out what happened.

"Jason...?" Stephanie blinked in confusion, "What's going on?"

Then he realized it. The necklace had stopped thrumming with Tim's magic- Tim's magic was gone - 

" He's gone."

Chapter Text

Contrary to popular belief, mainly his own belief, Timothy, "Lanxing" as Janet and Melinda liked to call him, or legally known as Timothy Jackson Drake, was decidedly not dead. He absolutely felt like he should be dead, but you know… he’s not.

When he next awoke, Tim found himself somewhere entirely different. The Fox immediately shot to attention, his senses overwhelmed with the sheer difference between this new place and Gotham. 

It was warm and bright, and the air smelled like desert sand and spices. Tim tried calling on his magic, but he hissed as a sharp pain spasmed through his muscles in response. 

What the hell was going on?

Tim flexed his hand, wincing as his left ring finger refused to respond. It was likely due to some leftover… substance from what the Revenants had used to drug him. Honestly, he was both surprised and disturbed. Like, it wasn't every day that you find an NMBA that works on a mythic, let alone a Fox .

Golden bands were fixated around his wrists, etched with complex runes and glowing gems. There’s a similar collar around his neck. It was fitted tightly against his skin, far too tight for Tim to remove without harming himself. Tim's Sparrow suit and mask were both missing, replaced by loose-fitting silk clothes that revealed all of Tim's bruises, cuts, and scars. Which was just… ew. 

An uncomfortable, self-conscious feeling bubbled up in his chest as Tim slowly removed himself from what was… basically a nest. That was... nice of his kidnappers, but Jesus, Tim was so uncomfortable. 

A bitter, hopeless feeling rose like bile in his throat- how was his family supposed to find him? Tim was in the middle of ass-fuck nowhere, like, what the hell???

With an irritated growl, Tim took a deep breath before stalking over to the window. He glared at the lacy, fragile curtains before yanking them aside. They pulled apart to reveal a clean, impeccably polished window overlooking a large courtyard with people training within. The people wore dark, tight-fitting clothes as they sparred against one another.

From what he could see, Tim's room was on roughly the third floor of whatever complex he was in. The sun was barely setting, casting brilliant golden rays into his room and drenching the world in warm tones. 

He curled his lips unhappily, yanking the curtains shut before turning back to examine his room. The thin and lacy things did little to shield Tim from the outside world, but it was still better than nothing .

The room itself was bare with boring walls and a singular, armed door. There was a handle, but it was locked from the outside. The knob didn’t have a keyhole Tim could pick, and he hadn't looked around enough to see if there was even a thing he could use as a lock pick. 

Well, time to change that! 

…Hopefully.

Next to the bed was a nightstand; it was the only place that could hide things. Tim slowly and diligently rifled through it. There was a stack of napkins and an object that looked like a call button. Tim was wary of it and had no clue how it worked or who it would alert. He huffed and set it aside to play with later.

Tim took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before beginning to pace. So, what does he know? 

Tim remembers he and Jason were on patrol when the robbers they were trying to take down revealed themselves as Revenants. There were very few organizations capable of producing sentient Revenants and could make NMBAs against mythics, and  had attires that looked like that . Thankfully, Tim knew what the organization was called. The emblems that every ninja and normal person wore also helped to give the idea away. 

Appears Tim had been nabbed by the League of Assassins... but why? Why would the father of Bruce's ex-girlfriend, an Eco-terrorist, Revenant-creating, weirdo of a douchebag, kidnap Tim of all people?

Well, a few months ago, Tim heard from Dick that Ra's Al Ghul had this thing with purity and power and also hated humans. Dick had told Tim that Ra's hated Dick and Jason because they were human and actively criticized Bruce for taking in those "Vile Creatures."

Tim had found it weird then, and he still finds it very weird now. 

As he continued to pace, Tim found himself growing bored. Now that the adrenaline of waking up after being kidnapped faded, Tim finally realized how hungry, thirsty, and tired he was. The pacing probably wasn't doing him any favors, but what else was he supposed to do? Breaking out of the window wasn't viable, and there weren't any ledges Tim could hold onto. His room was also right above the courtyard full of fucking ninjas , and he didn't have any equipment, Dick’s flexibility, nor could he access his magic. 

Overall, a shitty situation. There wasn't anything to entertain himself with, so Tm was stuck pacing like a caged animal for the time being. Honestly, Tim was a caged animal. No matter how pretty a gilded cage is, a cage is still a cage- or something like that. 

How did the saying go anyway? Draw a snake and give it legs? No, then it would become a dragon- no, wait- that was a completely different idiom in a foreign language... Or, at least, he thinks so. Maybe? Hm, Jason would know. 

Tim sat down in front of the window, idly tracing shapes in the glass while staring down at the little shapes below. 

Jason knows all the best book suggestions, even if Tim only ever reads their Sparknotes version. Dick is the most fun to hang out with, and Dick always knew how Tim felt without the Fox saying anything. Getting along with Stephanie was as easy as breathing. He also enjoys hanging out with Barbara, their time together would always end with them racing in some form or another to see who could hack into the Pentagon or other government agencies first. Barbara always won, but Tim was catching up! With Alfred, Tim could silently watch the older man bake or cook, offering his little assistance here and there without a need for words. 

On the other hand, spending time with Bruce was drastically different to spending time with his siblings and Alfred. Don't get him wrong, Tim still loves Bruce, but... Bruce had a strict no-kill rule, and Tim's broken that rule at least twice now. That doesn't stop Bruce from loving him- Tim knows that. Bruce shows him that he still cares in all those small ways- but there is still that sense of unease and foreboding the Dragon holds. It still hurts that there was this tension between them, but it was whatever. Tim regrets not being able to spend time with Bruce like he used to. He thinks Aspen is still tutoring Bruce through his powers, and Tim’s sure the Dragon has been improving in leaps and bounds.

(What Tim doesn't know is that Bruce was avoiding him out of guilt . Bruce knew about Janet’s death, yet he never told Tim. Bruce had thought Tim knew, and Bruce thought Tim had things under control. Bruce blames himself for Janet's death, for Tim's grief, and he is reminded of his guilt every moment he looks at Tim, and that guilt eats away at Bruce every night.) 

At this point, it wasn't like Tim could reach anyone. Scratch that, he could contact someone, but they weren't who Tim wanted... Actually, no, fuck it! Tim was bored, hungry, and thirsty. If his kidnappers had wanted him dead, they would've done so while he was unconscious, not up and about. 

Tim got up and sauntered over to the call button and jabbed it. He hummed as it beeped twice in acknowledgment. Even without his magic, Tim's senses were still better than your run-of-the-mill human. Like now, he could pick out steady footsteps approaching and the distinct lack of the blood-death-venom smell characteristic of the Revenants.

Just as the person was about to open the door, Tim straightened himself and tacked on a regal air, the same confidence Tim remembers his mother having whenever he accompanied her to her business meetings. 

Tim narrowed his eyes as the door opened and started speaking before the servants could get a word in edgewise. Tim chose to forgo English, speaking in prim and proper Mandarin, to establish that powerful, "Regal Fox" persona. Tim was calling upon all those Chinese harem dramas he still liked watching- and Lady Melinda's teachings, of course… Mostly the harem dramas, actually…

"Who are you?" Tim demanded, his back as straight as a rod. 

The servant, a young boy in his late teens and older than Tim, faltered before responding hesitantly in broken Chinese. Tim didn't miss how he kept his head down and eyes averted, "Hello, sir. I-I am one of your servants and will come when you call. I am to be a claw you use to rule beside the Demon Head."

“Claw you use to rule beside the Demon Head"? Strange. Tim needed to learn more. 

He softened his voice. If he couldn't weave mist into his words, this was the next best thing, "Thank you for the information. Was I brought here by the Demon Head?"

The servant nodded, his tense posture relaxing ever-so-slightly. 

"I would like to have a meal, please. And some water."

"Right away, my lord," the servant bowed low before backing out of Tim's room. The door was left open just enough that Tim could spot the ninjas standing guard outside, but it slammed shut before Tim could escape. 

Tim might rely on his magic a bit too much, but he doubts even Dick,the renowned escape artist he is, could escape from this either. 

He sighed and began pacing again. Tim had no clue how long this would take, and he was getting bored and sad. This was a terrible experience. There was no one Tim could talk with, and he felt so utterly miserable. 2/10, points for the blankets and clothes, but -8 for the BOREDOM. 

Tim rearranged the blankets into more of a nest-like shape with an irritated grumble. With a sigh, Tim wandered back over to the window. The sky was darkening, the light quickly fading with the disappearing sun. A few minutes later, Tim hummed in intrigue as the courtyard was illuminated by numerous lamps and the training ninjas began to clear the yard. Soon enough, the courtyard was empty and a weapons rack was carted in. 

As Tim peeled himself away from the window, there was a knock on his door. 

"Come in," Tim called, standing tall as a different servant entered. She bowed low with a sweeping gesture.

She spoke in well-polished Mandarin, her tone the pinnacle of professionalism, "The Demon's Head, alongside his blood and commander, requests your presence for this meal."

Tim blinked in surprise but allowed the servant to lead him out. Tim thought he was just going to be given a meal in his room or something. You know, like a prisoner ?

The corridors were filled with servants rushing around busily. Tim watched them with curious eyes as he walked past, easily keeping pace with his guide. 

Tim was surprised they didn't blindfold him, but it was their loss! Tim eagerly drank in the path and decorations in the hall, the small voice at the back of his head whispering how Jason would've adored the designs. 

Eventually, they reached a dining hall with a large table. Ra's  fucking  Al Ghul himself was seated at the head. To his right was an empty seat, and to his left was Talia al Ghul... Interesting. 

The Al Ghuls were decently well-known in the mythic community yet weren't as famous or influential as Aspen, Bruce, or Lady Melinda. Most of the Foxes Tim spoke to considered the Al Ghuls irrational and detrimental to the rest of the mythics. Some of the most extreme Foxes even entertained the thought of killing them. 

Then, Tim's eyes found the child sitting to the right of Talia al Ghul. He was young, with skin a few shades lighter than Talia's and dark blue-green eyes. As the two locked eyes, Tim couldn't help but think he'd seen the kid somewhere... Did he? Or was Tim tripping. The kid just seemed so... familiar . 

The servant pulled out the chair, and Tim sat beside the empty seat, placing him directly in front of the kid. With a wave from Ras's hand, a flood of servants rushed from the doors and brought over numerous trays piled high with delicious-smelling foods. Plate after plate was placed in front of them alongside bowls of rice and chopsticks. Tim briefly entertained the thought of eating before Ra's Al Ghul, but he banished it. Who knows what Ras would do against that breach of etiquette and blatant disrespect. 

Tim and the kid eyed each other, each sizing the other up. Tim wasn't sure  what  to think of the kid. 

As soon as Ra's Al Ghul began to eat, Tim took the chance and grabbed a piece of the Peking duck. Tim examined their faces, searching for any sign of negative emotions. While Ras seemed intrigued, the kid was borderline terrified on Tim's behalf. 

Strange. 

Talia Al Ghul remained nonchalant, and the kid was last to start eating. 

Tim thinks he could solo everyone here one-on-one if he was allowed magic. The only person who would give Tim a problem would likely be Ras, but only if the Djinn used enchantments. If they were only allowed to use magic, then Tim would win. He's sure of it. 

But alas, Tim couldn't use his magic. What a bummer, honestly. 

Maybe it was because he was tired, or perhaps he was just stupid, but Tim couldn't help but suddenly blurt out, "I think I could solo all of you."

Immediately, Tim shoved food into his mouth. Did he send himself to an early grave? Maybe! Who knows! God, if he dies, who’ll take over Drake Industries? The majority of the company’s stock had transferred to Tim, but Tim couldn’t do anything with it until he was legally an adult. With an internal sigh, he continued to eat as the others stared at him in blatant shock, intrigue, and amusement.

"How about we test that theory, shall we?" Ra's Al Ghul asked, carefully watching Tim's every move. 

"With whom?" Tim asked, abandoning all pretense of regality as he was overcome with curiosity. 

"My grandson," Ra's Al Ghul said as if that wasn't one of the weirdest things Tim had ever had the grace of hearing. What sane person wants a potentially dangerous mythic fighting their- practically a baby- grandson?!

Ra's Al Ghul, that's who. Tim has no doubt that if Ras ever meets with Lady Melinda, Tim's grandmother would absolutely whoop the old bitch’s ass. Janet would too, but you know... She's kinda dead. Can’t really whoop someone's ass when you’re dead. 

Tim grimaced at the thought but purged the thought and locked eyes with the kid, "This is him?"

The kid narrowed his eyes in irritation, "My name is Damian Wayne, Hafid Al Ghul. I am heir to the the Batman and the Demon Head, destined to take my rightful place by my father's side. My goal is to seize the mantle of Robin from Jason Todd."

"Heir to Batman?" Tim raised a brow, ""Seize the Mantle?" From Jason Todd ?"

Maybe they didn't do their research...  

"Are you mocking me?" Damian demanded. 

Ras made a low growling sound, and Damian shrank away. The kid being Bruce's son would explain away the uncanny feeling Tim had while looking at him. 

The Al Ghuls were descendants of the Yazi, one of the nine dragon sons. That explains away their superiority complex, Tim thinks. 

Tim slowly chewed on the duck, not missing how Damian carefully avoided the meat. Vegetarian, maybe? Tim was surprised that Ras would allow his heir to be vegetarian. But Tim also doubts the man was fully invested in Damian's life. Talia seems like the more lenient person, if anything. 

"I have been to ask," Ras began, and Tim's pale blue eyes shot up to lock with the man's, "how have you been enjoying your stay, Timothy?"

After a slow blink, Tim took on a mask of careful nonchalance. The man's eyes were emerald, flecked with gold signature to the Djinns, and held an unsettling intensity. Tim didn't miss that he hadn't told the Djinns his name. This was a blatant display of power. 

"You're the one who sent the Revenants."

"That I am," Ras smiled with too-sharp teeth (Tim can't really complain, Jason's told him he was also uncanny before), "Do you know why I've brought you here, Timothy?"

This was starting to get annoying. It was taking every fiber in Tim's body not to sass the man. Tim knew the man's name, courtesy of Aspen and Lady Melinda, but until Tim had his magic back, there wasn't anything he could do. 

"No, I am unaware of why I am here. All I know is that you kidnapped me, and brought me here, and chained away an integral piece of my identity. 

Damian looked up with an indescribable emotion. Tim met the kid's stare unflinchingly, and the dragonet’s gaze darted to the golden collar and cuffs wrapped tightly around Tim's neck and limbs. 

"I suppose it may seem that way," Ra’s Al Ghul continued, "but it couldn't be further from the truth. You are a brilliant Fox, Timothy, and I invite you to join me, rule beside me as the Demon’s Claw. I have more resources than Batman could offer you, and I could make you a formidable warrior, Poet of the Stars."

Tim tilted his head, thoroughly intrigued. Ras knew the translation of Tim’s title, but he couldn’t pronounce it. Who told it to him? Another Fox? Tim will have to look into it further. “How will you do that, Ras?”

“You’ll see,” Ra’s Al Ghul grinned, “Only after you prove your worth.”

“... How? ”

Ra’s huffed, eyes narrowing in amusement, “By challenging my current heir.”

"Okay, let me get this straight… You want me to prove my worth… by beating up your grandson ?" Tim glanced over at the child. Damian might look like a child, but Tim knew better than to underestimate an opponent. Damian was born and raised in the League of Assassins, so there's no doubt that the child would do whatever it took to... you know, assassinate . 

Damian narrowed his eyes in irritation, but he didn't dare to speak out in front of his grandfather. If that wasn't a red flag, Tim doesn't know what is. 

"In a sense," Ras responded, taking a regal sip from his wine glass, "We shall see this duel commence in an hour."

Tim took in a deep breath, silently weighing his options. "Fine. I would like to return to my room and collect myself until then- will that be alright?"

Ras gave him a look before eventually nodding, "Very well, an hour it is."

Chapter Text

Tim wasn't sure how he was going to do this. He has an hour to prepare and gather his wits before being forced to fight the son of Talia al Ghul  and  Batman. 

A ninja stood at Tim's side, watching his every move with an intensity only Revenants possess. The smell of Death and blood was heavy in the air, once again characteristic of a Revenant revived by the Lazarus Pit. 

If Tim was allowed to use his magic, he could overpower Damian and maybe alert the Bats where he was. He could even send out the magic equivalent of a flare and notify Aspen. Tim doubts that Bruce would skip over contacting the older Dragon. 

Djinns were known for their powerful magic and three-wish-granting ability, but it belonged only to the pure-blooded Djinns. Lesser Djinns, on the other hand, like the Al Ghuls, could only shapeshift and change their appearance. Since Damian was only an eighth Djinn, he couldn't do much other than change his skin, eyes, and hair color. Ras and Talia could probably change their height and hair length too. 

It was Damian's other lineage that would prove troublesome. He had the blood of Yazi, the dragon son who loved to fight, and that would give him a competitive nature. Unlike his fellow Yinlongs, Yazi couldn't manipulate water. Instead, Yazi had the unique ability to master any physical weapon he wields. That ability is unique to the children of Yazi. That made them magnificent warriors. 

That made Damian dangerous. 

Damian also had Bruce's Night Razer blood pulsing through his veins, which meant that he could not only manipulate fires but  also  open Doorways. He doesn't think Damian could use those powers too well since he couldn't be trained.

There was a chance that Ras would only allow Damian to use his abilities and force Tim to fight magic-less. In that case, Tim would not stand a chance. 

Two scenarios could happen. One, Ras allows both Tim and Damian to use their powers. Two, Ras allows  only   Tim to use his powers, or Three, Ras allows only   Damian  to use his powers. In two out of three scenarios, Tim would win. Still, that doesn't give him the option to slack off. 

Tim frowned, glancing at the Revenant, "Do you think Ras will let me use my magic?"

The Revenant, obviously, remained silent. 

"Yeah, I thought so... Hey, how long do I have left?"

"Twenty-seven minutes and thirty-four seconds remaining," the ninja answered obediently. 

Okay, so how was he going to do this? How would one go about conquering the seemingly unconquerable? Tim has no clue. With magic, maybe? What if they have iron? 

Of course, they have iron. 

The Al Ghuls are nothing but prepared. 

But how does he go about this?

He hummed. Tim wonders how Ras keeps his assassins under his control or how he turns them into Revenants in the first place. The compound had regular human servants around, but what was stopping them from deserting? Was it something akin to worship? It would make sense. Djinns could live up to thousands of years, and humans were prone to deifying creatures and things they didn't understand. Maybe it wouldn't be a stretch to say that the servants consider Ra's al Ghul and, by proxy, Damian and Talia as deities. 

"Hey, psst," Tim addressed the Revenant again, "why do none of you desert?"

The ninja blinked as if surprised that Tim spoke to her directly, and she gave Tim a blank and empty look, "I'm afraid I do not understand, my Liege."

"What's keeping all of you from leaving Ra's Al Ghul?" Tim asked, "Nothing is keeping you here."

"My ancestors have all served the great Demon Head in purging this world of inferior and unworthy humans. We are blessed with a second chance of life by the great Demon Head, and he will lead us as he did thousands of years ago."

Tim blinked in surprise, silently mulling over what she'd told him. He doubts that what she described was what actually occurred. Before Tim said another word, the Revenant straightened and nodded toward the door. He hummed and trailed behind her, quietly noticing that the entire compound was eerily silent. It was almost as if the world was holding its breath in anticipation. Tim couldn't say he blamed it- this will be  very  anticipation-worthy. 

The Revenant led Tim to a large, open-aired arena. Damian, Talia, and Ras were already waiting for him there. Damian had changed clothes, now wearing something simple and white, sturdy yet breathable, his blue eyes staring intently into Tim's eyes. The dragonet's eyes constantly shifted colors, changing from a gold-flecked emerald to a dark teal to a dark blue-purple. 

"Would I be allowed my powers, Ras?" Tim asked, tilting his head with a challenge in his eyes. "This is a show of skills, after all, and how can I successfully display my abilities if you forbid me from using them in the first place?"

Damian straightened immediately, "Grandfather, I concur. May I and the Fox be allowed to utilize our abilities to the fullest extent? I wish to prove my full worth and would like a duel without any handicaps."

How old was this kid? The only people Tim thinks would speak like this for fun are Alfred and Jason. Alfred because that man was a thousand+ years old deity of time, and Jason since he just liked Shakespeare and other classical pieces a lot. Tim wonders what kind of books Damian has read before. Would he and Jason bond over them? Who knows, maybe!

Ras narrowed his eyes before nodding, "Very well, then. But bear in mind, Timothy, if you decide to escape, your privileges will wane further."

"Fine by me," Tim smiled serenely and walked forward. He watched with mindful and attentive eyes as Ras carefully undid Tim's collar and cuffs. The thin metal fell away from his skin and into Ra's palms, allowing the warm night air to grace Tim's skin. The courtyard was lit solely by flickering orbs of fire drifting in the air, a few feet above Tim's height.

The fire cast shadows that danced and shifted, curling and flickering as if breathing. 

He took a deep breath, feeling his chilling magic flood his limbs for the first time in hours. The shadows around his feet curled and shifted in time with his every inhalation, barely noticeable against the dancing light of the fires. It felt nearly euphoric to have his magic back, his fangs and claws lengthening at his whim. He could hear Damian's heartbeat from where he stood. Tim's eyes closed and tilted toward the sky as his throat was bared in a subtle challenge. 

He reached his magic out and noted the living creatures existing within the compound, their Self standing stark against the darkness of space. The Revenants had duller-colored Selves than the humans, which wasn't surprising. Ras, Talia, and Damian all had emerald-laced souls. Damian, in particular, had a bright golden core characteristic of Dragons. 

After finishing basking in the glow of his returning magic, Tim steadied himself. Tim felt Damian's eyes pin against the back of his neck as he stepped in front of an imposing weapon rack. It was filled with numerous blades and weaponry, some Tim couldn't even name. 

So, instead of choosing one of the fancy and flashy weapons, Tim decided on something he was already familiar with. Tim remembers Bruce training him in many of these weapons, but he should choose the one calling out to him- or something like that. 

Many of the weapons on the rack were made of iron, too, and he wasn't stupid enough to think this wasn't anything  but  a test. Which sucks because iron is one of the best conductors of all magic that  wasn't  Fox. 

There was also the decision of whether he wanted something lethal or not. Lady Melinda would say yes to lethality, Bruce would say to always choose the non-lethal weapons, and Janet would agree with the Fox.

Oh well. It's two against one, so the Foxes win this time. Sorry, Bruce. 

There was a knife free from any foreign enchants or iron. The blade was made from obsidian, and the hilt was gold and silver, perfect for conducting his magic. 

"Have you finished your preparations?" Damian asked as Tim took his place facing the young Dragon. Bruce's son eyed Tim's knife almost condescendingly as if he was mentally berating him for choosing a weapon that he thought posed zero threat. 

Tim will embarrass this kid so hard. Maybe he shouldn't show off all his abilities and hold back. Holding back would incline Ras to underestimate him when the time comes, but Tim really wants to show off, or at least a little. He's been  so  bored, a little entertainment wouldn't hurt- Right?

Well, no, it would hurt. Tim could practically hear both Janet and Lady Melinda gently scold him for his poor choice of thoughts. 

Bummer. 

"Yes, I am ready," Tim sighed. He kept his limbs loose and relaxed. The shadows connecting to his own tensed at his will, gently writhing on the ground as Ras gave the signal. 

Tim moved first, using the darkness as cover as he ducked past the kid's first slash. Tim slashed the knife across his palm, spilling crimson blood onto the ground as he started to spell out runes under his breath. 

"Coward," Damian spat, "come out and face me!"

"Careful what you wish for!" Tim let out a low hiss, the darkness around him scattering as he launched himself into the air. 

Damian's blue eyes colored with both awe and fear as Tim filled the arena with mist, kicking his feet out at the last second to send Damian careening backward. The kid came to his senses quickly, throwing Tim off of him before leaping to his feet. 

Tim mirrors the move, a thrilled smile etched across his face as the two circle each other. He could rarely ever do this with the Bats, seeing as they either couldn't counter his magic (Jason), didn't know  how  to counter Tim's magic (Bruce), or had an extreme case of holding back (Dick).

Ras and Talia watched in muted anticipation, exchanging quiet words of praise or criticism as Damian and Tim had at each other. 

Tim flicked his left hand, sending droplets of blood flying through the air. Damian tried to dodge, but some of Tim's blood still landed on his face on his clothes, staining the white cloth red. 

"What do you seek to accomplish with this, Drake?!" Damian spat.

"You'll see," Tim hissed back. Should he shift? No, that'll be revealing too much. 

Tim hissed in pain as a blade slashed across his bicep. Before he could do anything, a burning pain wracked through his flesh, and he fell to his knees. Chills ran up his spine, sinking into his bones as a wave of heat and cold alternated their torment upon his muscles. 

Tim looked up just in time to see a knife heading toward his face, and he barely rolled away in time. 

"Your hubris is your downfall, Drake," Damian sneered as Tim swallowed past the urge to vomit. 

His blood stained the fine sand a deep, dark, crimson color. This was going to be hell. 

Tim tightened his grip around the hilt of his dagger. It would be a terrible idea to try and use spells that required blood-formed runes, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and Tim was very desperate. Because unlike his father, Damian clearly had zero qualms about killing. 

What a joy.

Tim growled, pushing off against the ground as Damian lunged for him again. With a split second to come to a decision, Tim allowed his fangs to lengthen before sinking his jaws into Damian's leg. 

"Ya ibn el sharmouta!" the dragonet cursed, whipping a new knife from somewhere before plunging it into Tim's shoulder. At least this knife wasn't made of iron. 

He grunted in pain, but instead of letting go, Tim used the obsidian knife and stabbed it into the kid's thigh. 

Tim wretched himself away as blood ran down his face, bringing the dagger as he went. His arm wound bled sluggishly but stung with the pain of an angry hornet every time Tim even thought of moving. His right shoulder had a knife sticking out of it, but at least he could still fight. It hurt like a bitch.

For now, he'll have to make do and keep the knife in. The Bats don't need him bleeding out in the middle of ass-fuck nowhere before they can rescue him.

Tim's breathing grew labored, each breath feeling like a chore as Damian panted. They were in a near complete contrast, with Tim taking deep and measured breaths while Damian's were short and gasping. 

The two stared the other down, and Tim couldn't help but distantly yearn for his den. Guess he shouldn't have been so cocky after all... Will he stop?

Hah!

No. 

Tim's lips twisted into something halfway between cocky and weary, "Is this all you've got?"

The kid was about to respond while scalding words, but Ra's Al Ghul interrupted with a disapproving tsk, "You are not using all of your abilities, Timothy."

Damian bristled at the realization, and a burning and betrayed anger illuminated his eyes, "How DARE you look down upon me!"

"Eh, kinda hard not to when you're so short."

"You will PAY FOR THIS!" Damian roared, and the orbs of fire above thrashed with the dragonet's intensity.

This might've been a bad idea...

Tim decided to go fuck it, and he reached back and yanked the knife from his shoulder. He hissed at the spike of pain and burst of blood, but Tim still hurled it at Damian's head. 

The dragonet dodged easily, "If you wish to catch me unaware-"

Tim sprang forward from where he'd blended into the shadows and snuck behind the dragonet. Tim seized Damian in a chokehold. 

The kid immediately began to thrash and attempt to escape, but Tim used shadowed claws and tried to grasp Damian's Self. 

As Tim struggled to find a way through Damian's mental barriers, the dragonet hooked a leg behind Tim's knee, and they toppled over. 

Tim yelped as the impact winded him briefly, but at least he dragged Damian down alongside him. Tim sank his claws into Damian's arms, talons ripping the kid's clothes as sand was into the air, replacing the dissipating mist with dense dust clouds.

A snarl tore through their chests, the two boys wrestling on the ground, fighting battles both mentally and physically. 

"I'd bet you liked eating mud as a kid!" Tim shouted into Damian's ear in a last-ditch effort to distract the kid. Originally, hooking claws into Damian's Self was akin to trying to scale a smooth, rain-slick metal pole during a downpour. 

Damian did a double take, his concentration faltering just enough for Tim to finally clutch a handhold. Now, that aforementioned metaphorical pole had ridges and footholds that allowed Tim at least a chance of holding on. As small as that chance may be, a chance is still a chance! 

Once Tim's influence was secured, Damian fell limp in his arms. The dragonet's eyes glazed over, and his Self squirmed in his grasp, but Tim still heaved a sigh of exhausted relief. The portion of Tim's blood that was laced with magic helped lighten Tim's workload. If he hadn't had done that risky move before hand, Tim was sure he'd have ran out of energy long ago. Yes, he might be a two-tailed Fox, but that didn't mean he could do sustained blood-magic, thank you. That would be a vampire's area of expertise!

Tim collapsed onto the clumpy sand that was damp with the amount of spilled blood. Thankfully, the searing pain from Tim's wounds had retreated into a migraine-level throb. The iron that had coated Damian's knife didn't seem to last long. It was most likely supposed to incapacitate Foxes and the Fey, not send them to fucking Death.

Tim found another scenario where he could've died. Yippee.

If the iron utilized had been the coagulating kind that Fox Hunters used, then Tim would've been in serious trouble. 

Thankfully, it wasn't, so Tim had won... Probably. What would they consider to be winning? Because of this, this is 100% the work of a winner. After all,  Tim's  the conscious one. 

Ra's Al Ghul walked over, and Tim couldn't help the borderline petulant groan that escaped his lips. Everything ached, and he just wanted to go home. Ras was such a freaking bastard.

"Get up, Timothy."

"But what if I don't want to?" Tim grumbled, shoving his face further into his elbow. Damian's body was like a heavy weighted blanket, and it was taking quite a bit out of him to keep the dragonet subdued. Why did Damian's Self, his  soul , have to be so squirmy. Gods above, that was  so  annoying to deal with. 

Ras growled lowly, irritation coloring his tone, "Very well. I'll have servants arrive shortly to escort you to the baths."

Without another word, Ras marched away. Who's the petulant one now, Ras? Tim, or the baby throwing a tantrum because he didn't get attention? 

Boo hoo, cry about it. 

"You know the Batman's identity, correct?"

Tim lifted his head to stare into Talia's eyes, gently unhooking his shadowed claws from Damian's Self. "Why do you want to know?"

Talia's lips twitched with the slightest hint of irritation, "Damian."

The dragonet struggled to regain control of his facilities, but he still managed a "Mother?"

"Your new mission is to integrate yourself and learn from your father, the Batman," Talia stated, her voice bordering on cold and callous. "Timothy defeated you in a duel, which places him as your Greater. Treat him as such."

Without another word, she got up and left. Only Tim and Damian were left. The fire orbs above their heads continued to flicker as Tim took a moment to examine Damian's expression. He was conflicted, that's for sure, but Tim needed to do something before he passed out from blood loss. 

Tim was slightly confused about why Ras didn't force Tim back into the magic blockers, maybe he wanted Talia to do it? Tim had absolutely zero idea why, and he was far too dizzy to think any further. Whatever. Don't look gift a mule in the pack or something like that. Tim frankly has no clue- he was raised Chinese. 不要拒绝别人的好意, or "don't reject others' kindness." See? Far more succinct and straight to the point, just... so long as you ignore the vast majority of other Chinese idioms, that is.

Now that Ras was farther away and less likely to notice Tim's little skit, Tim gathered his magic and focused it into a single point. He took a few deep breaths as his limbs warmed at the sheer amount of new magic, most of which he stole directly from Damian. 

Tim compressed the magic as tight as possible before forcing it directly into the air like a beacon. He wasn't sure if it worked, but using Damian's ambient magic helped conceal his own and allowed Tim to do what he needed to without alerting Ras.

"... What are you doing?" Damian asked, sensing the air shift. 

Tim hummed, fighting back the need to vomit. He felt lightheaded and dizzy, "What do you know about me?"

Damian was silent, and Tim could practically feel the kid's nervousness staining the air. "You obviously know my weaknesses, and you know my surname."

After a beat of silence, Damian began to speak, "You are a Fox born of a Fox and a renowned Hunter, yet you do not possess the stain of human blood. Grandfather says that you are a miracle and that you are the descendant of Death itself."

Tim snorted, anger bubbling in his chest at the reminder of Jack, and- wow, his wounds were hurting really bad. 

Tim has a bad feeling about this...

"What's so funny about that?" Damian demanded, an irritated twist to his lips.

"Do you know how to heal?" Tim asked, pointedly avoiding Damian's question. Maybe he won't ask again...

"..."

"Okay, so, no..." Tim hummed. The fine sand clung to his skin and made him feel gritty and dirty. Ugh. 

Damian huffed, "Are you not uncomfortable?"

"Eh, I'm comfortable enough," that was a lie, but Tim didn't think he could move without vomiting all over the place. "Did you know that Batman is capable of healing?"

"Is that so?" Damian asked, his interest piqued. 

"Mhm," with a pained groan, Tim hulled himself to his feet and hissed. The air was tinged with a hint of Damian's concern, but it was quickly washed away by the arrival of two human-smelling servants. They seemed familiar, but their faces were covered. The pair were taller than Tim and Damian, but the one on the right towered over them all. 

Tim huffed, struggling to his feet as Damian stood by his side, a wary sort of respect in his eyes. Tim met the servants' eyes, "Will you be bringing us to the baths?"

One nodded, eyes darting briefly to Damian before returning to Tim's. Their eyes were blue. 

The servant on the left had an intense and saturated shade of cerulean, whereas the other had eyes tinged with green, more turquoise if anything... 

Hold on, something was wrong here... 

Tim narrowed his eyes in suspicion, and if he pushed past the pained haze, he could pick up on his brothers' unique heartbeats...

Holy shit, they're here.

They're here.

He felt a lump swell in his throat, his eyes beginning to burn with tears as he realized his brothers were  there.

"Follow us," Jason said, and Damian narrowed his eyes. 

"That is not how you address your superiors,  human ," Damian said with a scathing tone. 

Tim twitched, forcing himself not to snarl as his instincts snapped at him to defend his Skulk's honor. Jason's hand twitched, irritation clear in the tense lines of his body. Tim could feel the pulse of his magic resting on his brother's collar.

"My apologies, my lord," Dick said, bowing low and regal, a performer through and through, "my partner is unused to your presence and is prone to outbursts from anxiety."

Damian hummed, distrusting of Dick's words. If push comes to shove Tim could knock him unconscious and restrain him. 

Dick turned and led them down the hall where a Doorway stood.

"What is the  meaning  of this?" Damian hissed, his muscles tense as he slowly began to back away. Anger burned in his eyes, and Tim knew the kid was out of weapons. 

"You wanted to meet your father, right?" Tim said, "And what was it that Talia said? "Integrate yourself and learn from your father?""

Damian hesitated, eyes narrowing as emotions warred in that little head of his. 

"If you don't come willingly, then I'll knock you out and kidnap you," Tim offered offhandedly, and that seemed to seal the deal. 

The dragonet faltered before following Dick through the Doorway. Tim was next, and he turned around in time to see Jason chuck a handful of bombs into the hallway before ducking through the Doorway. The bombs detonated, and Tim could feel the vibrations rip through the facility. Thankfully, the Doorway slammed shut and prevented any shrapnel from hurtling through. 

The smell of spices, sand, venom, and blood was quickly chased away by the cold air that graced his skin. The sudden change in altitude startled him, but Tim quickly shook it off. 

As soon as he felt safe, Tim turned to face Jason, "I'm about to pass out."

"Tim? Wait- no- TIM!"

Chapter Text

Jason screamed in frustration, anger pounding in his veins as he hurled a chunk of concrete at the wall. The facility was in ruins, and the assassins had all fled before Jason could interrogate them. The chunk of concrete shattered upon impact, raining dust and debris down onto him.

"Fuck!"

The necklace against his collar remained dead and lifeless, just like Tim. 

"Phoenix," Bruce's voice filtered through the comms, "you need to calm down."

"Calm- You want me to calm down? You BASTARD. My brother is dead, and you want me to CALM DOWN-"

"Jason," Dick interrupted with an edge to his voice, "Jason, stop. You can yell at Bruce later, but we need to focus on finding Tim first."

Jason huffed, stepping through the Doorway Bruce had opened for him. Jason glared at his father through the goggles, everything clear despite the red tint of the glass. Bruce was dusty, his cape ripped despite its sturdy material, and he appeared haggard and worn. It was almost enough to make Jason feel guilty for that… 

…Ehhh…

"...Did you find anything?" Bruce asked, still using his Batman voice. 

"Fuck off," Jason spat, irritation sparking at his adoptive father’s voice, "No, I didn't find shit. Where’s the next one?"

Bruce opened his mouth to say something, but Steph's voice interrupted them.

"Hey, I know you two are having a heart-to-heart and all that, but I have something."

Jason and Bruce both straightened, the two unwittingly in sync, "Starling, report."

"Nice to hear from you, too," Jason practically heard  Steph roll her eyes, and he could tell that Bruce was having one of his patented contemplations about life, "I can smell Tim's blood from where I'm standing, there’s a ton of it… moon above, holy shit…"

"Where are you?" Jason asked with worry coloring his voice. His grip tightened on the hilt of his gun, and he was hyper aware of the silver bullets sitting within the magazine. Hopefully Jason wouldn’t have to use it any more than he already had. 

"I went exploring and ended up with some servants. I followed them into this weird, fancy-ass castle compound place, and then I picked up Tim’s scent. It seemed to come from this courtyard, so I tried looking for him. Now I’m in this weird hallway and- shit," Stephanie dropped to a low hiss, the comms barely able to pick up on her voice, “I need to go.”

"Starling?" Dick asked, a concerned edge to his voice, “Steph? Steph, what happened?”

Barabara's voice filtered through their comms, "Starling's in a precarious situation, so she needs to concentrate. I've moved her to a separate channel and will bring her back when things clear."

"Alright then… I've finished with mine, but no dice," Dick said, giving his comms a tap, "We should pursue Starling's lead."

Bruce nodded, reaching up and twisting open a Doorway. Dick's hair was gray with dust, his skin glistened with sweat, and his posture was tense with anxiety. In short, Dick Grayson looked like shit.

Jason’s pretty sure he looked equally shitty, but still! He and Dick were known as brothers for a reason…

"We need to extract Startling," Bruce said, "Dick, Jason, you two will retrieve Sparrow."

Dick and Jason were the two "humans" humans of the Bats, so they'll have an easier time infiltrating the compound and retrieving Tim's... Body. Jason was about to give an affirmative, but he was interrupted by the feeling of a faux heartbeat against his collar.

Confusion inundated his veins in a violent surge before being quickly replaced by a tentative, fluttering hope.

"Jason…?" Dick looked up from where he was wiping his face with a damp towel, worry etched across his face, "Jay, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

"He's..." Jason reached up to wrap a hand around his necklace, and there it was. The metal was warm, thrumming with the soft buzzing of magic. It was active, it was pulsing and beating in time to a heartbeat mile upon miles away. Jason’s brother was alive- Jason’s baby brother was alive— "Tim's alive."

A heavy silence blanketed the Batplane, the tension so thick that a knife would’ve struggled to slice through. Jason didn’t dare to speak on the off chance that the “heartbeat” would disappear again. The only noise Jason could hear was the steady whirring of the plane’s engine. 

"What?" his eldest brother nearly shrieked in surprise, "Wait, hold on, what happened?!”

Jason threw his hands up, his voice bordering on hysteria, "Fuck if I know! I- thank god he's safe."

He blinked furiously, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. Jason couldn't be sure until he saw Tim for himself. Dick was in a similar state, hope resting just under a layer of tears in his eyes. 

Bruce took a shaky and measured breath, "Okay. Owl, is Starling safe?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Stephanie sighed. A Doorway rippled open, and she stepped through. She looked weary and tired, "I almost got busted by Ras. That fucker stank and he smelled straight up like ass . He smelled just like one of those Revenant assassins."

"Means he's taken a dip in the pit before," Jason recalled Tim saying something like when he was info dumping. 

The Dragon hummed in confirmation, "He has. Phoenix, get cleaned up and head in with Nightwing."

"Fine."

"Understood, B."

Jason blinked as Stephanie dragged two unconscious servants into the Batplane. 

Dick gaped at her, "Uhhh..."

She rolled her eyes as Jason helped her commandeer the servants' clothes. "If you don't want to do this, I can."

It was an empty threat, they all knew that, but it still got Dick to move. 

After stripping off his outer clothes and leaving on the inner armor, Jason clothed himself in the light yet sturdy clothes and stood by the table. Dick joined him a few seconds later, and Jason's determination was mirrored in the first Robin's eyes. 

"Good luck," Barbara said, her voice steady and sure. 

Dick nodded, a sure smile on his face, "Alright, Phoenix, it's showtime!"

He sighed, "Break a leg, I guess."

"Break a leg," Bruce echoed, his eyes pinned against their backs as Dick and Jason disappeared through a Doorway. 

"How are we gonna do this?" Jason asked, exchanging looks with Dick. 

"Follow my lead," Dick nodded, and they moved as one. They reached the end of the corridor and pushed open the door. 

The moment they stepped through, Jason locked eyes with Tim. Jason’s baby brother was ragged, pale, and covered head to toe with sand, blood, and scratches. Beside him was a young boy, probably ten or eleven, with dark skin and eyes that constantly shifted colors. Both of the kids were bloodied and banged up, with Tim the worst of the two. 

Anxiety clung to Jason's throat as the need to bundle his brother away grew to a nearly overpowering extent. He would've done what he wanted if not for Dick's hand brushing against his forearm, a subtle warning to stay back. 

The kid tensed and narrowed his eyes when he saw Jason looking. What a weird kid. 

Tim huffed and shuffled forward. Jason showed restraint could rival even gods as he forced his feet to stay rooted to the one spot. He could see Dick battling similar demons from the corner of his eyes. The two would love nothing more than to wrap their little brother up in bubble wrap and keep him somewhere safe. 

"Will you be bringing us to the baths?" Tim asked as he locked eyes with Jason.

He nodded curtly, breaking eye contact to glance at the kid. He looked… strangely familiar. Has Jason seen him before somewhere?

Now that he was closer, Jason could see multiple fresh wounds littered across Tim's skin. His baby brother was wearing something he would have never willingly touch. That silken attire was practically in shreds, barely hanging on through the sheer will of god himself. The silk was also stained an almost black color. Tim's pants, on the other hand, were intact, if not torn and dirty. Still, in far better shape than his tunic.

Jason could see blood slowly oozing from Tim's left bicep… That was weird. Most of Tim’s injuries would’ve closed in a matter of minutes, and the amount of blood suggested he’d been bleeding for far longer. 

The scar across Tim's neck was on display- but it was clearly done against the Fox's will. Tim's body language screamed of wary self-consciousness, and his other arm- wait, what the fuck , was Tim stabbed?! 

"Follow us," Jason blurted out, absolutely unphased by Dick's subtle jab at his hips. 

The kid standing beside Tim like a guard dog narrowed his eyes into slits, "That is not how you address your superiors, human."

Jason's hands twitched, itching to grab his gun and tranq the damn kid. The way he spat human felt reminiscent of when the blue-blooded Gotham socialites would jeer and make thinly veiled comments about Dick’s heritage. Alas, a glance at Dick forced Jason to not do anything drastic, like whipping out a gun and shooting the kid in the arm. His only condolence was that Tim looked like he was about to rip the kid a new one. 

Dick gave a low bow, smacking Jason’s side so that he'd follow suit. It didn't take much convincing as the two bent at the hip and brushed their hands against the sand. The blood of performers flowed through Dick's veins, and Jason was just a theater kid, so they were both born and bred to be dramatic assholes. 

"My apologies, my lord. My partner is unused to your presence and is prone to outbursts from anxiety."

The kid seemed to relax at Dick's honey-coated words. Following Dick's lead, Jason straightened, and they began their trek down the halls. 

At the halfway point, Barbara gave Bruce a confirmation and a Doorway shifted into existence. 

The kid, startled at the sudden appearance of a mahogany door, jerked back, a flash of fear crossing through his eyes.

"What is the meaning of this?!" the kid snarled, his entire body tense as he slowly began to back away. Anger bubbled in his eyes, and Jason found himself tempted once more to knock the kid unconscious and leave him there. 

This was why he retired from Robin- so Jason could beat up kids without abandon!

…Well, no, that was a joke... But still! Jason wanted to wrap his hands around this kid's throat and choke him. Dick would be pretty disappointed, though, so that probably wouldn't be a good idea. Bruce too, and Alfred.

Tim sighed and faced the unruly child with a resigned expression. "You wanted to meet your father, right? And what was it that Talia said? "Integrate yourself and learn from your father?""

Jason furrowed his brows. Who was this kid's dad, and who in the world could charm the Talia Al Ghul into having their kid? 

The kid growled, teetering precariously on the edge of running and following. 

"If you don't come willingly, then I'll knock you out and kidnap you," Tim said in a casual tone as if he wasn't seconds away from fainting due to blood loss. What a liar… 

Jason wants to drag his brother back home and shove food into his mouth and force the Fox into bedrest. Who gave Tim the right to be unlucky?! Sure, they've all been kidnapped at one point or another, so often in fact that it’s become a Wayne's rite of passage, but no one, and Jason means no one, has ever been kidnapped quite as much as Tim has. Not even Dick!

The kid hesitated for a second before warily shuffling forward. Tim followed Dick through the Doorway, and then the kid trudged in behind him. Jason grabbed a handful of bombs and tossed them into the hallway before darting through the closing portal. 

Just as the Doorway slammed shut, Jason felt the vibration from all the bombs rumble through the Batplane. There was a dull thunk as shrapnel slammed against the magical wood, but that was also vanquished by the Doorway disappearing. 

Jason backed up, a smug-ish smile on his lips as Tim turned to face him. Tim’s expression was really concerning. 

"I'm about to pass out."

Hold on, what.

"Tim? Wait- NO- TIM!"

Chapter Text

Jason scrambled to grab Tim before he could crash against the floor. He winced as he accidentally pressed against one of Tim's many open wounds. 

Dick flittered closer, his brows furrowing in concern, "Is he alright?"

But before Jason could open his mouth, a low growl rumbled through the Batplane. Stephanie and Bruce looked over from where they stood, and Jason whipped around to see the strange child stalk forward. 

"Unhand the Fox, human," the child spat, his eyes flickering between green and a deep sapphire-violet hue similar to Bruce's.

"Uhh..." Dick trailed off, grimacing as he stripped off the servants' attire, briefly exchanging confused looks with Jason and Stephanie. 

Their not-quite father sighed, sounding more than weary as he hovered at Jason's side. The human rolled his eyes and handed Tim off to Bruce, who laid him on a lone cot to examine and check over. 

Dick ducked away to grab a med kit for Bruce while Jason stared off against the kid.

This kid looks scrawny enough that Jason could beat him in a fight. He's so tiny, what could he do against him? But then he remembered Tim's wounds and how much blood he lost...

"You were the one that stabbed him," Jason hissed, vitriol barely contained in his voice. His muscles were taught as he barely kept himself from strangling the kid. Who the hell did he think he was to hurt Jason's baby brother?!

"It was a duel," the kid spat back, turning up his nose at Jason, "the Fox was the one who won, and I, too, sustained numerous injuries. It is only due to my heritage that I am still standing."

Jason scoffed, his hands clenching at his side, "And what might your "heritage" be, kid?"

He straightened, the kid's head held high as he pridefully stated, "I am Damian Wayne, Hafid Al Ghul, son of The Batman, heir to the Demon Head."

"Son... Of Batman?" Stephanie gawked, whipping around to stare at the back of Bruce's head. The Dragon tensed, but his attention remained fixated on the unconscious Fox.

"Yes, Son of Batman," Damian looked over to eye Bruce's back, "My mother is Talia al Ghul, and I am to be the heir of Batman."

Jason screwed his face into a grimace, Dick's expression mirroring his. Bruce remained silent and stoic from where he was, focusing solely on disinfecting and stitching Tim's wounds.

"And how are you going to accomplish that?" Jason asked with an edge to his voice. 

Damian huffed, his tone haughty and prideful, "You are not privy to that information, human."

"Will you tell me?" Stephanie asked dryly, remaining unsurprised as the kid hissed at her.

Damian narrowed his eyes, staring down his nose at the werewolf, "You are unworthy, wolf ."

Stephanie recoiled, an offended and incredulous expression etched across her face, "Excuse me?"

The tension in the Batplane was palpable. Low growls thundered through the air as Stephanie and Damian faced off. Jason stepped away, hand migrating to the gun at his waist as Dick stepped forward to try and mediate the situation. 

"Steph, stand down," Dick warned with an edge to his voice. Stephanie, surprisingly, backed off. Jason felt slightly cheated- she never listened to  him . But whatever, he'll have time to sulk when they're back at the manor.

He backed away from the situation and rushed to Bruce's side, "Go defuse the situation. I've got Tim."

Bruce hesitated briefly, but Jason's glare forced him into action. 

Jason went through the motions, gently hooking Tim up to the temporary IV drip of painkillers and a heart monitor. 

"Damian," Bruce sounded utterly exhausted, "what did Talia want you to do?"

The Dragonet straightened, looking Bruce up and down with a critical expression, "I expected you to be... taller. More imposing... but I  suppose  you will do. Mother instructed me to integrate within your ranks and assert myself as your heir. I am to re-challenge Timothy and then Jason Peter Todd to claim the title of Robin."

Jason blinked, his hands faltering from where he was covering Tim with a blanket. Barbara's voice crackled sarcastically through his ear, "Well, isn't he an angel."

Thankfully, Damian didn't seem to hear her comment. 

"Talia wanted you to challenge m- Jason?" he questioned incredulously, exchanging looks with Dick from across the Batplane.

Damian narrowed his eyes at Jason's slip-up, "That is what I said, human, or are you incapable of understanding higher thought?"

" Damian,"  Bruce scolded, seemingly caught between defending Jason and not wanting to chase Damian away.

Jason clenched his hands around the blanket before realizing something, "Dick, did we ever return the servants?"

His brother jolted, his eyes widening in surprise, "Oh sh-"

"You two are idiots," Stephanie snarked, "I tossed them in one of the many hallways while you two grabbed Tim and the brat."

"You  stupid   mutt! "

"Call me that again, I  fucking  dare you," Stephanie snarled, the tension returning to the air. 

Damian bristled, his eyes gleaming with fury, "I am Damian  Al Ghul,  and you  will  treat me with respect!"

"Like  hell , I will!" Damian spat, inches away from launching claw-first at Stephanie's face.

"Steph," Dick warned, "stand down."

The werewolf snarled wordlessly, far too lost in anger to listen. Take that, Dick! Hah! That's how it feels to be ignored!

But seriously, this was starting to get out of hand.

"Stephanie!" Jason tried his hand, but as expected, she didn't listen. Bruce tried next, but he, too, failed spectacularly. Which was surprising, because the werewolf usually listened to

Tim obnoxiously groaned as he kicked at the bed, "Would you shut up?"

The two growling mythics snapped over at the sound of Tim's voice. Tim glared at them, his voice tinged with irritation, "I was having a wonderful sleep, and you two just had to ruin it! Do you want me to bleed to death?!"

"Tim-" Stephanie tried to reason, but the Fox interrupted.

"I don't care,"  he tossed his head back, letting out a pained hiss as the movement agitated his numerous wounds.

Jason frowned, an offended expression crossing his face as Dick practically shoved him aside. 

"Baby Bird!" Dick cried, "Are you okay?! Does anything hurt?"

Tim nodded, pouting at their eldest brother. His eyes filled with those signature crocodile tears that Tim knew would bend not only Dick, but Jason, Bruce, and Alfred to his will. "Yeah, everything hurts, Dickie... Can you hold me? Pretty please? I'm so, so sleepy, Dickie, and they woke me up."

Jason blinked in amusement as Dick simply melted at Tim's watery, pleading eyes. Somehow, Tim managed to dispel the tension with only a few sentences. And now that Dick had his sleepy baby brother in his arms, Jason was sure the almost-human would stop at nothing short of world domination to allow Tim the most restful sleep ever. 

"Of course, sweetheart," Dick cooed, softly smiling as Tim shifted Skins and cured into his arms.

Damian opens his mouth to say something, and Jason's heart goes to the brat. He's been at the receiving end of Dick Grayson's wrath before... Never again. Jason had learned his lessons and served his time. 

"If you say a single word about me being a human unworthy of holding my baby brother," Dick's voice was low, cold, and held a knife-like edge, "I will lock you in an industrial freezer and watch you go into torpor. I swear to all things holy, nothing will save you if you ever call Stephanie a "mutt" or demean any of my siblings again. Do you understand me, Damian?"

Jason watched in muted awe and satisfaction as Damian reeled back in shock. The demon brat was left speechless and appalled at the sudden shift from Dick's meditative personality to the fierce and murderous persona of whatever  this  was. 

"I said," Dick snarled, eyes flashing unnaturally with his anger, "Do. You. Understand me, Damian?"

The Dragonet nodded, shuffling anxiously as Jason sighed, the human leaned against the cot as silence blanketed the Batplane.

The silence was tense, a little too tense, but at least it was silence. 

"How long do we have left, B?" Jason called, slumping against Dick's side. His brother hummed and pressed back, his hands gently carding through Tim's fur. The Fox's tails wagged gently in his sleep, and a soft purr thrummed through the air even as he slept. Honestly, Tim's purring could cure any sickness, and Jason stands firmly by that.

Bruce hummed, pushing back his cowl and checking the Batplane's navigation system. "Three hours. Owl, can you alert Aspen of Sparrows's retrieval?"

"Yeah, of course," Barbara said, "Also, Aspen said he could open a doorway for the plane if you wanted."

"She can do that?" Jason blinked in surprise, "Wouldn't that be..."

"Impossible?" Steph supplied from where she sat by Jason's leg.

He nodded, "Yeah! Bruce doesn't know how to do that."

"Well, Bruce knows jack shit about magic," Dick said teasingly.

"Father's capabilities are more than adequate!" Damian huffed indignantly on Bruce's behalf. 

Jason gave him a side-long stare, "That's nice, buddy. Anyway, what do you say, Bruce?"

"We'll be able to get Tim home faster," Stephanie offered with a tired smile.

That seemed to seal the deal, and Bruce nodded. "Does she require our coordinates, or-"

Suddenly, the air shifted abruptly from the salty ocean to the acidic air of Gotham. Jason jolted at the sudden change, blinking rapidly as Dick's presence grounded him, "Oh shit, that was fast."

Bruce quickly took control of the plane and deactivated autopilot. Jason sat back, taking a deep breath as his pseudo-father flew the Batplane into the cave. The landing was just rough enough to jolt Tim back into consciousness. 

Dick lifted Tim into his arms before exiting the Batplane. Jason followed close behind. Next to leave was Bruce, followed by Damian, and then Stephanie. Barbara awaited them alongside Alfred and Aspen. The Guardian Dragon Metropolis stepped forward to exchange words with Bruce. Meanwhile, Alfred practically dragged Damian away to show the Dragonet his new room. 

"Alright," Dick gently scratched the itch behind Tim's ear, "let's get you cleaned up, hm?"

The Fox purred sleepily, thumping his tail against Dick's arm as his eldest brother laughed fondly. Tim allowed himself to go boneless, melting against his brother's warmth as he carried Tim into Bruce's principal bathroom. 

The faucet hissed as Dick cranked the water to slightly above lukewarm. Tim hissed weakly, whining as Dick plopped him into the rising water.

"You're so mean," Tim trilled, pawing weakly at the tub's rim. Dick, the evil evil human, cooed and gave Tim an amused smile. 

"Is the Baby Bird sleepy?" Dick cooed, returning with Tim's favorite shampoo and Conditioner. "Here, close your eyes."

Tim huffed but obeyed, tilting his head back as Dick hummed above him. His brother's hand carded through Tim's fur, carefully scrubbing out the dried blood matting his fur. Dick murmured a soft apology as he accidentally pressed into Tim's barely-healed wounds. 

The Fox dozed off as the warmth seeped into his bones, chasing away the soreness buried within Tim's muscles. After Dick rinsed out Tim's fur and dried him off, the almost-human hoisted him up into his arms and nudged open the door to the Fox's door. He gently laid Tim down in the center of the nest of blankets and stolen clothes. He watched with a soft and fond expression as Tim blinked lazily up at him. With a gentle kiss on the center of Tim's forehead, Dick draped a light blanket over the Fox's back, "Sleep well, Baby Bird. I love you."

Damian might be out for blood... but that was tomorrow Tim's problem. For now, he gave a gentle trill before succumbing to the dark abyss of sleep.