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The light that guided his way merely provided more for the shadows that tucked deeply into his sides from rooftop to rooftop. Tim had never intended to be more than a fan of Batman and Robin with the mind of a detective, but he supposes this was always inevitable. As a small child, he’d practically been a shadow as he followed his favorite vigilantes around. He knew Gotham better than he knew himself. He knew how to follow the streetlights and understood each hole that became an extra security blanket during the most dangerous of nights in the city he so adored.
He knew when the shadows were supposed to move and when he was the moving shadow.
He’d certainly been followed enough throughout his time as both Robin and Red Robin that he could even sense stature and intent without more than a second glance. It gave him the confidence to move up to one of the taller buildings in the Narrows and settle against his bo staff as he waited for those who aspired to be a shadow to follow him into one.
The first movement could have been the most fluid assassin if there wasn’t a splash of color to distinguish the figure. Merely steps away was more of a shadow in composure without the increased stealth of one, though he didn’t doubt that the figure could blend into shadows, despite the colors worn that often bounced off the bright lights of Gotham. Tim also knew why both figures had chosen to reveal themselves now - they needed his attention.
“Nightwing,” he purred out. “Robin. However may I service you, this evening?”
Damian Wayne scowled and crossed his arms across his chest at the mocking. Tim still counted the motion as a win. Especially in the field, Damian wouldn’t have ever closed himself off like that at a potential threat. The boy had made it clear that he’d always seen Tim as a threat. Tim, however, had proven himself in saving the kid’s life a handful of times, saving his father from the trappings of a venture lost through the time stream, and provided sufficient forewarning of League of Assassins attempting to reach him - amongst many of their other allies. Even Al Ghuls had to acknowledge an ally for what it was.
Dick Grayson, however, was the one who responded in that bright voice intended for siblings rather than a vigilante encounter. “How are ya doin’, baby bird?” He asked brightly. While Tim couldn’t see the man’s eyes through the domino mask he wore, he could tell from the microscopic movements of his facial expression that his teal eyes were analyzing Tim the way he would an opponent or an injured teammate as he took in every detail that he may have missed in their brief interactions as of recent.
Him made it a point to make his eye roll obvious by facial expression as he settled to lean against his bo staff. “I don’t think you two altered your patrol route this far Southwest to ask me how I’m doing.”
Damian tutted. “I am informed that the way of the family name is politeness to detect how another is doing.”
Tim chuckled, to Damian’s clear dismay. “You’re twelve, demon. You’re supposed to be a brat and give your father gray hairs every time you leave the house.”
Something about the statement had Nightwing - not Dick, not with the way his posture changed - darting to look over Tim once more, as if something had changed since he last looked ten seconds prior. Damian, meanwhile, was palming his katana and letting the motion itself be more of a threat than actual use of the device. Tim just let them both have their moment and when the silence between them stretched, he nodded to Dick.
Dick cleared his throat. “The Lancaster case seems like it’s moving down to your region. At some point between now and next week.”
Tim snorted. “Like moving twenty minutes south is going to save them from the Bats?” He lifted his wrist computer to his face to start flipping through files. “What do you need from me?”
“Their methods are very Mafia in nature. We were sort of hoping you would have intel on mafia in your region.” Tim had never been more grateful to hear Nightwing’s voice, as opposed to the gravelly voice of grief and anger that Batman had built up over the years. Dick Grayson was so much like Batman in a lot of ways - but neither of them had wanted Batman for him. Dick was always one to create his own legacy.
Tim didn’t think now was the point in time to express that pride, though. Especially considering they were only mostly okay with each other after Bruce’s disappearance and the shifting of the Robin mantle. Saving each other’s lives pretty much the second he got back to town had led itself to being the majority of what they needed to talk again. By the time Dick caught Tim from his shove out a window, most of the anger had already faded.
Tim instead focused on the case. It was the Bat way to repress emotion with the Mission. “The Falcones have been moving around in the area. I suspect they’re preparing something. Luckily, they’re not likely to recuperate their resources for at least another month or so. Otherwise, mafia forces seem to be avoiding the area for the brief time being.”
Dick snorted. “You attack their bank accounts again or something?”
Tim opened his mouth to respond. “Something like-“ he suddenly straightened. He used his Shiva training to hold onto the staff like the weapon it was instead of the support stick he had been messing with it as.
Damian straightened with him and looked around for who the two of them sensed. Dick wasn’t far behind as he palmed his escrima sticks without knowing the direction of the threat.
Damian’s eyes went wide through his domino as he ducked in the rooftop. “League of Assassins.” The title was a whispered hiss in Arabic, though Tim doubted that the kid noticed.
Tim was already calculating the strengths and weaknesses of this batch of ninjas based on the way they stood. They weren’t staring up at him, per say, but certainly knew where he was by their stance. Surprise wouldn’t do. It was fine, he’d dealt with worse. Tim smirked and didn’t even glance over at Robin and Nightwing as he spoke. “It seems I have a delivery. Fall back, I’ve got this.”
He didn’t wait for them to react, already moving to the apartments next to the building they were on and moving through there to bounce between the fire escapes of two buildings and ending up perched on the streetlight closest to the assassins.
“While I’m flattered,” Tim took great satisfaction in watching two of the five fighters swing to face him in surprise. “This is both weak and redundant. I didn’t even get a rocket launcher with a cute little robin on it.”
He had to detect what he could from their eyes while the masks covered their faces. It was easy enough work, most League members had heard of him in one capacity or another and evading a rocket launcher was a favorite he’d heard before he blew up all of their base computers. That was likely the newest topic.
They all moved in unison. There was a near choreographed dance between all of them. They all had different versions of League training and fought like it with their own respective weapons. Tim’s bo staff, clicking as he shifted it from regular staff to staff with a blade extending out of both ends, swung above Assassin A’s head just perfectly enough to throw off Assassin B while shoving Assassins C and D into the wall in a perfect unit. He let himself throw in a single flip to twist into the near minor injury that had been in Assassin E’s wrist and twist them with him to let them land with a forceful thud against the ground. Twist. Hit. Slide. Hit. Dodge. Twist. Hit. Slide. Hit. Dodge. The motions were beauty in the way they embodied fluent violence.
Until there was just Assassin A left conscious, her eyes reflecting off the streetlight in a bright hazel focus. “You could simply provide the Master what he wants. We could be done with this childish foolishness.” Tim danced away as she went to hit at his knees.
Tim hummed as if he was considering the offer, jabbing against her arm as she hissed. “You know, I could. But what’s the fun in that? You know, considering I am still a child until July.”
Her eyes flashed with rage - which is what he’d been waiting for. Rage could be honed, but for many League of Assassins members, it was often made reckless. In provoking her, he’d made sure she was more focused on him than herself.
It took another eighteen seconds before he had her unconscious as well.
He didn’t stick around for them to wake up. He knew what they wanted and Ra’s would quickly learn that his playful attempts against Tim’s life had continued to fail. They’d both likely expected it.
It wasn’t particularly surprising to find that Nightwing and Robin had both followed him, though had clearly gone through a different route of buildings. But as Red Robin landed on the building with heaving breaths, he wasn’t expecting to find the eyes of the Robin domino wide as he looked between Tim and the alley of downed assassins. The boy’s hands were shaking as he took in the Red Robin before he fell to his knees.
Nightwing instantly moved to the little Robin and held his face as the boy cried. “I cannot escape that wretched place.” Damian murmured through tears. “A sword hidden under my pillow and Grandfather still - still insists on getting the least expected. When we’re on a route we’re not meant to be on. I had... almost hoped but hope is too much - how do I tell him that I do not wish to be the Demon’s Heir?” Damian’s voice was shaking. There was no mistaking that he was a child wearing the armor of a colorful soldier. Dick is instantly murmuring assurances. We’ll never let you go back. You are stronger than them. We’ve got you. I’ve got you. He’s carefully removing the domino mask from Damian’s eyes before the tears make it painful against his skin.
It is in that moment that Tim realizes that he has severely miscalculated. He’d been sparse regarding the details of his international trip that led to the evidence required to save Bruce from the time stream. He had near forgotten that he had changed the dynamic of the place Damian was raised. He had forgotten that the boy continued to fear the mantle he was created for. Tim had forgotten that Damian was simply a scared child who lashed out at Tim to ensure that they needed him. Tim already knew what it was like to desperately be needed in order to protect himself. He’d simply forgotten that he wasn’t the only one.
“Dick,” Tim murmured. They were too high to be heard, which may be the only grace provided in the moment. This was not a conversation for vigilantes. Only siblings. “I’ve got this.”
Dick tilted his head in Tim’s direction. “Tim, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” His voice is nearly as low.
Tim’s already lightly shoving Dick out of the way. He’s pleasantly surprised that the man moves easily. Tim crouches to be eye level with Damian. He lets his hands hover underneath Damian’s, not quite touching while the kid is feeling so volatile but an assurance that he’s still there. “There are some things you need to know. Things I should have told you much earlier about the League of Assassins.”
Dick shifts next to them. Tim lets his focus stay on Damian until the boy is actually looking at him. “The assassins were not here for you. They were here for me.”
Damian wipes an eye to look at Tim more clearly through the tears. “Why?”
Tim takes a deep breath. “When I went looking for Bruce, I was… coerced into accepting Ra’s Al Ghul’s help.” Both brothers flinch but Tim ignores it. “He needed me to defeat an enemy in exchange for all of his resources to find Bruce. Which meant I got unrestricted access to his computer systems. I had people monitoring me, of course. But that didn’t matter. When I was in the system, I manually wiped everything about you and the others. Then, just to make sure the message stuck, I hacked into the systems worldwide. And I blew them up.”
Damian inhaled sharply. “Blew up…” Tim could see the kid’s mind whirling. “The computer generators? Those are huge.”
Tim nodded once. “I threw out a warning for people to get out. But it would have taken down all of their bases.” He took his own deep breath while the two processed before continuing. “I’m not naive enough to think that there isn’t a base that’s off the grid. Nor that I took them down completely. But it was a hit to their system. One they could have recovered a little more quickly with the resources of Wayne Enterprises.”
He watched the two of them as the puzzle piece they hadn’t even known was missing from Ra’s attacking in Gotham clicked in. Dick’s looking at him with a new gaze but still says nothing as he processes.
“As it is,” Tim continues. “The only data of value they’d be able to recover from their systems is on a single USB that I took. Once or twice a month, a group of them come into Gotham for a flashdrive. They are not here for you, baby bat.”
Damian’s hands land in Tim’s and he’s gripping tightly. “But - I’m meant to be Grandfather’s heir.”
Tim closes his eyes. He shoves away the feeling of chains on his arms and naked skin on him as she dismantles his suit. “I can also assure you that that has changed as well. The Al Ghuls are currently attempting to produce a new heir.” Dick’s eyes are now watching Tim carefully, as if attempting to pull the information he’s not saying out based on body language.
Damian’s eyes go wide. “Why?”
Tim sighs, brushing his thumbs over Damian’s knuckles. “You found something more powerful than the League when you came here. You made a name for yourself that the League won’t be able to break. And honestly, I think Ra’s is annoyed about losing the Wayne legacy so many times. So he shifted over to someone knew.”
Damian’s eyes are still glassy and wide. “But Mother wouldn’t -“
Tim shakes his head with a small smile. “She isn’t. The Daughters of Acheron are the ones taking the steps to attempt to produce a new heir. Talia is not getting a say in the ‘ritual’ or who is a part of it.”
Damian inhales a shaking breath. There is a long moment as he fully takes in the new layers of information that Tim’s brought him. Then his eyes look into Tim’s. He has his mother’s eyes but they’re filled with such vulnerability that Taila Al Ghul would have never reveal that it’s easy to dismiss the look as being him instead of her. This is simply a scared child, looking at one of the Robins as he speaks in a small voice. “Does this mean I can put away the swords under my pillow and bed?”
Tim feels the shaking of emotion in his chest as he lifts his hands to gently grip Damian’s face. “You are no longer a weapon. You can be a child now.”