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Damian looks at his watch for the fifth time this evening and sighs, as one might expect, for the fifth time this evening.
It's not like he expects the time to pass any quicker, but gods would he love it if it does. Every time he looks back at the hands, it feels like they're moving slower and slower each time, fraction by fraction every second.
Of course, it's exhaustively typical of galas. Every one of them, it just keeps getting more mind-numbingly boring. Not to mention the people - if he has to endure one more cheek pinch, one more sugar-sweet coo, he is going to break out the knives, public reputations and secret identities be dammed.
This one, unfortunately, is set right in his house. So he can't escape halfway through, lest he be accosted by guests in the halls, or have one more stupid article be published by the numerous eyes of reporters that are scattered around the floor of one of the massive ballrooms they have. Vicki Vale, in a poisonous green dress that looks as horrible as she is, frilly and taking up entirely too much space, is standing over in the corner, talking with a businessman, but her eyes are fixed solely on the Wayne family. Damian wants nothing more than to escape right then and there.
As if reading his thoughts, Timothy sidles up to him with a saccharine smile on his face, a glass of some amber liquid, and says through gritted teeth, "You better not be thinking about leaving, brat, or I swear to god I will sicc Dick on you."
Damian scoffs, but grudgingly banishes all thoughts of skipping out like their lovely siblings have been able to - Cassandra and Stephanie were both injured in the recent gang war last night, so they're on bed rest, and Jason is dealing with the aftermath of said gang war, so they all get free passes. Somewhere to his left, Duke is grinning through a painful interaction with the old ladies - Damian's been granted a little reprieve, which he's grateful for, and Father is clapping Richard on the back with a hearty laugh that both brother grimace at.
"That better not be champagne," Damian shoots back. Tim rolls his eyes, taking a sip - Damian swipes it from him and downs the rest, letting the alcohol fizzle down his throat, ignoring Timothy's protests. Champagne has never been his favourite, always too airy for his tastes, but he grew up with Dionysus as a camp leader. He's tasted plenty of alcohol.
(And mixed plenty of poison into them.)
Still, it's good enough to distract him from the pain that is galas for a few seconds. The moment is abruptly ruined by Timothy snatching the glass back and scowling, breaking his facade for a precious moment. "Bruce better not have seen that," he warns.
Damian smiles. "I could say the same thing about your disastrous cooking attempts last weekend."
Timothy's expression turns to rage in a flat second, and then smooths out into the suave CEO as a new business strikes up a conversation. It's always fascinating to see his family transform into their civilian personas, Damian muses, and even more fun to rile them up right before they have to do it. Jason is a usual accomplice in those schemes. It's fun.
Damian stands there for another minute, looks at his watch and sighs again, then at his phone.
"Boo."
He does not startle, too well-trained for it, but he doesn't turn around just yet. He adjusts his jacket, feigning disinterest, until the person behind him rolls their eyes - he feels it through the air - and instead moves in front of him, so they're faced each other.
Rachel Elizabeth Dare is dressed in a silk mint jumpsuit, hair up in a bun pinned with a gold hair clip shaped like a leaf, and her eyes are sparkling with mischief. The jumpsuit is cut in a way that makes it look like there's a skirt layered over it, probably the only reason she was allowed to wear it, and earrings dot the side of her head in gold and green. A snake bracelet along with several other bangles decorate her arms, and on her middle finger lies a sole ring.
"Dare," Damian says coolly.
"Wayne," Rachel replies, smiling cheekily.
He breaks first, to no one's surprise. He's always been...soft...for his demigod family. His lips split into a small smile, and he ducks his head to look at his glass instead of at Rachel, lest he do something embarrassing like give into his urge to hug her. God forbid anyone - including his family - especially his family - see him willingly display affection. Perish the thought.
She does it for him, pulling him close and wrapping her arms around his back. The hug is tight, and she smells almost exactly like she did last summer, with the typical scent of strawberries - seriously, no one can escape it, once it's there it's never getting off - and acrylic paint mixed with the smell of nectar. Her soul is as vibrant as ever, with the pulsing spirit of Delphi...pretty spread evenly, actually. Weird. Usually the spirit likes to choose a certain body part and settle there for a while.
"It's good to see you," she murmurs into his ear. "You've grown."
Damian clears his throat. "Yes, that is generally what happens in the span of four months."
She takes it for what it is - I missed you - with a smile and a laugh, ruffling his hair up. The bangles clang against each other as she does. "How've you been?"
"Good," he responds after a second. "It's...going the same. I'm thinking about telling them soon."
Rachel smiles warmly. "I'm glad. That's great."
"And you? You've never been to Gotham. How's everyone else?"
"Got a flood of new kids," Rachel tells him, huffing a breath when he grabs a flute of champagne. She swiftly confiscates it, downing half of it and grimacing at the taste, but still finishing it. "No underage drinking in public," she reminds him, then continues. "Cute, but clueless. And I'm here 'cause Dad's thinking 'bout expanding to Jersey. Don't know what he thinks he'll find in Gotham, but probably something to do with WE. Tell your dad not to accept it."
Damian rolls his eyes. "I'll pass along the message."
Rachel deposits the alcohol down on the table. "I don't suppose we can skip?"
Damian considers. He'll definitely get in a lot of trouble for it, but...
Well, it's Rachel. And like he said. He's got a weak spot for his first family.
"Come on," he says, beckoning to the stairs, and she grins.
***
WKGC
dickhead: anyone see little d?
tim-tam: rght side last i checked
tim-tam: which was like
tim-tam: five min ago
dickhead: i dont see him
dickhead: duke?
dukeoftewkesbury: nope
dukeoftewkesbury: hold on
dukeoftewkesbury: ok some guests say they saw him going upstairs with a redhead? what's up w that
dickhead: ...im gonna go find him
***
Damian's door is slightly open when Dick peeks inside. Behind him, he shushes the rest of the siblings, taking care to open the door as quietly as possible.
" - that's two points for me, hah. Okay, next one?"
The TV is switched to a channel with some kind of...trial...on it?
The redhead Duke mentioned is lying with her head on the edge upside down, while Damian is sitting upright, his tie tossed to the side and top button of his blouse undone. Which. Only ever happens when he's around one of them.
A pair of green heels and Dami's black flats have been kicked off to the side. The tinny voice of the TV is speaking.
" - Jean Grey, 26, accused with the murder of her husband, Brennan Grey, 28 - "
"How 'bout you try this time," the redhead offers. Dick clocks her as Rachel Dare, daughter of William Dare, the last person he'd expect to see in Damian's room. Which. Sounds really wrong when you phrase it that way. "What'll happen?"
There's a moment of silence as Damian squints at the screen - his hair is all messed up, spiking out in every direction, combined with the intense concentration he's directing to the screen, is adorable - before he nods to himself, seemingly sure, and says, "Knife."
Amused, Rachel says, "Knife?"
"Knife." Damian nods to himself again.
"I can't tell if it's your murderous inclinations or your actual Sight," Rachel remarks, before squinting at the screen herself, eerily similar to how Damian did. If Dick's not imagining things, her eyes grow just a tad bit sharper, a little brighter, before they snap back to their original state, and she sighs, "Fine, point."
Damian makes a smug sound. "You can come out now, Richard."
Dick jumps sheepishly, suddenly pinned under the weight of two identical gazes, both with those startling green eyes, one Lazarus-green and the other a little lighter and a little mistier. "Guilty," he admits, before pushing the door open all the way and leaning against it. "What're you guys doing?"
Dare motions to the screen. "Hearing. Trials and tribulations. Convictions. Y'know, detective stuff. Have to say, nice to meet you, Mr. Grayson. I've heard a lot about you."
Dick nods to her, keeping the plastic smile in place. "Miss Dare. Likewise. Dames, can I talk to you?"
"Sure. Talk."
"Privately," Dick clarifies, and Damian's lips twist into an unhappy frown. Dare laughs at this, pets him on the head, and Dick's curiosity grows into something like apprehension.
Remembers one woman taking advantage of him, and remembers never wanting that to happen again.
(Dare looks nice, of course, but she's nearly twenty, and Damian's just turning twelve, and Dick knows all too well that some people are not what they seem.)
"I don't see why," Damian says, like he's stating the obvious. "And tell the others to stop hovering. It's annoying."
Everyone looks surprised to be made, which, at this point, should not be - Damian's shown that he has the best people-sense of them all, and they all know their siblings snoop.
"Yeah, just come in," Dare agrees. Her eyes glow again, to that too-bright state.
Dick frowns, but at Damian's gesture, enters, and so do the rest. Every sibling, bar Jason shuffles into the room with varying degrees of guilt, from Steph at a six to Tim at a negative 2.
"Close the door behind you," Dare suddenly says. Cass reaches behind her to do so.
"What do you want," Damian scowls.
"Just wondering why you're not at the gala," Dick says, purposefully light. He sits down at the foot of the bed - his siblings scatter around the bedroom in their various spots, Steph bumping shoulders with Damian and Tim and Cass fighting over the beanbag in the corner. Cass wins; Tim grumbles as he's forced to the side. Duke is at Damian's back, leaning against each other.
Damian shrugs. "I didn't feel like it," he answers. "Dare seemed like a suitable conversationalist for the evening."
"So you decided to bring her into the house?"
Damian shrugs again. Then, in perfect synchronicity, him and Dare tilt their heads towards the TV and say, "Knife," just as the woman on trial leaps up from her seat and stabs her lawyer.
"What the fuck," Tim mutters. "Creepy."
Duke, meanwhile, is looking at Rachel like she's a puzzle that he has to solve.
Dare, who is standing by the door. Damian, instead of answering the questions, looks at her.
Her eyes are glowing brighter.
"Rachel," Damian says, then repeats when there's no answer, "Rachel. What's happening?"
She doesn't answer, because the blast knocks her forward and the Bats back. She doesn't answer, because the Manor explodes.
There's a ringing in Dick's ear and he feels disorientated, vision tilting this way and that, the only thought running through his mind that he needs to get to the Cave, whoever did this is going to pay, and then he sees his siblings, already upright and helping each other.
Damian is by Rachel's side, and they're exchanging terse words - Dick's head is still ringing, but it doesn't sound like English - and she's on her stomach, and her back is scorched red. Her teeth are gritted, and she's holding onto Damian like a lifeline.
"Go," Damian snaps at Dick when he hesitates. "All of you, go!"
The siblings exchange a quick look - whatever is up with Damian and Dare, they can deal with later, the fact that she apparently knows who they are, they need to get to the Cave, because the chances of this not being a targeted attack with almost all of the Waynes in one place are close to zero.
Last Dick sees of his brother is him pulling out a phone - one Dick has never seen before, bronze and slim, and dialling 911.
***
Rachel winces with every pull of the tweezers.
Maybe placing herself in front of the blast wasn't the smartest move, but it was the best. This way, Damian's family could take care of the threat quick and easy, and the ambulance was about ten times faster than if she had done nothing.
The future has many versions. When it comes to Rachel, she can see multiple versions of it. The spirit just doesn't like it much, but hell if she's just going to sit there and do nothing. The Oracle is just supposed to be a messenger, but Rachel Dare wants her brother to survive, thankyouverymuch.
She sucks in a breath as another splinter is pulled out of her back. Damian clicks his tongue in his own version of fretting, seated next to her in the back of the ambulance, the panic in his eyes not yet faded.
There are a lot of splinters.
"I know," the paramedic who's pulling them out says sympathetically. "Sucks. But 'm gonna have to get 'em all out, then put some cream for the burns. 's gonna be uncomfortable to shower 'nd lie down for a few weeks."
Rachel smiles weakly. The crowd of Waynes is making their way towards the youngest son, again - they break off as they get there, leaving only the oldest and Duke. Dick's eyes are filled with worry as he approaches them, reaching out for Dami's shoulder instinctively.
"Hey." Duke smiles at her. "You okay?"
She smiles back weakly. "Peachy. Uh, could you..." she holds out a hand, and he smiles confusedly, holding out his palm - she grabs his hand instead, pulling him close and whispers, "There's blood on your shirt, button up one," before releasing him with her necklace. "Thanks for holding it," she adds lamely, just in case there are any listening ears.
Duke straightens, still smiling, though now it's turned guarded. "No problem." He adjusts his cuff links, then his jacket, doing as she said.
"Right, that should be it," the paramedic announces.
Rachel winces. "Uh, missed one in the elbow. And the one in my shoulder."
She can feel the doubt radiating from the woman, but it disappears quickly when she inspects the area and finds tiny flecks of wood in there. The paramedic hums, discontent, and then starts up a second examination.
In front of her, Dick Grayson is fixing her with a very distrustful look.
"That was idiotic," Damian mutters to her in Greek. "Stepping in front of the blast?"
Rachel shrugs and hisses when cold air hits the wounds. "The alternative would be worse," she replies. Luckily, being the Oracle seems to give her the ability to understand both Latin and Greek.
"Rachel!" She mentally groans when William Dare starts towards her. "Are you okay, oh my god - "
"I'm fine, Dad," she sighs, "don't worry."
He runs a critical eye over her. "Hospital?"
"No, it's fine." Rachel waves him away. "Seriously, Dad. No biggie. Besides, we still have that burn cream from when Beatrice burnt herself, remember? I'll be fine."
"You're getting a look over once we get back to New York," he tells her. Rachel frowns.
"What? No. I'm staying in Gotham, remember? Two weeks."
"Rachel," her dad sighs, and she interrupts.
"No, you can't take it back. Two weeks. You promised."
"It's not safe here," he tries to argue.
"I'll be fine," she insists. "I'm staying with them, remember?" Dick jolts a little when she gestures to them. Damian just blinks. "They've got the Bats and all protecting them."
His lip curls up a little in a sneer. "You're coming back to the hotel. We'll discuss it then."
Rachel rolls her eyes as he walks away, on the phone. Probably complaining to Beatrice about teenagers or something.
"Staying with us?" Damian asks.
Rachel shrugs. "Only way i could get him to agree. Besides, no way you're going to refuse the woman who saved you, are you?" She smiles. Damian narrows his eyes. The two other Wayne siblings look disbelieving, but Damian knows she's telling the truth.
"Fine," he grumbles, "but you're telling Alfred."
From the surprised look from the other two, this is not typical. Rachel smiles anyway.
"First thing I did. I don't have a death wish, y'know."
"Could have fooled me," Damian grumbles, and presses a little closer to her. Rachel leans into it, savouring the feeling of her little brother back with her.
...this is bound to be interesting.