Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: not mine

Chapter 1

He didn’t mind being partnered with Hood, they weren’t brothers but things had been better between them since he’d come back from his Bruce quest. It definitely beat being teamed up with the brat. Jason moved ahead of him, sweeping the area, gun drawn. Tim had his bō in one hand and a scanner in the other. It was a prototype but if it worked it would really help in situations like this.

Tim hoped it worked because the old mall was huge and they were running out of time. What the hell was the Riddler playing at? Sure, the mall was mostly abandoned but they’d had to evacuate a bunch of homeless people when they arrived. And if it blew there were a lot of buildings around it that would be damaged and those did have people in them.

“Anything?”

“Not…there,” he felt a flash of relief as the scanner began. “About ten feet to the north.”

And sure enough, there was a bomb…with a riddle attached to disarm it. Wonderful. The timers were counting down, too fast.

“One down,” he reported over comms and they moved on. He had the countdown on his wrist computer as they moved.

“How many more?” Dick asked, breathing a little heavier as they moved as quickly through the mall as they could without risking missing any.

“Six,” Oracle answered tensely.

“We’re running out of time,” Damian snapped.

The got another disarmed and kept moving. Other than the countdown…it was almost too easy. He could tell Jason was thinking the same thing too.

“Clear this side!” Steph called. “Getting out.”

“Nightwing?” Bartman growled.

“One left.”

“Red Robin?”

“Two,” Tim answered. They were cutting it way too close. He turned as he heard something and his eyes went wide. “GET DOWN!” he screamed, throwing himself at Jason, knowing the others would hear over the comm.

He slammed into Jason, sending him flying forward, right as the whole place went up.

Bruce staggered to his feet, looking down to find Damian safely pressed to his chest. He had covered his son as he leapt from the building, hearing Tim’s scream. His heavier armour had handled what of the blast had reached them, thankfully. Robin’s lighter gear would not have stood up to it. He would be increasing Damian’s armour, just like he had when Tim had become Robin. But it seemed the Robin suit was still too lightly armoured.

“Report in!” He snapped, heart racing. They’d all made it out, they had to.

“Nightwing and Spoiler, clear.” Came immediately…and then silence.

“Red Hood, Red Robin, report,” he ordered.

He waited, heart in his throat but there was only silence. No…not again.

Jason coughed, slowly opening his eyes to find the night vision in his helmet active. It was pitch black, that wasn’t right. He frowned, trying to remember…Tim screaming, slamming into him…oh. They hadn’t made it. Carefully, he began checking himself over, bruised and battered but he didn’t think anything was broken. So he slowly began to push himself up. Broken concrete, pooling water, rebar…it looked like the basement maybe? There wasn’t a lot of room to move though.

“Red?” he called before coughing again, looked like the filters in the helmet were damaged. There was no answer. Had they fallen separately? But the kid had been right against his back. “RED!” He yelled again, fighting to keep his breathing even. It was fine, he was fine. This wasn’t like that time.

“O, you hear me?” he called over the comm but there was only static, great. He got to his hands and knees, ready to try and find Tim and then he heard it, a gasp and then coughing. “Red?”

“H…Ho..d?” the voice was quiet and thin, but definitely Tim.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. “I’m coming to you.” He began to crawl towards where he’d heard him. There was debris between them and it slowed him down. He hated it, wanted to be trying to get out…but Tim had pushed him out of the way, he couldn’t leave him. “Talk to me Red.”

“Nggg…” that didn’t sound good.

“Come on kid, stay awake,” he pushed, getting a pained whine in response. Jason swallowed, he’d heard that sound before…the Tower. He closed his eyes, pushing the memories back. He had to stay focused. He carefully pushed at a slab of concrete and then he saw Tim.

The night vision mode made him look washed out and Jason froze…that wasn’t just water under him. He swallowed but forced himself to move closer, looking him over, and he fought back the urge to gag.

“Tim?” he whispered.

The kid was twisted as if he’d tried to get out of the way…but he’d been too slow. A massive slab of concrete had his right arm and leg pinned in place. There was a bleeding gash down his face, cutting into his domino but hopefully missing his eye.

“J…Ja…”

“Shh, don’t try to talk,” he soothed, kneeling beside him. Very carefully he began patting him down, looking for other injuries, especially spinal or possible organ involvement but everything felt okay. “Alright, let’s see if we can get you lying more comfortably. Okay? I’m going to turn you onto your back, don’t try to help, let me do it. Understand?”

“Kay,” Tim whispered.

Jason very carefully began to shift Tim back towards his right, hearing the soft noises of pain Tim couldn’t hold in. “Almost done.” He finally got the kid flat on his back and then pulled his own jacket off, folding it up as a pillow. “There we go. How’s the pain?”

“Ca…can’t feel…”

“Can’t feel what?” he asked, not allowing his alarm to show.

“Arm…leg…”

That probably wasn’t good. The slab had to weigh what, a tonne? That kind of weight probably would have killed Tim even with the armour if it had landed anywhere on his body, it would have crushed bones and organs…which meant his arm and leg…crush injuries were dangerous. Toxins were likely already building up in both limbs which meant once the pressure was gone, they’d be free to enter Tim’s bloodstream and possible shut down his organs.

“Tim, is your comm working?”

“Hmm?”

“Okay, I need to check your eyes so I’m going to take your mask off,” he warned. He dug around for the remover in one of Tim’s pouches and gently wiped at the mask to loosen the bond before carefully pulling it off, Tim hissing in pain. “Sorry.” The good news was that the cut had missed his eye, barely.

He wiped the blood away since it was likely uncomfortable. He got out his medical supplies and put a bandage over the wound. Pulling out the small penlight, glad it had survived.

“Bright light but I need to check for concussion.” He flashed the light in Tim’s eyes and he cried out, trying to shift away from the light. And yeah, a concussion at least given one pupil was fully dilated and the other down to a pinpoint.

He turned Tim’s head enough to get to his comm, making sure not to get electrocuted in doing so. He slipped it into his own ear. “O, Batman, anyone hear me?” he asked but still no signal. The fact that Oracle wasn’t answering suggested it was a comm issue and not because…no, they had to have made it out.

He lifted Tim’s head enough to slip his helmet on him, using the penlight for his own light. Tim didn’t need dust and whatever else was in the air in his lungs. He had no way to get Tim out, even if the Bats got to them, they would need specialised equipment to get Tim free… no other choice then.

He made sure to turn off the external sound input to the helmet since what he was about to do would not help Tim’s concussion. Tim’s free hand began scrabbling wildly at the floor, and Jason reached out to grab it, squeezing gently. So maybe cutting off his hearing in the dark without warning hadn’t been his smartest idea. He tapped slowly on the back of Tim’s hand, letting him know he was there and wasn’t leaving him. Given how confused the kid was, he was surprised that Tim wanted him there, that he wasn’t flashing back to the Tower.

“SUPERMAN! SUPERBOY!” He screamed even though it hurt his throat. “Red Robin’s trapped under concrete! We’re buried under a blown-up mall. He needs immediate medical help.”

Kon grinned as put the food out for the chickens and then he froze.

“SUPERMAN! SUPERBOY! Red Robin’s trapped under concrete! We’re buried under a blown-up mall. He needs immediate medical help.”

It was Hood, it could be a trap, but Tim had said they were closer these days. Tim didn’t think Jason would hurt him again, actually chose to partner with him at times. So Kon was airborne before he even finished speaking. He hit top speed easily, able to hear Clark ahead of him since Metropolis was closer than Smallville to Gotham.

Kon hit the ground, hard, staring at the mass of broken concrete, electrical, plumbing… and there! Buried under it all were two familiar figures. Tim…no, he was alive, they’d get him out.

“They’re alive,” Clark was reassuring the waiting bats.

“Tim…” Kon whispered, he didn’t like how Tim wasn’t moving.

“He’s alive,” Clark gripped his shoulder. “His heart is beating.”

“Not normally and his breathing…” Kon bit his lip, fighting back the panic. Panicking wouldn’t help Tim.

“We can’t rush in Superboy or we’ll bring it down on their heads,” Clark stated firmly and Conner nodded, he knew that, he did.

They went to work and he was relieved when Bart, Wally, Cassie, and then Diana joined them. Wally immediately left again, grabbing a massive medical kit and then simply began phasing through the rubble with Clark guiding him.

Jason looked up and then sagged in relief. “Wally.”

“Hey Jay, you hurt?”

“Bumps and bruises. Tim…Tim shoved me out of the way when the bomb went off.”

“Okay. We’ve got both Supers, both Wonders, and Bart helping up top to clear a path. They have to be careful though because this is really unstable. I brought the Alfred approved medical kit so we can work on getting Tim stabilised and ready for transport.”

“Got oxygen? I put my helmet on him because it has filters but they’re damaged. I checked for spinal damage and organ involvement but he seems clear there.”

“Clark and Conner didn’t mention it either so we’re probably good to go there. Let’s get him on oxygen and an IV in to start.”

And before Jason could move it was done. Wally set up an emergency lamp so they had more light to work with. Tim didn’t look any better in the stronger light, the kid whining slightly in protest, struggling to keep his eyes open.

“Sorry kiddo,” Wally murmured. He quickly added something to the IV, Jason was betting on a painkiller. Wally looked at the slab pinning Tim down, grimacing as he took it all in. “We’ll have to wait for someone with super strength to get here. Kon’d be best with his TTK.”

Jason nodded. “The head wound just missed his eye but he’s pretty badly concussed.”

“Not much we can do for that here.” He opened up an emergency blanket, settling the crinkly silver over Tim to help keep him warm. And then he tossed a bottle to Jason, an electrolyte drink. Tim could use the fluids but they couldn’t risk him choking or vomiting.

He cracked the lid and began to drink, knowing he needed the hydration too. “Wally…” he hesitated and Dick’s best friend looked over at him. “He…he said he can’t feel his arm and leg.”

“Not uncommon with crush injuries. It doesn’t mean it’s permanent.” The ‘yet’ went unsaid. The longer it took, the more chance there’d be no choice but to amputate to save Tim’s life.

Tim moaned softly, head shifting restlessly on Jason’s jacket.

“It’s okay Tim, you’re going to be okay,” Jason murmured. He took Tim’s hand, being careful not to nudge the IV. Tim’s fingers spasmed slightly and Jason squeezed gentle, relieved when Tim squeezed back. “That’s it, just try to relax.”

Glassy blue eyes opened, wandering between them, and Wally grinned at him.

“Hey little Red,” Wally said.

“Wallly?” Tim slurred.

“Yep,” Wally agreed.

“Da…d?”

“B’s up top Tim,” Jason murmured, reaching out to gently run his fingers through dust coated black hair. Why…why hadn’t he done more to fix things between them? Sure, they worked together when the team was needed, strangely enough Tim seemed to prefer working with him if Cass wasn’t around.

“You guys hear me?” Wally asked and then nodded. He slipped his comm out and into Tim’s ear. “There you go.”

Bruce heard the soft beep as the comm was reactivated. “Tim?” he called softly.

“D…ad,” his son’s voice was soft, slurred, breath hitching. None of it was a good sign.

“I’m here son,” he promised.

He couldn’t…he couldn’t listen to his son die. He watched as Kon-El used his powers to lift a massive section, using it to brace up other areas. Bart was rushing around, using debris to help stabilise sections. Diana and Cassie were working together to either pulverise or shift the debris, whichever was safer.

“You’re going to be alright Tim, we’re going to get you out and straight to the Watchtower,” he promised. “Listen to your brother and Wally. They’re going to look after you. Just…just stay awake, please.” He knew he was begging, but he couldn’t do anything else.

He wanted to be there, to hold Tim’s hand, but there was no way. He wished J’onn was on planet, he could get Bruce down there or bring Tim up but he was on a mission. Barry could do it, but Wally so far could only phase himself through objects.

Dick could hear Bruce basically begging Tim to hold on and it hurt; it hurt so much. Timmy…his baby bird… and Jason…it must be utter torture for him to be trapped down there. He couldn’t lose his little brother’s, he couldn’t. Wally was with them, he’ d look after them. He had extensive first aid training, it had to be enough, it had to be. Hearing Tim’s slurred speech as he tried to talk with B…wanting his Dad, delirious with a concussion… he swallowed back a scream as he forced himself to keep working.

Wally carefully locked the neck brace in place. It was precautionary but better to be safe than sorry, even if Jason had already moved him. Not that he blamed him when he explained the position Tim had been in before. He was terrified to have the kid’s life in his hands; he wasn’t a paramedic or doctor! Yes, he’d taken extra classes since he was often first on scene as one of the Flashes but…Tim needed a fully kitted out ER and soon.

Odds were…it was too late for his limbs already. That slab had to weigh at least a tonne and it was pressing down hard – the bones had to be crushed, at least the pressure would be acting as a torniquet and keeping him from bleeding out. How he’d managed to twist at the last second to save the rest of his body, Wally didn’t know.

He grabbed his backup comm and slipped it in. “Hate to rush you but we need to get him out.”

“We’re not even halfway,” Clark answered.

Wally swore. “He’s going into shock even with the IV, oxygen, and emergency blanket. And I’m worried there’s something more than a concussion going on.”

“Stay with me Timmy,” Jason whispered, petting Tim’s hair.

Bruce looked at Clark who nodded, confirming Wally’s words, Tim needed immediate medical attention. The Watchtower had been alerted, the emergency medical team standing by. They had the best surgeons possible but they couldn’t do anything until they could get Tim to them.

“Excuse, Mr Batman?” a voice called, and Bruce spun around to see a young man, about Tim’s age. He looked like he could be one of Bruce’s with black hair and bright blue eyes. But he was skinny, his clothing worn and torn…a street kid? “Is someone trapped sir?”

“You shouldn’t be here, it isn’t safe,” he told the kid, keeping his tone gentle. It wasn’t the boy’s fault his sons were trapped.

The boy looked at where the team were working away. “I…I can help,” he whispered nervously.

“Thank you, but this is too dangerous and the site is unstable.” He was not going to yell at a child who just wanted to help. It was amazing for a street child to be so altruistic but his accent didn’t sound native.

The boy chewed his bottom lip and then met his eyes before reaching out to touch some debris…and his hand passed through it. “I can get to whoever’s trapped and bring them out,” he stated.

Bruce knelt down so that he didn’t tower over the boy. He was shorter than Tim, maybe 5’6” but they looked to be around the same age. Just short or stunted growth from life on the streets? “Red Robin is very badly injured,” he admitted. “He’s pinned under a concrete slab; can you get him out from under that?”

The boy nodded. “Easily. Is there a backboard or neck brace or something for safety?”

“He has a neck brace on; they have a backboard with them. He also has an oxygen mask and IV. He has two limbs pinned under the slab.”

“So possible crush syndrome and shock,” the boy surprised him by saying, but Bruce nodded. “Okay, do you know exactly where they are?”

“Superman?” he called, and Clark flew over, offering the boy a smile, the kid’s eyes lighting up with wonder. “Can you take him to a spot where he can reach them from?”

“Of course,” Clark agreed, holding his hand out.

“Oh, it’s okay.” And the kid began to float. Was it possible he was a lost Martian? Density shifting and flight would suggest it.

Clark led the boy over to the right spot, close to where they were but with space so that he wouldn’t land on them. Trusting a stranger was risky but Tim couldn’t afford to wait. And the kid seemed genuine to him. His heartrate had remained steady, slow, but steady. With his looks, he could be a Kryptonian but density shifting wasn’t in their repertoire. A hybrid? Martian? Or just a Meta kid who couldn’t sit by and let a hero die? From the way Bruce reacted there might be a new Wayne in a few days.

“Go straight down here and you’ll be a few feet out from them. Be careful kid. The younger Flash and Red Hood are down there too, looking after Red Robin. They’ll help you get him situated for transport.”

The kid nodded and then sank down into the rubble.

“Incoming help,” Wally announced, and Jason looked up at him.

“A Martian?”

“A kid,” was the answer.

What? But then Jason stared as a pair of work sneakers appeared through the rubble, jean covered legs following. A teenager was soon standing near them, eyes wide as he looked at them. “Uh, hi?”

Jason snorted, glad he had his domino on. A glance at Tim showed Wally had managed to get his mostly back on. “You’re Red’s lift?”

“Yeah.” The kid took a deep breath and then approached, kneeling beside Tim, examining how he was pinned. “Okay, this’ll be easy enough. But it’s been long enough that if the limbs are suddenly released, it could kill him. Rhab…ugh…Rhabdomyolysis. Muscle death releasing toxins into his blood, if it reaches his organs, it’ll shut them down.”

“Yeah,” Wally agreed. “We’re going to have to use torniquets as close to the slab as possible.” Wally pulled two out and handed one to Jason who leant over Tim’s arm.

He hated to do it, but there was no other choice. “Can he have more painkillers first?” he asked Wally who frowned and moved to check the meds.

“We can risk a small dose,” he decided. He pulled out a syringe and added some of the contents rather than all of them to the IV line.

“They said you have a backboard?” the kid asked, and Wally nodded.

“Got something we can call you kid?”

“Uh…” he looked at them warily.

“It’s okay kid,” Jason nodded at him, understanding the reluctance. How long had it taken him to trust B back then?

They got the torniquets on and carefully lifted Tim onto the board, strapping him onto it. He groaned softly and Jason petted his hair again.

“Hey Red, got someone here who’s going to take you topside.” He motioned the kid closer. “See?”

Tim’s head shifted so he had his eyes open then. “’dption?” he mumbled, and Jason laughed softly.

“What?” the kid asked.

“Nothin’,” Jason smirked. “So how does this work? He might be small but he’s not exactly a lightweight with all that gear.”

“It’s no problem,” the teen promised. He knelt beside Tim and smiled gently at him. “Hi,” he murmured. “It’s going to be okay; I’m going to get you out. It’s going to feel weird, tingly and a little cold.”

Yeah…not the first time the kid had done something like this.

He gripped the side of the board with one hand and then stood up, lifting the board and Tim with it. All of it took on a washed out look and then they floated up.

“I’ll stay with you,” Wally promised, and Jason bit back a response. It was nice of him to do that; he was probably doing it for Dick.

Clark watched as the kid reappeared and there was Tim, strapped to the board. He went to approach but Kon got there first.

“I’ve got him,” Kon told the kid. “Thank you.” And then Kon took off with Tim for the Watchtower.

“I’ll grab the others,” the kid said before sinking back down. He soon returned with Jason, Wally making his own way back up.

“Thanks,” Jason said, ruffling the black hair, and they could all see the way the kid tensed before he hesitantly leant into the touch.

Yeah, there was definitely going to be a new Wayne soon.

Kon was relieved to find the medical team waiting as he stepped onto the Watchtower. He placed Tim down on the gurney and they quickly unstrapped him from the backboard, Kon helping to slide it out from under him without jostling him.

“What happened?” a doctor asked as they rushed towards the surgical room.

“Bomb brought down the building, he pushed Hood out of the way. Red was trapped by a concrete slab for around forty minutes. Intravenous morphine was given for the pain but he said he couldn’t feel the limbs. There’s a head injury and uneven pupils. His speech has been slurred and he’s had trouble remaining conscious.” Kon rattled off everything he’d heard and seen. “The bones in both limbs are…are crushed from just below the torniquets. Those were placed just before he was moved.”

And then all he could do was watch as Tim was wheeled into the room, sliding down the wall to sit, not willing to leave. He had to survive; he had to. He couldn’t lose him, not now. Not when things were finally good. No one else knew, they hadn’t told anyone yet.

As much as he wanted to go to his son, he waited until Jason emerged from the rubble, minus his helmet. He was covered in dust, hair plastered down with sweat, but he was on his feet and moving.

“Hood,” he called.

“Hey old man.” Jason’s voice was a little scratchy from breathing dust but he didn’t sound like he was in pain. “Just some bumps and bruises. Red…Red saw it coming, pushed me down.”

Bruce nodded. Oh Tim. But of course, he had reacted to save Jason…Jason who had died once due to a bomb. He still moved in to check Jason himself, the boy fidgeting nervously, trying to shift away. Bruce was relieved to see that Jason was telling the truth and then he turned to the boy, reaching out slowly to put his hand on a too thin shoulder.

“Thank you for saving Red Robin.”

Blue eyes blinked up at him as if the kid was surprised to be thanked. “I just…”

“You saved my son,” Bruce murmured. “No matter what happens now, you gave him a chance to live that we couldn’t.” Once again he knelt in front of the teen. How scared must he have been revealing his powers to them? Bruce knew what people said, that Batman hated Metas, despite Signal being one.

He wanted to leave immediately, to ensure with his own eyes that Tim was alive. But this child had risked a lot to help them. He looked like he could use a hot shower, many meals, sleep, and some new clothing.

He glanced up at Jason who nodded. “Red Hood will take you to a safe house and make sure you have a good meal, a hot shower, sleep, anything you need.”

“No…” the boy shook his head, eyes wide.

“It’s okay kid, no one will hurt you,” Jason promised. “You helped my little brother and me, let me do something nice for you, okay?”

The boy looked between them, obviously unsure which was interesting, most street kids trusted Hood. But finally, he nodded.

Dick was torn, he wanted to go up with Bruce, to see Tim but a look around and he knew he had to stay. Steph was about to collapse; Damian looked more on edge than he’d seen in a while and now Jason was going to be looking after the Meta kid who saved Timmy. Someone had to stay steady and keep the kids together. Babs would need to call Cass, fill her in.

And then Cassie and Bart moved in to support Steph and surprisingly Damian. They hadn’t exactly warmed to Dami given how antagonistic he’d been to Tim. Things had gotten better since Bruce’s return four months ago. The boys still didn’t really partner up but the fighting had dropped off…and he couldn’t help wondering if it was because Tim chose to partner with Cass or Jason when possible and because he didn’t live at the Manor.

He felt a familiar hand grip his shoulder, letting himself sag against Clark for a moment.

“Diana and I will stay to help the clean up until it’s stable enough for the authorities to deal with,” he offered, and Dick nodded. “He’s strong Dick, a fighter.”

He nodded again. He knew that, Tim didn’t know how to quit really.

“See to your family Dick, we’ve got this,” Clark murmured.

Jason wanted to get to the safehouse and get out of his gear, Tim’s blood on his gloves. He looked down at the too small teen and managed a smile for him. “Let’s get cleaned up, okay?”

“You don’t have to,” he whispered.

“I know, but I want to. Come on.” He led the kid away, getting him on his bike and heading for the safehouse.

Looking after the boy would help keep his mind off Tim…if only Tim hadn’t pushed him out of the way. But Tim always put everyone else first.

Bruce rushed to the medical bay, everyone getting out of his way. He slowed as he saw Kon slumped on the floor, no…

Teary blue eyes met his and the teen tried to smile for him. “They’re still working on him. A nurse said it’ll be hours yet.”

Bruce nodded, relieved to have even a basic update. He offered the young Kryptonian a hand, hauling him to his feet and over to the chairs. “The surgeons here are the best and Tim is a fighter.”

“With no spleen to help fight the toxins that will flood his body if they remove the tourniquets,” Kon whispered.

“Did you look?” Bruce asked softly. He had only seen Tim strapped to the board for a few seconds but what he’d seen hadn’t looked good.

“His organs looked fine,” Kon told him first which was a relief. “But…his arm, hand, leg, foot…the bones are all crushed. I…I don’t think they can fix it,” he choked out, shaking.

Bruce wrapped an arm around him, his cape settling around them both. “They will do everything they can.” But they both knew that the odds were good that Tim would come out of this a double amputee.

They all knew the risks of what they did and Tim had acted to save his brother. Tim always acted to save others first, like his life mattered less. Bruce knew he was to blame for some of that but not all of it, Tim had come to him like that.

He didn’t care if Tim was a double amputee so long as his son lived. They could help Tim adapt to any physical limitations and prosthetics had come a long way over the years. It might be a good project for Tim to work on his own, might help him accept what had happened to him.

“There’s a head wound too, Tim was really slurring, struggling to stay awake, what if…”

“Don’t Kon, don’t consider that.” It was all too easy to think of the worst outcomes. Death was the worst but brain damage was close. It could change a person completely after all…losing Tim to death or damage was a terrifying thought. To have his son with them in body but have him be impaired or mentally so changed he was like a different person…

Eventually Clark joined them, then Cassie and Bart. Finally, his own children began to trail in, gathering close, even Damian. Only Jason and Duke were missing.

“Agent A called Black Bat, she’s wrapping up her mission ASAP,” Dick murmured. Hood has the kid at the safehouse, he accepted the shower but had to be encouraged to eat and sleep.”

Bruce nodded in thanks at the information. Cassandra would not take Tim’s injuries well, he just hoped she didn’t blame herself for not being there or get hurt in rushing to reach Tim’s side.

After a while, Damian slipped away and returned with a tray of coffees and biscuits. He smiled at his youngest and accepted the warm drink and food, knowing they all needed it.

“Thanks baby bat,” Dick offered when he took his.

When the doors to the surgical room opened hours later, Steph and Damian were sleeping against Dick, Kon having drifted off against Bruce but he woke quickly with the noise.

The surgeon paused at seeing them all and then looked at Bruce. “Batman.”

“Is he?” he demanded.

“Too unstable to continue the surgery,” the surgeon quickly confirmed. “We’re keeping him sedated to let his body rest and heal. I am sorry sir; we attempted to save his limbs but the damage was too severe and the toxins were too much for his body to handle. To save his life we were forced to amputate his right arm just below the shoulder and his leg just under the knee. Technically, most of the knee is gone but there is enough that we can put in a replacement which can then be used to attach to a prosthetic, it will make movement like bending the leg easier.”

Bruce closed his eyes, hearing Steph sob. He had lost both limbs. Tim…

“We ran a full body scan – he has three cracked ribs; the rest are bruised. No spinal involvement. He has an orbital rim bone fracture under the laceration on his face. The eyeball itself shows no signs of damage but there is a lot swelling in the area. His temporal bone appears bruised but thankfully wasn’t fractured as well. The cut was deep but it’s been cleaned and closed, it will scar though. There is some swelling in his brain due to the concussion which is another reason we have him in sedated. You all take enough hits to the head that a bad concussion like this is more dangerous. We’ll monitor brain activity and the swelling but there’s no bleeding. It should settle with time.”

That was a relief, it was bad enough that he would wake to such massive physical changes but if he’d had brain damage as well?

“He’ll need further surgeries on the amputations, we only did the basics to preserve his life and as much of the limbs as possible. We also want to give his body a chance to rest. Due to the toxins, we did a round of dialysis to take the pressure off his kidneys but hopefully he won’t need another round. He’s also had a blood transfusion. Once he’s settled, you can take turns sitting with him for a few minutes. If he’s stable enough tomorrow then we’ll take him back in but that will depend on his labs.”

“Thank you,” Clark spoke for them.

“Oh Timmy,” Dick whispered.

“He’s alive Dick,” Bruce said, keeping the tremor from his own voice.

Almost an hour later, Bruce finally walked into the room to see his son lying pale and broken on the bed, hooked up to too many machines. He staggered to the chair and then carefully took Tim’s hand in his.

“Tim…I’m here son,” he whispered.

Emancipated or not, Tim would always be his son. He would come home to the Manor once released, there was no way he’d be able to live independently, not for some time. Once he had prosthetics and was able to use them easily, then sure. Barbara lived alone after all so it would be possible with some work on his apartment first.

It was hard to look at him, to see the places where his missing limbs should be under the blankets, to see the tubes and wires. Both eyes were becoming black, some of his hair shaved away from the facial wound, which was covered by a bandage, hiding the stitches below.

“You’re going to be alright,” he promised.

Dick held Tim’s hand, unable to look up at him and see… he pressed his forehead to the limp hand. Tim’s skin was cool so he moved to tug another blanket up. Even after Jason’s death it was like they lived a charmed life, sure there were injuries but nothing they didn’t heal from. Except Babs hadn’t healed and neither would Tim, he couldn’t grow new limbs. But as medicine advance it was possible that one day her spine could be fixed. Sometimes it was just…easier to not see it, it wasn’t like the chair slowed her down. But Tim couldn’t even use a wheelchair, not with one arm totally gone. An electric one?

“We’re all here for you baby bird, you just focus on getting better.”

Damian stared at Timothy; this was not the ending someone who had earned his Grandfather’s respect should face. Yes, he was expected to live but what kind of life would it be compared to the one he knew?

He wasn’t sure he’d want to live with such injuries, would Timothy? He had lost his spleen to save Father and now two limbs to save Todd, what more could he give? Why? Why did he do it?

Steph stared at Tim, taking in the pale skin and black eyes, not daring to look lower. “Damn it Tim, why?” She took his hand in her. “You self-sacrificing idiot…well…now we’re going to look after you,” she promised.

She leant in and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. Sometimes, she missed the old days, when they were together, but too much had happened since then. “Happy Birthday Tim.”

His next surgery was scheduled for the morning; they were going to tidy up his arm and put in the knee replacement. It was probably for the best that he’d been kept asleep so he wouldn’t have to see them till they were healing properly. Was it good or bad that the drainage tubes kept sucking out blood from the wounds?

Cassie stared at Tim as he lay in the bed. if only they could have gotten to him quicker…maybe his limbs could have been saved…maybe. If not for that kid who showed up, Tim might be dead.

“Stay strong Tim,” she whispered and then stepped back as the nurses entered to prep him for surgery.

She sat next to Kon, leaning against him, Bart on his other side. And then Bruce arrived, nodding to them. He had left during the night to begin making arrangements to ensure Tim’s id was safe. No one had seen the boy pull Tim from the rubble so Red Robin was being declared dead. And a skiing vacation was being backdated for Tim Drake where he would go off the edge of a cliff. The fall and cold would explain the amputations well enough.

Tim wouldn’t like them making the cover stories without him or killing off Red Robin without his permission but he’d understand. It was best to move quickly to protect Tim and the Waynes.

Jason stood at the stove, unable to stop thinking about Tim. He was going back into surgery today. Red Robin had been declared dead last night in the mall explosion to the police so it wouldn’t take long for the word to spread. M’gann was helping post some photos on social media of Tim on the ski slopes, in a few days his ‘accident’ would be announced.

He’d managed a brief visit while the kid was finally sleeping, Alfred taking his place in the safehouse for the time. Seeing Tim like that…it should be him in that bed, not Tim. If Jason had had time to grab Tim when he pushed him out of the way then they would have skidded together, both been in the clear zone. But he couldn’t change the past. Whatever Tim needed going forward, he would make sure it happened. He hadn’t been the bother Timmy needed before but he would now, and not just because he’d saved Jason.

As the smell of bacon began to spread, he heard soft movement in the bedroom, his roommate waking. The kid still hadn’t given him a name, real or fake, and was very skittish, more so than most street kids. And yet he had stepped forward to save Tim.

The kid emerged and Jason smiled at him, motioning to the table. He looked better after three days of solid meals, clean clothes, and a safe place to sleep. Could use a haircut to neaten the mop up though.

“You’re worried,” the boy whispered.

Outside of the Bats and Justice League, he was the only one who knew Red was alive. Jason couldn’t do it to him, couldn’t make him think his help had failed. The kid was skittish enough and he obviously needed help.

“Red’s going in for more surgery today, they could only take life saving measures the first day, had to wait for him to stabilise.”

The boy nodded. “I hope it goes okay.”

“Me too kiddo,” he reached over to ruffle now soft black hair.

“Did…did they save his arm and leg?”

Jason winced and set the plates on the table, taking his seat, the kid sitting opposite him, watching. He took a slow breath and shook his head. “He lost his arm just under the shoulder and his leg basically at the knee. The damage from the slab was too severe, it crushed the bones and everything else. There was nothing anyone could do without time travelling to stop the explosion.” He didn’t want the kid to think it was his fault for not being fast enough.

“Today’s surgery is to fix up the amputation wounds so they heal nicely for eventual prosthetics…and with you knowing, it means you’ll be able to work out his civilian id. To the rest of the world, Red Robin died in the bombing.”

Blue eyes went wide. “Why?”

“Because you saved him when you didn’t have to do anything.” Jason made the choice and reached up, removing his domino, chuckling when kid slammed his eyes shut. “It’s okay kiddo, you can look.”

Hesitantly, he opened his eyes, meeting Jason’s.

“Hey there, I’m Jason.”

The kid swallowed, staring at him in shock, chewing at his bottom lip. “I…uh…” he took a deep breath. “Danny,” he whispered.

“Danny,” Jason smiled at him.

He felt fuzzy, heavy…strange…cold…and his nose itched. He tried to lift his hand to scratch it, whinging in annoyance.

“Tim?”

Tim? Right…he was Tim…the voice was familiar?

“You waking up Rob?”

Rob…Kon? Ever so slowly he dragged heavy eyelids open, blinking up at a hazy white ceiling. Drugs…he was drugged. Why?

“Welcome back.” There was Kon. He looked terrible.

Tim tried to speak but only managed a soft wheeze.

“Here, ice chips.” A spoon was pressed to his lips and Tim managed to pry them apart, sucking at them, desperate for the moisture.

“H…p’d?”

“You were very badly hurt in an explosion. It’s been a week. We’ve all been rotating in and out on Timmy watch,” he was obviously trying to tease.

“It…”

“It what?” Kon asked and Tim huffed in frustration, crinkling his nose. “Oh, itchy?” he asked and Tim managed a heavy nod. Kon reached over and scratched it for him. “Better?”

“Hmmm….” He was so tired.

“Get some sleep Tim, someone will be here when you wake,” Kon promised, and Tim felt the ghost of a kiss.

“Master Bruce?” Alfred asked as he saw him slump.

“That was Kon, Tim woke up briefly. He was able to follow what Kon was saying but didn’t stay awake very long.”

Alfred closed his eyes, utterly relieved. Until he woke, there was no guarantee that he would have given his head injury. And he recognised Kon-El which was also a good sign.

“Preparations for his return home are well in hand. The bedroom across from Miss Barbara’s was the easiest since alterations had already been made to the area for her accommodations. Should I be looking at the purchase of an electric wheelchair, Master Bruce?”

“Not yet,” he decided, surprising Alfred. “If it’s here, he’ll push himself too soon. And he should get to choose the model and colours.”

“Of course, sir,” he agreed. The reasoning was good at least.  

He returned upstairs, unpacking a box that Master Duke had retrieved from Master Tim’s apartment. While it would be good to have him home, Alfred hated the reason. He had managed to slip up to the Watchtower to see the boy and he felt sick when he saw his grandson looking so small in the bed. He would do whatever had to be done to help the boy heal and adjust.

Alfred unpacked the clothing; it would all need altering so that the now empty sleeve and too long pant leg would not get in the way. But that was something he could easily do. For now, pyjamas and sweatpants would be all that were needed, comfortable clothing for recovery.

The room had been painted how Master Tim preferred, comforts from his apartment and old room upstairs moved in. The bathroom renovation was almost complete; the bathtub removed for a much larger shower cubicle. Grab bars were being places strategically throughout the room to help as well and a medical alert system set up should anything like a fall happen. It would all be done by the time he was ready to come home. Similar renovations would also be done to his apartment for the day he chose to move back.

He leant forward, seeing Tim’s eyelids flutter slightly, his fingers curling in the sheet. “Tim?” he called softly.

Bruce watched as hazy blue eyes slowly opened, he was still on very heavy painkillers so would likely be a little altered. Gradually, his eyes focused on Bruce, lips moving silently and Bruce smiled. He reached out to gently run his fingers through Tim’s hair.

“Want some ice chips?” he asked, and Tim hummed softly in response. He put some on the spoon and gently lifted Tim’s head so he could suck on them without risking choking.

“B,” Tim murmured, voice scratchy from when he’d been intubated.

“Are you in pain?” he asked, and Tim shook his head sleepily, lips pulling up slightly.

“Fl…oaty…”

“That’s the pain meds,” he agreed with a chuckle. He hated to think how much pain Tim would be in without them or once they began bringing down the dosage.

“Hap’d?”

“Don’t worry about that now, Tim.” He watched his eyelids droop as Bruce continued petting his hair.

Tim yawned, relaxing deeper into the bed. “Wa…”

“Just sleep sweetheart.”

“Arm…we’rd…”

Bruce swallowed, glad Tim was too out of it to realise why that was. He watched as Tim drifted back to sleep. Seeing him awake for himself was a big relief. And now, it was time to meet up with Jason and the boy.

The physiotherapist passed him on his way out. Even with Tim sleeping all of the time, the limbs needed tending, things he would learn to do once awake.

Jason hovered but at a distance as Bruce spoke with Danny, watching the kids body language. With his powers, he could bolt in a second and they wouldn’t be able to stop him. He liked Danny, the kid was coming out of his shell a bit too now. But with Batman in the apartment, he was pulling back again

Jason walked over, putting his hand on Danny’s shoulder, his domino missing.

“Hood?”

“I told him my name. He’ll be able to put the pieces together when Red comes home and is seen in public, those injuries are pretty distinctive.”

Bruce frowned and looked at Danny who flinched back slightly.

“I won’t tell,” he promised slightly. “I’d never.”

He looked at Jason who nodded. He was the one looking after Danny, bonding with him, he trusted the kid to not tell.

So Bruce reached up and removed the cowl, both of them seeing the confusion and then dawning recognition.

“Oh,” Danny whispered.

“You saved my son Danny and for that I will be forever grateful,” Bruce told him. “And I would like to ask you something very important.”

“Yes sir?”

“Would you like to come and live with our family?”

Danny’s eyes went wide, his skin pale even as he looked between them, bewildered and shocked. “I…I can’t…it’s not…I…”

“Danny, despite what people say, B’s not against Meta’s. Signal’s one after all, he’s the newest Wayne.”

“But I’m not a Meta.”

Tim stared up at the ceiling. Medical…the Watchtower. He had very hazy memories of Kon and…Bruce? What had happened? Thinking was more difficult than normal; he could recognise painkillers. Slowly, he shifted and then frowned, something…something was wrong, weird. He looked down and just stared. That was…it was, and then he was throwing up.

“Tim!” Warm hands grabbing him, supporting him. “Easy, it’s okay, you’re okay.” Dick, that was Dick. 

Tim choked and gagged but it finally stopped and then a nurse was there, helping Dick clean him up even as Tim sobbed. He couldn’t help it.

“Oh Timmy.” And then Dick was on the bed with him, Tim tucked into his lap, the older man being very careful with him. “You’re going to be okay, you will.”

How…he…his arm…and then he looked again and realised it wasn’t just his arm.

“Shh, don’t look baby bird.” Dick was rocking him, whispering soft words, petting his hair, and slowly, Tim drifted away.

Dick looked down to find Tim had fallen asleep in his arms. He felt so light now, like a breeze could carry him away. How much mass did an arm and a leg contribute? He kissed Tim’s forehead, he felt a little clammy from the throwing up and panic attack, hopefully just that since they were monitoring hom closely for any sign of infection. Not that Dick blamed him. Why did he have to wake up and be aware enough to realise when Dick had stepped out for two seconds to use the bathroom?

His reaction to seeing the missing limbs could have been worse, but they’d have to wait and see how he dealt with it going forward. Dick was going to insist on therapy, hopefully Dinah would have a suggestion of someone who could be trusted with the truth. They could all use it really, none of them were dealing well with Tim’s injuries. Jason at least had the kid to focus on most of the time. And Bruce was of course working on taking custody of the boy. He was so skittish, hopefully he’d tell them his name soon.

Dick shakily skimmed his fingers over the bandages covering what little was left of his baby brother’s arm. If he’d woken up to find himself missing a limb, he’d be sick too. And now the kid had realised he’d lost two. If it was only the leg things would be easier, prosthetics for legs were a lot simpler. But to replace a hand? Victor wasn’t a good example there given where his cybernetic parts came from but he was already working on helping create the best possible prosthetics for Tim. They could be excused by the Wayne name and money easily enough after all.

Dick looked up as the door opening and Bruce walked in.

“Dick?”

“He woke up…really woke up, saw the missing arm and started being sick. Cried himself to sleep,” he explained softly.

Bruce walked over, gently brushing a hand over Tim’s hair. “Not a surprising reaction,” he murmured, and Dick nodded. “They’ve lowered his pain meds which is probably why he finally noticed.”

When Bruce seemed hesitant to move away, Dick very carefully transferred Tim to his arms. It was his turn to sit with him anyway.

“You saw Jason?”

Bruce nodded. “The boy’s name is Danny and he knows mine and Jason’s identities. Jason had already told him his. He will be moving to the Manor once he’s comfortable enough with us, so you should call Jason and arrange a visit.”

Dick nodded. “I’ll talk to Dami too, make sure he’ll be nice to the kid…Danny.” He brushed a kiss over Tim’s forehead and then left.

TBC…

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: not mine

Chapter 2

Bruce felt Tim beginning to stir and shifted his hold on his son slightly to ensure that if he started, he wouldn’t hurt himself. He hummed softly under his breath to let Tim know he was there, and slowly Tim’s eyes flickered open, still red-rimmed from his earlier crying.

“B?” he croaked.

Bruce grabbed the nearby cup and held the straw to Tim’s lips for him. “Are you in pain?” he asked, and Tim had to take a moment to think about it before shaking his head. The last dose had been administered while he was sleeping and Bruce was glad that they were working well.

“Wha’s…” Tim grimaced, trying to move, and Bruce moved a hand to gently support him. Tim tensed, starting to shake.

“Breathe with me Tim,” he told him, taking slow, exaggerated breaths.

Tim whimpered, terrified blue eyes locking on his. “D…da…dad?”

“I’m here sweetheart,” he promised, cupping Tim’s face in one hand. “You’re not alone.

“Wha…what…”

“Do you remember the abandoned mall and the Riddler’s bombs?” he asked gently. He needed to know what Tim remembered before telling him anything. They hadn’t found the Riddler yet but with Red Robin announced as dead, the man had likely gone deep into hiding. He would remember Batman’s rampage after the second Robin’s death and now there were even more bats who would be looking for revenge. The public was on their side too, posts going up as people watched for his goons.

Tim frowned, considering, before slowly nodding. It was obvious the pain killers were working since there was a slight glaze to his eyes but he was alert enough. Then his eyes widened. “Hood?”

“You saved him, he’s fine. He had some scrapes and bruises but that was all.”

Tim relaxed at that, obviously still trying to remember. “Buried?...Wally?”

“You and Jason were trapped under the rubble. Your comms were damaged so Jason yelled for Clark and Kon who told us you were both alive. Diana, Cassie, and Bart also came and we began working to dig you out while Wally retrieved Alfred’s preferred emergency kit to look after you. But the site was very unstable and work was slow, too slow.”

Tim shivered and Bruce dragged the blanket over him, tucking him in closer, covering the evidence of how his life had been forever changed while being careful of the wound drains and IV’s. Thankfully, with Tim now awake, they were hoping to switch him to mostly oral medication soon. He hadn’t shown any signs of infection which had been a very big worry given his lack of spleen so they felt safe taking him off the stronger IV version.

“You were pinned under a concrete slab Tim. Wally and Jason couldn’t move it to get you out.” Wally could have dealt with it under normal circumstances but with the unstable nature of the rubble and the lack of space, it had been too dangerous for him to try and Wally didn’t have the hang of phasing others through objects with him.

“You lost a lot of blood and had a head wound, it missed your eye but you have an orbital break and it will leave a scar. I’m so sorry Tim but…your arm and leg were pinned for too long. The bones were crushed, the nerves, muscles, arteries…” Bruce swallowed, and Tim looked away. “The surgeons tried but the release of toxins nearly killed you, they had to amputate to save your life. There was enough of your knee left that they’ve put in a replacement like anyone else would receive which will make bending your leg easier.”

“I…I…” Tim’s breathing was speeding up again.

“Shh,” Bruce rubbed his back, trying to soothe him. “Victor’s already begun helping design prosthetics for you, the best possible. Alfred’s fixing up a room in the Manor across from Babs and don’t argue Tim. You will need help until you adjust. Leslie has been informed so she can help once you’re home. You’re not alone Tim; we will all be here to help you.”

Tim sobbed, burying his face against Bruce’s neck.

He didn’t tell Tim about his new little brother and how Danny had saved him. He wasn’t ready for more information; he had enough to deal with right now. He also didn’t mention the birthday that Tim had slept through.

For a few blissful moments when he woke, he forgot his new reality but then it crashed back in when he went to rub his eyes only for nothing to happen. He took a shaky breath and lifted his left hand to do it.

“Hey,” a familiar voice called softly, and Tim turned his head to see Kon in the chair beside the bed.

“You…look terrible,” he croaked.

Kon snorted but grabbed the cup beside the bed, supporting Tim so he could drink. “Well, I haven’t been sleeping well lately,” he admitted.

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault Rob.” Kon took his hand and Tim tangled their fingers together.

“I…I’m scared,” he whispered.

“I know.” Kon’s TTK gently pressed along his body and Tim relaxed into the familiarity, warm lips brushing his.

“Don’t,” Tim started, but then Kon’s finger was on his lips.

“Don’t even think about it Tim,” he warned. “This doesn’t change anything. You are still the same person I’ve been in love with forever.”

Tim closed his eyes, he wasn’t going to cry again, he wasn’t.

“I don’t care if you can’t be a vigilante any more or if you find a way to keep going in a cape. If you’re in a wheelchair or fully able. I care about you, Tim. I am not leaving you.”

“Kon…” Tim wanted to reach up to him but his only remaining hand was still held in Kon’s. But he understood, leaning down to pull Tim up. He lifted him into his lap and Tim hesitantly kissed him, Kon showing no hesitation in returning the kiss, a hand sliding up Tim’s back to support him.

“I’m here Tim, I won’t leave you,” he promised, and Tim really wanted to believe him, he did. But it would take time. He knew the statistics about relationships, especially new ones, and major life altering injuries.

Kon sat very carefully on the bed, making sure he didn’t dislodge any of Tim’s wires or drains. He settled Tim against his side; Tim’s left pressed against him. Usually it was the other way, because Tim trusted Kon to be on his dominant side but now…now he would have to learn to use his left for everything. He was already sort of ambidextrous but not fully so it would take time to adjust. He wasn’t looking forward to it.

“Happy Birthday,” Kon whispered, kissing him softly.

Tim frowned in confusion.

“You were sedated and being taken for your second surgery on the day,” Kon clarified.

“Oh.” He was eighteen…they’d had plans.

“It’s okay,” Kon promised. “We can reschedule for once you’re better.”

Tim nodded. When he was better…he’d never be better…never have his limbs back, be who he was before. How could Kon stand to touch him now? Tim couldn’t even bear to look let alone try to touch what was left.

Cassie slipped away, a sad smile on her lips. She’d known something had caused Kon to end things and now she knew what. She was happy for them and Tim could use all the support he could get, especially now. Her relationship with Kon had ended before he even died, even if only by weeks. Kon and Tim had always been so close, their relationship different to those the rest of them had, she should have seen this coming.

At least Tim was awake and fully aware of what was going on now. She’d come back later to see him.

Alfred opened the door and smiled at Jason before his gaze drifted to the child tucked into his side, mostly hidden by an oversized hoodie. “Welcome home Master Jason. And this must be Master Danny, welcome to Wayne Manor.”

The boy glanced up at him, wary, and Alfred made sure his body language was open, welcoming and relaxed.

“Please come inside. A room has been prepared for you in the family wing, beside Master Jason’s.” It had made sense given that he was the only one young Danny actually knew.

It took Jason gently guiding him to get the teen inside and up to the family wing, the poor child freezing in the doorway of his new bedroom, eyes wide in shock. It was a look he recognised from the young man standing beside the new Master. He clutched a ratty backpack to his chest as he took in the room. Alfred had only done the basics for decorating as he did not know his preferences but he had added a few touches to make the room less impersonal.

“Mine?” Master Danny whispered.

“Yeah Danny, this is all yours. And we can decorate it however you want,” Jason promised, his understanding obvious to Alfred.

There was still a lot of work to be done between settling in a new grandson and preparing for the eventual return of another. And Miss Cass was finally on her way home as well.

Sitting up in bed felt so strange, he kept having to shift his weight, feeling like he was falling to the side. He’d lost how much of his body mass? They said he’d adjust with time but it felt so strange. He hated it! His head still felt a little fuzzy and he’d seen the nasty wound on his face the last bandage change because he’d insisted. Between the orbital break and the bruised temporal bone, the doctors said the fuzziness was to be expected for a few weeks.

He'd finally been awake when the physiotherapist had visited and now he was exhausted but he didn’t want to sleep again. Exercising the remnant of his leg wasn’t too bad, though the knee felt weird when he moved it. But the arm…there was barely anything left which meant he was more exercising the shoulder than his non-existent arm. He understood why they were making him do the exercises, he couldn’t afford to lose muscle tone and they would heal better if he kept moving.

He still couldn’t look at the stumps, even wrapped. Though the compression bandages felt better than what he’d originally woken with. He’d hopefully be getting his stitches out soon and then they’d expect him to touch…it made him feel sick.

He looked up as the door opened. Nope, he wasn’t going to cry again, he wasn’t.

“Little brother,” she whispered.

“Cass…”

She moved to his side, taking his hand, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Missed you,” he told her.

“Sorry, so sorry, wasn’t there,” she choked out, tears in her eyes.       

“You couldn’t have changed anything, Cass,” he assured her. He didn’t want her to blame herself. And he would never want her in this bed in his place. He patted the mattress and she climbed up with him, being very careful of his…stumps. “Love you,” he whispered.

“Love you, Timmy.”

Bruce sighed and massaged his temples, head aching. Selina was due back in a few hours and he was happy about that. Hopefully she wouldn’t be upset about the newest soon-to-be Wayne. She was going to be angry that she’d missed so much time with Tim but she had been out of contact. He had left her a message after Tim was taken to the Watchtower but she had only gotten it yesterday, the same day the news reported on CEO Timothy Drake-Wayne’s skiing accident.

Tim had always been Selina’s favourite, probably because he didn’t care about her activities as long as no one got hurt. Jason had no issues with her work either, he just wasn’t really a cat person. Tim however would sit and work on his laptop while being used as a jungle gym and remain still to let them play. Nygma would be better off in prison before she returned but he was doing a good job of hiding. Damian had taken time to get closer to her, despite his love for animals and cat Alfred, because of the way he had treated Tim and spoken to her. But things were improving between them, between Damian and everyone thankfully.

‘Leaked’ photos of Tim strapped to a backboard being airlifted out of the mountains, curtesy of M’gann, had circulated in the press. And once that happened, Bruce had stepped forward to make a statement. It had been over a week since Jim Gordon was informed of Red Robin’s death in the bombing, saving Red Hood. Hopefully there was enough time and space between the two events that they wouldn’t be connected.

If he could have, he would have waited longer, but then Tim’s recovery would be too quick and raise suspicion that way. Thankfully, the Watchtower medical room could be mistaken for a private hospital room and so they had taken an updated photo for the press, only from the neck up. While his injuries had been reported, they had no need to see the result.

The last time he’d seen Tim, his son had asked if they’d killed off Red Robin. He’d seen the pain in Tim’s eyes that he had tried to hide as he asked but they all knew that Red had to die. Tim had agreed with Bruce using the bomb to kill him off. Finding out he’d been injured skiing had gotten a huff, Tim didn’t even like skiing after all but the sport made a good cover.

Thinking about Tim was a good distraction from Danny and the information his newest son had revealed about the injustices the Justice League had missed. But not anymore. Many of the League members who cared for Tim were glad to have something to focus their energy on as there wasn’t much that they could do for him while he was recovering in medical. He didn’t understand how they could have missed everything happening in Amity Park. But they knew now and they would fix it.

And once he started looking into the city and the events there, it had been easy to find out Danny’s identity. Daniel Fenton…Danny Phantom. So much for hoping one child would remain a civilian. Not that Danny was his legally, not yet. Then again, he might wish to stick to only ghostly issues and stay out of human crime. If Tim was further along in his recovery, this kind of investigation would have been a good way to help keep his mind off things, but the doctors wanted him to wait at least another week before he started using screens, just to ensure everything was healing since he was still getting headaches.

Danny was so wary of them all but he couldn’t blame the kid. He was a year younger than Tim but so much smaller. And knowing of his death at fourteen, Bruce wondered how much it had affected his growth. Once more trust was built, he hoped that Danny would agree to a checkup by the Watchtower staff since they were used to the oddities that Meta’s could throw up in exams. A halfa…half living and half dead…and when Danny had admitted that, Bruce had thought he was going to have to tackle Jason to keep him from rushing off to Amity Park to do something very violent. But no, when Danny had made a soft noise of distress, Jason had calmed and immediately comforted him. There was a bond there, because they had both died? Danny’s eyes went green when he’d shown them a bit more, without fully transforming, like Jason’s though a different shade.

Adopting him officially was provin proven easier than he’d thought it would once he found out that Danny’s parents were alive…the Doctor’s Fenton had declared their son dead over a year ago. Barbara was working on the paperwork to give Danny a new identity that could be used to put through the adoption. He’d been worried there would be a court case, a battle, but with Danny Fenton dead, Danny Nightingale was up for adoption. Danny had chosen the name and was considering whether he wanted to hyphenate, keep it, or change again to Wayne. Danny would be given a totally fresh start once they were done. Danny would be seventeen in four months; he’d been on the run since shortly after his fifteenth birthday when his parents learnt his secret and reacted violently. Once the Justice League dealt with everything, Bruce would see about getting him into contact with his sister and friends if he wanted to.

Tim had spent his eighteenth birthday under sedation, the public thought he’d been on the slopes that day while avoiding the press. Both boys would be given better birthdays for their next ones, he would make sure of it.

Jason sat beside Tim as his arm was carefully unwrapped, seeing the line of black stitches, the still bruised skin… he felt sick but he didn’t let himself show it. Tim would get nothing but support from him…even if the kid broke his hand, he was definitely getting his strength back!

The doctor checked the wound over before nodding and then went to work removing the stitches. Tim had turned his head away and Jason met his eyes, giving Tim something to focus on.

Once the arm was done, they moved to his leg.

“Bend your knee for me please.”

Tim grimaced but did as they asked. Even with the physio he’d been doing, it was obvious Tim didn’t like doing it, that it wasn’t comfortable.

“Good. No seepage and the skin has sealed well. The physiotherapist will teach you how to massage the stumps and keep the skin moisturised and clean now that the stitches have been removed. Your skin will likely be hypersensitive but that will lessen with time and practice touching it with different objects. You’ll need to keep up the exercises as well.”

Tim jerked a nod, still not looking.

“We’ll help him with that,” Jason promised. Doing that one handed, especially his arm stump, would be very difficult.

The doctor nodded and then moved on to inspecting Tim’s face. “These stitches can come out as well. There are creams for minimising scars as you know. You can start using those on this, just be careful close to your eye. The headaches should clear up within the next week, if they don’t then you’ll need further tests.”

“So he’s clear to go home?” Jason asked.

“Yes. I assume accommodations have been made?” he asked, and Jason nodded. The doctor left after a while longer, leaving them alone.

“Okay?” he asked, and Tim shook his head. “Hey, this is the first step towards getting back to your life. Once your stumps are fully healed, then you’ll start being fitted for prosthetics, once you have those then you’ll have a lot of your independence back.”

“But not all of it,” Tim whispered.

“Don’t think like that. Between Cyborg and everyone else working on them, you’ll have the most high-tech prosthetics ever. You’ll be back on your feet soon Timmy.”

Tim took a shaky breath. “I’ll never fly again.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But you’re alive Tim, you have your whole life ahead of you.”

Selina read through the reports on what had happened to Tim. She should have been there. She wasn’t his mother, even his stepmother, but she loved all of Bruce’s children, had known they were a package deal. But once he was home, she would be there for him.

And until then…it appeared that dear Edward needed a lesson or two. And she needed to sharpen her claws.

“Selina,” Bruce murmured, wrapping his arms around her.

“I won’t kill him,” she promised, turning to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll gift wrap him for you.”

“Be careful,” he pleaded, knowing he couldn’t stop her.

“I will,” she purred. “And when it’s done, I’d like an introduction to the newest Wayne.”

“Of course,” he agreed.

Tim braced his hand, staring at the physio. This was crazy, he was going to fall.

“Need a hand?”

He looked up to find Cassie in the doorway. He nodded and she walked over to his side, offering her arm. He reached up to grip it, knowing she wouldn’t let him fall, trusting her more than the physio. She pulled a little as he pushed against her arm, his foot planted firmly on the floor. And then he was standing, wavering very badly but he was upright.

“Very good,” the physiotherapist nodded. “Just stay like that for a minute then sit back down.

By the time he sat after the third repeat, he was sweating, breathing heavily.

Dick looked up and smiled as Danny hesitantly joined him, sitting out of reach but closer than he had before. He put the plate of cookies down between them and went back to watching the show, knowing that watching him would just make Danny anxious.

Jason had called, Tim’s stitches had been removed and he’d be cleared to come home soon. It would be good to have him back and Dick didn’t think the introduction between Tim and Danny would have any issues. Selina had taken one look at him and smiled at having another kitten to care for, shocking the kid.

He smiled slightly when he noticed a cookie vanish, good, even with Alfred’s cooking Danny didn’t seem to be gaining much weight yet. Sure, they weren’t healthy but Danny could use the calories.

When he did finally glance over, he was happy to see that Danny had dozed off. He was always so on edge and aware around all of them except Jason so it was a wonderful show of growing trust.

Jim stared at the battered and scratched figure of one Edward Nygma tied up right in front of the precinct. It was rather obvious what had happened to him. It appeared Catwoman had taken exception to his actions causing the death of Red Robin.

When he had been told of the young man’s death, he had been shocked and saddened but that had turned to relief when Timothy Drake was reported as alive but injured on a skiing trip…until the details had been revealed. A double amputation…no wonder they declared Red dead. The poor boy would have a long road to recovery. He had watched his daughter fight to get her life back but at least she could wheel herself, transfer to and from the chair…how would he manage with only one arm?

He did wonder what Bruce was thinking taking on a new child at the same time, but the kid appearing at the same time was a little suspicious. Had they saved him from the mall before it blew? Found him after? He doubted he’d ever learn the truth but that was alright. This one was small and very skittish, he really hoped a new bird didn’t appear any time soon, the kid needed peace and safety.

Kon carried Tim up from the Cave and into the Manor, his boyfriend curled into him. He got it, Tim felt self-conscious about his injuries. But everyone except Alfred, the newest Wayne and Selina Kyle had seen him in the hospital bed. Though Danny had been the one to pull Tim out of the rubble, had seen the mess the limbs were in. Alfred met them outside of Bruce’s office, expression soft as he took in Tim.

“Welcome home Master Tim,” he greeted softly.

Tim slowly uncurled to meet Alfred’s eyes. “Hi Alfred,” he whispered.

“Dear boy.” Alfred reached out to gently brush his hair back. “You have been sorely missed.” He cleared his throat. “Now then, your room has been prepared for you, near Miss Barbara’s.”

Tim nodded in understanding. Kon followed Alfred to Tim’s new room, taking in everything built in for Tim’s safety and to make things easier for him. Kon gently set Tim down on the bed, letting him look around.

“I know it will be tempting, but please Master Tim, do not attempt to hop around the room just yet, even using the grab bars. It will take time and physiotherapy for you to learn how to balance properly. There is a wheelchair for now, however as you cannot wheel it yourself, I have left brochures of electric one’s for you to look over. Even once you have your prosthetics it will take time to adjust to wearing them for any extended time.”

“Yeah.” Tim glanced at the pile of papers. He stopped and closed his eyes. “Sorry Alfred, I’m grateful really, I just…”

“Of course. You should get some rest. Would you prefer to dine in here or with the others?”

“Here please.”

“Very well, I shall bring your lunch in an hour.”

“Thanks Alfred,” Kon agreed. He closed the door behind Alfred and then stretched out on the bed beside Tim.

Tim shifted himself so Kon pulled him into his arms.

“It’s okay,” he promised, pressing a kiss to Tim’s cheek. Tim turned his head for a proper kiss before settling his head over Kon’s heart. Kon petted his hair, feeling it as gradually Tim relaxed in his arms, falling asleep. He tired so easily but the doctors said that would get better as he started working on being active again.

There was a soft knock and the door cracked open, Bruce looking in. “Is he asleep?” he asked very softly, and Kon nodded. The man moved quietly across the room to look down at Tim briefly. “The physio will be here in the morning for his first session.”

Kon nodded. Bruce had hired a private physiotherapist to come to the Manor and see Tim rather than having to take him into the city where the press would likely be searching for any sign of him.  

“Are the two of you?” Bruce asked, and Kon fought to not tense, not wanting to wake Tim.

“Since I came back,” he admitted warily but Bruce just nodded again.

“He needs you,” the man whispered before leaving.

Huh, that had gone a lot better than he’d expected.

Selina stepped into the bedroom, relieved to see Tim sitting up in bed, reclining against a mountain of pillows. Alfred was sitting in his lap, purring softly.

“Hey,” he murmured, not quit meeting her eyes.

She sat in the chair beside his bed, reaching for his hand, and Tim didn’t pull away. “I’ve missed you. How is physio going?” She wanted to ask how he felt but she knew he wouldn’t answer that, not at the moment.

“Exhausting,” he scoffed, grimacing. “I’m barely doing anything and it feels like a day’s long mission with no sleep.”

“It will get better,” she promised softly, reaching out to stroke his hair. “You’ve been through a lot, kitten. You came far too close to dying. And now your body has to adjust to moving very differently, a different centre of balance, and using different muscles for movement,” she reminded him, smiling slightly when he huffed in annoyance.

“I heard B and Dick…you found him.”

“With some help. Harley and Pam were quite happy to help me find Red Robin’s killer. You’ve always been the favourite Robin. You were so tiny and ever so polite to everyone, well, everyone other than the Joker. Rid…Edward did apologise, he didn’t mean for Red Robin to die. He thought you’d get them diffused in time.”

“He miscalculated,” Tim grumbled.

“He did, and he will be paying for that for a long time. He’s now very much persona non grata with a lot of those he will be sharing a prison with. Everyone knows you don’t kill Batman’s birds. Most are still hiding, waiting for him to lose it like he did after the second Robin vanished. They wonder why he hasn’t been out much sine Red’s death. They don’t know that he and Nightwing are switching out the cowl.”

Tim nodded. She knew he would feel guilty about how little the family was ‘working’ but they wanted to be there for him.

“We love you Tim, no matter what,” she promised.

He took a shaky breath, a tear slipping free. She moved to sit on the bed, and he slumped into her, letting Selina hold him as he cried quietly.

She wheeled herself to the bedroom, seeing the closed door. She knocked gently, waiting. Tim was sleeping a lot, his body still healing from the trauma.

“Come in,” he called softly.

She opened the door and made her way to the bedside. She’d seen him on the monitors but this was the first time she’d come in person. And Tim wouldn’t look at her, staring at the wall just past her. “Tim,” she called, reaching for his hand, and he didn’t pull away.

He held on tightly to her hand, gaze moving to the bed while avoiding the space where his leg should have been.

“I know you feel like your life is over but it’s not. I felt like that for too long after I was shot. Eventually, it will get easier, you’ll learn new ways of doing things, adapt.”

“You still have all your limbs,” he whispered. “You can wheel yourself, even fight. I…” he swallowed.

“Prosthetics will help, and they’re improving all the time. I’ve seen the preliminary designs that Vic and B are working on, they are way beyond what even WE is putting on the market. And I’m sure they would love your input on them too.”

But Tim shook his head. “I can’t…I just…can’t.”

“Because it makes it real. Have you even looked at the pamphlets for a wheelchair yet?”

He shook his head again.

“Tim…I know it feels like giving up to do it, but with an electric chair you could have some freedom of movement back without needing someone to push or carry you.”

Tim bit his lip but then let go of her hand, hesitating, but then reached for the pile. He set them on the bed, spreading them out. “Help me?”

“Of course.” She smiled at him and they began going over all of the options.

Damian watched his new brother as Danny sat in the window seat, staring up at the night sky. This boy, despite his powers, was not a threat to him or his position in the family despite being older than Damian. He had saved Drake…Timothy. He could have stayed back, kept hidden.

Danny looked over at him, eyes reflecting the light for a moment. Damian nodded at him and walked over to the nearby armchair, sitting with his sketchbook. Sitting in silence together was nice, Damian would not push him to talk or ‘bond’ like the others had with him.

And eventually, his new brother crept closer to see what he was doing. It was a sketch of Timothy in the Red Robin suit, mid-swing.

“Tim?” Danny asked softly, and Damian nodded.

“There are few pictures of him as Red Robin. The memories may hurt now, but one day he will want to see,” he explained. He would make a painting and put it away until Timothy was ready.

Tim lay back on his bed, exhausted. He hadn’t done anything new with the physio but he felt like he did after three days in the field on little sleep. It was stupid. B said his wheelchair would be arriving in a few days and while he was looking forward to being able to get around by himself…he was also dreading it. It would make things real in a different way. He’d probably feel the same way when it came time to begin fitting the prosthetics. 

He felt eyes and looked up, stiffening, it was…no, that wasn’t Damian. And then he remembered, the boy who had saved him. The newest Wayne and his younger brother. He hadn’t really seen him before, though the others said he had poked his head into Tim’s room a few times, checking he was okay. It made sense, after saving someone close to death they always checked the hospital later to see if they had made it or not.

“Hi,” he greeted, managing a small smile for the younger teen. He was small, skinny, but Tim knew that Alfred would be dealing with that. “You’re Danny, right?”

Danny nodded, hovering in the doorway.

“You can come in,” Tim offered. As exhausted as he was, he wasn’t going to turn Danny away. He patted the mattress beside him, watching Danny eye it warily before hesitantly approaching. “Thank you, Danny, you saved my life.”

“I…” He glanced at Tim again before slowly getting onto the bed, sitting stiffly.

Tim slowly touched Danny’s hand and he looked up at him. “You did Danny, it would have taken them too long to dig down to us. You were very brave to offer to help.”

“I…I could feel you dying,” Danny whispered. “I didn’t want a hero to die.”

“The way I hear it, you’re as much as a hero as any Bat or Super.” Not that he’d heard a lot, only the very, very basics. Danny was half ghost, had been working as the sole hero in his city, trying to keep the peace between the living and the dead. Till he’d had to flee for his life.

He was sure that if they searched thoroughly, there’d be hints that despite being on the run, Danny hadn’t retired. He’d stepped up to help save Tim after all.

“I tried,” Danny finally whispered.

“That is what matters,” Tim promised him.

“I’m sorry, I was scared, if I’d come out sooner…”

“Danny, look at me,” Tim urged, and Danny slowly looked up again. “Even if you had arrived immediately after the explosion settled, there’s no guarantee anything would have changed. That slab was so heavy, it crushed the bones on impact.”

“Okay,” he finally agreed, and Tim smiled at him.

“So, time to get to know my new little brother. Tell me about yourself? Anything you want. Doesn’t have to be big or important.”

“I…I wanted to be an astronaut.”

Tim grinned at him and Danny slowly smiled back.

TBC…

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: not mine

Chapter 3

Tim stared at the brand-new wheelchair, parked and waiting for him. it was fully charged and ready to go. He glanced at Nick, his physiotherapist, who grinned and nodded. He nodded shakily and shifted on the bed. He could do this, he could. He glanced at where Danny was watching with worried eyes, managing a smile for his new little brother. It was his first time watching Tim’s physio. Everyone took turns, making sure they knew what to do to help him and while it was embarrassing it also felt good to know they wanted to help given how things had been between him and the family when Bruce was gone.

He was wearing sweatpants with the leg closed off just under his knee so he wouldn’t trip on the trailing pant leg and a t-shirt. It was a step up from the pyjamas he’d mostly been wearing. And once he got a prosthetic leg then the pant leg wouldn’t need to be shortened.

The chair…felt like defeat even though he knew it wasn’t. He’d forced himself to do some research now that he was allowed to use his computer. Not everyone could wear prosthetics every day, all day, and he had to be prepared for that possibility. It was custom made for him and in the colours that he knew that he’d never wear again. Red Robin was dead.

“Tim?” Danny asked softly.

Tim looked at his brother and managed a smile for the kid. “Think I could use a spotter?” He asked, and Danny moved closer, staying out of Nick’s reach, but the man didn’t react. B had let everyone who would be coming to the Manor know that Danny was wary of others.

With Danny beside him, Tim carefully shifted his weight and grabbed the nearby bar, half pushing himself up with his remaining leg while also pulling with his arm until he was standing. Danny was right there if he needed steadying, it seemed strange to him but Kon and Jason had confirmed that Danny had single handedly carried him up from the rubble. Catching him if he fell would be nothing compared to that. Tim shifted his grip and then hopped forward to where the chair waited, carefully twisting around to lower himself down into it. He was tired from just doing that much but not as tired as he had been from simply standing and sitting back on the Watchtower so he was getting stronger.

“Very good. Keep this up and you’ll be able to transfer in and out of the chair without needing someone to watch,” Nick praised, and Tim nodded tiredly.

Danny shocked him with a small grin, the boy almost bouncing in happiness. And Tim…Tim found himself feeling better. He was doing better; he was getting stronger. His life wouldn’t always be like this.

Bruce watched as the Fentons were arrested, not trusting himself to take part in it. Not when he’d held his trembling son as the boy cried. The laws were repealed and the Justice League was going after the Fentons and the GIW. His newest son would be safe now, sure, there would always be those who saw him as a thing to be destroyed or owned, but even Meta’s faced danger despite the protection acts. But now Danny had legal protection if anyone found out that he was half ghost.

He didn’t like being away from home between Danny adjusting and Tim being home again but he’d had to see this with his own eyes. Once it was done, he hurried back to Gotham.

Barbara watched as Tim learned to find his way around the Manor using his wheelchair. He was picking it up quickly which was good, all those days and nights riding a motorcycle at high speed helped with judging corners. At least he was using it now, when it had first arrived, he wouldn’t even look at it, despite picking it out with her.

It was cute how Danny was staying by his side, a ghostly bodyguard. She’d seen the papers his parents had published and they made her feel sick. They were the worst kind of ‘scientists’. She knew Bruce was overseeing their arrest but no one had told Danny that. Bruce was going to talk to him about it when he got back.

She spotted Dick watching, hanging back a bit and she knew why. Yes, Tim had accepted his comfort on the Watchtower but things between them had been tense since Tim’s return to Gotham from his search for Bruce. As much as Dick wanted to smother Tim in affection, she doubted Tim would accept it. Honestly, it was surprising Tim had been so accepting of everyone’s hovering so far. He’d always been so private and independent… Being paralysed had been a hard adjustment for her but she had always been willing to lean on her Dad and Dick. Tim struggled with that.

“I’d offer to race but I’m sure your engine has more power than my arms,” she teased as she moved up beside him, bumping her arm against his gently.

“Wouldn’t want to scratch Alfred’s floors,” he pointed, out and she laughed.

“Good point.”

Kon gently rubbed the cream into Tim’s leg, noticing that he was staring at the wall rather than watch what Kon was doing. Tim had to accept his altered body to help him heal and move forward but Kon couldn’t imagine how hard it was. To wake up and find two limbs gone… how did anyone deal with that? He kept his touch gentle but firm as he massaged the stump.

It looked to be healing well to his untrained eye. There was no bruising, no sores or red skin, the scar was healing well. “There’s less swelling today,” he murmured, and Tim nodded but still didn’t look. Kon stopped and wiped the cream from his hands before taking Tim’s hand in his, his other hand going to Tim’s cheek.

“Tim, look at me Rob,” he coaxed, and Tim looked up at him, pain clear in his eyes. “Don’t do this Rob, don’t shut me out,” he pleaded. “This doesn’t change anything. I’d love you if you had no limbs or eight. You’re still Tim Drake-Wayne, the smartest, nerdiest, crazy guy I know. And I get that is the hardest thing you’ve ever faced but you’re not alone.”

Tim shuddered, gaze dropping, his heart racing, but he didn’t pull away. “I hate this. I just…I want it to be a nightmare.”

“I know,” Kon whispered. “I wish it was, but it’s not. You heard the specialist; you’ll be able to get fitted for the temporary prosthetics soon and after that will be your permanent ones. Between you and Cyborg, they’ll be the best ones anyone’s ever seen. They can’t replace what you’ve lost but you’ll be able to do so much more for yourself.”

“I can’t…just looking at them makes me feel sick.”

“Okay, then for now, don’t look. Let me guide you.” He gently tugged on Tim’s hand, seeing as he realised what he meant.

Tim took a shaky breath and then leant back deeper in the pillows, closing his eyes. Kon slowly drew his hand down to the stump of his leg. Very carefully, he helped Tim explore the area, feeling the scars and healed skin. He heard Tim’s breathing hitch but he didn’t pull free. Tim had to become comfortable touching the stumps before he was fitted for prosthetics. When Tim began shaking, he stopped, leaning in to kiss him softly.

“So proud of you,” he whispered.

Danny stared at the TV in shock. It…it couldn’t be real, could it? The Acts… and then a gentle hand gripped his shoulder.

“It’s okay Chum,” Mr Wayne…Bruce’s voice. “Breathe with me Danny.”

He hadn’t realised he wasn’t breathing and sucked in some air. “Is…is it…”

“It’s real Danny. The Anti-Ecto Acts have been abolished and the Justice League has arrested the GIW…and the Dr’s Fenton.”

“Oh,” Danny whispered, hugging himself. It…it was over?

“You’re safe Danny, as Danny or Phantom, they can’t touch you,” Bruce promised, and Danny looked up at him.

Why? Why could a stranger, someone so paranoid, accept him when his parents couldn’t? He’d just wanted them to see him, to love him no matter what, but they couldn’t get over their own stupid bias.

Danny crumpled and Bruce caught him, holding him as he sobbed. He was smaller than his Dad, not by a lot, but his hug felt just as safe. All of the family felt safe but especially Jason, he hadn’t asked him about it, but everyone knew that Jason Todd-Wayne had died years ago. He wasn’t a Ghost or Halfa but he had ectoplasm. Most of the Bats had at least some small level of contamination. And maybe that was what was making it easier to trust them.

Ectoplasm was the whole reason he’d come to Gotham though, lots of people were contaminated and he hadn’t trusted them. He’d been drawn to the explosion that day, unable to help old instincts to help, but had held back until he realised someone was trapped and dying. Approaching them had been so scary, but he had felt Batman’s terror and growing grief and hadn’t been able to stay back. Now, he was glad that he hadn’t. They said that Tim’s injuries had been immediate, that Danny coming forward quicker wouldn’t have changed things, but it was hard to accept that.

He'd felt a shift in his priorities again since coming to Wayne Manor…a need to make sure that Tim was healthy and happy. It was good to have an anchor but was it a healthy one? With time, hopefully he’d settle on something less specific, less tied to one mortal life. It had been hard enough losing his link, his anchor, to his family and Amity Park. If Tim died when he was his only anchor…it could kill Danny too.

“You’re a Wayne now Danny, you are my son. And that comes with a lot of siblings too.”

Danny nodded, pulling back, embarrassed by crying. “I…I want to…need to help Tim,” he admitted softly.

“What do you mean, Danny?” Bruce’s voice was gentle, no suspicion like Danny still expected.

“Ghosts have obsessions…it’s why I fought in Amity Park; it was my territory. I’m a Guardian Spirit. When I had to leave the city and everyone behind, I lost my anchor…couldn’t link to anything new…till I saved Tim. It should steady and spread out either to the family or even Gotham with time but right now…”

“It’s Tim,” Bruce finished, and Danny nodded nervously. “That’s why you’ve been staying so close since you were introduced.” And he couldn’t help flinching slightly at Bruce’s words.

“I think…I think the Realms could help him. He’s got some ecto-contamination, you all do except Duke,” Danny told him, tensing slightly, but Bruce just nodded. “Frostbite, he’s my doctor and the one who taught me how to use ice…he has a prosthetic arm. I think we could mix Earth and Realms tech for Tim.”

Or maybe grow new limbs? They had…they had tried to help Dani that way; she just hadn’t been stable enough to last until it was done. They had used stolen data from Vlad, to use it to stabilise her DNA and regrow some things that hadn’t been quite right. If they could change it to work for human DNA…  

Bruce knew that Tim wasn’t ready, not yet, not when he couldn’t look at his own stumps but the press was becoming brutal in their desire to see proof that Tim was alive and his condition. He’d talked about it with Lois and Clark and they would be handling things. It wasn’t going to be an interview with Tim; they’d all agreed on that. And Kon would be with Tim, so would his siblings except for Danny who was even less ready for press attention. Yes, it was known that Bruce had adopted another child, but he’d managed to mostly keep Danny out of the press so far. All they knew was that Danny Nightingale, an orphan, was now Danny Wayne.

Tim was in his chair, surrounded by his siblings on the back patio, getting some much-needed sunlight and vitamin D. Alfred had taken some candid photos of the group and passed them on to Lois for the article. Vikki Vale was all but foaming at the mouth to get access to his children but given the articles she’d written in the past, especially about Tim, there was no way he would let her close. Tim was no longer a minor after all, which meant he wasn’t protected from anything she wanted to write. But anything she published wouldn’t get much traction compared to one published with photos of the Wayne children together.

Danny was with Jason in the library, Jason helping Danny as he worked to catch up on missed schoolwork. Bruce was hoping that Danny would be ready to attend for his final year but if not, then that was okay too.

Tim stared at the article on his ‘accident’ and ongoing recovery. It was tasteful of course; Lois was a professional. He’d known there would be photos but seeing them… He looked so small now, he’d never been the biggest of B’s kids, that award went to Jason who wasn’t even in the photos since he was legally dead. But now, missing limbs, he looked tiny.

And his leg stump was itching. He shifted on the couch but it wouldn’t go away. He was alone, he’d told everyone he was fine, that he’d watch tv or nap and to do their own things…which meant either he ignored it…or scratched it himself.

Tim closed his eyes and forced himself to take some slow, deep breaths. Then he reached down towards his leg, rubbing at through the shrinker sock but it wasn’t enough. He blinked back tears of frustration; he could get it off but getting it back on with only one hand wouldn’t happen.

“Timothy?”

He nearly jumped, opening his eyes to see Damian in the doorway, watching him.

“Are you in pain?”

“I’m fine,” he forced the words out. Damian had been different since Tim had come home, no longer threatening him, because he wasn’t worth it?

“Tt.” Damian approached and Tim fought the urge to tense, he hadn’t been alone with him since the bombing, would he… fluff the pillow? “You gave your spleen to save Father, now half of your limbs for Todd. You…are not what I was taught.”

Was that…was the kid kind of apologising to him? Hesitantly he lifted his hand and ruffled short black hair, seeing Damian’s eyes widen slightly in reaction. “I just wanted a little brother,” he whispered. And there, a flash of guilt.

“And now you have one,” Damian’s voice was harsh, tight…pained.

“Now I have two,” he corrected.

Damian stared at him before looking away, the smallest hint of red on the tips of his ears. He tried so hard to act like an adult…but he really was just a kid. A deadly one, but still a kid. It would take a lot of time to move past what Damian had done to him since he’d arrived in Gotham but with time it would happen. Look at him and Jason now after all.

And hey, he wasn’t itchy anymore.

Jason gently but firmly massaged the scarred skin under his hands, keeping a close watch on his brother. Tim was staring up at the ceiling even as he worked on lifting and lowering his leg, working to keep his leg strong in preparation for the prosthetic. He’d been measured that morning for them but he didn’t seem excited about it. He could do some light massage himself on the leg but not really his shoulder and the stump there so they took turns. The skin on both was becoming less sensitive at least which was good, they didn’t want the prosthetics to hurt or anything.

“Okay? It’s been a pretty big day,” he finally offered, and Tim shrugged slightly, keeping the side Jason was working on still though. “Tim?”

“I…” he looked down at his lap, stopping his exercises.

“It’s a lot?” he asked, and Tim nodded.

“I want the prosthetics,” he whispered, “but being measured made me feel sick. Listening to them talk about it.”

“I’m sorry Tim,” Jason whispered.

“None of this is your fault! The only one to blame is Nygma for planting the bombs in the first place.” Tim glared at him. “I chose to push you out of the blast zone.”

Jason nodded. He knew that but it was hard to accept. Of everything that could happen to any of them, he’d never imagined this even after Babs’ injury and his own death. Scars were a known and accepted mark their work left on them all but to lose multiple limbs?

He took a slow breath and went back to work; Tim’s shoulder muscles were tight enough they had to be uncomfortable.

“The arm’s the worst. The leg I can hide under pants but the arm…”

“You don’t have to hide them Timbit. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Tim gave him a small smile at that. “I don’t regret it Jason, no matter what…I don’t regret saving you.”

“You don’t need to do this,” Bruce murmured, a hand resting gently on Danny’s shoulder.

“I know,” Danny answered, his voice echoing slightly, leaning a bit into his ghost side from nervousness? “But they can’t hurt me now.” The slight tremor in his voice proved he knew that wasn’t true. They couldn’t harm him physically but emotionally?

Bruce had ensured that the area was clear, no one else would see Danny except him and Clark. Clark was there as a just in case given that Jack Fenton had broken out of a set of restraints. He was incredibly strong but not Kryptonian level.

He didn’t want to bring Danny up so soon but the Fentons were due to be transferred to an actual prison outside of JL authority and Danny Fenton was legally dead. Which meant that this could be his last chance to face his parents. He led Danny through the halls to the detention area, the windows all closed so that Danny wasn’t distracted by the view of space.

And then he watched as Danny entered the room alone.

“I can hear everything,” Clark assured him, and Bruce nodded.

He stared at his parents, finding that for the first time in years…he wasn’t afraid. They were chained to the table and Superman was outside but so was Bruce, Batman, and he wouldn’t let them hurt Danny again. Bruce was right, he didn’t have to do this but…something was telling him to do it. They’d had time since his escape to rethink things, especially since their arrest. Maybe?

“You!” Maddie hissed. “How dare you?!” she strained against the restraints.

And Danny felt the last of his hope fade away. “Why can’t you see the truth?” he asked softly.

“Get out of his body!” She snapped but…Jack was silent, watching him.

Danny shook his head. “This is my body. I am Danny, but you’ll never see it because you’re more obsessed than any Ghost. Even about to be incarcerated for life, you refuse to see the truth…that the real monsters are you and the GIW.” He turned away; there was no point in staying anymore. He…he wanted to go home - to Gotham and the Manor.

“Danny?” Jack called hesitantly, and Danny froze before making himself look back at him. “They said…did we really…?”

He took a deep breath, knowing what he was trying to ask. “You put the on button inside the portal and left it plugged in.” Let them work it out from there, they didn’t deserve his Death, not anymore. “Goodbye,” he whispered as he walked out the door.

Tim blinked up at the ceiling, feeling a warm weight against his side. He turned his head and was surprised to see Danny. The kid tended to run cooler than normal but tucked up in blankets beside Tim it seemed he’d warmed up a bit. Even in his sleep, he looked miserable…right, B had taken him up to see his bio-parents. Well, obviously that hadn’t gone well. He shifted carefully, wrapping his arm around his brother, feeling Danny relax completely in reaction. Poor kid.

Kid…there was barely a year between them and Danny had been a vigilante almost as long as he had but with way less support and yet… it was easy to see Danny as younger for some reason. Was it because he died at fourteen, even if he came back halfway? B had admitted they were wondering if his shortness was because of that. Once he was comfortable enough, the plan was for a full workup with the Watchtower’s medical team but ti could be a while yet before Danny was up to that.

It was early, light barely visible around his curtains but Tim knew he wouldn’t be getting anymore sleep. Today was the day. After waiting for his stumps to heal and to build up some strength and stamina he was finally going to be getting prosthetics. Normally, they were fitted early but Tim wasn’t exactly a normal patient and there’d been concerns over his immune system and ability to heal so they hadn’t wanted to risk putting pressure on the areas too soon. They weren’t the permanent ones, those would take longer to make, but these ones would hopefully give him back some mobility. He’d been warned that it would take time to get used to them but he just wanted out of that chair!

His window opened silently, and Tim smiled as Kon slipped inside. He hesitated when he saw Danny asleep but floated over to keep from making noise. He settled on Tim’s free side and Tim fought the urge to tense. It was fine, he was fine, Kon would never ever hurt him. Kon pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and Tim relaxed into his warmth.

Eventually though, they had to get up. Danny slipped away silently, leaving Kon to carry Tim into the shower.

“Kon,” he started, unable to help blushing.

He’d been helped with everything he could imagine since his injuries but…well, usually it was family who helped with the naked bits, not his boyfriend. Sure, they’d seen each other naked before in decontamination showers and stuff but they hadn’t actually reached that part of their relationship before the explosion. And he could mostly handle the shower by himself now, as long as he was careful and stayed seated.

Kon knelt, carefully removing the shrinker from his stump and Tim swallowed at where that put is face in proximity. “Ask me to leave and I will,” Kon murmured.

Tim stared at him, Kon helped care for his injuries, he saw them, touched them. He still kissed Tim, hadn’t left him… Tim nodded slowly. Kon smiled softly, reaching out to pull Tim’s top off for him before removing his pants, leaving him bare since it was easier just skipping underwear at night. And then Kon stripped and Tim swallowed, taking in firm, tanned skin…muscles…

Kon chuckled, sounding a little nervous and Tim dragged his eyes up to meet his. “Like what you see?” Kon was aiming for teasing but it was obvious that he was as nervous as Tim was. Which was silly, Kon was…he was perfect, amazing, beautiful. Tim…Tim was a scarred mess with only two limbs. Or two and a half as Dick would insist since he still had his upper leg.

Kon turned the water on and Tim closed his eyes, relaxing in the chair as it cascaded down on him. he kept them closed as Kon began to wash his hair, definitely doing a better job at it then Tim could now.

“You’re beautiful,” Kon murmured, pressing soft kisses down his throat to his scarred shoulder and then the stump, Tim shivering from the sensation.

Tm didn’t argue, Kon always insisted he still looked good despite how mutilated his body now was. He just let Kon do as he pleased, gently washing him, occasionally dropping kisses on different bits of skin. The cloth moved down to his hips and Tim felt his breathing speed up a little. The cloth traced over where his legs and body joined but avoided one important spot.

“Can I?” Kon asked, and Tim nodded.

It was just washing, nothing to be embarrassed about. The cloth carefully brushed over his groin and wow, okay. The touch became firmer and his eyes snapped open, meeting Kon’s. the next brush was a definite caress and Tim breathed deeply.

“Kon…”

“Do you want me to stop?” his boyfriend asked.

His boyfriend…they’d never gotten this far before, only above the waist and kisses. But he’d imagined it just never like this. This was a normal relationship step, one he’d never gotten to with anyone.

“Sure?” he asked, and Kon smiled at him, leaning in for a kiss.

“I want to make you feel good Rob,” he promised.

“Okay,” Tm whispered.

Kon grinned and went back to ‘washing’ the area, eventually setting the cloth aside to touch him directly.

Kon was feeling very pleased with himself as he walked beside Tim’s chair. He hadn’t been sure that Tim would let him do that but he had! He knew that Tim often needed actions over words to prove things to him. Kon could say that he still loved him till he was blue in the face and part of Tim would always doubt it because of his horrible self-esteem which had not taken a massive blow. But being willing to touch him like that? For Tim to be able to see how Kon’s body responded in return? That was proof that Tim couldn’t deny.

He was excited for Tim to get his prosthetics, he knew they weren’t a miracle fix but the more independence Tim got back, the better he’d feel. He joined the family for breakfast, glad to hear Danny talking more. It seemed the kid was finally coming out of his shell, not that he blamed him from the little he’d seen of the case. He’d like five minutes alone with the Fentons and GIW agents himself.

“Ready to go Tim?” Bruce eventually asked, and Tim nodded, reaching for his hand.

Kon took it, squeezing gently. “It’s going to be fine,” he promised.

Bruce watched as the very basic prosthetic leg was attached to his son’s stump, Tim tense, holding tight to Kon’s hand. The technician checked the fit, asking Tim questions about his comfort.

“Alright, now we’re going to get you standing, don’t try to walk with it, just stand.”

Tim nodded and carefully pushed himself up, Nick holding onto Tim’s gait belt to ensure he didn’t fall. He’d wanted to use a League facility but that would be a risk to Tim’s identity, it would be expected for him to be in Gotham for this. The technician, Jiro, did work for the Justice League but also for WE since they had a medical equipment division so he was a good compromise.

Bruce watched as they had Tim slowly work on letting the prosthetic take his weight, seeing Tim’s hesitancy in leaning on it. He didn’t blame him; it had to feel so strange. They were doing one at a time with a break in between so as not to exhaust Tim. From what he’d read, Tim should adapt to the leg more easily than the arm. Though, Danny’s offer lingered in his mind and even without it, they were working on limbs that would be wired to Tim’s nervous system, to give him greater control. It would mean more surgery but Tim wanted it.

Danny slumped back on his bed; it just wasn’t working! His evil future self could do it, so why couldn’t he? Yes, he could survive off of Gotham’s ectoplasm levels but if he was hurt then he’d need help from Frostbite. It had taken him way too long to heal from his injuries when he’d run from Amity Park, he was lucky that they hadn’t actually caught him.

He wanted to help Tim and he knew that the Realms could do that. Maybe even help Jason cause whatever ectoplasm he’d been exposed to was rank. It lingered around Damian and Cass too though nowhere near as badly.

Living as a Wayne was so different to his old life and he sometimes felt guilty for being happy. He was safer in the Manor than he’d ever been at Fenton Works, the security systems were designed against intruders and not residents. Bruce and Alfred would never allow a system that would target one of them.

Sometimes he felt guilty…that the Wayne’s felt more like family than the one he was born into. He had loved his parents, loved Jazz but…looking back they were all very obsessive. His parents with ghosts and Jazz with psychology. He loved his sister but he hated how she was forever analysing him, telling him what he felt and why as if she knew better than he did. Yes, she’d been a great addition to the team (even with her terrible aim) but she never let anything go. Cass never pushed, she would just sit in silence with him, help him with learning more sign language when he couldn’t talk, tell him stories… she never tried to tell him she knew better. Steph and Babs were great too, even if Babs looked a lot like Jazz.

Jazz was of at Yale, her dream school, according to Bruce. Sam and Tucker were in school but apparently had raised hell when the Fentons declared him dead. Even Mr Lancer had put in reports about something being wrong, but no one had listened. Part of him wanted to reach out but…his being Phantom had ruined their lives in so many ways, maybe…maybe it was better for them to believe he was truly dead so that they could move on.

He looked a bit different now, it wouldn’t be immediately obvious it was him if they saw photos, especially with the name Wayne. Most of Bruce’s kids had black hair and blue eyes after all. But if Phantom showed up in Gotham? Would Bruce allow that?

Dick watch in awe as Timmy stood up on two legs for the first time since the explosion, well the first time he was seeing it anyway. He wasn’t allowed to wear either limb for very long yet or do anything like attempt stairs, but it was a start. Tim looked up to find him watching, and Dick grinned at him.

“I’m so proud of you Tim,” he told his little brother.

“It’s just standing,” Tim mumbled, and Dick reached out to ruffle his hair.

“It’s a big step,” he corrected, smirking, and Tim rolled his eyes. Dick walked beside Tim as his brother carefully made his way down the hall. He could see the change to the way Tim walked which made sense since the foot of the prosthetic was solid, that would change with his permanent one. Tim wasn’t allowed to walk alone since he was a massive fall risk while re-learning to walk, especially without two hands to catch himself. He tended to not wear both prosthetics at once, obviously wanting to fully focus on each until he got the hang of things.

“Does it hurt?” he asked.

Tim shook his head. “It feels strange, the knee doesn’t bother me anymore which I guess is normal, plenty of people have complete knee replacements. There’s a bit of numbness because of severed nerves but they said that might improve and they’re only the more surface level nerves, not the main ones. Nerves can regenerate but I’m not sure I want them to given there’s now nothing below them.”

“Yeah,” Dick murmured. “How’s the phantom limb stuff?”

“Not…too bad?” Tim shrugged slightly and then began to tip so Dick steadied him. “It’s more I forget and try to do something but then nothing happens. It’s worse with my arm, I keep getting an itchy hand but…”

There was no hand to be itching.

“I’m doing all the prescribed things to help with it,” Tim promised. “Mirror therapy, desensitization, TENS, and B said he’s setting up the training programs for some VR therapies to help. All the doctors agree that if I can get by without meds then that’s for the best. I’ve got painkillers for when I need them.”

Dick nodded, Tim’s bedside table had become a pharmacy for a while but slowly the number of medications had lessened. Tim tried to manage as much of his therapy as he could alone and Dick got it; he’d always been pretty private and independent. Having to rely on others so much…

“Bruce?”

He looked up and smiled. “Yes Danny?”

“Could…” he hesitated and took a deep breath. “Could you teach me?”

“Teach you what chum?” he leant forward to focus on his newest son, leaving his work.

“I want to join you at night. Maybe not as Phantom but… I think it’ll help me settle fully. But I’ve never really had to fight humans. And you investigate things which I didn’t need.”

Bruce had been expecting this. Danny had already spent time as a vigilante after all; it wasn’t surprising that he wanted to join them. “Alright, we can work on training. I’d like you to undergo a meta evaluation to see how your abilities rank. With some of them being instinctive, you’ll likely end up using them in a fight after all. As long as you don’t transform, you could pass as a Meta if you don’t want Phantom to be seen in Gotham. But you’re safe now son, you can be Phantom whenever you want to.”

“I know but…everyone thinks that Phantom’s gone, finding out he’s not…” Dany shrugged slightly.

Bruce wasn’t sure about that. He’d offered to reach out to Jasmine for him, but Danny had turned him down. Why didn’t he want his sister or friends to know? He might need to talk to Dinah about arranging some kind of therapy. Tim was tentatively talking with Harley, maybe she’d be a good match for Danny too. Tim had history with her, history that Bruce and Barbara had never spoken of with anyone else. But ever since then, she’d been protective of Tim. Bruce didn’t think she’d have any issue helping his new brother but Bruce would speak with Dinah first, just to be sure that a more relaxed setting and unofficial therapy would be helpful.

He glanced at his work and smiled, standing. “How about we get started,” he offered, and Danny’s eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Really.” He led Danny down to the Batcave. Despite knowing their id’s, Danny hadn’t been down there much. He made his way to the training area and stood to let Danny look around a bit. “What do you want to start with?”

Danny stared at him, a flash of wariness in his eyes, before his stance firmed and then rings of light split from his middle to travel over his body. Bruce watched as Danny became Phantom. He’d know of course but seeing the transformation himself… he’d seen the blurry photos but none of them did him justice.

He studied the suit and grimaced, there was no armour…it was a hazmat suit. “Can we add armour to the suit or change it for something more protective?” he asked, and Danny blinked.

His son stared at him, floating effortlessly above the floor but then he nodded slowly, seeming shocked. Had Danny thought that seeing his Phantom form would change things? He really hated the Fentons for what they had done to his son.

“I didn’t have the emblem at first so things can be added, not sure if I could change it, but I could try. Colours invert though.”

Bruce nodded, ideas already running through his mind.

“And I think I’m making progress on working out portals too.”

“That’s good.” The sooner they had access to Danny’s doctor the better, he was way overdue for a checkup from someone knowledgeable when it came to ghosts. “Do you want to run through things like this first?” he offered but Danny shook his head and de-transformed.

Bruce took a defensive stance and motioned him on.

TBC…