Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tim stretches as he finishes typing up his latest report from a mission with Kon and Cassie. Bruce requested that he do so in great detail, despite the 20-year-old being far past the age of needing the man to watch his every step.

But it’s Bruce, so it’s easier for Tim to humor him rather than fight it. Besides, there’s not much going on, and he’s kind of bored.

Taking note of the fact that he hasn’t had anything to eat besides energy drinks and a granola bar since breakfast, Tim decides to be responsible for once and go get something to eat. Alfred did say he left some lasagna in the fridge for him, and he can’t say no to Alfred's homemade cooking.

Stepping out of his room into the empty halls, he shuffles down the stairs towards the kitchen. Before he even enters, he can smell something being made. He’s not sure what it is, but it smells amazing, whatever it is.

“Hey Alfred, what are you-” Tim stops himself when he sees it’s not Alfred, but Damian cooking.

“Hello Drake,” he greets as he adds cumin to a pot on the stove. “If you are looking for Pennyworth, he is out running errands and will not return until later.”

Tim stares blankly at him for a moment, unsure what to say.

Usually, only Alfred and Jason are allowed to use the stove. Bruce and Cass are both disasters in the kitchen, and Dick only has basic skills. Plus, he tends to forget to clean up after himself and has a tendency to use basically five loads of dishes to make one cup of hot cocoa.

Tim himself is banned. Not because he’s bad at it, like Dick, he has basic skills (he did live alone most of his childhood with very little supervision). No, he’s banned because he likes to experiment in the kitchen. Or as Alfred says, he tends to make ‘unhealthy abominations’ like soup made from boiling ramen noodles in Red Bull, just to see what happens.

But Damian’s in here. And he seems to be cooking something very well.

“Is there a reason you are staring at me, or did you forgo sleep and are seeing some form of hallucination?” Damian sasses.

His tone is far more playful than when he first arrived at the manor over four years ago. He’s fourteen now and has mellowed out some. On top of that, he and Tim’s relationship has become much better. It’s to the point now that they acknowledge that they’re brothers and their banter is more often than not playful in nature.

“Does Alfred know you’re in here?” Tim asks, snapping out of his haze.

Damian gives him a curious look, like he doesn’t know why Tim would ask such a thing.

“Of course. He lets me use the kitchen whenever I want,” Damian says. “After all, he, Todd, and I are the only ones who can prepare a decent meal without burning the house down or destroying a pan with burnt sugar.”

If the smirk Damian sends over his shoulder is any indication, the last one is targeted at Tim, who once tried to make caramel with olive oil instead of butter on a dare from Steph.

“Oh,” Tim says. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Tt. Of course I can. You think Mother would send me to this spiceless abyss without our family recipes?” Damian says. “That would be an insult to our culture and my taste buds. Besides, she could not risk losing my spice tolerance. Father once told her that salt was an acceptable spice, she was not taking any risks.”

Huh. Tim had never really thought about that before. In his defense, Talia doesn’t really seem like the kind to teach her kid to cook, but he has also learned more about her as a mother through Damian than he ever thought her capable of.

And also Bruce does have a surprisingly low spice tolerance for someone who’s Batman. It's not as bad as Tim’s, but it’s nowhere near Dick or Damian’s. Those two have spicy ramen contests and will devour bowls that make Tim’s tongue hurt just by looking at it without even breaking a sweat. It’s honestly kind of off-putting at times.

“Fair enough,” Tim says, sitting on the countertop next to the stove and peering into Damian’s pot, and maybe taking another whiff. “It smells good. What are you making?”

“Just a snack,” Damian hums. “Red lentil soup. Would you like some?”

“You sure? I don’t want to take your food,” Tim asks, not wanting to take Damian’s food.

“Tt. Do not be ridiculous. I make extra to put in containers for school lunches anyway, I can surely spare a bowl or two,” Damian says, rolling his eyes as if what Tim suggested was foolish. “Besides, this is a recipe even you will enjoy. I may as well help expand your limited eating horizons and provide you with proper nutrition. Pennyworth cannot force you to care for yourself forever.”

“Ok?” Tim says, deciding if he should take that as an insult or not.

He decides to write it off as Damian asking him to try his cooking. Clearly, this is something he takes great pride in, and if he wants to share it with Tim then it’s just a testament to how close they’ve gotten. It's sweet that his little brother wants to share this with him.

“Good. It will be ready shortly,” Damian says, grabbing a wooden spoon and stirring the pot.

He gives a satisfied hum as he opens one of the cabinets and takes out what looks like one of those handheld blenders (Tim doesn’t know the proper name, he just knows what they do).

Mixing the soup up, Damian stops periodically to stir it like he’s checking to see if it’s the right consistency. Maybe he is, Tim doesn’t know. He can’t read Damian’s mind.

After a couple more minutes, he rinses the attachment of the handheld blender off and puts in the dishwasher with what is probably other stuff he used to make this soup.

“Is it done?” Tim asks when he sees Damian grabbing a metal spoon from the drawer.

“Almost,” Damian says, grabbing some cayenne from the cabinet and a lemon juicer that Tim assumes is full.

Damian pours the lemon juice in and adds a dash of salt before sprinkling in the cayenne.

“Do you need something to measure that with?” Tim asks, which is clearly the wrong thing to say because Damian gives him the most offended look.

“Tt. ‘Measure’,” Damian mocks him. “I have no need for measuring. That would be a complete waste of time and utensils. Mother would scoff at such a notion.”

“Then how do you know it’s done right?” Tim asks, which seems to be mistake number two, as Damian shoots him a poisonous look.

Without saying a word, Damian dips the metal spoon into the soup and, despite it being hot, takes a bite while staring Tim right in the eyes.

“Tt. Needs more salt and lemon juice,” he says, breaking eye contact only to adjust his recipe accordingly.

Afterwards, he takes another bite, and a small smile crosses his face.

“Is that not hot?” Tim asks, worrying about how his little brother just put a hot metal spoon in his mouth.

“I turned the eye down a while ago, Drake. It’s not any hotter than your average bowl of soup,” Damian rolls his eyes.

While Tim doesn’t know if that’s true, he doesn’t have much time to wonder as Damian takes a spoonful of the soup and shoves it in his mouth.

He wants to yell at him for not warning him first, but Tim is distracted by how good the soup is.

It’s spicy, but not to the point it’s unbearable. It’s got a nice texture and good flavor, with that kick of cumin in the back of his mouth. He thinks he also tastes celery and carrots, but they’re cooked down so it blends nicely with the lentils.

“Satisfactory?” Damian asks as he pulls the soup off the eye and dishes up two bowls.

Tim can only nod as he swallows.

“That’s incredible,” he says, genuinely blown away by Damian’s cooking skills.

“Good. I expected nothing less,” Damian says proudly. “Now, help me by bringing this to the table while I finish cleaning up.”

Tim does as he’s told, as well as grabbing some spoons and napkins, and brings the two bowls of soup into the dining room. When he returns, Damian has already cleaned up (he was pretty much already done anyway, as he seems to clean as he goes) and has started the kettle.

“I put some water on for both of us,” Damian says from where he’s dividing the remainder of the soup into lunchbox-sized containers.

“Thanks,” Tim says, grabbing a bag of Earl Grey from the pantry. “What kind do you want?”

“Chamomile,” Damian says, and Tim grabs that as well.

It doesn’t take more than a minute for Damian to finish what he’s doing and by the time he has the kettle is done.

Tim pours the water and adds the bags, putting some sugar in his and honey in Damian’s. After bringing those to the table as well, he checks back in on Damian.

“You coming?” He asks.

“Yeah, I’m just grabbing some pita,” Damian says. “It’s in the top of the pantry.”

“I can get it,” Tim hums, already walking towards the pantry.

“It’s alright, I’ve got it,” Damian says, stopping in front of him and grabbing it with ease.

And that hits Tim like a school bus because, no… he shouldn’t be able to reach that. Tim struggles a bit to reach that and Tim is much taller than…

“Drake? Are you alright?” Damian asks, giving him a strange look.

A strange look at above eye level.

“You’re taller than me,” Tim mutters, looking at Damian in awe.

He always knew his little brother would be taller than him, but he wasn’t expecting it so soon! Yet here they are, Damian standing at least an inch and a half taller than Tim.

“Is this new information to you, Drake?” Damian asks, clearly not understanding why this is so monumental to Tim.

“Uh, no. I just… I guess I didn’t notice at first,” he laughs nervously. “Never mind. Let’s eat before the soup gets cold.”

Quickly turning towards the kitchen, Tim goes to sit down with Damian right behind him. He seems to have dropped this entirely, oblivious as to how this rocks Tim’s world.

Because it’s not just about Damian being taller than him, it’s about how Tim didn’t even notice he was close. Thinking back, when was the last time he really hung out with Damian? Checked up on his little brother?

He hasn’t been in the manor much recently, due to missions and work at WE, but he tries to keep up with everyone. Somehow Damian must’ve slipped through the cracks.

“Pita? I made it myself,” Damian offers the container to Tim and he takes it with a nod.

“Wow!” He says as he eats it with some of his soup. “This is good! You made this?”

“Yes I did,” Damian preens. “Over the weekend. Pennyworth helped me. He has far more experience in bread making than I do. It was very educational.”

“I see,” Tim hums as he eats, pushing down his existential crisis in favor of sharing a meal with his little brother who’s not so little anymore.

Because he’s not. He’s at least 5’8, cooking food for Tim, and making bread with Alfred. Tim knows he’s been handling more missions alone and he’s currently telling Tim about the volunteer work he’s doing at the hospital.

Sometime when Tim had his back turned, his little brother grew up. He’s already fourteen—a freshman in high school. Soon he’ll be going to college (especially since he says he wants to go into medicine) and becoming his own hero. Maybe even start dating and having a life of his own. All things that for some reason scare the shit out of Tim.

“Hey, Dames?” He says as they finish cleaning up.

“Yes?” Damian turns his head towards him.

“We should have lunch again sometime. This was fun,” Tim says. “Maybe you can even show me how to make something.”

Damian’s eyes light up at the notion, though he quickly schools his features as to not seem overly excited.

“Very well. It would be good if you could make some basic meals,” Damian says. “Though this was not lunch. This was merely my after school snack. If you wish to learn a main dish, you should come on the weekends.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Tim hums as Damian leaves to go work on homework.

After school snack? He supposes it only took about and hour to make and half an hour to eat, probably less if Tim wasn’t with him.

But Damian also ate two bowls and twice as much bread as Tim. Oh he’s definitely going through a growth spurt and will probably be giving Dick a run for his money soon.

Not that Tim’s surprised. He always knew Damian would surpass him. In fact, he thinks Damian will probably be the tallest of all of them (even if Jason rejects that theory).

After all, Bruce is 6’2 and Talia isn’t short. Tim isn’t sure how tall she is, if he had to hazard a guess he’d say around 5’8. And Ra’s is taller than Jason, so he’s got to be pushing 6’5.

Not only that, but Heretic was like 7 feet tall. Of course he was experimented on a bit more than Damian and artificially aged, which is bound to mess you up, but he’s still a practically perfect genetic template of Damian. Tim fully expects Damian to be at least Ra’s height, maybe an inch shorter due the damage to his spine.

This is going to be an adjustment.

Chapter Text

Duke drops his duffel bag on the ground and falls back onto the couch with a heavy sigh.

College sucks.

Ok, maybe he shouldn’t say that. He has been enjoying it, but exams definitely tire him out.

With his first semester at Gotham University just having wrapped up, Duke can honestly say he’s ready to be home for the holidays. He’s ready for some nice peace and relax-

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!” Bruce’s shouts make Duke jump as the man storms into the living room after an irate-looking Damian.

“It is not a big deal,” the younger says, crossing his arms over his chest with an angry pout on his face.

“Not a big deal? Damian! You could’ve been suspended! Do you know what that would do to your record?!” Bruce demands from the fifteen-year-old, making the younger roll his eyes.

“I didn’t even harm him physically!” Damian argues. “You are being dramatic.”

“And you’re being irresponsible,” Bruce fires back. “The worst part is you won’t even tell me why. This isn’t like you, Damian.”

“How do you know that?!” Damian growls at him. “You do not know what I am like. If you did, you would trust that I had a good reason to do what I did.”

“What reason could you possibly have for doing this?!” Bruce asks, a flabbergasted expression on his face.

“Tt. It was not even venomous,” the teenager rolls his eyes.

Wait, what?

“Damian, that’s beside the point,” Bruce sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just want to know why you did it. It’s hard for me to understand the situation if you won’t talk to me.”

“I should not need to,” Damian argues. “You should just trust me! Batman and Robin have to trust one another—a father and son have to trust each other!"

Damian’s voice breaks towards the end, and Bruce’s face softens, like he knows there’s more to this that Damian isn’t saying.

“I do trust you, Damian,” Bruce says, his voice remarkably calm given the circumstance. “But I can’t help you if you aren’t honest with me. And trust goes both ways. You have to trust me.”

Damian looks away from the man, who sighs again and rubs his face.

“We’ll talk about this more at dinner. For now, you’re grounded until we get this sorted out,” Bruce says, raising a hand when Damian tries to argue it’s not fair.

The man leaves, and Damian hides in frustration, dropping onto the couch next to Duke with an angry growl.

“That was… intense,” Duke says, making Damian shoot him a deadly look. “What did you do?”

Damian glares at him for a moment before letting out a breath and turning to gaze at the floor.

“I put a snake in a classmate's locker,” Damian says and…

Ok. Duke was not expecting that.

“Do not give me that look, it was just a rat snake. They are quite friendly,” Damian says. “I merely did so to teach him a lesson.”

“A lesson?” Duke frowns. “What did he do?”

“Tt. I do not see how that is any of your business, Thomas,” Damian scowls.

Well, now Duke is ten times more curious.

“Come in,” Duke says, scooting closer to tease his little brother. “What did he do? Tell me.”

“No,” Damian says flatly.

But Duke is not deterred. He’s the closest in age to Damian, and thus, he can get away with things the older ones can’t.

Such as being a complete and total nuisance who annoys information out of the youngest.

“You know I won’t leave you alone until you tell me,” Duke says, reaching out and poking Damian.

“Stop it!” Damian demands, pushes Duke away.

“Fine, have it your way,” Duke says, pretending to be upset as if he would actually give up now.

Damian seems to fall for that as he just clicks his tongue and starts scrolling his phone.

Of course, Duke scoots closer and just stares at him.

“Could you stop that?” Damian says, making Duke shoot him a look of false innocence.

“Stop what?” He plays dumb.

“Staring at me,” Damian says.

“I’m not staring at you,” Duke lies. “I’m merely gazing in your general direction.”

“That is the same thing!” Damian accuses.

“Is not,” Duke says.

“Yes, it is!” Damian growls. “You are even more difficult than Drake, Thomas!”

“Hey! I finally beat Tim at something!” Duke says, making Damian groan. “You know if you tell me what happened, I’ll leave you alone.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I probably won’t,” Duke shrugs. “But this will go a lot quicker if you just fess up.”

“What will?” Damian frowns, and Duke smiles manically.

“This!” Duke says, snatching Damian’s phone and sprinting away.

“THOMAS!” A furious Damian screams, chasing after him.

Damian may be stronger than him in battle, but Duke is definitely faster. He turns down the halls of the manor quickly, careful not to slip on any of the rugs or knock anything over as he makes his way towards the cave.

Duke ducks into Bruce’s study, only to find the man actually at his real desk and not in the cave for once. The man gives Duke a confused look just as Damian charges in.

“Father!” Damian shouts, Duke just managing to stay just out of his reach. “Thomas has taken my things!”

Bruce raises his brows as he looks between his two youngest.

“Has he told you what happened yet?” Bruce asks Duke, making Damian send him a betrayed look.

“Nope,” Duke says proudly.

“Carry on,” Bruce says, returning to his computer as Damian sputters out nonsense in anger and disbelief.

Duke hears Bruce shout out, “Don’t break anything or each other,” as he enters the cave, Damian hot on his heels.

“Thomas!” Damian shouts, finally managing to catch up to him and tackles Duke onto one of the training mats.

Duke squirms to keep Damian from grabbing his phone, his brother swearing in Arabic every time Duke manages to dodge him.

“GIVE. IT. BACK.” Damian finally demands as he manages to grab his phone.

Safe to say Duke is laughing hysterically now. Of course, he doesn’t want Damian to be upset, but he’s really missed having his siblings around. Somehow, college life is too quiet for him.

“That was not funny,” Damian glares at him. “You could’ve broken it.”

“Bruce is rich, he’d just replace it,” Duke rolls his eyes as he sits up. “So ready to tell me what happened, or do I need to resort to my other methods?”

“Tt,” Damian clicks his tongue, but he doesn’t leave, which is a good sign. “He deserved worse, but I promised Father I would not harm civilians.”

“I believe you,” Duke says, making Damian give him a skeptical look. “You’re a good judge of character, Dames. I trust your opinion on the matter.”

Damian looks at Duke mistrustfully before sighing and sitting across from him on the mat.

“This kid, Tyler Wilkins, he told me to go back to my own country,” Damian mumbles, and Duke feels like he just got hit by a freight train.

“Oh,” he says softly, unsure how to approach this.

“It was stupid,” Damian grits his teeth as he tries to look anyway but at Duke right now. “He has often made racist comments that I often can ignore, but that one… that one hurt worse, and I do not even know why. It just did.”

So this is an ongoing thing…

“Does he bother you a lot?” Duke asks.

“Lots of my peers do,” Damian shrugs. “It does not usually bother me much, but with everything going on in the world right now I have felt like I am being pushed more and more to the outside than before. I still have my friends, but the staring and the whispering have amplified. I hate it. I hate being treated like an object on display. I hate people telling me I do not belong and that Father should have never taken me in.”

“Bruce loves you,” Duke reassures Damian, despite knowing he knows that. “We all do.”

“That does not make what they say hurt less!” Damian says, eyes misty.

“I know,” Dike sighs. “And I get it, trust me, I really do. I’ve been through it too.”

“You have?” Damian asks meekly.

“Oh hell yeah,” Duke laughs. “Are you kidding? My first week at Gotham University I got asked, like, nine times if Bruce dropped me now that I wasn’t ‘his responsibility anymore’ and I was ‘aged out of foster care’. People can’t fathom why a rich white man like Bruce would bother with someone who looks like me, especially now that I’m eighteen and not making his image better with the whole ‘fostering a poor, underprivileged black kid who tragically lost his parents’.”

Duke is all too familiar with what Damian’s going through. Lucky for him, he has good friends at school who stick up for him when he doesn’t want to. He’s sure Damian’s friends do the same—that is, if they know.

He has a feeling they do, but only in a general sense. It’s clear Damian doesn’t talk about it, and often bullying happens when less people are around, so something tells Duke they don’t know the full extent.

They must not. If they did, this Tyler kid would have a broken jaw by now. Jon would make sure of it; no one fucks with the Supersons and gets away with it. Those two are incredibly protective of each other.

Oh, and Lizzie, don’t mess with her brothers or she will go all Amazonian Warrior on you.

“I am sorry that happened,” Damian says.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you,” Duke says. “But Damian, you know you can tell Bruce, right? He won’t be mad at you. In fact, I bet he’ll scale back your punishment immediately when you tell him. He’s a bit of a softie for these kinds of things.”

He’s a bit of a softie for everything to do with his kids, actually, but Damian knows that already.

“I just do not want to talk about it with him,” Damian admits. “It is not that I do not trust him, it is just that he always wishes to have conversations about these things and as hard as he tries, he just… he…”

“He doesn’t get it,” Duke finished for him.

“Yes,” Damian sighs. “He tells me that they are wrong and that their words do not matter, but they do matter to me.”

“Of course they do,” Duke says gently. “They hurt. Words have more power than most people want to admit. And Bruce doesn’t understand that, for people who look like you and me, one simple phrase isn’t just words. It’s the hatred behind them, the looks and the degrading stares that are used to make us feel like we are someone less than human because we don’t look the same as them.”

“Yes!” Damian exhales. “That is it! I have never had the words to describe it, but yes! It is not just the words, but the emotion within them.”

“And that hurts,” Duke says. “It can feel so ostracizing. But just know that I’m here. And anytime you want to talk about this, if you want advice or to just complain, I’m here. And so is Dick and Cass—I’m sure of it.”

“Thank you, Thomas,” Damian says, throwing his arms around the man and hugging him tightly.

Oh yeah, Duke missed his baby brother.

“Don’t mention it,” Duke says, standing up and extending a hand for Damian to take. “Now. You need to go tell B what happened because I have three night patrols scheduled while I’m home and there is no way in hell I’m doing those with Jay.”

“Fair enough,” Damian chuckles, taking Duke's outstretched hand.

When Duke pulls him up, he’s surprised to realize that Damian has grown quite a bit since he was last home.

In fact…

Oh hell no.

“Are you…” Duke asks, looking to where Damian’s head is at least half an inch taller than Duke’s.

“Am I what?” Damian frowns.

“Never mind,” Duke says, not wanting to make a scene. “Let’s go find B.”

While Damian explains what happened to Bruce, Duke is in a world of his own.

How did Damian our grow him already? He’s only 15! Duke should’ve had more time.

And ok, maybe Duke isn’t the tallest person alive. He’s only 5’9 and ¾ inch, 5’10 if you ask him out loud, but still. Damian shouldn’t be taller than him! He's still growing too.

Wait, Dick is only an inch taller than Duke. Oh shit, is Damian going to be taller than Dick soon?! That’s going to rock their eldest brother's world.

As fun as that existential crisis will be to watch unfold, Duke is having a minor one of his own. He leaves for college for one semester and he comes back to his little brother being taller than him?!

How is that fair?!

Bruce and Damian hug it out, much to the younger's pretend annoyance, and Duke can’t help but notice how he’s rapidly closing the height gap between him and his Father.

Duke needs to come home more often.

Chapter Text

Dick was beyond excited to go to the manor this weekend. He just got back from a mission with Dana and Wally that ran a few days long and, unfortunately, made him miss Damian’s 16th birthday.

His brother said it was fine, after all he was busy himself with Jon, Lizzie, and a couple of heroes his age (Dick lost track of who they were a while back) ‘forcing him to celebrate’, as he put it, but Dick still feels guilty.

Thankfully, they made it back in time for the family party planned for that weekend. Everyone would be home and Dick was over the moon to see his baby brother. He’s even heading over a day early to spend the afternoon with him.

It’s been so long since he’s really gotten to hang out with Damian, what with both their schedules being so busy. He couldn’t be prouder of him, but it still hurts to not see him as much. And Dick knows Damian feels the same.

Dick waits anxiously in the parking lot of Damian’s school, tapping the wheel in tune with his music as he waits for Damian to appear amongst the crowd of high schoolers.

Finally, his brother appears with Jon tagging close behind him and some girl Dick doesn’t recognize, laughing at something one of them said. Dick hums to himself, briefly wondering if Damian has any crushes at school, but then immediately throws that thought aside as the idea of his youngest brother dating makes Dick feel old.

Damian must see him and he turns to say goodbye to his friends and moves to get into Dick’s car.

“Hello Grayson,” he greets, trying to remain monotone.

The smile on his face, however, betrays him.

“Hey Little D!” Dick says, ruffling Damian’s hair.

“Grayson! Not until we are out of the parking lot!” Damian hisses at him, and Dick can’t help but laugh at his embarrassment.

“Alright. Quit acting like such a teenager,” he quips, making Damian shoot him an unimpressed look. “How was your day?”

“It was good. I got top marks on my math exam and an A+ on my English essay,” Damian says, making Dick beam with pride. “I was less successful in convincing Emily that trying to bleach and dye her hair purple with zero experience before her parents returned home would be a terrible idea, so I expect to get quite the story on Monday from her.”

“Emily?” Dick asks, that name not ringing a bell.

“One of my friends,” Damian explains. “Her, Jon, Colin, Lizzie, Sage, and I all eat lunch together.”

“Wow. That’s a lot of people,” Dick says, happy to hear Damian has such a large friend group. “I recognize Jon, Colin, and Lizzie, are the rest non-heroes?”

“Yes,” Damian says, looking towards the dashboard with a disgusted scowl. “Your music taste is abysmal.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know this musical won a Tony,” Dick says, pretending to be offended.

“Your musical theater nerd metrics mean nothing to me,” Damian teases, making Dick stick his tongue out at him.

“Why don’t you pick something then?” Dick says, gesturing to his phone.

“Really?” Damian asks, seeming surprised by the notion.

“Yeah. You’re the birthday boy,” Dick says and Damian grabs his phone eagerly.

“Pennyworth never lets me play my music in the car,” Damian says. “Father tolerates hearing it, but only when I’m training or in my room.”

“Really?” Dick asks, wondering why that is.

Last he checked, Damian’s music taste was pretty similar to Alfred’s. Classical nonsense with no words and operetta that makes Dick want to fall also.

But then again, Dick has never seen him listen to music when training, so clearly that's changed. He wonders what kind of music Damian-

Dick nearly jumps out of his seat when the loudest music starts blaring in his ear. Damian is quick to turn it down, but Dick is still a bit shocked by the… intense nature of the music.

“What song is this?” Dick asks, trying not to sound disinterested.

“It’s called ‘I Threw a Glass at My Friend’s Eyes and Now I’m on Probation’ by Destroy Boys,” Damian says.

Wow, that's a mouthful…

“It’s very energetic,” Dick says, as Damian bops his head to the music like this was some fun pop song. “What other bands do you like?”

“I am more into songs than I am into bands,” Damian says. “But if I had to choose, I would say I like the older bands.”

“Oh, like what?” Dick asks, expecting to hear ‘Iron Maiden’ or ‘The Beatles’ or maybe even ‘Metallica’.

“My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, Set it Off, retro bands like those,” Damian says, and Dick audibly chokes at that. “Fall Out Boy is probably my favorite. That’s where I went for my birthday. They were playing in Metropolis, so Jon, Sage, and I went. The others aren’t really into them like we are. I’m honestly surprised they still tour, given how ancient they are.”

“That’s wonderful,” Dick laughs awkwardly, having a life crisis at the fact that his little brother just called all of those bands old.

He’s not that old, is he?

“Ooh! I love this one!” Damian says, and Dick spares a glance at the car only to see a song called ‘It’s Ok To Punch Nazi’s’ appear.

Well, at least it's a message Dick agrees with.

When they arrive back at the manor, Damian quickly changes out of his school uniform while Dick sits in the living room and contemplates his own mortality.

“So what do you have planned?” Damian asks, entering the living room in black pants and a dark green sweater. He’s also got a necklace on and…

“When did you get your ears pierced?” Dick blanks at him.

“Oh, this?” Damian asks, feeling where his ears are pierced. “Maybe five months ago? I don’t know. Jon and I got bored one day and Father said he didn’t care so we gave each other piercings.”

Dick blinks, unsure what to say to that. He didn’t think Bruce would care; the man has no room to talk about bad ideas. Still, it’s surprising.

“How did you piece Jon’s ear?” Dick asks nervously, reminding when Tim did it to Kon with Kryptonite.

“Tt. Do not worry, Grayson. We have more common sense than Drake and his Clone Boy Toy,” another thing Dick never expected to hear from Damian. “We used red sunlight, not Kryptonite. Worked like a charm, though we had to keep doing it for a couple of weeks so they would not heal over.”

Huh. Dick supposes that would do the trick.

“Cool,” he hums. “Anyway, I was thinking you could tell me what you would like to do. We haven’t really spent much time together recently, and as much as I hate to admit it I’m not sure I really know what you’re into anymore.”

That car ride proved that.

“They have not changed too drastically,” Damian shrugs. “I still like art and animals. Nature, walking Titus in the park. Anime and manga-”

“Wait, you like anime?!” Dick asks, already getting excited.

“Yes. And manga,” Damian says. “Do you?”

“Certain ones, yes,” Dick says. “What’s your favorite?”

Damian seems to think on it a moment, clearly having trouble picking a favorite.

“I do not know my favorite, but I know my favorite genres,” he says. “I like romance and action, so lots of shonen. Slice of life is good, but only when the plot is actually intriguing and it’s not just some boring episodic thing. I’m not a fan of sports anime either.”

Romance? Dick was not expecting that. Not that he’s upset, it’s just a bit surprising to him, that’s all.

“I really like Demon Slayer for the swordsmanship and art style. Jujutsu Kaisen is wonderful and I like the Naruto manga; the show is nowhere near as good in my opinion,” Damian says. “Sailor Moon is fun.”

“I love Sailor Moon!” Dick says happily. “Have you seen any of the Studio Ghibli movies? They’re my favorites.”

“Yes, some of them. Howl's Moving Castle was good, as was Kiki’s Delivery Service and obviously Spirited Away is classic,” Damian says. “I did not like Princess Mononoke. It had a good message, but I could not watch the wolves get hurt.”

“Agreed. Have you seen Ponyo and My Neighbor Totoro?” Dick asks.

“Totoro, yes, Ponyo no,” Damian says.

“We could watch that later tonight if you’d like,” Dick offers.

“That would be satisfactory,” Damian says. “I could also show you my favorite manga shops, if you’d like. There’s a great bubble tea shop on the same street.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dick says as he stands, thankful he’s still able to connect with his brother.

Damian stands too and Dick feels his jaw drop as he looks up, yes up, at him.

It’s not a lot, maybe half an inch at most. But it’s enough to be noticeable.

“Grayson?” Damian says, looking back as he grabs his jacket. “Are you alright?”

“Uh, yeah!” He lies, because, no, he is NOT alright.

How did he not notice at first?! He probably just didn’t really think about it, since he hadn’t stood side by side with Damian until now. But boy, is it obvious now.

Damian is taller than him. Dicks baby brother is taller than him! How is this possible? That can’t be allowed?! He already has one little brother who’s outgrown him, and now he has two?!

Dick really is getting old.

Without another word, Dick follows Damian out to the car and lets him type the directions into the GPS. It’s a short drive, and Damian is relatively quiet in it, probably letting Dick focus on navigating.

Except he doesn’t focus on that. His brain is too busy realizing that his youngest brother, the baby of the family, is growing up, and Dick is missing it.

There was a time he knew everything about Damian, he knew the kid better than Bruce did. But now he doesn’t even know who Damian’s friends are, his favorite music, his interests, how he dresses, hell, he didn’t even realize the kid had a goddamn piercing.

How did he miss all of this?

Suddenly, the fact that Damian is 16 hits him like a semi-truck. He’s already 16, an age that feels wrong to associate with his baby brother. He’s 16 years old now, that number feels unreal to Dicks. He’ll be an adult in just two short years. Going to college. Moving away from home. Starting a new life.

“Grayson, that was your turn,” Damian says, giving him a worried look.

“Oh! Right, sorry,” he laughs it off.

Dick takes a deep breath and goes back to focusing on the moment. He can’t stop Damian from growing up, even if he wants to. He’ll get taller and older and wiser, and Dick shouldn’t panic because he clearly didn’t leave home for too long, Damian won’t either.

…right?

“Hey Dames?” Dick says, looking at his brother's wide green eyes after they’ve parked. “You know I love you, right?”

Damian pauses and gives him a worried look, clearly concerned about where this is coming from.

“Of course I do, Grayson,” Damian says.

“Good,” Dick let’s out a breath of relief as he ruffles Damian’s hair, getting an annoyed grumble in response. “I just wanted to make sure you knew that. Now let’s get going. I could use a drink.”

Damian huffs fondly at him referring to bubble tea as a ‘drink’, but little does he know that Dick will 100% be taking a shot later tonight after patrol to cope with this newfound realization and maybe just to see if he can still handle it.

He can’t, but he couldn’t really take it to begin with so it’s really nothing new. Tim and Babs find him sobbing to old photos in the kitchen long after Damian’s gone to bed.

But he doesn’t care. He’s too caught up in his emotions to care.

He thinks that may be the biggest burden he carries as the eldest. He’s watched all his little siblings grow up far too fast for him. He’s not sure what to do now they’re all older and don’t need him as much as they did before. Especially now that Bruce is a far more stable and involved parent. What’s next for him?

Guess it’s time he had his own kid.

Chapter Text

Jason yawns as he stretches over the back of his favorite loveseat in the library to pop his back.

He’s staying at the manor right now due to some… unforeseen events involving a rocket launcher and three of his safe houses, but he can’t really complain as he kind of needed this break.

Right now he’s in the library, curled up with a good book and some tea. Alfred always has the best blends. Speaking of which, the man said he’s making his famous beef stroganoff for dinner, something Jason is very much looking forward to.

Jason is about to go see if the man needs any help when someone enters the library calling his name.

Or more accurately, his last name.

“Todd?” Damian calls, turning to the corner to find the man. “Ah! There you are! I require your assistance for an utmost important matter!”

That gets Jason’s attention.

Damian stands before him, the 17-year-old looking stressed as his eyes silently beg Jason for help.

“What’s going on?” Jason asks, unsure what level of seriousness to take this at.

While Damian has gotten far better at asking for help over the years, he’s still the genetic offspring of Talia and Bruce. That, and quite a few other reasons, he’s not going to openly ask Jason for help unless it’s incredibly important.

“I…” Damain pauses, shifting on his feet nervously as his ears turn… pink? Is he embarrassed? He almost seems embarrassed. “I need your advice on an outfit… for a date.”

Oh.

Oh.

Jason gets it now. He’s nervous because he’s got a date. But since when did Damian date?

“Why the hell do you want my advice?” Jason asks, trying to hide his shock behind his normally gruff tone.

“Tt. Do not be ridiculous, Todd, who else would I ask?!” Damian scoffs, and Jason can’t decide if that’s a compliment or not.

He chooses to take it as one, though.

“You and I are both very much aware that the rest of this family is hopeless when dressing themselves,” Damain sneers and, well, he isn’t wrong. “Pennyworth does not know modern-day styles. Father and Cain can only do black tie formal or casual, no in between. Brown and Gordon would make me look like a child, Thomas doesn’t care much for fashion so he’s only decent, Drake actively tries to look like that to ‘make a statement’, and you and I both know that Grayson is so beyond help with his abysmal clothing choices by this point.”

“Yep. Fair,” Jason says, already closing his book. “So where ya takin’ her?”

Damian pauses, shifting on his feet again as he looks at the floor.

“I…” Damian bites his lower lip, like he isn’t sure what to say next.

“You haven’t decided?” Jason teases, but when Damian gives him a sad look, he shuts up real quick.

“I am not going out with a girl,” Damain says quietly, looking at the floor once again. “I do not find women attractive. I believe… that is to say I think…” Damian takes a deep breath, looking Jason in the eyes with a strangely determined look, like he’s scared that if he doesn’t say this now, he never will. “I am gay.”

Ok, Jason was not expecting that.

Well, ok. He wasn’t expecting that now. He can’t say he’s surprised that Damian is gay. He kind of always had his suspicions, but it’s not his place to make headcanons about his little brothers life, so he just waited to see how this would pay out.

“Alright,” Jason says. “Where are you takin’ him?”

Damian stares at him for a moment, mouth slightly agape as if he can’t believe that Jason didn’t say anything else.

“He is taking me to an aviary rescue show in Metropolis,” Damian says, darting his eyes away from Jason’s look.

Probably a good thing because that piques Jason’s interest more than anything Damian’s said so far.

“Oh? Metropolis?” He asks, raising his brows for dramatic effect as he gives Damian a smug smile. “Are you by chance going on a date with a certain half-human, half-kryptonian childhood friend?”

Damian’s face turns bright red, and Jason can’t resist laughing at him.

“Stop it!” Damian says, his face getting even redder. “Yes! Ok? I am dating Jonathan. And he asked me out. Which is why this must be perfect!”

“I’m sure whatever you wear will be fine by him, baby bat,” Jason says.

And Jason does actually believe that. It’s obvious to him that Jon’s been hopelessly into Damian for like two years now.

“Tt. That is not helpful!” Damian bites back.

His face tightens with desperation, and Jason actually feels guilty for downplaying this.

Clearly, this is very important for Damian.

“Right. Let's go dig through your closet and see what we can find,” Jason says, standing up and moving towards Damian’s room.

“So you will help?” Damian asks anxiously from behind him.

“Yep. I’ve got time on my hands anyway. Since it’s just the Cub Scout, I can reuse the shovel talk I gave Tim’s situationship. No need to plan a whole new one,” Jason jokes.

“What is a shovel talk?” Damian frowns.

“Oh, you'll find out,” Jason laughs manically.

Jason spends the next hour helping Damian pick out a stylish yet casual outfit that would be good for an indoor zoo.

The kids got some nice stuff in his closet, though Jason’s not surprised. He’s always been fashionable—something he certainly got from Talia and NOT Bruce.

“So?” Damian asks, stepping back for Jason to look at the whole fit.

“Eh,” he says, making Damian groan in frustration. “Sorry, Baby Bat, it’s just… missing something.”

Pausing, Jason studies him closely.

What does this outfit need? Maybe…

“Eureka!” Jason says, snapping his fingers at Damian. “Be right back, demon brat. Stay here.”

Damian says something on his way out, probably a complaint, but Jason is too inspired to listen. He rushes straight to his room and digs through his closet, finding exactly what he’s looking for.

“Yes!” He says, proud of himself for his genius fashion sense.

He rushes back to Damian’s room, where the brat is sitting on the bed waiting for him.

“Alright,” Jason says, tossing the jacket at Damian. “Put this on.”

“What is this?” Damian asks, looking at the jacket closely.

“It’s a black leather jacket. Don’t worry, fake leather,” Jason says. “I got it a while back, but it was too emo for me.”

“Do you think I am emo?” Damian raises his brows.

“I plead the fifth,” Jason waves him off. “But it looks good with that outfit, so just put it on.”

Damian gives him a suspicious look, but moves to do it.

“It’s loose on me, so it may be a bit big on you but-” Jason stops dead in his tracks when he sees Damian standing, looking at the jacket in the mirror.

“It fits perfectly,” Damian says, nodding in approval. “I like it.

Jason thinks he should say something, but his mind has gone blank.

Because holy shit, it does fit perfectly.

But why?! Damian is much more slender than Jason is, having a good mix of Bruce and Talia’s frames, so it should be huge. The only thing that may counteract that is…

Oh god no.

“Todd?” Damain looks over at him with a frown as the man walks closer to him.

Suddenly, he realizes something that makes his blood run cold.

“You’re fucking taller than me,” he says, jaw quite literally dropped.

Damian furrows his brows and then moves to stand perfectly straight next to Jason. Putting his hand on the top of his head, Damian moves it horizontally and it goes clean over Jason’s scalp.

“Oh, I am,” he says nonchalantly, as if this doesn’t rock Jason’s worldview. “Last I checked, I was only 5’11, I guess I grew.”

“Yeah,” Jason says, unsure what to do now.

Because his little brother is at least 6 foot 2 now.

...

Holy shit, he’s Bruce’s height.

“Hn,” Damian hums, sounding way too much like Bruce.

Seriously, Jason just thinks he got whiplash from how hard Deja Vu just hit him.

“Do I look ready for my date?” Damian asks nervously, and Jason snaps back to reality.

“Oh yeah,” Jason nods. “You’re gonna knock him dead.”

“Why would I do that?” Damian frowns, making Jason laugh.

Glad some things never change.

“Just an expression, kid,” Jason says. “I just mean he’s gonna love it.”

“You really think so?” Damian asks, biting his lip nervously.

“Of course I do,” Jason says. “He’d be a damn idiot not to. Besides, if he breaks your heart, I’ll just break his spine.”

“You will do no such thing!” Damian gawks at him.

“You’re right,” Jason nods. “I’ll have to deal with whatever’s left after Dick handles him.”

Damian squawks out his disapproval, but this is far too many emotions for Jason to deal with right now.

“I’m going to go check on some things,” Jason says. “Have fun on your date—but not too much fun.”

Damian makes a noise of disgust and embarrassment as Jason leaves.

He could lament on the fact that his little brother is growing up too fucking fast, but why would he do that? He's got more important shit to do.

Now, where did he put his kryptonite bullets? Just for show, of course. He trusts Jon.

Besides, if he did do anything to hurt Damian, well… Jason knows some people who could help him get a portal to Apokolips ready before anyone would even notice the kid was gone.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure you have everything you need?” Bruce asks, checking the checklist one more time.

“Yes, Father,” Damian groans. “You worry too much.”

“I think I worry the proper amount for someone whose child is going to college a whole state away!” Bruce says, making Damian shoot him the most unimpressed look.

“Father, I’m going to school in Metropolis. I’m less than two hours away,” Damian says.

“Could be more if traffic is bad,” Bruce points out, much to Damian’s clear annoyance.

“I will be home most weekends, and you can call me anytime. We’ve been away on missions without communication for far longer than that," Damian points out.

“It’s different,” Bruce argues. “Those were all temporary. This is so much more permanent. And what if something happens and I can’t get to you in time?”

“I have Jonathan as my roommate. Plus, his parents are in the city as well as Drake living between here and Gotham with Konner and Grandfather's friend mentoring me,” Damian says, rolling his eyes. “I will be fine, Father. Besides, Titus will protect me. Won’t you, boy?”

The eight-year-old dog (who may or may not have stopped aging after Talia ‘treated’ him when he had heart problems three years ago, Bruce really doesn’t want to ask) wags his tail happily, and Bruce sighs, knowing Damian is right.

He’s set him up in a good apartment on campus with plenty of security and a way for Jon to get in and out as Superboy as well as Damian as Robin if he decides to help out. Damian will be home on weekends when possible to continue his training to become Batman one day and he really isn’t going to be too far away.

But it hurts Bruce all the same to think of his baby not being here every night anymore. Even if he knows he’s being irrational.

“Father,” Damian says, giving him a sad look. “I am not leaving you for good. I promise. I will be right here.”

Bruce feels his eyes fill with tears, quickly wiping them on his sleeve.

“I know,” he says, his voice breaking a bit as he speaks. “I just.. I’m going to miss you.”

“I will miss you too,” Damian says. “But this is not goodbye. I still need you. I will always need you.”

And that does it. The floodgates open, and Bruce pulls Damian against his chest like he used to do when he was little.

Only this time, Damian’s chin rests next to Bruce’s ear.

He knows logically his son outgrew him a while ago. The 18-year-old had a massive growth spurt in the last year and is now sitting at 6’4, with Leslie saying there is a chance he could even grow another inch, though he’s probably done. But it didn’t really affect him, at least not until now.

Standing here right now with Damian holding him and not the other way around, the truth is so clear that it breaks him. His baby is all grown up. He’s a strong, independent man and Bruce couldn’t be prouder of him.

“I love you so much,” he says, wiping his tears as he lets go.

“I love you too,” Damian says, tears of his own forming. “Now please leave, I have a seven am class tomorrow, and it’s already eleven pm.”

Bruce laughs sadly as he scratches Titus’s head and leaves.

His last Robin has left the nest, but he’s learned that if he gives them space to grow, they’ll return. And when they do, he gets to hear all they’ve accomplished and see the wonderful people they’ve grown into.