Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10946388.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Batman_(Comics), DCU_(Comics), Batman_-_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      Damian_Wayne_&_Jason_Todd, Dick_Grayson_&_Damian_Wayne, Tim_Drake_&
      Damian_Wayne_&_Jason_Todd_&_Dick_Grayson, Tim_Drake/Damian_Wayne
  Character:
      Tim_Drake, Damian_Wayne, Dick_Grayson, Jason_Todd, Bruce_Wayne, Stephanie
      Brown, Alfred_Pennyworth
  Additional Tags:
      Underage_Sex, Tim_is_an_adult_and_Damian_is_not, Brotherly_Bonding,
      Mpreg, Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Yeah_I_know_that_old_thing_but_wtf,
      read_the_notes, Steph_makes_a_brief_cameo, Kon_as_well, Family_Feels,
      Angst, Feels, and_fluff, Smut, almost_forgot_the_smut, these_boys_deserve
      to_be_happy_dammit!, Bruce_Wayne_is_trying_okay_you_guys_he_really_is,
      not_sure_how_well_it's_going_though
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-05-19 Words: 20655
****** The World We Have Build ******
by Skrigget
Summary
     Damian curses loudly as he stares down at the pregnancy test he's
     holding in a tight grip. What is he suppose to do with this, he
     wonders, as he sighs heavily and notices that his hands are shaking
     slightly. He inhales sharply and forces his breathing to remain calm.
     **
     Basically: Damian is pregnant (he hadn't planned this, far from),
     he's seventeen (this much happened by itself), an omega (which he
     hates because Mother and Father are both alphas) and the baby is Tim
     Drake's (well, the unborn baby is Damian's but still) and all of this
     could prove problematic. Very, very problematic actually.
Notes
     Sooo here we go. I haven't posted a story in over a year so that's
     great. Anyways, just FYI this isn't beta read, all mistakes are my
     own, blah blah blah.
     ALSO: so seriously where I'm from when you're sixteen you can sex
     with people who are sixteen and older legally so that's just what I
     grew up with. NEVERTHELESS that does not mean I generally approve of
     relationships between between someone under 18 and some over. Far
     from it, actually. I'm just saying. It is a work of fiction, please
     do not read it as my own feelings on the subject, okay?
     Anywho.
     Enjoy!
See the end of the work for more notes
                  "The world that we have build            
                         For just the two of us        
                          Is finally fulfilled        
                            And yet it turns to dust"
 
"Fuck," Damian curses loudly as he stares down at the pregnancy test he's
holding in a tight grip. What the fuck is he supposed to do with this, he
wonders, as he sighs heavily and notices that his hands are shaking slightly.
He inhales sharply and forces his breathing to remain calm.  
He will not overreact, he simply will not allow himself. He is a Wayne, an al
Ghul, he is Robin. He  is born and bread not to overreact to something so
stupid as a positive pregnancy test because obviously it's lying. There is
clearly no other explanation, this is the only logical deduction to make.
Damian may be an omega (something that still makes his inside churn and
something in his chest tighten), but he hadn't been with an alpha. He hadn't
been with anyone other than...  
He places the test abruptly next to the five others he's already taken and
stares at them all with a scowl on his face, as if he can simply threaten them
to turn negative if he stares at them hard enough.  
Ten minutes later and they are still lying on the porcelain sink in his private
bathroom of the manor, all of them still showing positive and Damian swallows
hard. He turns around, opens another box and takes out two new sticks. He grabs
his water bottle and drowns the half-litter of water quickly, waiting for it to
kick in.  
When he sits down on the toilet, waiting, he stares at the six tests lying
there, mocking him. He growls and clutches the two new tests in his hand and
tells himself that one of them will prove negative and show that, clearly, he
is not in fact seventeen and pregnant.  
Half an hour later, the two pregnancy tests have joined the six others and
they're all showing the same result. Damian is starting to panic just a little
bit. He continues to glare at them for another half hour before he makes a loud
frustrated noise and put them all back in their boxes and hides them under the
sink, not wanting Pennyworth to accidently find them.  
He finally, after more than two hours, leave the bathroom. He immediately lies
down on his bed, starring at his ceiling.  
He has no idea what to do. This is all insane, he think. He will have to go a
doctor, obviously, before he can be absolutely certain. And until then he will
not tell anyone, maybe except... 
"Damian!" He hears Tim shout from the other side of the door. "Dinner is
ready." 
"Not hungry," Damian growls out, annoyed, at his adoptive older brother.  
"Alfred says, if you don't come downstairs, no one is having dinner." 
"I don't know why you think this bit of information would make a difference to
me, Drake," Damian says as he stares at the door. He sees the handle rattle but
it is locked.  
"Oh for fucks... Damian!" He shouts. "Stop being a baby and come out here." 
Damian can't help it, he lets out a pathetic whine at the word and curls in on
himself. He instantly hates himself for it, especially when Tim says, "Damian?"
A lot more quietly, now. "Are you okay? You sick?"  
"I'm fine, now go away!" Damian shuts his eyes, lets his fingernails dig into
palms angrily, willing, with all his might, that Tim will just leave him alone
already!  
"Damian are you... is that blood I smell?" And Tim sounds alarmed now.  
Damian curses in Arabic when he notices that it is, indeed, blood. He uncurls
his fists and looks at the stains of blood in his hands. It's nothing bad, but
enough to alert Tim on other side that he isn't in fact okay and – predictably
– the beta isn't going to leave him alone now.  
Damian sighs heavily.  
"Damian?" Tim says and this time it’s a small sound, questioning and unsure and
Damian hates it.  
"I'm... fine," he insists, a little less frustrated this time. "Just not
hungry. Okay?" 
Tim sighs. "Okay. But... if there's something wrong - " 
"I just told you, I am perfectly fine." 
Tim says nothing more before he turns around and leaves. Damian gets up from
the bed then, goes back into the bathroom to wash the blood from his hands and
underneath his fingernails before it dries. Then, when he is in there, he grabs
the new box (his last one) and takes out another two pregnancy test because, at
this point, what's the point of saving two anyways.  
When they both show positive, he throws them out along with the box and goes
back to his bed. On the way, he grabs a random book to try and distract himself
with.  
It works for about ten minutes but then his thoughts start to drift anew.  
If he is pregnant – which he mostly likely is, he might as well admit as this
point – then there is only really one person who the kid can belong to. He
stares down at the five tiny cuts in his left palm from his own fingers and
thinks about Timothy.  
His older brother by seven years – also possibly the father to his maybe,
probably child.  
He groans and stares down at the book again. Its hard to focus though, the
words keep mingling together, he has to re-read sentences so many times its
actually stupid.  
About five minutes later, there's a knock on the door.  
He inhales and can instantly tell its Dick.  
"What is it," he says, flatly.  
"Tim says you're sick." Dick sounds worried, Damian notices. It makes him want
to scream, although he would never do it, obviously.  
"Drake should learn to mind his own business," Damian snaps back, more out of
habit than anything. Tim and him, they don't hate each other anymore. Far from.
Haven't hated each other in years. The rest of the family still seem to think
they cannot stand to be around each other for too long periods of time and
have, apparently, all missed how their annoying banter has simply become their
way of communicating. Most of the time, anyways. Other times... 
"Dami?"  
"What is the matter, Grayson?" He asks.  
"I'm just worried," he answers, predictably. "Also, be nice to Tim." 
Damian barely refrains from snorting.  
"Can I come in?" 
Damian thinks about it. Grayson is one of the few people whose company Damian
actually enjoy, not just tolerate. He likes the way Grayson seem to know him
better than anyone else. The only downside to Grayson is that he enjoys hugging
and although Damian can usually accept a brief embrace from his older brother,
he simply isn't in the mood today. If Grayson so much as touches him right now,
he is actually uncertain of what he will do. Throw up, maybe.  
"Dami?" And he sounds even more worried this time. "Please?" 
"No, you may not," Damian answers. "This is overreacting. I am perfectly fine.
Just a stomach problem, it will pass quickly." 
"Are you sure?" Grayson continues uncertainly. "I will grab you some pills - " 
"Grayson, stop it," Damian snaps. "I'm fine, now leave me be." 
His words are followed by a very long silence from the beta. Finally, he sighs.
"I don't believe you, little D. But, I will respect your privacy. However, if
you're still not feeling well tomorrow you have to let me help you, okay?" 
"That is certainly not okay, no," Damian answers.  
"That's a deal, then," Grayson continues, ignoring Damian's protest easily.  
"Grayson - " 
"Goodnight, little D, get some sleep." 
Damian glares at the done, then he finally accepts defeat. "Fine," he says.
"Will you be staying at the manor tonight, then?"  
"Yep. Come find me if there is anything else, alright?" The oldest says.  
"I will continue to claim that I am perfectly fine." Damian furrows his
eyebrows. "Are any others staying at the manor tonight?" 
"Tim is, at the time. He's working on a case with Bruce. He might be staying
over for a week or more."  
Damian cannot help but growl – a whine, a sounds of need, of desperation, he
cannot help but let out at that thought alone.  
Grayson sighs, "be nice to him," he says, having immediately
misinterpreting the noise.  
"Goodnight," Damian says stiffly.  
Grayson snorts a laugh. "Night, little D. And I mean it, if there is anything,
right, anything at all, come find me." 
For a brief second Damian glances to the bathroom door and thinks about what's
hidden in there, under the sink, in the little blue boxes.  
"Yes," he simply says and hears Grayson retreat back to either his own room or
the bat cave. Damian does not care. Most likely Grayson is going to inform
Father that he will not join patrol tonight.  
Damian sighs again and forces his attention back to the book once more.  
** 
When the lock on his door is picked, Damian is already wide awake, unable to
sleep. He is sitting in almost complete darkness, looking out of the window
absentmindedly. He turns his attention back to the door and watches it.  
He is not worried. Any one trying to get into his room must be someone from his
family. He can defend himself against whoever it is but mostly won't have to.
Whoever it is probably thinks he isn't awake and just wants to check in on him.
His family can be entirely too overprotective sometimes. Its either Grayson or
Father, he reasons. Or, maybe, its -  
The door opens slowly and a figure creeps into the room silently. The door
closes behind him with barely a sound. The person turns around.  
"Hello, Drake," Damian says dryly.  
"Sweet fuck," Tim curses and turns on the light suddenly. "I thought you were
asleep, Damian." 
Damian snorts. "Well, clearly I am not." 
"Clearly," Tim agrees. Then he steps into the room further. He is wearing
slacks and a loose t-shirt, his hair wet from a shower.  
"What do you want, Drake?" Damian asks annoyed.  
Tim snorts, amused. "Drop the attitude, Damian." He stretches and yawns. "I
just wanted to check up on you, you sounded distressed earlier." 
"You should be in bed," Damian says. "Its past four in the morning already." 
"Yes," Tim nods. "I was thinking about crashing in yours, actually." 
"Father will notice," Damian says instantly.  
"Hardly," Tim shoots back as he sits down on the edge of Damian's bed and takes
off his shoes.  
"Alfred, then," Damian continues.  
"More likely, yes," Timothy agrees before he falls back on his back, with his
arms out to the side. He turns his head to look at the younger boy. "Relax," he
says, "I really just wanted to check on you. I will only lie here for a
second." 
"You can rest here for a few hours, if you want," Damian says before he can
stop himself and instantly hates the words.  
Tim grins wickedly and sits up.  
"Aw, you do love me, baby bat," he says.  
Damian rolls his eyes but looks away. His stomach feels like its inside out.
His is biting down on his tongue, hard, and curling his hands into fists to
prevent them from shaking.  
"You sure you ok, Dami?" Tim asks quietly.  
"Yes," Damian snaps, still not looking at him.  
"Not sure I believe you," Tim says. "But I need to go to the bathroom. If
you're still awake when I come back we're going to talk about what's bothering
you, baby bat." 
"I already said - " 
"And I really don't believe your bullshit," Tim only dismisses him as he gets
up and walks into the bathroom. Damian growls before he closes his eyes. Shit,
he thinks. He is torn. He wants to beg Tim to hold him tight, to run his lips
over his, to grip his hips and never let ago. At the same time he feels
oversensitive and is afraid he will bolt if Tim actually attempts to comfort
him through physical touches.  
He thinks about this when all of the sudden the bathroom door bolts open and
Damian turn to stare at Tim who - 
Is standing in the doorway, his eyes comically wide, his lips tight and almost
white, the light from the bathroom illuminating him and in his hand he
holds the two pregnancy tests that Damian throw out instead of hiding. He
curses himself.  
"Damian - " 
"No," he says. He notices how his voice is hoarse and almost raw. It sounds
like he's been screaming for hours. In his chest he can feel something tighten
again and in his throat he feels a lump that Damian tries to swallow
instantly.  
"These are...." Tim's voice dies out. "These are - " 
"I know what they are!" Damian snaps and he hates how his voice shakes and
breaks on the last word. He looks away again when he feels actual tears rise in
his eyes. He bites down on his lower lip and hates himself for being this week.
He furrows his eyebrows. He wants to be anywhere else but there, in this
moment. He wants to run, he wants hide, he wants to, he wants to -  
"Damian, please," and Tim's voice breaks, too. It makes Damian's heart ache.  
"Go away," Damian commands then but it comes out more like he's begging.  
"I'll... I'll do whatever you want," Tim says then as he takes a few steps
closer to the bed. Damian's shoulders tighten and he sets his jaw as he snaps
his attention back to the older boy. Tim freezes half-way and opens his mouth
but doesn't speak. There is a heavy silence between the omega and the beta for
long, too long, and it threatens to strangle Damian. He has to grit his teeth
not to whimper. He longs to reach out and touch Tim, hold his hand and kiss his
temple but he.... can't.  
"Just... tell me... is..." Tim swallows hard, looks down as the tests in his
hand and then back up to Damian's face. When Tim sees the tears in Damian's
eyes he stumbles another few steps forward before he suddenly sits back down on
the bed. Too close, yet too far away. Damian is trying to breathe slowly,
controlled, but he is so scared. This is too soon, he hasn't had time to
process any of this and already Tim is sitting there and he wants answers and
he, of all people, deserves answers, too.  
"Is..." He swallows again. "Is it mine?"  
And, without thinking, Damian growls out, "it's mine," with a ferocity that
stunts both of them.  
Tim recovers quickly. He nods and reaches out. Slowly, so slowly that Damian
can turn the touch down if he wants to. Damian watches the long, white fingers
as they settle on his shoulder. He swallows but doesn’t tell Tim to take the
hand away.  
"Of course it is," Tim says then, surprising Damian. "It's yours. But... I
mean...." 
"Yes," Damian hears himself whisper then. "It's yours, too." 
Tim is staring at him but Damian is looking at his own hands, still shaking. He
doesn't even realise there are tears streaming down his face before Tim reaches
out slowly and brushes them away with his thumb. Tim is holding his face
between his hands and neither of them are saying anything, both unsure and
scared. Damian is terrified in a way he has never been before.  
"It's going to be fine," Tim says, "one way or another."  
"Don't be daft," Damian snaps, glaring at him, tears still streaming down his
face. "I'm seventeen years old, Tim. Seventeen and I'm... I'm pregnant." 
Tim doesn't say anything. This is the good thing about Drake (one if many),
Damian thinks. Tim is honest. He is not unkind, far from, but there's a
sharpness to him that means that he will not lie, not even to comfort people
and especially not people like Damian. Instead he simply leans forward and
kisses his forehead in an entirely too tender touch that makes the tears stream
faster.  
"At least you're not alone," Tim finally says after a long while of silence.
"You have me." 
Damian meets his eyes. "How sickeningly romantic, Drake," Damian says.  
Tim laughs. "Don't be an asshole," he says and then he kisses his forehead
again. "Now, do you want me to stay or leave? I'll do whatever you want." 
Damian takes a long time to think about this before he finally leans forward as
well and brushes his lips against Tim's. "Stay," he whispers against them.  
"Sure," Tim agrees and then kisses Damian properly. Its far more tender than
their kisses usually are but in this moment Damian doesn't mind. He falls back
on the bed, Tim straddling his hips as they continue to kiss for a little while
longer.  
Kissing Tim feels like... coming home, there's no other way to explain it, and
Damian hates it, but loves it all the same. Somewhere down the road this
agreement they made about sex has turned into something more. Something that
makes Damian think of the soft glow of a sunrise and the smell of the world
after rain when he kisses Tim's mouth. Something that makes Damian think that
Tim's hands where made just for him. He's never said any of this out loud. With
the two of them they don't have to. They can hold entire conversation by just
looking at one another and maybe that's why their family still think they hate
one another, because their most important conversations are not necessarily
spoken through words.  
Tim falls to the side but lets on arm lie over Damian, his fingers gripping his
hip almost desperately. Damian turns his head to look at the older.  
"Sleep," Tim demands.  
"You can't tell me what to do," Damian shoots back instantly.  
"Of course I can," Tim mumbles, his eyes closing slowly. "I love you, after
all." 
Damian doesn't smile until he's sure Tim's eyes are closed entirely, but when
he speaks, he's sure Tim can hear the smile in his voice anyway: "There you go
again, being disgustingly romantic, Drake." 
"Go to sleep," Tim says with a sigh. "We'll figure everything out in the
morning. After coffee." 
"Optimism doesn't suit you." 
"Honesty does, though." 
"Really, Drake?" 
Tim sighs and looks at Damian with half-open eyes. "Do you want me to stay
awake with you?" He asks.  
"No," Damian answers. "Sleep." 
"You can't tell me what to do," Tim mimics his earlier words.  
"Childish," Damian says and closes his eyes, a sudden tiredness taking hold of
his body.  
"Mmmmh," Tim only mumbles and a few seconds later he's asleep. Damian follows,
just moments later.  
** 
The next person to find out is – to Damian's horror – none other than Jason
Todd. Their older brother decides, for reasons unknown to Damian at that
moment, to wake his younger brothers at six o'clock the next morning. They've
hardly slept more than a few hours, at most, when the door bursts open and they
bolt awake so suddenly it almost physically hurts.  
"Morning, morning, baby bat," Jason sings loudly, "do you know what day it - "
and when he stops midsentence it's not hard to guess why. He is starring at
Tim, who's sitting up in the bed next to Damian, his hair sticking out, his
blue eyes heavy with sleep.  
"Holy fuck," Todd whispers and then whistles. "I did not see this coming," he
admits, sounding actually impressed.  
"Todd," Damian snarls, his heart beating too fast in his chest. "What do you
think you're doing at this horrid hour?" 
"Oh, I was just waking you up so you could help me prepare breakfast for Alfred
before he wakes up. Its his birthday, after all." 
Jason tilts his head as he stares at his two younger brothers, lying next to
each other in Damian's bed. "Well, you are both wearing clothes at least," he
says cheerily, apparently not alarmed in the least at the sight in front of
him.  
"Jesus, Jay," Tim groans.  
"I was not aware you wanted us to prepare Pennyworth's breakfast," Damian
says.  
"No, I'm sure," Jason only snorts. "Did you get him presents, at least?" 
"Obviously," Damian snaps.  
"Ah," Jason says, "not entirely heartless then, demon baby." 
"I'm not - " 
"Seriously Jay," Tim sighs, "can you leave?" 
"What?" Jason says in mock-outrage and steps further into the room, "it's
almost like you don't want me here." 
"You imbecile," Damian snarls.  
"That's no way to address your brother, Dami," Jason grins. "Especially not a
brother who has the potential to make family dinners very awkward if he
happened to slip this piece of information to someone like, I don't know,
daddy-o or Dickiebird or -" 
"You really are - " 
"Jay," Tim pleads, interrupting Damian once more. Damian turns to glare at the
other boy in the bed. "Can you just.... not say anything?"  
"Hm," Jason hums, pretending to think about it. "I don't see why I shouldn't." 
"We'll come downstairs and help with the bloody breakfast, okay?" Tim snaps.  
"I don't know," Jason continues to hum thoughtful. "Uh," he suddenly sings.
"What is this? Are you two using toys?"  
And Damian watches as Jason suddenly crosses the distance to the bed in three
long strides before he snatches the two pregnancy tests from the floor where
Tim dropped them just a few hours ago. It already feels like a lifetime ago.
And it really says something about how tired they both are that they are too
slow to grab the tests before their brother.  
"Jay - " 
"Todd!"  
"Well, well," Jason grins, "what sort of..." His voice dies out when he
realises just what he's holding. He suddenly stares at his brothers with his
mouth half-open. "Holy shit," he whispers. Then he looks over his shoulder at
the door and, quickly, he walks over and closes it before he turns back around
to Tim and Damian who are staring at him. Tim swallows hard, his teeth worrying
his lower lip. Damian's face is wearing its usual scowl but Jason can see the
fear in his little brother's eyes.  
"Jay," Tim says. "Can you just... not?" 
"Jesus fuck, Tim, these are fucking pregnancy tests!" 
"I know that!" Tim snaps back.  
"Positive," Jason says, waving them around, "positive pregnancy tests, mind
you." 
"I know," Tim says again. "Jesus do you think I don't know?" 
"I just... fuck." He looks at Damian then, his youngest brother and, with an
almost sad look on his face, whispers, "fuck," once more before he leans
against the door, looking oddly defeated. To be fair, it’s a lot of information
to take in, in just a few minutes as well.  
"It's you, I'm guessing," Jason says, nodding at Damian.  
"None of your business, Todd," Damian snarls, but he doesn't deny it. What's
the point, he thinks. It's so obvious. It cannot be Tim, he is a beta, just
like Jason and Dick and about 70 percent of the world's population. It's only
Damian who is a weak omega of all thinks. Born of two alphas – something very
rare – and yet he is a fucking omega.  
"How?" Jason asks. "You're a beta," he addresses Tim. Then he winces. "Unless,
I mean, is it yours? I can't be, can I?" 
"It's ours," Tim mumbles, glancing at Damian who is only starring at the tests
in Jason's hand. "It's... possible. It's just rare." 
"That's the fucking understatement of the year," Jason says. "Fuck." 
"So you've said," Damian says.  
"I mean, shit, fuck," Jason cursed, "are you guys not freaking out? I'm fucking
freaking out. What the hell will Bat say when he founds out? Shit, Timmy, you
are in big trouble." 
"Jason, shut the fuck up!" Tim snaps then and gets up from the bed, glaring
daggers at the older man. "You're not fucking helping." 
Jason inhales sharply and looks at Damian who's pointily not looking at either
of them at the moment.  He looks at his little brother's permanent frown, his
dry lips and the look in eyes. Jason sighs heavily.  
"Sorry," he says, earnestly. "I didn't mean to... flip, like that. Just caught
me off guard. Sorry." 
"Just... go down and make Alfred's breakfast," Tim snaps, glancing at Damian
and then back to Jason. "Please?" 
"No, yeah, of course," he nods. Then he sighs again. "Look... it will be fine.
I mean," he grimaces, "It's probably gonna fucking suck balls for a while - "
(Tim cannot help but snort and mumble: "such a way with words," but Jason
ignores him), "but I will be fine. No matter what you decide to do. Damian," he
says gently, making the youngest glare at him. "Its your choice, you know that
right?" 
"I know that," he snaps.  
"Only your choice, baby bird. No one else's." Jason glares at Tim then who lift
both his eyebrows and returns the glare. "Not even Timmy's." 
"Hey," Tim says, "what are you implying?" 
"I'm not implying anything, I'm just making sure he knows - "  
"I know," Damian insists.  
" - that it's his decision and his alone." Jason continues to glare at Tim who
continues to glare back.  
"What," Tim snorts, "you saying I'm going to force him into doing something he
doesn't want to?" 
"What? Of course not," Jason says. "I'm just saying, he's seventeen fucking
years old and you are twenty-four. In a lot of places – including Gotham –
that's not even legal."  
"Jay, I didn't," Tim swallows, obviously torn between guilt and anger, "I
didn't..." 
"Shit, Tim, I know that." Jason quickly puts a reassuring hand on his brother's
shoulder. "I don't think you did, Jesus, I'm not the Bat." 
Tim flinches and Damian looks out the window.  
"Shit, bad example," he mumbles. "I'm fucking this up," he declares.  
"Understatement," Damian says, "but at least you can see the light in your own
foolishness." 
"Demon brat, shut up," Jason says. "I'm just saying... I don't know. Just...
whatever you decide, I guess, you can count on me."  
"You sounds like one of the foolish movies Grayson keep insisting we waste our
time watching," Damian says.  
"Yep," Jason agrees. "But its true. You can count on me." 
There's a long while of silence between the three brothers where they just sort
of each try to piece together all the information drifting around in the air
between them like butterflies. Damian looks out of the window again, unsure of
how to feel. He has never truly felt this way before and it is unsettling, to
say the least. To feel this lost in his own world, to feel so out of place in
his body all of the sudden.  
"I'll give you guys some peace," Jason declares and turns around.  
"Yeah, thanks," Tim says. "And, Jason? Thank you." 
Jason just grins, glances at Damian with a worried look, looks back at Tim and
then nods before he disappears again.  
With a heavy sigh Tim sits down on the edge of the bed.  
"Dami?" Tim says. "You okay?"  
Damian turns his attention to his brother. "Thinking."  
"Don't stress yourself," Tim snorts. Then, "sorry. What's wrong?" 
"Is that question really necessary?" Damian says.  
Tim flinches. Then he puts a hand on Damian's face, leans forward and kisses
him because he has no idea of what else to do, Damian can tell; he can
practically taste Tim's desperation and confusion and hunger for answers to his
questions in the brush of his lips and on the tip of his tongue. 
Damian kisses back, trying to reassure him that it will be fine, because it has
to. They've been trough too much, too many years, hard, horrible years, for
this, this, to be something that will destroy anything. Damian won't let it.  
They don't say anything. They just kiss; hungrily, like they'll never get the
chance again. Then Tim pulls away, tilts his head a bit and gives Damian a
little smirk.  
"Dick will be waiting downstairs," he said. "We should go and join him before
he decides to come check on you." He gets up and grabs his shoes. 
Damian follows him up.  
** 
Damian reads the newspaper article, again, before he slams it down on the table
in annoyance. His Father doesn't look up from the reports he are reading while
sipping fresh, black coffee and hardly touching his eggs. If the way Pennyworth
is glaring subtly at his head, this is a bad idea. Damian refrains a snort and
stares down at the article again.  
Wayne brothers at gale: sibling-love at its best 
He snarls at it before he grabs his cop of tea almost forcefully and drowns the
rest of it in one go.  
"Master Damian," Pennyworth says then, "are you quite alright?" 
"I'm perfectly fine, thank you," Damian answers.  
"Is the article bothering you, for some reason?" He continues on.  
Damian glances at the headline again and then at the picture of him and Tim.
Tim is pushing him, an almost fond smirk on his lips. Damian brows are
furrowed, and he's clearly telling Tim off for pushing him but his eyes are
almost sparkling and he's smiling.  
"No, why would it?" Damian question.  
"What's wrong?" Father finally decides to chime in, catching the attention of
both his son and butler. "What's with the article?" 
"Nothing, Father," Damian says.  
"May I see it?" 
Damian hands it to his Father, who reads it quickly, looking at the picture for
a second or two. "Honestly, Damian," he then sighs. "Are you actually upset
because someone wrote an article about you an Tim?" 
Damian rolls his eyes – hard. "I already told Pennyworth, I'm not bothered by
it." 
"No I would hope not," Father says with narrowed eyes, "because if you're angry
the reporters think you and Tim actually enjoy each company, god forbid, then
that is extremely childish." 
"I already told you, I'm not bothered by it!" He yells and stands abruptly.  
"Damian!" Father says angrily.  
"I'm going to my room," he snarls as he turns around and leaves.  
"Damian!" Father shouts once more but he doesn't get up to follow him.  
Damian is stomping his way through the manor towards his room, his eyes
straight ahead, glaring at anything they land on. He knows why he's acting like
this. It's because the article had underlined yet another one of Damian's
newfound fears: brothers, sibling-love. Because that's not what they are, not
what's going on between them at all. They have never been brothers. Not in the
way they both see Dick as their older brother, even Jason. They hated each to
begin with, so much so that they could hardly stand to be in the same room
together. It had changed, over time. Especially when Damian had died. After
that, Tim would sometimes come into the library when he was sitting there and
simply place himself on the couch next to the younger. They would hardly ever
speak, they would just sit in silence and think. Damian would feel calmer,
knowing that he wasn't alone. It was probably the same for Tim. The older had
been through a lot as well. Heart ache, death, grief and sorrow.  
Damian cannot pinpoint when his hatred towards Tim turned into a frustrated
anger because of the crush Damian was developing on a boy who, in the eyes of
the world and their family, was his brother despite of everything. It also
doesn't help that, every time they did have a falling out, Dick and Father
would make a point to remind them.  
"You are brothers," one of them would say, equally disappointed. "You are
family." 
Especially after they started fucking around, conversations like that had been
awkward and frustrating as hell to say the least.  
Damian turns a corner with a low growl spilling from his lips and almost
collides with another body.  
"Wow, hello there," a familiar voice says. "Damian." 
"Tim," Damian says back. The older tilts his head, a subtly smile lurking on
his lips.  
"Hi," he says.  
"Hello," Damian greets back. "Is something the matter?" 
"Funny, I was just about to ask you that," Tim says.  
Damian leans forward and rests his forehead against Tim's. They are silent for
a while. Tim has put his arms around Damian who in turn is holding onto Tim's
waist with digging fingers.  
"You okay?" Tim whispers.  
"No," Damian answers bluntly. "Are you?" 
Tim flinches and Damian's heart aches again. "I want to be," he mumbles.  
"We will be, then," Damian concludes.  
Tim puffs out a short burst of laughter. "Okay then," he says. Then he leans
back and properly look at Damian. He moves one hand to the younger's forehead
and smooths out the wrinkle forming between Damian's eyebrows with his thump.  
"Timothy," Damian says, very serious, "when was the last time you slept?" 
Tim meets his eyes. They are red and the skin under them is blue and black. He
looks like he's been in a fight but Damian's been doing patrol the last couple
of nights, not Tim.  
"I'm fine," he snaps on instinct and then swallows hard. "Sorry," he mumbles.
"When did Jason wake us?" 
Damian furrows his eyebrows again. "Two days ago." 
"Ah," Tim says. "Then two days ago." 
"You're a retarded person, Drake, why Father ever thought you could be
considered a Wayne Is truly beyond me." 
Tim's only responds is a dry snort.  
"Go to bed," Damian says, "now." 
"I have reports to finish," Tim says and steps back. "Scarecrow - " 
"Can probably wait a few hours," Damian argues.  
"Probably not, no," Tim says. He quickly leans forward and kisses Damian's
nose. "Sorry, but no."  
Damian opens his mouth to argue but in that moment they can hear footstep
approach and Damian gives up with a reluctant snarl. Tim rolls his eyes and
steps around the younger boy.  
Tim doesn't baby him, not ever, not even now, and that is one of Damian's
favourite things about him. It doesn't mean it doesn't make him furious as hell
to watch the boy walk down the corridor and into the study to continue this
self-destructive path he is currently on. Dick once said that Damian and Tim
very more alike then they wanted to admit.  
"You deal with things the same way," he'd said. "It may not seem like it, but
you do, essentially. Tim works himself so exhausted it's a miracle he doesn't
pass out and you, well, you beat up the poor training dolls in the cave to a
point it’s a wonder you don't pass out as well." 
Damian hadn't bothered to answer his older brother because sometimes it more
trouble then its worth. 
"Damian," speaking of the devil. Grayson wraps an arm around Damian's
shoulders. "Feeling better?"  
"Immensely," he answers.  
"Awesome," Grayson says. "Then you up for some training down in the cave with
me?"  
Damian resigns to a nod and follow Grayson downstairs. He curls his fists not
to put them on his stomach without meaning to. When he's been on patrol these
last couple of nights he's been more careful then ever before in his life, made
sure not to get kicked in or accidently land on his stomach. He knows he will
do the same now and if he's not careful Grayson will notice and ask questions.
But if he refuses Grayson will think he's still sick and demand Pennyworth
makes a full check-up on him and that is the last thing he needs. Right now, at
least.  
"Were you and Tim arguing again?" Grayson voice snaps him out of his
thoughts.  
"We can manage to actually hold civil conversations without biting each other's
heads off, believe it or not, Grayson," Damian says, frustration lingering at
the edge of his voice. He curls his fists further.  
"I never said you couldn't," Grayson replies instantly, not bothered by
Damian's sharp tone of voice. "It's just rare is all. And Bruce mentioned
something about an article - " 
"Father really ought to not read too much into situations where there's nothing
to read into," Damian answers sharply.  
Grayson snorts in agreement. "He can't," he says, "it's his instinct." 
"As an alpha?" Damian practically spits the word. 
"As Batman," Grayson corrects.  
** 
An hour later, when Damian once again lands on his back, snarling, Grayson
looks at him with a tilted head rather than offering him a helping hand like
before.  
"Something is wrong, Little D," he says. "Why won't you tell me?" 
"Because there is nothing wrong, I've told you," the omega answers back
instantly.  
"Not true," Grayson says when he finally offers Damian a hand. The omega eyes
it for a second or two before he accepts it. He realizes his mistake when
Grayson hauls Damian to his feet so suddenly the younger boy falls into his
arms. His eyes widen when Grayson wraps his other arm around him and lets his
forehead suddenly rest on Damian's shoulder, his face turned just slightly so
his nose is pressed against his neck.  
"What are you doing?" Damian asks, trying to keep the panic out of his voice as
he struggles to take a step back.  
"Smelling if you're sick," Grayson answers instantly.  
"Grayson!" Damian snarls as he puts more effort into his fighting now.  
"I'm sorry, little D, but I'm worried about you!" 
"Don't be!" Damian says when he finally manages to push far enough back that
Grayson is no longer pressed against him. The oldest is still grapping his left
hand though and he's watching Damian with furrowed eyebrows.  
"Are you sure you're okay?" Grayson asks again. "I'm really - " 
"I'm fine!" Damian shouts and with an almighty yank finally frees himself.
"Don't do that again, Grayson, it's vulgar." 
Grayson doesn't indulge his little brother in his taunts. Instead he says,
"You're holding back when we're fighting." 
"It's of no concern to you," Damian answers, taking another step back.  
"I'm your brother, of course it is!" Grayson argues back. "Please, little D,
tell me what it is? Are you still feeling sick, you should have just told me
that from the beginning." 
Damian sighs. "I am perfectly - " 
"No you're not. You lost every single of our fights today. You usually win most
of them. You held back and you did it on purpose too. I know you, Damian, I can
see when your fighting is different." 
Damian sighs once more. "It's just a stomach ache," he finally lies, feeling
bad about it but seeing no other way to get Grayson to stop prying into this.  
"Then why didn't you just tell me then? Are you sure that's all it is?" Grayson
takes a cautious step forward. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise you
I can help."  
Damian wants nothing more but to tell Grayson the truth in that moment but he
feels like enough people know already, with both Tim and Jason. He hadn't
planned on telling anyone before he'd figured more things out himself. Been to
the doctor, at least. He isn't sure what to do, what he wants to do and he
would like to know that before he starts announcing to everybody what's going
on with him.  
Then again, Grayson isn't everybody, he is Grayson.  
"I'm fine," he says, voice a bit hollow. "If anything changes, I will be sure
to let you know." 
Grayson, finally admitting defeat for now, nods. "Please do that," he says. "I
promise I can help." 
Damian's not so sure about that but he simply nods and looks away.  
"What do you say, you want to have some hot cocoa? I'm sure Alfred will make us
some, if we ask." Grayson gives Damian an earnest, hopeful smile and Damian
snorts but agrees nonetheless. They leave the cave together.  
** 
Three days later, after an impressive screaming match with his Father, Damian
finds himself lying on his bed, head hidden against his pillow, when the door
opens.  
"Go away, Grayson," Damian snaps instantly. "I'm not in mood for a lecture!" 
"Ah," a voice that doesn’t belong to Grayson says, "then I guess you don't want
to see me either?" 
Damian shrugs to the best of his ability in his position.  
When the person lies down next to him on his bed, Damian turns his head so he
can look into Tim's blue eyes.  
"I'm sorry," Tim whispers and reaches out. He touches Damian's forehead with
the gentle press of his fingertips. "I'm so sorry, Damian." 
"What for," Damian says but its hardly voiced as a question.  
"For not talking to you sooner. For not trying to figure things out sooner." He
licks his lips. "I'm sorry for being too scared to not take time to actually,
properly care about you, too. I forgot that you're probably scared, too." 
For once Damian doesn't deny it. That just goes to prove how true Tim's words
are.  
"And for that," Tim finally concludes, "I am beyond sorry." 
"Thank you," Damian answers instantly. He gives Tim a tight, little smile.  
"We should... talk, Damian. Talk about all of this." 
Damian swallows hard, feeling a panic seep into his body like poison.
"Continue." 
Tim inhales sharply. "You're just a kid," is what he ends up saying and Damian,
for a split second, wonders just how a person of Tim's level on intelligence
can be so utterly incompetent and stupid. "I don't mean that, you know, that I
think of you as a kid because that would be gross I'm just saying..." He looks
away and sighs. "What happened shouldn't have happened. We got carried away and
we forgot that even a beta can make an omega pregnant sometimes. As the oldest
I take that responsibility on my shoulders. For that I'm sorry too. For putting
you in this situation where you have to make these kind of decisions." 
Damian's listened to Tim's words in utter silence and when he stops talking,
Damian still only looks at him. He's trying to process what Tim is saying – or
rather, trying to say. But the words feel like they're in a foreign language
that he cannot understand no matter how much he tries.  
"What decision do you think I should be making?" He finally settles on
asking.  
"Jason was right when he said it was your decision to make, Damian," Tim says
carefully. 
"And now I am asking for your opinion, Drake." There's a slightly dangerous
edge to Damian's voice. "What decision do you think I should be making?" 
"About... what?" Tim asks.  
"About everything," Damian answers hotly.  
"You... I love you, Damian. Do you know that? I love you." Tim kisses his
forehead quickly as if to verify his words. "But," he continues and a piece of
Damian's heart falls into his throat. At least that is how it feels. "But I'm
not sure we're ready for this responsibility. Yet." 
"Yet," Damian whispers flatly.  
"Yes, yet. Maybe... in a few years when we're both older we could... try
again."  
"When we're sure," Damian says, voice still unnervingly blank and flat.  
"Yes," Tim says. "Yes, when we're sure about everything." 
"Everything," Damian repeats, like a machine.  
"Yes," Tim agrees, swallowing hard. "Damian?" 
Damian stares at Tim for a long time before he sits up slowly and then leaves
the bed completely. Tim goes to follow him but Damian glares at him and he
stays with his back against the pillows, heart hammering in his chest at the
sight of Damian walking into the bathroom. He comes back a few minutes later
with his toothbrush and some shampoo. He doesn't say a word as he grabs a bag
from underneath the bed and throws it in. Then he walks over to the dresser and
starts pulling some clothes out.  
"Damian?" Tim asks, now a lot more worried. "What on earth - " 
Damian glares again and he zips the bag closed and throws it over his
shoulder.  
"I did actually," Damian begins, "know that you loved me, I mean." 
"Loved? Damian - " 
"I am not saying your opinion is wrong, Drake. You are entitled to think and
feel whatever you want. I asked for your honest answer and you gave it to me.
For that I am grateful at least. But," and then he walks over to the window and
Tim finally jumps up from the bed worriedly, "I do not agree with what your
saying."  
"Where on earth are you going?" Tim asks flabbergasted.  
"Do you care?" Damian asks and finally the anger bubbles over and becomes
evident in his voice.  
"Of course I do!" 
"I hardly think you do," Damian spits back. "You cared, sure, and you loved me
before, I believe. Now, however, it is evident that what you think should
happen from here-on-out is very different from my picture of the events. I
thought - " and Damian's voice breaks. He shakes his head and opens the window.
"What I thought is irrelevant now. Its clear that we have different looks on
the future and that neither of them will become true. So we will settle on a
middle ground, shall we? You can get the freedom you desire, you can be free of
me in that sense at least, but our child – my child – that I will not get rid
off. Its mine." 
Then he throws himself out of the window and Tim hears himself screaming,
"Damian!" after him.  
Tim takes a second (a second too long) to ponder if he should follow before he
also throws himself out of the window and starts the pursued.  
** 
When Jason is just about to head out for patrol he suddenly hears someone
breaking into his apartment. He grabs the gun from the table and points it at
the intruder and – then instantly lowers it when he sees Damian standing there,
hood up and a bag over his shoulder.  
"Demon brat?" Jason asks.  
"Can I - " 
His voice is cut off by a knock on the door and Tim's voice screaming,
"Damian?! For god sake, stop this!"  
Jason doesn't take long to piece the picture together: Damian, the bag, the
haunted look in his eyes, the fact that he's a Jason's place and then Tim's
loud, alarmed voice.  
He walks over to the door instantly. He can see Damian stiffen and he turns to
look at him. "Go into the bedroom, if you want," he says. "I'll get rid of
him." 
Damian stares at his older brother for a few silent seconds and then he nods
and leaves the room. Jason waits until he hears the bedroom door close before
he opens the front door.  
Timothy Drake looks utterly bewildered. He also looks like a man who has been
chasing down a younger man for hours and is now standing in front of possibly
the last person he expected to see. 
"Jay?" He gasps. "Do you live here?" 
Jason rolls his eyes. "Among other places, yes," he answers with a icy voice.
"Now leave." 
"What, no - " He shakes his head. "I need to see Damian. I need to talk to
him." 
"No, you do not," Jason answers. "You need to leave. Right now. Before I shoot
you, replacement." 
"You don't know what going on!" Tim screams, clearly frustrated.  
"No, I do not, but here is what I do know." 
"Jay - " 
"Shut up!" Jason snarls. "This is what I know. There's a kid in my bedroom, my
little brother, who's pregnant with your child. He doesn't want to see you
right now so much so he left his home in the middle of the night to get away
from you. That's all I need to know to decide that you're not getting near
Damian until he fucking wants you to. You don't get to chase him like some
criminal and demand to talk to him because you are not the child, you are not
pregnant and it may be your child he's carrying but he gets to decide, okay, he
gets to decide." 
"I know that, Jay - " 
"And right now he has decided not to see you. That is all I need to know."
Jason looks right into Tim's eyes. "So leave." 
Tim finally takes a step back and its obvious he's so frustrated and exhausted.
His eyes are wide and wild but they have lost some of their fight. "Okay,
fine," he agrees. "Fine." He swallows hard. "Just... tell him he misunderstood
me. Please? Tell him I love him. That I still love him." 
Jason watches the younger man thoughtfully for a while before he simply say,
"maybe" and shuts the door in his face.  
Then he walks over to the bedroom and knocks on the door.  
"Damian? It's me, can I come in?"  
"Yes," comes the reply and Jason opens the door. 
Damian is sitting on the bed with his beg on his knees and his hands placed on
the bag. He stares out of the window and generally looks like he regrets being
there.  
Jason swallows a very deep sigh and sits down on the only chair in the room.
"What's up kiddo?" He asks.  
And to Jason's huge surprise, Damian doesn't dismiss him and tell him to mind
his own business, no he actually starts explaining. Jason realizes that Damian
probably hasn't talked this out with anyone and for Christ sake the boy is
seventeen, he shouldn't have to go through stuff like this on his own.  
"Tim wants to get rid of it," he says.  
"Oh," Jason says. "Well... yeah, okay. That explains some things." 
"I told him it wasn't going to happen." 
Jason stares at the kid for a long, suffering moment. "Yes, well. This would
cause some problems between the two of you, I guess." He's at a loss of what to
say.  
"He also seems to want to forget everything that ever happened between us." 
"Now, hold up just a second." Jason gets up and sits down next to Damian
instead. "Did he say that?" 
Damian still doesn't look at him. "In other words, yes." 
"In other words," Jason repeats. "What other words." 
"It doesn't matter," Damian snaps, his fingers shaking with anger. "Its clear
what he intends. He wants to get rid of the... the baby and then forget
anything that ever happened between us. And I'm not going to do that." 
"Okay, okay, wait." Jason inhales deeply, trying to act like a good and proper
older brother. Fuck, where is Dick when you need him? "May I ask why you want
to keep the baby?" 
Damian stills and his eyes drop to his hands. "Its not that I... think there's
anything wrong with abortions, Todd," he clarifies. "I just... it's mine. It
feels like mine and I cannot... not have it." 
"Okay, fair enough," Jason says. "You love it already. That's perfectly
understandable." 
"Wait - " 
"Now, can you tell me exactly what Tim said to you?" 
"I would rather not." 
Jason puts a hand on his little brother's head and ruffles hair. Damian pushes
him away instantly and Jason laughs briefly, wondering when the hell this
became his life.  
"Look, I think you might've judged the little detective too quickly, alright?"
He said. "I'm not saying he's not an asshat, kid. I'm just saying... talk to
him. He might surprise you. Also," Jason gets up, "he told me to tell you that
he loves you. That he still loves you." 
Damian grits his teeth and doesn't say anything.  
Jason isn't surprised.  
"Now, I'm going to go on patrol, you stay here. There's not much but if you get
hungry there's a diner on the corner that's always open. Otherwise, stay
inside. I'll be back in a few hours hopefully." 
Damian nods stiffly. He is still not looking at Jason but the oldest can't
really blame him. He has no idea what it must feel like, being a kid having
another kid. He sighs as he grabs his helmet and jumps out of the window. He is
going to get the two bat babies to talk, he decides. If not for their sake,
then for his own. All of this isn't good for his health.  
He is looking forward to punching some assholes.  
** 
Damian stays at Jason's shitty apartment for only two days before Bruce's
constant calls and brooding is enough to drive both of them up the walls.  
"I will go home to Father before he gets unbearable to be around," Damian says
one morning.  
"He is always unbearable," Jason grumbles. "But, yes, good." Then he adds, "You
don't have to, you know?" When Damian gives him a puzzled look, Jason sighs
heavily. "I wouldn't kick you out, even if Bruce is being a bitch. Never,
Demon. Never." 
Damian furrows his eyebrows. "I'm not a demon." 
"Sure you are," Jason snorts. "A demon having another adorable little Demon.
Mini-demon." 
"Todd," Damian growls but Jason just laughs and grabs his empty plate.  
A few hours later Damian leaves through the front door this time.  
"How are you getting home?" Jason asks.  
"Walking?" Damian says. "How else?" 
"It's a long walk." 
"Tt," Damian says – a habit he's otherwise mostly grown out of – "not that
long. And I'm not a baby." 
"How about I give you a lift and you tell me how you knew about my safehouse?"
Jason offers.  
Damian smirks. "Is it annoying you, Todd?" 
Jason snorts but doesn’t deny it. "Shut up," he just says, "and go down to the
fucking bike." 
Damian continues to smirk the way down the stairs. By the time they reach the
manor, however, his smirk has fallen from his face completely. Damian isn't
sure if Tim is still staying at the manor or if he's gone back to his own
apartment. He also isn't sure which one he hopes for.  
He jumps off the bike and isn't surprised when Jason doesn't follow.  
"When you see Dick, punch him the gut for me," Jason says. 
"Why?" Damian demands to be told.  
"You know," he says, shrugging and grinning, "I'm sure he's done something to
deserve it. And, oh, if you ever need a place to stay - " 
"I know the location of all of your safehouses, yes," Damian says.  
"Not all of them, you don't," Jason bites back.  
"You sure about that?" Damian challenges.  
"Get the fuck in there and face the lion, kid," Jason says. "But... call, if
you need me." 
Damian doesn't answer, but he watches his older brother drive away. Then he
turns back to the manor and, with a heavy sigh, decides to walk inside. After
all, he tells himself, Damian Wayne isn't afraid of anything.  
Still, he wonders about just how mad Father is. And Pennyworth, too. Not to
mention Grayson who is hopefully not at the manor still. And then there's
Timothy but that is another can of worms all together.  
He opens the door and walks inside.  
There is no one there immediately to greet him but he is not foolish enough to
expect this blessed alone-time to continue on for much longer. He walks up the
stairs and into his room where he drops the back and changes into a fresh set
of clothes. Then he decides to be the warrior he was created to be since birth
and sets out to find his Father at once to get the horrid and inevitable
yelling over with quickly.  
He finds Grayson before he finds anyone else. The man is sitting in the kitchen
with Alfred, drinking tea and reading the newspaper. They both look up when
Damian enters.  
"Ah, Master Damian at last," Alfred says. "It has been a while." 
"Pennyworth," Damian only says, unsure of how he feels about the butler's
somewhat blank stare.  
"Damian!" Grayson shouts. "Where on earth have you been?!" 
"Out," he answers.  
"Not good enough!" Grayson continues. "Bruce said you texted him that you were
staying with a friend? We called Clark and you weren't with Jon so where the
fuck where you?" 
Damian grits his teeth against all the biting comments he would like to say in
this moment.  
"Tt," he gets out, "you are overreacting, Grayson." 
"I'm not," Grayson says. "Jesus, Dami, we're worried about you." 
"Yes, well, I'm fine as you can see," Damian reports, "and I am sure Father has
a tracker on me somewhere at all times so if he was really worried he would
have come found me." 
"It's not about that," Grayson sighs, "you know that. We trust you." 
"Sure doesn't feel like it," Damian grumbles.  
"Little D, please, why won't you just tell me what's wrong? Is it something to
do with Robin? Did something happen? Did Bruce say something again? Or Tim?" 
At the mention of Tim's name Damian prides himself on not flinching but he does
look away from Grayson's big, blue, prying eyes.  
"Master Richard," Alfred interrupts blessedly, "perhaps you could alert Master
Bruce that Master Damian has returned?" 
Grayson looks like he wants to stay and argue his point but Dick also knows
Damian better than anyone else so he knows when to pick his battles.  
"Yes," Grayson answers, "but we're not done, D." 
"Tt," is all Damian says as he slides down on an empty seat.  
When Dick is gone, Alfred places a cop of tea in front of him. "There you go,
young sir." 
"Thank you, Pennyworth," Damian mumbles.  
"You're welcome. It's camomile, it should be good for cramps and morning
sickness, I've heard." 
Damian's head snaps towards the butler so quickly he should have broken a few
bones in the process. He stares at the old man with wide eyes and an open
mouth.  
"How?" He demands to be told.  
Pennyworth just sends him a small, understanding smile and puts a hand on
Damian's shoulder. "Master Damian, I see and hear far more than any of you
think I do," he explains kindly. "It is both a blessing and a curse, with a
family like this. Do not worry, I have not told your father – or anyone else
for that matter – and I don't think he suspects." 
Damian doesn't know what to say so he just sits there and stares at the old
butler.  
"Drink you tea, sir, before it gets cold." 
Damian follows orders because, honestly, he has no idea what else to do at this
point.  
After a few minutes he puts the empty tea cup down. "Do you... do you know
whose... it is?" 
"Sir?" 
"I mean," Damian swallows hard, "whom it belongs to?" 
"I would have assumed it was yours, Master Damian," Pennyworth answers and
Damian feels a smile pull at his lips. A smile that Pennyworth returns easily
before he refills Damian's cup. Damian takes a sip and enjoys the taste and
feel of it before his Father suddenly enters the kitchen, looking far from
happy.  
Damian puts the cup down and stares at him. Dick is trailing behind his father.
So far no sight of Tim. He still isn't sure how he feels about that.  
"Damian!" His Father roars and Damian's straightens his shoulders for the
inevitable. "Where have you been?" 
"Tt," he says, "as I explained to Grayson, I know about your trackers, Father,
so you must have known all along." 
"Damian," his Father sighs, "I do track you, yes, but to keep you safe and I
don't use them unless I think your safety is being compromised." 
"And you didn't think that was the case?" 
"Tim said some things that made me think perhaps it wasn't, no." 
"Timothy?" Damian says, half surprised and half worried.  
"He told me about your argument, Damian," Father says. "Well, he said you had
an argument, wouldn't tell me what is what about. He said he knew you just
needed some space. He also said the argument was his fault and to not blame
you." 
Damian stares at his Father with a blank expression, afraid that any emotion
will crack his mask and he will crumble. He isn't sure what he feels, or how he
even should feel, about anything in that moment.  
"Drink you tea," Pennyworth commands once more, probably sensing the turmoil
inside Damian's head far better than anyone else. Damian takes another sip.  
"So you trust me because Drake tells you to?" Damian finally says before his
Father resumes his speech. 
"Damian, you know that's not true," Father says.  
"Oh, isn't it?" Damian spits. 
A glare from Alfred makes him inhale deeply and take another few calming sips
of the tea. He exhales and puts the cup down again.  
"Look," he says, "Drake was right, I just needed some space, okay?" 
"Yes, that is okay," Father says. "But I want you to tell me before you run
away. That has nothing to do with trust. That's a matter of me being your
father, Damian, and you're still just a child." 
"I'm not a child!" 
"Yes, you are! You are my child and I forbid - " 
"Okay, okay, hey," Dick calls and steps in. "Let's all calm down." 
"You think I'm a child?" Damian spits. "After everything, you still think I'm a
child, Father?" 
"Of course I do and your action of running away only proves that you're still
far from being an adult," Bruce roars.  
"Oh my god," Dick groans, running a hand down his face in frustration.  
"You are not being fair!" Damian shouts.  
"I don't have to be fair, I am your father!" Bruce shouted back. "You will go
to your room, now, and stay there until further notice!" 
"Are you grounding me?" 
"If you insist on behaving like I child I will simply have to treat you like a
child!" 
"And what about Drake, what did you do to punish him?" Damian questions.
"Nothing, am I right? Of course you did not. And he even admitted to have been
the one in the wrong and yet you still refuse to - " 
"Enough!" Bruce roars loudly. "Enough of this for tonight, Damian. Go to your
room. Now." 
They stare at each other, bodies tense like they are waiting for an attack, the
air around them electric with their sparkling anger, and then Damian grabs the
cup of tea and throws it on the ground with a smash in one final attempt to
stand his ground.  
"Master Damian!" Alfred exclaims. "That, I believe, was very much uncalled
for." 
Damian instantly looks guilty. He looks down at the shattered porcelain and
swallows hard. "I apologize, Pennyworth," he mumbles. 
"Apology accepted," Pennyworth says. "Don't step in it – no, no, young sir, I
will get it." 
While Pennyworth removes the broken porcelain, Damian glares at his Father as
he passes him on the way out of the room.  
"Straight to your room," Bruce says as the final thing.  
"Bruce!" Dick snaps.  
Damian refrains from answering but slams the door shut behind him when he
leaves.  
** 
He sees Timothy when the boy comes back from patrol at 3.30 in the morning.
Damian has been in his room all day, switching between furious anger and a
whimpering sadness. Father hasn't said another word to him but Pennyworth
assured him that he wasn't nearly as angry as he seemed, when he brought Damian
lunch and later also dinner. He also came up with tea several times. Dick came
into his room, briefly, but sensed that talking to Damian just then would be
counterproductive. He promised his little brother that everything would be
fine, told him to get some rest and that he would talk to him later.  
Damian hasn't slept yet. His body is tense after the fight. He's tired, he can
feel it in his entire body, but he hasn't been on patrol in a few days and the
lack of fighting and adrenaline rush makes his body feel like it has been wired
wrong. 
Damian is staring at the ceiling, eyes wide open, when someone knocks on the
door.  
"It's me," Tim's voice calls. "Damian? Can I come in? Please?"  
Damian's voice is caught somewhere in his throat and his fingers are grabbing
the sheets desperately.  
"Damian?" Tim calls again, this time more silently. "You awake?" 
Damian still doesn't say anything but he can feel tears in his eyes and he
hates them and he hates himself and he hates Tim.  
"Okay," Tim finally mumbles and he, too, sounds broken. Damian listens to his
footstep disappear and, suddenly, something inside him snaps and he jumps out
of bed, runs to the door and throws it open.  
"Timothy!" He calls desperately and looks down the corridor.  
The beta stops abruptly and turns around. There's hardly any light in the
hallways but Damian can still see the redness in his eyes, the bruises under
them and how pale his skin looks. Damian swallows hard and takes a step out his
room.  
"Damian?" Tim says, unsure, like he can't believe it's actually him.  
"Yes," Damian says and takes another step.  
Then Tim moves, quickly, and Damian follows his example and like two magnets
they gravitate towards each other quickly. Damian falls into Tim's arms like he
was meant to be there and he kisses Tim with a ferocity that makes the beta
whimper and tighten his hold on the younger boy.  
They're the same height now and it makes it all so perfect. Damian grabs Tim's
hair and pulls and Tim follows instantly, still kissing Damian like his mouth
is air and he is a drowning man. Damian pushes Tim against the wall, knocking
one of the painting on the ground in the process. He grabs his wrists and pins
them on either side of his head. He starts kissing down his jaw and his neck
and Tim moans, loudly. He wraps one leg around Damian's waist and forces him
even closer. Damian sucks on the too pale skin and Tim rocks his hips
desperately.  
Damian will never get enough of this, he thinks as he feels Tim shake in his
arms.  
Tim gets one hand free and pushes it against Damian. The other he wraps around
Damian's shoulders and then he attacks his mouth again. Tim walks them back
into Damian's room. He closes the door with a well-aimed kick and continues to
walk towards the bed.  
Damian moans into the older boy's mouth and run his nails down his back
desperately. Tim pushes Damian down on the bed and follows him quickly. This
time Tim's mouth finds Damian's ear and he bites his earlobe. Damian yelps and
his back arches off the bed. Tim chuckles into his ear and this time it is
Damian who wraps his legs around Tim to force him closer. He puts a hand in
Tim's hair and pulls him back up so Damian can find his glorious mouth once
more. Tim braces himself with one hand next to Damian's head and the other
travels down Damian's chest, opening the bottoms on his shirt on its way
down.  
Tim moans when it is completely open and trails hungry, biting kisses down
Damian's beautiful chest. His teeth and lips and tongue leave marks on Damian's
skin and the younger keeps moaning, wanting more cause it's not enough, it's
never enough.  
Tim opens his jeans with his teeth and Damian cannot decide if it is hot or
just unnecessary. Tim pulls down his jeans quickly, throwing them to the
ground. Then he is back and starts kissing Damian again, his teeth digging into
Damian's lips. Damian's fingers are opening Tim's slacks easily and he manages
to force them down with his feet. Tim smiles against his mouth before he kisses
him again and again and again.  
Damian flips them around, then, and lift Tim's t-shirt up. It is far too big
for him. It might be Grayson's actually. He doesn't take it off but he pulls it
up enough that he can lick his nipples. Tim puts a hand over his mouth but the
moan still spills into the heavy air around them and the sound is enough to
draw another moan from Damian as well.  
"Damian," Tim moans, the first actual word any of them have uttered in a while.
"Dami, Dami, please." 
Damian doesn't say anything in return but he smirks as he makes his way down
Tim's torso slowly. When he gets to the older boy's boxers he looks up and
locks eyes with Tim. The older boy looks like a wreck and Damian loves it but
it's not enough.  
Damian starts kissing his clothed cock because he known it will drive Tim
insane. They have done this before. They've done it countless of times. They've
done it in alleyways when they were on patrol together, they've done it in
Tim's apartment, his kitchen, his hallways, in front of the big windows, in the
bathroom. They've done it hundred of places in the manor as well. They've done
in on the table in the kitchen (and Damian just prays Pennyworth will never
find out), they've done it in the library several times, they've done it in
Damian's room and Tim's room, they've even done in it in Grayson's room once.
They've done it in different corridors, in bathrooms and, once, they did it in
the cave. On Tim's birthday they even did in in the batmobile. 
Its still not enough. Damian sometimes wonders if it will ever be enough.  
"Stop teasing," Tim complains.  
Damian licks his cock without answering and then, finally, he pulls his boxers
away and throws them on the ground next to their jeans. Damian moans and kisses
the head instantly. Tim yelps and gasps. The sounds drives Damian a little bit
insane, he thinks. Without saying anything still he wraps his lips around Tim's
dock and slowly sinks down.  
Tim moans louder than before and then he starts begging. Damian loves when Tim
begs.  
"Please, fuck, yes, just like that Dami. Oh my god, you're so good at this,
fuck. Fuck, fuck, Dami, yes, please, please, please." 
The first time they did this, they were on patrol together and Damian had
gotten injured. He'd lost some blood but not enough for it to be alarming, just
enough that Tim was mad at him. He'd called him 'careless' and told him he
could be  'such a fucking child' and Damian, just to shut him up, pressed him
against a brick wall and kissed him like his life depended on it. And, to his
surprise, Tim kissed back. It went from there. 
By the time Damian's first, cursed heat rolled in they had been doing it for
the better part of five months so it was only natural for him to grab his phone
and call Timothy.  
"Please," he'd begged into the phone. "It hurts, Tim, I need you, need you
right now. Please." 
Tim had been there ten minutes later.  
"Damian, god, can you please go faster I'm so close," Tim moans and Damian
snaps back to reality. He works his tongue the way Tim loves and then he pulls
off. Tim whines but Damian crawls over his body and then he kisses him. Tim
moans into his mouth and Damian know, too, that Tim likes the taste of himself
on Damian's tongue.  
"Fuck me," Damian whispers into Tim's mouth. "Fuck me, Timothy." 
Tim pulls back slightly so can look into Damian's gorgeous eyes. "You sure?" He
whispers back.  
Damian swallows hard and nods. He is sure. In this moment in time he doesn't
care about anything other than his beautiful beta fucking him like there's no
tomorrow, like it will be their last time ever. Anything else is irrelevant
just then.  
"Okay," Tim says.  
He grabs the lube from the nightstand and turn them around so Damian is once
more on his back. Damian moans and spread his legs and Tim kisses his thigh.
Damian refrains from begging, he never begs, not unless he's in heat, but he
wants to tell the boy to not be such a fucking tease himself.  
Finally Tim pours the lube onto his fingers, smirking, and then he starts
working Damian open the way he knows the omega loves it. They are practiced in
this with each other, they know one another, what they want and how their
bodies work and respond.  
He works him open with two, three and even four fingers until Damian thinks
he's going to lose his fucking mind. He bites down on his lip not to scream.  
Finally, finally, finally Tim pulls back and pours some of the lube on his cock
as well.  
"You good?" He asks Damian. "You sure?"  
"Yes," he moans. "I promise you. Just fuck me." 
And Tim does just that.  
** 
Damian wakes up slowly the next morning at around eight o'clock. He blinks,
slightly confused, and turns to look. Tim is gone, not a surprise all things
considered, he guesses. It still hurts, though. On his pillow he left a note.
Damian picks it up.  
Damian. 
We need to talk. I think you've misunderstood me. 
I love you. 
Damian stares at the words for a long while and only when someone knocks on the
door does he crumble the note in his hand.  
"What?" He snaps irritated.  
"Can I come in?" Grayson asks.  
Damian gets up with a sigh. He grabs his boxers and jeans and puts them on.
Then he opens the window to get rid off the smell of sex and discards his shirt
for a cleaner t-shirt. He opens the door, glaring at Grayson.  
"What?" He snaps once more.  
"Damian," the older man says, "can we talk? I'm worried about you." 
Damian sighs heavily. He knows Grayson and his annoying tendency to worry isn't
going away anytime soon so he might as well address the problem now.  
"Fine," he snaps, opening the door, knowing full well that the air is still
thick from last night.  
"Damian," the beta exclaims surprised. "Did you have sex in here?" 
Damian looks at him and rolls his eyes but refrains from answering.  
"Oh my god," Dick says. "Does this have anything to do with what's going on? Is
someone doing something - " 
"Grayson!" Damian roars. He glares at his oldest brother. "I am not a kid." 
"Yes you are," Dick says easily. "You're my baby brother." 
"Grayson," Damian snaps again.  
"Look, I'm sorry, little D," Grayson sighs as he sits down on Damian's dresser.
"Bruce can be a right ass, we both know that. He is just worried and yes he has
an odd way of showing it but, nevertheless, it is true. We've both noticed that
you've been acting different this last week. Probably even long than that."
Dick tilts his head. "I know you're not going to tell me unless you want you.
But, please, Damian. At least tell me if it is something I can help with? Do
you want my help? Do you need my help? Whatever it is... whatever it is we can
deal with it as a family. I promise you." 
Damian stares at Grayson. "Are you done?" He finally asks when he is sure his
brother's speech is over. "Whatever you think I am going through I can assure
it is not that. Rest easy, I haven't killed anyone or anything the like." 
"I didn't think that," Grayson says instantly. He sounds hurt and angry that
Damian would even assume that. "You know that, D. And even if you had I
wouldn't be mad at you. Not when you told me why you'd done it because I'm sure
you would have a reason." 
There's a beat of silence.  
"So, are you going to require a reason as to why I did it?" Damian asks.  
"Nope," Grayson answers, "because you didn't kill anyone. So, what is it?" 
Damian turns away, not wanting to look at Grayson's face when he says it. "I'm
pregnant," he whispers.  
"What?" Grayson asks instantly. "Sorry I didn't catch that, D." 
"Yes you did," Damian snaps. "What you thought you heard is true." He swallows
hard and turns around. "I'm pregnant." 
Grayson opens his mouth, eyes wide, only to close it again. A few seconds
later, this happens again, and when he opens his mouth for the third time
Damian growls, "Stop looking like a fish out of water, it is unbecoming." 
"Its... yes, no." Grayson swallows. "Wow." 
"Yes," Damian mumbles, "wow indeed." 
"Are you okay, little D? How did this happen?" 
Damian glares at him.  
"Not like that! I know... that part of it. I mean, I hadn't thought you were
already – I mean you're just a kid. Though probably not, I mean – Jesus
Christ." 
"I'm an atheist," Damian mumbles and Grayson glares. Damian smirks but it
quickly disappears from his lips.  
"Damian, just... did something happen. To you. I mean." 
"No, no. It was... consensual." Damian blushes but Grayson exhales deeply,
clearly beyond relieved.  
"Okay," he says. "Okay, good. Do you want to tell me who it is?" 
"No I don't think so," Damian decides. "Not yet." 
Grayson only nods. Then he closes his eyes like he's processing everything.
"Okay. Okay, yes. Well. How long?" 
"About six weeks by know. I have a doctors appointment tomorrow, though." 
Grayson gets up and walks over to Damian. He puts a hand on his shoulder and
the other on his head even though Damian is only half a head shorter than him
and has yet to hit his final grow spurt. 
"Damian, it's going to be alright," Grayson promises once more. "No mater what,
we will support you. No matter what." 
"I'm keeping it," Damian whispers then, looking down at his feet. "I've
already," and he has to swallow hard, "I've already decided. And... and I know
you probably think it is a... an unwise decision to make given my age but – " 
"No, hey," Grayson interrupts as he wraps his arms around Damian's frame
protectively. "No, I meant it. Whatever you decide, we are with you. I am with
you. I love you, D. I love you so much." 
Damian doesn't say anything, just wraps his arms around Grayson, his older
brother, as well.  
"It is going to be fine," Grayson whispers into his dark hair. "This family can
always use more members. We will support you," he says again. 
"Even Father?" He whispers.  
Grayson stiffens and then takes a step back, keeping his arms around Damian. He
looks at his younger brother's confused and unsure expression, the teeth
digging into his lower lip and the eyes that flicker.  
"I don't care what your father thinks," Grayson says sternly, "if he has
problem, you can live with me." 
"I cannot live with you with a – a baby, don't be daft." 
"Of course you can," Grayson smiles and pulls Damian against him again. "Of
course you can. You always have a home with me, little D. Always. And with
Jason and Tim and Steph and Cass and everyone. And Bruce is going to be fine.
Alfred is not going to let him be anything but fine with it." 
Damian isn't sure he believes him but he lets himself be held by his brother
and just then he doesn't care about anything else. He doesn't care about the
way his heart aches and his throat is tight, the way the future seems big and
uncomprehensive ahead of him, he doesn't think about the fact that he is going
to be a father. He just lets Grayson rock him back and forth like he used to
when he was younger and Damian feel safe in this embrace. If nothing else, he
will always have Grayson.  
** 
Damian lets Grayson come up with an excuse about why they have to leave the
manor the next day so they can make it to the doctor's appointment. It takes a
good thirty minutes but then they are in one of the cars and on their way.  
Grayson turns up the radio because he knows Damian is not in a chatty mood.
Some might say Damian is never in a chatty mood but Grayson would scuff at
them. They simply don't know how to read Damian. Sometimes Damian thinks that
no one knows how to read him as well as Grayson and that is both terrifying and
comforting all at the same time.  
They make it with ten minutes to spare and they sit in the waiting room and
wait. Damian is glaring at his phone, texting Jon because he has nothing better
to do and also, it will keep his hands from shaking. He knows that pregnancy
tests are never 100 percent certain but after today there will be no way around
it. He will either will or won't be a pregnant seventeen year old.  
"Damian?" A woman calls and both Damian and Grayson look up.  
"Do you want me to come with you?" Grayson whispers.  
"No, I... stay here, please?" 
"Always," Grayson smiles and Damian rolls his eyes but smiles a little.  
Thirty minutes later he comes back out. He doesn't say anything to Grayson,
just walk out of the office and towards the parking lot quickly. Grayson
unlocks the car and they both get in.  
"Well?" Grayson says. "What happened?" 
Damian swallows. "I'm six weeks pregnant," he mumbles then.  
Grayson smiles, a little, and leans over and kisses Damian's temple. "Yeah? It
will be alright." 
"Of course it will," Damian says. "It has to." 
"Yep," Grayson agrees. "It has to." 
They drive home, the radio still loud. Grayson is singing along to a song
Damian doesn't know when, all of the sudden, he hears himself go, "It's
Tim's." 
And Grayson gets so surprise he nearly slams the break just then and there. He
refrains but whips his head around to stare at Damian with even wider eyes than
the day before.  
"No," Grayson says then. "No that... that's not possible, that's just not
possible." 
Damian looks out of the window. "Well, clearly it is." 
"Holy fucking Spiderman," Grayson swears. "Jesus motherfucking Christ. Tim?
Tim? Tim Drake?" 
"Yes," Damian whispers, embarrassed for some reason. Maybe because it's Grayson
and he's always been the one to preach the "you are brothers" speech the most.
It cannot be easy to find out that one of your little brothers is pregnant
because of your other little brother. Damian feels a little sick.  
"Oh my – when?"  
"What do you mean when?" Damian asks. "When I was in heat, obviously." 
"And, what, just that once then?" 
Damian shrinks a little, doesn't want to admit just how much they'd had sex,
how often and where, nor does he want to tell Grayson about when or how it
started.  
"Oh my god." 
Grayson seems to be at a loss for words after that and they drive home to the
manor is silence. They sit in the car for a long time without saying anything
when they park in the garage.  
"Don't think I'm mad at you," Grayson finally cracks. "I'm not, Damian." 
"Well, maybe you should be," Damian says.  
"No, no I shouldn't. And I'm not. Mad. At you, anyway." 
Damian turns to look at Grayson. "Are you mad at Timothy?" He has to ask, he
has to know.  
Grayson grits his teeth. "Maybe," he answers. "I haven't figured that out
yet." 
"I would... want you not to mad at him," Damian says and is slightly surprised
to find that his words are actually true. "If you could." 
Grayson bites his lip thoughtfully. "Do you love him?" he asks then, silently,
like the question is too big, too important to be spoken out loud.  
Damian looks down at his hands again, his chest beating too fast and his legs
shaking a bit. "Yes, I believe so," he answers just as quietly. "But..." 
"But what?" Grayson continues on.  
"It does not matter anymore." 
"Why not?" Grayson presses on. He, too, has to know.  
"We... had a disagreement about... everything." Damian swallows hard. "Whatever
we were before is irrelevant now." 
"Oh," Grayson whispers.  
Another long stretch of silence follows his words.  
"I – do you want me to talk to him?" Grayson asks.  
"No," Damian answers, shaking his head. "I have to talk to him before he leaves
the manor again anyway. We have to at least be able to talk to one another." 
"Yeah, I get that," Grayson says, "still... Damian, you're... you're
seventeen."  
"Yes, I am aware," Damian snaps.  
"No, I mean - " Grayson swallows hard. "That's... that's not legal." 
"In many countries, such as Denmark, a person is considered capable of deciding
whom they wish to have intercourse with at the age of sixteen." 
Grayson snorts at this although it is a bit week. "I see your point but this is
not Denmark, this is Gotham." Then he pales drastically. "D, how long has this
been going on?" 
Damian's eyes widen at the question and he's too perplexed to answer at first
which makes Grayson choke on air and grab the steering while tightly.  
"No," Damian's raps then. "No, only the previous months. Six months at most." 
Grayson exhales then, deeply, through his nose and closes his eyes. He looks
like a man in pain and Damian hates this whole situation. Next time he will
bring Todd, he decides. He is less likely to be hurt himself over this, less
likely to look like he blames himself somehow. Also, he deals with situations
in ways Damian can better understand: violence. Protecting one self against
physical, immediate danger.  
Damian hasn't been on patrol for a while and is starting to make him restless,
even now.  
"Okay, we should probably go back in," Grayson says, finally. "Your old man
must be losing his marbles." 
"Yes, okay," Damian agrees and gets out of the car. Grayson doesn't follow
immediately but comes sixty seconds later.  
"How long will you be staying at the manor?" Damian asks.  
"Well, I was only going to stay until tomorrow but, with everything, I might
just crash for a little while longer." 
Damian wants to tell him it's fine, he can go come, Damian is fine, will be
fine but, honestly, but he cannot help but feel relieved that his oldest
brother will stay with him a little while longer.  
** 
Damian isn't ready to tell his Father. He doesn't want to tell his Father. They
have a talk, that same day, in which Bruce spends a long time talking about
responsibilities and what it means to be a family who trusts one another, and
so forth. Damian bites his tongue not to say anything because he really wants
his Father to let him patrol as Robin again. By the end of the speech, he tells
Damian he is no longer grounded if he tells him what is going on.  
Damian, panicking, tells some of it: "I'm gay." 
Father chokes on his own spit which, Damian has to admit, he never thought he
would see. Then he looks away from his son awkwardly and looks like he might
begin another speech. Quickly, Damian cuts him off: "I had a bit of a crises,
all is well now though, Father." 
Father looks relived by this and after he gets Damian to promise that he will
talk to Bruce the next time something like this is bothering him, he is free to
go. He hurries down to the kitchen where Pennyworth is waiting for him with
tea.  
"There you go, sir," he says. "Is all well?" 
"Yes," Damian mumbles, placing his fingertips on his flat belly. "Yes, all is
well. I have yet to feel any sickness. The nurse said that, hopefully, I can go
through this... this with as little discomfort as possible." 
"That would be rather splendid," Pennyworth agrees and pours himself a cup as
well. They sit opposite one another, sipping tea wordlessly. Pennyworth is
reading the newspaper from today and Damian has his mind anywhere else but the
kitchen and the butler.  
After a while, he decides to go upstairs and rest. On the way he passes the
library where he sees Tim. The boy is leaning over a stack of books, computer
to his right and a notebook on his left. He flips through the pages quickly,
writes something down, bites the ben thoughtfully and then types something into
the computer. Damian wants to say something, honestly, but he has no idea what.
So he leaves the boy and enters his room. 
He falls asleep and sleeps through dinner. Pennyworth has prepared food for him
that he eats after the others. He goes down to the cave later to get ready for
patrol. He is surprised by the sheer amount of people in the cave. Todd is
talking to Brown, Tim is practising a move and Grayson is getting into his
uniform. Father is sitting by the computer, going over a case.  
They all seem to look up when he enters.  
"Good," Father says in his Batman-voice. "We should be ready to leave then.
Nightwing you are with Red Robin. Robin, you are with me - " 
"What?" Grayson says then. "No, Robin isn't going out on patrol." 
Damian glares, Father and Brown both look confused, and Todd and Tim are both
staring at Grayson with wide eyes.  
"And why is that?" Father asks then and Damian wants to strangle his older
brother. 
"Because he is sick," he replies instantly.  
"What?" Father asks, this time directed at Damian. "Are you sick?" 
"I am perfectly well," Damian responds, teeth gritted. "Grayson must be
confused." 
"I'm not confused I just think - " 
"Well, it is not relevant what you think," Damian snaps. "I am going on
patrol." 
"Perhaps... Dick is right," Tim mumbles, so low the others hardly hear it. But
they do and now everyone is looking at him. Well, Grayson is glaring at him,
more like. And so is Damian.  
"No he is not," Damian answers swiftly. "I am well, I will be going out on
patrol." 
"Please, Dami, I just think - " 
"I do not care what you think, Drake," Damian snaps, "this is of no concern to
you." 
Tim inhales sharply. "That's not true, you know that's not true." 
"No, Damian is right," Dick says. "Stay out of this, Tim." 
Tim turns to look at his brother in surprise. "And what do you know about that,
Dick?" 
"I know plenty," Dick growls.  
"Oh, wow, okay," Todd finally says and lift up both hand. "Maybe we should all
calm down, yeah? Perhaps it's the baby bird's own choice? As long as he is
careful - " 
"I'm always careful!" 
" - we should be good." 
"What the hell is going on?" Brown interjects then. "Is the Demon brat sick?" 
"I'm not sick, Brown, stay out of this," Damian retaliates.  
"Everyone, stop it," Bruce's voice shouts into the cave impressively. "That is
more than enough." 
He looks at his sons, one by one, but they all seem to be glaring at each
other. Tim is glaring at Dick, Dick is glaring right back, Damian is glaring at
both of them and Jason's eyes goes from one to the other, not really sure what
to do.  
"Someone will tell me what is going on this instance." 
More silence. A heavy, loaded silence that fills the air in the cave like
electricity and makes it harder to breathe and think.  
"Perhaps..." Grayson begins, staring at Damian now with unsure eyes.  
Damian's eyes widen in fear.  
"Dick - " Tim says, when he realizes what the oldest is going to suggest.  
"You stay out this," Dick snaps.  
"No, you stay out of this!" Tim snaps right back.  
"Okay, both of you, stop it," Jason yells. He looks at Dick and he shakes his
head, once, trying to hold an entire conversation with the oldest through just
their stares.  
"Don't you dare," Damian spits when Grayson still looks uncertain.  
The older man flinches and looks down. "Sorry, no, you're right." 
"What is going on?!" Bruce roars again.  
Damian's chest is beating so loud and hard it physically hurts."Nothing," he
finally says, "and I am more than capable of going on patrol." 
He looks at Dick, daring him to disagree, and he glares at Tim, telling him to
keep his fucking mouth shut. No one says anything for a while.  
"Yeah, no, you're right," Grayson mumbles then, voice somewhat hoarse. "My
mistake, Robin is fine." 
Tim looks betrayed for a second, eyes drifting between all three of his
brothers.  
"This is not good enough," Bruce says. "When patrol is over we will discuss
this further. For now, it is time to go." 
** 
Bruce probably would have demanded a meeting as soon as patrol was over if not
for the fact that everyone is pretty beaten up. Tim is the worst. The bullet
wound is far from the worst he's been through but it still hurts, that most is
obvious. It's in his leg and hasn't hit any important veins so he will be fine
in a couple of days, nevertheless Damian can feel his worry in his heart and in
his lungs, almost like poison. It probably doesn't help that Tim took that
bullet for Damian.  
Damian had been careful all through patrol, had made sure he wasn't hit in his
stomach, that he didn't fall or anything like that. But the extra caution made
him slower and an easier target. He hadn't seen the gun – he should have but he
didn't. The wound would have hit him in the back if Tim hadn't screamed first
and jumped in front of him. He hadn't pushed Damian away, he'd just stood
there, shielding his body as the bullet pierced his skin and forced its way
into his leg. And then he'd choked on a scream and fallen to his knees.  
Damian is right now staring, motionless, to Grayson and Todd who are helping
Pennyworth remove the bullet and stitch him back up. Tim is out cold himself
and Father and Brown are still out, finishing up Patrol. Damian bites his
tongue not to say something he might regret, and he curls his fists to stop the
sudden urge to run and hide. That is not who he is, he tell himself.  
So he watches as his brothers and Pennyworth finishes up and wash their hands.
Their talk is, for the moment, light enough and that is more than enough of a
tell that Tim is just fine but Damian has to see for himself. He walks over,
determined, and looks down at the sleeping boy. He looks peaceful, calm, and
Damian reached out and touches his forehead the way Tim usually do to Damian
when he's frowning. The thought makes a hesitant smile grace his worried
lips.  
"Damian?"  
He snaps his attention back to Grayson and Todd who are watching him.  
"What?" He asks.  
"Are you okay?" Grayson asks worriedly.  
"I am perfectly fine," Damian answers and pulls his hand back.  
Grayson doesn't look convinced but Damian is not in the mood for a lecture or a
talk about feelings, for that matter, so he heads out of the cave and back into
his room. He doesn't except to sleep much so he takes his notebook and sits
down on the bed. He starts to sketch, the way he knows how to, and underneath
the edge of his pensile a drawing of Timothy in his Red Robin suit is
created.  
** 
It is inevitable, really. Father will demand answers for the escapade in the
cave and the way everyone behaved. He will have put two and two together and
figured out is has something to do with Damian running away. Damian expects his
Father to be suspicious, he expects his Father to want to talk, maybe even call
a meeting, but he does not expect him to simply declare, "You are pregnant" the
next day when he and Damian are in the cave.  
Damian, who is training, falls on his back instantly in surprise and horror. He
is up in a matter of seconds, staring at his Father but unable to speak. He
should have realized he knew, he thinks then. 
They call him the world's greatest detective for a reason. 
"I... what?" Is all Damian can say.  
"You are pregnant," Father declares again. "Maybe we should talk about this
upstairs?" 
Damian is too perplexed to do anything but follow. They walk through the
kitchen where Todd, Grayson and Tim are sitting, having a rapid discussion that
halts the second they enter. Tim looks better. Not good enough to be out of bed
and judging by the way Pennyworth is glaring at him the butler agrees.  
Father sends his three other sons pointed stares but continues on. All of the
sudden, Damian feels a rapid need to pull them down with him.  
"They know," he declares. Then he looks at Grayson. "He knows," he says,
nodding towards Father. "Everyone knows," he finally determines.  
Father has turned around now and everyone is looking angry, confused or
downright flabbergasted. Pennyworth looks like he is expecting the worst to
unfold. Damian thinks Pennyworth is a very wise man, just then.  
"You told them before you came to me," is Father's declaration.  
"Yes," Damian says with an eyeroll. "I did." 
"Why?" 
"Bruce - " Grayson begins.  
"Because I knew you'd not approve." 
"You don't know that." 
"Then do you?" Damian asks. "Do you approve of me being pregnant? Of me keeping
the baby?" 
Father blinks. "Are you keeping the baby, Damian?" 
Damian grits his teeth dangerously. "Yes," he hisses. "No matter what any of
you say." 
Father looks put out. He looks like he has a hard time believing this entire
conversation is taking place. "I think," he begins carefully, wisely, "that you
are very young still to be making - " 
"Oh, fuck off old man," Todd yells then. "You don't get to fucking decide
that." 
"Stay out of this, Jason," Father says.  
"No," Todd argues as he gets up. "You can't fucking talk like that to your son,
Bruce. It is his choice - " 
"I'm not saying it isn't!" 
"Then what are you saying because it sure as hell sounded like you did!" 
Father looks like he wants to strangle Todd. "All I am saying is that Damian
needs to know that there is nothing wrong with... other options. Not
necessarily abortion if you are against it - " 
"I'm not against it," Damian says.  
"But, perhaps, adoption." 
The room goes silent for a split second, as if times stand still in the moments
after the words have left Father's mouth.  
Then everything starts up again with a roar.  
"I'm not giving my baby away!" Damian yells, anger cursing through his veins.
"Not to you, not to anyone! I have decided to keep this child, to give it a
good childhood, a better childhood than I ever had and you cannot change my
mind about that!" 
"Damian," Father begins again, this time even more careful than before. He
talks as if he's approaching a wild animal and it just makes Damian even more
angry. 
"Don't fucking patronize me, Father," he spits. "I know what you're doing. You
want me to give the child away or have an abortion because that's what's easier
for you. For Batman. But this once, I am going to make a decision for me. For
this child. Who hasn't been born yet but deserves better, deserves more!" 
"Okay, Damian, we hear what you're saying," Grayson steps in then. "You have
every right to feel this way and, of course, no matter what we are going to
support you." His eyes darken then. "Right, Bruce?" he bites out.  
"Give it up, Goldie," Todd interferes again, looking almost as angry as Damian.
"You can't teach an old dog new tricks." 
"What is that supposed to mean, Jason?" Father snaps.  
"You know what it means, old man! It means that the kid is right. You're not
thinking about what's best for him, you're thinking about what's best for
you!" 
"What do you know about my motivations. He is my son." 
"I was your son once too!" Todd yells. "So believe me I know." 
"Hey, Jason," Grayson says. "As much as I agree with you, perhaps right now
isn't the best time to be having that discussion." 
"What do you mean by that?" Todd says.  
"Look," Grayson starts to explain. "We all wants what's best for Damian." 
"What is best for me is for all you to mind your own business," Damian says. "I
have made my decision. It is nobodies choice but mine." 
"Damn right it isn't," Todd agrees.  
"Damian," Father says, "what about this other... boy? How does he feel about
all of this?" 
Todd opens his mouth to yell but Grayson grabs his arms in a strong grip that
makes the beta shut up. Damian swallows hard, unsure of what to say and do.  
"The other boy wants what's best for Damian, too," Tim finally says after what
feels like eternity. Father glares at Tim, looks like he is about to tell him
to stay out of it, when suddenly his eyes widen and he takes an actual step
back.  
There is dead silence in kitchen as Father looks from Damian to Tim and back to
Damian quickly. "You," he whispers when his eyes land on Tim once more. "That
is not possible." 
Tim swallows hard. "Well, it is," he says. "It's... yeah. It's me." 
"How?" Father yells. "How did this happen?" 
"Bruce, really?" Grayson buds in. "Is this really - " 
"Enough!" Bruce shouts. "I want answers. Now." 
"I... it was his, his heat. He... we... well," Tim finishes, swallowing hard.  
"Well spoken," Todd mumbles.  
"Jason," Grayson hisses.  
"And was that the only time?" Father continues. Damian closes his eyes. This is
not how he wanted his Father to find out. This is all going to hell. And he
should know, he has been there.  
"No, no it wasn't," Tim whispers. "It's been going on for a while." 
"For how long?!" Father roars.  
"Six months and twenty-three days," Tim answers instantly, making Damian turn
his attention towards him in surprise.  
"He is a manor," Father shouts then. "He is a child." 
Tim flinches as if he's been hit.  
"How could you do that your brother?!" Father continues.  
"It wasn't... like that," Tim tries to defend himself but he looks like he
knows it is a lost battle.  
"I don't care what you think it was, it is illegal, Timothy!" Father shouts.  
"Damian isn't exactly poster boy material for your average teenager, is all I'm
saying," Todd says then.  
"Jason, Bruce is right," Grayson says, glaring at Tim. "It was wrong." 
"Enough, all of you!" Father yells. "I cannot believe this. I trusted you, Tim.
I trusted you with my life. I brought you into my home, adopted you, made you
my son, thought of you – always – like my son and this, this is what you do?" 
"Bruce - " Todd begins.  
"Enough!" Father screams again. "I have heard more than enough! Statutory rape,
Timothy. Do you know what that is?" 
Tim's eyes widen and his skin pales sickeningly. "Bruce," he whispers, looking
like he's about to cry.  
"No," Todd snaps, "you cannot do that, you cannot turn your son over to the
fucking police!" 
"Damian is my son," Father declares, voice cold like ice.  
"We are all your sons," Grayson says then. Even he looks like he thinks this is
too much, like he might be sick. Damian knows that feeling.  
"I will do what I have to in order to protect - " Father starts up again but
Damian has had enough.  
"Stop IT!" He yells then, getting their attention instantly. "What the fuck is
wrong with all of you?!" He breathes harshly, the anger making it hard to see,
to think, to breathe. "You are all acting like fucking children!" Damian
doesn't think he has ever been this furious in his entire life. Or this close
to crying in front of his family. "What I do is my own choice. None of you, and
I mean none of you, gets a say in that. I might, in your country, be a minor
but I killed my first man when I was three. I was trained to be an assassin, I
know what it feels like to take another person's life. You," he
addresses Grayson, "made me Robin, made me fight crime every night. I saw
people being raped and butchered and killed and I was out there, every single
night, to help prevent that! And you," he says to Father, "allowed me to
continue as Robin. I am not a child! My age does not determine what I can or
cannot do. For most people maybe and that is all well and good. But not for me,
never for me. And you all know that, you know it better than anyone. You cannot
call me a child and treat me like a child when I have never had a childhood to
begin with! How dare you," he seethes, "how dare you do this to me?! I gave up
everything to be part of this family! I died for this family. I died. You don't
know what that's like. Todd is the only know who has any idea of what that
means. The constant feeling that maybe you don't belong here, that maybe you
were better of dead, that maybe other people deserved this second chance more
than you. The constant dread of not being good enough to deserve this. How can
you possibly say, knowing that I have been through all of this, that I am still
a child? In other societies, perfectly normal, reasonable societies, people my
age are considered adults or at least allowed to make decisions about their own
sex life. You don't get to talk to Tim like that." He inhales sharply, the
silence heavy around him. "You don't ever get to threaten him like that. He is
your son. You have always treated him more like a son than you ever did me. If
you ever talk to him again like that I will leave. Instantly. I love him, for
whatever its worth. We may not agree on many things, not even this," he puts a
hand on his stomach, "but that does not give you the right to act like this.
Ever." He takes another breath. "You are fucking hypocrites." 
He doesn't wait for an answer. He leaves because he can feel the tears sting
his eyes and he will not also cry after having just delivered that speech. He
vaguely hears Pennyworth seethe, "I hope you are all satisfied with yourself,"
before Damian runs up the stairs and into his room. He locks the door, throws
himself on his bed and he cries. He cannot remember the last time he cried.
Maybe when he came back from being dead, maybe when he saw Grayson again after
he back from Europe. It has been years. And so he cries like the child he just
argued he wasn't. 
After a while, someone knocks on the door carefully. "Master Damian,"
Pennyworth says. "There is tea for you when you want it. I will put it outside
the door for you. For what it is worth,I am very proud of you." 
Damian only cries harder.  
** 
"Damian," Grayson whispers miserably. "I am so, so sorry." 
This is the fourth time he has knocked on the door and whispered those words.  
"I... should have been better, done better. I hope... you can forgive me." 
He walks away after a while when he gets no answers. He always does. Damian has
stopped crying. He stopped crying hours ago. It's nearing midnight. He hasn't
touched the tea or the food Pennyworth has been leaving for him and he feels a
little bad about it. Just not enough that he can be bothered to move. He knows,
somewhere, rationally, that the reason he is acting this way is probably to do
with his hormones acting crazy. If he asks the nurse – Miss Stacy – about it at
his next appointment she will most likely agree and tell him it will only get
worse. He hates it though. He hates everything. And it doesn't help to know
that maybe some of his hate has to do with his pregnancy – at that moment he
simply hates. And feels sad and disgusted.  
He falls asleep and wakes up at around three o'clock at night when someone
starts a loud screaming match further down the hallway. It sounds like people
are throwing things and Damian pulls the cover up over his head.  
He pulls them away abruptly when his lock is picked and someone enters. He
wonders why they even have locks at all in this house.  
Jason Todd stands in the doorway, giving him a somewhat sad smile. Now that the
door is open he can hear the voices more clearly. It sounds like Father,
Grayson and Timothy.  
Jason steps into the room and closes the door behind him, drowning out some of
the screams instantly.  
"Look, kiddo, I'm sorry," he says.  
"Why are you sorry?" Damian asks. His voice is raspy, his eyes are red and
swollen and the streaks of tears are visible on his cheeks in the dim moonlight
that falls in through the windows. "You are probably the most sane person in
this household at the moment, however unbelievable that might seem." 
"Except for Alfie, of course," Todd says.  
"Of course," Damian agrees.  
Todd snorts a laughter and walks further into the room. He gestures for the
foot of the bed. "Mind if I sit?" 
Damian sighs but nods and Todd sits down.  
"Look, I am sorry. For everything. For the way those assholes are behaving. For
the way everyone seem to think they can make your decisions for you. I know I'm
not the worlds' best big brother but, if you want, we can get out of here right
now. Leave. Go wherever you want." 
At first, Damian thinks he means to one of his safehouses but then he
understands the full meaning of his brother's words and eyes widen and his
mouth falls open.  
"Out of Gotham," he says and it's not a question but Todd nods nevertheless.  
"Further, even," he says. "Europe, maybe. I've always wanted to go to Norway
for some reason. Supposed to be beautiful up there." 
Damian just stares. Once more he finds himself at a loss for words. "And when
would we come back?" 
Todd smiles sadly. "Whenever you want to," he says. "Never, if that's what you
decide." 
"You would leave your whole life, your vigilante friends, the Outlaws,
everyone, for me? Why?" Damian questions. "We may be brothers, Todd, but even
that has never warranted such a reactions as this from you before and I have
certainly been in many situations that were worse." 
Todd snorts at the way he voices it. "True, baby bat. And that was my fault,
that was me having my head too far up my own ass. This time it's not just you
or me though. Its this," and he puts his big palm on Damian's stomach, "and
you're right. This baby, although not very old, probably not anything more than
a dot at this stage, deserves better. You and I, we haven't had easy
childhoods. Shit, none of us have, but the two of us we've... well, we've been
to hell and back. We've fought with and for the League of Assassins. That's
something, kiddo. This baby deserves better than that. And we, the two of us,
we deserve better than that, too." Todd gives him a smile, brighter this time,
more earnest. "You deserve better than that." 
Damian chokes on air as he tries to compose himself. He might just start crying
again and he blames the fucking hormones. "This is very unlike you, Todd," he
finally decides on saying. "I'm not sure I particular like this side of you." 
"Shut up, Demon Brat," Todd says but the smile doesn't falter.  
Damian rolls his eyes but then – to his own surprise – puts his hand on top of
Todd's. Todd looks a bit surprised at this as well. "Thanks," he says, quietly.
"I appreciate it. But," he swallows, "I have to stay. I want to stay." 
Todd frowns briefly but then he nods in understanding. He rubs his thumb gently
over Damian's flat stomach before he retreats his hand. "Let me know if you
ever change that mind of yours, baby bird." 
Damian snorts and pushes the older boy away. "Shut up." 
Todd grins. Then he flops down next to Damian on the bed. "God, I'm beat," he
groans.  
"You're not sleeping here," Damian says.  
"I can't hear you, I'm asleep already." 
"Todd, get off this bed this instant!" 
His response comes in the form of loud, excessive snoring noises and Damian
groans loudly and pulls the covers back over his head.  
** 
Damian opens the door when Grayson knocks for the tenth time the next day. His
brother is nothing if not frighteningly stubborn.  
As soon as the door is open, Grayson pulls him into an embrace. "I'm sorry," he
says instantly. "I'm so, so sorry." 
"Tt, I know," Damian says as he wraps his arms around his brother. "I know." 
They talk (because Grayson demands talking, he always does) about feelings.
Damian isn't too fond of it but if it helps Grayson he can accept it. His
brother talks and cries through the better part of an hour before Damian
finally snaps and tells him it is okay.  
"We all make mistakes, Grayson, and I forgive you for yours!" 
This only succeeds in making Grayson cry harder of course.  
Damian resigns to stay and talk with his brother until Grayson – and maybe
himself as well – are all good.  
** 
He avoids his father rather gracefully. He is fully aware of what he's doing
and so is the rest of the manor. Todd and Tim has both left but Grayson is
still hanging around and him and Pennyworth seem more than okay with lending
him a hand in avoiding his Father.  
It lasts for almost a week. Five days to be precise. Without Pennyworths help
he wouldn't have made it trough one, of course, and this is why butler deserves
the very expensive handmade tea set and the painting of the whole family (Cass,
Brown, Gordon and Duke included, of course)(and that Damian painted himself, of
course, of course) that Damian got him for his birthday.  
Damian is sitting on his computer, finishing an assignment for one of his
online courses, when Father bursts into the room.  
"Damian," he says, somewhat out of breath.  
"Father," Damian says. "What are you doing here?" 
'Here' meaning the old spare rooms in the west wing where no one ever is and
the internet connection is simply horrible.  
"Looking for you," Father says.  
"Why are you out of breath?" 
"I was running from your brothers," he says as if that is totally acceptable.  
"Brothers?" Damian exclaims. How many of them? he wonders. 
"Yes," Father says. "May I come in?" 
"You already are in." 
"Damian," Father sighs. "Please?" 
Damian finally gives up with a short nod and Father closes the door behind him
at the same time as Damian closes his laptop shut.  
"What are you working on?" 
"School work," he answers shortly. 
Father nods, biting his lip. "Do you... do you want to go back to high school,
Damian?" 
Damian arches one eyebrow questioningly.  
"I mean, I know you went there for a year and didn't like it and we agreed you
could be home schooled instead but maybe you - " 
"Father what is this about?" Because, honestly, Damian isn't sure anymore.  
Father looks... awkward; he looks like has no idea what to do with his big
hands, how he's supposed to stand or where his eyes should look.  
"What happened the other day was unacceptable," he finally settles on after a
few seconds of silence. "All of it." He clears his throat. "But most of allI
was unacceptable." 
Now Damian lifts both his eyebrows in utter surprise. 
"I know I haven't always been the best father to you, Damian. I know. And...
you're right, we have no right to call you a child when none of us have ever
really treated you like a child. We have tried, sure, but we... well I have
been quick to give in. I should have fought harder for you to socialize with
people your own age. Instead I gave up too quickly because it was a hassle.
That will never be okay. Dick tried harder than anyone to give you the life you
deserve and sometimes... sometimes I think it would have been best if you had
stayed with him even after I came back." 
"Father," Damian whispers horrified.  
"But all that really matters is that you are right, Damian." Father meets his
eyes then. "We call you a child and I punish you like a child and yet we take
you out every night and ask you to fight crime that would terrify and terrorize
even grown men." 
"I'm not scared," Damian feels the need to say.  
Father smiles. "I know, Damian. I also know that with your childhood, growing
up with the League, you have never been allowed to just be a child. No one
should know what it feels like to kill a man, especially not when they are
three years old. The things your mother asked of you and the things I continue
to ask of you... they are not okay. They are far from. And it is even worse
when I then call you a child like I did and use it as an argument. It was
unfair. It was very unfair. And I am sorry, Damian. I am very sorry." 
Damian feels his father put a hesitant hand on shoulder. 
"Are you taking Robin from me?" he asks, voice small. 
"No," Father smiles. "Maybe I should but I can't." 
Damian nods in relief. "And... Timothy?" 
Father flinches and look down but doesn't take his hand away. "I cannot...
think that what happened between you two is okay. Because despite everything I
just said, in my mind, you are a child. You are my child, Damian. And your
brother should have known better. Seven years is a lot when one of you is still
only seventeen. With that said, however," he continues when he sees Damian goes
to open his mouth, "however I do recognize that our family is... an usual one
and that, above all else, I love you and I love Tim and I want what is best for
you. For both of you. I don't know what that means yet, Damian, but I know
we'll figure it out together. Like a family. And I won't do anything that you
don't want me to. This is your baby and, as such, also your decision. And I
support that. No matter what." 
"Thank you, Father," is all the teenager can say then.  
Father smiles back, squeezing his shoulder.  
Then they hear a loud crash followed by Todd and Grayson shouting in horror.  
Damian rolls his eyes and Father frowns.  
"I think we better go see what your brothers are doing and stop them before
Alfred gets his hands on them," he says. "Do you want to join me?" 
Damian smirks. "Tt. certainly," he says.  
They leave the room together, Father's hand still on his shoulder
supportively. 
** 
After the knock he waits for a few minutes before Tim throws the door open. 
"Oh," he says surprised when he sees Damian. "I didn't... think it was you. I'm
waiting for Kon to drop by with some files... never mind. Hi." 
Damian smirks. "Hello." 
"Do you... you probably want to come in?" 
"That would be appreciated, yes," he answers and steps into the messy
apartment.  
"Do you want something to drink? I have water? And coffee? I can make some tea,
as well," Tim says as he hurries into the kitchen.  
"I am perfectly fine," Damian answers as he follows him.  
Tim is leaning over the counter, looking like he is composing himself for
something very difficult.  
"Timothy?" Damian questions. 
The older boy turns around and looks at Damian.  
"Damian," he whispers back. "I don't know... what to say." 
Damian nods. "Then let me speak," he says. "Todd has made me aware that he has
spoken to you, on several occasions. Grayson as well. They have both informed
me you regret the way everything played out and you wish you could have done
and said some things differently. I want you to know that I, too, regret
certain things. I do not, however, regret that it happened nor do I regret the
way it happened or, least of all, that it was with you." 
Tim swallows hard but doesn't say anything.  
"I am, for reasons I cannot understand myself, in love with you. I believe you
know this already. Of course, after everything, things cannot stay the way they
were before, however," he smirks, "joyful they were." 
He takes a certain pleasure in watching Tim blush. 
"You know what I want. I want to have this child – our child – and I want you
to be part of your child's life. I understand if cannot be as its other parent
and I will not force you to. I understand that none of this is what you want
and I understand that I cannot ask this of you, but," Damian looks away, "I
love you and I want our child to love you, too." 
There is a heartbeat of silence between them and then Tim stumbles forward and
puts his hand on Damian's shoulders.  
"Damian," he whispers. "Dami, my Dami." 
This time Damian blushes.  
"I love you. I love you so much. I love you more than I should. Everything they
have said about how I was a bad brother and how I am the eldest, it is all
true. No, it is. I shouldn't have done it, I should have waited." 
"I wanted you to," Damian says.  
Tim smiles. "I wanted me to, as well. I don't... know what to do. Because I
love you. I am in love with you and... yes, I didn't... I thought we should
wait, I thought we weren't ready. A part of me is still afraid we aren't ready.
But I have seen the way you fight for this child, for our child, already and I
can't help but think we'll be alright. And no matter what I never meant for you
to think that... that I didn't want you. I wanted you, I will always want you.
Hell, that's what got us into this mess to begin with. And it's messy right now
but I know that I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to make you think I
was giving up on you, on us, because that wasn't it. That was never it. And,"
he swallows, "I want to be in this child's life. I want to be in your life,
too. I want us to be this baby's parents and I want us to be the best fucking
parents any child ever had." 
Instead of saying anything – Damian feels like enough has been said these past
couple of weeks – he wraps his arms around Tim and kisses him with a hunger and
a need that makes his inside burn with desire. Tim returns the kiss easily,
like it comes naturally to him, like he was always meant to stand with his arms
around Damian like this.  
Damian thinks – no, he knows, that everything will be okay. He has his
brothers, he has his Father and Pennyworth, when he gets around to telling him
what's up he will also have Jon but, above all, he has Tim and they have this
baby and that is more than enough. 
They only break apart because Kon bursts into the apartment and starts
screaming in horror at the sight of them. Tim snarls angrily and throws his
coffee cup after his friend.  
Damian puts his hand on his stomach and smirks at the pair of them as they
chase each other and, he has to admit, he could probably get used to this.  
 
                        "When morning comes before us  
                           We will start to build   
                        A world so far from this dust  
                          A world that is fulfilled" 
 
 
End Notes
     That was a mess amirite
     I really wanted Cass and more Steph in there but I am not too god
     with the girls just yet, hopefully I will get there.
     I hope none of them were too OOC.
     The poem is my sister's and I think it's actually half-decent. It's
     the beginning and the end and the title of it is "The world that we
     have build" wuup
     Again: work of fiction. They are dressed in flashy costumes and fight
     crime at night. And I own none of the rights to any of it, sadly.
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