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Alfred sighed as he brushed a few stray hairs out of Damian’s face.
Damian’s face scrunched up in response to his ministrations in a way that made Alfred’s heart skip a beat.
He straightened Damian’s bedsheets with a definitive tug before looking around the room.
He felt a twinge deep in his chest at the empty chairs and the lack of people standing silent vigil at the door.
Sighing again, he took the seat on Damian’s right side, leaning back in the spot that should have been occupied by Damian’s father.
“I’m sorry, Master Damian,” He said, flattening the already immaculate sheets, “I am sure that they will come to visit soon enough. They are just,” He hesitated, “occupied with trying to solve this mystery you seem to have fallen into.”
Even if Damian did not respond to the sound of his voice, the lie tasted sour on his mouth.
“I expect you to be awake the next time I see you,” Alfred said, as he rose, “I will bring you your lunch then.”
Alfred paused at the door to the room.
“And I hope that I will not be alone then.”
As Alfred walked down the hall, he couldn’t help but pause when he heard a loud whoop coming from Timothy’s room.
He gathered himself before slowly looking around the door frame into the room.
“Fucking red shell!” Jason swore, “Where the fuck did you even get that?”
“Sounds like a skill issue to me,” Timothy crowed, as he tossed his controller down onto the couch next to him.
“Well looks like second place goes to Tim,” Richard said, leaning back with a self-satisfied smirk, “and first place goes to me.”
“Shut up, Dick,” Both Timothy and Jason snapped at the same time.
“That was creepy.”
Timothy and Jason locked eyes and both of them grinned.
“What about that was creepy?” They said in perfect unison.
“Stop that,” Richard said, scooting away from them.
“Stop what?”
“Oh my gosh you’ve both been possessed.”
“Join us Dick!” Jason and Timothy chanted together reaching for him.
“No, no, no,” Dick screeched, “Get away!”
Alfred leaned back out of the door frame and continued down the hallway, ignoring the screams and laughs following him.
He would never wish that any of his charges felt more down and dejected, Lord knows they were well familiarized with those feelings, but a small part of him couldn’t help but mourn the little boy sleeping right now in a lonely room just a little bit down the hallway.
Alfred turned into the main manor and began heading down to the main study.
Damian did not make himself easy to love, but he was surprised that he seemed to be the only one to look past the facade of sarcasm and indifference and see the small child so ready to care and give his whole self for so little in return.
Alfred sighed and turned the ancient hands of the grandfather clock, hearing the mechanism behind them clunk and shift.
No matter, Alfred thought, steely determination causing his shoulders to straighten, he would love Damian enough for the rest of them until they finally caught up.
With this resolution firm in his mind, he went into the dark behind the clock, ready to seek out any information about Damian’s condition from Bruce.
“It’s a memory erasure spell,” Raven said, watching the video back again, “I’m sure of it.”
Bruce grunted once, leaning back in his chair next to the Batcomputer.
“He’s asleep right now?”
Bruce grunted again in response.
Raven sighed, rewinding the video again.
Bruce felt his heart clench as he watched his son race into the warehouse and tackle the magician they were chasing to the ground.
Raven paused the video and zoomed in on the few pixels that comprised the magician’s face.
Bruce was nothing but grateful that Tim was able to find this security camera and access it’s video, but he couldn’t help but wish that the footage was in one of his own, high definition cameras.
The magician’s recited something before the screen went white. When the blinding flash faded, Damian was lying limp on the ground and Dick was furiously pounding the magician into the ground.
Raven paused the video once more, scrolling back to the white flash.
“So what can be done to reverse it?”
Bruce almost jumped a foot in the air at Alfred’s voice. The man could move almost silently when he wished to.
Raven glanced sideways at him before turning back to the screen. Bruce felt his face grow warm. She had not even flinched.
“It is a simple enough spell to reverse, but the issue here is that I am unsure which variation he used.”
Raven watched the magician recite the spell once more.
“I can narrow it down a little. It would have to be a verbal spell. That’s the only way he could have casted it while being wrestled to the ground. No ritual was completed before either, since he did not have the time. The white flash makes me think that we are dealing with a spell that is specialized for combat. It both incapacitates the immediate enemy and blinds any others that are around.”
Raven rose from the computer, turning to Bruce.
“You have the magician in custody?”
“Yes, although he is in no condition to speak right now. My son did quite a number on him.”
“You will tell me once he is able to be interrogated. I will come here and get him to tell me what spell he used, and then I will be able to undo the damage.”
Bruce frowned a little at her tone, but nodded anyway.
“What should we do until then?” Alfred asked before Bruce could.
Raven shrugged.
“He will be confused. I do not know how much he will have lost, but any amount will be disorienting. Keep him calm as best you can. Stress can have adverse effects on combat magic. It may even be best to keep the issue from him until he recovers his memory. I would suggest finding when he thinks he is and coming up with a story that corroborates that.”
“Anything else I should know?” Bruce asked as she began to create a portal.
“Yes. The Magician’s Convocation is occurring right now, which I am sure you were already aware of. Since I am a junior member, I am able to come and go without too much fuss, but I would appreciate it if you did not call me again until the week is over.”
Bruce nodded his head once.
“Thank you for all of your help, dear,” Alfred said, shaking her hand, “Please let us know if there is anything we can do for you.”
Alfred gave him a sharp look, and Bruce felt like a boy again, being scolded for his lack of manners.
“Yes,” Bruce said, taking Raven’s hand from Alfred, “Please do not hesitate to reach out.”
Raven nodded once before walking through the portal.
“Well, I will be up in the young master’s room,” Alfred said, turning to leave, “Will I be expecting your company?”
Bruce shook his head.
“I want to look more into this memory erasure spell first.”
Alfred nodded his head once and turned to leave, and Bruce couldn’t help but feel like he had answered wrong.
Alfred entered Damian’s room with a bowl of vegetable broth and a loaf of bread along with a pitcher of orange juice balanced on a silver tray.
He was surprised to see the young master already sitting up in his bed.
“Master Damian,” He greeted, carefully putting the tray to the side, “How are you feeling?”
Damian studied him closely.
“I am well,” He said slowly, “Will my mother be seeing me soon?”
Alfred took a sharp breath in.
Time. He needed to figure out what time Damian thought he was in.
“She is otherwise occupied currently,” Alfred said, carefully, “I am charged with your care until she is able to return. My name is Alfred Pennyworth”
Damian nodded once.
They stood in silence for a little before Alfred remembered the tray of food.
“First, you must eat.”
Damian frowned slightly but nodded his assent.
As Alfred assembled the service, he felt Damian’s eyes watching his every move. Alfred was reminded of the little birds that sometimes perched themselves on the kitchen windowsill. Watching his movement with a mix of curiosity and fear, ready to take off at a moment’s notice.
As Alfred placed the bed tray on Damian’s lap, he looked up at Alfred with such a serious expression that Alfred couldn’t help curl a loose hair behind Damian’s ear.
Damian flinched back slightly at the contact and Alfred cursed himself. Of course the young master would not be comfortable with him. He was still a stranger.
“My apologies,” Alfred said, taking a step back.
Damian studied him again with those big, scared eyes before he turned to the food in front of him and quickly finished the whole bowl of soup and the entire loaf.
“Excuse me,” Damian said, as Alfred watched him sip on a glass of orange juice, “I seem to have,” Damian paused before taking a breath to gather himself, “I seem to have forgotten how I got here. Would you be able to explain that to me?”
“Your mother had a business matter that has left her unable to attend to you currently,” Alfred said, studying Damian’s face, “However, she did not deem it wise for you to wait in Nanda Parbat until she returned.”
Damian nodded once, taking another sip from his orange juice.
“So, she has given you to your father to continue your training until she returns.”
Damian choked on his orange juice, and Alfred had to restrain himself from going to his aid as Damian coughed into his arm.
“Excuse me?” Damian asked, eyes watering slightly from his coughing, “Could you please repeat that?”
Alfred had a moment to marvel at the softness in his voice and the tender hope that it conveyed.
“You have been given to your father’s care for the foreseeable future, Master Damian.”
Damian let out a small, “Oh,” and looked down.
“I am here to answer any questions you may have,” Alfred said, crossing his arms behind his back.
“When will we begin training?”
“That is up to your Father,” Alfred replied, but as Damian’s hands clenched the linen sheets he could not help but add, “but I am sure he will begin as soon as you are feeling well enough.”
“I feel well enough now!” Damian said, looking up with fierce determination, “I am not weak!”
Alfred hid a small smile at the reaction. It seemed like Damian always was a little spitfire.
“We are well aware of your capabilities, young master,” He assured, “You have just suffered from a magical injury recently that we need to ensure will not injure you further.”
Damian nodded, looking down again.
“I will now go and inform your father that you are awake,” Alfred said, cleaning up the empty dishes, “feel free to make use of anything in this room in the meantime.”
“Thank you,” Damian said in such a small voice that Alfred turned back to him.
Damian was staring at his hands which were clutching the bedsheet as if they were a lifeline.
“Is there something the matter, young master?” Alfred asked in his gentlest voice.
“Will he…” Damian’s voice trailed off, “I was just wondering if he…”
“Ah,” Alfred said, understanding the doubt that Damian would not bring himself to voice, “I am sure your father will be delighted to see you.”
Bruce stood at his son’s door, hand hovering over the doorknob. Alfred had informed him Damian believed that he was going to be living with them until his mother returned from a mission. Alfred had also told him that Damian was quite anxious and had requested that he be gentle.
The threat behind those words were enough to make Bruce shudder even now.
He took a breath, knocked once and pushed the door open.
Damian was seated up in his bed, a book open on his lap. Bruce recognized it as one of the old encyclopedias from his father’s library. He hadn’t known that Damian had it in his possession.
As his gaze met Damian’s, Bruce was startled by the fear he saw there. He couldn’t remember the last time Damian looked scared. Nervous, yes, angry, definitely, but never scared.
The anxiety in his son’s eyes drew out the softness in his cheeks and the fragility of his small body, and Bruce was suddenly and completely reminded that his son was just a child.
“Hello there, Damian,” Bruce said softly, before taking a seat at Damian’s right side.
Damian’s gaze followed his even movement, and his big eyes reminded Bruce of the fawns he would sometimes see in the woods around Wayne manor.
He half-expected Damian to jump up and run away like they did whenever he got close, but instead Damian shifted so that they were face to face.
“Hello,” Damian replied in the softest voice Bruce had ever heard from him.
They stared at each for a little, and Bruce could not help but marvel at the eyes and nose and small mouth upturned in a frown and all the little planes of his son’s face. It was like he was seeing him for the first time.
Damian looked down, clenching his hands into fists.
“I’m your father,” Bruce said, the words feeling so much softer than the first time he had said it.
Damian nodded once, refusing to look up.
“You’ll be staying with us for a while until your mother comes back, okay?”
Damian nodded again.
“Alfred has told me that you want to start training as soon as possible.” Bruce said.
That finally made Damian look up.
“We can start right after we clear you medically, okay?”
“Okay,” Damian replied, meeting his eyes for a second before looking back down, frowning.
Bruce felt his heart melt at Damian’s small scowl.
He couldn’t help himself from ruffling Damian’s hair as he rose.
“Alfred will be back in here to run a few tests on you and then I’ll show you around the mansion.”
He felt Damian’s gaze on him as he turned around and left the room.
As he closed the door behind him, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had gained another look at one of Damian’s facades or if he had finally glanced behind them for the first time.
“You lied to me,” Damian complained as Alfred put away his medical instruments.
Alfred couldn’t help but chuckle at his tone. The young master had thawed to him incredibly quickly. He supposed that he was not used to people showing him kindness so easily. And of course the fact that he was supposedly the servant his father had entrusted to take care of him did not hurt.
“And how did I do that, Master Damian?”
Damian looked down at his shoes, completely new to him, but in reality the ones that Richard had picked up for him months ago.
“You said that Father would be delighted to see me.”
Alfred felt his smile freeze on his face. If he found out that Bruce had somehow already treated his son poorly, he did not know what he would do.
“And what did he do?” He asked, slowly, trying to keep the anger out of his voice.
Damian shrugged once, leaning back from where he was sitting on his bed.
“He kept looking at me weird and then he messed up my hair.”
Alfred felt his rage melt away.
“Ah,” He said and continued to put his instruments away, “Well here in the States, we see the messing up of one’s hair as a sign of endearment.”
“Oh,” Damian said, looking up at him with big green eyes that made Alfred’s heart melt, “That’s a little strange, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“I suppose it is,” Alfred said with a laugh as he closed his bag. Suddenly something dawned on him, and he turned and studied the young master again.
“Damian?”
“Yes?” Damian asked, looking up from where he was fiddling with his shoelaces.
“If you ever have any questions about something we do that you find strange, please do not hesitate to ask me. I promise you that no one in this household means you harm or disrespect.”
Damian nodded before looking back down at his shoes.
Alfred shook his head once before turning back to his bag. How had he so easily overlooked his charge? Anyone moving to a new country would be expected to suffer from culture shock, what more someone moving from an isolated fortress to the house of a billionaire who regularly dressed up in a bat costume while prowling the streets.
“Alfred?” Damian asked, breaking his train of thought, “will my Father be accompanying us on this tour?”
“Yes, I believe he said he would be up shortly.”
Damian nodded once, before swinging his legs back and forth from where they did not yet touch the floor.
Alfred couldn’t help the huge wave of regret and guilt that welled up in him. Damian was a boy. A mere child, and he had been unceremoniously dumped from one shitshow of a life into another without the smallest grace or leniency given to him.
Alfred would never forget how terribly Damian had wounded Timothy, but right now, sitting in front of this little boy who had been confused by the act of a simple head pat, he could not help but wonder how much of Damian’s anger had stemmed from his confusion and fear.
“This is where all of the bedrooms are,” Bruce explained as they walked down the hallway. Damian looked around him, seriously considering the dark oak hallways around him and nodded once, as if they were to his satisfaction.
Bruce couldn’t help the grin that was spreading across his face. His son was just so cute.
“We have a rule here that if you want to enter someone else’s room, you knock first, so just try to remember that.”
Damian nodded again, looking up at him with serious, green eyes.
Bruce squeezed the small hand entwined in his own. He had almost not believed his ears when Alfred suggested that he hold Damian’s hand, but when he had tentatively offered his open palm to the young boy, Damian had quickly accepted it.
He remembered how Damian had mentioned, in an offhand sort of way before, that he was not far from his mother’s side for the first part of his life and stopped to consider the difference between that and the independence Damian had been thrust into when he arrived in Gotham.
He didn’t remember teaching Damian the rules of the household before. Had he really just assumed that Damian would figure it out himself? He supposed he had managed it, but how many of their early arguments had ended with Damian looking at him like he had grown another head? And how many of those disputes were just Damian navigating a world governed by rules that no one had taken the time to teach him?
He squeezed Damian’s head again, trying to wrestle with this sudden onslaught of guilt that seemed to settle in his gut.
“Are you settling in alright?” Bruce asked, trying to keep his voice light.
“The arrangements are quite comfortable,” Damian replied, swinging their hands a little in a way that made Bruce’s heart fill, “I especially appreciate the company of Pennyworth.”
When he said this, he looked behind them to where Alfred was trailing them silently and gave a tiny small.
Alfred returned the smile, and Bruce couldn’t completely ignore the twinge of jealousy that rose in his chest.
“I have something cool to show you next, Damian,” He said, gaining Damian’s attention again.
He was going to save the Batcave for later, but a man has a right to impress his son.
When they entered, however, Dick, Jason and Tim were all seated at the Batcomputer whispering about something.
Bruce froze, suddenly reliving the terrible moments after Tim and Damian were introduced last time. He looked down at the boy holding his hand, who was now hiding behind his leg, casting nervous glances around the canve.
“Damian,” He said, getting down on his knee so that they would be face to face, “I forgot to tell you early, but you have three other brothers.”
“Brothers?” Damian repeated, eyes growing wide.
“Yes,” Bruce replied, trying to ignore the way his heart was beating, “Three of them. I understand that you were taught that you were to be my heir, and maybe one day that will be the case, but now please treat them with respect. I care for them as deeply as I care for you.”
Damian frowned but nodded.
Bruce ruffled his son’s head again, unable to help himself.
This time in response, Damian looked up to him and gave him a small smile. Bruce felt his heart melt in response and had to restrain himself from sweeping Damian into a bear hug.
Instead, he stood back up, squeezed Damian’s hand once and cleared his throat.
All three of the boys looked up at him. Tim’s gaze flicked from where he was standing to Damian’s hand in his to Damian standing stiffly at his side.
Before he could say anything, Damian offered his other hand to the boy.
“My name is Damian Al-Ghul,” He said in a voice that only shook a little, “It is very nice to meet you.”
Tim studied the hand and the gaze of the one offering it and refused to shake it.
“My name is Tim,” He said, crossing his arms, “You better not go thinking I’m any less than you. I’ll whoop your ass if you try anything on me, okay?”
Damian flinched as if Tim had struck him.
“Yes, Tim,” He replied in a small voice, pulling his hand back. He glanced back at Alfred.
Bruce sighed. He knew Tim had a right to be wary, but he hated to see how Damian’s eyes grew dull at the rejection.
“My name is Dick,” Dick said, trying to break the heavy silence, “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“Hello,” Damian said again, this time not offering his hand. Learning the rules of this new household.
“You can call me Jason,” his last son said, spinning lazily in his chair.
Damian nodded once and sank behind Bruce again, looking at Alfred again.
Well at least there wasn’t any blood this time. Small victories.
“I’m giving Damian a tour of the house now,” Bruce said, hoping that they would catch on quickly, “He will be staying with us until his mother comes to pick him up.”
Dick nodded quickly, trying to catch Damian’s eye. Bruce was unsure if he had even heard him.
“Cool,” Jason said, raising his head off the back of the chair as it spun, “When’s dinner?”
“Dinner will occur at 6:00 pm as it does every night, Master Jason,” Alfred replied.
“Boo,” Jason said before putting his head back down.
“Will he be joining us on patrol tonight?” Tim asked, giving Damian another sharp look.
“If Alfred clears him, then that should be fine. He’ll run with me, and I’ll make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble.”
“Good luck with that,” Tim muttered under his breath.
Bruce sighed and turned around. He would show the rest of the Batcave off later, when there wasn’t an audience.
Before he could lead Damian out, Damian turned back.
“I apologize if I caused any offense,” He said, bowing towards Tim, “I was unaware that hand shaking may be considered rude.”
Tim looked at him like he had just grown a third eye.
“It’s fine,” He said slowly.
Damian straightened up at that and then followed Bruce when he gently tugged on his arm.
Of all the ways this meeting could have gone, this was far from the worst.
Dinner was a strange affair. Bruce and Damian had arrived slightly after 6 pm as Bruce wanted to show Damian the grounds and gardens of the manor as well as the libraries and game rooms.
Alfred did not say anything that he usually would when one of his charges showed up late after seeing how the young master’s eyes grew wide at the sight of his three brothers already seated at the table waiting for them.
“Thank you for waiting for us, boys,” Bruce said, helping Damian into his seat.
“No problem at all!” Dick said, once again trying and failing to catch Damian’s gaze.
“Now can we eat, please?” Jason said, turning to Alfred, “I’m starving.”
Alfred had sighed, good naturedly.
“Yes Master Jason,” He said, uncovering the silver platter he had balanced on his right side. He placed the pot containing the beef broth soup he had made that evening in the center of the table and served them all.
He had made Damian a vegetarian version of the soup that had chunks of vegetables floating in a veggie broth. He saw Damian’s eyes light up when he cautiously bit into a carrot before he began eating with great gusto.
Soon all the bowls were empty except for Damian’s.
“Are you going to finish that?” Timothy asked, reaching for Damian’s bowl.
“Yes?” Damian, asked tentatively, wrapping his hand protectively around his bowl.
Timothy frowned, and Alfred remembered how Damian always seemed to push his leftover broth onto Timothy, saying that he did not want to finish it.
“It’s my favorite part,” He added, looking at Timothy out of the corner of his eye.
“Really?” Richard asked, jumping on anything Damian gave them, “Why’s that?”
Damian regarded Richard in a way that reminded Alfred of the way that he had seen new aunt and uncles study their young nieces or nephews.
“My mother always said that the broth contains several nutrients that are difficult to get otherwise. She always instructed me to finish my bowl and often gave me her serving of the broth as well. Besides, it is easily the most flavorful part of the dish and therefore the most enjoyable.” He gave Timothy another sideways glance, “I would not share my broth with just anyone.”
Alfred watched as Timothy took apart and pieced together the new information Damian had given him. He could almost see the moment that Timothy put together this new fact. That Damian loved drinking the broth but still gave it to Timothy each time.
“And what,” Timothy asked, gently, “does it mean if someone gives you their serving of broth?”
Damian frowned slightly.
“Well I suppose it means that they deeply care for you. And that they want you to be strong and healthy. That is what my mother used to tell me, at least.”
Timothy let out a small, “Oh,” and stared down at his empty bowl.
Damian looked around, confused at his reaction.
“Well, I do think it is time for the next course,” Alfred said, capturing their attention again.
He remained silent throughout the rest of the meal, and if Timothy put some of his chicken thigh onto Damian’s plate, he did not mention it.
“Let’s head out,” Bruce said to the small gathering of latex vigilantes in front of him. Damian stood behind him, fidgeting in his costume. Although Bruce knew it should fit him perfectly, Damian still adjusted some of the trimmings and garters and seemed wholly uncomfortable in it where he used to wear it like a second skin.
Now Bruce was wondering if the outfit was at all uncomfortable where it shouldn’t be and if Damian would have told him if that was the case.
“Pairs?” Jason asked, from where he was stretching.
“Sounds good with me,” Bruce said, rolling his own shoulders in anticipation of the strain they were about to undergo.
“I want Damian!” Dick said, looking up from where he sat perched on the edge of the Batcomputer counter.
“Damian will go with me,” Bruce pushed back.
“No fair!” Dick whined, “Bruce, you’ve been hogging him all day!”
“Just let him have Damian,” Tim said from where he was standing, waiting to head out, “We won’t hear the end of it the whole patrol if you don’t.”
“I don’t want Damian to feel uncomfortable, and he doesn’t even know you.”
“How is he supposed to get comfortable with me if you’re always keeping him all to yourself?” Dick asked, pouting.
“I would be able to go with Dick,” Damian said, his small voice echoing in the expanse of the Batcave.
“Are you sure?” Bruce asked, feeling a bit of disappointment. He knew as soon as Damian opened up to Dick, his brief Damian monopoly would be over for good.
Damian nodded and when Dick offered him a hand, he took it.
“Be careful out there, boys,” Bruce said, trying to not so obviously direct it especially at Dick, “No injuries allowed tonight.”
“Whatever happened to no injuries allowed tonight?” Jason asked, tossing his helmet onto the counter.
“I didn’t expect him to just take off on his own!” Dick protested, crossing his arms.
Damian looked up at both of them before flinching where Alfred was pressing antiseptic into a cut he had received on his head.
“You were supposed to be looking after him,” Tim said, as he sat holding Damian’s hand, “Next time he’s patrolling with me.”
“What?” Dick squawked, “No! Wait, Tim–”
“And you,” Tim said, turning his attention to Damian, “what possessed you to jump into a 4 v. 1 with no backup?”
Damian looked at him, confusion clear on his face.
“I am supposed to be the first,” He said slowly.
“What?” Jason asked, walking over to where Alfred was now bandaging the largest cut and moving onto studying the many bruises littering Damian’s upper body.
“I am supposed to go in first,” He repeated, “I am the smallest, the slowest, and the weakest. If I am injured by a surprise attack, we are at the least loss and it gives the rest of you a chance to adapt.”
The room fell silent.
“No, nope, nuh uh,” Jason said, bringing his arms up, “We ain’t doing this self-sacrificial bullshit tonight.”
He took Damian’s face and gently turned so that he was looking at him.
“When we go out with a partner, it’s to minimize the chance that either of you get injured.” He jerked his head towards where Dick was sitting. “So it’s your job to make sure this numbskull doesn’t get himself killed, and it’s his job to make sure you don’t either. He can’t do his job if you’re off painting a giant target on yourself and prancing around all willy-nilly. Understand?”
He let go of Damian’s head, and Damian nodded once.
“Good,” Jason said, leaning back, “I can’t stand it when you think you're expendable because you’re not. No one will ever take your place, alright?”
Damian nodded again and looked away, blinking furiously. Dick got up from where he was sitting and threw his arms around Damian.
Damian paused at first, unsure of what to do, but when he realized that Dick would not be letting go anytime soon, he turned and buried his face in Dick’s chest.
Tim was quick to wrap his arms around the both of them and Jason was followed soon after, grumbling about group hugs the whole time he squeezed them tightly.
Alfred stood back and marveled at the tight circle of his three boys opening to welcome the fourth.
“I should now be able to reverse the spell,” Raven said, floating slightly behind him. The Magician Convocation had ended last night, and Bruce had finally called her in to interrogate their captured magician. It had been a week since Damian was first hit by the spell.
“And how long would it take?”
“The casting of the counter-spell would be around a minute. He would then fall back asleep as he did before and wake up with his memories.”
“And will he remember any of this time?”
“Partially. It will be like a dream to him.”
Raven stretched her neck slightly. Bruce knew that she had been up in meetings all week and felt a surge of gratitude that she had come immediately after the closing of the Convocation.
“And have you informed him about what I will be doing?”
Bruce sighed, scratching the stubble on his face.
“Yes, about halfway through the week Tim let something slip and Damian pieced the pieces together soon after. He took it surprisingly well. The boys have been telling him all about his older-self.”
“Interesting,” Raven said, “I suppose he is not one to be shaken easily.”
Alfred placed his hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump slightly.
“Yes Alfred?” He asked, trying to calm his racing heart. He swore that sometimes Alfred just appeared behind him.
“The boys are waiting for you, Master Bruce.”
When they arrived in the Batcave, Bruce couldn’t hold back his smile at the sight. The boys had huddled around the Batcomputer chair where Jason was furiously tapping his screen.
“Go! go! go!” Dick practically screeched, “He’s catching up!”
“Go left now,” Tim ordered, “There should be a shortcut you can use to widen your lead.”
“But that would put him through the grass which would slow down his current speed,” Damian pointed out, standing up on his toes to see over Jason’s arm.
“True, but the shortcut is worth it.”
Damian clicked his teeth in response, letting out a -tt- sound.
“Yes!” Jason whooped, “First place baby!”
He put his phone down and picked Damian up and tossed him into the air.
Damian let out a hoot and laughed when Jason caught him.
Jason’s eyes gained a mischievous tint.
“Go long, Tim!” He called, pulling Damian back as if he were a football.
Alfred cleared his throat and the boys looked up at him.
“Uhh,” Jason said, putting Damian down.
“I know that you are aware that we only play catch with balls, Master Jason,” Alfred said in an icy tone.
“Yes, Alfred, of course,” Jason said, smiling nervously.
“Very good,” Alfred said, turning to Raven, “The Mistress Raven is here to help our youngest master.”
Damian’s smile disappeared, and Tim was quick to put an arm around the small boy.
“It won’t hurt, right?” Dick asked, putting his hand on Damian’s shoulder.
“It will not hurt.” Raven assured, “But it will cause him to pass out, so I suggest sitting him down before we begin.”
“Wait,” Damian said, and all eyes turned to him, “before we do this, I want to say a few things.”
“Babybat,” Dick crooned, “It’s okay. You know we’ll love you no matter how hard you make it.”
“And you certainly make it hard,” Tim teased, poking him in the ribs.
“I just want to say something that I don’t think that older-me would say,” He said, looking down at his shoes, “I know that he’s angry and scared and stuff.”
“And that we love him regardless,” Jason added, ruffling his hair, “don’t forget that bit.”
Damian nodded, smiling up at Jason.
“I just wanted to say that I never would have asked to have a brother or sister because that would mean they would have to go through everything I did,” Damian paused, looking around at them, “but I always wanted one, and the fact that I get three of them and they’re all of you makes me so happy.”
“Damian!” Dick said, tears welling up, “You’re going to make me cry!”
“Get in line, Dickhead,” Jason said, wiping at his own eyes, “Goddamn brat, couldn’t pull the punches could you?”
“I always wanted a little brother,” Tim said, squeezing his shoulders, “I just never thought I’d get one that was my friend too.”
“I hope you’re comfortable with hugs,” Dick said, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead, “because you’re going to get a lot of them.”
“I love hugs,” Damian said, grinning, “even if I pretend like I don’t.”
Raven cleared her throat.
“Are we ready?”
Damian looked up at his family around him. Bruce took one of his hands and Dick took the other one.
“Yes,” He said, and Bruce squeezed his hand tight and saw Dick do the same.
“Okay, close your eyes.”
Damian followed her instruction and took a deep breath.
All he could do was hope that his older self would continue to love his siblings with all his heart and also let them love him back.