Chapter Text
It began with a loud flash of light.
Or, realistically, it started hours earlier, in the Cave. It was one of the few times all his siblings were gathered, Bruce off at a League meeting for the rest of the night—attempting to decide the best route for some alien related mission. And if Bruce wasn’t there, it of course meant everyone else was.
Damian was in the Batcave, typing up his mission report from the night before while his siblings trained and chatted behind him. “Just stop lying to yourself.” Dick Grayson, the eldest of Damian’s brothers, says while punching a punching bag.
“I’m not lying.” Tim rolled his eyes, holding the bag steady as Dick stopped his relentless hitting, allowing Jason a turn. “I think Ivy is genuinely my least favorite thing to deal with.”
“Cause the cuddle pollen?” Stephanie asks, pausing her push ups momentarily to look at Tim.
Jason answers for him, taking a swing art the bag, “Nah. Cause since Timmy turned twenty he doesn’t have the same immunity as before, ain’t that right?”
Tim lets go of the punching bag, roughly swinging it forward into Jason’s face.
“What’s that mean?” Duke says, stretching his leg—which was recently healed after being broken for months.
“It means Ivy uses her sex pollen.” Dicks words earn a grimace from everyone above twenty, and a scrunch of the nose from Duke, who was on his way to qualifying.
“You’d think,” Damian says with a roll of his eyes. “That in the three years Drakes had to adjust, he’d of gotten used to it.”
Tim shakes his head with a scoff. “Get off your high horse. You’re lucky you’re exempt from it.” Tim shudders.
“I think Gothams the lucky ones. I mean, imagine if Ivy had no morals and just hit random teenagers? With their hormones, it’d be insane.” Stephanie paused, then laughed to herself. “Imagine fourteen year old Dick Grayson with sex pollen. He’d be terrible.”
“Eh,” Barbara shrugs. “You didn’t know Dick in his teens. He basically was on sex pollen.”
“Could my ex girlfriend not talk to my little sister about my sex life as a teenager please?” Dick gives Barbara a look.
“Could my older brother stop referring to my ex girlfriend as his sister please?” Tim retorts for Barbara, who laughs and rolls over to high five him.
Dick rolls his eyes. “Imagine fifteen year old Tim getting hit with sex pollen.” Stephanie scrunches her noise. “That’d be bad. God, Timmy, you were such a slut.”
“Were?” Cassandra says from her spot beside Duke.
“Yeah. Didn’t you cheat on Bernard?” Duke points out, earning a loud laugh from Jason.
“I didn’t cheat.” Tim rolls his eyes like this is some long-lost argument. “We were on a break.”
“Okay, Ross Geller.”
“I regret letting Steph show you that show.” Tim mumbles.
“Letting? Pfft—nothing could’ve stopped me.”
The talking died down and all that can be heard for a moment is Jason’s fist against the punching bag. Once Jason stops and its Dicks turn, Dick starts speaking again. “I still don’t think Ivy’s that bad.”
“Okay, if not Ivy, Joker, or Scarecrow—“ Stephanie lists.
“Or mind-control or body swaps.” Duke adds, causing Stephanie to point at him.
“—Then what’s your least favorite crime?”
Dick shrugs, throwing a sharp punch at the bag that makes Tim stumble just a bit. “Probably time travel.”
“Having to time travel or dealing with time travelers?” Damian questions, finishing his mission report.
“Or getting lost in time.”
“Or getting lost in time.” Damian repeats Tim’s words.
“There’s a huge difference.” Barbara nods along.
“All of the above.” Dick stopped punching the bag, wiping sweat off his face. “I mean, time travel fucking sucks. And it always causes issues. Rarely ever makes them better.”
“True.” Tim nods. “I am really tired of meeting evil-me from the future.”
“Isn’t everyone?” Jason returns blandly.
“Can we add dimensional travel in a group with time travel?” Duke asks. “I really didn’t like meeting me from another Earth. It was so weird.”
Stephanie nods in agreement. “Yeah, personally I’d prefer evil me to whatever that was.”
“Dramatic.” Damian muttered, making his way to sit beside Duke and Cassandra.
“I’d say they’re different things but they’re definitely branches of Worldly Travel.” Tim says.
“I’d say.” Jason mimicked putting a finger up and using a nerd-y voice. “Shut up, know-it-all.”
Tim glares half-heartedly. “You first, drop out.”
“That’s weird.” Dick mumbles, ignoring Tim and Jason’s interaction. They were at each others throats one moment, guarding the others backs the next. More often than not they were doing the first option.
“What?” Cassandra asks but Dick just furrows his brows and goes to the Bat-Computer, typing a few things.
“Bro wants to be mysterious so bad.” Duke jokes, earning a far-too-loud laugh from Stephanie.
Dick doesn’t react to them, doesn’t even make a joke on how much Duke hates him (a very overused joke that Damian doesn’t even find funny in the slightest). He just says a short “Huh.”
Jason lets out an annoyed grunt. “God, Dickwad, just spit it out. Stop being so Bat, thought we already decided the cowl didn’t suit you.”
That get’s a laugh out of Dick. “Sorry. Just.” Dick shakes his head and points at the computer screen where a case file is pulled up. Even with his twenty-twenty vision Damian can’t see that far. He can just about make out the word Dilemma in bolded italics. “Anybody else notice that we haven’t had any…what did Tim call it? Worldly Travel in over a year?”
Immediately, everyone groaned. Dick raised a brow at the reaction. “You fucking idiot.” Duke shook his head, placing it in his hands.
“Jesus, no need to be so vulgar.” Dick says, walking back to Tim not even the slightest embarrassed that his comment induced this type of reaction from his siblings.
“’Course we noticed.” Jason says, throwing a random Batarang at Dick—which he dodges easily, as if it’s second nature. “It’s just one of those things you don’t mention. You know, so you don’t fucking jinx us?”
“Jinx?” Dick tilts his head at Jason as if he’s stupid.
“Jinx.” Tim repeats solemnly.
“I did not—Jinxes aren’t real!”
“Really, Dick?” Stephanies arms are crossed making her look like a disappointed mother. “I expected this type of behavior from Jason, maybe even Tim, but you? Really.”
“Jinxes aren’t real.” Dick turns to the one person in the cave who he knew would agree with him. “C’mon Dami, back me up?”
Damian’s siblings look at him expectantly. “Jinxes are nothing but ill timed coincidences.” Damian states.
“Ha!” Dick points at Damian while everyone else groans.
“That is to say,” Damian continues. “Our family is susceptibly prone to ill timed coincidences.”
“Ha!” Jason mocked Dick, while Dick took his place in groaning.
“Damian, you too?”
“Face it.” Cassandra says with a shrug, standing and walking over to leave the cave. “You’ve jinxed us.”
“They’re not even real!” Dick yells after her. Cassandra has no outer reaction, continuing her walk up the stairs with Dick following after. If they were capable of seeing the front of her face, Damian is sure they would see a cocky smirk.
“That’s how to be mysterious.” Stephanie says.
“Dick should really start taking notes.” Duke mumbles, standing up.
“Come on, Thomas.” Damian extends his arm which Duke takes gratefully. “You should prepare your leg for patrol. Who knows what Richard has cursed us with.”
Surely enough, hours later, the jinx had taken place. Damian had volunteered to patrol with Duke and oversee his first patrol back from recovery, even though it made him slower. Damian suspects it has something to do with guilt. They’re mid-fight when it happens. A bright flash of light.
Damian shuts his eyes quickly, incapacitating the mugger blindly. “Signal, control your abilities.” Damian half-scolds.
“Not me dude.” Duke responds, slamming a guys head into a wall. When Damians visions back he realizes the blinding light didn’t effect Duke at all. “Least I don’t think so.” Duke mumbles.
“No.” Damian looks across the street, to where a woman is holding her eyes. Through a window of a nearby apartment, he can see an old man rubbing his eyes. “I don’t think so either.”
Duke ties up the guys while Damian turns his comms on. “Anybody else—”
“Get the flashing white light from heaven?” Stephanie asks. “Yes.”
“Oh thank God.” Jason says in a monotone voice. “Thought it was Jesus trying to get me one-on-one.”
“Was it Duke?” Dick asks, using his real name. Either he was somewhere safe or he did not care to be cautious at all. Or both. Most likely both. “Cause that’s pretty impressive. Tell him I’m impressed.”
“He can hear you.” Damian says instead of correcting him.
“Duke,” Dick begins. Damian watches Duke’s face. “I’m impressed.” Duke doesn’t turn red—his dark skin doesn’t allow it. He does turn sheepish, however. He does that whenever faced with any ounce of praise, even from those he dislikes, Damian finds it infinitely odd.
“Thanks.” Duke says, writing a note on the bad-guys so the police officers know what to charge them with. “But that wasn’t me.”
“Fuck.” Stephanie mumbles just loud enough for the comms to catch it. “It was the jinx wasn’t it?”
“The jinx isn’t real!” Dick says immediately.
“Totally the jinx.” Cassandra agreed. She was back at the cave, keeping watch on cameras.
“What jinx?” Barbara asks. She’s also watching the cameras, being their man in the chair from the clocktower.
“Oh, you missed it.” Jason says casually. A gun shot goes off. “The literal Dick jinxed the fuck out of us.”
“I didn’t jinx anything.” Dick says, clearly annoyed. “All I said was that we hadn’t had a time travel or other dimension related issue in a while.”
“Don’t say it again!” Stephanie scolded.
“Sounds about right.” Barbara voiced, taking a loud sip of something. Probably a mango smoothie from Smoothie King, Damian knows she favored those. He’s had to pick up a few to ensure she wouldn’t snitch on him for going on patrol when he wasn’t meant to. “Typical Dick behavior.”
Dick huffs out loudly through his nose, causing a loud snort from Cassandra (which was then followed by a shaky breath that was none of theres, a goon Damian presumed, that had heard the Black Bat laugh and probably pissed himself in fear). “Are we here to talk jinx or fight crime?”
“Both.” Tim answers, the distinct sound of a breaking bone heard over the comms. “I’ve been told I’m a great multitasker.”
“Oh shut up, Restaurant-boy.” Dick retorts.
“You really wanna go there, Mullet-Man?”
“Both of you, shut up.” Barbara tells them. “I’ve got reports of something down at the bowery. A sword wielding something.”
“Slade in town?” Jason quesstions.
“God, I hope not.”
“Not sure. Whoever it is know’s what they’re doing. They’ve cut the camera’s in my view.” Barbara tell’s them. Damian turns to Duke who nods at him. Before anyone around can register it, the two are grappling off in the direction of the Bowery.
“Sword wielding.” Jason repeats. “Demon-Brat, that’s gotta be our criteria. A league member, maybe?”
“Already en route.” Damian informs. “ETA five minutes.”
“ETA two minutes.” Dick says back.
“You’re not needed.” Damian doesn’t mean it harshly, only it’s the truth.
“You’re not going alone.”
“He’s not alone.” Duke says with an eye-roll.
“Well, I’m already on the way.” Dick shrugs carelessly. “Seconds out, now. Plus, it was quiet. I need to hit something.”
“Nightwing, I am not a child—”
“He just want’s to make sure it’s not the jinx.” Tim responds.
There’s silence. Then, “Okay if—and I want it noted and documented that I said if—I believed in the jinx, which I don’t, then that would be why I am going to the Bowery.
“Arriving.” Barbara corrects, probably watching his tracker.
“Arriving at the Bowery.” Dick’s voice get’s quieter. “Robin, Signal, ETA?”
“Two.” Damian glances at Signal. “Perhaps three.”
“We’ll pick up the pace.” Duke assures.
“Is it just one person?” Barbara asks.
“Can’t tell. They look like they’re talking to someone.” Dick whispers. “Definitely not Slade. Could be LOA. God, has Talia been in town?”
“Watch yourself.” Damian says automatically, when Dicks tone takes on the unmistakable annoyed and disgusted tone he always gets when talking about Damian’s mother.
“Right, sorry to her offspring.” Dick apologized. “I’ll wait for you guys to get on scene before engaging.”
“Shit!” Stephanie yells.
“Hood—”
“Send me her location.” Jason says, not even allowing Barbara to finish.
“One minute and a half.” Duke says for Dick, who Damian can hear Hm in response. A loud exploding sound goes off.
“Sent. Red, you keep up with normal patrol.” Barbara instructs. “Black Bat, I’ll need you to put on the suit and do the same.”
“On it.” Cassandra says.
Another explosion is heard, this time followed by Stephanie and Jason’s yells. “Hood?”
“Fine!” Red Hood yells in response as if they’re not all right in his ear.
“Please tell me you brought real bullets for these assholes.” Stephanie says, also yelling.
“Always!” This exclamation is followed by several gun shots and Barbara’s loud sigh.
“Nightwing, Robin, Signal, I’m switching you three to a different line. If this is LOA, you’ll need complete silence.”
The sound of gun shots is cut off and suddenly all Damian can hear is the click of his grapple
True to his word, in one and a half minutes, Damian and Duke land quietly on the same roof as Dick. “Signal,” Dick nods. “Robin.”
“Nightwing.” Duke responds. Damian keeps his eyes trained on the silhouette of the person. They’re tall, whether or not their a female or male is yet to be seen. The frame of the person didn’t give much away, they were wearing a cloak that covered their body, when they turned Damian noticed it covered their face too. For a moment, Damian catches the insignia of the League of Assassins.
“Definitely the League.” Damian informs as quietly as possible. If they were LOA and sent here, they had to be highly trained. If they were here on their own regard… they’d have to be trained even more. “I saw the emblem.”
“Should we alert Batman?” Duke asks.
“Not until we know why they’re here.” Damian responds, his voice holding authority.
“B tends to overreact.” Dick supplies. “Is he alone for sure?”
Duke looks intently. “Yes. Completely alone, he’s sort of just staring at the wall. I don’t think he’s speaking.”
Maybe theres some mental health issue? It wasn’t rare among assassins. An assassin with a mental health issue is about as common as brown eyes.
The assassin turns, leaving the shadows, revealing that Duke was right and he is in fact alone.“I’m going in. You two stay here.” Dick jumps off the roof. “Swords and cloaks?” He calls out. “Think you’re in the wrong century, buddy. The medieval times were way back in 500 AD.”
“Nightwing.” A male voice calls out. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“You tell me.” Nightwing crosses his arms. “You’re the one in Gotham.”
The assassin turns their cloaked head to the side, as if in confusion. “You’re meant to be in Bludhaven.” That sounded far too familiar. Damian turns to Duke to see his reaction to the voice.
“Sounds—”
“Familiar.” Damian finishes with a nod of agreement.
“I move around a lot.” Nightwing says with a shrug. “What can I say? I’m a bird. We migrate.”
“A product of your ever changing environment, more like it.”
Damian and Duke watch as Nightwing tenses. “You need to get down there.” Damian tells Duke. “Use your ghost vision. See what he was talking to in the shadows.”
Duke nods in agreement. “I need an opening.”
“You’ll run out of time if we wait.” Damian says but he still doesn’t move.
“So, you gonna tell me why you’re wandering around Gotham with that sword?” Dick gestures to the sheathed weapon.
The assassin unsheathes it carefully but doesn’t angle it like he’ll attack. Is he waiting for Dick to attack first? That won’t happen. Unless he’s planting bombs or something. Then it might. “It’s quite a lovely sword, isn’t it?” The assassin says instead. “It’s an heirloom.” Damian can’t catch a look. “It was once my grandfather’s.” The man extends his arm, where a bracer lay covering his forearm. It looked expensive.
“Still sharp.” The man ran his sword over the bracer. The bracer clearly wasn’t just for decoration, even from the distance Damian could tell the man was harshly pushing his sword into his armor. Speaking of, Damian could seen the shine of the sword. The hilt was covered but Damian was sure it was beautiful, it looked extremely well kept for an assassins blade. Not that assassins blades weren’t well kept—they typically were, especially in the League of Assassins. It’s just that many assassins kept blood on their blades when coming to Gotham as an attempt to strike fear in the vigilantes.
It never worked, but the effort was there.
That wasn’t the only thing about that sword. It was insanely familiar. Like a distant memory he couldn’t reach. “It won’t pierce through my armor. Don’t misunderstand me, you always did, I value heirlooms but I also value quality.” He tells Dick. Always did. As if they knew each other. “Would you like to test it out?”
“You know the answer to that.” Dick responds casually. It’s clear this assassin thinks he knows Nightwing, and Dick’s going along with it. Getting a feel at the relationship these two have formed in the assassins mind.
“Yes.” The assassin nods. There’s silence. The only thing that can be heard is Damians soft murmuring. Quiet enough only Duke can hear it, he doubts the comms can pick it up.
In a slow, spaced out sort of voice, Damian says “Would you like to..” No. Not quite right, there was a difference in the tone Damian had and the tone Damian was aiming to mimic. It wasn’t said with a glare, but it wasn’t said only teasingly either. “Would you like to test it out?”
Perfect. An ounce of resentment mixed with familiarity, and completed with an emotion Damian couldn’t name but could reenact. “Shit.” Duke says quietly from beside him. “That was really good. Shit gave me the creeps.”
Damian says nothing, focusing on the way the assassin twisted his sword in his hand. “Yes, Nightwing.” The man repeats. “I do.”
It happens so fast, Damian is half surprised Dick has the ability to react. The sword swings for his arm. If it would’ve landed, it seem he would’ve sliced the limb clear off with no hesitation. “Let’s go.”
Duke gives him a look. Over time, Damian has grown able to read everyones reactions with their vigilante masks on, Duke is no different. His expression beneath the mask is something akin to annoyance. “We can’t just leave him. That’s a dick moves. Dick moves are his job.”
“No you imbecile,” Damian shakes his head. “We must go use your ghost vision. The window is closing.”
“Oh.” Duke nods. “Yeah, let’s go then.” Damian leads the way. Duke may be able to control shadows but that was rather new. Damian was raised in them. He knew how to use them to his advantage, shadow manipulation or not.
Once they were in the place the assassin once was, Damian left Duke to do his own thing, instead focusing on standing guard. And watching the fight on display in front of him. Nightwing wasn’t losing but he was very far from winning.
Dick could barely throw any hits and not a single one of them landed. He was fighting like he was distracted. Damian wondered if he was saying anything that Damian couldn’t hear. Perhaps the assassin was whispering harsh words so low the comms couldn’t pick it up. Or perhaps he wasn’t on the channel anymore. Maybe Damian wasn’t on the channel. Now that he thought about it, before he could only hear them because they were conversing so loudly, not because of Dick’s comms.
Odd.
Damian puts his hand to his ear with all intention to switch channels but he’s pulling away his hand in seconds with a grunt. It shocked him. It fucking shocked him. Ignoring the continuous shock, Damian pulled the communicator out of his ear, glaring at the assassin fighting form.
Who the fuck was this guy?
Damian glanced at Duke, his hand was out, touching the wall and he was staring off like he was in some sort of trance. Still in ghost mode, then. Duke would be fine alone. This assassin didn’t have any friends who could attack and Dick looked like he needed the assistance. Damian unsheathed his own sword. It was clean, Damian always cleaned it before and after patrol, an assassin habit. He’s seen Jason do it. Cassandra too, though her doing it is rare. As Damian mentioned before, weapon care is important among assassins.
Damian waits for an opening that he’ll enjoy. He doesn’t get the best one, but he gets a decent one when the assassin swings for Dicks neck. Damian blocks the swing with his own sword, stumbling a bit at the pressure. Either he was certain Dick would dodge it or he truly wanted Dick dead. Somehow, Damian thought it was the first. “Yield and you will be granted mercy.” Damian says, in true assassin style.
“Another one?” The man asks. “So similar. They’re getting eerily better. I applaud your cloning skills.”
Cloning skills. Cloning skills? Damian was not a clone. Clearly, this man believed so. “Who sent you?”
“So human like. Full of emotion. Taking notes from our—”
Damian doesn’t let him finish his sentence, nicking his cheek with his sword. The man doesn’t pause, just sucks in an angry breath and starts attacking again. Angrier. Harder. Great. Just what Damian need. “Just like your father.” The assassin says to Dick. “Finding replacements for those you fail. Like they mean nothing. Like I mean nothing to you!” The last sentence is screamed with so much hate, Damian falters for half a second.
The man’s sword swings and Damian thinks I will die here. He can see Dick out of the corner of his eye, nursing a leg wound, attempting to reach Damian in time. I will die again. Damian thinks. He’s not sure if it’s better that he’s going to die at the hands of another assassin or if he prefers to die at the hands of his clone, at the fault of his mother.
“Stop!” A voice yells out, loud and commanding. It’s obviously Duke’s voice. Duke’s voice has never exactly held authority. Damian has been compelled to listen to him but he blames that more on their bond and Duke’s high ability of persuasion. But his voice never had authority. Maybe to the members of the We Are Robin movement, but not to Damian.
Damian never saw him as his superior and Duke never showed that he wanted to be. They were equals.
But even then—with all those facts listed—Dukes voice made everyone pause. Dick momentarily stopped his crawling to his little brother, Damian exhaled sharply and looked over at duke, but most importantly—most surprisingly—the assassin stopped.
The assassin trying to kill him stopped.
The sword in the man’s hands fell, Damian had just enough time to roll out before it hit him in the chest. He was no longer facing Damian, but staring at Duke as if in a trance similar to the one Duke was in earlier while using his ghost vision. “Thomas?” The man asked, voice fragile sounding. He knew his identity. He knew. Duke didn’t even seem the least bit concerned.
“You’re… This isn’t where you’re meant to be.” Duke responded.
“Duke?” The man said. First name. There was emotion behind it. Strong emotion. Guilt, mourning, loss. Something of the sort. “You’re…”
“Signal,” Damian said, standing. “Do you know him?”
Duke didn’t answer, staring at the assassin. “No.” The assassin answered for him. “He doesn’t.” The assassin turned away from Duke, his body first as if he was afraid to take his eyes off him. “And I assume you two don’t either.”
“Oh, you think?” Dick says, glaring as he stood on wobbly feet, putting all his weight on one leg.
“I apologize profusely.” The assassin brings hands to his hood. “You see, none of you know me, not this version of me, but I know you.” The hood falls and Damian stares. “My name is Damian Wayne.” He says. “And I don’t think I am from your time.”
They all stare at him, not sure of what to say. Damian breaks it. “You messed with our comms. Get them back online.”
The assassin—Damian…Assassin Damian—hesitates before reaching into his cloak slowly and revealing a WayneTech Ipad. It’s similar to the ones Damian knows his father’s company is releasing now, but different enough it looks like it’s of the future. “Done.” He says after a couple minutes.
Damian places the comm he abandoned earlier in his ear. “Oracle? This is Robin.”
“Robin!” Oracle sounded pleased to hear his voice. “We lost you on comms. I just sent Red Robin after you.”
“I’m still two or so minutes out.” Tim relayed. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Duke says. Damian doesn’t miss the way Assassin Damian pauses at his voice, drawing himself back to Duke easily. “Just fuckin’ peachy.”
“Oh, Dickwad, what’d you do?”
“Me?” Dick asks. “I didn’t do shit!”
Damian shoots him a look. “That’s his I’m pissed at Dick-slash-Bruce voice. And Bruce isn’t in Gotham right now, so.” Stephanie says. “What’d you do Dick-shit?”
Dick doesn’t answer for a long moment. By the time he’s even attempting, Tim’s landed beside them, staring at Damian and Assassin Damian. “Holy shit.”
“What?” Jason says loudly. “I don’t like being out the loop! This is like when I died all over again.”
“Discrimination, I scream.” Stephanie says dramatically. “Injustice!”
“Seriously,” Barbara began. “What the fuck is going on?”
They all—save for Assassin Damian—turn to Dick. “I may have jinxed us.”
“Oh, fuck.” Is the only response they get.