I just love Dick and Damian's whole relationship. Anyway, this is slightly AU. Follows a bit of comic canon but set in a Earth-16 (Young Justice Universe).
Damian Wayne's scowl deepened, as he leaned on the veranda's railings, observing the scene before him. Across the expanse, Tim found joy in his younger brother's situation. While they have developed a sort-of ceasefire and sometimes even, cuddling relationship, attempted murder on multiple occasions was something the young adult wouldn't easily forget.
Under the lawn pavilion at the backyard of Wayne Manor, the eldest Wayne continuously cooed at the newborn child in his arms. The weeks-old Mary Grayson sported the signature sparkling blue eyes while inheriting her mother's bright red mane, appearing in small tufts. From the two weeks they've stayed over – as it was easier for Barbara's recuperation and Bruce's not-so-secret want to keep an eye on his first grandchild – Tim had discovered, Mary wasn't a fussy baby.
Even with Artemis and Wally's boisterous presence – mostly because of Wally and the twin toddlers he brought – Mary remained a good sport, bringing her small, fat arms and hands up, clutching at the air. She beamed at the attention, admittedly another trait she got from Dick.
Since Mary's birth, less than half a month ago, and throughout the two weeks of Dick and Barbara's stay, Tim, as the detective he was, noticed Damian's scowl grow deeper and deeper. It reminded the older boy of the prickly demon brat he first met (and had attempted to kill him on multiple occasions). Those were undoubtedly, trying times for everyone in the family.
Tim had pinned down the root of Damian's change in mood, going through several hunches. All evidences had pointed to the same thing and it wasn't because Jason had accidentally kidnapped Alfred the cat. The young man took a deep breath, internally debating. In the background, Artemis was scolding Wally or one of the twins; one couldn't really differentiate.
"You should just talk to him," Tim embarrassingly jumped in surprise as Barbara suddenly spoke beside him. She smirked at his reaction.
"What are you talking about?" he stammered, as if she didn't just break him out of his own stupor. Smooth, Tim. Real smooth.
The older woman rolled her eyes. "You boys may be able lie your way as vigilantes but as civilians…" she trailed off, raising a brow.
Tim sighed, knowing how impregnable Barbara's power to push any of the Wayne boys when necessary. "Fine. But why me?"
She looked at Damian then back to him, holding his baby blues with her very own. Despite undergoing pregnancy and all the stress that came with it, the redhead still looked glowing and beautiful. "Do I really have to spell it out for you? We both know why. Now, have some balls and talk to him." She offered the cool lemonade in her hand – an Alfred-approved liquid courage. "After all, he's your brother."
Tim downed the drink in a few gulps, wishing it were coffee or even, something alcoholic.
Neither he nor the former child assassin was particularly sentimental with one another. He could easily count the number of times they had spoken sincerely, without death threats or trash talking. And more often done not, it was related to their night jobs. Tim was sure this was the first time, in the 3 years they have become family that they'd talk like normal people. Least of all, initiated by him.
Damian had already sensed Tim as he strode halfway through the veranda in polished leather shoes. The many times the younger see him outside of vigilantism, the older would be clad in corporate clothing. Even today, Tim had worn white button downs and slacks with his suit jacket draped over a lawn chair.
Not in the mood (when was he ever, recently?), Damian decided to ignore his adopted brother and returned his gaze to the Grayson, now joined by Gordon.
Tim reached the teenage boy and leaned on the rail as he did, leniently dangling an empty glass with one hand. A few silent moments passed between them and the elephant grew bigger with every second. Why is it that I could argue my point with a half dozen board members but I can't get a word out with my 13-year-old brother?, he chided himself.
"You're jealous," Tim suddenly blurted out. Mentally, he face palmed himself. Not a great start.
As expected, Damian was triggered, pushing himself almost harshly off the railing. "Speculation doesn't suit you, Drake," he spat with apprehension. Tim didn't know if he should be proud of himself or if he should start palming his hidden kunai. Sudden outbursts from Damian meant hitting a nerve. Unlike Dick, he wasn't expert on controlling or at least managing the youngest's temper. The last thing Tim wanted was to start a full-blown argument and destroy this moment of peace at the Manor.
Tim exhaled. He needed to finish what he had started. "You're jealous of the new baby. It's alright, Damian. It's normal," he stressed.
The assassin had crossed his arms and turned his glare on him. "And why would I be envious of such an unknowing, helpless child?"
Tim returned his stare with a level one. He knew the question was rhetorical but still he pushed, "Because you think you're being replaced by the blood…well, daughter. Sound familiar?"
A pregnant pause. Then the boy returned to leaning on the rail. "You're comparing your lowliness to me?"
The older bit back a retort, focusing on the fact that Damian was entertaining the idea. It was progress. "Believe me when I say that I know exactly what you feel." An unexpected pang hit his chest. The whole issue of replacement was a common dispute among the Robin's. It had been 3 years and Tim had long since accepted it and simply flourished with his own independent crusade as Red Robin. He was surprised to find lingering pain still there – a remnant of the jealousy and anger he once nurtured.
Looking at the brat he now considered his brother, Tim admitted that it was a necessary change, to hand over the Robin mantle. It had been his opportunity to grow and Damian's chance to be as normal as possible, under Dick's guidance and parenting. Besides, without it, they wouldn't be standing in the Manor veranda, watching over their blessings.
"He doesn't love you any less, Damian," he assured the younger boy, knowing full well the stream of thoughts going through his head.
It took a few moments for the former assassin to respond. Damian, someone relies on his bark as much as his bite, taking his time was a good sign. "Grayson…he told me as much, when Gordon was going into labor."
"And you don't believe him?"
"I-I do," he instantly affirmed, "However, it does not feel the same. All his attention is with the baby." Of course, Tim acknowledged, Damian was trained with Ra's and Talia's attention solely on him. Then grew up with Dick and Bruce, as they groomed the former assassin into a passable boy. Damian never exactly learned to share.
Tim chuckled, earning him a toned down Batglare. "Dami," he started, unable to control the use of the nickname, "of course Dick's focus is on Mary. It's his baby." The glare merely intensified. Tim quickly amended, "But just because there's someone new in the family, doesn't change how he feels." The piercing gaze remained. How can do you explain unconditional love to Damian?
He played with the rim of the glass, trying again. "You love Titus, don't you?" Damian gave the slightest nod, remembering his first meeting with the dog. "And you love Alfred the cat, too?" Again, another small nod. Tim saw the point coming across his brother's face. "Even when Alfred the cat came a few months later?"
Damian looked back at the pavilion. The scowl on his face had vanished. The child – horribly dressed in bright blue – was now in Crock's arms while the female twin – Irey, she was called – was settled on Gordon's lap. The woman, herself, was talking animatedly, earning laughter from the group. All the while, Grayson was affixed with her, regarding her with an emotion Damian couldn't singlehandedly describe but very often saw with his eldest brother. Eventually, Gordon returned his gaze with equal intensity and proceeded to whisper in his ear, to which he knowingly smirked.
Tim gently bumped Damian with his elbow. Before the younger could brandish a knife, tucked in his sleeve, to his throat (instinctively, he would argue), Tim continued, "Besides, he may be a protective older brother to all of us but you taught him how to be a father."
A moment of confusion hit Damian before realization struck. 2 years he had lived with man, with constant hugs and hair ruffling. Grayson had been there with every nightmare, tucked him in with every bout of sickness and had gone to dreaded meetings in the Principal's Office for him. He had introduced him to flavored ice cream, brought him to the movies, and even just listened with whatever Damian had needed. He had taught him to control his emotions and had helped him adjust with every member in his family.
Leaving Tim content, the young boy walked down the veranda and headed to the pavilion. Dick immediately saw him and, grinning, waved him over. Feeling a sudden lightness in his chest, Damian returned the smile.