Warning: Spankings ahead.


When Bruce had heard the sound of the door knob turn he knew who it was. After all this had been happening since his return Tim had been sneaking into his room or what was a sad attempt of it since he knew that Tim could easily get within ten feet before Bruce would notice.

Seeing Tim standing there next to the bed eyes fearful, confused and hurt Bruce lifted the side of the sheets and blankets letting his son climb in quickly curling up to Bruce resting his head under Bruce's chin still crying quietly his shaking body slowly calming down.

Bruce held him close in a strong embrace trying to give comfort and to drive away the demons that hunted his child. Something had happened when he was gone. That much had been clear but he didn't know to what extent but by the morning he would know everything.

When he felt Tim was still tense he spoke in his fatherly voice. "It's alright Tim, I'm here and I promise you I won't be leaving."

Slowly Tim fell asleep. However even in sleep Tim's fingers would twitch and curl as he clutched Bruce's muscle shirt as if making sure he was still there.


Dick Grayson knew many things.

Jason Todd knew many things.

They both knew many things.

And they both knew they were in a shit load of trouble when Bruce sent them a message to meet him in the Study. That was never good. Dick gasped before looking over at Jason and Jason, despite being over eighteen cringed at the words.

"Yeah. I'm going to disappear for a while." Jason said before leaving. "Good luck Dikie-bird."

"You jerk! You're leaving me a lone to die!" Dick moaned as he watched his brother run off but was intercepted by Alfred. "Oh, God. Alfred's in on it too, were both dead, dead I tell you!"

Alfred raised his eyebrows and Jason sighed in defeat. No one could stand up to Alfred. Turning he walked back into the Manor before heading up the stairs alongside Dick. The only reason they weren't escaping? Because Alfred was walking right behind them which meant there was no escape.

Just then Damian came out looking at them. "Why do you too look like you're on a death march?"

"Because we are." Jason gritted before flicking the youngest bird's head.

Dick whined but didn't say anything because he was pretty sure he was in the most trouble. After all he had been trained by Batman the longest. He knew that firing Tim was a bad idea but he never thought that Bruce would come back. Heck, he was already to face Bruce when he died because he knew that wherever he'd end that his Dad couldn't kill him. Or… or…

They got to the door and Dick hid behind Jason. "You go first."

"How the hell are you the oldest?!" Jason growled but truth was Dick was smaller than him and could hide easily behind him.

For a moment Jason smirked at remembering some people in the city asking each other if Batman had seemed smaller. However the smirk quickly fell when Alfred opened the door waiting for them to enter but they both stayed still.

"It would be for the best if you both do not keep Master Bruce waiting."

They shuffled inside and the door closed.


Tim sat at the kitchen table with a book laid out in front of him. It was a drawing book. Bruce had gotten it for him asking him if he could learn how to draw. Tim did many things to please Bruce so if Bruce wanted him to learn how to draw than he would.

The sketchbook in front of him had the start of a drawing of a bird. A Robin since that was the page that Tim had searched for in the animal in the drawing book. He carefully followed the instructions. Once the outline was done he looked at the bird in the book and the one on his paper. It was a start. Not as good, the lines could use more perfection.

"If I might say it is a wonderful start, Master Timothy."

Tim jumped in his chair. "Alfred, I didn't see you there."

Alfred frowned a little.

Tim looked at his book before looking back at him. "Oh. I'm sorry, Alfred. I didn't say thank you for the complement."

"It is alright Master Timothy. Would you like something to eat or a drink?"

For a moment Tim was lost in thought before he answered. "Can I have some water please?"

"Of course."

Tim went back to drawing. After an hour and twenty used pages later a perfect Robin was on the paper with the proper tree branch to sit on, shading was included, and signed in the perfected handwriting was the name Tim Wayne.

Setting down his drawing pencil Tim took the now room temperature glass of water before taking a few drinks. Slowly he finished it before standing up putting away the pencils in their case. The high end erasers in their case before leaning down to take out a large drawing bag, setting in the cases before adding the sketchbook in as well before slinging it over his shoulder.

"Done for the day?" Alfred asked as he put the roast in the over.

"No. I think I'll train for a bit than continue."

"Alright, sir. Good day."

"Good day Alfred."


The study was just as large as both of them remembered. Bruce was on the phone talking to someone but singled them to sit down. Alright he basically commanded them to do so. They sat on the two chairs not saying a word but Jason was formulating an escape. However there was no way to get away.

Soon the phone call was over and the phone hung up a with a click. "Now than."

Oh it was the dark voice! There were in serious trouble now!

"Hold on here, Bruce!" Jason jumped up. "I didn't do shit! You have no right to keep me here like a child!"

"You've killed people. I have been letting it slide long enough. Sit."

"Hell no!"

"Jason." Bruce growled out. "DO you want to go first?"

"What the fuck?!" Jason hit his fist down on the desk. "I'm not a kid anymore you can just turn me over you fucking knee and—Gaaahhh?!"

Dick gasped pulling his legs up hiding his face. Did Jason really forget just who they were raised by? Did he really just tell Bruce what he can and can't do inside the Study?! This was the punishment study! This never ended without a sore bottom.

"What the fuck, Bruce! Let me go!"

"Jason, if you don't shut up right now you'll be in for it worse than now."

"You can't be serious!" Jason pushed himself up a little to see the other's man face and cringed.

That was the darkest Bat glare he had ever seen and despite himself remained still. Betides once Bruce was done scolding or yelling at them he could someone get out of it. Maybe. However there was lingering feeling in the back of his mind that he wasn't going to be leaving unsaved.

"Now, than about your actions first, Jason, then I'll get to you, Dick and we have a lot to talk about."

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Jason said then paused. "You're seriously not going to spank us are you?"


Damian was sure that Drake was OCD by the way he was contently cleaned his room. Stacked the bookshelf's books perfect in order. Everything was dusted, polished, the bed was made up perfect. The room had an air of not being lived in but rather as if it had been a brand new hotel room.

He had been walking by to see if Grayson had found out what Father had wanted when he saw that Drake's door was open. Curious, just a little, he entered the room seeing Tim sitting on a chair that had been new along with a isle, a large sketch bored up and the other was drawing something. Getting closer still unseen he watched the other continued to sketch away.

Suddenly the pencil stroke stopped before continuing. "Go away Damian."

"What are you doing, Drake?" Damian took another look at the bored. "What is the point of this?"

"Dad, wants me to learn how to sketch." Tim started to blend a few stokes together. "Close the door on your way out."

Snorting Damian took there when they both jumped at a loud yelp Tim started to put his stuff away before placing them in their new home, which was perfectly clean but to Damian's taste. How in the world did he keep the room so clean?

"What was that?"

"It came from the study." Tim said. "Either Dick or Jason are in some serious trouble. I think it might be Jason since he is the one who keeps promising not to kill but ends up doing it again."

Tim shuffled/pushed Damian out of his room before closing the door. There was no lock on the doors since one of the rule sin the manor was that if you were a Wayne child no door shall be locked. Tim had a feeling this rule was establish after Jason came to live at the Manor. Walking away from another yelp was heard.


Jason gritted his teeth. He had forgotten just how much that damn paddle could hurt. It hurt more because it was the one with the holes in it. If had had a choice of being hurt he would much rather be shot. He took a glance at Dick who was covering his eyes knowing full well he was next he cursed him. Surely the Golden boy would get off much easier.

"Fuck this!" Jason jumped up trying to run away but was caught. "Damn it, Bruce let me go! I'm a grown ass man!"

"You're running wild across the city. Now lean back over on the chair."

"Hell no!"

The next thing Jason knew he was leaned back over the chair, his hands not tied the arms of it and his rear end feeling bare. Shit, not good. Whoop!

"Ouch!" Jason yelped. "Stop it!"

Woop.

It continued on and Jason could feel the burning on his rare as Bruce kept a steady pace. Hard hits that were random and never the same was different form this. The steady pace made it more painful and his face heated up as he wanted to cry which he refused to do.

Groaning in pain Jason tried pulling at the ropes but leave it to Bruce to find knots that Jason didn't know how to get out of. Another hit made him whimper legs shaking in pain and the red of the skin. Oh god it hurt! Finally Jaosn couldn't take it anymore and cried.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Jason screamed tears falling from his face. "Please, stop!"

It stopped causing Jason to let out a shaky breath in relief before the ropes where taken off and he quickly moved away walking awkwardly to the sofa laying down side way rubbing his stinging rear the coolness of the sofa adding little comfort. Trying not to sob like an idiot he rolled on his back.

"Can I go now?"

"Go to your room and if you even think about leaving it than I'll bring you back here. DO you understand me?"

"…" Jason thought about it. Did he really want to go through this again? No. "Yes, sir."

Pulling up his pants Jason left not looking at Dick as he made his way painfully to his room where he when straight to the bathroom to take a cold back to sooth away the stinging. As he sat in the tub he heard Dick crying loudly.

"Looks like the Golden boy didn't get off easy after all." Jason muttered before leaning. "Why the hell is Bruce so strong?"


Alfred drove Tim to the store.

There Tim had bought all kinds of drawing supplies looking happy. Alfred smiled a little as he followed the boy as they filled up the cart. He watched as Tim's eyes lit up at the all the different kinds of drawing pencils, the papers, the eases the clays', it just made the other look like a small child again.

It had been such a long time seeing Tim content and in a happy place. Master Bruce had the right idea of telling Tim to learn how to draw. It gave the boy a new focus. Not only that but he had also stopped Tim form working for the time being.

It was clear to them, Master Bruce and Alfred had noticed that Tim was dangerously close to losing his mind. That much was clear in the actions. Although they still went out on patrol Batman would keep Tim as close as possible before tricking Tim into working form the Bat computer. He told Tim he needed someone to help him and the only one he trusted was Tim to do it.

Damian had thrown a fit which helped although the with Tim because Tim had been so happy about Bruce trusting him. Now with Tim continuing to to sleep in Bruce bed with a fear that he was dead again and it had been increasing.

Once the boy had shown up at Bruce's work which would have been normal if Tim hadn't shown up in a panic in his sleepwear, crying and his words incoherent. It took Master Bruce an hour to snap Tim out of it and than had to take the rest of the day off because of the state Tim was in.

"Alfred?"

It occurred to the Butler he had gotten lost in thought. "Ah, my apologies, Master Timothy, I was in thought. Did you ask me something?"

Smiling Tim held up some paints. "Do you think Dad would like me to paint as well?"

Alfred smiled. "I believe Master Bruce would enjoy that. As I recall Master Bruce tried painting when he was young and was not skilled."

Laughign softly Tim added the paints into the cart before pausing. "Alfred?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think we can get some canvases?"

"I do believe that is needed to paint. Shall we continue?"

"Yes, and thank you Alfred."

"Of course young sir."


Dick held up hands. "I'm sorry for whatever I did and I swear I'll never do it again! Please don't spank me Bruce!"

"Dick, get back in your chair." Bruce sat in his chair laying the paddle on the desk. "We need to talk about what happened."

Slowly Dick did what he told but fidgeted.

"Dick, when I 'died' I thought you would take care of your brother."

"I did! I took care of him and made sure he didn't kill people!"

"I'm not talking about Damian."

"Oh. Oh."

"Dick, when I left I was sure you would remember to take care of Tim as well. He maybe a genius but that he was also abused and neglected by his birth parents. Not only did you forget that but I also know that from the footage form the time I left to the time I got back that Tim wasn't living here. He wasn't living in his home."

"Footage?" Dick gulped. "Uh, do you, uh, have them in the batcave?"

"I have them everywhere." Bruce sat back. "I saw when you fired Tim. Didn't you even think about how much Robin meant to him?"

"Damian needed to be Robin. He was out of control and Tim understood that." Dick defended.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"And you talked this over with Tim? Asked him what he thought, what he wanted? Did you even see his face when you took away his mantel of Robin and handed over the mantel of Robin to Damien without even a second thought?"

Dick had seen his face. Tim had looked so hurt. But not angry and he had gotten over it. Hadn't he?

"I also know that the three of you contently telling Tim that he was going insane. That he was losing it and Dick you know how much damage words can cause. Not only that after you three made a game out of it." Bruce growled out. "Tim figured out who we were when he was nine, did you really think he would also figure out that I was alive? Did ever cross your mind that Tim is rarely wrong?"

"You were dead!" Dick screamed. "And he kept claiming over and over again! Leaving to search for you and then he did something stupid when Conner died! He tried cloning him! He tried ninety nine times ad failed each time! Then he took on another mantel using Superboys colors of black and red and called himself Red Robin!"

"Because he needed comfort, love and something to keep him from anchored and no one was giving it to him!" Bruce stood up as Dick shrank into the seat looking at him fearfully. "He tried to bring the only one who never doubted him. Conner gave him insurance that he wasn't lost in a delusion. Tim used black and red as a tribute to his best friend, to his partner because Superboy and Robin had been partners and now it's Kon and Red Robin."

"But why Red Robin? He was supposed to be making his own way. He's wasn't a Robin anymore."

Bruce reached over and pulled Dick up and onto his lap gripping the other's chin forcing him to look at him straight in the eye.

"Tim still needed Robin and needed Robin more when everything came crashing down and you took that away from him without a second thought."

Dick was shaking. Both form realizing his terrible mistakes, and the face that he felt like a ten year old again when he had disobeyed Bruce on an outing that had gotten him kidnapped. There had been a punishment. This however was going to be worse. Bruce was fair and now Dick had to pay up.

"I didn't mean too… I just thought that Damian needed it more."

"Damian, need to learn, and he would have been a Robin sooner or later. He may have been able to fight but he killed too. Robin doesn't kill and Damian was not ready to be Robin."

Dick swallowed thickly his hands on the arm that was holding his chin. "Do you hate me?"

Bruce eyes softened just a bit. "No, Dick, I don't hate you. I'm disappointed in you."

That hurt. It hurt a lot. Dick felt his eyes sting with tears but unlike Jason he let them fall. "I'm sorry."

"Think back on all that happened and tell me if you didn't seen any red flags." Bruce said. "Think about everything since I left."


Tim sat with a paint brush in his hand as he gently added color to his drawing. Carefully soothing out the stokes trying to make it perfect. Alfred had helped him set up a space in his room where he could paint comfortably and he had an apron on that used to stay clean.

Around hung paintings, drawings, a few sketches. Since Bruce had told him to learn how to draw he had been at it nonstop but it was so peaceful and calming. On his ears where earphones playing classical music as he continued his task.

Alfred had told him to wear them and that it would block out all distracting sound. Tim knew it was because Dick was in The Study. A place Tim had never been since he was always on his best behavior but what Tim couldn't figure out what Dick had done that would deserve such a punishment. The last time it had been because Dick had gotten drunk at a important party and when the Mayor had asked him to stop talking Dick had in his stupor tried to make out with the old man.

Sighing Tim stood up setting the paint brush down before leaving the room. Going down stairs he went to ask Alfred if he could have something to eat. When Alfred told them that dinner would be in hour Tim asked if he could help. So together they cooked and set up the table as Tim chatted about his artwork feeling more sane than he had in a long time.


Dick was openly sobbing as he held onto Bruce like a baby. There were no excuses. All the signs, red flags, alarms going off and Dick had chosen to ignore it and the results were something that he could even begin to place.

How bad was it? Was this why Bruce kept Tim inside so much? Kept him closer than normal or didn't let Tim got out to work for him? Was it that bad that Bruce had to work, be Batman and take care of Tim's frail mind all at the same time? Had he caused that much damage?

"Bruce... Dad," Dick sobbed, "Daddy, I'm so sorry…"

"I know, chum. However what's done and done. Now, we both know what's going to happen or do I need to tie you down like Jason?"

Shaking his head Dick got off his Father and walked over to the chair wiping his tears away with the back of his hands. Taking off his pants and underwear Dick leaned over the chair gripping the arms knowing that this was going to hurt.

When the first whap came Dick jumped a little but soon the steady hits came and it wasn't long till the hero was opening crying as the pain spread over his backside and legs. Dick brought his hand up to bit his hand to keep from screaming. The thing just hurt worse than he remembered but that again Bruce would have stopped after ten. The stinging just increased and the pain did as well making it too painful.

"Please stop!" Dick finally cried out. "It hurts!"

"I know, son." Bruce said as he continued. "But you know the rules."

Oh Dick knew that stupid old saying with the rhyme. You do the crime, you do the time and dear god the time hurt like hell and back.

"Daddy, please…!"

"Almost done,"

"It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it huuuuuuuuurrrrrrrts…! Please I'm so sorry...!"

Just when Dick thought he couldn't take it anymore it stopped and he slumped to the floor his eyes puff and red tears pouring out. He was lifted up, his underwear slipped back on before he was forced to walk to his room the pain burning him.

Bruce helped him into the tub with cold water. "There you go, chum."

Sniffling Dick looked up. "I'm sorry, Dad, I really am…"

Bruce kissed his forehead giving him a tight hug. "I know. Now rest up because dinner's in half an hour and you will be attending."

"Yes, sir." Dick hugged him for a moment.

"I'll see you down stairs. I need to go check on Jason."

"Okay…"

When Bruce went to check on Jason who threw up his hands shouting that he wasn't leaving he was just looking out the window, he swore he was.


Bruce came down for dinner to see Tim walking at the same time, the boy paused before smiling at him walking over to get a hug. Bruce patted his back.

"How was your day?"

Tim stayed there in the embrace for a moment. "Alfred and I went and bought paints. I know you want me to draw…"

"Paintings great too." Bruce let him go. "You'll have to show me when you're done."

"We can see them after dinner if you have time?"

"Of course I do. Now shall we sit down?"

"Mm-hm." Tim took his place.

Soon Dick and Jason came down both looking like they were in pain. Dick took his seat on right by Bruce and was grateful that Alfred had set a chairs that had padding. Jason took his seat next to Bruce on the left side also grateful about the padding.

Only one person was missing was Damian. However before anyone could go get him the boy came in looking satisfied about something before taking his seat next to Jason as the order went with the children and soon the food was placed down in front of them.

As they ate Bruce provided the questions, got some answers Damian questioned why both Grayson and Todd couldn't seem to sit straight or still. Bruce made him drop the subject. Dinner came and went and soon desert was served.

"Master Timothy you did not finish your food."

"I'm sorry, Alfred, I couldn't get it all down."

"I'll serve a small portion next time, that way you can eat it all."

"Thank you, Alfred." Tim said as he picked at the cake that was laid in front of him.

More than half was left of the cake.

"Tim, why don't you bring down those drawings you wanted to show me?" Bruce said.

"Alright. I'll be right back." Tim stood up leaving the room.

Jason grunted still wiggling around. "Damn, it I need drugs."

"Jason." Bruce growled.

"Oh, come on! It freaking hurts… geez, and you look worse than I do, Dick-bird."

Dick whined putting his head on the table. "At least you had more recovery time… Alfred… cold pack, please…"

Damian snorted. "You're both weak."

As the three boys started to bicker at one another for five minutes before they almost started to punch on each other so Bruce broke up the fight. However it was then that he noticed that one of his birds had yet to return to the table.

"Tim," Bruce called to see if the boy was close the dinning room.

There was no answer so Alfred walked in. "Master Bruce, I believe there is an problem that you must attend to upstairs in Master Timothy's room."

When Bruce got to the room he saw Tim falling to his knees, the room covers in shredded drawings, paint thrown everywhere, book topples, and the bed was horribly soaking in all sorts of colored paint. The drawing pencils all broken tossed about, the carol form them staining the precious white carpet that Tim worked hard to keep clean.

"Tim?" Bruce tried to push the shock off.

"I guess…" Tim started but stopped and started too picked up the papers next to him frantically. "I-I need to clean…! I need to c-clean…!"

In desperation Tim tried to clean everything as he started to hyperventilate. There was a smug laugh behind them and Bruce turned to see Damian there smirking and the it clicked on what Damian had been to so satisfied about earlier that evening. Both Dick and Jason looked into the room looking around.

"Damian, you did this?"

"Yes," He said smugly.

"Jason, Dick, take Damian to the study."


Should Damian get punished or should I leave it here?