Bruce was late for a major share holders meeting but he dropped Tim off at school. Tim had a history test he was late for. Bruce got to work. There was no way to discretely sneak into a meeting when you were an hour and a half late and you owned the company. The entire meeting stopped. One of the share holders had the gall to ask if his late arrival had to do with the press release regarding a secret son.

"Let's just continue. If I could have the summary notes Sheryl," Bruce grunted and sat down as Lucius smirked at him.

Tim was convinced his history teacher hated him. Despite Bruce's tendency to treat speed limits as suggestions rather than laws, Tim was still five minutes late for class and now he had detention plus ten minutes less to finish the test by the time Mr. Grumand finished chewing his ear off. Ten minutes out of a forty minute period was enough of a loss that Tim did not finish. His test score was going to be terrible.

Because he had also missed a science lab he'd have to make that up too. He texted Alfred to let him know he'd be very, very late and explained why.

"Very good sir. I'll send in the cavalry," Alfred texted back.

This response confused Tim but he was enlightened later in the day. Damian peeked into the detention hall then went to Mrs. Rouse who was running detention. She looked at him curious. He had a determined and intense expression on his face. In a too loud voice he explained earnestly, "It was my fault Tim was tardy so Tim will do his make-up lab and I will take the detention." His tiny hand reached up and sneaked the wipe board marker off her desk. Then, he cringed and spun round to the wipe board. Very slowly and messily he began printing.

I will not sneek out of the howse and go traipsing around the woods at five in the blooming morning, all by myself because for goodness sake a 4 year old all on his own out there, anything could happen. I will not worry my family, making them hunt high and low and leaving them no recorse but to call the constabulary involving Grandpa Jim, my mother and the K-9 unit.

"I don't have to write this a hundred more times do I?" Damian looked over to Alfred who stood by the door, a prim, proper and stern expression was fixed on his face.

"Master Damian, sneak, house and recourse are spelled incorrectly. Please spell out canine properly."

Tim still stood stupidly staring at Damian.

"Attend to your lab work Master Timothy." Alfred nodded to Mrs. Rouse who looked to be trying not to giggle.

"You didn't really have him write it out a hundred times did you Alfred?" asked Tim.

"Master Damian is a strong believer in the poetic drama of exaggeration."

Damian had managed to write out the paragraph three more times before Tim finished his lab work. Damian had also drawn a picture of a puppy dog. Mrs. Rouse had asked him about what had happened and he was illustrating. Tim still had to write up the conclusions and do some graphing but he could do that in the car.

Rather than drive home, they next proceeded to the police station. Alfred and Damian took some bakery style boxes out of the trunk. Tim got the door. Damian mournfully explained to Commissioner Gordon. "Papa Alfred and I made donuts for everyone to apologize. All afternoon baking donuts and I wasn't allowed to taste one!"

With a defiant little huff Damian announced, "Real donuts would have had sprinkles," while pouting at Alfred.

Jim Gordon smoothed out his moustache to hide a smile.

As Red Robin and Batman headed out for patrol that night, Red asked Batman if Agent A hadn't been a little harsh.

Batman's response caught Red off guard. "That was not discipline. That was the master manipulator keeping Robin distracted from grief. Robin loves baking. He got to rescue his big brother from detention. He's needs to do writing drills daily anyway and he felt he deserved punishment."

"Um..." Tim knew Bruce didn't pay Alfred enough but the elderly butler was still consistently able to impress him in new ways. "Odd writing drill?"

"Mnemonic exercise and writing drill. Agent A lectured him then asked him to duplicate the lecture."

"If that wasn't discipline are you going to discipline him?" asked Red. Damian had been tucked into bed late, just before they went to get ready for patrol. Alfred had filled a spill proof cup with juice and left it on a low shelf in the fridge. Damie's truck was in his room. Bear was in bed with him along with a tattered stuffed elephant from his first childhood.

"The security system is going to see significant updates. Agent A and Doctor L have advised against a sub-dermal tracker due to his age, rate of growth and the likelihood of it causing scar tissue. I embedded a tracker into his cast when we got back."

Tim wondered if that was a no, or if that was an I'm Batman I'll do as I please; I'm not answerable to you.

The Batmobile was monitoring a bug. Sound level indicator bars that had been low, picked up a little. Batman turned on the audio.

"You bugged his room!?"

"Another parent would have a baby monitor in there. I gave him the bug. He put it in Bear's utility belt."

"Bad dreams. I'm going to the library to read for a little while." A bed creaked and whisper soft footsteps padded. A door opened. "Thor sometimes asked why I would whimper in my sleep and if I had bad dreams. After I talked to Steve, Thor didn't ask any more." Damian's voice softly prattled on for a while before turning to mumblings and finally soft breathing. Batman turned the audio back off and glanced over at Red Robin.

^ŏ^

Jason looked in his fridge. His choices for dinner were ketchup, hot sauce or expired salad dressing. He looked in his cupboard; peanut butter, ammo and the grocery note pad. Jason looked at the note pad.

Anything but cocktail onions and ketchup!

- Ivy spore for brains

He must have been drunk when he left himself that note for himself. He took out a spoon, the jar of peanut butter and a bottle of whisky which he'd nipped off of the Penguin's crowd.

"Vigilantism doesn't pay enough," Jason muttered. When he went after druggies he'd pocket enough of the cash flow to stay flush. This job with the human trafficking, the cash wasn't liquid enough to get at. It was hidden in bank transactions. Banking and hacking, they had never really been Jason's strong point.

Jason had uncovered the front end of the operation but the last group taken had been young street kids ranging in age from 9 to 15. The nine year old had made eye contact with him and Jason couldn't do it. He couldn't let them get pulled further in even if it meant failing to bust up the rest of the operation. So the front liners got the smack down, the kids went free and Red Hood now had a lot more work to do to get to the source of the problem.

In truth, the nine year old with a thick dark braid, caramel skin and soft brown doe eyes had stared at the glossy reflection of Red Hood's helmet. That's all. Jason didn't like it when people went after kids. He really, really didn't like it.

Jason looked over at his computer. The webcam had activated. A screen opened up and a cartoon Robin started dancing across his labtop.

Hi Jason. Found you! Peek-a-boo. I see you. Have a happy day!

Jason slammed the computer shut and unplugged his labtop. What the heck?

He took the lab top, put it on the back of his bike. He'd not been in costume when the labtop went off but there was stuff on his labtop that he didn't want getting out. It wasn't backed up properly or apparently firewalled properly. He couldn't afford to loose all the data. A string of explicitives escaped him. Maybe if he turned it on and quickly backed up everything while located somewhere without WIFI?

Sitting in the middle of a park, sometime after midnight, Jason turned his computer on. A whole tonne of new files were on it, each marked with a little cartoon Robin.

It was the bank files he needed showing the cash flow, to help break open the case. A note pad file was open on his desktop.

Hey big brother. Please don't kill anyone on this job. Batman's files go on and on and on about it. Now that I've helped, I'd feel responsible. I already have enough trouble sleeping. Don't tell Daddy I helped either or I'll be in soooo much trouble, I'll forget desert is a kind of food. Have a happy day!

Jason scrambled away from his computer just a little terrified. HOW?! It's not possible. How?

Batman had tried to teach Jason to hack but he was terrible at it. He went closer to the computer again.

Robin, assuming this was the real Robin, the first Robin not number three; he hadn't left an email address. Jason typed at the end of the note.

Hey Baby Bird, it's dessert, not desert unless you want to eat dirt.

He backed up his files then took the computer to a coffee shop with a net connection and waited. Two cups of coffee and a donut later...

Agent A wanna be.

That was not Tim.

Nothing further came over his computer. It was however getting pretty late and the Baby Bird was probably asleep. Jason didn't know what to think but he was so seriously wigged out that after reviewing the files he'd been sent, he kept it to simple fists verses street drugs, gangs and muggings for the rest of the night.

^ŏ^

Dick/Damian ended up in Bruce's bed that night. Bruce just silently ran his finger's through Damien's hair until his boy was sleeping soundly. He understood. Robin had put the mission first until he was safely back home, doing his best to ignore all of the hard stuff until he was safe and off duty but now reality was inescapable.

"It is okay Chum, to be glad to see Alfred and me at the same time as missing your parents. I'm glad you love them and I am sure they are glad you have someone who loves you." That L word wasn't as hard to say when you'd almost lost the chance to ever, ever say it.

Somebody still woke before Bruce was done sleeping but he slipped out and went to bother Tim for a while. Bruce went back to sleep.

Dick/Damian grinned with an arm load of socks stuffed in his shirt. Tim slept with his door open. SOCK ATTACK! Rapid fire, Tim got beaned with tiny sock balls. GAH! Tim fell out of bed and looked around blearily. Damian was grinning at him from the doorway. Damian waved hello with a mischievious grin, then turned and ran!

Rules or no rules Dick slid down the banister hopping off the end and running towards the front door. He slipped on his outdoor shoes and his coat and sat criss cross on the floor and waited.

Tim came chasing down stopping abruptly with a half annoyed/half amused look on his face.

"Rascal."

"Come outside and play with me."

Tim had never had a little brother before. He gave Damian an appraising look before slipping on his own shoes and coat and keying in the rather lengthy exit code. The sun was shining which was rare in Gotham. They skipped stones down at the pond when Tim explained that no mud sculptures with a plaster cast were a no go. Damian got some rope out from the garden shed and tied a stick to it trying to throw the stick over a high tree branch. Tim took over because his throwing arm was a little stronger. Soon, Tim was pushing Damian who was riding the primative rope and stick swing. Damian talked ceaselessly.

He asked Tim about his parents before Bruce and how he'd become Robin and his favorite color and his best friend and his ... Tim had never in his life talked so much and so long about himself. It had been a long time since he'd smiled so freely

He learned that the new name made Dick/Damian uncomfortable and agreed to just call him D for short as long as it was just the two of them.

"Do you want a turn on the swing Timmy?"

Tim shook his head no, then turned back to the manner. Alfred was calling them for breakfast. Bruce stood on the front porch watching them with a peaceful look about him.

Tim nodded to get D's attention and told him they were being summoned for breakfast.