Bringing My Children Home
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Chapter Ten
Tim
The extortion attempt on the Clinic was disturbing to all of them.
Bruce had been upset that Dr. Thompkins had not informed him of the first attempt. While Batman had hovered over the Doctor who had been there the night of his parents' murder, Spoiler and Nightwing had gone hunting for the two masked men who had done the vandalism. Robin and Batgirl had catalogued evidence and prepared for the arrival of the police. Commissioner Gordon himself had shown up, aware the clinic was considered part of the Bat Network.
There was very little evidence. All the physical evidence left behind was useless, strands of common fibers impossible to trace, DNA from a few nameless people and a whole lot of others who the clinic had helped that day. The case stalled immediately.
Then half a week later, Drake Industries CEO Neal Prinz reported a scam he had been victim too, and Tim had to choose one case or the other. Since he knew Mr. Prinz, he decided to take that case, while Jason undertook the more brutal extortion case. Bruce naturally had a hand in both cases, but Leslie, Alfred, and Dick had all demanded he not take the lead on the extortion ring.
"Can I interrupt, Tim?" Bruce said about a week after the extortion attempt. Tim had taken refuge in the library nook, since Stephanie and Cass were playing rap in the bedroom area, and that did not help him think.
"Hey Bruce," Tim stretched and set his laptop aside. "What's up?"
Bruce climbed the ladder onto the small platform above the first-floor bookshelves. The platform had been built by Thomas Wayne for his wife and son to read in. Tim had felt bad about commandeering the location, but before he could even apologize the first time Bruce told him, Bruce had mentioned how nice it was to see it being utilized by someone who appreciated its purpose. Dick and Jason had used it as a fort, or a launching pad for acrobats. So, Tim's enjoyment of the peace of the library ended up bringing good memories back to Bruce.
"Dr. Thompkins has banned me from the premises, unless I'm bleeding out, and Jason has told me to leave him alone while he works, so I've been kicked off the case," Bruce sighed.
"I'm not hacking Jason's files for you," Tim declared, before the question could be asked. "He figured out my light switch shock. I'll pay!"
"I know you have more than that in your arsenal, and Jason never does the smelly or nasty pranks on you. You agree that I should stay away from this, from an attack on Leslie."
"Well, yes. She and the Clinic are safe now. Dick is doing a meandering search for a place for his gym in the area, so he's always nearby. Jason is figuring out who else had been extorted. You already overreacted. Let it go, please," Tim said. "Go back to the Kane Mercantile case. Stephanie is always in a great mood when you take the time to see how she's doing on that case."
Bruce laughed, a fondness for the blonde lighting his face. When Bruce gave way, he did it whole heartedly. Stephanie would eventually grow tired of his over protective hovering, but she was still enjoying the paternal affection. The older man nodded.
"There's something else I need to tell you," he said after a moment. Tim tensed, aware that Oracle was tracking his parents' whereabouts. "Your parents, chose to go to England, instead of coming back to the states. They want to get into Afghanistan, and there is a good chance of that, with one of the universities in the United Kingdom."
"That's really safe," Tim groaned.
"Do you want to redirect their movements?" Bruce asked cautiously.
"You know they won't bite on anything else, when they might get access to such a restricted area," Tim shook his head. "Thanks for letting me know."
Bruce wanted to say more, but Tim bent his head down, wanting the conversation to be over. Despite his frustration that his parents had found a taste for danger in their archeological hunts, the knot in his stomach unwound. They would not be coming home and making any challenges. Tim still belonged to Bruce, who wanted him.
Until Tim knew Bruce was well on his way to Wayne Enterprises, he did not let himself really think on it. Jason and Dick were in the City, Stephanie and Cass were probably still in their rooms, and Damian had been absent all morning. He was alone and could let himself mull over it in peace.
He felt the familiar pang of guilt that he was relieved that his parents were away, but had very little time to dwell on it. His laptop started chiming out an alert. Someone was trying to access his very private, very secure files on the Bat Network. Fury flooded Tim. Only Damian had any need to do that.
It was not right for Damian to find out the extent of what his parents had done to Tim. It was hard enough to deal with his arrogant belief that he had the right to kick Tim out of Bruce's life. Robin's eyes were dangerous as he climbed down and stalked towards the cave.
Damian
Father had set a hard task for Damian. Unlocking Drake's medical records was hard enough, but after three days of plugging away at it, Damian had accessed them. Unlike the previous two Robins, there were less of severe injuries, but a lot of small ones, like a bruise here or there, a black eye, or a minor sprain. In fact, the majority of Drake's little injuries that were recorded were suspicious. The last major injury was from a year ago, a concussion and a dislocated, sprained arm.
The timing on that one was especially suspicious, since it was just a day later that Drake was officially moved into Wayne Manor to have a 'normal' upbringing, while his parents traveled.
Fortunately, everyone's attention was on the extortion attempt on the clinic. He had ample time to work on hacking into Father's systems. Briefly he considered asking mother for assistance, but knew she would be angry with that. She had grilled him in hacking since he could read and type.
So, he continued at it, determined to show Father he could complete the challenges, to prove to Mother that he was worthy to be her son. It took him another day to finally break into the entire file. He had had to sneak into the Cave early in the morning, while Father was headed to a board meeting, Grayson and Todd had left for some mysterious purpose, Cain and Brown were somewhere on the estate grounds, and Drake had hidden away in the library.
At last the file laid open to him. He greedily read every little, damning word that confirmed his hypothesis. Both Father and Grayson's reports had some drivel in them about their 'guilt' at missing the signs. Drake's parents had not just abandoned him. They had also hit, deprived, and verbally assaulted him. Damian would never allow some plebian to touch him like that. Mother had had Damian hit in training and punishment, but only to teach him, and the days he missed meals were training him to control his body.
Drake was not just weak, he was a fool. With his training as Robin, his startling ability to manipulate people, he should never had been touched by the weak man and woman. Yet he had allowed them to harm him.
A gauntleted hand slammed down on the keyboard, shutting the file. Damian barely restrained a yelp, and spun around to meet the furious eyes of Timothy Drake. Drake was suited up from his video conference meeting with his meta friends, but had not put the mask on, so no white lenses blocked out the heat of the hate. With a shove, Damian escaped the chair and backed into the open cave floor.
"What are you doing?" Drake growled, his long cape as still as he was, hiding his limbs.
"Father locked those files to test me," Damian reminded him. "I just beat his test! Now, he knows I can hack a computer system better than you. Now, I know just how pathetic you are."
Had any but the son of Batman and the Demon's Daughter stood there, they would have flinched at the storm rising in Drake. Damian had never seen Drake truly angry before. It was startling to see a measure of Father's glare in the cold face of the weak Robin.
"All you know is that my so-called parents were selfish and cruel. How do you think I ended up here, in this cape? I didn't have parents any more than the rest of our siblings," Drake snorted. Damian opened his mouth to deny any relationship with the riffraff. Them, he could tolerate only as charity cases. Even Grandfather had charity work. The teenager did not let him get a word in.
"You don't get it, do you? You think because he gave the genetic material to spawn you, that you are somehow better than the rest of us? Dick has more claim on him than any of us! Even Stephanie has more claim than you do! He doesn't trust you anymore than he did me, when I first came to him. You have not proved yourself worthy of the Bat!"
"Shut up!" Damian screeched, bitterly unable to deny Father had not let him join in his work yet, nor did Father touch him as much as he did Drake or any of the others. Father did not trust his son. It was why there were tests. "He'll see I am better, I am stronger, I am smarter than all of you, when you lie defeated below me."
It was foolish to say this, at the same moment of attacking. Even Drake saw the attack coming a mile away, and moved swiftly out of the way. Damian spun around to meet Drake's counter attack, but the teenager had merely moved out of the boy's immediate reach. As Damian coiled for another attack, Robin held up his hand.
"Stop, Damian. Fighting isn't going to solve either of our issues. You can't beat me."
"I've studied you for weeks! I know exactly what you are capable of!"
Drake was silent for a moment, icy blue eyes fixed on Damian's darker, blue pair. He seemed to decide something and then stepped back into a defensive pose.
"Very well. It seems strength is the only language you will hear."
Damian launched into his first series of attacks as the older boy spoke. This time Drake met the blows, catching or deflecting them. The cape, which ought to have hampered him, concealed his smaller, telling movements, so that Damian could not be sure of how he was going to defend, until the last moment. At the end of the first set of attacks, Drake caught Damian's wrist in a vice like grip.
A moment of dread crept up the boy's spine. He had not seen this strength before. It was as if someone else stood in Drake's place. The sh-sh sound of metal on metal was Batman's Son's only warning before the bo staff, which Drake carried as Robin, shot out from under the cape. It took the full extent of Damian's agility to get out of the way, before it would have struck his solar plexus.
He flipped out of the way and landed in a crouch, unable to stop his surprise from showing in his body. There was no such surprise in his rival's eyes. Drake had known what he could do. He had concealed what he could do when Damian had watched him.
A sentence from the file, that had started this final showdown, struck Damian hard then. Todd had both praised, and regretted, Drake's ability to lie. No one knew what was on Robin's mind. He could be whatever you expected to see, only to surprise you the next moment.
Is that what Father saw? Is that why he loved Drake? Drake could be the son Father expected, could play every role required. Everyone always called Drake intelligent, often deferring to him when he spoke. Even Father always gave him his full attention, something he did not always give even Grayson, much less Damian.
Emotion, Mother had always said, should not be used to fuel fight. It might give you strength, but it would also dull your senses. Damian Al Ghul proved that to himself, the hard way, in the next thirty seconds.
He screamed and threw himself at Drake, going for the older boy's eyes. Drake did not even flinch, throwing his staff out horizontally between them, so that Damian ran into it and was thrown to the ground. The air left his traitorous lungs, and in the moment while they recovered, Drake knelt at his side, hands near the sensitive areas on Damian's neck.
Drake had beaten him.
Mother would be furious that he had not won Father's respect. Father would not see how strong Damian could be, not when he had Drake already perfect for the role of son. When he sent Damian back to Mother, she would disown him for failing to meet her goals. He would be the abandoned!
"Come on, kid," Drake said, backing up. "I know it's hard to find out you were wrong. Let's get something to drink."
Still stunned by his loss, Damian found Drake lifting him to his feet gently. He was guided by the same steel hands that had not allowed him to even touch the older boy, over to a table shoved into a well-lit corner. There were pieces of all of them there, from Father's forgotten watch, to one of Drake's mugs, to even Brown's book. Nothing of Damian was there. He did not belong.
"I am sorry for getting so angry. You should not have looked at those files. Bruce locked them because you would use them against me. I think you would, but I think you might understand also. Your Mother has done the same thing to you, hasn't she? She wants you to be something, and you want so much to fit that role, but some parts of you don't fit."
What? How could Drake know those small, hidden fears that he did not match Mother's expectations, that he would never have Mother's complete affection and respect?
"Damian, I don't know what she did to you, but it was wrong. Parents aren't supposed to harm their children if they don't meet their expectations. My parents did, because all they wanted was an Heir, a tool they could use. Is that what your Mother did? She made you Bruce's Heir to fulfill her goals. She didn't even send you here to get to know your father, but to force him to change his mind about adopting more kids."
The cold mask was gone. Drake was baring himself to his enemy, showing the parts of him damaged by his parents. Parts that matched with Damian's squashed away fractures. Damian had never felt so frightened, so little, so angry. Drake had no right to be anything like Damian!
Drake had no right to see into those nightmares.
When Drake turned away to the small fridge, to pull out two drinks, Damian slid his hand down to his boot, where he always had a knife. By the time Drake turned back, it was in his hand. Pity, and Damian's stunned inability to talk, had lulled Drake into lowering his watchfulness. He thought he was going to bond.
He slid onto the bench next to Damian, and offered the green drink. Damian recoiled, shocked that Drake had caught onto his preference for that one. Who was Drake? Who was this teenage boy who saw what no one, not Mother, not Father, not even Grandfather, had seen in Damian's most private thoughts? Did he know how to rid himself of the breathless nightmares?
Mother could not be wrong. If she was wrong, Damian's whole life was wrong.
"Damian, no!" Cain screamed, but she only distracted Drake from the blade before it slid into the slit between his chest armor and back armor. The angle was wrong because he turned towards the girl, and even before Cain was dragging Damian over the table, the boy knew he had not killed his rival. But he had surprised him. He had taken victory back.
Damian did not even try to fight Cain when she struck his throat just enough to drop him. It did not matter anymore. Damian had won.
Dun, Dun, Dun
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