TOY

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— Alfred, why isn't my son in bed yet? — Bruce asked loud, making it clear that he was disappointed - and moody. He was hurrying down the stairs, adjusting the last buttons of his overcoat that covered the already dressed part of his uniform.

— He is still refusing to eat, Master Bruce — the butler replied with some regret.

Damian, however obedient he was, refused to eat anything since the morning of that day. Notably, this type of "bad behavior" started when Selina said goodbye to the little boy with some excuse about modeling outside the city. As much as the "mother" had the reasons to go to Metropolis, the child understood that as another person moving away from him - it had been two days since Jason left.

— ... Dick said he would make him eat — Wayne stopped at the penultimate step, clutched his temples and waited until the vision was focused again.

— Master Dick failed.

— I haven't done it yet, Alfred — The boy gave an encouraging smile as he approached them — But I bet if B will be able to convince him!

— ... Who do you think tried first? — The butler sighed — He should be hungry, if he hasn't eaten anything all day...

— He ate strawberries while he was with me... — the father replied disinterestedly, running his hands over the fabric to remove the crumples and walking slowly towards the dining room.

— We are not in the age of strawberries, Master Bruce — Alfred raised an eyebrow, accusingly, waiting for a valid justification for that not being just a kind of excuse for the child's lack of appetite.

— Strawberry candies.

— Ah...! — the elderly man pretended to be surprised, walking right behind Wayne — Really, strawberries candies is very nutritious. Maybe I should have given him a pizza for dinner instead of steamed vegetables.

— Maybe he doesn't like vegetables anymore — Dick said as if unraveling a mystery, optimistically, going after them.

Within seconds the three were already at the door; they could see Damian sitting at the table, crestfallen, turning the food on his plate without any interest. Bruce squeezed his temple once more, uncomfortable with the blurred vision; Richard remained optimistic, with a docile look directed at his younger brother; Alfred, the most experienced with children, let the concern show:

— I believe that the distance from the mother left him without hunger and now that the father is leaving the house... — the butler murmured as if he wants nothing — I bet this boy will refuse even to go to bed... — Sighed.

— I can't stay at home, not today! — Bruce stared at the floor, rethinking whether he really should leave the house dressed as Batman. As much as he wanted to spend more time with his son, he needed to create a safe environment first.

Just thinking about the turmoil of recent events, the night watchman felt a pain in his chest. First Selina hurries off after a call from Lois - she refused to give more information, even refused to say how serious it was. Afterwards, he learns that the Joker ran away again... just thinking about that noxious madman being able to do something against Damian, Bruce's pressure started to peak.

— Why can't you stay with me? — Damian asked standing up, facing the adults with a mixture of sadness and sleep. Unlike his father, he had no idea what was going on outside the walls of that mansion. This lack of information from abroad made him anguished without even understanding why, since the only thing he knew was that everyone left and took a long time to return.

— ... Son... — He tried to find the most appropriate answer, but the damn headache with the blurred vision prevented him from being as focused as usual.

— Because he will meet Selina and the two will return together! — Grayson answered for his father, trying to appear as confident as possible. He only noticed the bullshit he did when the youngest of the house looked at something with teary eyes, murmuring under his breath:

— ... Dad didn't say him was going far too.

— No, Dami... — Dick gave a nervous smile and continued: — They are going back together from the airport, right, B?

— ... Yes.

Bruce finally looked at his son, only to feel even worse: Damian's eyes, those green eyes that were so beautiful shining, betrayed the child's lack of confidence in his father. It was no wonder, since they had barely seen each other since they returned from the hospital. Bruce was always "too busy" to pay attention to his son, save on the rare occasions when he waited until he fell asleep to leave the house or when the little one sat next to him, in the office, drawing - both in silence.

— ... You don't have to lie... — the little one murmured despondently and went to Alfred, hugging the butler and hiding his face — I'm still not hungry. Can I go to my room, Mr. Pennyworth?

— Eat at least the broccoli, Master Damian — The butler asked, returning the hug. As much as he was being considerate of the youngest, he kept a heavy eye on Bruce and Richard.

— Take him to the room, Alfred. If he doesn't want to eat, it is better not to force... — Bruce murmured defeated. The truth is that any kind of scolding could make the situation worse between the two.

— The medicines are too strong to take on an empty stomach — Dick explained in a whisper, as if trying to hide from his younger brother the complete lack of technical knowledge from his father.

The night watchman let out a heavy sigh, clutching his temples and trying to think of what he could do. He wanted to call his girlfriend and beg her to come back, or even go look for Jason and bring him back - even if it was by force.

To make the mood even worse, Tim joined them. Damian, of the few times he stayed in the same environment as him, did everything to stay away or ignore his younger brother - the effect of what happened when Timmy took care of him alone.

— We better go before...! — Before Tim finished what he was going to say, he noticed the little one still hugging Alfred and completely changed the course of that conversation, even changed the tone: — ... Hi gremlin.

Silence.

Everyone was silent.

Tim crossed his arms, waiting for any response. Dick and Bruce looked at each other, knowing it would make the situation even worse - mainly because Timothy made it clear that he would accompany his father.

Alfred, who was serving as a shield for Damian, simply tried to appease things:

— Won't you say "good night" to your brother, Master Damian?

— ... Night — the little one whispered, hiding his face even more.

To everyone's surprise, Timothy smiled and approached the youngest - positive effect from the hours of sleep he had and the reduction in the amount of caffeine consumed. With a friendly and even playful tone, he told the youngest to listen:

— Too bad the gremlin doesn't want to talk to me, I was going to give him a toy...

— What kind of toy? — Bruce asked stoically, suspecting that "truce" moment.

— A prototype that did not work... — He lifted his shoulders, as if that were nothing too much — It was supposed to be a spy drone, but it is just a remote controlled bird — He smiled, waiting patiently until Damian stared at him. As for the older ones, they just made their disapproval clear:

— I don't think it's a good idea.

— I must agree with Master Bruce.

— I think it's a great idea! — Dick put his hands on the younger brother's shoulders, separating him from the butler and leading him back to the table — If you eat everything, Tim gives you the toy, right, Timmy?

— If Bruce agrees... — the nerd took the responsibility off his own shoulders.

— I'm not hungry and I don't want any toys — Damian said seriously, surprising everyone by appearing to have "come to himself" from one moment to the next — I'm thirteen years old, I don't want toys.

— You know, gremlin... — Timothy, far from looking offended, just smirked and continued: — But it's not just any toy... In fact, it's even good that you don't want to: a brat like you didn't would know how to use!

— Yes, I would know! — the little one had red cheeks.

— I doubt it... — he hissed slowly, teasing his brother.

— You two are enough! — Bruce interfered, exhausted and with his mood even more impaired — Tim, take that toy! And Damian, you better eat everything on the plate before your brother comes back! — Said seriously, with no gaps for oppositions.

Drake, who was staring at his father in shock, took a few seconds to turn his back on everyone and fetch the prototype from the Batcave. He wanted to run and come back as fast as he could to get rid of that frown, but his legs just accepted walking.

Damian stared at the plate with the vegetables. He felt his eyes burning, but he didn't want to cry... not now. He was disappointing his father again - because he knew it had happened before, however much he could not remember. He started stuffing the vegetables in his mouth as fast as he could, barely chewing before swallowing. When he was finished, feeling suffocated by both food and the urge to cry, the little boy stared at his older brother in a silent request to leave.

— ... Come on, kiddo... it's past time for you to sleep — Richard smiled, trying to pretend that nothing had happened and that everything would be fine. He took his brother in his arms, since just being a support for him to walk would take too long.

Alfred watched his children, feeling completely helpless there. Bruce, the great wrong, threw himself into one of the chairs and rested his forehead on the table - he felt his head pounding as his heart beat, racing and racing.

Timothy Drake, when he finally came back carrying the prototype in his arms, looked at his father, still scared, and then left. He didn't want to ask where the younger brother might be because the answer was too obvious: in the bedroom, crying, probably with Dick.

And so they really were: Dick sitting on the bed with Damian on his lap, crying, muttering words that made no sense and could hardly be heard. Timmy left the toy on the floor beside them, whispering an empty promise before leaving:

— Tomorrow we play in the garden.

The youngest didn't even look at him. He continued to feel terrible, mainly because he did not blame his father for that outburst of irritation, he blamed himself for not yet having achieved a desirable behavior, a behavior that would attract people to him instead of just alienating him.

— You are very brave, Dami... — Dick whispered some time later, when the little one had only a few tears stubbornly running down his face — If it were me, I would have hidden under the table!

— ... Has he ever fought with you? — he whispered, still not looking directly at his brother.

— A lot of times! — the eldest replied getting to laugh — You know, it's that kind of thing that makes you sad at the time, but then you see that they were both idiots.

— Master Bruce has a real talent for acting like an idiot — Alfred murmured entering the room, carrying a glass of water and some pills in his hand.

— ... Medicines?

— It is already late, kiddo — the brother answered by the butler, finally letting the little one go and leaving him alone in bed — You better sleep now.

— Master Dick is right — Alfred smiled, approaching the little one and waiting until he took the medicines.

— ... And... Can someone stay with me until I sleep? — he asked and wiped his hands over his face, wiping the tear marks — ... please?

— You didn't even need to ask such a thing, Dami — Dick said taking a book from the shelf and then throwing himself on the bed — With storytime and everything! — He smiled, extending the book for the youngest to read - it was Damian who read those "boring subjects" until he fell asleep.

— The Art of War? Is it about a painter who went to war or something? — the youngest asked right after looking at the cover, leafing carefully until he reached the first chapter.

— Something like that... — Alfred murmured a little unhappy with the choice of the book, leaving soon after and asking: — Don't sleep too late!

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NOTE

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You know that image of Batman slapping Robin Dick in the face? So, it didn't really happen, it happened in an alternative DC story (Worlds Finest Comics n.153).

I didn't read this story or I just don't remember it. Anyway, I'll leave a short resume here that I got on the ScreenRant website:

Thomas Wayne, Bruce's father, is still alive in this story. He was working on a cure for green kryptonite (we already see the connection with the kryptonians here), a cure that interested Superboy in the event of an attack by Lex Luthor. Thomas warns that he hasn't done enough tests with that healing serum yet, so he couldn't deliver it.

On the same night, Bruce finds his father dead in the laboratory, notices that the serum has been stolen and can see part of the blue and red clothing when the culprit flies out the window. More than enough evidence that Superboy was to blame, thus motivating the creation of the Batman we know and love: the avenging orphan.

The years go by, Bruce trained to take on the bat cloak and had already adopted Dick - admitting him as Robin too. However, when Batman finally plans the trip to Metropolis to finally defeat his enemy, Robin tries to convince him that Superman (the adult Superboy) would never do anything like that.

The two laughed a lot and Dick was slapped.

Okay, they didn't laugh, Batman just lost control and slapped Robin in the face. Then he repented and even used a hypnosis machine to clear the boy's memory, keeping the secret of his double life and breaking the partnership against crime.

The end of this story is so strange that I won't even put it here.