Don't allow yourself to wake up with yesterday's issues troubling your mind. See every day as a new chapter.

Chapter Fifteen

Damian was sweating. It took nearly all of his willpower to keep from screaming out. That was the third time that week that he had that particular nightmare. Last week it was his mother coming and killing his family in front of him. This week it was himself that was killing them all.

The nightmares had started a while ago. The first one appeared when they moved Drake into his room. They were rare then. They started to increase after he was regularly patrolling again. Now he had a new one every week. But it always ended the same. With him surrounded by the blood and bodies of his brothers and father.

Titus lifted his head and rested it on the edge of his bed. He wasn't allowed up there usually, but since the nightmares started, he'd been creeping up to comfort his master.

Damian reached out and scratched his head.

"He's worried about you, you know."

Damian looked up to see his father standing at the door.

"Father! I-" He searched frantically for some excuse, any excuse.

"I am too. You haven't even gone inside Tim's room once since we got him back."

Damian frowned. "But we didn't get him back! We got a body that looks like his ugly mug! If it was him he would be annoying us all."

"You should go and talk to him. And I know that he won't answer," Bruce quickly added holding up his hand to silence Damian. "Maybe telling him what you're feeling could help you. He won't judge you."

Damian folded his arms across his chest and turned away from Bruce. The thought that the imbicile could help him was absurd.

Bruce inhaled through his nose deeply. He needed to let his son come to his own conclusions. Even if he didn't agree with them. So he leaned forward, placed his hand in his son's dark black hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"When you need me, you know where I'll be."

He rose from his son's bed and left him alone with his thoughts. He made it to the door and looked back at his youngest. If he looked closely he thought he could see a tear falling down Damian's face. Or perhaps he only imagined it.

Damian wouldn't admit that he wanted to go and talk to Drake. But he wasn't sure if he had the courage to go in there. So he stayed in that position for a while.

Before he realized just what he was doing, his feet were out of his bed and walking towards Drake's room. His feet padded silently along the carpet, and Titus' collar jingled as he followed his master.

"Stay Titus," Damian commanded once he got to Drake's door.

Titus sat and watched as his master disappeared behind the door.

Damian stared at Drake's sleeping body. He looked so peaceful, he probably wasn't experiencing the nightmares that Damian was. His legs weren't bandaged anymore. The bones had healed months ago. Everything broken had healed, but he still hadn't awoken.

Damian sat on the window seat.

"Father thinks I should talk to you. I think he's delusional. What's the point of talking to someone if they don't answer? Although I won't have to hear your dumb voice so that's a plus I guess."

Drake didn't remark back. Like he should have. Damian could feel anger building up inside of him. He jumped up and glared down at Drake.

"You're such a dumbass Drake! How dare you even think about doing this to me-our family! You failed to see your own worth! You made Gray-Richard cry on his wedding day. His wedding day! Brown ends up crying at least once a week when she visits, and she's an ugly crier. Although Todd's actually been rather civil since your accident."

"Why'd you do it? Maintain your course when you knew what result would come of it? I never asked you to help me. I didn't want your help. I don't understand why you would do it. You said we were brothers. Prove it."

Damian stared down at Drake's body. It did not change, except for his chest as the machine breathed in and out for him. His eyes remained closed. Damian's anger reached the point he couldn't contain it anymore.

"Dammit Drake!" He yelled, forgetting that it was the middle of the night. "You always manage to ruin everything! Even when you have good intentions you manage to screw everyone over!"

Hot tears welled up in Damian's eyes.

"I hate you! You're a selfish, self-sacrificial, arrogant asshole! How dare you leave us in this way!" His tears began to fall down his cheeks.

"I HATE you! Wake up! Wake up dammit!"

Damian felt large arms surround him from behind. He was lifted up and placed on someone's lap. Damian turned and buried his face into his father's chest. Bruce rubbed his youngest's back.

"Why won't he just wake up? It's been months since the accident. He should have woken up by now. He has to wake up soon."

"Damian. Comas are different than just being unconscious. It may take a while before he has the strength to wake up." Bruce looked over at his second youngest.

"But he has too. I have to kick his ass for putting m-you through this," Damian said turning to glare at Tim.

"I miss him too, Damian."

Damian scoffed. "As if."

"It's alright to miss him Damian. Who else would you fight with when you've got nothing else to do?"

Damian wiped his eyes. He didn't cry. Crying was for babies and lower beings. But Drake had cried.

"I'm sorry," Damian murmured. "I'm sorry Tim."

Damian turned back into his father's chest. His eyes were still moist, but nothing fell over. Bruce rubbed the boy's back and lifted him up. He carried him out of Tim's bedroom back into his own. Titus stood from his position and followed his master back. Damian was half asleep as Bruce lay down his son on his bed. Bruce covered Damian with the blanket and left the room.

A small blip appeared on the electronic screen.

Stephanie was painting her nails. Purple of course. She was nestled on the window seat, looking out at the changing leaves on the trees.

"The leaves outside are beautiful, Timmy. It would be a lovely day for a walk on the grounds."

Tim didn't answer her. Steph didn't expect him to. She had gotten used to his silence over the past few months. She listened to birds as they began their flight south. She closed her polish bottle and blew on her nails.

"Ya'know, I was thinking the other day."

She looked over at Tim's face. Still peaceful. Still beautiful.

"I know that it's only been a few years, but I want to find my daughter. But the thing is, I want you to be by my side when I find her. You were there throughout my pregnancy and I want you to be there when I find her again. And I used to have this daydream. I kept my baby and you helped me raise her. I would come home and you would be playing with her on the floor. Somehow you whittled your way into her heart and became her daddy."

Stephanie left her spot and sat next to Tim on the bed. She held onto his hand.

"You'd be a great dad. I know you would." Steph laid next to Tim and wrapped his arm around her. "I miss our cuddles."

A small beep filled the air.

Steph looked towards her phone. No new messages. Odd. She rested her head down on Tim's shoulder like she used to when they were younger.

"We all miss you dork wonder. Even if some of us won't admit it." Steph began to tap her fingers on Tim's chest to a silent beat.

There were a few more beeps in the air.

Steph looked to the brainwave monitor incredulously. It couldn't be. The doctors said that chances of him waking up were slim to none.

"Timmy? Can you hear me?"

No voice answered her, the waves grew stronger.

Steph tried to reach her phone without moving from Tim's side. His family needed to know right away of this development. She couldn't reach.

"Of all the times for my Jedi powers to fail," She muttered.

She leapt off the bed, grabbed her phone and began dialing before lying down next to Tim again.

"DICK, it's happening!"

Damian was greatly irritated. Father and Richard decided that it would be good to send him to school. In public. With other children. It was demeaning.

At least that's what he thought the first week or so.

This was much worse.

He was supposed to be giving a report on his family. Describing his relationships with each of them. He hated it. Most ways his relationships grew between him, his brothers, and his father was when there were masks on their faces. And that couldn't be discussed in a lowly school paper. Which means most of this paper was bull shit.

Damian tugged on his tie. Dumb uniform.

"When you're ready Mr. Wayne," his teacher prompted.

Damian held back a sneer.

"My family is different than most others. Most of us are not related to each other by blood. My three older brothers and older sister have all been adopted by my father. In addition, we have a butler who lives with us, who behaves as a grandfather would."

Damian really hated this assignment.

"My eldest brother's name is Richard. He seems to prefer being called Dick. Although I do not see the appeal of having people call you male genitalia that people us as an insult."

A few in his class chuckled. Damian didn't understand the humor. He continued with his dumb report.

"Recently he married his girlfriend. I was forced, along with my brother Jason, to be groomsmen. It was about time anyway, their googly eyes at each other when they thought no one was looking was quite bothersome."

"My next oldest brother is Jason. He has some anger issues and is in therapy. He hated me when I first met him, but he has mellowed out some."

"Cassandra is my only sister. She doesn't speak very often, which is alright with me, that is one less annoying voice for me to hear around the house. She travels quite a lot

"Timothy is closest in age to me. He is an idiot, yet he cares for us all in his own dumb way."

A commotion was heard outside. The students and teacher's eyes darted to the door. Damian stopped speaking. Yelling could be heard but words were unintelligible. The disturbance grew closer to their door. Damian's heart began to beat faster, ready to defend the other students.

"Mr. Wayne, this is a disturbance to the other students. We could've simply paged-"

The door to the classroom opened and multiple people filled in. The school's secretary, a slightly older woman began apologizing to the teacher. Bruce stood, still in his business attire, looking at his youngest. Dick stood behind him chattering rapidly into a phone. Even Jason stood there, looking fairly happy.

"What is the meaning of this?" Damian asked.

"Damian, its Tim." That was all Bruce said.

That was all that needed to be said. Papers slipped out of his hands and he stared at his ragtag family. It may have only been a few seconds, but it felt like hours as he and his father stared at each other. Finally his tongue of lead began to move.

"Is he-?"

Bruce nodded.

He wasn't excited. He wasn't. He didn't grab his backpack and nearly run out if the room. He wasn't happy. And there was certainly not a faint smile on his face.

He was lying.

"I didn't think you cared this much about Drake, brat," Jason smirked.

"Shut your face, or I'll cut your tongue out," Damian growled.

"Damian," Dick rebuked.

Damian bit his tongue, but didn't apologize. He continued his stroll towards the vehicle where Alfred would be waiting. He was going home. He needed to be there when Tim woke up. If only to put him back into a coma for dragging everyone through the mud for the last few months.

He was lying on a cloud. At least he thought it was a cloud. It was soft, and comfortable, and his head was on something fluffy. He tried reaching out. He was wrapped around in something cool. The mist surrounding his mind slowly dissipated.

Sheets. Those were sheets wrapped around him. Heaven had sheets? Or was this hell? He fought to open his eyes. Hell wouldn't have him in a bed. It was a bed. Faint voices drifted to his ears. No words, just sounds. A deep bass hushed the tenor that had been speaking. A warmer tenor said something off to the other side. Then a soprano whispered near him.

Names. He fought for names. He knew them. He knew he knew them. He focused on the bass. B. B something. Brett. Bryan. Something with the brr sound in front.

"Bru-"

Bru. Bruce! His name was Bruce. Bruce was there.

He opened his eyes, slowly. It was bright. Much too bright. His eyes closed again.

"Tim? Can you hear me?"

Tim? His name was Tim. They were talking to him. He should answer the question. That was the polite thing to do.

He opened his eyes again. The lights were dimmer. It took a moment for his eyes to readjust, everything was a little blurry.

"Tim?"

Slowly he turned to the voice. It was a blonde figure. He watched as the image sharpened, with blue eyes, and a wide smile. Stephanie.

"St-Steph." He went to lick his lips, to find there was no saliva in his mouth.

"Figures, the first words out of his mouth are his girlfriend's," Someone, Jason muttered.

"Hush," Steph told him. "Tim, what's the last thing you remember?"

Tim looked behind Steph to Dick's face. He looked as happy as usual with a dash of relief. Tim's eyes scrolled across the room. Bruce stood at the edge of his bed looking the most relaxed he had ever seen him. A little behind him was Alfred, smiling happily as he was darning someone's socks. Jason stood leaning against his dresser with his trademark smirk.

"Damian. I told him to leave me behind. I don't remember after that." Tim's unused face muscles scrunched into a worried look. The longer he thought about it, the more he began to panic. He started to hyperventilate.

"Tim, relax. It's alright, Damian made it home safe." Bruce neglected to talk about the condition Damian came back in. What Tim didn't know, wouldn't hurt.

"Where, where is he?" Tim dragged himself to a sitting position. His bones ached from lack of use.

"Are you blind as well as ignorant?"

Damian stepped out from behind his father, arms folded. His eyes hid whatever feeling that he may be having, so Tim couldn't read him. As Damian walked closer, he wondered if he was going to be hit. That would be something that Damian after he had woke up after something he did that was stupid.

Damian went right up to Tim's face. His blue eyes stared into Tim's.

"If you think about ever doing that ever again Tim, I will personally make your life a living hell."

Before anyone could process that he had called him Tim to his face, Tim reached up and wrapped his arms around Damian. He then whispered so quietly that only Damian would hear.

"I love you too, brat."