Alfred was so fucking wise. He was Ben Kenobi and Yoda wrapped in Mister Miyagi with a dash of Gandalf.
He and Dick had been talking, actually Alfred talked and Dick just stood there, trying to wrap his head around the awesomeness that was the old man. It was pretty obvious why Bruce heard whatever advice came from the butler and Dick was not different in that aspect.
The words washed through him soothingly, exactly what he needed after his failed search for Damian. That is up until a single sentence hit him like a ton of bricks.
Have you considered the possibility that Master Damian doesn't want to be found?
Alfred's voice circled around Dick's brain in a loop while he stood staring at Tim's door.
His hand found the doorknob on its own accord, not bothering to knock. Tim was sitting on the edge of the bed, his skin was flushed pink, and if the slight fog coming out of the bathroom told anything, he'd just scalded himself with a shower.
"Any news?" Tim looked up, his eyes a little off.
Dick shook his head no. "I need to know what happened."
"I told you, I don't know."
"Yeah, you do. You don't remember most of it, but you saw him. How was he?"
Tim gritted his teeth "I don't know."
"You said he was hurt. How did you know that?"
"Damian told me."
"Oh, so you zooned out after we had our little chat, when by the way you told me you were okay, then you floated back to your body to find Damian going 'Hello, dearest brother! I seem to be hurt. So long now'?" the only answer he got was a scowl "Come on, man, help me out here."
"Could you tell me what I should say so you can leave?" this uncooperative act was grating Dick's nerves.
"I know you got a face full of pollen and your head's still warped all wrong, that's the only reason I'm letting that slide." Tim had the decency to look abashed, but Dick was on a roll and the next words came in a frantic growl "I lost Bruce's kid. Can you wrap your addled little brain around that?" maybe he laughed, maybe he sounded hysteric "I'm supposed to take care of that weirdly endearing obnoxious brat, yet he's reportedly hurt and most definitely in danger in the middle of Gotham goddamn City!" maybe Damian doesn't want to be found "I want you to tell me everything, anything that could help me make sense of this god-awful mess!"
"Well, Dick," Tim said snidely, his eyebrow arched mockingly and so not Tim at all "What the hell do you think happened?"
"I have an idea." was Dick's clipped answer "But I rather hear you say it."
"You want me to say it?" all the sneer disappeared and Timmy was back in all his teenager angst. The words tumbled from his mouth desperately "You want me to tell you that the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Damian shying away from me? Tied up and half naked? You want me to tell you how I could barely get close enough to cut him loose, how I've never seen him that terrified? How he'd rather jump off of a fucking building with no line whatsoever just so he could get away from me? You might've lost Bruce's kid, Dick, but I was the one who raped him!"
Dick had his eyes closed by the end of his little brother's rant. He took a step forward and Tim actually flinched, it made Dick second guess himself for an instant, but he took a deep breath and clasped a hand on Tim's shoulder. "It wasn't you."
Tim stared at the ground and clenched his fists "It sure as hell looked like it was me when Damian flat out told me that I hurt him."
"Did you consciously look at Damian and thought that it would be dandy to rip his pants down and-"
"God no!" Tim cut him, appalled "You know that!"
"You didn't do that. It wasn't you." Dick repeated, trying to put all the honesty he could muster into those words "You weren't on your right mind. It wasn't your fault."
"You really believe that?" Tim asked dubiously.
"How could I not?" Dick sighed "I know you. I know you must be…" the sentence lingered, unfinished "But I need you to keep it together now. I need… I need him back, Tim."
Tim bit his lips, face twisted with pain, but he nodded. They stayed like that for a moment, Tim stiff as a board, Dick's hand still on his shoulder.
Then Dick took a deep breath "What happened there? What did you see."
Tim talked. That same twinge of desperation coloring his voice, his movements getting wider as his posture relaxed bit by bit. Big brother sat beside him and let him spill it, their eyes not meeting, trying to make it easier.
They were both drained when it ended, but the silence felt different now.
"It wasn't your fault either." Tim said suddenly "You couldn't have known."
Dick sighed, long and slow, keeping his eyes trained on the carpet between his feet "I sent him to pick you up, barely explained what the pollen was or what it did, so yeah… You're not the only one beating yourself up." he tried a smile, but his skin felt too tight over his skull "But we'll get him back." with one last pat to his brother's back, Dick stood and making it slowly to the door "We'll make things right."
Tim frowned and spoke after a beat "I don't think that's possible anymore."
Maybe Damian doesn't want to be found.
Dick closed his eyes again for a second, and glanced back "We'll find him."
Robin was declared officially missing.
But Jason couldn't make himself worry about the kid, every Robin deserved a little freak out every once in a while and if anyone could take care of themselves on the street, it was the demon brat. So let him run wild for a while and blow off some steam, he'll go back on his own, abashed and ashamed – or whatever passed for it with this particular problem child –, Dick would tear him a new one and that would be that. Maybe they'd even ground the kid.
That would be hilarious.
It made Jason itch to hop by the manor and make Damian watch Mowgli with him.
Truthfully, Jason knew Damian hated him – though he didn't take it personally, since the kid hated everyone – but after their little moment that other night, Jason felt… Sentimental.
Broken things and torn Robin suits gave him feelings.
But with his idea about the overall picture of what had happened, it was a total surprise when he walked into a bar and heard about the new monster in town.
"I tell ya!" a skinny drunk shouted angrily "That thing jumped out of nowhere, like a leprechaun on crack and beat the shit out of us!"
It really looked like it, the dude was missing a couple of front teeth, one black eye, the other swelled shut, and Jason couldn't even see the rest of him.
"That's what you get messing with that mutants gang, dipshit." another guy, mostly hidden behind a thick curtain of smoke cackled at his own comment eliciting a low laugh from the others.
"It wasn't the mutants, I tell ya!" skinny drunk bellowed "I never seen anything like it! At first I thought it was one of them little street punks, but it moved quick as a bat out of hell and it gleamed a terrible yellow! I'm damn sure it was radioactive!"
"Hhmm!" smoke covered guy hummed appreciatively "Chernobyl monsters."
The jab made Jason smirk, but the really delightful part was that Skinny Drunk didn't even realize how right he was when he guessed 'a bat out of hell'.
"And where did you find the radioactive leprechaun?" Jason drawled over his beer.
"Ya don't believe me?" Skinny Drunk stood puffing his chest in a challenge. It made him look like a chicken "Look at what that thing did to me!"
"I couldn't care less if you were beaten to shit by a ten year old dressed as Robin" that got a laugh out of everyone "I just wanna know where it happened."
"Why?"
Jason's eyes nearly crossed. Couldn't people just collaborate? Seriously, this was grating on his nerves. Whatever happened to respecting the huge dude asking the questions? No, now everyone was banging his head on stuff and trying to eat his face.
"Why not?"
"Don't need no one pretending to go out there and dealing with the little monster. I'll handle that myself."
"Okay" said Jason with a restraint he didn't really feel as he moved effortlessly through tables and drunk people, a gun appearing on his hand and pointing directly to Skinny Drunk "Handle this first."
Skinny Drunk started to sputter, probably trying to choke on his own tongue, and most of the other guys moved away hastily. Loyalty was rarely on the menu with crowds like this.
"Just tell him, already!" Smoke Covered Guy sounded so bored, like this wasn't unusual at all "Jeez…"
Jason pressed the gun to Skinny Drunk's forehead, hard enough to leave a round mark "Yeah, man… Now is the time talk."
New lead in hand, Jason felt awfully chipper, and in dire need to rub that in someone's face.
"For someone so good at stalking, you're pretty shitty at coming up with the good info, Replacement."
"Not now, Jason."
He hung up. The fucking replacement hung up on him!
After gawking for a second, unable to believe that the one time he most certainly not dicking around, the fucking bats decide to ignore him.
Now if he's having a mental breakdown and just happens to be waving a gun around? Oh well, then he's gonna hear about it for the rest of his second fucking life!
Goddamn it, now he just has to go after Damian himself, find him, manhandle the kid home and while there? Jason's gonna knock the replacement's teeth out.
It seems only fair.
And sure, it was fun and easy to mock the replacement for being crap at finding clues about Damian, but actually tracking down the little shit? What a nightmare.
Even with the info Skinny Drunk gave him, Jason was barely even sure he was at the right place; he was considering going back to the bar and discussing the radioactive leprechaun theory when he found the first sign.
No wonder Dick and Douche had a problem finding Damian, badass League training made the kid pretty amazing at being invisible, thing is, Jason also had badass League training and could see through the attempt to cover his little demonic ass.
Ok, that's not entirely true, after all this was Damian; nothing was ever easy when he was involved.
But Jason, unlike some people, was not complete shit at this and managed to follow the trail to the end. Unfortunately, it ended at the back of a bakery and that didn't make any sense.
Not the trail vanishing – fucking 10 year old ninja assassin with his disappearing skills – that seemed accurate, if not predictable, but what the hell would the kid be doing at the bakery?
But the tiny, ridiculously little clues that the kid had been leaving so sporadically multiplied there, like he'd been there a lot, for longer amounts of time, and then it hit Jason.
How long had the kid been missing? A week? 10 days? He was hungry.
He was so hungry he'd been shuffling through whatever the bakery threw out.
Crap. Now Jason was… argh. Relating.
This sucked.
In fact Jason was slightly disappointed; he thought this one would do well out here, or at least that he wouldn't… turn trash for food. That was something you did before you found yourself in tights playing roof tag, not after.
But a lead was a lead, the kid had been there more than once and if Jason gut was right, he'd be back soon. It was just a matter of waiting and Jason had all the time in the world.
Well… It was to be expected, but…
Waiting was fucking boring.
There was only so much you can do to distract yourself while in complete silence and still trying to pay some degree of attention to your surroundings.
So. Fucking. Boring.
He was seriously considering giving himself a sharpie tattoo when finally – finally – something happened.
Unfortunately it was just a big woman putting out the trash. Jason groaned and shifted, bones creaking with the movement.
Maybe this was just a fucked up idea from the start.
Maybe Damian had just been there as long as it was convenient and now was long gone to never come back.
Maybe the little monster had left the trail leading there as a joke or a decoy and was lounging somewhere and laughing his-
Oh look, there he is.
The kid landed on silent feet, and though Jason couldn't see much of him, it was pretty obvious his cape was filthy. The yellow dulled out by grit and dirty and maybe blood? Not entirely impossible.
This was all wrong. What the hell was this kid doing here looking as if he'd been used to clean all the gutters in the city, that disgusting looking cape draped tightly around him, shielding himself, getting closer and closer to that trash can?
Jason frowned. Just that. He didn't even breath, but it was like the freaking sound of his eyebrows coming together drew Damian's attention to him.
For a tense second, Jason thought Damian would bolt, but the kid took a slow step forward, neck craned in Jason's general direction, clearly not intimidated at all. In fact, looking like he wanted a fight.
What a little creep.
Jason came out of his hiding place and Damian recoiled, tensing all over, waiting for an attack.
"Oh, come on kid, not this again." Jason complained, impatiently lifting his unarmed hands "We both know that if I wanted to hurt you, I'd just shoot you. Wouldn't even need to come this close."
It showed a lot about Damian's twisted sense of reality when that appeased him a bit.
"I just wanna talk" Jason kept going "Can we talk?"
A/N.: I just don't know, it seemed like a good place to stop.
I was pretty overwhelmed with the response I was getting with this, and I'd like to thank you all! I apologize to Tim's fans, he and I are trying to get along, but we just have different believes (what am I even saying?).
Oh yeah! And just so you guys know, I just recently learned that Mowgli has a W on it. So yeah, sorry. I'm foreing I don't know any better.
Hope everyone enjoys this!