It had been roughly six hours. Tim had tried to do damage control, promised the people that the Teen Titans would look into this, and that Batman and Robin were on it. Bruce watched from where he had been placed, not allowed anywhere near the hospital out-of-cowl. Here, he was just Bruce Wayne, not Batman. After Tim's impromptu speech, Bruce cornered him, demanded to know where Damian was. Tim had confirmed that he had retrieved Damian from the building, and had sent him off to the Tower for his recovery and for T, and Damian to bond. Bruce, in turn, had told him that Kori flew Dick out of the hospital long before it truly became a problem.

Tim hated using the bonding excuse, but Dick used it all the time, and it always worked. Bruce looked doubtful, but let it go. Tim assured Bruce that he would return Damian when he got sick of the kid, but Bruce walked away with an accepted answer, and a silent promise to not bust down the Tower's door to find the Demon Brat.

Tim watched him go, before running to his jet and taking off towards the Tower. He was sure that Kon would have safely deposited Damian, and he could only hope with a lump in his throat. A traitorous voice in his head asked him why he was helping a Winged.

Tim told it to shut up.

Six hours had passed - one on damage control and dealing with Bruce, another five on transportation to the Tower. When Tim arrived, the computer beeped and the sound echoed through the empty hallways. He knew where everyone was. Raven and Beast Boy were out at a festival, today being their day off. Kori was with Dick. Kid Flash had a mission with the Speedsters. Kon and Tim were the only ones here. Jon, Tim, and Damian. Tim walked into the medbay, concern etched on his face. He opened the door, letting himself in as he spied the kryptonian sitting in a chair beside the bed he had clearly laid Damian into. Tim remembered the hours painstakingly teaching the meta how to set up heart monitors, IV kits, how to draw blood. Kon had an oxygen mask on Damian's face, with a heart monitor and IV full of fluifs inserted into his arm all set up. Tim raised an eyebrow at the mask and glanced over at K.

"He looked like he was struggling for breath." Kon shrugged. Tim nodded, grabbing another chair and sitting down, the twitch in Damian's right pinky finger giving him away as awake. Kon had Damian propped up on a foam pillow, with silky blue sheets. The medbay was narrow, with twelve beds along the wall, each separated by a curtain. Different machines were scattered around the bed, IVs in a corner, with three defibrillators on the walls.

"I know you're awake, Damian. I'm sorry for touching your back." Tim approached him like a wilf animal, who was ready to lash out and run. "We want to help you. It is only Superboy and I her. No one else. Batman, Nightwing, Superman… no one knows but us. I promise. We aren't going to send you to Arkham. And if somehow you do end up there, I promise you can have my head after we rescue you."

One blue eye peeked open to glance at him, followed by the other.

"I read," Tim continued, reaching down to gently touch the boy's hand. When Damian didn't flinch, Tim entwined their fingers together, squeezing the boy's hand slightly. "That Winged have bigger hearts, bigger lungs. They need more oxygen. Do you want us to keep the oxygen mask on?"

Tim received a small nod in response.

"Okay, we'll keep the oxygen mask on. Are you hungry?" a nod. "Thirsty?" another nod. "Kon, could you go get Damian some food, please? No meat." Tim requested, pleading with Kon. The meta nodded silently and left for the kitchen. Tim watched Damian inhale and exhale. "I want you to understand," Tim began. "That I'm not going to tell Batman. Damian, I want to help you." Tim gave the boy's hand a reassuring squeeze, Damian's tiny hand limp in Tim's own. "You're Winged. I know that you saved me, and even if you hadn't, I still would have done this. I can help. I want to help. So does Kon."

Damian's left hand went to the oxygen mask, to bring it away from his face, and Tim helped him pull the contraption off. Tim helped Damian sit up some more, allowing his back to be supported by the obscene amount of pillows Kon had piled on and around the bed.

"Is it more comfortable to have your wings out?" Tim asked. After seeing the panicked look on Damian's face, Tim quickly backtracked. "I'm in control of the camera systems. They're all disabled and there are no cameras in the room currently. You can check if you want."

Damian nodded. "Thank you." the voice took Tim by surprise - he was usd to Damian sounding arrogant, an undertone of cruelty in every phrase, a slight sarcastic lilt to his voice. Damian's voice had changed… completely. It was slightly higher, barely accented, and sincere. It caught Tim off guard, if he was to be honest with himself. Damian's personality, his voice… was it all a ruse for fear they'd find him out? Something struck Tim's heart, and it was the farthest thing from anger. Damian started holding Tim's hand back as Tim rubbed comfortingly with his thumb. The skin or Damian's back from the tattoos started to glow blue, releasing the humerus bone first, quickly followed by the rest of the skeleton wing. Before Tim could comment, skin stitched itself together over the bone, grey and white feathers sprouting from the skin. Within a few moments, his wings were whole.

Damian let them curl up, and stretch. He could feel how his back muscles had degenerated while he was keeping them in tattoo form. Right now, they were too sore to fly, but perhaps in a few days he could begin gliding. It would take weeks for him to be able to take off from the ground.

Tim watched Damian, still holding his little brother's hand. "Damian," he spoke, and the nine year old turned to him. "Is there any etiquette I need to know?"

"First, please don't touch my wings." Damian murmured, and Tim nodded firmly. "Or my back at all, really. Uh, we don't really eat meat, uhm."

"It's alright." Tim smiled at him. "Understood on the wings." just then, Kon walked back in, containers of fruit, bread, vegetables, yogurt, and the scrambled eggs that Kori had pout in the fridge in his arms, along with two jugs full of water and orange jude respectively.

"I didn't know what you liked, so I just brought a lot of it." Kon explained, hooking his ankle around the leg of the bed beside them to use as a makeshift table. When the food was all settled, Tim passed some over to Damian, and glanced over at Kon as the boy ate.

"Damian…" Kon began hesitantly. "Tim told me that Winged have powers. Do… do you?" Kon asked. Tim grinned at that. His family didn't know, but Kon and Tim had been dancing around the idea of making their already romantic relationship official. Kon, however, had been worried that the Bats wouldn't accept him. Tim knew for a fact that Dick and Steph had been shipping "Kim" for months, Jason wouldn't care, Bruce would object, and Alfred and Damian were unknowns. But Kon wanted to get all of them on their side, so here Kon was the big, strong, clone of Superman himself, trying to get into the good graces of a kid not even half his size with a tendency for sharp things.

Oh, the things Kon would do for Tim. Tim had even caught him doing chores for Alfred.

"Yes." Damian swallowed his bite of egg-and-toast sandwich that Kon had helped him put together, and went to answer. "I am able to mimic any voice."

Kon raised an eyebrow. "Batman."

Damian cleared his throat dramatically, before erupting into "I am the night." with a low, gravelly voice that sounded exactly like Bruce. Tim couldn't stop the laugh bubbling up in his throat. He snickered at the voice itself, then erupted into belly-shaking laughter at Kon's shocked face. When Tim had wiped the tears from his eyes, he noticed that Damian's eyes were glowing a bright blue.

"Ah." Tim remarked. "Is that what happens when you use your power?" Damian nodded in response to the question. Tim sobered up, remembering the weird votice in his head earlier that day.

"Hey Damian, do you know what… or who, I guess, created that tornado? It wasn't natural, not at all. And when I considered the tornado itself being sentient, it talked to me. Said 'No, but I am.''

Damian put his sandwich down.

"That is the Wind." he explained. "The first Winged, the creator of all the drafts that carry our wings. She created us. She loves us. But… one of the doctors at that hospital, she was also Sa Winged. She told me that the Wind wanted to destroy Gotham to make up for all the damaged caused to her children. She's angry, and her consciousness is stirring."

Tim nodded, thoughtful. "Any chance of her disregarding that? Leaving the city alone, changing her mind?"

"Minimal, unless Arkham burns, the ban is lifted, and Batman no longer targets us, solely."

Tim nodded again, glancing at Kon. "This doctor.. Are you able to tell us her name?"

"...I think so. If it doesn't get out."

"We're keeping your secret." Kon smiled, reminding the boy.

Hesitantly, Damian smiled back. "Her name is Leslie Thompkins. Did she get out of the hospital okay?"

"Yes. She and Dick both escaped - but there were fifteen casualties, all human." Tim said. "Mostly spectators, but several patients were killed as well. Leslie Thompkins.. I think she's one of Alfie's friends. She's in his contact book." at the look Kon gave him, Tim shrugged. "What? I like to know these things."

Kon rolled his eyes at Tim's antics, smiling slightly as Tim chuckled They made light banter as Damian finished his breakfast, Kon eyeing the boy gently. He had x-rayed the child at least seven times, looking for injuries or sickness. He wanted to help Damian now, and not just because he was Tim's little brother. Damian… seemed like a nice kid.

Kon had been programmed by CADMUS to know of the Winged and see them as an asset. But Superman, the League, the majority of this world… it wanted him to believe otherwise. They wanted to see the Winged as evil, unjust beings. When Kon had asked Superman why, the man had said the Winged were powerful and dangerous, and the ones that unnecessarily killed humans were to be stopped. Superman had explained that this planet belonged to humans, and that the Winged could be detrimental to peace on the planet. Superman explained that the League interfered in both human and Winged business - he claimed they saved both, but Kon knew that some of the League members would not save the Winged. Kon had seen Superman do it.

Batman was a different story. He was the most anti-Winged of any League member, sending all those he caught to correctional facilities in Gotham to try to force them to become human. It only created insanity, breeding villains. Kon knew that, and he knew that Superman would too. Superman should understand. But he didn't interfere. Kon didn't get it, not at all.

Tim was the first to break the silence.

"So," he said, "Damian, this is just a suggestion, but maybe we could call Alfie? Go to him, get him to call Leslie. We should put him in the loop, he's going to find out eventually." Tim chuckled slightly, but soon shut up at Kon's protective glare, the Kryptonian moving instinctively to cover Damian from Tim's line of sight. "I mean…" Tim backtracked, cursing himself. "It would help, if Alfie knew. Of course, Damian, if you don't want to tell him-"

"I'm horrible at this." Damian groaned. "I've only been in Gotham for a few weeks, and already, I'm out to three, soon to be four people."

Kon chuckled at that. "Do you want to call Alfred, Damian?" Damian nodded in response and went to get up. All of a sudden, both Kryptonian and human were frozen as the boy's wings flared out to their full wingspan. They were enormous. They fluttered to help with Damian's balance as he stepped more elegantly than ever before. As soon as he was up, he pulled the frontal bones together at the point, folding his wings up and allowing the longest feathers to drape on the ground. He turned and looked at them both expectantly, smiling softly.

"I can't really fly on my own yet." he admitted. "Because of the high demand for nutrients I really haven't been getting, my body had to get rid of the muscle mass on my back. So at this point, just lifting my wings burns." there was a sad smile on his face as he said this. Kon and Tim exchanged glances, blinking at each other, unsure of what to say. "Can we call Goliath?" Damian asked, pressing his pointer fingers together.

"Yeah. While you do that, I'll call and warn Alfred." Tim said, moving away and grabbing his phone, dialing the number.

"Alfie?"

"Yes, Master Timothy?"

"Can you call a doctor by the name of Leslie Thompkins and then make sure Bruce is out of the manor when we arrived at around six pm?"

"Leslie Thompkins?" Alfred's voice hinged on sharp and dangerous. "May I ask why, Master Timothy?"

Tim took a breath. "Damian's a Winged and we need someone who can help him with diet, exercise, and general ways to hide."

There was silence, before a choked breath on the other end.

"Oh my…" Alfred's voice seemed… proud. "Well. I shall do as you request, Master Timothy. Miss Thompkins will be here, and Bruce will not. I will looking forward to your arrival." Alfred hung up the phone, and Tim turned around to go back into the medbay…

Only to get greeted by a giant red face, an enormous tongue coated with saliva heading straight for his face, and a huge hole in the side of the Tower.

"What the HELL!" Tim screeched, his voice going up an octave as Goliath swiped his tongue up Tim's body.