Author's Note: Not gonna lie, this is pretty much a fluffy filler chapter chalk full of potentially slightly-ooc brotherly bonding. I figure they deserve a little breather before everything hits the fan soon. Also trying to go through comic continuity and time lines really should require a phd. So I did the best I could. Somehow I needed to marry everything from just after Jason's death to 'Red Hood - The Lost Days'. So here are a few assumptions I'm making and I realize I'm picking and choosing, but just go with it, m'kay?

1) Jack Drake is still alive. Janet died when she died but Tim's father is still around. So he's still Tim Drake, not Tim Drake-Wayne, and he's a happier person than we see Red Robin being. He's still very close to the rest of the bat family though. Think Tim as he was in his early to mid run as Robin.

2) Barbara is at the height of her career as Oracle. Canonically, the 'Killing Joke' happened just before Jason's death (she was shown in a wheelchair at his funeral) so that's all the same. Cassandra is not in the picture. She still exists in the world but I don't know her well enough to write her well, so it's an extra complication I just can't deal with. Stephanie is still Spoiler, though she probably won't be in the story.

3) Ra's has not yet died and come back all icky. So he has no reason to need Damian's body for anything, though of course he's still very much interested in the product of crossing his and Bruce's blood lines.

While Jason slept, Dick tried to decide on what he was supposed to do next. Call the manor, of course... and say what?

Oh, hey, Bruce. You know how you spend every waking minute beating yourself up over Jason's death? Well, funny story about that... And, oh by the way, Talia? Yeah, she might be dead, but don't worry: she left you a little something to remember her by.

Right. That would go over well. This had to be a conversation done in person, when he could actually bring Jason and Damian out for Bruce to see. It would probably have to be in Gotham, at the manor. Everyone would feel more comfortable there. Still, Dick figured he should at least call to see if Batman was back from the League mission. And there was another reason.

Alfred picked up the phone on the second ring. "Wayne residence."

"Hey, Alfie, it's Dick. You know if Bruce is back yet by chance?"

"Master Bruce was scheduled to return tonight, but he may have been delayed in the city on his way back. He has yet to return to the manor."

Dick sighed. "Alright. Thanks, Al."

"Of course, Master Richard. Is there a message I should relay on your behalf?"

"No, I'll get in touch with him a little later." He hesitated for a moment. Damian was sitting by Jason's bedside, apparently not paying much attention to him, but he lowered his voice just in case. "Al, do you also happen know where Tim is?"

"I have not seen Master Timothy tonight either," came the British-accented reply. "I believe he may be spending some time with his father."

"Oh, okay." He was relieved to hear that. There were only so many things he could handle at once. On the other end of the line, Alfred gave a pointed cough.

"May I ask as to the purpose of all these inquiries?"

"Umm... no reason?"

He could imagine Alfred rolling his eyes. The butler had never actually rolled his eyes, but right now Dick could see it very clearly. "You know you are not a very good liar, Master Richard. If something is the matter..."

"Nope," he said quickly. "Nothing's wrong. Everything's fine. Actually, everything's better than it's been in a long time. I'll talk to you later. Thanks, Alfred."

With that, he hung up. Dick hated to do that to him, but now was not the time. He put away the phone and walked back over to where Damian was sitting with Jason. The scene was touching, but still he placed a hand on the child's shoulder, and he looked up at him with questioning blue eyes. Definitely Bruce's.

"You're probably pretty tired, too." Dick said gently. "I made a spot for you on the couch if you want to take a nap."

But Damian shook his head. "Slept on the plane."

"Okay." He was sure it wasn't enough and that the boy was just staying up to make sure Jason was alright, but Dick knew better than to pick a fight about it. "But why don't we let Jason sleep for a while. Don't worry. He'll be good as new in no time. How about we go into the kitchen, you can tell me all about your adventures, and I make you something to eat?"

Damian peered at him suspiciously. "No M&Ms."

Dick had to bite his lip from laughing thus waking Jason. "You don't like M&Ms?"

"Jason said I should try them, but they made me sick."

"Well, Jason has a cast iron stomach that can digest the kinds of things no mere mortal can. He forgets that sometimes. So no candy, but I can offer you a turkey sandwich, juice or milk, and for dessert, a wide verity of fruit – as long as you're okay choosing between apples and oranges. Sound good?"

Damian nodded, and Dick smiled and held out his hand. The boy hesitated but finally took it, though he noticed he kept staring at it the whole way to the kitchen. When they entered, he hoisted the child to sit on the marble counter and opened the fridge. A part of him was a bit surprised at how easily he not just accepted but welcomed this boy into their odd little family. He was Bruce's son, which made him Dick's brother. It was just that simple. Nothing else – not who his mother was or the fact that he met him for the first time less than a few hours ago – mattered. Dick wondered if he'd been less selfish when he'd been younger, when Bruce had taken Jason in, if he'd been a better brother then, would Jason have suffered less.

Don't think about that, he told himself. What's done is done. He's back. That's all that matters. Just focus on now.

And right now there was a little boy sitting on the kitchen counter who was staring at him intently. Pulling out a juice box and packet of sliced turkey breast, he set it on the counter next to the child and looked at him.

"What?"

"Jason said you hugged too much," Damian explained, "but you haven't tried to."

Dick laughed. "Jason would say that. He didn't get enough hugs when..." He hesitated. "When he was here last time."

Damian cocked his head to the side. "Father didn't hug him?"

Not enough, Dick thought but he didn't want the boy to think his father would do any less than love him. So instead he said, "He'll hug him a lot more now, I promise. And you too. We're all going to hug you both so much, you're going to be sick of it."

The boy sniffed, looking a bit uncomfortable, and wiped at his nose. "I don't think I'll mind."

Dick's heart broke just a little. "Do you want me to hug you?"

Damian shrugged a little, as if it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, but Dick better be careful. He'd be deciding for himself if he liked this new big brother, thank you very much. Carefully, as if approaching a small wounded animal, Dick stepped in front of the child and wrapped his arms around him. Damian seemed unsure of what to do but then slowly returned the hug, resting his cheek against his chest. Dick held him for a few moments before taking a step back enough to look at the child but not really breaking the contact.

"See?" He smiled. "That's not so bad, right?"

"No," the boy admitted. "It was... nice. Someone should definitely hug Jason, too."

Out of the mouth of babes... "I completely agree. In fact, when he wakes up, you have my blessing to practice on him."

They talked some more as Damian ate his sandwich. Dick discovered that the child was incredibly bright and well-educated, neither of which surprised him. He was also starved for emotional attention, which sadly wasn't surprising either. Talia had apparently had her son study with tutors all over the world but had spent little time with him herself. He'd bonded with Jason though, who'd done the best he could over the short period of time and under such stressful circumstances. Considering he had never been the picture of emotional stability himself, Dick could only imagine what it must have taken for Jason. He was fiercely proud of his brother for it.

After he told him about the fire, Dick hugged him again. "I'm really sorry about your mom."

In his arms Damian just gave a small shrug, as if he had become somewhat numb to the loss. Dick didn't know what else to do, so he just held him for a little while longer.

An hour and a half in, the conversation turned into a little game. Damian would ask a question, usually starting with "Jason said...", and then Dick would reply, either confirming, slightly correcting, or adding to whatever he said. Yes, Bruce really liked Sherlock Holmes stories. He also liked Poe, but mostly the mysteries, not so much the horror. No, kids didn't always come from the circus – Dick put his head down on the table and laughed for a solid minute after that one – but this one did.

"After everything calms down a little, I'll take you." He promised. "Exclusive backstage pass and everything. The animals, the rides, the acrobats, the clowns..."

Damian seemed to think about it. "Can Jason come?"

"If he wants to. We might have to skip the clowns then, though."

"Why?" the boy looked puzzled.

Despite being put in an awkward position, he was glad that Talia had skipped telling her son about the gory details of his brother's death. Dick looked up when the brother in question entered the kitchen, effectively saving him from having to answer. Jason still looked far too pale, but he was walking under his own power which was good. Still, the bandages wrapped around his bare torso and shoulder looked like they would have to be changed soon. Dick gave him an disapproving look.

"You should be resting. Go back to bed."

Jason flipped him the bird. "Ask me nicely."

"Jay, I'm serious. Did you miss the part where you were shot and stabbed a few hours ago?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't killed and look how I bounced back from that." He winked at Damian and slid onto a bar stool next to the boy. "You got anything around here to drink?"

"Sure." Dick said flatly. "Water, juice, or milk? Take your pick."

"What? No vodka? Tequila? Not even a beer? Jeez, and here I thought you might've taken that stick out of your ass after all these years."

"Okay, a) you don't have to go out of your way to use bad language in front of our little brother." Dick gave him his best sweet patronizing smile. "And b) even if I had any of the afore mentioned drinks, you're under age, too."

"And of course you have to be the responsible one," Jason rolled his eyes and elbowed Damian slightly. "He hasn't gotten on your nerves yet, has he, kid? 'Cause I'm about ready to make a run for it."

It was obviously a joke, but Damian quickly shook his head as if he really was afraid Jason might make good on the threat. "No, I like Dick. He's going to take me to the circus."

"Aww, ain't that cute?" Jason cooed. "Just make sure he doesn't leave you there."

"I would never do that," Dick quickly assured the child who turned wide blue eyes on him in question. "And while we're there I can show you a few tricks on the trapeze."

Jason raised a brow over the cup of he'd just handed to him. "Is there a lifetime membership pass? They'll just let you waltz in there and hijack the swings?"

"Oh, they should," Dick gave a casual shrug. "I own the place."

It was worth it just to see the look on Jason's face. His brother stared at him, his eyes almost as wide as Damian's. The child looked like he might actually squeal in delight – Dick would have given up a hefty chunk of his trust fund to see someone related to Bruce squeal – while Jason's jaw slacked a little.

"You... own Haley's circus?" He finally managed. "Since when!"

Since around when Tim came into the picture, Dick thought painfully. He'd met the now-Robin, at the time not even out of boyhood, while visiting the place he'd grown up. Tim had ended up helping with a case before shocking him with the knowledge that he knew all of their secret identities. He'd wanted him to come back to Gotham and be Robin again to help balance Batman who had become reckless and violent after the loss of Jason. Dick could never be the boy wonder again, but he'd encouraged Tim, guided him. In the end it had all worked out... except that Jason was back now.

"They fell on really hard times a few years ago," he said simply. "I just helped out."

"Yeah, no kidding." Jason looked impressed. "I was about to ask if that was a birthday present from Bruce. 'Cause in that case I'd have asked for a Batmobile for my next one. Just to go with the tires."

"You can still ask. I'm pretty sure he'd bring you the moon on a silver plater now if he could."

"Guess nothing says 'guilt trip' like your dead kid coming back to life."

An awkward silence fell across the kitchen, and Dick had no idea how to break it. Jason often did this, he remembered. Mocked things that hurt him to pretend that they didn't, to make them easier to bare. He'd been so much more fragile than either Dick or Bruce were ever able to see until it was too late.

The quiet was interrupted by Damian shifting in his seat slightly as he reached up and unconsciously rubbed at his eyes. Jason sighed and got up, tapping the child on the back lightly to get his attention.

"Alright, it's beyond past your bed time, kiddo."

"It's almost light out," Damian complained half-heartedly.

"Yup, just about the time all good little bat boys should be going off to sleep. Go on. I know Dick's made a really comfy nest on the couch for you."

The acrobat was both amused and fairly impressed to see that Damian trotted off towards the living room with barely an audible grumble, thus solidifying his suspicion that no matter how much he bribed the boy with hugs or tales from the circus, for now there was still only one brother he'd listen to. That was okay with Dick; from where he stood, it looked like being responsible for the child had done good things for Jason as well.

"My turn to play the big brother card." He smiled at the young man when the boy was out of earshot. "Let's get those bandages changed, and then you really should rest."

"Yeah, fine. Whatever makes you feel better," Jason rolled his eyes, but let himself be lead into the bathroom. As Dick worked on cleaning the blood and redoing the bandages, he was silent for a while before finally quietly asking. "Did you call home?"

"Yeah," Dick nodded but didn't take his eyes of what he was doing. "Bruce's been on a League mission for the past week. He should've been back tonight, but Alfred said he hasn't flown in yet. Don't worry, nothing's wrong," he assured Jason quickly, "I heard they all made it without issue. He probably got held up in Gotham on his way back. You know how he is: has to check up on everything."

Jason smirked. "Sounds like he hasn't changed."

If only, Dick thought painfully. Bruce had been better before Jason's death. Happier, healthier, more emotionally stable. Tim had given him some of that back, but not everything. One didn't just replace a lost child. Dick hoped Jason would understand that when the time finally came.

"I figured," he said slowly, "it's better for him to see you in person. It's not exactly the kind of thing I want to relay through Alfred."

"God, no. You'd probably give 'em both heart attacks. How is Al?"

Dick smiled. "He's Alfred. British stoicism and all that. When he sees you, the first question out of his mouth will probably be what you want for dinner."