Author's Note: Thank you to Wombo Combi (*insert evil laughter here*), soccernin19 (Thank you! I'm really glad you're liking the way I write the interaction between the boys!), MaikoYuukamiMegumi (Heehee! Pretty much everyone was worrying about someone last chapter.), and IndiaMoore for reviewing the last chapter! I would have had this chapter up early this afternoon but the site went down on me and then I had to go work. I own nothing but enjoy!
Bats squeaked curiously from the ceiling of the Batcave as Nightwing guided his little brother into the worn computer chair in front of the massive computer. "We're in and safe," Dick informed Barbara over the comm before removing it and placing it on a table. Damian's breathing was a painful sounding rasp that Dick had been hearing in his ear as he'd carried the boy to safety. Alfred emerged from the shadows as if he'd simply materialized out of thin air and it was proof of how completely out of it the young boy was when he jumped. Dick removed the boy's sweatshirt and shirt, revealing ugly black bruises spreading across the lower right side of his ribcage. There was also bruising across Damian's throat and a large hand print encircled his left wrist. There had been worse injuries caused by fighting Bane but the results still weren't pretty.
"I'll fetch a strong painkiller," Alfred reassured Dick, resting a gentle hand on the young man's shoulder for a moment before bustling off towards the medical supplies. Dick dug for the solvent and sprayed it on, carefully peeling the mask away from his face. Then he repeated the procedure with Damian, at least the boy had thought far enough ahead to wear one, and took a look at tired green eyes. The boy stared back for a moment before he glanced down, ashamed.
"How bad is the pain?" the older boy asked gently. "On a scale of one to ten." Damian considered the question for a moment and then carefully held up eight fingers. "Is that an underestimation?" He got a one shoulder shrug in response and guessed it was probably fairly close. Alfred silently handed over a pill bottle and Dick unscrewed it, removing one and handing it to the boy. Damian swallowed without water but refused to meet Dick's eyes. Alfred left again, probably to fetch gauze to tape up the small boy's ribs and a couple ice packs. "That was a stupid thing to do," Dick told his younger brother. Damian had too much will to squirm but his cheeks flushed slightly and his hands trembled a little. Dick took both small hands between his own, trying to soothe the boy. "Why did you go out?"
"I needed to do something," came the emotionless reply. "And I am capable of defending myself."
"Normally," Dick agreed. "But not today." Damian's head rose and his green eyes flashed for a moment but Alfred stalled the conversation by returning with gauze, medical tape, and two ice packs. Together the old butler and the Wayne heir wrapped the boy's ribs firmly, though Dick thought from a quick investigation that they were bruised rather than broken. Then Alfred shooed Dick away to change out of costume as he checked the child's wrist and throat.
Dick changed in record time and returned to snatch Damian up, the tired child resting his head against his older brother's shoulder. Alfred followed them into the manor, carrying the ice packs, and the two of them carefully settled Damian in his own bed, ice beginning to work on the bruises around his throat and wrist. Alfred then left, probably to prepare for the eventually return of Batman, Robin, Green Arrow, and Arsenal. Dick settled in the chair next to his younger brother's bed, studying the boy. "You shouldn't have gone out," he said at last. "You've been angry and upset about something lately which affected your performance against Bane. You put not only yourself but the rest of your family in danger due to your rash actions." He hesitated a moment, struggling to ascertain the boy's mood. Those normally iced over green eyes were filled with pain and something Dick guessed was shame. "Please don't do it again," he murmured, smoothing a hand through Damian's dark hair. "You scared me."
"I will endeavor not to do so in the future," Damian replied primly and Dick smiled at the boy, leaning over to kiss him on the forehead. The older boy ignored the younger's disgruntled scowl and turned to leave the room. "Grayson," Damian called after him and Dick hesitated. The boy motioned him closer. "Would you-?" He motioned vaguely toward a pad of paper and a pencil sitting on the nightstand and Dick handed them over, watching curiously as Damian scribbled on it.
"What's this?" he asked as the boy handed it over.
"The encryption," the boy rasped. Dick's eyes widened in realization. He gently squeezed Damian's shoulder before leaving the room, shutting the door softly behind him. Pad of the paper in hand, he descended into the Batcave.
Finding Scarecrow had been a no go. After receiving his sudden freedom from Arkham, he had vanished like smoke dissipating in a strong wind. They had searched fruitlessly, Oracle scanning every security camera in existence in Gotham while they worked, but finally gave up a couple hours before sunrise. Now Jason stepped out of the Batmobile, thoroughly exhausted. He had expected Dick to be asleep by this time so he almost jumped completely out of the Batman uniform when he saw his older brother sitting at the computer. The blank look on Dick's face didn't bode well for anyone. "Uh-oh," Roy muttered from Jason's shoulder, eyes fixed on Dick.
"Your phone rang about twelve times while you were gone," Dick commented, voice emotionless.
Roy crossed to pick up the phone, unlocked it, and then froze. "Crap," he muttered and marched off, already dialing his voicemail. Jason shooed Oliver away as well and crossed the room to stand next to Dick, removing the cowl as he went.
"What happened?" he questioned.
"Damian gave me the encryption," came the reply, Dick motioning with his head towards a pad of paper. Jason glanced at it for a moment and then turned expectantly towards his older brother.
"Did you watch it then?" In response, Dick pressed play.
The Bruce on the screen was dressed in the Batman uniform minus the cowl, just as he had been in Dick's video. His eyes were distant and when he began his tone was terribly blank and professional, as if recording something for Damian was a chore rather than giving his last words. "Damian, if you are seeing this then I am dead and Talia has not yet returned to collect you." Jason winced at the wording, silently cursing Bruce for being an emotionally stunted jerk, but Dick's face was impassive, a sure sign that the worst was yet to come. "If so, there's something I need to tell you. You are not my son." Jason flinched and Dick gave off a little twitch despite the fact that he'd probably heard the message close to a hundred times in the hours he'd been in the cave all by himself.
"Fourteen years ago," Bruce continued. "An organization calling themselves the Light created a clone of my ward at the time, Richard Grayson. The clone was de-aged after four years during one of the Light's operations and I gave him over to Talia al'Ghul to raise. That clone was you. I am sorry for having to deceive you this way." The recording simply cut off there, as if Bruce thought it was all he needed to say. Jason suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to punch the dead man in the face hard. Miniature demon or not, Damian deserved better than this.
"This is why he was so upset," Dick said softly, voice tired.
"No kidding," Jason muttered, once again finding himself disgusted with Bruce. The message began to play again in the background. Dick evidently had it on a loop. "I only have one question."
"Yeah?" Dick asked, wary and tired.
"You have a clone?"
"It's kind of a long story."
"Well," Jason said, sitting down on the edge of the table. "Since it's obvious that you're not going to sleep any time soon, I'd say we have time."
"Roy Harper if you do not call me back within the next twenty minutes I swear to whatever deity you pray to that I will track you down and kill you." Roy held the phone away from his ear, cringing slightly at the furious tone of the most recent voicemail. He hadn't talked to Jade in a month, though to be fair after their last argument he hadn't been sure she'd ever want to talk to him again, and he wasn't sure he'd ever heard her this angry. He dialed the correct number with trepidation, waiting nervously for his girlfriend to pick up the phone. "Roy Harper this had better be you," Jade growled when she picked up halfway through the second ring.
"Hey sweetheart," Roy replied nervously and got an angry snarl in response.
"Gotham, Roy?" she snapped at him. "Gotham?"
"Oracle called and-"
"I don't care," Jade snarled at him. "You are a moron and you are going to get yourself killed."
"Just to be clear," Roy said, voice still wary. "Are you objecting to me being in Gotham or the fact that I didn't tell you?" There was a long moment of silence during which the archer wondered if he'd finally said the thing that would made the former assassin snap.
"I was worried about you," Jade admitted at last. "Gotham is the kind of place that gets people killed."
"I'll be careful Jade. I promise," Roy told her.
"You'd better," she threatened in response."Or I'll track down your corpse and bring you back to life so I can kill you myself. And you will be calling me every morning until you leave Gotham."
"Yes ma'am," was Roy's swift reply. It was the only correct thing to say.