Author's Note: Thank you to soccernin19 (Yes! I'm really glad to hear that it wasn't the twist you expected!) and IndiaMoore for reviewing the last chapter! I own nothing.
Damian fell asleep with his head resting against Jason's shoulder as the Batmobile headed for the Cave. It had been a long night of patrolling but they had discovered a couple good leads on the whereabouts of Scarecrow. Dick's motorcycle rumbled in to park next to the massive black vehicle as Jason slid out of the driver's seat. "Is he still out?"
"Yeah," Jason confirmed, opening the passenger door and scooping up his baby brother. "Poor kid's exhausted."
"Think there's pajamas in his room?" Dick asked, already heading for the changing rooms.
"Get changed and you can find out," Jason replied since he couldn't shrug without disturbing Damian. He managed to remove the cowl of the Batsuit with one hand and settled down carefully in the rolling chair as Dick vanished from sight. Damian twitched then, whimpering softly. Jason found himself hushing the boy, rubbing gentle circles between his shoulder blades and murmuring to him softly. After a moment Damian murmured, nuzzling his head against his older brother's shoulder before drifting into a more peaceful sleep.
To be completely honest, Jason Todd hadn't really ever wanted siblings. His relationship with Dick had always been rocky at best, mostly because of a combination of Bruce's terrible communication skills, Jason's bad jealousy, and Dick's attitude at the time. Tim had always been the Replacement, the one who'd taken his spot and made Jason feel as if he was disposable. Jason still wasn't sure he liked the kid but he could at least tolerate Tim now. Damian was different. The boy had wormed his way into Jason's heart with his prickly attitude and unusual morals. His silence and absence after Bruce's message had worried the older boy. Furthermore, having Damian by his side as Robin instead of Tim just felt right.
The boy whimpered again, whole body tensing. Jason tried to soothe Damian like he had before but the nightmare had already sank its claws into him. Damian let out a little sob and tried to nestle closer to Jason. "Aww," Dick cooed at the sight. Jason shot an irritated glare at his older brother but didn't stop trying to calm Damian. "Here," Dick said, holding out his arms to take their baby brother. "You need to get changed before Alfie will let us upstairs."
"Quite right Master Dick." Jason startled at Alfred's voice, Damian letting out a childish whine in the older boy's ear at the unexpected movement and clinging tighter for a moment before relaxing slightly. "Miss Morse dropped off Master Damian's things several hours ago. I have already sorted them and placed them where they belong in his room. I've also taken the liberty of setting out a pair of pajamas for him."
"You're the best Alfie," Dick said, gently easing Damian from Jason's arms. "Go get changed Jay-Jay."
"Only if you promise never to call me that again," Jason replied. Dick grinned, wide and unrepentant, and headed for the stairs.
"Shall I fetch some ice for your jaw Master Jason?" Alfred questioned and when the young man looked over, the old butler's eyes were sparkling. Jason groaned and dropped his head into his hands but he was grinning.
Before his venture into criminal activity, Doctor Jonathan Crane had been a brilliant and well paid employee of the city of Gotham. Now he was insane but no less clever. He had lain low during the Joker's rampage, not eager to be forced into an alliance with the mad man. Other villains of Gotham Crane would gladly work with but the Joker was far too insane and destructive for the former doctor's taste. Now he was entering a dark apartment building he had marked a long time ago as a potential safe house. It would be his home for the present while his lackeys brewed up the latest batch of fear gas but now, looking into the room, he was beginning to regret the decision. After all, having people know where you were staying was risky but having Deathstroke the Terminator waiting for you when you arrived could be deadly.
Crane hesitated in the doorway, unsure whether it would do him any good to call for help. Deathstroke lounged on a tilted back chair with his feet on the table, a single grey eye fixed on Scarecrow. "Can I help you?" the doctor questioned at last, glad that his voice did not waver. When faced with a person such as Deathstroke he thought it best to show as little of his unease as possible. He reached into his pocket and wrapped his hand around his last canister of fear gas, comforting himself with the knowledge that even infamous mercenaries had fears. He didn't know it but at that exact moment the mercenary in question was smirking at Crane's bravado.
"I need you to do something for me," Slade Wilson said. His voice was the sinister chill that raced up someone's spine when they knew they were about to die. Crane swallowed hard.
"What exactly do you require from me?" Crane demanded, voice wavering slightly.
"I want you to call out the Bat," came the cool reply. "And while he is busy chasing you I can do my job mostly unhindered."
"And why," Crane asked sharply, bristling slightly at the insinuation that he would do as he was told like he was nothing more than a whimpering babe, "would I do that?"
Deathstroke stood then, a single fluid motion that brought to mind large jungle cats silently stalking their already doomed prey. The mercenary loomed over the smaller man, something sinister gleaming in his single eye. Then he leaned down to speak directly in Crane's ear. "Because," he said, voice a low hiss. "You want to live." Jonathan Crane shuddered all over and nodded.
Dick carried his younger brother upstairs to the correct bedroom and nudged open the door with his foot, glad that Alfred hadn't pulled it completely closed. He carefully slipped Damian into pajamas but when he moved to slide the younger boy under the covers and leave, Damian clung tightly. Dick glanced down and found sleepy green eyes fixed on him. "Stay?" the boy pleaded, flushing a little. Dick smiled and nodded, ruffling the small boy's hair. Damian grumbled but relaxed his grip enough that Dick could slip out of his jeans and get settled on the bed. Then the boy was clinging tightly again, head pressed against Dick's chest. "Want to talk?" Dick asked but Damian's head was already shaking before he finished speaking.
They lay in silence, Damian's body slowly relaxing but his grip never faltering. Dick was reminded of the night they'd received the terrible news that Bruce had been killed and a sick and distraught Damian had clung tightly to him. The sound of Jason stomping down the hall made the small boy flinch and nestle closer. The door opened and Dick tilted his head back so he could see Jason arch his eyebrows. He shrugged slightly in response. Jason shut the door softly and then crossed the room to settle in the chair still resting by the bed. "So what's wrong?" he asked. Damian shook his head again and Jason sighed. "We can't help you if you won't tell us what's wrong."
"Please Dami," Dick added and the boy let out a shuddering sigh.
"The programming cannot be removed," Damian said at last and Dick could feel his hands clenching into fists through the fabric of his shirt. "When M'gann tried she discovered a shut down phrase embedded in my subconscious that tried to eliminate me." Dick sucked in a shocked breath and Jason stiffened.
"Oh Damian," Dick breathed, lifted a hand to stroke it gently through his baby brother's hair. The boy stiffened for a moment before letting out a little sob, tears beginning to dampen Dick's shirt. "It's okay," Dick told him, voice gentle. "Everything's going to be okay." He silently prayed to any higher being that might be listening that he wasn't lying.