When Tim met Damian (an alternative version)…
Damian: *spots Tim sleeping by the Batcomputer* -Tt-
Damian: *nudges him* Wake up.
Tim: *wide-eyed and looking around the Batcave in a panic*
Tim: *wiping slobber off his face* Who in the world are you?
Damian: I’m your new brother.
Tim: Are you from the orphanage or do I really not undersand how babies are born?
~ · ~ · ~ · ~ · ~ · ~
But you do understand how Robins work, right?
Mornings at the Batcave…
Tim: *downing a cup of espresso* Okay, we all know why we’re here, right?
Dick: *still in just boxer shorts, yawning and shaking his head*
Jason: *groans* No. Why?
Tim: To fight Damian, the bully. That tiny tween has been tormenting all of us for years, and I for one am sick of it! I can’t promise you victory. I can’t promise you good times. But the one thing I do know –
Dick and Jason: *head back to the Manor*
Tim: Whoa! Whoa! I promise you victory! I promise you good times!
When you ask your adoptive son how you can make up for all those lost years and he eagerly pulls out the new “Batman: Arkham Knight” game…
Jason: In the hunky robotic suit with adorable pointy ears, with a record of 48 wins and no losses, the undisputed champ of this Manor, the amazeballs Jason Todd! *whistles and cheers*
Bruce: Hn.
Jason: And in the black, leather BatSpanx, with a record of zero wins and 48 defeats – oh, correction, humiliating defeats, all of them by –
Bruce: Must you do this every time?
~ · ~ · ~ · ~ · ~ · ~
That he must, Bats. That he must.
Unpacking at the new safe house…
Jason: *holding an old, tattered photo in his hands*
Roy: *catches a glimpse of what looks like green spandex briefs when light briefly hits the photo*
Jason: Will you swear not to let another living soul get a copy of this photo?
Roy: *grabby hands* Okay!
Jason: Cross your heart and hope to die?
Roy: Yep!
Jason: Stick a needle in your eye?
Roy: Uh-huh!
Jason: Jam a dagger in your thigh?
Roy: Yeeeeees!
Jason: Eat a horse manure pie?
Roy: *thinks for a second* Sure!
Teaching your older brother an ancient form of meditation sacred to a line of assassins be like…
Damian: I want you to shut off the logical part of your mind.
Jason: Okay.
Damian: Embrace nothingness.
Jason: You got it.
Damian: Become like an uncarved stone.
Jason: Done.
Damian: Todd! You’re just pretending to know what I’m talking about!
Jason: True.
Damian: -Tt- It’s very frustrating!
Jason: I’ll bet.
Family Patrol Night…
Batman: *setting up surveillance equipment on the rooftop*
Robin: *watching the traffic down below while perched atop a gargoyle*
Nightwing: *balancing on the ledge (y’know, upside-down and on one hand, the yoosh)*
Red Robin: Jay, I have a riddle for you. What’s the sound of one hand clapping?
Red Hood: Piece of cake. *opens and closes his fist quickly, which makes a faint sound*
Red Robin: No, man. It’s a 3000-year-old riddle with no answer. It’s supposed to clear your mind of conscious thought.
Red Hood: No answer? Timmy, listen up. *quickly opens and closes his fist again*
Batman: Hn. *smirks*
Nightwing: *giggles and almost loses his balance*
Robin: -Tt-
Tim: *whispering* What’s your hurry?
Jason: *grabbing his leather jacket and kicking three-day-old garbage underneath the sofa* This place is depressing.
Dick: *yelling from the kitchen* Hey! I live here!
Jason: *yelling back* And I’m sure it’s a blast once you get used to it!
~ · ~ · ~ · ~ · ~ · ~
Maybe if you cleaned up once in a while before these family visits, Nightwing…
Batman: *crouching on the ground in pain as Bane towers over him* Think you’ve got guts?
Batman: *wipes blood off his mouth* Try raising my sons!
In which the confusion on Bane’s face gives Batman a window of opportunity to take the hulking villain down.
Jason: Hey, brat, do you have to sit so close to the TV? Back up or it’ll hurt your eyes.
Damian: It will not.
Jason: *holding his fist up* Oh, yes, it will.
Damian: *slowly turns his head away from the TV to glare at his older brother*
~ · ~ · ~ · ~ · ~ · ~
Narrator’s Voice: Oh, something hurt indeed. And someone learned a valuable lesson that afternoon.
Mornings at the Manor…
Tim and Damian: *bickering at the breakfast table*
Bruce: Quiet, you two! If I hear one more word, Tim doesn’t get to drink coffee and Damian doesn’t get to go on patrol.
Tim: Bruce!
Damian: Father!
Bruce: Not. One. Word.
Tim and Damian: *start insulting each other by lightly tapping spoons and banging salt and pepper shakers*
Bruce: I thought I told you two to knock it off.
Tim: We didn’t say anything!
Damian: Not one word!
Bruce: Well, no Morse code either.
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