Chapter Text
Tuesday, 11:49 P.M.
Damian swung his legs in the empty space below him, running his fingers across the edge of the roof. He’d been there for a while now— his father was arguing ethics with the commissioner again. Since that was nothing new, Damian had zoned out after the first ten minutes. He had bigger things to think about.
Like his plans for tonight. The words “I need a favor” didn’t come out of Drake’s mouth very often, Damian had noticed, so he was taking the request very seriously. He had everything worked out, all the way down to a third backup plan. It was going to be fine.
Behind him, the grownups were still going strong— it was time to move. Damian pulled out his phone and began scrolling through his messages, searching for a group he hadn’t used in months: “Bat Brethren.” Obviously, the name had been Grayson’s idea— he’d created the group as a way for the four of them to talk around Bruce. It wasn’t used much, now that Grayson wasn’t around.
Damian figured they would need it tonight. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure his father was still busy, then typed out a message.
I can give you three hours.
After that, Drake would be on his own. It should be enough, as far as Damian could tell. Drake hadn’t been terribly specific about his mission goals. He settled back onto his roof and waited for a response.
Jason Todd: Three hours for…?
Jason Todd: What the hell is going on?
Well that was a problem. Damian frowned down at his screen— Todd was supposed to know about this. Drake’s plan wouldn’t work without him.
Drake. Didn’t you tell him?
Tim Drake: Didn’t get around to it, sorry.
Tim Drake: We need your help with something.
Jason Todd: With what
Damian looked up from his phone, temporarily distracted by the conversation behind him, which had shifted in his direction.
“How old is he?” Commissioner Gordon demanded, then barreled on without waiting for an answer. “I don’t care how well trained he is— and incidentally, I wouldn’t mind knowing how he got like that—”
“I told you, he’s fine.”
“Did he or did he not literally die?”
Damian twisted around to face the commissioner. “I’m fine.”
“You were dead!”
“But I’m fine now.” He rolled his eyes pointedly (You could see that from under a domino, right?) and turned back to the messages that had accumulated in his absence.
Tim Drake: I need some files from the JLA server, okay? It’s not something I want Bruce to know about. Damian’s going to distract him while you and I take care of it.
Jason Todd: Why do you need me? I’m busy.
Tim Drake: I need a ride.
Jason Todd: Seriously?
Tim Drake: Unless you know someone else who lives in a spaceship
Tim Drake: Do you want me to call you and explain?
Jason Todd: Don’t bother. I’m not doing it.
Tim Drake: Why??
Jason Todd: I told you, I’m busy.
Wonderful. If Todd wasn’t on board, that would make the hour Damian spent recording sound bytes (plan A) completely useless. He could have been asleep. And plan D was literally lighting the kitchen on fire— didn’t Todd know how much effort he’d put into this? Damian huffed in annoyance and typed:
Busy polishing your firearms?
Jason Todd: Busy.
I’m working in a limited window of time here, Todd. You both need to leave NOW.
Jason Todd: I told you I’m not going. Kori’s got a thing, we need the ship, the answer is no.
So was the plan off? Damian needed to know in the next sixty seconds— Commissioner Gordon was losing patience. If they didn’t have an answer by the time he finished storming back inside—
Tim Drake: Come ON, Jay. It won’t take long.
Jason Todd: Stop texting me.
Tim Drake: I really need those files, okay? It’s important.
Jason Todd: Stop texting me, or you’ll regret it.
Tim Drake: Please?
Jason Todd: That’s it
Damian clicked off his screen and set it in his lap. What a waste of time. Commissioner Gordon was gone now— Batman was standing by himself, looking steamed. There was nothing else he could do— might as well prepare for the rest of patrol.
But then his phone flickered on again, precisely accompanied by a soft ding behind him. Damian glanced down in horror.
Jason Todd added Bruce Wayne to the group
Oh no.
Damian turned around slowly, just in time to see the bemused expression on his father’s face turn cold as he scrolled through the messages.
“Robin?”
“Um…”
Damian searched for an explanation as their phones went off one more time—
Tim Drake: Bruh