Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

"P-please, no ..."

The omega begged in terror, desperately trying to hide his thin and fragile body from the sight of his predators. He was surrounded, and he knew it was too late to escape, the pack had flanked all possible escape routes from him, there was only the hope of receiving any kind of reprieve if he proved not rebellious.

Tim had been doing well. He had been careful, he had not made any mistakes in his books, he had stayed away from the herds, from the numerous settlements, away from the roads or highways, hidden deep in the woods, where he had his hut and could subsist peacefully of what he cultivated and hunted without having contact with society other than for articles that he could not manufacture himself, he could count on one hand the times he had left the forest in these four years since he lost his mother. Then why? Why was this happening to him?!, What had he done wrong ?!

“Let's give it a break, guys. It looks like he's going to pass out ”one of the betas, a tall red-haired woman said as she took a couple of steps closer to him.

"Hello, little one" let out a friendly voice from the right of her, but out of sight of her. "You've been here a long time haven't you?" her voice was soft, with a soothing touch, but Tim could only feel fear. He knew that the people who pretended to be nice were the cruelest.

“Smart as hell too. It took us almost a year to get the hang of it. "

Tim jumps at the statement. He turns around and can see that the one who said this is another alpha. This one has black hair with a lone lock of white hair in his bangs, and he's stocky, tall, tall and muscular enough that he knows he doesn't stand a chance if he were to lay his hands on him. . Those huge hands and arms could crush his face with a single punch.
His brain can't stop thinking about this alpha's declaration. Tim had a habit of moving through the woods and changing shelters at least three times a year, into small random huts that he built in hard-to-reach spots to keep himself safe. If what he says is true, they had a whole year to map his locations, and that meant that even though he could somehow miraculously flee, he couldn't hide, not without starting from scratch. It was going to be impossible to lose them.

Someone else stepped forward. His scent and his aura screamed alpha of the pack. This one was black haired, too, but even when the alpha with the white lock was tall and muscular, he was dwarfed by at least half a head and the sturdiness of a bloody tank. Her stern gaze of sharp, dark blue eyes challenged him to try to disobey him.

“Give it up,” he says, and his voice has an alpha command touch, just enough for Tim to feel an instinctive need to bow his head and submit, which he barely resists. If you resist, I will have to submit you. "

Tim takes a few stumbling steps away, his breathing quickening. This situation is basically all of his nightmares coming life. Everything her mother told her to avoid, what she had to live, a prisoner of a pack that abused her and hurt her so much that when she finally managed to free herself and run with Tim in tow, before to his presentation as an omega like her, the aftermath killed her shortly after, leaving him alone to fend for himself in the forest.
He shakes his head, unable to speak, unable to uselessly plead for mercy. He knows that he will not be able to bear the same things as his mother, he is not so strong, so smart, not even so pretty that they do not consider seriously hurting him in an attempt to preserve his beauty. He is skinny, pale and definitely lacking in curves. He will not survive long enough to escape.

"I won't hurt you," says the alpha, analyzing the fear gnawing at Tim, and turning his gaze into something less threatening. He bends his posture in an appeasing gesture "None of us will hurt you, but we cannot afford not to claim you."

Worst of all, Tim knows it's true. As much as omegas are treated like garbage by most of humanity, they are basically the rope that holds a pack together. Pack ties are only made effective through an omega, and because of its obvious reproductive role, no pack would neglect the opportunity to claim an omega. Much less a rogue omega like Tim who has no claims on him, so there's no need to start a pack fight for his custody.

"He's fucking scared, Bruce," says the alpha with the white lock, who is lying quietly on the trunk of a nearby tree, but still lurking in case Tim tries to run away "I think the best thing is to give him a pheromone bath and leave, we will take care of the rest at home, if we stay longer, we could attract unwanted attention.”

The alpha nods. Better to avoid any chance of encountering more rogues and initiate a possible bloodbath.

The alpha takes one last look at his trembling form and seems to shake off any spark of doubt. He quickly approaches Tim who reacts with scared and desperate violence, growling and trying to attack the huge alpha, even when he knows there is no chance. A little scuffle is all it takes to have Tim face the ground and the alpha quickly squeeze the pheromone gland on the omega's neck, activating his submission mechanism.

Tim runs out of bones. He exhales a terrified groan, but otherwise doesn't move, the alpha gently picks him up in his arms, gently cradling his head. He is smooth, much gentler than Tim would expect from an alpha of his stature, or any alpha for that matter.

"Poor thing" says the red-haired beta, approaching "I don't think I will have good experiences with a herd if it chose to stay in a damn forest abandoned by God, suffering isolation and all kinds of faults instead of look for a pack"

The alpha nods "we will treat him well" says, while the omega groans again and trembles like a leaf "with a little patience and time we will show him that he has nothing to fear."

“We've been lucky to last as long as a herd without an omega to join us” says the white-tufted alpha “you better treat him like a fucking treasure. I didn't join this pack to see what people like Black Mask or the fucking Joker do to omegas. "

The conversation continues, but that's all Tim hears before fear and submission turn everything black.

Chapter Text

He left the city in a tide of pain that burned deep in his chest, ripping the frayed threads of his sanity some more. he had lost everything again. Not only Kon, Bart and Bruce, he had also lost Robin to Damian, Bruce's true blood child.

Tim knew, he knew he was a boy, but that was no excuse for the way he was treated and how Dick looked to the side, hoping he would shut up and take the damage until the demon child could learn to be a real boy and not a killing machine created by an equally murderous lunatic obsessed with bloodlines.

He shook his head to clear the invasive thoughts from his mind. This was no time to be consumed by anger and jealousy, there is no time to be sentimental. He had to find Bruce, he was sure he was still alive, but now, without the support of his family and a forceful rejection from the rest of the hero community, he had to do it alone.

Luckily, that was the way he was used to doing things.

He passes out from exhaustion a few days later, too busy to have slept in a few days, supercharged with shitty coffee and pizza.

If it weren't for the aftermath, Tim would dismiss what happened next as the strangest sleep deprivation hallucination of his entire life.

He woke up in his hotel room surrounded by total silence. That set off a couple of alarms in his head, never a place like that should be so quiet, so… lifeless. He gets out of bed quickly, scanning the room. Everything seems in his place, but inmediatly  looks under his bed for the suitcase where he has his new uniform, surprised to find nothing.

Who was here? Why did they steal his equipment and do nothing to him?

Hurriedly looks for the door, he has already verified that the windows do not open and a kind of fluorescent light is all that he can see through the cracks.

The door has no lock.

When he opens it he takes a step back. In front of him are some stairs, very similar to those of the Batcave, but instead of going down, they climb until they are lost in a gray mist. He looks back and can only see his hotel room. He must be dreaming, he imagines. He will wake up soon.

Walk cautiously down the stairs. The hotel room seems to have been torn from the building and he are floating in a blue space, seemingly endless, where you can see loose rocks and small islets floating in the distance and ... is that a whale?, a colossal leviathan swims high above him, the whale sings, a groan that bounces off the wide void, and makes his bones tremble, sounds half cry, half groan, as if he were in an eternal state of agony. Suddenly comes the realization that it is more likely that he has been drugged and is having a bad trip, tied up in some warehouse while a group of random villains waits for him to wake up to start the fun.

When he finishes climbing, a very particular scene appears that makes his heart ache. It's Dick and him having the damn fight after his brother took Robin from him and gave him to Damian. They are paralyzed, a perfect replica of the scene depicted by what appear to be extremely realistic statues of themselves. He can see himself, he can see Dick and he can see Damien in the background with the same look of disdain and superiority, wearing his new suit.

Suddenly, there is something, he cannot describe the feeling. It is as if the world is undulating, the air leaves her lungs and her gaze falls on a black and gray smoke that forms in the background of the fight scene.

"Hello Timothy, your life has turned upside down, hasn't it?"

Who says this is a man. He is floating, looking disinterestedly at the statues of his family, and then he is looking on Tim.

All he can see is black, an unfathomable depth enclosed in two basins of an eyes of something that looks human, but certainly isn't. It's not just his gaze, it's the otherworldly air that he gives off, he's never met anyone who makes him feel that way, and he's seen Klarion a couple of times.

Looks like a young man, dressed in a coat of some unknown material and leather boots with silver buckles, his fingers have several rings, gold and silver earrings without stones or distinctions, his hair is short and black and could be called attractive if it wasn't for that inhuman air that he gives off in waves of himself.

Tim tries to speak, but his lips seem to be paralyzed.

"Your mentor is apparently dead, your brother has replaced you, and you will have a fundamental role in the days to come."

The memory of his court relationship with his family still burns her, but he remains unable to speak, unable to defend himself with the poisonous tongue he inherited from Janet Drake.

"That is why I have chosen you and I have brought you into the void, I am The Outsider, and this is my mark"

Burns.

It hurts a lot.

His left hand burns as if boiling iron had been placed on it and he can only see a strange drawing appear on the back of his hand, with an arrow and some thorns, which he frankly cannot see well, his eyes blurred by the pain.

As fast as he arrives he leaves and all that remains is the mark, tattooed on his hand as if he had been there a long time ago.

"There are forces in the world and beyond it, great forces that men call magic, and now these forces carry out your will."

Magic? Shit, really ?, Tim can't believe it, magic is something powerful and dangerous that is not available, the members of the league that possess it are very few and Batman has always hated it, for how unstable it is .

While debating what it means to him, the creature who calls himself The Outsider continues his monologue.

“Use your newly acquired power, my gift to you. Come find me. "

It vanishes into thin air and the floating islands in the background are clearer to Tim.

He is paralyzed for a couple of moments, not sure what to do exactly, but he has always been a quick thinker and an even quicker learner and soon he can feel something boiling inside him being catalyzed by the mark on his left hand, which is heats up and shines and the world turns gray. He can see himself and he can see the next islet, just beyond his normal jump level.

Suddenly both the islet and him are just two points in the universe joined by a straight line, Tim squeezes his left hand and describes what happened as "blinking" and then standing at his next location.

He "blink" between the islets and finds more paralyzed scenes as a kind of ghoulish exibition, an display of inflection points from the past few months.

He can see Batman getting beaten up by Darkseid, He can see Jason sitting in a safe house in Crime Alley, He can see Cass in Hong Kong in an extremely complex ballet pose, among other less pleasant scenes.

He finally reaches a dead end and the Outsider reappears before him, his expression blank.

"In the days to come, you will suffer great tribulations, Timothy. Seek the ancient runes that bear my mark in lonely places in your world and in shrines erected in my name. The runes will grant you powers beyond the reach of other men."

A rune floats in front of him, it has the same mark carved into what looks like a bone. When he touches her, it disappears into ash and he can feel his left hand warm again.

"To help you find them I also give you my Gaze Void, it will allow you to" see" the songs that my runes sing and find them anywhere" The stranger smiles, a soft and horrible thing, like smiling at an animal that is going to be sacrificed. "The use that you give to what I offer you depends on you, as it already depended on those who preceded you, and now I return you to your world, but you must know that I will observe you with great interest."

Tim opens his eyes and jumps out of bed. His heart is pounding in his chest and he is covered in sweat, he looks frantically around him, but everything is in order, the map of places to visit, his equipment, his uniform, the communicators of him.

He puts a hand to his chest and sighs. Maybe he should get more sleep if he's going to have such aggressive hallucinations every time he passes out from exhaustion.

When he looks at his left hand, the hand that was touching his chest. He can see the mark of his dream carved into his back.

Hey.

Chapter Text

Tim (the name given to the specimen) came to the foundation for the protection of Dragons almost eight months ago. His primary caretaker, Dr. Woosan described it as one of the saddest cases he had ever had the opportunity to witness.

Tim was one of the victims of the illegal animal trade, reportedly stolen by poachers, shortly after hatching from the egg. The hunters killed their parents for the horns, scales and fangs and saw an opportunity to sell the little dragon, trading it on the black market until it ended up in the hands of Jack and Janet Drake, a pair of archaeologists who held it captive for almost twelve years.

The Drakes were charged with various crimes including tax fraud and smuggling of archaeological relics and after their arrest a court order was issued to search the Drakes' private estate and find more incriminating evidence.

That's when the police found Tim, locked in a tiny cell, terribly malnourished and small for a dragon his age, with signs of abuse and a severe case of depigmentation and soft scales.

As a dragon of the Fucanglong race, a flightless race that mostly inhabited the Asian continent and southern Russia, Tim was destined to be a land predator (they are flightless-type dragons) and one of his greatest characteristics is his precious pigmentation red and black and its scales of impressive hardness.

Since he was locked up for so many years without access to sunlight and the plants from which he gets his pigmentation, Tim was a sickly gray (where it should be black) and yellow (where it should be red) dotted with completely white patches.

His soft scale disease was caused both by the tightness of the cage in which he was locked (he could move, but was too small for any type of exercise) and he had no surfaces with which to scratch the scales and harden them.

And not to mention its small size (barely half of what it should be at its age).

It may not have been the most injured dragon they have ever received, but it was the saddest dragon. Not socializing, malnourished and acting at all times like a beaten dog, fleeing from the hands to curl itself and hide its snout between its paws, shaking and making pained and frightened noises.

He broke the hearts of his caretakers to see him like this.

Little by little he had started to improve, obviously his progress was slow, but at least he was eating more, and if they were lucky one of the keepers could see his face out of his legs. They were all well aware that Tim could never be released, but they would give him the best life they could in the sanctuary.

What they did not count on was what happened four months later.

They had made enormous progress with Tim, some of the white patches had started to turn gray and they had been able to start a healthier diet (he was used to eating dry concentrates because of those idiots Drake, who were rotting in jail) and he was getting close to the keepers letting them feed him when he saw that it was not an excuse to hit him.

A negligent caretaker (he might have been new to the job, but was negligent) did not transport Tim back to his solo habitat after his monthly check-up, but instead put him in the next habitat. It would not have been so bad if it were not because that habitat was occupied… by a whole herd….

They were a herd of flying dragons that the keepers affectionately called "the bats", it consisted of four males and two females (Bruce, Dick, Jason, Damian, Cassandra and Steph) of which only one was in recovery (Steph had been rescued by an injured wing) and after being transported to the foundation and placed in an open-roof habitat, her entire pack had appeared for her.

Unfortunately she could not leave without finishing the recovery so the managers imprisoned her wings so that the wound would not be hurt and the bones could heal, and since she could not leave, now the entire herd lived there, until they could free her and emigrate to his home.

And little Tim was invading his territory without knowing it.

By the time they found out about the rookie mistake, it was too late, they ran to try to get Tim out of the habitat, but he had strayed too far from the door.

When he was found on camera he was being cornered by one of the largest males in the herd.

Jason was by far one of the largest dragon races, nearly ten meters from head to tip of tail, loaded with large muscles and even larger wings, designed for strength. His fangs were deadly and they used their red horns to impale his enemies.

Tim tried to sneak back to the door (his boy was very smart) but was intercepted by the huge dragon, which pushed him with one of its legs towards the wall, forcing him to back up until he was pressed against a corner, and if Tim  not he had curled himself up out of fear, it was because he would leave himself too vulnerable to Jason's claws and fangs.

Jason roared angrily and Tim flinched, Jason showed him his fangs and flapped his wings in a blatant display of power and the earth dragon froze.

He couldn't tell, not with the zero socialization he'd had, but what the other dragon was trying to make him submit to, and Tim paralyzed with terror was only provoking him to attack, refusing to submit.

The caretakers watched, terrified and saddened, as Jason lunged at Tim and threw him like a rag doll several feet away.

The little dragonet squeals and collapses, the roars attracting the rest of the pack.

None of those who personally took care of Tim's health stay in the surveillance room. They don't want to see his little dragon get ripped apart by a pack of angry dragons.

Jason lunges again and Tim is hit again crashing into a tree. The older dragon roars again and flaps his wings, but Tim doesn't respond, he doesn't know how to do it. He does not know that he has to lie with his belly up and his neck exposed to ask for mercy.

The pack  finally arrives. Jason growls and screeches at them, flapping his wings to communicate in a dialect investigators have yet to decipher and then tries to lash out at Tim again.

But Bruce (the alpha of the pack) growls and stops him.

The red dragon growls in irritation, but complies after another roar from Bruce. He roars one last time at Tim and backs away to rejoin the rest of the great black dragon's brood.

Bruce takes a step forward.

Bruce's race is the second largest registered dragon race in the world. It is a nocturnal breed (hence everyone affectionately calls it the bat) it is completely black from the tip of the snout to the end of the tail. The only exception is her blue eyes that glow in the dark. It is terrifying and powerful.

Bruce roars at Tim. The little dragon finally can't stand it and curls up on itself, tucking its head firmly between its hind legs, and refusing to make any other movement.

The huge dragon is silent.

The entire herd seems to be out of breath.

Cass, the younger of the two female dragons, approaches Tim's trembling body without hesitation. Bruce tries to stop her, but she dodges him and approaches to Tim.

But instead of attacking him like Jason, the investigators observe that she sniffs him hard, moving it with her muzzle as if she is looking for something in him. Tim is still not moving, but the dragon does not give up, sniffing and moving it with its snout until it forces it to uncoil.

All the investigators are on the edge of his seat. This has never happened, normally invaders who enter the territory of a pack or surrender and are driven out or fight and are violently killed.

Tim stands up shaky and looks at Cass. She drops to the ground and turns on her back (right in the submission position) and quickly gets back on her feet. Tim doesn't seem to understand, and she repeats the movement at least three times, until her little Fucanglong gets the idea.

He drops to the ground, turns back and stays with her belly exposed towards Cass.

Doctors and investigators crowd the surveillance room.

She grunts in agreement and looks at Bruce.

The huge dragon is paralyzed. He reaches over and tucks his snout into Tim's belly, sniffing him just like Cass, searching for something he doesn't seem to find. The whole herd is approaching.

It is quite clear that Tim is terrified, but he remains in the submission position while each member of the pack sniffs him in the belly, but when it comes to Jason's turn Tim lets out a terrified groan and tries to get up. Bruce puts a paw on the dragon so it won't move.

Jason looks suspicious, but he doesn't attack again, he sniffs it.

He raises his head and looks at the pack of him confused.

He then sniffs again and again and again and grows increasingly irritated, growling at any movement from Tim.

When he realizes that whatever he is looking for  Timdoesn't have it, he looks furious. Dragons don't have many facial expressions (not like humans) but the exposed teeth, flared nose, and ears set against the head give it away.

He growls at Bruce and Bruce growls back.

Then they all pounce on Tim.

Doctors and researchers close their eyes, finally losing hope.

But there is no screaming or the sound of broken bones or blood splattering the meadow.

The pack isn't tearing up Tim like everyone thought, they're licking him.

From muzzle to tail, each member of the pack is bathing it in saliva. Tim screams and looks just as puzzled as all the scientists looking at him through the cameras.

Bruce licks his head, horns, and neck, while his brood licks the rest of his body, even Damian (the pack's cub, slightly smaller than Tim) is busy licking his tail.

This takes a little over half an hour.

When they finish their work, they take a few steps back and Cass encourages the little dragon to get up. Tim stands up, unsure of what they want after that session of… cleaning?… Cleaning the food before devouring it?

Dragons no longer seem aggressive, even Jason looks particularly calm and they start to walk away from where they came from.

The investigators begin to hope that they will leave and be able to recover Timmy unharmed, there are already a couple of groups waiting at the door of the enclosure, ready to enter for the dragon when the pack gets far enough from him.

Tim seems to be having a similar idea, he begins to slowly slide back towards the door (boy, this dragon is a bloody genius), without turning his back on the retreating pack.

Then Bruce turns around.

Tim freezes.

The Alpha dragon growls, as if reprimanding him and stands between Tim and his journey to safety by growling at the smaller dragon, butting him in the rear pushing him forward ...

Towards the retreating pack.

He pushes and shoves him until Tim begins to walk on his own, and Bruce remains behind him at all times, preventing him from escaping.

Bruce relaxes for a moment when he sees that Tim obeys him and that is his mistake. The little dragon shoots like an arrow towards the door (Tim's dragon type may not be a flier, but he is a very fast runner and jumper).

The rescue team opens the door ready to greet Tim, encouraging him to run into his arms.

And then Dick lands in front of the door, almost poking his nose inside.

Everyone screams and closes the door .

The blue dragon turns and walks towards the terrified Tim.

He opens his jaws and grabs him by the neck.

Carrying him like a puppy.

Tim is a bit big for that, but Dick copes very well as he trots back to the herd with his load in tow. Bruce seems to congratulate his older brood by bumping his snout against Dick's head.

Finally they crawl they get lost in the woods with Tim in tow.

"Hey…" says Dr. Isley, uncertain but excited, "is it just me or did Tim just get adopted?"

Chapter Text

There is something caught in the web.

Jason moves swiftly, grabbing the web from the ends and entangling the creature even more, completely preventing its escape from him.

Something has been eating the fish in the pond and it was his self-imposed mission to find out what it was and stop the wrongdoer. Now Bruce's expensive snobby fish will be safe (not because he cares about them or considers them very beautiful, no). It's just that they're expensive as shit (huge Koi fish imported from Japan or something) that have been mysteriously disappearing for the past few weeks.

Whoever was stalking the pond hadn't set off the alarms (they were checked and were in perfect condition) so they ruled out the possibility of a thief. Then they found fish remains in the pond and realized that it must be some kind of animal that had made the forest on the Wayne estate his new home.

"Come here you little shit" Jason growls, dragging the nets out of the water, fighting the wriggling of the mysterious animal. "Your reign of terror is over."

To say that he was surprised when he lifted the net a bit and found a tiny baby seal, all hairy and wet and white is an understatement.

"What?"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Tim didn't mean to hurt annyone (he swears) he just couldn't resist the temptation. He has been starving ever since he got his sealskin  (luckily he got it while her parents were on a trip to Indonesia) and his Selkie side  demands more and more food in order to grow. .

His mother hates his supernatural lineage. She specifically hates the Selkie bloodline, because a skin is too dangerous. If someone obtains it he will have power over the bearer of it, and he will be able to force him to do anything because the coat is a part of his soul and no one can disobey an order to his soul.

He knows that if his mother finds out that he now has a skin, she will remove it and take it away to hide it somewhere where Tim can never find it. He knows her mother won't destroy her (destroying her would kill Tim) but he will take that secret to her grave and forever separate the selkie half from his human half. The boy does not know if he will be able to live like this, he is not as strong as she, that he got rid of her skin and remained permanently in the world of humans.

That is why he keeps himself well hidden. Every time her parents arrive in Gotham he buries his skin on the grounds of the Drake Mansion, protecting it from the elements with a waterproof tarp, and spends the entire week (or days that remain) in sacred obedience to his parents and denying any hint of his less human part.

The only thing he hasn't been able to escape from is the growing hunger. He's hungry all the time and he knows it's because of his seal form, desperate to grow up and catch up with his human part (which isn't that big either) but Tim can't afford to feed so uninhibitedly without blowing his cover.

His parents have never denied him food, but they control it. The child knows that it is the only way for them to know if something has changed in him (that or find his skin) and he will not risk being discovered because his credit card statements showed that he bought large quantities of fish and seafood.

The problem is that for now he don't know how to fix it.

He tried to eat the fish that live on Gotham's docks once.

Never more.

Those creatures can't even be called fish and are so contaminated with joker venom, rest of fear gas, and all kinds of toxins that the food chain just said "no" and stepped aside.

He could find healthier sea food offshore, but he is aware that he is just a baby seal with no way to defend himself if attacked by something or if he gets lost in some current, and he had already risked too much in the docks, full of drug traffickers and pollution. He's even riskier than following his heroes at night with a camera, because at least when he follows them he leaves his skin at home.

So while he was scouring the grounds of the mansion in search of a new place to hide his skin from the imminent arrival of his parents, he stumbled upon the boundaries of the Drake property and the Wayne property and the pond that divided.

And the fish that lived in the pond.

He was immediately lost and hearing the call of his stomach for an easy meal (he had finally been full, even for a couple of days) was what had led him to be entangled in a web, with his Robin staring at him in surprise and curiosity (which would soon turn into hatred against the thief who was so blatantly stealing them). he howled in fear and hoped with all his heart he wouldn't end up turned into a tote bag or a hat.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Jason should be mad at the fish thief, really, he should, but ... he's a baby seal, all fluff and white and doesn't look like he has parents, a victim of animal trafficking? the Drake's traveling in some country in Europe he would suspect that they're trafficked the seal, but it does not make sense to traffic an exotic animal and not be there to show it off.

He maybe he escaped from some careless animal dealer, because seals have never been part of the Gotham ecosystem.

He takes his cell phone out of his pocket and takes a picture of his catch, sending it to Bruce who is on patrol along with the message "look at the fish thief" (Jason stayed home this time to hunt down the intruder who was eating the nice and expensive fish).

A couple of minutes later he received the answer (the patrol must be calm if Bruce answered so quickly).

B: ???

Jason: yeah, I don't know where he came from either, but he was in the pond so it's safe to say he's the prime suspect.

B: we will have to keep it overnight and call animal control in the morning, maybe we can find shelter for it at the zoo. I already contacted Alfred, he will help you find a place to put it at dawn.

Jason: Can I give him some fish? he's must be very hungry if he went into the pond.

B: Ok.

After that Bruce stopped answering, he probably found some crime to stop.

Alfred arrived shortly after and even raised an eyebrow in surprise. (That was a lot of expression on the part of the always gentle butler).

"I have prepared a small shed where we can put our little guest until animal control returns in the morning" says the butler taking the small animal still entangled in the nets.

"Can't we keep it?" Jason asks hastily "he is very small and it is for sure that he has no family if he was alone, eating the fish in the pond"

"I am very sorry Master Jason, but it is a wild animal, we cannot provide adequate care for its species, but I am sure we will find a good refuge in the zoo"

"It was worth the try"

Together they carry the baby seal to a small shed that used to be occupied with gardening tools but now is empty.

With Alfred's permission Jason puts a bowl of water for him (he uses one of Ace's spare bowls) and in another bowl he puts some fish fillets for his little seal friend.

Then they close the shed door, and go to sleep.

Or so Jason would say, but he couldn't help but want to look at the seal and take pictures of it before they took it away.

He didn't expect to find a little boy almost completely naked except for a sealskin wrapped around his waist eating the frozen fish he left in Ace's bowl.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When Mr. Pennyworth lifted him off the ground (still entangled in Robin Jason's nets), Tim knew he was lost. He had to escape before the animal control arrived. If they took him to the zoo he could never be human again, not where everyone could see him change and then discover his nature and that of his mother, and everyone would know that the Drakes were of magical descent and his parents could never return to Gotham and they would leave him to fend for himself and it would all be his fault, for being a greedy glutton.

When they put him in the shed, Tim plans to get out as soon as he's left alone. As long as they consider him to be just an animal he has the advantage to be able to escape and return home and never again do something as stupid as robbing Batman.

Jason leaves him a bowl of water and a bowl of fish fillets and then they close the door and Tim can hear them walking for a few seconds before he is left alone and silent.

Tim waits a little over half an hour before being sure they're really gone and then he pulls his hands out of his skin and spreads it open, to reveal his naked human body. Some selkie wear clothes inside his skin, but Tim has never been able to ignore the discomfort of feeling fabric that is traversing between his skin and his human body, he has always preferred the feeling of being completely a seal.

Since the shed door was not locked, he has no problem opening the door. But before he can, he notices the fresh, pink, and juicy fish fillets Jason, his Robin left to him.

It would be a waste to leave them there, right? After all, even if he don't eat them Mr. Pennyworth isn't going to do something like take them back to use for food.

Made up his mind he sits near the bowl and takes one of the steaks.

He bites it.

He lets out a moan of pleasure when he tastes it.

He is delicious.

As good as the fresh fish he stole from Mr. Wayne's pond during the week.

In his human form, Tim doesn't have seal fangs, but his teeth are slightly sharper than a common human's and his molars have some spikes that make it easy to break bones.

He is so entertained with his third fish fillet that he does not hear the soft footsteps approaching the shed door and does not have enough time to put his skin back on before a cellphone flashlight shines on his face and takes him a picture.

"What the holy fuck !?"

When Tim is discovered,  he does the only thing that should be done in that situation.

He drops the fish fillet, covers his face with his hands, and starts to cry.

Chapter Text

Bruce watches the pup that joined his pack a few weeks ago. This one is special, a little dragon without wings.

He looks weak and sick, and Bruce groans at the thought of the conditions this pup has grown up in, to look so pale and weak.

Jason didn't even hit him that hard when he still saw him as an intruder, he just shook him a bit, holding back due to his small size and he can still see some broken and bleeding scales, when they should be hard and clean. and shiny, that nothing more than a real bite or a very strong claw could open.

Dick carries his new brother carefully, taking him to his nest at bedtime, every night the little dragon tries to sneak away when everyone is asleep, heading for the cages where the humans hide, and Dick brings him back. His new cub is stiff as a corpse in Dick's snout, looking tense, like he's never been carried before and Bruce can believe it. Before he smelled it, he didn't smell like any pack, it was just a lonely and sad fragrance. They have a lot of work to do for it to heal and grow.

He doesn't seem to respond to Steph or Damien's attempts to interact with him, they try to call him to lure him in for a play and meal session, but his new puppy freezes right where Dick left off. He seems like he can hear them, because whenever Damian or Steph playfully barks at him, he turns his head, but he doesn't respond beyond that.

It's like I can't understand them.

The only way she reacts forcefully is when Jason tries to get her attention. And not in a good way. He crouches down and flips onto his back in the submission position. Jason looks hurt, even though everyone has assured him that he wasn't really violent towards the pup, (there's a lot more force and punching when his pups are friendly fighting) but all of their attempts to bond end in a terrified dragon submitting and Jason curling up in a frenzy moody cave corner.

Right now the whole herd is in the river hunting and cooling off from the intense heat. His newest pup is curled up on the shore, flanked by Cass and Damian. Of all the pups in their pack, Damien and Cassandra are the only ones who have any kind of connection to their newest child, Cass, because she is the expert at reading body language, as her little girl is mute, her way of communicating is It is mainly based on reading the expressions of the body and expressing herself through her movements to make herself understood by others.

She is the one who has been translating everything she can from her new pup.

So far, all she has been able to tell them is that he is scared, sad, and very lonely. It doesn't seem like he's ever had a pack looking out for his safety, and though Bruce doesn't want to admit it, he's surprised he's lived this long on his own. His poor new son has had a difficult life.

But Bruce and his pack are nothing if not persistent.

Cassandra carries a big, fat fish in her mouth that breaks in two with one bite. She gives half to Damian, who is still too young to dive down and hunt his own food, and the other half to her new baby brother, who has probably never had anyone to teach him how to hunt.

Damian eats her part heartily, giving Cass a couple of happy barks in thanks. Her new cub looks at hers as if she is suddenly going to revive and eat him.

Cass push the fish toward the younger dragon (they need to name him soon, but Bruce also has to find a way to make the boy respond when called) and goads him into eating.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Tim looks at the black female dragon who offers him half of a huge fish. he's mouth watering, it's the freshest food he's ever seen. The first humans who had him fed him dry balls of earth that Tim had to force in, and the second humans who had him, though much kinder, fed him cold meat, from long-dead animals.

Tim doesn't take his eyes off the female dragon for a moment as he inches closer to his portion of food. He expects to receive a punishment at any moment. So far they have not been encouraged to eat it, but at any time they could change their minds. They seem to want to fatten him up, and Tim would balk at such an obvious trap, but he's hungry and if he's going to die, at least he can enjoy the whole process a bit.

The huge red dragon has not hit him again, thanks to the technique that the black dragon taught him to appease him, Tim has been saved from more beatings, and no one has ripped the scales off him. Whenever the red dragon gets close, Tim curls up like he should and immediately walks away, he must be doing it right! he will stay away from the bigger dragons, and try to stay out of the way of the others, so maybe they don't hurt Tim and he can quickly escape into the stone cage where the humans live.

They haven't let him in! Tim managed to get to the door before the blue dragon grabs him by the back of the neck, but they don't open it! did he do something wrong? Did the humans decide to feed it to the strongest dragons? What can he do to be allowed in?

The fish is quickly finished and Tim licks his teeth. He can feel that he has more energy than before, his scales don't hurt as much or itchy his skin anymore, and now even he can sharpen his claws against tree trunks without his fingers bleeding.

He has also begun to rummage through the plants for morsels of food. From what little he remembers of his progeny parents, he can see his mother eating certain herbs, and of those he remembers he has found several around the dragons' lair. From what he has seen now, the other dragons only eat meat, and although he likes it too, he wants to try more things. After so much time eating the disgusting food that those bad humans gave him, any bite is the best thing he has ever eaten in his life.

He bites down hard on the trunk of a nearby tree and licks up the sweet sap that comes out of the wounds in the bark. The black dragon looks at it for a moment and then dives back down, probably to fish for more food for himself. The dragon cub approaches Tim determinedly, scratches the bark of the tree at a height much more accessible to him, and then licks the sap.

He quickly spits it out and coughs, giving Tim a betrayed look that clearly says “this tastes horrible, why would anyone eat this” and growls and makes some little noises that are kind of adorable. Tim hisses a laugh. He doesn't think carnivorous dragons appreciate tree sap.

Tim looks around and doesn't see that he is being watched by anyone, he quickly approaches the puppy and crashes his jaw against the puppy's head like he remembers his mother once did to him.

The pup freezes and Tim suddenly remembers that this isn't his pack, and taking such liberties to comfort a pup that doesn't belong to him is a huge mistake.

A huge black shadow looms over him. The huge alpha dragon watches from high above (it's too huge, at least five or six times Tim's size). He ducks his ears, starting to turn to flee, but a quick wing flick from the elder dragon corners him.

And then the alpha dragon's jaw is caressing the top of his head just like he did to the cub.

Tim freezes.

The way the dragon is behaving with Tim is how a father would behave with his young. But Tim hasn't been a pup in a long time nor has he had a pack for an even longer time.

The dragon cub barks and makes a few growling attempts for his broodfather's attention, but finally seems to understand and moves closer to Tim, beginning to rub against what he can reach (his paws and the lower part of his chest). ).

No no no no.

This is very cruel.

They shouldn't... they shouldn't treat him like that, as if he were a herd, as if he were theirs...

He realizes that he is huffing and puffing in anguish as he sees the herd rushing toward them. Even the huge red dragon comes walking towards him.

The yellow dragon and the blue feathered dragon come down from the trees where they were resting and the female black dragon comes out of the water carrying another huge fish.

Tim's legs tremble and he struggles to bow to the red dragon, but the cub gets under him, preventing him from throwing himself to the ground (he would hurt the cub with his weight, and he doubts the pack would be so forgiving of him if did) so he stands and waits.

Each dragon nuzzles the top of his head and finally the red dragon approaches as well.

He gets a caress as gentle as everyone else gave him and a gentle lick on the head.

Maybe the red dragon isn't so angry anymore. Tim thinks that he should apologize and try to make amends to avoid any more confrontations between the two.

As scared as if they were going to eat him (it was possible they did depending on how badly the red dragon reacted) he bumps his snout against the dragon's jaw (he wouldn't be able to reach it if it weren't for the fact that the other one is crouching down to his level) and he rubs against her, trying to communicate his apology.

I'm sorry, I won't make you angry, I'll be good.

The larger dragon freezes for a long moment and Tim fears that he has made his final mistake.

Only for the red dragon to open its jaws, he circles Tim's neck and lifts him off the ground, gurgling happily.

Tim groans in fear, but it doesn't seem to make any difference to the other dragon, because he runs with it in its jaws to the nest the pack has been sleeping in, places it carefully in the center and snuggles up around it, beginning to bathe it. and groom him with happy trills.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Dr. Woosan, Dr. Isley and Dr. Quinzel watch the scene from the cameras with complete satisfaction. Dr. Quinzel even cries a bit and boisterously wipes her nose with tissues.

"This is so beautiful," she says, getting a nod from her colleagues, "our baby is being fully adopted."

Chapter Text

As Tim hidden behind a bush, watched his parents ferociously attack the alpha of the pack Wayne. Tim had a strong feeling that his parents' plan was going to fail. Even with the juicy prize of more territory for the Drake pack, more resources, more prey and strategic locations, the opponent wasn't just any person.

His parents relentlessly attacked Bruce Wayne, taking advantage of the moment when the werewolf left his pack sheltered in his lair and went out for the last patrol on the borders of his territory. A dishonorable strategy to not take on a whole herd, but to tear it apart "it's not dishonorable Tim" his mother told him, rolling her eyes in annoyance when he mentioned what he thought "it's strategy, it's for our survival" except it wasn't for his survival when, despite their small territory, they managed well, and they had not once had to go hungry or cold, even when Tim was left alone while his parents went hunting for several days or weeks, he had managed to hunt some small game and hold out until they came back. He winced behind a bush as he saw Bruce Wayne take a vicious bite out of his father and shake his mother off his back.

"Tim! do something!" his mother roared as the cub cowered, he still hadn't lost his baby teeth and she doubted he could do any harm to a wolf as huge as pack alpha Wayne "What are you waiting for?!"

“don't be useless!” growled his father dodging a claw from the older wolf that would have taken out an eye "attack him!"

Tim took a couple of steps forward, raising the fur on his back, letting out a growl that sounded more like a cross between a whimper and a screech, but the alpha of the pack Wayne only had to look at him and growl to make him back at full speed. He was not capable, his parents could withstand the blows, but he has no doubt that a single claw or bite from that enormous wolf, at best, would leave him permanently crippled and at worst, dead once and for all.

“Useless pup!” yelled one of his parents, he didn't know which one as panic began to rise throughout his body, even with his attacks the rival alpha kept standing, little by little gaining ground and pushing back his parents who were getting more and more hurt. They never stood a chance, not with his uncoordinated attacks, each demanding the other follow his plans, never agreeing on how to attack.

Finally the definitive moment arrived when everyone knew that they had lost, Jack Drake was bleeding profusely from a bite on his neck, very close to the artery that could still become lethal if they did not escape to his lair and treat it quickly.

Tim prepared to flee.

However, he was surprised and shocked when his mother held him between her jaws (it had been a long time since either of his parents carried him like a puppy) but the stupid and sudden hope that he was being carried to escape died quickly and violently, when she gathered momentum and threw it Tim at the furious body that was running after them.

His terrified shrieks were mixed with furious roars, but he soon stopped spinning and ended up in the front paws of a huge wolf, whose angry face quickly changed into utter confusion and horror.

Confusion and horror reflected on Tim's face.

At no time did he stop hearing his parents running.

The cub dropped to the ground frozen in terror. He was being completely dwarfed by the huge figure looming over him, mere inches from Bruce Wayne's fanged jaw.

His head alone was the size of half Tim's body.

He was dead.

He couldn't control the submissive squeaks that left his muzzle, at the same time his scent gave off the stench of fear-dread-help that he knew would get no response, after all, it was his parents who put him in the path of imminent death, for a chance to escape the righteous wrath of an alpha dishonorably attacked on his turf.

He couldn't stop.

Moans of terror mixed with ragged hiccups as he froze on the ground with his belly completely exposed, if he was lucky he would be killed quickly and he wouldn't have time to feel pain. But he knew of packs that liked to make examples of trespassers on his territory and scatter the remains of the slaughter on the borders to warn subsequent invaders of what awaited them.

In wolf above him he seemed to snap out of his confusion by looking Tim up and down, he wasn't growling anymore, but his back still had bristles and he was looking everywhere angrily.

"puppy"

Tim jerked at the call, whimpering louder. He felt the alpha's wet nose rest on his belly and sniffed hard, sneezing at the strong stench of his fear. Several minutes passed as the older wolf sniffed and licked at Tim's bristly fur, until the pup stopped whimpering and lay as still as a corpse.

“shock…” he heard a voice whisper, but everything was far away, as if covered by layers in which sound and sensation bounced.

His world spun once more and he found himself with his feet on the ground as a powerful jaw clamped down on the back of his neck. He wanted to howl, but the dangerous sensation of fangs in one of the most vulnerable parts of him (although he was all vulnerable, cubs are soft and weak everywhere) stopped him.

He feels the wind in his fur as the huge wolf runs with it in his mouth and soon he can hear howling calls.

Oh, the Wayne pack is calling the patriarch of him. The wind probably carried the scent of battle into the lair and they all rushed out to support their leader.

Oh, they were going to eat it.

He hears a hurried trot and is dumped on the ground. He's sure there's frantic conversation going on between the pack members, but all of it escapes him in the paralyzing sea of terror. There are so many different smells, scared, angry, confused and sad, and finally they come running back to pick it up until they come to a hole at the foot of a huge mansion.

Tim tries to take one last look at the sun, but too soon he finds himself being led into what is obviously the pack guard. He feels that he is being left in a warm and soft place and he cannot understand why. A strange nose sniffs at it and they move it by nudging it with their snouts. The cub doesn't respond, his strength leaves him and he lets himself be led into the darkness without putting up a fight. If he's lucky he won't wake up to see the punishment he's going to receive.

Chapter Text

Tim felt it to the bone.

Desperate, he opened the door of the house and tried to run and get last minute help. He screamed and howled in terror, for the first time not caring who heard. It could be Batman or a villain and Tim would have been just as happy if they came to him. But the Drake estate property stretched for several miles, not as far as Wayne Manor, but enough that a car would have to be used to get from the gate to the exit quickly.

He had hoped, he swore he had saved his hope until the last minute, looked out every window of the lonely manor, checked his parents' flight itineraries, they knew, they knew, they knew, they had to get back. The pack bonds between his parents and him were as thin as spider web and had just been broken.

Everything started to become distant.

No, no, no, no, no... NO!

The cub tried to grab the threads of his consciousness, of his humanity and pull them together, but it was like trying to gather the feathery seeds of a dandelion after blowing it out.

He shouted one last herd call, and then it was all erased from his mind.

The boy who once cried and screamed became absolutely silent, his eyes became distant, without the sparkle of human intelligence.

Inside his brain, all thoughts were reduced to his most basic instincts.

To survive.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The Bat-Signal lit up the ever-blackening Gotham's sky. Batman and Robin, looked up at the call and rushed to the roof of the police station, leaping across the rooftops and terraces of the soot-soiled buildings of the city they were protecting.

Contrary to popular belief, the Bat-Signal is not used that often, almost always the channels of communication with the police station are sufficient and in reality, it is only turned on during the most immediately urgent cases. Namely, the escape of the Joker (getting him back to Arkham in the shortest possible time is a urgent necessity), and emergencies of similar level of danger, something so urgent that it needs Batman and Robin to drop everything they are doing to help.

From a couple of rooftops earlier, Jason can see Commissioner Gordon fidgeting and shouting and the officers accompanying him with similar irritation and desperation. His heart races, it must be serious enough for the always calm Commissioner Gordon to be so visibly irritated.

Batman lands quietly as usual and moves towards the cops, Jason lands only seconds later, more energetic.

“Batman, good to see you," Gordon says, motioning them both over, he has a folder in his hand which he quickly hands to them as if  the folder  burning him.

“Hm...”

At first glance it's not much to look at. Some dead animals, which seem to have been torn apart by some small animal.

“I know it doesn't look like much” Gordon says  “about a month ago they started reporting around Bristol and Burnside, dead birds, squirrels and other half-eaten critters, overturned garbage cans, nobody cared about it... then someone managed to take a picture of... whatever was killing the animals...”

The photo is blurry, probably taken with a cheap cell phone camera, but it's good enough that the crouching, bristling form at the bottom of an alleyway, halfway into a trash can is quite distinguishable.

It's a child.

Well... more of an animal than a child.

The clothes he's wearing are clung in him only for the powers of God, dirty shorts and a polo shirt that was once blue.

His hair is long and greasy, and every inch of his skin is covered in a layer of grime. Even some of the dirtiest hobos in the city would struggle to match the filth the boy seems to be covered in.

But what catches your attention most is the unnatural pair of blue eyes staring into the camera.

"a teenage garbage thrower saw the kid rummaging through the alley on Burnside" Gordon shakes his hands "tried to scold him, but he showed no recognition, just growled and charged at the kid to get away."

"this..." Batman continues to look at the pictures

"more people started to meet him and took the rest of the pictures of him, though no one has managed to catch him... Batman... we're sure that puppy has gone wild."

Jason couldn't hold back the scream of horror, Batman did, but only because he replaced it with a growl.

A feral puppy.

The pack dynamic isn't just about shit and giggles. the alphas, omegas, betas and pups not only had their individual functions for the functioning and harmony of a group, the pack as a whole had its own function as well.

Pack bonds help to maintain the minds of the pack members. The first thing a person has to do when giving birth is to scent their puppy and claim it as a pack. Otherwise, its mental development could be affected and truncated. Puppies learn to feel emotions through the pack bonds and the feelings reflected in them, they learn to socialize, think and finally as they grow up they learn to add their own emotions to the bonds and basically, be human beings.

An adult without a pack can last quite a long time before their thought process is truncated, in most cases they don't even become feral, although obviously their mental health deteriorates and they become unable to control their emotions and feelings, suffering abrupt mood swings or not being able to control their anger. With sufficient treatment and being integrated into a pack they can return to normal without repercussions, but even that doesn't happen often.

A pup, on the other hand... NEEDS his pack. Without their herd, their conscious thoughts fly out the window and they are reduced to small animals with only the need to survive in their heads. Speech, thought, the ability to know what is good, bad or harmful to himself and others is suppressed from the conscious brain.

The only way for a child to reach that stage is for its herd bonds to be severed.

"neither our people nor bystanders who see him have been able to catch him, and we need to help him Batman."

Gordon scrunches up the bridge of his nose and looks ten years older.

Once the meeting is over the first thing Batman does is call Nightwing and Oracle for an emergency meeting.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

She tosses another piece of jerky into the alley, toward the boy-thing that grunts through the bushes.

He doesn't stop hissing even as he reaches out and shovels the food into his mouth with the speed of a starving man pup. Not that Steph has any food to spare, but the news in Gotham is flying and now everyone knows about the wild child running through the city's alleys, the reward for catching him, and how desperate Batman and the police are to catch the boy so he can get help.

She's quite aware that she can't actually catch him, that's not what she's looking for, she's... trying to bait him. Maybe if she keeps feeding him he'll stay long enough for help to arrive.

God, it breaks his damn heart to see the kid like this.

He had lost the shirt he was wearing before and was now only in shorts, the smell he was giving off would give them competition in the sewers, and who knows what diseases he would have gotten from eating Gotham's filthy, horrifying stray animals. Steph hopes with all her heart that she hasn't stepped on some drug needle and gotten infected with some STD or worse.

She tosses another piece of jerky a little closer and the boy-thing hesitates.

She encourages it with soft cooing, mimicking exactly the kind of voice that uses with stray cats particularly sullen, while praying to the gods that Batman or the police or someone strong enough will come right then and there and catch the kid.

If she had the money she'd buy one of those sleeping pills and wrap it in the beef jerky, but she's already pushing the limits, using the jerky that she or her mother might as well be eating to feed the puppy.

The puppy-thing approaches with tense, careful steps, crawling on all fours, too hungry to refuse the meat. Steph encourages it, though she is a bit intimidated by the fangs it has apparently developed from its feral state and its long, sharp nails. She tries not to cough at the smell and to stay relaxed.

"Hey!"

Some idiot yells, running full speed towards Steph and the nameless puppy growls loudly and scurries into the bushes, quickly disappearing.

She curses and the guy looks embarrassed, but there's nothing to be done now, the puppy is gone.

Chapter Text

At.... At first everything had been like living in a freaking fairy tale. It was so perfect, all the food they wanted to eat, the best education foster orphans like them could wish for, a kind man as their guardian, an understanding and helpful butler/grandfather, and several amazing big brother figures that looked like something out of a freaking Hollywood movie.

Spacious and personal rooms, a private bathroom (that was crazy, Tim hadn't had a bathroom to himself since before Jack and Janet died), and being able to go wherever they wanted in Wayne Manor.

They felt too lucky to question it.

Tim Drake, son of a pair of businessmen who died in an unfortunate accident trying to grow their company, entering the system after what was left of his parents' wealth was torn to shreds by their relatives. and Damian Al Ghul, son of a Middle Eastern immigrant woman who died of cancer in Gotham. Neither was what was considered foster child material (Tim was too weird, too inquisitive and Damian too angry and abrasive), it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, to be wards of the richest man in the city, nay, one of the richest men in the entire country.

They didn't begin to question until they realized how they were slowly being isolated, how they were convinced to take virtual classes or private tutors until they were "ready" to deal with high society, how they began to feel tired at all hours, to wake up not remembering what they had done all day before, when they couldn't stop feeling watched at all hours and everywhere, when they found themselves cornered to sleep together in the same room, scared of their own shadow.

Perhaps it had been because there was no shouting, no beating or punishment, only the utmost kindness. Dick, hugging them as he told them what his own months of preparation had been like before going to his first gala, Jason, helping them do their homework, catching up on their education, encouraging all their progress and consoling their failures. Cassandra, a constant presence, silent and so absolutely kind in her watchfulness, that they couldn't realize how locked in they were until it was almost too late.

Alfred, a butler/grandfather, incredibly efficient, incredibly kind and although he could be construed as distant But soft, was a fulcrum that Damian and Tim relied on endlessly the first few months they were in the Wayne's care, when they were overwhelmed by his kindness and sudden change of life.

Bruce...Bruce was everything they had dreamed a father could be.

Now as both brothers cornered each other in that stupid abandoned apartment in the worst part of Crime Alley, they couldn't let on how naive and stupid they had been. How they had fallen headlong into the trap of being stupid and hopeful for a better life.

"We need to get out of town" blurted Tim out of nowhere, rummaging through the backpack they had been able to take with them, pulling out a bottle of water and two granola bars "we're not safe here."

He handed one granola bar to Damian, took the other for himself and a swig of water from the bottle, also sharing it.

"we're minors, no transportation service will sell us tickets if we don't have parents"

"I know, I know... I'm... trying to think of something" Tim states with frustration "if we get caught... we'll be dead Dami, and no one is going to care because he's a very rich guy who can just bury us in his backyard and claim we ran away from his house."

They had stayed out of the Wayne's reach for several months, however, it had been impossible to leave the city. Every supply run was a risk of being discovered, so they did it as quickly and discreetly as they could, only once a week, as they slowly tried to reach the city limits.

The days continue to pass and Damian and Tim are growing increasingly tired and paranoid, they are not wanted on the news, they remember that Bruce had made no announcement about their adoption, hoping, he had said, that they would be ready before the life of a celebrity fell upon them. And they had foolishly believed him.

At least they have a couple of small advantages in this whole situation.

Damian scratches his neck and Tim pulls his hand away to check it. The wounds are healing, the two small, almost undetectable punctures. His own marks have also healed and he makes sure every day that they have not been renewed. He may have some reassurance that they are out of the Wayne's reach for the time being, but, but... the fear remains.

They arrive at the abandoned building they have established as their newest home, and lock themselves in.

They take turns sleeping, Tim always makes Damien take the first nap, while he watches over their battered home.

Several hours have passed without any trouble, but when it strikes three in the morning, the rickety door of their current hideout moved. Someone was banging on it and Tim's heart skipped a beat, Damian awoke, immediately becoming alert.

"Timmy, Damian...are you in there?" the loud voice of Jason asked from the other side of the door "come on little birds, get out of there, you've got us worried sick."

"go away Jason!" Tim replies, placing a hand over Damian's mouth, signaling him to be quiet. He doesn't need to give them confirmation that they are together.

"Timmy!" Jason's voice became excited "I'm so glad you're okay! Do you need anything, are you eating okay, little birdie?"

"go away!"

The door swings harder and the brothers pray to all the gods he has never believed in that the door will hold. Although he knows logically that Jason could break down the flimsy walls that guard it, the magic, curse or whatever governs these creatures in the form of rules, prevents them from entering the sanctity of their shelter without receiving his permission.

"open the door Tim!"

Jason's voice no longer sounds amused or concerned, it sounds demanding, it is an order and he expects obedience.

Before he knows it he has his hand on the rotting doorknob.

"No!" he hears Damian shout, and feels a furious thump that makes him wince in pain.

He recoils until he hits a the wall, clinging to his younger brother like a lifeline.

How? How Jason did do that?

"you're tougher than I thought" Jason's cold voice speaks to him through the wall "well, either way, you have to come out of there sometime, little brothers."

"we're not your brothers!" shouts Damian angrily.

The door shakes and Tim would swear the only thing holding it up is that strange magic protecting them. They push themselves further into a corner if possible, as Tim feels like every speck of oxygen his lungs suck in isn't enough. He feels cornered, small as a mouse. Damian is in a similar position, though his face shows a grimace of betrayed anger,  because even though Tim was the most hopeful in what was offered to them, Damian was the one who wanted it the most, a family, a place to call home.

"you are OURS, our brothers, our family, and you cannot escape us, we will not allow it, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

The brothers decide to ignore Jason's tirade from now on. They are not family, Damian and Tim are their prey, they will not make a mistake again and trust these people, as they foolishly had done in the beginning, because of their stupid desire and hope to be loved, they should have known better.

"Tim, Timmy, trust me, little bird, I would never hurt them" Jason's voice sounds sad "they are my little brothers Timmy, Dami, believe us, we love you!"

Tim swallows back a sob and Damian growls, he never thought they would be so cruel as to take advantage of Damian's and his desire to have a family and a place to belong again.

Or at least he didn't think they would keep up the lie even when they had been found out. He has to admit, it was an almost perfect trap, luring people no one cares about to do...whatever they want with them with the promise of a hot meal, a roof over their head and a hand reaching out to help.

Jason falls silent when he doesn't get an answer and the door stops rattling.

The morning comes and feels very bitter.

Chapter Text

It had been a while since Tim had become accustomed to his new body and the place he occupied after being transported from his home world (where he was sure he had died) to the world of his favorite novel "Behind the Gates of Wayne Manor" a novel of drama and tragedy that had had Tim addicted to each new volume published.

Having transmigrated (they say transmigrated or reincarnated, Tim has no idea) into the world of his favorite novel, it was like a dream come true, he would get a front row view of all the drama, betrayal and death, and best of all, he, as the son of a viscount who had only been mentioned once throughout the entire novel as a minor nobleman attending a ball, was out of any danger of getting caught up in the total madness that the Wayne family was becoming as the novel progressed.

He had initially spent his time keeping an eye on the novel's main protagonists and counting down the days until the real action began. Bruce Wayne, Richard "Dick" Grayson, Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, etc. Especially after he reached the age of being introduced to society and being able to attend formal meetings and be around the Wayne family.

He soon saw the main antagonist and villain of the novel declare his hatred for Bruce by being severely rebuffed and rebuked at one of the balls where he bragged about his business in the slave trade. The Villain, a slave trader named Jack Napier, had muttered a vow of revenge and left Wayne Manor.

Everything was starting to come together.

Tim...Tim didn't know what he was doing was wrong.... until the day came when Jack Napier kidnapped Jason Todd, Duke Wayne's youngest son and took him to the outskirts of town.

Then it all came down on him like a bucket of ice water.

He was waiting for the moment when a person was going to be killed - as if it was entertainment - and it might have been at one time, but that was when it was all fiction on paper for the moments when he wanted to de-stress from work in his former world.

As he rode one of his estate horses fearlessly racing to the edge of town, where he was sure Jack Napier, soon to be known as "the Joker" was torturing and beating Jason.

In the novel, the villain would manage to kill Jason and escape and his grief-crazed father would begin a spiral of madness and despair that would begin to drag everyone around him down. The madness and pain for the death of his youngest son would make him become a cruel and dark tyrant in search of revenge, and unable to catch the elusive villain, he would begin to punish crime in an increasingly extreme way, returning to those ancient punishments already lost such as cutting off the hand of a thief, whipping, the stocks, the gallows and witch hunts.

Dick and Barbara would try to stop it, but they would be betrayed and framed for Jason's death by some traitors, making the couple look as if they had orchestrated that whole debacle so that Jason would die and Dick would be the only Wayne heir, since by marrying Barbara he had stepped out of the line of succession.

If Duke Wayne had been in his right mind, he would have realized that his eldest son would never have done such a thing, but in the midst of his grief and madness he sends them to the dungeon, where Barbara ends up losing the baby that was on the way and her legs are paralyzed and Dick swears revenge against his father.

All this would happen without them realizing that the witch Talia Al Ghul had been pulling the strings and had used black magic to resurrect Jason and send him on a revenge run because he supposedly had not been avenged (the Joker's slippery leech had not been caught), all to eliminate all possible competition so that her son Damian (produced by an attack on Bruce when they met in their youth) could usurp the dukedom and the Al Ghuls could take over Wayne's land and influence.

At the end of the novel, Dick Grayson had to kill both Damian and Jason and Bruce to end the madness and go live in exile with his wife, all without the real culprits paying for what they did.

It had been so exciting when he read it! But now that he was living it, Tim was horrified to learn that he was entertaining the madness and death of a family that had done nothing to deserve it!

He knew that if he stopped to inform the Duke of Wayne where his son was being held, they would be too late. So he ignored the search patrols and rode alone to the barn on the outskirts of town, got off his horse and approached with as much stealth as he could force his teenage body to do. Inside the structure, he could hear Jason's screams and the laughter of the Joker, who was muttering in the midst of the beating what a good slave he would have been if he didn't have to kill him.

Hurry, he needed to do something!

He grabbed a loose brick and slipped through a hole in the wall. The fucking slaver was too amused with Jason to notice the shadow lurking in the distance and as the creep raised the steel bar to deliver the final blow, Tim leapt at his back and put all his strength into striking the monster's hundred, causing it to fall, heavy and inert on the cold barn floor.

Gods... he had just fucked up the main antagonist!

He took another good swing to make sure the Joker stayed down and moved towards Jason Todd Wayne, to make sure he was still alive.

Fortunately he was.

The injuries were severe, signs of past torture at the hands of that horrible being, but Jason was breathing, halfway to unconsciousness. His eyes were blurry, but Tim knew his life was not in danger. In the novel, he had actually died from smoke inhalation, after the Joker had burned down the barn where he had tortured him.

Jason was a character who had been characterized as being made of the hardest possible wood. He had risen time and time again from the most fucked up circumstances possible, and if it hadn't been for the magic of death and Talia Al Ghul's manipulations, he might have gotten his happy ending.

He'd be fine.

He used a piece of rope to bind the still unconscious Joker's feet and hands (as much as he liked to cause pain, he was actually incapable of taking it, the cowardly asshole this one), hopefully, he wouldn't break free until Bruce Wayne got his hands on him and then it wouldn't matter much anymore.

He stapled Jason's major injuries and stopped the bleeding he was capable of. Then, when he could feel the ground shaking with the hooves of the Duke's guard's horses, he quickly slipped out of the barn and ran to his own lonely house, where he would remain in hiding for the next few days.

He had been involved enough with the novel's timeline. It would be best if he stayed out of it. After all, there was no reason for the Wayne family to notice him, a minor nobleman who by all accounts would never get their attention.

He didn't know how wrong he was.

Chapter Text

"uhhhh..." the Demon King's confused and shocked gaze was fixed on Tim and his group, and on either side of his throne of terror, his closest generals and his son, standing erect in battle stance had an identical look on their faces. Tim hadn't said anything out of the world... he thinks. He doesn't understand the reason for their reactions "you want to what?"

"join your army, sir" Tim said respectfully, because if his parents had taught him anything it was that first impressions when you were trying to get a job or a deal were vitally important. 'it's a once in a lifetime opportunity' his mother once said 'you either get it right or you don't, there's no in between' and he was determined that he and his group would make an excellent first impression.

"what the fuck?" one of the demon king's generals exclaimed. If Tim's information did not fail him, it was the great Red Hood, a demon of devastating might characterized by his blood red helmet to match his three long, perfect demonic horns, one on each side of his head and one on his forehead, indicating his lineage and power. The more numerous or bifurcations a demon's horns had, the greater his power. Needless to say, most demons were born with only one horn in the center of their forehead. "are you fucking kidding me!!!?"

"no, sir" replied Tim politely "we want you to hire us into your army, we know there are openings."

That stops Red Hood's anger in its tracks, who shakes his head in disbelief pointing at them with both hands in a gesture that clearly says 'can you believe that shit?'

Rude.

"we have skills that could be of use to you" continues Tim as it doesn't look like the demon king will be speaking anytime soon and will use every minute of leverage to stress what a good idea it is to hire them "we are a very skilled and capable team, as we proved by sneaking into your castle undetected by any of your generals, we are stealthy, we are very well coordinated and are quite good at accomplishing objectives, plus, our mission success rate is hovering around 97%" then, he gives a nice business smile, just like his father taught him 'make sure you let the other know that listening to you is a good idea' 'nothing sells better than a confident and trustworthy smile, son'.

Look at his team, Cassie, Kon and Bart, who mimic his sales smile as best they can. Cassie actually is the leader of the team, but she knows that among all of them Tim is the best bargainer of the bunch, being the son of merchants will do that to you. If anyone can convince the demon king to hire a group of former human heroes it's Tim.

He looks around the room, holding the smile for each of them. To the right of the throne are General Nightwing, second in command to the demon king, and a demon with a blue tail and four spectacular horns, not very large, about the size of two phalanges of Tim's fingers, spread out on either side of his head. The demon gives him a confused, hesitant smile in return, but that's progress.

They are not big horns, but what counts with demons is quantity, not size.

Next to Nightwing is the only blood son of the demon king, Damian. He is the only one whose name he knows, since he is too young to earn a title.

To the left of the throne is Red Hood, with his aforementioned three horns, looking dismayed and suspicious, as if he can't believe what Tim is saying. It will be hard to convince, but Tim can do it.

Next to Red Hood is Black Bat, the only female general of the demon king so far (according to reports, a female demon named Steph is soon to be promoted to general) but by all accounts she is the strongest general, she has three perfect horns, each with two forks. That means she was initially born with three horns, but attained so much power that her horns split.

She looks at him impassively and Tim feels a little nervous, as it seems she is looking into his soul. However, he is still confident that he can convince her. He needs to convince them.

Finally, he fixes his businesslike smile on the demon king himself. The most powerful demon ever to walk the earth. He has six spectacular horns spread across his circular-shaped head (like a crown of sorts) and each of them is forked.

The king opens his mouth and looks like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out.

"uh..."

"uh..."

"knock it off Br- your highness, you're making us look bad" interrupts Red Hood, embarrassed "Nightwing, interrogate them!" 

"huh? why me?"

"I think we should just get rid of them, father" replies Prince Damian, haughtily "they're obviously spies... and very bad ones at that"

"we are not spies!" denies Tim immediately "honestly, we came here to find work".

"why!?" asks Nightwing with a face split between reluctant amusement and suspicion.

" money obviously, duh.... " replied Kon and then looked reprimanded when Tim shot him a look.

"ahem" coughed Tim softly, redirecting attention back to himself "what we really want" he said looking at Kon again "are the benefits your army members have" the young wizard smiled again, in sales mode "health plan, a living wage, vacation, promotion possibilities, you know, all the good stuff!"

Again the generals and the demon king look incredibly surprised.

"but don't think of the expense! think of the benefits you'll get, hiring us to work for you!" exclaims Tim, pointing to his group of former heroes "just look at this friend, his name is Bart, and he's as fast as light, imagine having to send an urgent message from one part of the continent to another! Bart can do it in the blink of an eye!, He is the last heir to the magic of the sprinters, there are no two like him, I assure you!"

Tim definitely won't tell them that there aren't two sprinters because they tend to run so fast that sometimes they jump dimensions and never come back... his mother made sure to teach him that "flaws" in the merchandise are never pointed out before the sale is finalized... besides, Bart always comes back. 

Bart smiles friendly and looks blurry for a second, before holding a glass apple in his hand, which only bloom on the glass hill on another continent.

"Look also at a perfect Kryptonian specimen, I assure you that you have never counted one in your army!!!, they have strength and endurance of almost unlimited level!!!, and super powerful hearing for espionage missions, they can hear a heartbeat a hundred kilometers away!" 

Kon smiles, proudly, and gives a thumbs up. 

"Let's not forget about a true daughter blessed by Aphrodite either, honestly, no army can call itself complete, without at least one Amazon warrior in it." Tim shakes his head, as if he feels sorry for any army that doesn't have an Amazon. the key to a good sale is to make the buyer think that they really, REALLY need what they are selling. 

"and not to brag, but the plan that got us to his throne room without us being detected or having to fight any of his soldiers, I came up with," says Tim pointing to his own chest, proudly. "All of us can offer incredible abilities that will benefit your crusade, demon king sir! And all in exchange for the nice benefits you offer to any private in your army, isn't that an incredibly tempting offer!?, Honestly, I dare say it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! "

The demon king seems to recover from his dismay and goes into business mode. Ha, Tim has him right where he wants him.

"And what about your former job, aren't you heroes?"

"Former heroes" clarifies Tim "we're not really in business anymore, sir."

"so what's wrong with the hero business, huh?" says Red Hood with his hands on his hips, contemptuous.

"they don't pay" says Tim, deadpan.

"W-what?"

"we're starving dammit!" interrupts Cassie, even though Tim had asked her to let him talk until they had agreed to hire them "no one told us that being heroes meant living like hobos!"

"..."

"everyone expects us to solve their shit, but they won't give us a glass of water because we're all doing it out of 'our good heart', that's bullshit, I tell you!" snorts Kon.

"man, we've literally killed beasts with bounties in the millions, and no one will pay us a dime because 'we're heroes' and heroes don't do things for money" finished Bart, ruining the sale Tim tried so hard to make.

Now the demon king knows they are hungry and desperate and will follow him like puppies for a bowl of soup. Exactly the same way Kripto, the group's dog who followed them all over the continent after they gave him half a loaf of bread at the beginning of their adventures. They left him at the borders in case things don't go well, they are confident they can escape and take their dog with them. 

All the demon king's generals looked at Black Bat, for some reason unknown to Tim.

"truth" he said that one word.

"well..." the demon king "since Black Bat vouches for you... I guess we can negotiate a little" he gets up from his throne and takes stately steps to a side door "but I think we can negotiate the terms of the contract over dinner, don't you think, kids?"

The four former heroes try not to look too hungry as they follow their new lord and master into the kitchen.

Shit, Demon King he's already got them in the bag.

take that back, their new master is Mr. Alfred, who gave them the most delicious soup they have ever eaten in their lives. 

Chapter Text

When he came home to find a note stuck on the fridge that read "your dinner is in the microwave, love you - dad" He knew something was wrong.

His first impulse was to run.

He ended up heating and eating his dinner, dismissing what happened only as a huge carrot that would come before the proverbial stick, in the form of some over-complicated task he was expected to accomplish.

Then his dad came home from work and he looked exactly as he always did, not a hair out of place, smart and serious and always with his eyes on his company 'never on his son' and for a second Tim thought it was business as usual.

Until his father smiled at him, came over in two big strides and hugged him.

He had to use all his strength to suppress the shiver and fear that came over him.

"How was school, champ?" said the thing that-isn't-his-father with a kind smile that Tim never remembers his father giving him.

"uh... fine, fine" grinned Tim, doing his gut "I got a B+ in math."

His real father would start ranting about how disappointed he was and how he would make a fool of the Drakes, and his legacy and how he could never be more than a McDonald's cashier if he couldn't achieve to the perfection that was expected of him.

"very good, son" said the guy, the thing, his non-father "good job."

They chatted idly about Tim's day, and his non-father told him some stories about his day at the office which Tim listened to with a smile that hid all his terror and when his father offered to help him with homework, he declined with a smile and told him he would ask for help if needed.

Then he walked to his room, forcing calm into his steps and locked himself in.

Leaning against his bedroom door, the teenager tries not to breathe too fast or fall into a panic attack.

That's not his father, that's not his father, that's not his father!

Who the fuck is walking around in Jack Drake's skin?!

What can he do to get his father back?

That night, before he goes to bed, he gets a "good night, champ" and starts looking for options.

Days go by.

Tim is no closer to finding out what the hell has taken over Jack Drake's skin and his "father" is still...nice. 

But he can't say he's not afraid anymore.

He's terrified and more than once he can hear strange noises coming from his father's room as if... as if... as if he's taking off an article of clothing.

He's thankful he wasn't home when whatever broke into the mansion put on his father's skin. He's thankful for that, because he can't imagine it was nice and sometimes his overactive mind imagines hypothetical scenarios about how the creature made a meat suit out of his father and where it dumped Jack's flayed body and his heart races and he has to listen to some random podcast at full volume to try to redirect his mind from thinking of increasingly violent scenarios and increasingly horrific screams.

Tim, who expects bumps every time his not-father opens his arms to greet him after a day's work, who expects yells instead of his polite 'good night, champ,' 'good job, son,' who no longer has to prepare dinners for both of them in the evenings and hope his father doesn't throw food on the floor calling it 'garbage,' who for the first time since he can remember has his skin free of finger or fist-shaped bruises and can run with the other kids in the school gym without fear of his shirt lifting up.... And he starts to think that's not so bad.

But he's sure that's not his father, he may have the same voice and act almost like his father (except for his unusual kindness), but he's not, there's something hopelessly otherworldly about him.

I wish Jack Drake had changed and thought of him as more than a puppet for his company, a trophy to show off or a punching bag for his frustrations.

It turns out that in order to change he had to be replaced by something completely different.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Tim knocks on the door of his non-father's study nervously.

He gets a "come in" and enters the studio where not-Jack has been working on something for the last two hours. He looks up from the computer and when he meets Tim's eyes, he smiles at him and wrinkles form at the corners of his eyes and he can't... he really can't help but smile back, a little shaky... but genuine.

"Do you need anything son?, come, sit down"

Tim plucks up his courage and dares to do something he never would have done if this were his real father.

He steps forward a bit and sits in one of the chairs usually reserved for guests and wipes the sweat from his hands on his jeans.

"It's going to be my birthday in a little while" Tim says sheepishly, his real father wouldn't mind a 'stupid thing like that' 'that just means it moved forward another year and you haven't done anything important' "and...I'd like to...I'd like to see if I could ask you for a present"

Her father's smile gets bigger.

"of course I remember your birthday, sweetie" he says "ask me for any present you want."

Tim swallows.

"c-can I have a pet? a small one! A Hamster..."

He immediately closes his eyes waiting for the outburst.

'a dirty animal, Tim'?!?'

'do you want to ruin the designer furniture?!?'

'you want to ruin our house by bringing in dirt!!!?'

'you're not capable of doing the minimal things I ask you to do! How do you imagine I think you'd be able to take responsibility for an animal?'

When she hears nothing she risks opening one eye and sees her father for a moment look horribly angry, then smile again.

"n-no, sorry, it was a mistake, forget what I said okay?" maybe pets are his non-father's boundary and he's just passed the proverbial line drawn in the sand "I know it was stupid, forgive me, dad."

Tim is about to make a strategic retreat to his room, when his father quickly reacts.

"no, no, wait son, sit down" he says, suddenly in an insecure voice he's never heard from his father or his non-father "I'm not mad at you, I swear"

Tim turns around, against his better instincts and sees his non-father halfway to his desk, walking towards him.

The hug is unexpected despite having been getting them constantly since that thing got Jack's skin, but it's nice, so nice...that Tim allows himself to relax into his grip.

"You deserve a pet son, of course you do."

"T-thank you dad."

A full afternoon later, as Tim watches the two adorable Hamsters they adopted, running and playing through the tubes of their spacious playpen, he cries.

This is just too good.

This is all he's ever wanted.

What does he have to do to get more of this??!!!!

As much love, attention and care as his parents have never given him. He's angry and sad that some kind of man-eater or whatever that creature is is a better parent than Jack and Janet ever were. Honestly no-Jack could be sugarcoating it to eat him too and Tim would still be trying to get some of that affection.

Tim makes his decision.

He's going to enjoy having a non-father, until the most likely, bitter end.

Chapter Text

Hi friends! unfortunately it's not an update!, but I'm here to post the Monster BatDad series

that I promised in the last chapter! I already published the first chapter, go give it love <3

I was really encouraged by your comments on this particular idea and all that you shared and thought with me! thank you very much to all!, especially to ShinyShammie, who I had a great conversation with in the comments of chapter 11 of this fic, and who inspired me to do this fanfiction! thank you very much Shiny Shammie ❤❤❤❤💕💕💕💕💕💕

link here: Under The Skin

Chapter Text

The news of Jason's kidnapping and torture was the talk of the entire city and kingdom for two months following his abduction and "mysterious rescue".

Voice to voice became truly explicit, the gossips spared no detail about the terrible wounds and disfigurements the heir to the Duke of Wayne had received at the hands of Jack Napier, and such as 'he's unlikely to recover', 'that poor, poor boy', 'the way he was left, he might as well have died', which filled Tim with a kind of protective rage.

These scumbag riffraff didn't know what they were talking about.

Tim may only know him from the novel he read, but he can tell that Jason is one of the strongest people in this world he now lives in. He survived a fucked up childhood on the streets, survived and thrived despite the scorn of the nobles for his lowly background... he even came back from the fucking dead (in the novel, but now hopefully, he won't have to do that).

He was Tim's favorite character in the novel, a true survivor with a good heart, who dreamed of being the Duke of Wayne so he could help people and make his lands a good place to live. He just had the misfortune of being manipulated by someone unscrupulous.

Tim recalls that when Jason last died in the novel at the hands of Dick Grayson, he cried a little.

But now that that's all been averted, he'll grow up to be as great as Tim always thought he should have been in the original novel.

Speaking of the novel...

He knows better than to intervene again. The gods know how much he has already altered the course of history and without that key point, everything is likely to change (Tim hopes for the better). Now he just needs to stay out of it.

He can admit that it's pretty cool not to see the Duke of Wayne go from a stoic, but kind and just man, to a paranoid, bloodthirsty tyrant who closed his heart to any kind of love.

Now all that's left for him to do is live out the rest of his days as Viscount Drake (once he inherits from his parents) probably marry through an arranged marriage and continue to witness the accomplishments and mistakes of this new Wayne family he's made possible by defeating the main villain before he begins his round of merry killings.

"I don't understand why you don't tell them that it was you who saved their son" Says Steph, his maid and best friend (but his parents not finding out the latter is paramount) "if it was me, I would have gone to the Duke to get all the damn money I could get out of his rich coffers."

"and that's why you weren't the one who saved him" Tim chides, but Steph knows he's not serious "it's more trouble than it's worth Steph, I'll tell you that".

His friend hands him a freshly ironed vest which Tim immediately puts on. His parents always want him to be well dressed even if he's just going for a walk in the park. It's awkward and annoying, but today might be the day they get home from their travels and he'd hate to disappoint them if they find him wearing "peasant clothes," even if it's the more big classist bullshit Tim's ever heard.

"I don't see what the problem could be" she shrugs as she helps him with the complicated lacing and buttoning systems on his clothes (he doesn't understand why there are so many things to tie and button, hopefully soon someone will invent invisible seams and zippers).

"you go in, get in his face the favor you did him, ask him for money and come out a rich man...well, richer than you are now, Mr. Viscount"

"is that class envy I hear Steph?" says Tim mockingly "I don't want trouble, I just want to stay out of it."

She snorts, but doesn't press the issue any further, for which Tim is grateful. He simply can't explain to her the complicated mess of entanglements, manipulations and lies that the Waynes delicately balance on in order to make ends meet.

"will you come with me to the market Steph?" asks Tim "I'll buy you something nice."

"do I have to wear the uniform?"

"nah"

"then, yeah, give me a few minutes, I won't be long!"

To tell the truth, Steph was not a servant as such. The nobles have whole families meant to raise children to be servants to the nobles, and they are almost as classist as the nobles themselves.

No, Steph is actually a girl he met on the city docks, the daughter of a woman named Crystal who works in the brothels. Steph tried to steal his wallet while almost breaking his nose with a brick, but after their rough encounter they actually hit it off very well and she taught him how to lay low, reduce his accent so he wouldn't sound "like a snooty nobleman", and he offered to work in his house.

To her hesitation, he simply said "my parents won't even notice, they aren't around often enough to keep an eye on whether the indentured servants have the pedigree they like" and that was that.  

Steph blended in with the servants as if she was just another one and his parents never noticed.

She takes less than twenty minutes to get ready. Her dresses are simple, but nice and clean, and she smiles at him from the doorway of the mansion.

Tim soon joins her and together they walk through the market. In the absence of anything better to do at the mansion (Tim already took his classes for the day and got a head start on his homework) it's always good to wander the market. Even if Tim is wearing fancy clothes, he hides them at least a little by wearing a brown cloak, so it will lessen the number of pickpockets who might try to rob him.

They pass by all the stalls selling all sorts of things (legal and illegal) Tim likes to see what books he can find and curious objects he can find a use for (he already has a spyglass, which hopefully he will manage to turn into a telescope) a few magnifying glass crystals, a couple of old books that Mr. Benjamin saved him from his last merchandise, and Steph now has a nice flower pin decorated with purple crystals.

Even in the marketplace they still feel the novelty of the news about Jason.

"They say the Duke of Wayne's son is over the worst of the injuries" the flower vendor near the fountain whispers to them "the doctors thought he wasn't going to make it, but that boy, if he survived what that sick man did to him, I don't think the remaining injuries will kill him."

Tim nods, agreeing with the lady. No way Jason can die from this.

"I have a friend who has an uncle who has a niece, whose mother works at Wayne Manor, who told him that the Duke is offering a big reward for anyone who can prove he was the one who saved Jason Todd Wayne from Jack Napier"

Tim takes a sharp breath as Steph approaches, smiling.

"Really?" she says tightly "What's he offering?"

"well, besides lots and lots of gold?" smiles the woman greedily "they say he has promised a title of nobility, a villa and lands, and the assurance that, for the rest of his life, the savior or savior of his son will not have to worry about any needs, he would probably offer the hand of his prettiest daughter in marriage, if he had daughters" finishes the woman with a laugh.

Perhaps the rumor is exaggerated, but Tim can't help but think how tender Bruce Wayne's concern for his son is. In the novel he was portrayed as a stoic man, having a hard time showing his feelings through words, and demonstrating his unconditional love through actions, which, although sometimes causing more chaos than good, showed his children of all the love he had for them.

"maybe we should give it a try" says Steph, and Tim knows it's a joke "I could go from being a maid, to being the fiancée of the duke's son" she laughs.

Steph is not greedy, she jokes and jokes about Tim and money, and will accept (mostly) gifts that Tim freely offers her, but she is a simple, honest and feisty person.

"no way, kids" snorts the woman, but she smiles, delighted to have people listen to her gossip a thousand times chewed over "he says he has proof of who saved him, and if anyone manages to guess it, then he'll know his telling the truth. already half the town tried and no one could guess what it was."

Uh...

Even Tim isn't sure what that "thing" is, so he doubts anyone else can guess.

He shrugs and chats for a couple more minutes with the flower vendor, before continuing on his way. Steph accepts the candy he buys for them both from another of the market stalls and they decide to walk around until they are tired and want to go home.

They go deeper and deeper into the alleys.

Tim likes to explore the city even in its less popular and slightly more obscure places. Gotham is a city of many faces, some public, some private, some hidden. There are some abandoned neighborhoods that are mesmerizing.

Steph and he walk confidently, mimicking the way the bodies of the people who regularly live around there shake. Everything about their movements screams 'don't bother me, man' and she has taught him how useful it is to avoid being noticed as outsiders and attacked accordingly.

He's commenting to her about the particular this of church architecture, and Steph is pretending to pay attention to him when they hear a noise nearby in an alleyway, which sounds like a mix between a bark and a scream.

"Shit!"

"they're killing someone" says Steph, suddenly nervous "let's not get involved".

"I think it's a dog, I'm going to look."

"Tim, no!" she protests "I literally told you they usually set these kinds of traps to rob fools around here, what part didn't you hear?"

"oh, come on" Tim creeps stealthily over to where more of those agonized, pained sounds can be heard "if I see it looks dangerous, we'll leave"

"Tim, Timmy, not looking dangerous is the way you're drawn, you fool!" she tries to pull him by the sleeve, but Tim doesn't listen, they finally reach the conveniently empty alley that screams 'trap' but doesn't seem to contain more than a smelly dumpster and a bundle of old rags.

The sound comes from the old rags.

Against all his better judgment, Tim approaches.

There's something... no, there's someone huddled on the side of the dumpster.

"hey...need some help?" says Tim as he reaches out his hand toward the lying figure.

The person whimpers and looks hurt.

"I'm not going to hurt you" he says slowly and kindly, Tim is only twelve years old, somewhat skinny and not a good fighter, but he doesn't hesitate to be soothing to this person "let me help you."

There is another whimper coming from the injured person and he gets up hurriedly and huddles against the wall. It is a woman.

No... woman, it would be stretching the word too far. She looks only a little older than Steph and Steph is only a year older than Tim. She's more like a teenager, skinny and with bulging, frightened eyes, staring at them.

She looks very hurt.

Could she have escaped from a slave dealer?

She has bruises and cuts all over her skin that Tim can see. Her arms are skinny but muscular, probably from a life of hard labor or slavery. His hair is black, a little long but very badly cut, as if it had been trimmed using a knife, his eyes are black and look at Tim and Steph warily, but without fear.

"we won't hurt you" Tim promises, looking at the girl with all the kindness he can muster "if you want, we can help you".

He extends his hand towards the girl, who looks at them silently. His gaze feels... different, as if he can see more in them. As if he's trying to discover their true intentions. Unfortunately for her, Tim has no other intentions than to give her some food, medicine and clothes.

Taking advantage of his parents' absence he has dedicated himself to doing some welfare for the people of the city, he sees no consequence in throwing some money here and there, handing out food and allowing some poor girls to get jobs as maids so that they don't have to resort to prostitution or worse to subsist. What consequences could this have?, all these people are unnamed extras from the novel, helping them should not affect any timeline or anything like that.

"I'm Tim" introduces himself, then points to his side "this is Steph. may I know your name?"

The girl stares at them in silence for a long moment, so long, they begin to feel uncomfortable. Maybe... maybe she just wants to be left alone.

"uh... it's okay if you want to be alone, we won't bother you anymore."

Tim is about to turn away when the girl lets out a protest and grabs Tim's hand, before he removes it entirely. he turns around in surprise and Steph can be heard protesting the girl's rudeness.

But Tim doesn't pull his hand away in surprise, he sees the girl's eyes and notices fear and hope mingled in her gaze.

"Can you tell me your name?" he asks again.

"Cass."

The girl's voice is raspy and hoarse from disuse, and Tim can imagine days and days of forced silence.

God...sometimes he hates this world where slavery is legal in some parts. Damn. That's what no one tells you about traveling to another world, there's cool magic, and all the good stuff in noble novels, but also horrible, inhumane shit like this that's still legal even if it's frowned upon.

He stands up from where he had crouched so as not to be intimidating (he can be intimidating, no matter what Steph says).

"Well, shall we go Cass?"

The girl nods, still wary and fearful, and gets up from the floor. The strong smell of sickness and filth brings tears to Tim's eyes, but he forces himself not to retch. She is not to blame and he won't dare embarrass her. She just needs help and she knows that in a world like this very few people would give her that help.

Tim... wants to be one of those people who provide help.

The girl named Cass walks behind them, staggering, toward what Tim will make sure is a better future than the one she had.

Chapter Text

Tim knew it. Tim knew it from the beginning, his place as Robin, his place as Batman's sidekick had always had an expiration date. That a foolish, hopeful part of him had hoped that date was far off was just his own personal, unsolicited attachment trying to hold on to something that was clearly never his.

Since Batman accepted him as Robin, with a scowl and a look full of distaste and Dick looked at him with a pitying grimace and an almost forced hug, Tim began the countdown.

So what if there were times when he briefly thought he had a place among them? Those occasions were brief and distant from each other, and looking back, it didn't look like genuine affection but mere convenience. After all, you had to compliment a dog and reward him to get him to learn the tricks and keep doing them. And I hated to admit that it had worked so well with him. A hug, a pat on the shoulder and a terse "well done" had been like manna from heaven for a boy who had never had parental approval in his life.

As time went on, he had to learn to do more tricks if he wanted to receive those compliments. He had to be more independent, faster, he had to be able to take more pain and keep moving to prove that he was worthy of standing with the people he admired and who did so much good in Gotham.

To prove that he wasn't a child, he was a soldier, that he didn't need to be coddled every step of the way.

So while other kids were celebrating their 16th birthdays at parties and living out teenage courtships. Tim was busting his head and falling into despair looking for the person who was going to betray his family and make it all fall apart ten years in the future. All as a twisted training for the anxiety that had always accompanied him to turn into full-blown paranoia.

Then Jason had returned and the whole place he had forced for himself, came crashing down like the house of cards it always was.

Jason returned like a storm unleashed from hell, dishing out vengeance and pain on Gotham and on his family. Spiteful that every single thing that happened after his death didn't turn out exactly as he'd hoped, he unleashed his hatred and spite on everything he thought deserved it.

And Tim was at the top of his list.

Even if Jason always talked about not forgiving Bruce for not getting rid of the Joker after he killed him, the truth was that his hatred was stronger for being replaced by a sad pencil copy, as a son and as a vigilante. Even if the older man wouldn't admit it, inside he could understand that Bruce wouldn't kill, not for him, not for anyone. He may not have liked that decision, but he knew he wouldn't change.

But Tim. What Tim had done, was everything he feared and hated.

Being replaced, erased, was what he had hated the most.

And in a sense he could understand it. If he had known Jason was coming back, Tim would never have meddled in Wayne family affairs, he would have respected Jason's place and not forced himself into a role that didn't belong to him, in the name of not letting Gotham's hero go down and take the city with him.

That's why he understood Bruce, Dick and Alfred putting luring Jason back to the family far above his safety. He hadn't even finished healing from the attack he suffered in the titan tower before Dick was telling him they had a plan to lure Jason, the prodigal son, home.

Tim swallowed his fear and smiled in agreement.

Then, for the first time seeing on the horizon that his time in the family was numbered, he had begun to plan.

He stayed away from Jason and ignored his barbs, physical or emotional, in favor of the fragile truce he had built with the family. He ignored his attacks, forgave his faults, and slowly slid to the side to vacate the space Jason always occupied and in which Tim remained sadly small. He offered help, though it almost always ended up being violently rejected by the older vigilante, or grudgingly accepted with a strong warning to "not think it made his existence more tolerable," and he learned to stop shaking when Red Hood was in the cave or the mansion, saving all his childish and annoying reactions for when no one else was watching.

They had come to some sort of agreement in the end.

Tim would stay on the periphery, where Hood couldn't notice him and would only have to worry about attacks and insults if he was noticed.

It was the best arrangement really, Tim was excellent at making himself invisible to others, at not being a nuisance. Disappearing from sight was an art he had perfected long before he became Robin.

Injuries and insults decreased by 38% with that strategy.

The one thing his strategy didn't take into account was that he couldn't choose how many people he would go unnoticed by. Dick, Bruce and Alfred all began to act according to this new rule. If Jason was around, then Tim basically didn't exist, he wouldn't be required to file his verbal reports as is common at the end of patrols, he would just have to write them down and Bruce would review them when he had time and Dick would bring snacks to eat on the rooftops with Jason, while Tim headed home away from his comradeship so as not to irritate Red Hood.

That's why he can't even blame Damian for the final cut in the already tenuous relations with his family.

To be honest, it was almost liberating. Damian took his role very seriously to wake him up from the already tenuous illusion that he had a place in the family. To help him realize that the place he was occupying was his own, and he had run out of time to pretend.

If it wasn't through the far-from-stealthy assassination attempts and undermining of his word, it was through the way the others took him at his word. It didn't matter if Tim had evidence to prove something had happened (in a case or in his life at the mansion) everything had to be double and triple checked before it was considered right.

It shouldn't hurt as much as it did.

But Tim, even if he couldn't trust anything else, he had always been able to trust his intelligence. It was the one thing his real parents had complimented him on. To have it cast into such exaggerated doubt, as if he hadn't solved Batman's identity at nine, or solved cases that Bruce himself had had to give up, was fucking awful, like having the part of himself he loved the most ripped out of him, and shredded in front of him like a sheet of paper with failing grades.

That's when he started planning his retirement.

But he had to be realistic, even if undesirable and a constant thorn in the Wayne family's side, he was useful.

His percentage of solving cases was the highest among all and his daytime support at Wayne Enterprises was necessary if not mandatory to provide the mission with enough funds to keep fighting. Even if Bruce and the others didn't want to admit it, Batman and company were an illusion built on money.

Neither Batman, Robin nor Batgirl, Red Robin and the others could have existed without the almost limitless coffers of the Wayne family fortune. Not for nothing are there many children who watch their parents die in front of them (especially in a city like Gotham) and only one became a night fighter. If Bruce Wayne had been a middle-class kid instead of the billionaire everyone knows, at most, he could have become a cop.

It is because he is aware of his usefulness that Tim knows he will not be allowed to retire. Maybe as Red Robin, as long as he continues to provide tech support on cases, but odds are that at the first Arkham escape emergency he would be forced to suit up and help, making him feel guilty for the number of lives that could be lost if he remains out of the suit when he's needed.

But as Tim Wayne, he's pretty sure he won't be allowed to leave his post. Bruce now has all the time in the world, day and night to devote to being Batman, the one thing he's always wanted, to spend his days and nights in his own little soup of misery called Batman. The lauded and adored number one detective in the world, a position that gives him more power and control than being Brucie Wayne. Tim being the new CEO of WE is simply too convenient to be allowed to leave.

Even if they no longer want him as family, they want him as a tool.

He thinks about faking his death, but, in a world like this where every so often there is a collective resurrection of various heroes or villains for random reasons, they will always expect him to come back. He won't be able to escape without completely changing his appearance and he doesn't want to give that up when he's already given up everything else, his body is the only thing he has left.

Even with those thoughts, he can't help but try to prove that he is useful, that he should be allowed to be inside or at least around the family. Searching for Bruce who is lost in time is just his last attempt to prove that he is worthy, if not to be called a son, at least an ally.

But when he finds that machine while navigating Ra's Al Ghul's facility, his entire plan simply goes sideways.

Tim is no stranger to the multiverse, they've had a few visits from versions of different superheroes and villains from other dimensions, not too many that it's common, but not so few that it's considered impossible. Their universe is not interested in traversing other dimensions, so multiverse technology was stagnant.

Those plans for a multiverse travel machine found in some of Ra's Al Ghul's archives had been obtained by the capture of a multiverse traveler who... well, had had the secrets of inter-universe travel extracted from him.

Tim wasn't quite sure what he took them for, but he knew he had to.

Then, between the widower's attack, the betrayal against Ra's and ambushing his loved ones in Gotham and being kicked off a skyscraper, he hadn't thought much about it.

Then Bruce came back and what he thought was going to change stayed the same or worse, Damian was already Robin and there was no place for Tim in that Role, Jason had recovered from his last psychotic break from the Lazarus Pit, but he was still sticking to the rules of Tim being invisible around him if he didn't want to stick to the consequences. Dick was elated at Bruce's return, ignoring what Tim had to do to bring him home, shedding the cowl to become Nightwing again.

And Bruce... Bruce told him "Good job" patted him on the shoulder and then went to hug his family.

Then, as he witnessed the emotional reunion of the Wayne family and stood on the sidelines, the plans for the multiverse travel machine came back to his mind.

It took him months to create the machine on his own. It was good that he had no constant supervision from anyone and could get the necessary parts in total secrecy. Money wasn't a problem, he had all the money he needed through Bruce and Drake industries accounts and no one really paid attention to the expenses as long as they were properly labeled as "mission" related. Because spending thousands of dollars a month on Batarangs and bidarangs? That's perfectly normal, they're basically a collector's item for the kids of Gotham, each vigilante might lose 20 or more of those blades in a single night. Putting an extra zero on the bill won't even be noticed.

Honestly, being Batman, between travel, gas, energy, equipment, nets, etc. Can cost upwards of 200,000 per month.

Once it was complete, Tim didn't really know what to do.

His plan was far-fetched and crazy at best and completely delusional at worst.

What did he intend to accomplish if he left his home universe? To be hunted down? To come back one day and realize he was missed?

Maybe he was just being overly dramatic, maybe he was simply drawing attention to himself and hoping Bruce would show up to scold him for building a multiverse travel machine without his approval. He couldn't just leave it at that, he had responsibilities, lives that depended on his productivity and efficiency both at WE and his night job. It was selfish to want to run away from his responsibilities like a damn coward.

He kept thinking about how selfish and ungrateful he was even as he was packing his things, some money, valuables that were easy to transport and sell, some food and clothes.

'You're selfish, selfish, ungrateful and that's why people don't want you around. If you're going to throw away everything you've worked for at the slightest obstacle why would you think you're worthy of anyone wanting to keep you?'

He didn't stop berating himself as he began to excuse himself from the patrols as he methodically dismantled his nest and safe houses. He didn't stop despising himself as Bruce looked at him with disappointment on his face when he read him a report of crimes committed during the patrols that Red Robin didn't go on that could have been avoided if they had an extra set of hands.

When Jason and Damian taunted him, called him unworthy and a pretender who didn't measure up to the role he was trying to fill and Dick, the uncaring peacemaker would simply smile and tell them 'Tim just needs time to adjust to getting back to work at the pace we're used to after his trip, right Timmy?' and rage and bitter bile flooded Tim Drake's throat and he wanted nothing more than to tear into Dick Grayson's perfect face tooth and nail. As Alfred stood by, he sighed slyly and resumed pouring tea.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Tim wished that traveling through the multiverse had been more dramatic or painful. He wished it had been a sensation that tore the flesh from his bones and tore him apart and reassembled him. Not just a simple flash of light that enveloped him, a feeling of being here and then being there.  Neither painful, nor confusing.

Tim looked at this new Gotham, just as black, just as rotten at the core as his own and breathed its polluted air.

Exactly the same.

At home, the bomb he left next to the multiverse travel machine would see to it that nothing of what he left behind could haunt him. He studied this universe very carefully before choosing it.

It is a universe where Tim Drake was never born.

A universe where the bats didn't have the unwanted interference of their annoying neighbor, always clingy and begging for attention.

A universe where Tim Drake never had to learn to be only what others needed and none of what he himself wanted.

He sighed, free at last.

Then he lost himself in the shadows, looking for a corner to rest his broken wings.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"B. do you hear me?"

"go ahead Oracle" replies Batman's hoarse, tired voice.

"multiversal energy pulse of magnitude 4.7 at Robinson Park."

"copy that, fifteen minutes away"

"ten" responds a thick, street-accented voice.

"five" responds an animated and energetic female voice.

When the girl arrives at Robinson Park, there is nothing but a small patch of burnt grass and the slight ripple that is common of multiversal travel, nothing else.

"looks like our visitor didn't come to establish communications" complains Spoiler "I hate it when they do that."

"we'll need to start tracking and establish if it's a possible hostile" Batman orders.

Just then the Arkham escape alarm distracts his attention. The mysterious visitor from the multiverse will have to wait a little longer.

They have a Riddler to hunt down.

Chapter Text

*clearly a traumatized human child*

Chapter Text

Dr. Woosan, Dr. Isley and Dr. Quinzel, observe from the multiple chambers of the sanctuary how this new dynamic in the  pack of the "Bat",  as they affectionately call the huge alpha of the herd, because of its color and the shape of its wings, is developing.

Dragons are one of the most mysterious creatures in their world, true titans, magical dinosaurs (some less knowledgeable people would call them), who have survived hundreds of thousands of years because of their incredible adaptability and absurd strength.

Even humans, with all their evolution and weaponry, have not been able to take their piece of the world away from them.

They are herd creatures, recognizing the strength in numbers, and are compatible enough that almost any dragon can breed with dragons of other breeds, causing their pups to be born more often than not with the best characteristics of both bloodlines.

However, it is rare for a herd to be composed of so many dragons of different breeds that they are not related at least by blood in one or two generations.

Decades have passed since the first sighting of the huge obsidian dragon affectionately named Bruce and nicknamed "Bat" on the edges of the Gotham forest, and researchers have witnessed over the years, how the herd forms.

First it was just Bruce, always guarding the borders of his territory, scraping the trees, spraying his smoke on craggy rocks, growing from the size of a horse to the size of a pickup truck and then a bus. Then, after a loss of sightings of almost ten years, it had reappeared at the edges of its territory, marking the borders of its territory even harder, but followed by a tiny blue feathery brood under its wings.

All the scientists had been mad about his new brood, making theories about the missing years, and a probable mate or at least successful mating from which the hatchling "Richard" or "Dick" to friends had been born. Observations had ruled out it being an offspring of his own blood, due to the poor resemblance between father and son, for even if he had bred with a blue and winged dragon, Dick must have inherited characteristics from his father.

And Dick looked nothing like Bruce.

Instead of a snout he had a sort of toothy beak, covered in feathers from head to toe and shot electricity instead of black smoke at high temperatures, and in general he was less of a hermit and more of a show-boy, sometimes showing off for the cameras with complicated dances and flights.

It was the first time that non-inbreeding adoption among a dragon species had been recorded. Usually dragons will foster the offspring of their dead pack mates, but up to that point, there had been no record of a dragon fostering offspring that were not related.

They had not expected the action to be repeated, but Bruce surprised them again, adopting a red volcanic dragon hatchling, which the researchers observed entering the huge black dragon's territory, chasing some food. They had imagined that Bruce would chase it off his land on sight or even kill it, only to find it days later, hiding under the black dragon's wings next to Dick.

The scientists had been crazy with excitement to witness something so unprecedented and had even taken the risk of sending Drones and installing cameras to be able to follow this interesting event closely.

Bruce didn't stop at two hatchlings. He adopted any dragon that came his way that was in the breeding age range (adult dragons with ingrained behaviors were shunned, due to the fact that they always ended up trying to take his territory and/or hurt the young hatchlings) and had ended up with a large herd of four males (Bruce included) and two females inhabiting the Gothamite mountains and living their best life.

When Steph had been seriously injured when she had been knocked down by a surprise severe storm, the herd had been by her side, caring for her and feeding her since she was unable to fly because of the injury to her wings and the foundation that had worked to declare the Gotham forest a wildlife sanctuary, had decided they had to intervene.

If they left the dragon as she was, it was very likely that she would not fully recover and would lose her ability to fly, which would decrease her ability to survive by almost 60% and would affect the dynamics of the herd irreversibly. Therefore, for the first time in 40 years since the observation began, they had sedated the dragons and subjected Steph to highly sensitive medical treatment, realigning bones and closing the wound, finishing with antibiotic treatment to prevent infection and rot and immobilizing her wings to avoid damaging the doctors' work.

The veterinary surgeons would have an incredible story to tell their children and grandchildren about operating on a dragon with an entire unconscious herd surrounding them, and the adrenaline rush of knowing that, if any of them woke up, they would all be nothing but food.

The herd had awakened disoriented and weirded out by the new adjustments made to Steph, but after re-marking all the territory that smelled of intruders, it hadn't escalated. Steph was recovering properly, and soon they would be able to remove the brace from her wings so she could begin rehabilitating the limb.

It would never have occurred to them to bring Tim into the bat herd's habitat, if it were not for that accident (in this case good accident). Tim, besides being too different (all the other dragons were carnivorous and flying, and Tim was a non flayer omnivorous dragon) was also very sick and although he had advanced in his recovery, none of doctors had doubts that he would not be able to live in the wild by his own means. While, a dragon is capable of living on its own, it has to be strong and skilled enough to survive all kinds of situations, and unfortunately, Tim had no preparation or advantage for life on his own.

The foundation had resigned himself to giving him the most dignified life they could in a controlled habitat, until that person had made the best mistake in the sanctuary.

Instead of being shunned or torn apart for being a small, sickly, earth dragon, he had been welcomed with open wings into the bat pack after his initial confrontation.

Tim had tried to escape the pack many times, running for the doors of the building and howling at the entrance to run to the only place that had been safe for him.

It had hurt their hearts a little to have to turn him away each time, but they knew that at the end of it all, it would be the best thing for Tim. Eventually, the little dragon had understood that he would not be taken back and had stopped running for the door, resigning himself to being aggressively cared for by his new pack.

The poor dragonet had not understood that his new companions did not want to hurt or eat him, and every interaction they could observe so far was tense, always waiting for a paw or a bite.

Gradually, however, the dragons had made room in his shy heart, showing time and again that they would not harm him. Feeding him lovingly and playing with him gently, seemingly aware of his soft scales and dull color.

Even Bruce had managed to get the little guy to respond by name.

Dragons do not speak like humans, but have been found to identify themselves with specific roars of a certain volume and intonation. Unique to each dragon and that for some reason they all had the ability to imitate. The sound-name of a dragon was something as unique as the fingerprints of human beings.

Now, whenever Bruce or one of the other dragons trilled Tim's song, the little dragon shuffled along with wobbly steps, cautiously, but with less and less fear.

Jason had been especially insistent with Tim's song. Grooming sessions, feeding, or just to snuggle up next to the smaller dragon, the huge red dragon had taken Tim in, after the smaller dragon's initial fear was reduced to just a little trepidation.

Tim had begun to mimic the mimicking behaviors that all hatchlings had, and although he wasn't that young, it was the proper thing to do in his situation. He had already learned to swim (being instinctive for a terrestrial species like Tim) and had tried once or twice to hunt, though he had had little success. Still, it was a far greater advance than the scientists and caretakers at the sanctuary would have expected. If kept in the Bat herd, he was very likely to survive to adulthood.

However, Tim, although he is better fed and adequately cared for by his new herd, has been a bit restless the last few days, he is tirelessly rubbing himself against trees, even though it makes his fragile scales bleed, and his energy is waning between bursts of activity and moments of absolute stillness.

They need to check if there is something going on with their little fucanglong and seek treatment in case it is a life-threatening or life-threatening illness.

For the second time in forty years, all the dragons are sedated, the poor things crawling against each other, trying to fend off an unseen enemy, using their huge bodies to surround Tim and Damian's most vulnerable figures. In the end the doctors have to climb over the sleeping bodies of Bruce and his older sons to reach the center of the pile where Damian and Tim are huddled together.

With time against them, they take blood samples and some loose scales, saliva and venom from their fangs to do a routine check.

As they take one of the looser scales that Tim tore on his last round of scratching, Dr. Quinzel notices something underneath.

She uses a tissue to wipe the dried blood and gunk from the hole left by the scale, then is pleased to note that there is a small hard tip sticking out of the skin.

A new set of scales!

Chapter Text

Bruce, better known as the great Demon King, ruler of all the magical creatures of the earth, finds himself fighting with the greatest of human heroes, the hero of the Sun, Kal-EL. Their battles are legendary, the most powerful representatives of the two races fighting for control of the world, never able to find a middle ground where they can reconcile a peace agreement.

In Bruce's thinking, it is the humans who will not budge one iota, because of some flawed thinking that tells them that they are the "true" deservers of the world and that all others should subordinate themselves to them and pay obeisance.

Ha.

In his dreams.

For Bruce, the world is big enough to accommodate them all.

Fists and magic spells clash and devastate the place they have chosen for their battle, a secluded wilderness where there will be no innocent victims (it is something in common that Bruce and Kal El have, to keep destruction away from civilians).

However, something eats away at Bruce's thinking, making him unable to concentrate on the battle. It's been almost four months since the group of young hero deserters (children, all of them, adorable little super-powered kids) arrived at his castle begging for work and drooling over a bowl of soup (in his defense, Alfred's soup is spectacular) skinny, raggedly dressed and neglected.

Their poor new children that humanity had exploited without rewarding one bit of their hard work in defeating monsters, clearing dungeons, finding lost relics, catching criminals, and many other things.

But... they had said that they had not been the only ones.

That virtually every human hero in the world lived in similar conditions.

He dodged another punch from Kal El and examined his opponent more carefully than ever before. Kal El always wore armor that was a relic of ancient heroes, so not much of his body was uncovered when they fought, but now that he looked... the armor was loose in places.

Oh, no, not to misunderstand, Kal El was still a mountain of muscle, but there were some details that spoke to the fact that the comfortable life Bruce had imagined he had as the most acclaimed hero in the human realm might not be so true. Dark circles under his eyes, pallor that was unnatural for humans, a sort of discomfort that came when someone wasn't being well cared for.

"You are distracted Demon King" exclaimed the hero, who was too polite to take advantage of the situation, he always said that his battles had to be with both of them in their best condition. Kal El was that honorable.

"I've had things to think about...things about human heroes."

"What things?" says the hero, suspiciously.

"Their living conditions, for example" blurts Bruce suddenly and Kal El jumps a little in surprise "tell me Kal El... are you hungry?"

Bruce expected rejection, he expected anger from Kal El for insinuating that he lived so poorly that he couldn't feed himself well and was flatly rejected.

He didn't expect...

He didn't expect the blush that consumed the entire face of the greatest hero of all humans, burning red, and Kal El, for the first time since they'd met, avoiding looking him in the eye.

No.

It can't be.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Red Hood stomped around the castle angrily.

How come no one could see it?

They were being tricked!

Those wretched human heroes (Jason doesn't believe for a second they're retired) played the starving orphan act and Bruce like the soft hearted fucker he was couldn't resist their sob story and adopted them immediately.

But Jason is not an idiot!

He's going to unmask the true intentions of that quartet (well realy a quintet, because the first night they spent at the castle, a white  dog snuck into the room they gave the humans and they pretended it had always been there and Damian played along because he loves animals) and he's going to unravel whatever conspiracy the foolish humans have planned to defeat the demons and drive them out of their lands.

The humans are selfish and greedy and Jason will not trust, regardless of their lies.

He walks past "Timothy" and growls at him, making the human jump. Although he wants to stop and shake that human by the scruff of the neck until he confesses his true intentions, he continues on his way to find Bruce. This time his father has to listen to his reasons and at least investigate better the group of human heroes he decided to adopt.

He has made a detailed list of all the inconsistencies Jason has been able to detect in the stories of these damned human children and he will make Bruce listen to him, if it's the last thing he does.

1. They supposedly left home at age ten to make their own lives until they found each other and formed their team.

Ha, if that's true, Jason will eat his own damn horns. Everyone knows that at that age humans are little more than offspring, he can't believe there are parents so cruel that they would kick their kids out of the house when they haven't even traded their milk fangs for perms yet.

2. Heroism does not pay.

How can they not pay the people who protect their fucking necks? It's fucking logic, protection=reward.

3. They're not allowed to change careers once they've declared themselves heroes. They have to be heroes until their death.

This is so impossible to believe that Jason doesn't know how Bruce could fucking trust them. Supposedly the other humans will never stop considering them heroes, and any work they try to start will be considered part of their heroic labors and therefore unpaid.

Those and more reasons Jason has enlisted to convince his father to throw the suspicious and lying group of humans out before they do permanent damage.

A servant points out to him that Bruce is in the kitchen, which Jason finds very odd. His father doesn't go to the kitchen very often, only doing so on rare occasions, like when the human children came or when he adopted Jason all those years ago and accompanied him to lunch, otherwise he always dines in the royal dining room as a king is supposed to do.

No one can imagine his surprise when he rushes into the kitchen to see not only his father sitting at the table but also Kal fucking El, the fucking hero of the sun, covering his face with his hands in obvious embarrassment as his father offers him food.

"What the  lovey fuck?"

The hero shrinks in on himself more, trying to make himself invisible with willpower alone and refuses to look anyone in the face. Bruce keeps putting plate after plate of food on Kal El's side of the table, asking him not to hold back.

"Go ahead, Kal El. Don't worry, we have plenty, so you don't have to hold back, you're not the first human hero I've invited into my dining room."

No.

"What the hell happened here?"

Jason quickly hides the list of issues to discuss with Bruce. Something in his chest tells him there is more going on here, if Bruce managed to lure the hero of the sun up to his castle where he would clearly be at a disadvantage if he started a fight, only offering him something to eat.

"Jason, will you please bring here Tim, Kon and the kids to the dining room, Kon is Kal El's younger brother, he wants to see that he's okay."

Jason nods, not knowing what else to say. He does a quick sweep of the castle, grabbing all the humans by the collar from the jobs they were doing. Tim was studying with the scribes (the little shit is smart as hell), Bart was helping to cultivate the corn fields (his speed comes in handy for traversing large tracts of land in very little time, Jason reluctantly admits), Cassie is with the blacksmiths learning the art of forging and Kon helping with the farm animals.

"Did we do something wrong sir?" asks Tim nervously, hanging on Red Hood's shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Jason just grunts in response. Because he begins to admit that maybe the human heroes' permanent nervousness is not out of fear of having their cover blown, but of losing their "jobs" (the fools haven't realized they didn't sign an employment contract but an adoption permit).

He takes them all into the kitchen where Kon is shocked to see his big brother, and eventually jumps in for a hug.

"Damn Kal, every time you told me I shouldn't be a hero I thought it was because you considered me unworthy...not because of...that!"

"I tried to give you a warning" says Kal, Embarrassed.

"nice warning asshole, I almost starved to death" the younger brother punches without much aggression at the older one. "but fuck Luthor and his stupid law, I'm staying here to work, shit".

"Luthor's law?" asks Bruce, curious and Jason focuses on that statement as well.

"The Luthor Family has been the rulers of our kingdom for many centuries" says Tim and all the other humans in the room nod "but many years ago a hero was so loved by all humans that they wanted to declare him king, which meant the Luthor's had to lose their royal status. And they didn't like that. So they pulled a law against "heroic greed" out of their balls because according to them heroes were losing their way, due to only focusing on rewards for their deeds"

"I mean, it was happening" Clark interrupts "some heroes at the time were focusing on amassing wealth in return for their help, but not all of them and none of them were doing wrongs to anyone, just, you know, wanting to have the comforts of wealth after being born into poverty"

"but the Luthor's took advantage of that to blame the heroes for being greedy and wanting to take away the right to the throne that the gods had bestowed on their family" continues Kon, spiteful "so they decreed that no hero from that time forward would be rewarded for their efforts, that only their thanks should be good enough in return for their exploits"

"and having the throne of the human kingdom is a reward" growls Cassie "so obviously the hero of the story couldn't be declared king, the Luthor's kept the throne and since then all of us who want to do something good have to live in poverty or be imprisoned for our supposed greed"

"the way I see it" snorts Bart "the only humans who have the blessing of the gods are the Kryptonians, the Luthor's have never been blessed by the gods to reign, not like Kon, or Kal, or Kara"

 It was true. the Kryptonians were humans who at birth had been blessed by the god Krypton, an ancient god of protection and loyalty who bestowed his powers on humans with pure hearts, dedicated to the protection of his people and the defenseless, there were no other kind of humans who had blessings of that kind.

"maybe" says Jason, doubtful. His world has just been rocked with these dramatic revelations "are the Kryptonians the true heirs of the human throne? The Luthors could have usurped the throne in the beginning."

"hum..." Tim puts a hand to his chin and thinks "if that were true, it would be nice if a Kryptonian was on the throne. It would be a lot fairer on taxes, on heroes, and people wouldn't be afraid of being accused of treason for any perceived slight by those idiots"

"have you seen that idiot Lex Luthor?" snorts Kon "he's wanted to lock Kal and all the Kryptonians and heroes in the dungeons because we refuses to serve as his personal extermination soldier, supposedly Kal owes him loyalty as humanity's greatest hero"

"all of us heroes have escaped by claiming that being his personal guard is too great a reward and none of us want to be 'greedy'" snorts Tim "you should see his face every time one of us excuses ourselves with that argument"

Everything that is happening is an absolute revelation to the demons. Both Bruce and Jason are absolutely shocked that basically humans are under the tyranny of a greedy human king who accuses others of their own sin. They had assumed that humans are run with a form of government similar to that of the demon race. A patriarch/father of all demons, who takes care of his entire species as best he can, but apparently that's not the case....

"I have to go and do something, you guys keep talking" interrupts Jason running for the door.

Everyone watches as Red Hood rushes out of the kitchen.

Jason runs like hell to the armory. He hurries to put on his helmet, combat boots, armor and cape.

If this bullshit about luring heroes with food is true, he has to put it to the test.

And who better than his rival, human hero Roy Harper, better known as Arsenal.

They've been battling each other since they were both little kids, when Arsenal was Speedy (Green Arrow's apprentice hero) and Jason was Robin (the first title all the demon kids share before they each make a name for themselves).

Roy Harper is his greatest rival and enemy, he's someone Jason has always wanted to defeat. He's the human who has a streak of sarcasm a mile long and wicked humor...and he's also the human Jason has had a crush on ever since he didn't see Jason as anything less when a crazed demon named Joker broke all three of his horns and snatched them away.

He'll never forget when Harper gave him back one of his horns, which he found on the black market during one of his missions as Arsenal.

He uses the most powerful teleportation spell in his arsenal and barely has time to reach the courtyard before he can drag half the palace with him on his journey.

He appears in the middle of nowhere, next to a log cabin where he knows Harper is resting.

"HARPER, COME HERE YOU STUPID HUMAN BITCH!"

The door of the cabin is kicked hard by a red boot belonging to Roy, who aims his magic bow at him.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT YOU PIECE OF DEMON SHIT!?, TODAY IS NOT THE TIME FOR OUR SCHEDULED FIGHT!!!"

 Jason dodges the arrows fired at him, deflecting them with his blood swords.

"ARE YOU HUNGRY, YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!?"

"I'M STARVING YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!"

"COME WORK FOR THE DEMON KING, WE HAVE FOOD AND DENTAL PLAN!"

"WHERE DO I FUCKING SIGN?!?"

"wait, seriously?" all the fighting fire escapes from Jason.

"if you're not fucking with me and if my daughter can come too, definitely" Roy replies, losing his anger as well "I need to give her a good life and heroism won't even let me buy her a new dress!"

He points with his head to the cabin where a little girl with long black hair hides behind the door frame, looking at Jason with distrust.

"sure" Jason says breathlessly "sure, you can both come"

"great" Roy Harper beckons to his little girl who throws herself into his arms "do you want to come in while we pack, we don't have much shit, we won't be long"

"uh... yeah, sure"

Honestly, Jason never imagined it would work. But he's not going to complain.

Chapter Text

After the Joker nearly kills Jason as Robin, Bruce benches him permanently. Jason is filled with rage that Bruce has not killed the Joker despite the things he has done, and Bruce, once Jason recovers sufficiently, sends him to his family's cottage in a distant town to finish his recovering and find some peace.
But Jason knows something else is going on in that cottage, and it all goes back to that strange, exaggeratedly realistic dollhouse that Bruce's grandfather, Arthur Wayne had built.
He'll figure out the mystery, becauseno matter what Bruce says, he's still a bat!

Chapter Text

When Tim had run through the forest, fleeing from his pursuers and straight into her domain, it had been a desperate move. He was well aware that it could have ended even worse than if the angry mob had caught him and returned him to the hands of the lord and lady of the castle to be punished and executed.

She was the undisputed ruler of the forest, mistress of the entrances and exits of her domain and everything in that place. That Tim had put himself of his own free will in her hands could end with Tim becoming just another tree decorating the forest; end with his organs replaced with wood and sap and branches growing out from all over his body until he ended up as a tree with a wailing face carved into its bark, like so many before him.

He reached into his leather pouch and pulled out six gold coins (one for each hand and two for each eye) as well as the most expensive stone of his stolen treasure (a ruby the size of his palm) and left them all in the deep, black hollow in her chest (or what Tim thought was her chest), being very careful not to let his hand brush against the splintered edges.... or anywhere at all. Her parched, brown face leaned toward Tim, her hollow, dark eyes examining him as she breathed out words Tim didn't understand. Dark, ominous whispers that were the only sound in the forest except for the human's breaths.

"Allow me safe passage. Allow me to get to a place where I will be safe, a place to rest where I will not be harmed."

He repeated his prayer again and again and again, hoping his pleas would be answered. He thought he heard the baying of hunting dogs and shuddered loudly, remembering how close he had come to being captured by the castle servants and guards before the forest swallowed him up and separated him from the group. They had probably all had to turn around and go back to the castle with their tails between their legs; too scared of the forest and what lives in it, despite the rewards they would get for his capture.

He shakes his head again, keeping his mind from going down the thought spiral of what might or might not have been had they caught him.

She straightened her posture, turned her lifeless face away from Tim's and pointed with her long arm to two paths that suddenly stretch out. One bearing the prints of Tim's bare feet, and another extending beyond the point where she and Tim are standing side by side and stretching out toward the dark horizon.

"Forward or backward?"

Her voice was like birdsong, like wind moving through the branches, like the sound of water cascading down a waterfall and trickling down the stream, and rocks crashing against rocks and trees falling, and the wail of an animal being devoured.

"Let me have safe passage. Let me get to a place where I'll be safe, a place to rest where I won't be hurt," Tim repeated incessantly; unwilling to fall for some kind of trick that would end with him growing branches out of his mouth.

"Forward or backward?"

The creature repeated. Its voice of waterfall and birds and rocks sounded insistent, repeating the same phrase a thousand times in a single second. And with each repetition of Tim's plea, there was a reverberation of echoes of her question.

Some time later, he realized that he would get nothing more. He had to make a decision now.

Forward or backward?

He looked at the path he came from, his bare footprints marked in the mud and leaves, and then he looked at the road ahead of him, which blackened only a few meters ahead, denying him any glimpse of where it would lead him. If he went backwards there might be the death waiting for him that he had escaped from by the skin of his teeth, or maybe not, things were like that with these creatures. If he went forward he would be going into the uncertain, the unknown (maybe death too), but he knew he would be going into something he could not regret.

He thought of how furious the lord of the castle and his wife were, how they shouted and offered prizes and gifts to whoever caught him first, dead or alive. He thought of the hunting dogs, he thought of the arrows and the torches and the angry mob shouting insults and threats.

And he made his decision.

"Forward."

And when he glanced again, the path he had come on, covered by his muddy footprints, had disappeared along with her, the creature made of green and forest.

There was only him left now, and a path he had not yet walked.

He took a breath and kept going.

He kept walking until he could no longer feel his blistered feet, kept walking and walking across the straight path that stretched out in front of him as if he had been possessed. Hunger, fear and pain became irrelevant. Something told him that if he stopped his walk prematurely, then it would all be in vain and he refused to let that happen to him.

So he continued until the blood and pain became irrelevant, and everything went black around him, then he finally surrendering to exhausted unconsciousness.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Fuck, fuck!"

Dick heard cursing from the kitchen of the house and knew Jason was already awake and irritated (nothing new).

Whew, great, the older brother thought sarcastically as he walked into the kitchen and grabbed a mug from the cupboard to pour himself a cup of hot coffee.

Jason scrambled the eggs in the skillet as if they had offended him personally and tossed them onto three different plates along with the fried bacon and toast.

"What's got you so riled up this early, Jaybird?"

Jason grumbled a mimic of Dick's question as he set the plates on the kitchen table, not really answering anything. Dick felt a hint of irritation run through him, but masterfully ignored it. Everyone had been a little cranky the last few days, and Alfred and Bruce had left early to run all the pending errands with the bank and the hospital.

"Brat, if you don't come down now, no breakfast!" yelled Jason loudly, making sure the last inhabitant of the house woke up.

"No need to yell, Todd," said the alluded one as he opened the kitchen through the outside door. Damian was already dressed and ready in his work overalls and rubber boots with Titus right behind him. "I was up long before you two."

The boy placed a basket full of fresh eggs on the kitchen counter and then went to the kettle to make himself a cup. No matter how much he insisted, no one would let him near the coffee before he turned fifteen and had a growth spurt.

"I've fed the chickens and cleaned out the pig sty, as well as milked Batcow," says Damian, pointing to a covered pot on one of the stove spaces.

"Thanks Dami," Dick smiled as he pat the spot on the table that belonged to his little brother, pointing to the plate with eggs and toast with jam. The boy recently started his new vegetarian diet and so far didn’t seem to have changed his mind about meat.

"You're up early, Gremlin," growled Jason without anger, "I thought I'd have to shake out your sheets."

Damian snorted, lifting his chin haughtily, but ignored Jason's statement and dug into his breakfast quietly.

For a moment, all was peace and quiet as the three brothers ate breakfast. But soon it was all shaken with a quiet statement from Damian.

"I saw a homeless person hanging around the woods by the house today."

Jason almost dropped the coffee cup and both he and Dick immediately tensed and jumped up.

"What the fuck?" exclaimed Jason. “Why the fuck didn't you say so earlier Gremlin, where did you see him, did he do or say something to you?"

"We need to call the police," said Dick. "Let's call the police to get him off the property."

"Calm down Grayson," said the boy rolling his eyes as if he hadn't just blurted out some fucking news, "I doubt he wants to or could hurt me."

"Damian, we can't know that!" snorted Jason angrily.

"I'm not done telling," interrupted Damian. "This bum is a kid. About my age, more or less. No need to make such a fuss. He didn't try anything when he saw me, but when I tried to approach him and ask him what he wanted, he ran into the grove."

The brothers both calmed down and didn’t calm down about it. He's still a bum with unknown intentions, but a kid was a little easier to deal with. Probably some street kid who ended up too far away from home for whatever reason.

"He was barefoot and dressed in rags. I saw him sleeping under the old oak tree when Titus and I were taking a walk in this morning because he couldn't sleep. Titus woke the boy up with his barking and when I shone my flashlight in his face he ran before he said anything."

"Jesus fucking Christ," growled Jason, "like we don't have enough shit on our hands."

Dick just sipped his cup of coffee in silence, somewhat agreeing with Jason.

"I'll talk to B when he gets back," said Dick finally, "and we'll call social services if we see him again."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Something was making noise. Tim grunted as he huddled against his backpack and ignored whatever was making noise. It was probably the pigs, because there wasn't a single moment of the day or night when the fuckers weren't making noise to be fed.

He needed to... get up and get to work. God almighty, hallowed be his name, couldn't protect him from the punishment he'd get if he was caught slacking off.

A loud dog bark took away the rest of his sleep and brought him violently back to reality.

The chase!

Tim rolled over, terrified, his heart pound in his chest so hard it ached. He was ready to beg for the mercy of a quick death, but all his words caught in his throat at the sight in front of him.

He should never have trusted her good will.

The fae in front of Tim was small, probably pretending to be a child so that Tim would relax around him and end up more easily entangled in his games. But he was clearly given away by his attire, clean and fine and so different, his dark face without imperfections and bright green eyes full of magic.

Besides, even if he had pretended to be human, the huge guardian beast that accompanied him would have given him away, as would the way he held the light in his hand, as if the sun was merely a prop to decorate himself.

Tim did the most reasonable thing he could think of. Before he could fall for any charms or games from the childlike fae, he ran in the opposite direction.

He had called in a favor and had been abandoned in the fairy lands with no idea how to return to the human world.

Chapter Text

The morning after Jason found them comes slowly. It’s almost as if the sun's rays refuse to come out; with the slowness with which they sneak through the window of the abandoned apartment where Damian and Tim had been holed up for the past week. 

It's the first time since they escaped from Wayne Manor that they've had a confrontation with the family members, and it wasn't what they expected. They expected absolute rage and scorn from Jason, or whoever found them for escaping, for not being accepting of their destiny in silence. They expected to be mocked for trusting them and the possibility of a family like a couple of fools. 

The worried tone and undisguised joy in Jason's voice when he found them had puzzled them. Jason called them as if he had truly missed them, trying to get them to come out voluntarily and "come home" with him.   

But neither had they expected the cold and frightening order they had received to open the door, in Jason's serious, calculated tone of voice, as if he were a general who was not to be disobeyed. For a long moment, Tim had been absurdly tempted to open the door, it had felt right, to let his "beloved brother" handle everything. 

If Damian hadn't been there to talk some sense into him (with that well-placed punch), it was very likely that neither of them would have made it to the next morning. They weren't naive enough to think they could escape a second time if they were caught. 

Once the sun (or what passes for sun in Gotham, a city almost permanently shrouded in a thick, gray fog) comes through the windows, the door to their hiding place creaked and fell to the ground. Both brothers approach, examining the crumbling door and see the outside knob completely bent and crumpled: evidence to Jason's desperate attempts to bend it to his will. The door hinges are broken and the screws bounced on the dirty floor with little rattles. The wood of the door had nicks much like those that would be left by the claws of a wild animal attacking the place that encloses it, or a sign of the real struggle to gain access to the "prize" that was hidden within. 

While Tim surveyed the damage to their now useless hideout, Damian scoured the rooms of the abandoned house in search of their few belongings. The flashlight, some cans of food, the cash they had left after fleeing Wayne Manor— and selling whatever expensive gifts they had been able to smuggle out with them— a couple of changes of clothes (they had to go to the laundromat, all their clothes were dirty and smelly and conspicuous) and not much else. 

"Come on Dami," says the older of the two foster brothers, carrying the heavier backpack. "We need to make a supply run and find a new place to spend the night. If we're lucky we'll make it to the edge ofOld Gotham and we'd only be over the bridge to Burnside, before catching some bus to take us out of the city." 

"It's far." 

"I know," says Tim scrunching the bridge of his nose. "But it's the best chance we've got." 

Damian nods gravely and then they leave their hideout behind. They feel moderately safe during the day. There are no eyes watching them from around corners, no voices calling them out into the darkness, and no Jason or any of the other Waynes knocking on the door of their hideout as they try to force them out. It is to their advantage that they are not publicly acknowledged as wards of Bruce Wayne. There have been no public announcements or rewards to find them and bring them back to the mansion, nor have the police gone crazy trying to find them. They’re just two more statistics. Missing children inGotham are not uncommon. 

They fill up a couple of water bottles at one of the public drinking fountains and pretend to be just two curious kids strolling around the big city together. It works pretty well for most people. 

They do their thing for the next few days and there is no sign of Jason or any others. 

Both are tired and dirty when they find another little hole to spend the night in. The city begins to have fewer cramped buildings and avenues overflowing with cars, announcing that they have arrived in the suburbs of Old Gotham. There are houses that have yards, even if they are just a few feet of yellowing grass and weedy bushes. They find a house that is abandoned, which displays crude graffiti painting the front walls and has a couple of "NoTrespassing" ribbons decorating the door and yard of the property. However, beggars can't be choosers. Once it gets late, they quickly sneak through the vine-lined fence, keeping an eye out for any neighbors making a fuss. 

The neighbors are probably used to a couple of teenagers sneaking onto the property from time to time to have sex or get high, because no one bothers them. 

The place is a total dump, smelling of urine, marijuana and filth. But it has walls, the windows don't have broken glass and the door has a lock on it. They put a lock on the door (for extra security), clean as best they can one of the corners that doesn't have a sour urine smell and split between the two of them a bottle of water, a can of tuna and a packet of crackers. 

It reminds Tim and Damian a little of their time in the orphanage. It's not that they were starved, because they weren’t, but they ate the food that was put on the table without complaint and they were grateful for every bite. It's kind of funny that they got used so quickly to the hearty and delicious meals at Wayne Manor, to being spoiled with things like "favorite foods,", "homemade desserts," candy and knick-knacks that their "big brothers" snuck into the mansion, supposedly avoiding the jealous vigilance of Alfred, who was the one that maintained the strict (but delicious) eating regimen for the whole family. 

It's downright pathetic. 

Tim bites into a cracker hard and swipes it with some water, grumpily. 

"We've been fattened like pigs," he comments angrily, forcing back tears. “How dare they!" 

Honestly neither he nor Damian have been able to get over the absolute feeling of betrayal they've felt since they realized what the Wayne family was really looking for from them. They can't help but blame themselves for stupidly falling into such an obvious trap.Why would a family like the Wayne's want to take in two fosterorphans that no one else wanted to put up with? They could have adopted or taken in cute,easy going little boys, babies that could be raised into high society life until they were a perfect display of elegance and charisma.

But miraculously they had chosen the sullen boy (Damian) who dared to hint in the interview that Bruce might have some kind of non-platonic interest in children, and Tim, the quiet, relatively obedient boy, but who couldn't look anyone in the eye and had fidgety hands. 

Both boys had feared they were being taken in because the Wayne's needed some new toys since the man's children were grown, but they hadn't received that kind of damage. 

It was funny, because Damian and Tim didn't even get along at first. The orphanage had them separated by age so they weren't in the same friend groups. So , when they were fostered, they saw each other as competition. They didn't blame each other for trying to get rid of what they each saw as an obstacle to the Wayne family keeping either of them. They were terrified that the Waynes would find a favorite and discard the other. So, they had each done their best to be the nicest or most obedient, the good, or most suitable to be the one chosen when inevitably that rich family discarded the child who didn't meet their standards. 

In the end they had realized that teaming up was much better than trying to sabotage each other. Damian had the advantage of being younger, more "adorable" and good looking, while Tim already had experience about proper behavior among wealthy society and the manners his parents had spent a long time instilling in his young brain so he wouldn't embarrass them in public. After they pulled their heads out of their asses , they both shared their skills and teamed up to increase the likelihood of not being discarded. 

If only they had known. 

Tim beckons Damian over and the boy steps closer, turning his face away to show him his neck. The older brother meticulously checks the tiny round punctures, now healed, making sure the wounds have not reopened. The first few days since their escape they were always bleeding, staining their shirts red and making them feel weak and dizzy. The physical symptoms of their weakness had been accompanied by an unnatural urge to return to Wayne Manor, to the arms of their "family". 

They managed, by the skin of their teeth, to remain hidden for two weeks following their escape and finally the compulsion had reduced its intensity from a "Come back, come back, come back, come back, come back, come back, come back!",to an increasingly easy- to-ignore murmur. Tim had taken early turns keeping watch while Damian slept, as in the early days they both had bouts of sleepwalking that caused them to try to leave their safe hiding places. 

A soft knock on the glass window of the room causes Tim to tense up and raise his head with a jolt. Damian is still sound asleep and Tim shakes him a little to wake him up. He can't risk it if Jason tries again to force Tim to let him in. The boy wakes quickly, clinging to Tim with a question in his eyes. Tim points toward the window. 

It's Cass. 

She smiles when their eyes meet and keeps tapping on the window with little rhythmic taps with her fingertip. Since they arrived at the mansion, Bruce had made it clear to them that she couldn't speak well and chose to communicate by signing. Tim and Damian had started learning sign language on their own initially to score points with the family, but then it had been for genuine pleasure to interact with Cass. 

"Hi Damian, hi Tim," she waves her hands gracefully. "I'm happy to see you." 

Neither brother answers. But unlike Jason, who had been angry at being ignored, she keeps looking at them with a friendly smile.That was something they really liked about her: Cass was kind, understanding, and unflappable. Jason, for as long as they had known him, was passionate, always with feelings running high in a way that felt intimidating. Whether he was happy, sad, angry, etc., everyone would know quickly. 

They couldn't help but move a little closer to the window to get a better look. "You look sick, little brothers , " she frowns, "I don't like it." 

Damian grunts and Tim shrugs. Yes, they are a little sick, stress and bad food have to take their toll unusually quickly. 

"We miss you, we're all sad at home." 

"Don't lie to us so blatantly, Cassandra," Damian growls and Tim is pained by the way his eyes glisten with held back tears. 

It's hard to be afraid of Cass. She's...kind...gentle even. Jason is strong, big and impulsive and his yelling and demand felt almost like threats. Dick is so charismatic that they feel they can't match his enthusiasm, but Cass is a presence that is almost not felt, but sorely needed when she's gone. 

"It's not lies , " she waves her hands quickly . "Believe me, please, little brothers." Tim shakes his head. 

They don't have that luxury. 

"We don't want to hurt you, we love you." 

"Very strange, your way of showing love!" retorts Tim. 

"Listen to me little brothers," she asks and Tim laments how even after everything, he wants to believe in her. "I can explain." 

"I can't think of a way to explain the shit they were doing to us!" 

"We're sorry for scaring you," her face reflects her regret, "I tried to tell them it was too fast, but they were too anxious...excited." 

"Excited about what?" 

"Because of you two, why else?" 

Tim and Damian look at each other for a moment. 

"Why... did they do those things to us?" the younger boy asks.

She shakes her head and her face shows a hint of regret.

"I told them not to, that we were going too fast, introducing you too many changes in too little time, but our Sire and our father are afraid that you will leave us." 

"We are leave them. We're leaving and they won't stop us." Tim nods at Damian's declaration. 

At that statement, Cass smiles an enigmatic, possessive smile, her white teeth flashing in the moonlight and her obsidian black eyes glowing a golden hue for a second. 

"No, you won't." 

Damian steps away from the window, tugging on Tim's arm and they both look at who until now had seemed the most harmless of their supposed family. She is a predator now. 

"Even if you two run," she makes her final statement, her hands are firm conveying her final message, "we'll get you." She vanishes into thin air and whatever sense of observation they had been feeling so far vanishes along with her. 

However, they both know she is still there. 

Waiting for her opportunity.

Chapter Text

Tim and Steph manage to carry the girl named Cass up to the mansion with little fanfare. Tim lends Cass his brown cloak so that she doesn't attract too much attention from the gossips due to her wounds and battered clothing that screams "runaway slave" and they slip between shortcuts and alleys, arriving at the Drake mansion before dark. 

Mrs. Mac, the mansion's housekeeper, sees them pass by and simply ignores them. She already knows she can't stop Tim when he gets into something. She is a good person, a bit stiff and aloof as her role as housekeeper requires. Although she seems supportive of his efforts to help poorer people and at no time has she ever ratted him out to his parents about his forays into the market and hiring "unqualified staff". 

Tim and Steph take Cass straight to the bathroom in her room, which is large and won't make the girl feel cooped up. Steph heats the water with some fire magic and Tim asks Cass to take off her clothes so she can take a bath and heal her wounds. He didn't expect her to just take everything off and be as naked as the day she was born in front of the two of them without any modesty. 

Tim hurries to cover his eyes letting out a squeal, while Steph laughs at his obvious embarrassment. However, she quickly pulls him out of the room and locks herself in with Cass to help her bathe, asking him to go get her some clothes from her things. 

"Don't worry Steph, I'll replace the clothes we use to dress Cass." She says not to worry about it, downplaying it as Tim hurries to Steph's small utility room. 

He rummages through her clothes for a couple of comfortable dresses and some underwear (he feels the blood rush to his face and burn his cheeks) and a pair of old, well-worn shoes. Cass' feet are covered with calluses, so she's probably never had a chance to wear shoes, and Tim knows that before he buys her new shoes that it is better to get her used to wearing shoes with something worn and comfortable. He'll be sure to buy her everything she'll need to live with them tomorrow. 

The girls take over an hour in there. Tim leaves the clothes and shoes by the bathroom door and then, at Steph's request, brings them a pair of scissors and a comb. Steph tells him through the door that the girl has lice and her hair is so tangled, it's simply best to cut it off and let it grow back healthy. Tim searches through his things for a scarf without embroidery, so Cass doesn't have to walk around with her head uncovered.

"Get some healing ointment, Tim." Steph shouts to him through the door, and the boy runs through the mansion to the room the healer usually uses when he comes to the mansion for his periodic checkups, searching through the medicines where he usually leaves the wound ointment and some bandages. 

He returns quickly and when he finds the bathroom door open Tim considers it permission to enter. Cass is in her underwear, but when she tries to leave the room, Steph tells her that she needs his help to bandage and dress the wounds and that Cass understands that Tim won't look at her lustfully. That reassures him a bit, though he can't help but blush. 

Cass' body is covered with wounds and scars, accompanied by lean, firm muscles from someone who works very hard every day. Between the two of them, they do a decent job disinfecting and dressing the wounds. The poor girl has cuts on her back and arms, black and blue bruises just starting to fade, and more scars than they can count. 

"Fucking slavers." Steph curses under her breath and Tim nods wholeheartedly. They are the worst this world has to offer. 

Cass doesn't say much, but her body isn't tense and she allows them to touch her even though she should at least be suspicious of them or suspicious of their touches (who knows how many people only touched to hurt her). She seems to trust Tim and Steph's intentions to help and they are both happy about that; it's really all they want to do. 

They will help her and allow her to be a free person. If she decides to stay working at the Drake mansion when she is recovered, that's fine. If later, she decides she wants to do other things with her life, Tim will help her in every way possible so she can make her goals a reality. 

But it's too soon to think about that. 

Steph goes to the kitchen and comes back with chicken broth with vegetables, bread and water. The new girl looks at the food like it's the greatest feast on earth and at Tim's nod she goes for it like there's no tomorrow. 

Uh... we'll have to work on her manners, Tim decides, as he watches Cass devour the bread and ignore the spoon and slurp the soup straight from the bowl and lick the plate when the broth runs out, lick her fingers and burp.

"We'll give you more soon," Tim assures Tim at Cass's tearful look. "We can't give you too much food at once or you might get sick and throw it all up."

She nods, though she looks longingly at the empty plate as she finishes licking her fingers. Tim and Steph look at each other and silently promise that Cass will never feel hunger again as long as she is with them. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Tim and Steph focus their full attention on helping Cass, momentarily forgetting about the Wayne family and all that it implies. This is somewhat surprising in Tim's mind, because since he came to that world they are all he has in his thoughts most of the time. 

Cass is soft but wary of the kindness she is receiving, and looks at them like they hang stars from the sky every time they feed her. She prefers to stay inside the Drake mansion and work there, even though Tim has told her that she is free to roam wherever she wants, and that if she wants to accompany them every time they go out, or go out on her own, she is free to do that. But she shakes her head and stays within the mansion walls. Tim guesses that she must be scared that her former owners will find her.

Over the weeks, they find out that she is perfectly capable of speaking, but her master had demanded absolute silence from her, severely punishing for any sound. From the softest moan of pain, to particularly strong breaths, all was punished; even when they assure her that she won't be punished for speaking or anything, she prefers to find solace in silence, only speaking when it was necessary.

Two months after Cass’ arrival at the mansion, Tim receives a visit from his parents that lasts four days in its entirety. During that time, Steph and Cass do not leave the servants quarters. His parents would never deign to go down to "the servants' quarters" so the girls are safe from discovery. The other servants in the manor know that winning Jack and Janet's sympathy is not worth losing Tim's sympathy . After all, he is the one who actually lives in the mansion and who is in control (if you ask Tim, his parents shouldn't give a 12-year-old that much power) of everything during the Viscount Drake's lengthy absences.

Cass, once fully healed, turns out to be an amazing and honest worker as well as a new friend for Tim and Steph. She seems fascinated and utterly delighted that Tim is paying her for her work, hoarding her money as if she can't believe that she is able to buy things for herself as a free person.

She is shy and unlike Steph, who is ready to stop Tim's shit if he is being particularly stupid, she is usually permissive with what he wants to do; from his little escapes to the street to buy trinkets, to his plans to set up a soup kitchen in one of the poorest neighborhoods in the city, or stealing an abused fighting dog from its terrible owners and bringing it into the house.

“We need to be done with those adoptive instincts of yours,” Steph mumbles as they wash the dog with hot water and the same soap Tim uses. “If people knew you were that good, they would try to take advantage of you. They would gnaw you to the bone Tim.”

"Hey!" Tim protests, wrinkling his nose, as Ace (that's what they decided to call the dog) splashes dirty water on his face. "I'm just trying to help where I can, it's not a bad thing."

"Not bad," Cass interrupts as she gives Ace another piece of meat as a bribe to stay put, "It's good, very good, so good that everyone will want something and leave nothing of you in the end."

“That…sounds creepy,” Tim shudders. “I'll try to control it, then.” The two girls look at him in disbelief and Tim protests. He can be selfish whenever he wants.

They finish bathing Ace and find a pen in the stables with a good amount of hay for him to lie down comfortably. The other servants in the mansion simply roll their eyes and ignore his antics. Mrs. Mac, on the other hand, calls him to notify him of the arrival of a letter.

Perhaps his parents wrote to him?

He picks up the envelope, animated, before seeing the bat-patterned wax seal. A charter from the Dukedom of Wayne.

Tim feels his intestines go cold and it's an ugly feeling, like when he rode the roller coaster that time in the world he came from. Vertigo, yes, that's what he feels. Cass senses his discomfort and looks at him questioningly as Steph puts a hand on his shoulder. "Hey boy wonder, are you alright?"

"Uh... yeah yeah, sorry, I was just surprised, that's all."

"Who wrote you?"

"The Wayne Dukedom," Tim swallows hard and rips open the envelope. He doesn't quite know what to feel, the Wayne family has been out of his thoughts since Cass' arrival. He simply thought that everything would continue organically and he would have nothing to do with it ever again. "It is an invitation to a gala at Wayne Manor, to celebrate the recovery of Jason Todd-Wayne."

"Recovery?" Steph looks doubtful, "The last thing we heard was that Jason Todd-Wayne still couldn't walk on his own."

“They must be trying to put down the rumors about the dukedom falling apart or that Jason went insane after being tortured.” Tim replies, biting his lip.

That was another one of the rumors that had been circulating among the common people. Supposedly Jason had taken too much damage and hadn't been consistent, he only said a few words and didn't seem to answer to anyone.

Tim hoped with all his heart that this was false. He couldn't bear the thought that, in exchange for not dying, Jason would be doomed to live with major brain damage for the rest of his life. He didn't deserve that ending. He deserved to be the new Duke of Wayne and achieve in this life what he had not achieved in the original novel.

"You will go?" Says Steph, aware that Tim wants to stay away from the Waynes after saving their son.

“I doubt that Mother and Father will return on the date of the gala,” Tim says absently as he traces the letter with his fingers. “And one cannot simply snub for such a high-nobility family without facing harsh consequences. Everything will be fine... as long as I just go in, say ‘hello’ to the Duke on behalf of my parents and leave immediately, I think I'll be fine. Nobody could demand that I stay, since I'm still a minor and I haven't had my presentation gala.”

"If you say so..." Steph replies, and Tim doesn't have it in him to scold her, when he feels the same doubt.

Chapter Text

Tim hid in the hollow of a tree as he caught his breath. God, he had been so stupid to trust the Lady of the Forest and beg for her blessing. The myths had spoken of her being kind to children and that there was a good chance of getting mercy if one was desperate and pathetic enough to move her heart of wood and darkness.

Even frightened and angered by this sudden and horrible fate, he could not entirely blame her for his misfortune. She is a fairy after all and fairies are fickle. It is well known that her version of kindness changes as easily as the direction of the wind. Perhaps, sending him into slavery in the fairy world was her version of mercy for him. According to legends, some fairies tend to take good care of their toys.

He doesn't know where to go from here. He needs to return to the human world if he wants a chance to make something of himself. He will have no use for his stolen riches if he can't spend them, and it will do him no good to be free only to fall into the slavery of the fae realms, something for which even death is no escape.

The infant fae he encountered seemed to have no interest in pursuing or tormenting him, and neither he, nor his beast had followed Tim into the forest (something for which he was infinitely grateful). However, he did not trust himself to have such luck more than once.

Tim searches the forest for a good shelter and he finds a steep rock with a gap underneath that will serve as shelter from the rain. There is a hole in the ground that can be covered with a stone, perfect for hiding his treasure. He can't be held back by the enormous weight of gold and jewels if he needs to run, and before he worries about money he has to worry about his own life. After all, a corpse can't buy anything. He hides his treasure knowing that, should there be a chance to return to the human world, he will likely have to leave behind everything he doesn't bring with him. He'll settle for getting out of this alive, then.  And with the knowledge that the gold, one way or another, will not return to the greedy hands of the lord and lady of the castle.

There is a growl coming from his stomach and he remembers that the last time he ate was a day before his robbery and escape; his mouth moistens at the sight of a bush of red, juicy berries. He suddenly remembers that people must not eat or drink anything from the fairy realm or they will acquire an eternal debt to the creatures and forces himself to stop himself from gobbling the food.

His stomach roars again, aching, and Tim strokes it to try to soothe the cramps. Water is also the property of the fairies, so he knows he's on a countdown. He has a couple of days to find his way back or be captured by the magical entities that inhabit this world and serve them forever.  

It's starting to get cold and Tim regrets not stealing a flint when he left the castle. If he had one he could light some tinder, and have a fire that would last all night so he wouldn't succumb to the cold. Honestly, he did not foresee a very long future in the fae kingdoms.

The hideout he is in is on a hill and, although there are a good amount of trees, the boy can see the supernatural spectacle of the fae village. There are stars, STARS, shining intermittently overhead. Tim remembers the child fae that cornered him before dawn and savors with reverence the memory of sunlight shining between his hands. Magic so powerful as to encase lights so far away and bind them to the earth was something Tim feared and admired in equal measure. He can't stray too far from the fairies even if he wanted to, everyone knows that the exits to their world (the fairy circles) are close to them and their homes. He must bide his time and seize the slightest opportunity to walk through the door to the human world that must be hidden in the castle.

Watching the twinkling stars tied to the earth, the boy did not doubt that they had caught all those stars to light up their castle at night just for the whim of doing so.

He shrank back, suddenly consumed by green, twisted envy. There is nothing more free, dangerous, beautiful and powerful than fairies. The human child feels helpless and jealous of his power and freedom and hugs his own knees, trying to keep warm, having made a kind of nest out of dry leaves. The child tries to hold on at least until the next day and quietly prays to be able to find his way home quickly.

Unfortunately for him, the following days were even worse.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Jason cursed a thousand times as he took out the trash, thinking about the new damn problem in the form of a raggedy, skinny kid they could sometimes see hanging around the property. Damian had seen him a couple of times, always in the wee hours of the morning and Jason's stomach twists at the thought that the kid has probably been trying to get close enough to rummage through his garbage can for food.

The young adult curses, thinking about how they already have enough shit to deal with with the bank threatening to foreclose on the farm and Alfred's recent illness. Now there was also a starving child nearby, and his father and grandfather were already making plans to help him, not thinking about how they were the ones who needed all the help they could get.

Not that he hated his old man's huge, compassionate heart, because Jason got a family because of it, but...he couldn't afford it, they were up to their necks in debt, juggling to make ends meet and fighting the bank's desire to put them out on the street.

Another child, another mouth to feed, especially one that they could tell from afar needed a lot of special care, was a burden they couldn't afford...and God, Jason hated to sound like a cold-hearted, selfish fucking asshole, but he didn't want to see his family lose what little they had to help a stranger who appeared out of nowhere to insert himself into their life.

Jason is going... Jason is going to make it go away.

He closes the dumpster lid with a little more force than necessary and takes a breath, trying to convince himself that this is for the best. It will scare the guy a little, just enough to get him off the property and then everyone can go back to worrying about their own problems.

Look, Alfred's shotgun isn't even loaded, okay, Jason doesn't plan on pointing that thing at anyone either, just, he'll carry it on his back as a statement of fact, just so the kid knows Jason is serious you know, nothing talks more serious than a guy carrying a gun. Jason knows that firsthand.

He makes sure to track him carefully, ignoring the pain in his chest at the sight of the plate with a sandwich left on the porch, probably prepared by Alfie for the homeless man, in the hope that he won't have to eat out of the garbage.

Jason catches his breath and gives himself strength as he continues to follow the trail the boy has left while he's been circling his family's house in search of who knows what. Someone has to be the bad guy in this story and if no one else can, it might as well be Jason. Maybe Bruce and the others will be mad at him, but he's sure they'll eventually understand that he's just trying to protect them. They can't afford to pick up another stray when they're a hair's breadth away from being left on the street.

He keeps repeating this to himself as a small dirt path, that has seen frequent use, circles the property. The guy must have been slyly hanging around the house every day waiting for his chance to sneak in and steal. Jason doesn't know him, but he honestly doesn't think he's the aggressive type of thief who wants to hurt them, he seems more like the shy type of thief who tries to steal some food and some clothes that are left unattended on the clothesline.

He knows this part of the woods probably better than Bruce, because when he first arrived he used to hide out here when he was scared of being punished if he had made a mistake, and also when he wanted to be alone, overwhelmed by so many new things in his life. At first he had doubted the sanity of his social worker who placed him on this farm as his new transitional home, but the hard work and quiet life of the farm did wonders for what the other foster homes called "attitude problems" and which turned out to be PTSD a mile wide, related to his terrible childhood and lack of trusted adult figures in his life.

Redirecting his mind from his depressing memories, he began to find much fresher traces of footsteps that told him the intruder was nearby. He adjusted the strap that held the shotgun on his back and crept stealthily to a small dip in the hill, perfect for someone to sleep inside and not get drenched if it rained. Smart, Jason could respect this boy's or girl's street instincts.

"Hey," he shooed at the surprisingly small figure huddled at the base of the hole, "Get up, kid, time for you to go." He made noise, stomping the dry branches loudly and raising his voice, but there were no responses from the huddled body. An ugly feeling settled in his throat, when the boy didn't move or seem to hear Jason.

"Boy?"

Nothing.

A ruse?

Jason cautiously approached the intruder, noticing as he got closer some rather frightening things. The boy was thin, his ankles showing only stretched skin over twig-thin bones. His feet were a mess of scars and blisters and Jason began to panic at the thought of what this child must have gone through to end up like this.

Soon there was movement, but it wasn't what Jason expected. He expected a startled jump at the sight of an intruder, a scream, an attack, he didn't expect the boy to crawl on his knees with resignation exuding from every pore, whispering for help as he clung with bony, gnarled hands to Jason's clothes.

"Please...please, I'll do anything,” his accent and words were odd, as if he were speaking another version of old-fashioned English. "Please, you can do whatever you want with me, just...just, I don't want to die."

Before Jason could gather his words to reply, the boy slid almost smoothly forward and fell face first to the floor.

Jason screams.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Tim had been so naive. He had always thought he was a clever boy, after all he had managed to survive in the lord and lady's castle against all odds, as well as successfully stealing and running away from the hunt he had brought upon himself the moment he escaped. He thought that as long as he was away from those people he could manage to survive. He had the absurd hope that he could live the rest of his life somewhere quiet, without having to endure hunger, mistreatment or fear, he even dared to imagine the absurd possibility of forming a family to grow old with.

Fucking absurd.

It had been days since he had been lost in the fairy world, thrown back to his lands by the lady of the forest, and he was no closer to discovering a way to return to the human world. He had hovered near the fairy castle, waiting for an opportunity to sneak into its lair and find his way out (a fairy circle) of this strange and frightening place without any success. There was never a time where the fairy family would retreat together and leave their lair all alone, and the tall, curly-haired fae with vibrant green eyes always seemed to have his eyes on Tim whenever the boy was hovering.

It was quite obvious that they were waiting for their chance. The food was left outside, an obvious trap for Tim to earn a lifetime debt. But it was so damn tempting as the hunger pangs made him buckle and the constant thirst tormented him. He had only been able to drink a little water every time it rained, too afraid to take water from the stream or berries from the bushes.

It is obvious that he is getting weaker and weaker and will not last much longer. The day comes too early and it is easier not to move to haunt the fae's lair and conserve energy that is getting scarcer and scarcer. Sleeping helps you not to feel hunger, thirst or fear of uncertainty.

He is awakened by the sounds of heavy footsteps and the din of someone shouting. He refuses to move, knowing himself doomed.

"Hey," Tim hears someone (whom he refuses to look at) shout, "Get up, boy, time for you to go." Where to, Tim thinks in desperation, he has nowhere to run. "Boy?"

The voice has a hint of concern that makes Tim jump. He looks at the male fae (or female, fae can be many things, everything and nothing and the stuff of nightmares or the sweetest dreams), the one who had been watching him every time Tim tried to prowl his castle. Perhaps that had been the plan all along, to make Tim give up and surrender, driven by despair and fear of death.

"Please...please, I'll do anything," he pleads desperately, crawling towards the beautiful fae and clinging to his fancy clothes, soiling them in the process. "Please, you can do whatever you want with me, just...just, I don't want to die".

He has fought so long and so hard for long enough to give up now, he will survive the captivity of the fairies and perhaps there is a hope of being released when they get bored with him (as they say fairies often do). He will do whatever it takes to survive once again.

Before he can plead any further, exhaustion and hunger finally catch up with him and he quickly passes out at the feet of his new master. He knows better than to hope, but deludedly allows himself to imagine a merciful master.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Bruce is in the kitchen, going over the household bills again and breathing a sigh of relief that they have made it through this month. The bank bills have been paid on time and they have dealt with the hospital. They have already let Jim know about the boy hanging around their farm and are coming tomorrow at the latest (there is too much to do in Gotham regarding children) along with some social workers, to take the boy to reassure him and get him to a shelter. His conscience pricks at the thought of leaving the boy in the care of the system, but, looking again at the accounts, they can't afford it. They have been struggling financially since the attack on Jason and now it has worsened with Alfred's illness, but for now they are managing to get their heads above water. One more child, one who needs help so badly, will put them up against the wall.

Maybe when things get a little better they'll talk to the social workers about having the boy come live with them if he hasn't found a suitable home yet. Then he hears the cries.

"DAD, DAD!" That's Jason's voice, desperate and scared like he's rarely heard it before, "HELP, DAD!"

Jason only calls him dad in the most desperate situations. A thousand horrible thoughts come to his mind as he runs up the driveway, thinking of an accident or an attack, or that the boy hanging around the house had turned out to be aggressive and had attacked his son. Before the scenarios turned into more nightmares, he stepped out into the yard and saw his son running out of the woods, carrying the limp body of the unknown boy in his arms.

"What's wrong, son!" replies Bruce with equal desperation, looking for injuries on his son and the boy.

"Dad, he passed out, he told me, he told me h-he told me he didn't want to die!"

The next half hour is filled with screaming, crying and fear as Bruce calls the police and ambulance and Jason puts away the shotgun (Bruce will talk to him about that later). Father and son stabilize, as best they can, the sick boy who is rushed to the hospital with a bad case of malnutrition, dehydration and infection in one of the cuts on his feet.

Jason hasn't stopped crying since he came out of the woods. Bruce comforts him gently on the couch in the house, trying to get him to tell him what happened, but Jason is having none of it, by the time he has calmed down, Dick and Damian have returned from work and school respectively and have joined the hug pile and even the officers have finished compiling their statements.

"He'll be fine, Jaylad," comforts Bruce. "The nurses said that it's serious, but his life is not at risk."

"You don't understand, Dad!" cries Jason as he wipes his tears, "What he told me!"

"Tell us then, Little Wing," encourages Dick. "What did he tell you that made you react like that?"

"H-he... he begged me, he told me to do whatever I wanted with him," Jason's voice cracked again, "but that he didn't wanna die... He told me to do whatever I wanted with him! That he'd do whatever I wanted!"

Bruce drops his jaw a little, terrified. It makes sense that Jason has become like this, reliving his terrible memories of when he lived on the streets and had to do whatever it took to get a little food or shelter.

"If he ends up in the system, I know someone is going to take him up on that offer, I know because it happened to me too!"

His second oldest son hides his face in his hands and Bruce feels the decision has been made for him. Not that Gotham's system is totally horrible, but there's a lot of kids and there's not enough money or foster homes for all of them, and a kid in as bad a shape as the one they just took is likely to end up in a group home.

He looks at all his family (except Alfred who is in the hospital) and knows that the decision has been made.

He hopes he will not regret it.

Chapter Text

When Bernard was 16 years old, his parents kicked him out of the house because of his sexuality. Depressed and without support, he was recruited by the Sons of Dionysus sect who took him out of Gotham, where he was tortured and used by the members for his rituals. The reason why he was captured is because he really is the son of Dionysus, aka; a demigod of the flesh and blood of him. Bernard doesn't remember much of his time in the cult, spent either being tortured or being used as a vessel for his "father." The cult is discovered and disintegrated by Constantine and some other magical agents and Bernard is rescued when his father is exorcised from his body.

Trying to regain control of his life, he returns to Gotham, where he finds an easy job at a video game store and tries to forget what happened to him. Bernard does not know that he is a demigod, nor does he know that due to being possessed by Dionysus his magical powers were awakened.

On the other hand, the Wayne family, a coven of magical creatures that has taken care of Gotham for quite some time. They aim their gaze at Bernard, due to his enormous magical potential, which represents a huge danger to them. Bruce tasks Tim with investigating this new threat that is upsetting Gotham's delicate balance and should he need it, he will find a way to get rid of the danger. Tim agrees.

Tim hopes to find some sort of maniac madman (as he has seen some other demigods to be) desirous of worship and power. What he finds is a traumatized boy, desperately clinging to whatever normality he has left, wanting to make friends but not being able to.

This reminds him of himself, when he was attacked by an ancient vampire (Ra's) and was rescued by Bruce, too late to remain human, but at least not chained to serve that monster forever.

He decides to help this demigod. He definitely did not expect to fall in love with him.

Chapter Text

A mighty rumble shakes the facility and causes all the scientists to freeze in terror. The facility guarding the dragon sanctuary is heavily armored in case their scaled friends decide that the humans who have been overseeing their affairs for the past few decades need to leave, so the door and the building withstand the attacks but stil is terrifying.

Dr. Isley runs to the video surveillance room and focuses on the door to enclosure 4, where she can see Bruce, followed by his pups, mercilessly ramming the enclosure's metal door, roaring and screeching with seen desperation.

It had already been a couple of weeks since they had had to sedate them in order to intervene when Tim had been so ill, only to discover that his body was catching up with a shedding of scales. All they had done upon discovering this happy event had been to give him a good course of vitamins to give his body more energy and some preventative antibiotic injections, for any possible infection.

According to Dr. Harley, the expert in studying the different parts of dragon skins, a late molt like the one Tim was experiencing was the human equivalent of having permanent teeth suddenly sprouting and pushing baby teeth out without preparation. That's why the blood and itching were so abundant.

Nothing bad had happened since then, the herd had woken up a little disoriented from the sedatives, but after accounting for the herd members and seeing that no one was hurt or missing, they had remarked all over the territory and moved on with their lives almost as if nothing had happened.

Wait for it...

Accoun.

Pamela focused the cameras on the open-roofed enclosure, specifically the desperate herd, and began counting heads. There was Damien, hiding under Cass, bringing up the rear of the attack, there was Steph (who shouldn't be doing such strenuous activities before finishing her recovery) Dick, Jason and Bruce were the ones ramming the enclosure door with unbridled force and fury, so-

Tim

Oh hell, where is Tim?

Pamela felt her heart clench with fear and pain, her mind filling with the terrible possibilities that came with the disappearance of her little dragon. She tapped the emergency transmitter, which was currently playing the automatic recording for the compound workers to make their way in an orderly and calm manner to the safe shelters underground, and spoke.

"Dr. Quinzel and Dr. Woosan, make your way to the observation room, unusual behavior recorded in the compound four herd requires your assistance" she repeated the message a couple more times.

Harley and Sandra didn't take too long to arrive turning their full attention to the angry pack, watching as the dragons roared and whined at the metal door. Bruce used his claws to try to dig into the door that was resisting the assault and roared, loudly and desperately, then ducked his head and made a couple of sounds much like groans of pain.

Were they... calling out for Tim?

"They must remember that Tim used to run for the door during his first few weeks of being in the herd" Harley whispers, leaning against the screen in concentration "They probably think we took him."

"We need to look for Tim" seconds Dr. Woosan as she begins transmitting a message over the comms about the need to search the facility for a Fucanglong dragon specimen named "Tim" that may be the cause of the bat pack's unusual behavior.

The three female doctors have been charged with looking after Tim's health from the time he had arrived at the facility and are especially pained that the little dragon may have received some damage or died for some reason and his new flock is trying to look for him. Even as well as his recovery was going, there was always a high probability that his body would not be able to catch up with the developments necessary for his survival and would give up, giving in to malnutrition disease and stress.

The others dragons howl and roar for hours, sometimes charging at the door or sometimes lying down with no energy and moaning mournfully as if they were just begging to be allowed to see their baby. Searching the facility was also fruitless, no one had seen Tim or reported a dragon sneaking into the facility. No good results when they try to use the cameras to look around either. There is no way anyone would risk going out with the dragons so stressed and they can't send the drones out either.

The pack of the bat had already knocked down two, and each time they came charging back with a vengeance against the door.

Pamela's heart broke when she saw little Damian take the lead and approach the door, making an attempt at a roar that sounded more like a goose's squawk and then ducked his head, and cowered sadly at his father's feet.

Evening was approaching when they heard the first squeak.

The first to raise his head from the nest of misery in which the herd of bats were huddled is obviously Bruce. Followed closely by Jason and the others.

Dr. Woosan focuses the cameras on the spot where she heard the sound. For a minute there is nothing but the new calls of the bat pack in a new round of wailing.

Out of nowhere the bushes open and Tim emerges, very campy, holding a huge dead wild hare in his mouth. He looks very happy, shaking his long tail from side to side with what looks like pride.

The cameras don't catch it, but Bruce squints at the ragamuffin.

And like a furious father who discovers that his son has run away from home recklessly, he lunges at the offender.

Tim, who was blissfully unaware of everything around him as he maneuvers the huge mountain rabbit between his forelegs and his jaw, squawks shamefully as the patriarch's massive jaw closes around the back of his neck and lifts him off the ground with a thunderous roar.

The hare falls to the ground as the little dragon is paralyzed between Bruce's jaws. Jason is roaring at length and if the scientists watching could understand this sonorous language they would hear something like "Where the fuck have you been?, you had us worried you earthen tadpole!, you're going into the nest and you're not coming out until I say you can!"

The doctors scour the cameras from the observation room, to follow Tim's trail and find out where he had been this time. They follow the flashes of new scales covering wider and wider patches of his skin to track him around the vicinity of the shelter.

And then they discover where the little dragon had been all the time his herd was worried about him.

He was almost twelve hours straight, lying completely motionless staring into rabbit's den.

The recordings show that he didn't even react to the desperate calls of his pack, completely focused on watching the rabbit hole, waiting for the exact moment when the hare poked its little head out, before lunging with all the strength of his legs with open jaws and snapping the creature's neck with one swift and precise movement, in his first successful hunt.

Then they watch him do a happy dance, doing little hops brimming with pride at having gotten food on his own, they watch him carry the huge rabbit with difficulty towards his herd's den, squealing with happiness, obviously ready to show them what a good hunter he was.

The doctors watch the herd move away from the door as suddenly as they arrived, with Dick throwing dirt towards it to the door with his hind legs in a clear gesture of contempt. They chuckle a little, giving the alert that the emergency is over, being sure that little Timmy is going to be grounded for a while right there.

"You've troubled your family a lot, you naughty little thing" Pamela Isley whispers fondly as she documents this new occurrence for her study on dragons and their family bonds.