❥ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝐍𝐞𝐧𝐞.

As Bruce expected, most of the targets were either preteens or regular citizens either from the low or middle class, and to top it off they're people with no families or have much social connections, if they disappear no one will notice until later on. And it frustrated him even further, if the culprit is that good at hiding evidence then it's definitely more than just a mere human traffickers.

“However…” Tim mutters, snapping Bruce out of his thoughts. Presenting a throwing star in front of him. “Nightwing found this, it's a ninja star.” He hands it to Bruce who holds it up near the light to examine it closely.

Bruce's frown deepens. Just what he anticipated.

His gaze seizing up the material, no traces of dry blood, no scratches on it either, the tips are intact and aren't skewed, indicating that the weapon was probably used merely to scare the target into submission.

“Do you think the league of assassins are involved?” It was subtle, but Bruce doesn't miss the way Tim aims the accusation at the family's new addition, namely Damian's sister.

Suspiciously enough, Ever since you showed up the disappearances followed, but surprisingly, Bruce doesn't think you're involved.

At least not directly.

“Don't jump to conclusions, Tim. Many use this weapon, not just the league of assassins.” Bruce takes the throwing star and narrows his eyes at it, examining it closely. “Besides, their region was taken over not too long ago, this could be Slade's protege's handiwork.” Revenger might be more of a natural third party, but she's still Slade's protege and daughter, she was still involved with him making her stance unclear.

Slade might've been taken down but his allies are still out and lurking, they could've stolen some of the LOA's resources.

Tim heaved a sigh at Bruce's dismissive response. “Right, sorry. I don't know why I thought that.” he hadn't meant to point fingers or anything. The words just slipped out.

“However, I would like you to keep an eye on her.” Bruce adds.

Tim’s head snapped at that. “come again?”

“Don't get the wrong idea, I do believe Damian’s sister is innocent,” that was partially true, but then again, Bruce can't trust anyone, that was his rule of thumb, and that doesn't exclude you, he prefers to be prepared for any unexpected blow. He wouldn't want to risk it, considering the stakes. “I just want you to make sure she doesn't get into trouble. You knew how her brother was when he first came here.”

Oh, Tim doesn't have to reminisce, his body subconsciously shudders at the memories.

The majority of their early interactions as far as they went was an attempted murder on Damian's part, every physical touch was with the intent of causing harm. However, with time, and patience, all of that was eventually reduced to just friendly banter.

They were finally on an almost peaceful terms, although it doesn't exactly encourage him to willingly take up on that task. “That's not what I meant, I mean why does it have to be me?” Tim rephrases his question. Admittedly, he had no issue keeping an eye on you, the problem is, Al ghuls or the league of assassins generally are just not the kind of people you can simply trust before you are absolutely sure where they stand.

And right now, his relationship with you is currently going through a bumpy stage (more like precaution on his part) and it would be better to give that task to someone else—like Richard, hell, even Jason would do.

…Alright maybe Jason wouldn't do better, but still, anyone who isn't as skittish around you as him is better in his opinion.

“Dick and Jason are occupied with investigating the matter, they're in and out of the manor, you're the one who stays here the most.” Bruce stated firmly leaving no place for discussions. “And don't even think about suggesting Alfred, he already has enough on his plate.” he adds.

Tim groans in frustration, it seems like there was no way for him out of this one, so he just accepts defeat. He spins on his heels and leaves the batcave.

Who knows, maybe this was a chance at getting to know you better, perhaps he will finally have some sort of a normal bond with someone in this house.

He almost laughs at the thought, it was probably too much to ask for especially from an Al ghul.

“How did you convince father to let you become Robin? He seems a little…hardheaded?” you ask, hoping that your brother can give you any clue on how to get your father to agree to your demands. You assumed that since Damian is now robin he would be able to help you achieve your goal of becoming Batgirl.

Damian who was sitting on the couch across from you gave a noncommittal shrug. “I didn't, I just took it. Why should I ask for what's rightfully mine?” you shot him an unimpressed look, Typical of him.

“Maybe next time, do it without trying to harm master drake. I would personally appreciate that.” Alfred, who was occupied with dusting the furniture of the common room intervenes the conversation with his commentary.

You chuckle at Butler's jab. “Sorry Alfred, teaching Damian manners wasn't exactly a priority back at Nanda parbat.”

“That much I could tell.” the butler says with an eye roll before exiting the room to continue his chores.

You were fascinated at how the servant was comfortable enough to make such risky quips and get away with them. Had anyone done the same at your home, they would probably go missing the next day.

Quiet Comfortable silence followed shortly as you scratched Titus behind the ear, the hound was lazily resting on your lap, he seemed relaxed around you, perhaps it sensed the connection you had with his owner and immediately decided that you're a friend.

Good to know that at least not everyone here despises you.

“It seems like getting on father's path is going to be a lot harder than I anticipated…” you mutter audibly as you continue petting the dog. His tail thumped softly against the couch cushions.

Your brother's brows furrowed at that.

“I don't get it.” Damian sounded perplexed. “Why don't you just take it just like I did? Everything he owns will eventually be ours, it's our birthright.”

You massage your temples trying and failing not to look too exasperated at that statement. Of course he would suggest that. You should have known better than asking him for advice. Apparently being surrounded with semi-normal people hadn't done anything to improve his behavior.

This one is going to be a long shot.

“Look, Damian,” you point at him. “I'm trying to get on his path, not his nerves, I want to reach an agreement with him, not establish authority. I doubt stealing stuff from behind his back and going against his orders will help at all.” you explained to him, but you doubt that he would understand that, or even try to for that matter.

And Damian unsurprisingly huffs at that. “Tt, Your morals never fail to impress me.” his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Though, I'm not sure it will impress father enough to give you the title.”

You roll your eyes and try to ignore his biting comment, it seems like reaching your goal will require a lot of planning and patience. “In any case.” you start again, “dad said there are friends coming tonight. Mind filling me in? Who are they and what do they look like?”

“he's probably talking about his colleagues from the justice league. Specifically the supers.”

“He is friends with the league?” you question, the justice league of course was a well known group of superheroes who save people from world threatening disasters, and your dad was their leader.

Damian shrugs. “Something of the sort. It's hard to tell with dad most of the time, he says he doesn't have or need friends, quite indecisive of him if you ask me.” Admittedly, he didn't seem like the social type, so hearing that wasn't surprising.

“So you don't know what's the occasion?” Damian answers your question with a shake of his head.

“Father did not even specify who he had invited and you really expect me to know his reason behind the invitation?”

“Fair.” It's almost like your father was doing it on purpose, being a mystery that is.

“I suggest you ask Pennyworth, if you're that desperate to know.” Damian's voice pulled you out of your thoughts, his suggestion made you raise your eyebrow in confusion. “How would the butler know?”

“There’s more to him than meets the eye, if anything he can read our father like a book.” Damian promoted, he gets up from the couch and beckons for the hound to come over and he obediently trots toward him, once the dog was standing beside him Damian turns his head back to you once more. “you will likely find him in the kitchen, if not, he's probably occupied with other chores.” Damian sends a nod of encouragement before leaving, a rare gesture from Damian.

Once Damian and Titus were out of sight a deep exhale escapes your lips as you fall back Into your train of thoughts.

Ask the butler.

The words echo in your head as you mull over them. In all honesty, you did notice how everyone behaves around him, and how he is relaxed and able to joke around without any consequences, at first you thought it was out of respect because of his old age that people let him have his way.

Apparently not.

They hold him in higher regard, where they fear his disapproval, Almost like a father or a grandfather figure. But unlike Ras, there's an underlying care in his gestures, his acts of service are done out of affection underneath his professional veneer.

According to your observations in the past weeks, Alfred seems to have a deep-rooted history in this Manor and overall, the Waynes.

With a resigned sigh you get from your seat and head toward the kitchen hoping to catch sight of the butler.

Perhaps he could offer some assistance to your situation.

The smell of pancakes fills Tim's nostrils, having the entire kitchen for himself and having breakfast alone without Alfred in sight is a rare occasion, the old butler was busy preparing the dining room for the said ‘visitors’ he doesn't know who, and in all honesty, he doesn't care either. His mind is currently busy replaying Bruce's words.

He hadn't say it directly, but Bruce was never a straightforward person, this was probably his way of saying that he should step out.

Bruce tends to shut himself off when he gets exceptionally stressed by his seemly perpetuated workload, and Tim knows not to pry when Bruce gets like this. His only problem is that whenever Bruce is in a mood, it affects everyone else.

He had seen what his mood swings could lead him to do, arguments with Richard, fights with Jason, Alfred's disapproving glare directed at him from the background, despite all that, he refuses to ask them for help, instead what does he do? Withdraws him entirely from the mission and reassigns him to watch you instead.

A childish part of him wants to blame you for getting him excluded from the case, but the more responsible side knows it isn't your fault. Bruce isn't in the wrong for wanting someone to keep you under their watch, he's just annoyed that it happened to be him, after all your arrival here sort of contributed to it.

Tim chides himself, he shouldn't really berate you when it's Bruce's fault for avoiding proper communication, like he always does, he grabs the pan and flips the pancakes onto the plate and pours himself some coffee, he takes the food and places it on the counter as he seats down.

He pulls his laptop opening the lid and starts it, well, jokes on Bruce, just because he ordered him to watch Damian's sister doesn't mean he's going to stop working on the case.

The sound of footsteps pulls him out of his thoughts, he turns his head to see you entering the kitchen.

So much for wanting to have a peaceful breakfast.

You stood there momentarily looking around before your eyes drifts towards his. “Is pennyworth here?”

Tim gives a dismissive shrug. “He's probably attending to other stuff at the minute, the old man is always busy with something, but I'm sure he will be here soon though.” He places his breakfast at the counter and takes a seat at the stool.

“Oh, then I will wait for him…you don't mind if I?...” you nod toward one of the stools silently asking for permission.

Tim shakes his as he gestures to the empty seats. “sure, Help yourself.” with that, he turns to his breakfast and digs in. Hesitantly, you take a seat near the countertop where Tim sat across from you. Awkward silence stretched between the two of you, the boy busied himself with the pancakes and coffee.

But then you get that feeling of being watched, Tim might seem focused on his breakfast, you're not looking, but you can feel him sneaking glances at you before shifting his attention between you and his food, you try your best to treat it with indifference, it's weird but you don't address it.

“Is he always this…vague?” you try to strike a conversation with him.

“Hm? Bruce?” His head lefts from his food and looks at you. “Yep, pretty much all the time, you will get used to it soon enough.” His answer was blunt, almost as if he's trying to sabotage your attempts to start a conversation with him. And from the looks of it, he didn't seem to be in a talking mood. So you decide to stay quiet and not press too much.

Until you felt him doing it again.

From where you were sitting you can feel Tim's eyes piercing through you. If this was him trying to be subtle he was failing miserably.

At first you thought it was just him being an oddball. However his intense gaze suggested otherwise.

A part of you is aware why he was doing this, you're new here and you didn't leave a good first impression on him. He has the right to feel distrust. So you tried to ignore it, hoping that he will eventually realize that you're not a threat at all and drop it.

But he didn't.

You don't know if it's your imagination or not, but you feel like it only has increased over time. You tried your best to be patient, but it gets to a point.

When you feel like you couldn't take it anymore, you decide to voice your thoughts. “Do you tend to glare a hole into the people you have conversations with or is it just me? I'm sorry I feel compelled to know.” you ask politely.

And from the way he freezes, you can tell your question took him off guard and that he didn't notice he was doing it. “Sorry, force of habit, did I make you uncomfortable?” he apologizes, scratching the back of his neck.

You grimace, “I would be lying if I said the stare made me feel nice.” Truth be told, it was borderline unnerving and he had been doing it for a while now.

Tim's face turns sheepish at that. He had sworn that he would stop being suspicious and not develop it into a habit, but his detective tendencies got the better of him. Bruce's paranoia was starting to rub off on him and not in a good way.

“I…” he started, but nothing came out, the words got stuck in his throat.

That's when realization dawned on you, “...let me guess, my brother done an awful lot of idiotic stuff and it led you to conclude that I would be the same?” You try not to sound too exasperated.

Tim pursed his lips into a thin line. Your guess was on spot. Any response he had on the tip of his tongue was immediately swallowed back, and now he feels like a child being scolded, now that he hears it, he feels ridiculous for thinking that way.

his silence makes your frown deepens. “Listen, just because we're twins, doesn't mean we're alike in everything. I'm different, we both are. Right now I'm working hard to get out of his shadows and the league of assassins in general, I want to build a life outside of it and I don't want to be chained to that part of my life anymore, this is particularly the reason why I'm here.”

Tim furrows his brows as he listens to you rant, he can't help but grimace. Once you are done, he stares at you for a long minute, he knows he should probably say something, but for once, his brain isn't catching up with what he just heard from you. Deep down, he knew you ran away from Nanda parbat for that reason after he learned about the argument you had with your mother—Richard explained everything to him—yet he still had his doubts, but now that you blurt it out for him, who is he to blame you?

Finally he manages to collect his thoughts and gathers up the courage to reply to you. “Listen, I—” just as he was about to speak, the sound of the door bell breaks the minute, and much to his chagrin you immediately get up from the stool.

“I'll get the door.” You say dryly and walk out of the kitchen leaving Tim on his own again. And once again, the silence settles back in, but this time, it's heavy with the weight of unspoken words, his hand rack through his hair in frustration.

He should really figure out a way to smooth the bumps he created before this developes into something nasty.

The hideout is silent, save for the sound of the punches and grunts of kids in the training room, each swing echoes in the area, while Rose Wilson—ravager keeps them under her watch, the vast majority of them were about 13 to 18, homeless or poor or both, she doesn't know the full details, but Slade says they weren't kidnapped, they came here willingly, he offered to take them in, provide them with food and shelter, for a small price in exchange. Yeah, as if, she hardly believes his words.

Of course he hadn't said what kind of price he demanded, he's smart enough not to reveal too much information. She kind of wishes she knows, his record with children is less than stellar, she gets the inkling it's something Odious.

But who cares? Today's secret is tomorrow's common knowledge. She will eventually pry the information out of him. Her eyes rove over the area before her gaze landed on a kid trotting toward her. His breathing was labored, beads of sweat forming on his forehead made it clear that he was exhausted.

“Can I have a break?…” he pleaded. From the looks of it, his muscles were screaming at him. And ravager doesn't blame him, he had been training nonstop for the past three hours, and the boy didn't look athletic in the slightest.

“Sure thing bud, just make sure the captain doesn't catch you slacking off.”

“Thank you!” the boy cries, and instantly bolts to the break room for a breather. Rose watch as he briskly dashed there, she almost feels pity for him. She shaking her head in sympathy as her eyes catches Respawn marching over with a scowl plastered on his face, he was clearly in a foul mood. “Gee, who pissed in your cereal?”

“I just got stuck with the worse task ever.” he scoffs, kicking the dirt for emphasis.

her eyebrows quirk. “Care to share?”

“Slade assigned me to spy on Damian's sister and gather Intel.” he practically grits the words and rose grimaces. “Wow, tough luck. Alright then, Break a leg.” She claps a hand on his shoulder, and respawn let's out a low groan.

“How am I exactly supposed to do it!? It's bad enough that she's technically under surveillance by her family!” He throws his hand in a dramatic show of exasperation, meanwhile rose waves her hands and attempts to placate him. “Hey, hey, you're just supposed to gather some basic information, right? You don't have to spy on her all day long.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Still too much of a job. I had no problem spying on Damian, he goes against his dad's orders and each slip made it easier for me to get info. but this one is too much of a goody-two-shoe, doesn't argue, doesn't sneak out or any of that crap, I just have my work cut out for me.”

Rose pats him on the back, “there, there, drama queen. No need for all that fuss. Soon enough, she will have to go somewhere where her family can't be there, I'm sure they can't keep her under their watch forever.”

pauses, he gets a distant look in his eyes losing himself in a thoughts for a second as an idea dawned on him. “Rose…” he calls. His head slowly raises as his gaze meets hers. “Do you know where's that Eric boy we just caught? I would like to chat with him.”

“Hm?...” her eyebrows furrow at the almost sinister grin he had.

"If you really needed help why not ask your children? You rarely ever ask anyone outside of gotham for help." Clark says to Bruce through the phone speaker, it's rare for Bruce to call him, but it's even rarer for him to ask for help. He doesn't turn him away, he would never, but it's hard not to question why bruce would need his help in matters that didn't regard the justice league's business.

"I have a sneaking suspicion that Slade is alive, either that or one of his proteges are involved."

"And?..."

Bruce pauses in the line, after a long minute of silence he answers. "And I don't want them to be involved as much as possible, I get the feeling that the culprit has something planned for them in store,” he trails off for a split second before he continues “Once Nightwing and redhood are done gathering Intel I will ask them to step out. Do not tell them I told you that." Normally, Bruce was a man of logic, but he trusted his guts above all, after all it's what kept him alive this far.

As much as the thought of asking for help dreads him, he doesn't mind putting his pride and ask for his team's assistance.

Clark is quiet after hearing Bruce's reasoning, he still doesn't exactly understand his point, hadn't his children face greater threats before and came out unscratched? but then again working with Bruce taught him not to question his orders much. The situation must crucial if Bruce is willingly stepping out of his shell to ask for his help. "...Fine, I'll be there by dinner."

"Good, you can bring the rest of your family, I'm sure Damian will appreciate Jonathan's company." With that Bruce ends the call and Clark let's out a resigned sigh.

Bruce just can't outwardly say that he's feeling lonely?

Conner who was sitting nearby only chuckles at the entire display. "Don't mind him dad, he's as emotionally available as a brick wall." He quips.

Clark let's out a humorless laugh, shaking his head at that, "Talking to a brick wall would be easier." a thin smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “I can hardly get some words through his thick skull.”

"Guess we have no choice but to go to the manor." Conner says feigning dismay.

“Wait, we're going to the manor?” Jonathan’s head perked up, it had been a while since he visited Damian. “Dad, can I head there first?” he chirps, the boy pleads with the biggest puppy dog eyes he could muster. “Pretty pleaseeee?”

“Want some extra time with Damian? Sure, go ahead.” Clark nods. Making Jon's eyes lit up, the boy practically levitate with excitement as he races to the door.

“Hold it Jonathan!” Lois calls from the kitchen, and Jon stops in his tracks. Lois walks out of the kitchen carrying a bag, she hands it to him. “Here, take this with you, some pastries your father had baked, share it with your Damian, there's enough for Bruce and others too.”

“Oof—” Jonathan grunts as he felt the weight of the bag dropped on him, but he holds himself just fine, he hasn't fully unlocked his superpowers but he's strong enough to carry some baked goods. “Alright mom, see ya!”

With a cheerful wave of his hand, he departs and heads to the Wayne manor.

Conner waves back at Jon before turning to Clark. “...you think there's a catch?” he jests, half joking half serious. And Clark answers with a shrug, “with Bruce? There's always a catch.”

AUTHOR NOTE → phew, *whips sweat* Haha this chapter was a struggle to write, I'm happy it's done (Even if it has mad typos 💀💀), the freaking file kept getting crashed and I felt like giving up at that point, sorry if the chapter is mid (mid is a generous word for it)

The next one will be more entertaining I promise!^^