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Heard it was not only Batfam week, but also a role reversal day???? So I scrapped all my knowledge of the boys (Under the red hood and Robin 1991/3) to create this, because I LOVE role reversals
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: DCU (Comics), Batman (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Alfred Pennyworth, Stephanie Brown, Hal Jordan, Clark Kent Additional Tags: Metahumans, Metahuman Dick Grayson, Metahuman Jason Todd, Metahuman Tim Drake, Metahuman Damian Wayne, Metahuman Cassandra Cain, Betrayal, Family Secrets, Angst, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, bruce done did a fuck up, Stress, Kidnapping, electric shock, Open Ending, Batfam Week, Batfam Week 2020 Series: Part 1 of Batfam Week 2020 Summary: Looking back, the signs are all there. But they never noticed it about themselves. They never noticed how Bruce did.
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It’s Batfam week! Here’s today’s fic, based on the prompt ‘family’!
Tagging: @speedypan @laundrymoney
(Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this week!)
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Damian sprints for the yard, the kitchen door slamming closed behind him, almost completely muffling Bruce's shouts for him to come back here this instant. Barefoot he runs through the soft green grass until he passes into the cool shade of the woods, acorns and gnarled roots jabbing at his feet.
He isn't pursued, he knows, but he keeps running to escape the tight burning in his belly, the frustration at his father's asinine 'rules' sizzling like acid in his lungs. There's fire in his chest, like he's a dragon barely containing a flame behind his back teeth. He wants to scream and fight and kick as if he's trapped in a box, but lashing out at his family never ends well for anyone. And so, he runs.
It's early afternoon, lunch is long past but dinner is far off. He has time for himself now, and he's going to use it. He can face his father at dinner, he tells himself.
After what seems like forever, Damian allows himself to slow all the way down to a walk. The roaring in his ears is softer now, replaced by his heart pounding from his run. He takes his time picking his way along the vague paths through the trees and underbrush.
It's peaceful in the woods, with birds singing, a soft breeze blowing in the treetops. It's warm, but the shade from the trees keeps it from getting unbearably hot here in the shade. Wildflowers blossom in the sunny patches between the trees. Chipmunks and squirrels dash through the tall grass and fallen leaves.
He wanders down a path that seems a bit more worn, like it's actually been used in the past eight hundred years. Tries to take deep, calming breaths, tries to regain himself while his hands are still shaking and his muscles still tense.
The path is mostly smooth dirt, easier on his bare feet than the rocks and twigs, but it's sheltered from the breeze, and he's sweating in a matter of moments.
Wildflowers line this path almost as neatly as if they'd been planted there purposely. Bees buzz from side to side over the path, big fat bumblebees with loudly humming wings. He stays alert to make sure he doesn't step on any. One lands on his t-shirt anyway.
“I'm not a flower.” He informs it gently, nudging it with one finger, feeling the soft fuzz of its body while it crawls thoughtfully along the light fabric.
It seems to consider him for a moment, decides he's not as interesting as the forget-me-nots in the grass, and buzzes away.
Damian watches it go, allows himself a small smile, and keeps walking.
The path crests a hill and a clearing opens up before him. Near the center stands a massive oak tree, its branches full with leaves and spread wide to catch the sunlight. Nestled in the center of the branches, there's a small hut-like structure, secured to the tree.
He pauses at the edge of the clearing and frowns.
The structure is too crude for actual long-term inhabitance, but too permanent to be some kind of camp. The clearing is quiet except for birds and buzzing insects, which suggests that no one is inside. Still, he approaches it cautiously.
Several boards are screwed sideways into the tree trunk to create a rough ladder. A rope also hangs from one side of the structure and is swinging gently. He ignores both and climbs up the tree itself, scraping his bare knees on the rough, dark tree bark on the way.
He stands on a branch about level with the treehouse, trying to investigate from afar before he steps inside.
It's small enough that an adult would be unable to stand straight inside, and square. There's a large, open window on two sides opposite each other, and a hatch in the bottom where one would enter from the ladder. Inside he can see a very old, very faded little rug, and some shelves.
Convinced no one is inside, Damian steps onto the windowsill, waits to be sure the old wood will hold his weight, and then hops inside.
He breaks a spiderweb on his way through the window, and grumbles to himself while he brushes sticky, invisible tendrils off of his skin.
The inside of the treehouse is sparse. Besides the old rug on the floor, there's a small set of shelves with a few old toys, and a bunch of children's drawings tacked to the windowless walls. Leaves are piled and rotting in the corners, while spiders and various other insects crawl on the walls. There's a wood plank screwed to the wall over the drawings, words carefully painted onto it.
The Robin (and Batgirl) Cave.
Damian blinks.
Most of the drawings on the wall are a bit faded, or water damaged, or torn from wind and age, but he can still see their original images.
Silly pencil drawings of a boy and a girl running on rooftops. A boy throwing a batarang at an awkward and out of proportion version of the Riddler. Childish designs for impractical vehicles and gadgets and clothes.
On the opposite windowless wall, a large sheet of poster board is cut and decorated to look like a smaller version of the batcomputer in the Cave. It's a detailed reproduction, clearly done by an older child. Far down in the right-hand corner, it's signed.
The robin-computer, by JT
He turns to look back at the drawings on the first wall. Some of those are signed. Drawings by 'Babs', 'D', and 'JT'. He spots a set of flourescant-colored post it notes in the corner, sporting a pen doodle comic of a stick-figure Robin winning a dance-off with Mr. Freeze. It's signed with a simple 'Tim, 2011'.
'D + K' is drawn in a tiny heart near the floor in pen.
A goofy doodle of batman, his eyes pointing different directions and his tongue sticking out, is drawn on the wall in a wider marker above that, boldly signed with 'JT' like a challenge. There are several similar drawings in other places on the wall, all signed.
On the floor, in the corner, half covered by leaves, he finds an old faded photo, water damaged from rain and weather. A polaroid of all things.
It features a little red-haired girl, hanging upside-down by her knees from a tree branch. She's holding the camera out at arm's length, while a boy about her age with dark hair and bright blue eyes hangs beside her, though only from one leg. Both are smiling like they're in the middle of laughing, sunlight streaming through the leaves and causing a bright lens flare right in the center that nearly hides them both.
He sets the photo down on the dusty shelf, beside beat-up action figures, feeling like a black hole has just opened in his chest.
This space, this 'robin cave', has apparently been shared by all the Robins. Why hadn't anyone told him about it?
He's an outsider, again. An unwanted add-on to the family already established here. They hadn't told him about the treehouse because he didn't deserve it, he wasn't really one of them. He feels a little dizzy and tells himself it's the heat.
When he turns to climb back out of the window, something decidedly more recent than the drawings catches his eye. It's an envelope, taped to the wall beside the window where it has the best chance of being hidden from the elements. Damian's name is written on the front in neat cursive.
He frowns at it, tugs it gently off of the wall, and opens it. Inside is a letter, neatly written in Grayson's handwriting.
Congratulations on finding THE ROBIN CAVE, Dami!
Damian blinks, glances around, looks back at the letter.
I'm sorry I coudn't just come out and tell you about this place, but it's kind of a tradition for the Robins to find it by themselves. I forgot about it once I grew out of it, and then Jason found it and made it his own. Then Tim found it himself and made it his, too. Now it's yours! I hope you have fun with it, I know we sure did.
It's signed with a flourish, as if Grayson were signing some vital document. Damian rolls his eyes.
P.S.- Welcome to the 'running away from Bruce' family, since I'm sure that's how you'll find it. It's how Jay did. :)
Damian tucks the letter back into its envelope, looking around the treehouse again, with new eyes. It needed proper windows, he decided, and a light or two, for any possible nighttime use. Maybe he could get Jon to help him carry out the necessary equipment to make some improvements.
The letter still gripped in his hands, he climbs out of the window and back to the tree branch, then down to the ground, and heads back towards the house with a new determination.
