#commlines

Dick: You and Bruce are getting along now?

Jason: I wouldn't go that far. We haven't been at each other's throats for a week.

Dick: I noticed. What's that about?

Jason: There can't be development on my part? Maybe I'm growing up. Maturity can be sexy.

Dick: *holding back a laugh* N-No. I didn't say that! There can be, of course. *voice gets high-pitched* I'm just so proud of you.

Jason: *laughing* You're a jackass. *pauses* I had a revelation the other week. So Damian and I are hanging out and he'd been bothering me about going to that new bookstore that opened in Burnside-

Dick: *humming* Yeah, Barbara was talking to me about it.

Jason: He's wandering around and I stumble across a book called " Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents", I start reading it and it's making fucking sense.

Dick: *cackles*

Jason: *smacking sounds* No, listen. I don't fully agree with the whole " it's their first time living too" bullshit. But if my parents got nerfed in front of me at 8, I'd harbor some mixed feelings towards guns.

Dick: Oh my god, Jay. *snorting* You are so fucking awful.

Jason: And he's been emotionally stunted since then and it didn't help that Alfie- god bless his British heart- supported him by letting him create a repressed fursona and leap off buildings at the age of 19. I'd be fucked mentally too if I was dressed as a flying mammal at a critical time in my development.

Dick: * laughing* So the only reason you're getting along with B is because you pity him?

Jason: Pretty much. What? If it works, it works. We can't afford to be picky here, Dickie.

*comm pings*

Damian: Nightwing, Hood. What is the status update on the delivery truck that is rumored to be entering the Bowery tonight?

Jason: *sarcastically* Oh, were we suppose to be looking out for that?

Damian: Imbeciles. You were tasked with one simple job-

Jason: Don't get your nuts twisted. I was joking. No movement.

*comm line is silent for a brief moment*

Dick: Tim, have you heard the news? Jay picked up a groundbreaking novel from a hip new bookstore and figured out the key to getting along with B. You just have to pity him.

Damian: I was there with him. He picked up the book and lifted it up like that children's movie you love, the one about the panthers where he is crowned king-

Jason: Do you mean the Lion King? *cackles*

Damian: *ignoring him* And proclaimed quite loudly " THIS IS IT. THIS IS THE ANSWER."

Tim: *off guard* What?

Damian: I do not understand why we must pity Father. By all accounts, he is a respectable and influential individual in Gotham.

Jason: Hello? Your old man has so much trauma, it’s fucking astonishing that he’s functioning.

Damian: Your biological father beat you over the head with a baseball bat, ask me if I show you any pity.

Tim: *laughing* He has a valid point, Jason. Can you truly build a functional relationship because you have compassion over eight year old B?

Jason: I don't see you getting along with Bruce. You argue with him too.

Tim: *snorting* Occasionally and that's because of whatever your book probably said. He pushes people away, doesn’t connect emotionally, yadayadayada.

Damian: Is there a reason you do not refer to Father by a parental name such as Dad or a " pops" like most Western children do?

Dick: I have never heard a child refer to their parent as " pops" outside of a Little Rascals episode.

Tim: Robin, got eyes on your target?

Damian: *humming* On your mark, RR.

Jason: I only call B " dad" when I'm feeling like a little shit and want to get under his skin. But maybe I should try again. In a different approach.

Dick: I think I referred to him by that a few times and one of them was when I was delirious with a fever. The furniture started looking like people.

Damian: *grunting, punching noises* I did not expect that considering you are the one that argued with Father the most.

Tim: *panting* Stop kicking me, asshole. Rob, tie up this one with the rest and alert GCPD. So true. You and B had a full on brawl in the Cave when Hood died.

Dick: *sucking his teeth* People grieve in many different ways...

*comm pings*

Oracle: I accidentally called him Dad once by mistake and he teared up so quickly that I was disgusted. I had to be like “ No. NO. IT WAS AN ACCIDENT.”

Tim and Dick: *bursting into laughter*

Jason: Ripped the hope and dreams right out of his furry hands.

Damian: Do you think Father replays that moment in his head over and over?

Tim: Absolutely. He has to. Had the chance to have a daughter and Barbs stepped on it.

Oracle: Speaking of which…Batman is requesting to join the line.

*comm line pings*

Bruce: Can anyone provide assistance with prison transportations to Arkham? The Commissioner is requesting the extra support.

Jason: *sultry voice* Sure daddy.

Bruce: ……..

*Bruce disconnects from main line*

Tim, Dick, Jason, and Barbara: *howling with laughter*

*comm pings*

Dick: Bruce is going to call and ask which one of us changed the Batcomputer wallpaper to Batsupes fan-fic drawings.

Damian: It is nice to know that he is embracing his sexuality.

Tim: *snorts* Closet is made out of fucking glass.

Dick: Fess up. Which one of you assholes did it? I’m not taking the blame for this one.

Damian: Do not look at me, I have been on patrol with Drake for hours.

Dick: *groans* Fucking hell. Barbs, can you link us up to Jay?

Oracle: Mhm. Sure can.

*comm pings*

Jason: You have five seconds to tell me who bought the weapons drop or I’m going to kick your kneec-Hello? The fuck. I’m working right now-No, not you, dipshit. I’m on a call.

Tim: We interrupting a murder or?

Jason: Eh. Not yet. Depends what he says-Don’t worry about it. I didn’t say anything-Whatcha want?

Damian: Someone has defiled Father’s computer with Batsupes smut drawings and he is looking for the culprit.

Jason: *cackling maniacally* HOW LONG DID IT TAKE HIM TO FIND IT-*weeping* Yeah yeah you can go. I’ll just hunt ya down later, ok? PLEASE TELL ME YOU GUYS TOOK A PHOTO OF HIS REACTION.

Dick: JACKASS. You think I wanted to see that? I’m traumatized. Do you know how explicit they were?

Jason: *still weeping in laughter* What? Come on-Don’t tell me it wasn’t funny.

Damian: *giggling * Grayson, admit it. You find humor in this.

Tim: Vile. You’re vile. Dick just sent over a photo of it, it’s a THOUSAND photos of them that are formed to shape a heart.

Jason: I thought he’d appreciate my artistic talent.

Dick: What’d Bruce do now to piss you off?

Damian: As if he needs a reason.

Tim: This is why people make assumptions about you, Hood.

Jason: In comparison, to all you fucking degenerates, I was the nicest kid Bruce got.

Tim: That’s not-

Jason: Dick tried murdering Zucco at the age of nine, you were a fucking STALKER, and Damian was raised in an assassin cult in the desert.

Tim: I was not a stalker, I was just gathering information on a HUNCH that I had-

Damian: As you hid behind garbage cans with a NIKON SLR in your pajamas. Like a pervert.

Jason: *laughs*

Dick: Jay was an overachieving bastard. Straight As, perfect attendance, the media just made him out to be a heathen since he’s from Crime Alley.

Damian: *snickers* He does raise an excellent point. The majority of us were career criminals or on our way to becoming one.

Jason: Dick was a fucking menace. When he first joined the Team, he would beat up criminals and disappear while laughing. Do you know how creepy that is? Imagine getting your ass beat and before blacking out, you hear the giggle of a prepubescent 13 year old.

Tim: After you died, Bruce would cry in the Cave about how heartbroken Dick was. He said you two had ‘ such a bond.’

Jason: A BOND, MY FUCKING ASS.

Dick: We couldn’t stand each other. There was a point where anytime I entered a room, he would just start seething at me.

Jason: I was walking down the sidewalk with Dick one day because Bruce paid him to take me out for burgers and I saw one of my mom’s druggie ex boyfriends so I froze. He pauses and says, with the smuggest fucking smile, ‘ Is he one of your old daddies that smacked you around?’

Damian: *snorts*

Tim: *horrified* You said that to a fucking child?

Dick: *happily* Yes. He was a little shit head. He would intentionally flinch in public around me as a joke!

Jason: We were at a Gala once and I asked him-in front of W.E. chairmen-‘ Do I have your permission to use the bathroom?’

Damian: That’s beyond terrible. This is why Father took blood pressure medication in his early days of being Batman.

Tim: So when did you two finally become cool with one another?

Dick: Like post-Ethiopia. Once he got resurrected and came in guns blazing, I talked to him without Bruce and was like ‘ yeah he’s killing people but lowkey it’s bad people.’

Damian: *confused tone* Akhi, I thought you two had a semi-decent relationship before your death.

Jason: Yeah. Maybe a year before. We full on brawled in the Manor when I was 14 and Dick was 17.

Tim: Is that why there’s a fucking dent next to the chimney that Bruce refuses to talk about?!

Dick: *hums in agreement* Bruce ran in, trying to break us up. He ended up with a chipped tooth.

Tim: And afterwards, you guys were cool with one another?

Dick: Pretty much. It was a respect thing.

Jason: Like silverback gorillas. We needed to earn respect within the hierarchy.

Damian: That is precisely the reason why I attempted to murder Tim when I first arrived at Gotham, my respect for him *slight chuckle escapes*

Tim: You couldn’t even get through the whole sentence without breaking.

*comm pings*

Oracle: Hate to break up this very nostalgic and informative conversation but Batman is heading towards your guys’ general location.

Damian: Do not patch him through, Oracle. DO NOT PATCH HIM THROUGH.

Jason: If he asks, Dick did it.

Dick: WHAT. YOU ASSHOLES.

Tim: I second it.

Damian: I agree as well. Have fun, Grayson.

Jason: *disconnects from comm line*

Dick: What the fuck is it? I just heard it the other day! On the ground….on the streets…..

Tim: Is Dick okay? He sounds like he’s in a corner, casting spells.

Jason: He’s fucking stimming.

Dick: I am not! I’m trying to remember that audio that’s been trending! Dames-What was it? You just played it this morning! The one about boots!

Damian: I have no recollection of this…? Do we need to provide a welfare check on Dick?

Dick: On the boots recording. Like on the scene? But it involved boots.

Tim: What the fuck are you trying to say?

Dick: I am not explaining this right. I’m not cooking.

Jason: BOOTS ON THE GROUND, DUMBASS.

Tim: *cackles* mutes himself because he’s terrified if he hears another word, he’ll piss himself*

Damian: You, in fact, did not cook.

Jason: You burned. Shit’s cremated actually.

Dick: We should have cremated you, jackass.

Damian: GRAYSON!

Tim: *unmutes*STOP. I’M GOING TO PEE.

Jason: Oracle, send me Dick’s coordinates now.

Dick: Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

Damian: It was nice knowing you, Dick.

Damian: I do not see the point in attending this field trip, Father. It is completely barbaric to force minor adolescents into an overnight excursion and compel them to converse about senseless topics. I already endure five antagonizing days a week with these children; must you force me to surrender my Saturday as well?

Bruce: It could be fun. Your counselor thinks you need to spend time outside of school engaging in acceptable social activities.

Damian: Barbaric. Completely barbaric. You cannot force me to attend. I will not go.

Bruce: It’s a camping trip. I can even chaperone if you’d like—

(Comm pings and scuttling noises can be heard.)

Dick: Don’t fall for it, Dami. He’s going to say, “Oh, but I can chaperone and we’ll have so much fun and bond.” It’s a trap.

Bruce: Nightwing. No names while in masks. Why are you objecting? We had a fun time when I chaperoned you.

Dick: snorts He couldn’t tell the difference between Poison Ivy and Virginia Creepers. So guess what happened? He accidentally touches the poison ivy, shrugs like “Eh, should be alright,” and is put in charge of setting up the sleeping bags and tents—keep in mind he didn’t wash his hands—so my entire cabin woke up itchy at 2 a.m., and Bruce had to call parents to pick everyone up.

Damian: …You could not differentiate between two species of plants? Should you not be well-versed on this subject, considering you fight a woman who shares a namesake with the very plant that you almost weaponized against a cabin of minors?

Bruce: It was my first field trip with Nightwing. I was nervous and admittedly did not pay close attention to certain details.

Dick: I banned him from overnight field trips after that. Alfie had to smear cortisone cream all over my body. Not fun.

Bruce: What do you suggest, then? He does not have much social interaction with peers his age—

Damian: I do not require bonding with children my age. We may simply fabricate a lie for the counselor. I am visiting a relative out of state that day, or—

(The comm pings once more.)

Tim: Maybe we just say Damian’s on the spectrum. Wouldn’t necessarily be a lie. Didn’t you say you were gonna have him tested, Bruce?

Bruce: I—Red Robin! That is an entirely inappropriate topic of conversation during patrol.

Damian:* screeches* YOU WERE GOING TO HAVE ME TESTED WITHOUT INFORMING ME?!

Dick: Yeah, Bruce… maybe we should talk about not doing medical testing without consent?

Bruce: I was going to speak to you after the field trip, but it seems your brother decided to inform you without my explicit permission.

Tim: Hey. You were gonna test the kid without permission.

(The comm pings again. Munching is suddenly audible. Everyone pauses.)

Dick: …Jason?

Jason: munching, then burps Yeah?

Damian: What are you eating?

Tim: Eughh—can you not chew that close to the comm? It’s making me nauseous.

Jason: Swung by Batburger after my meeting. Got the Batburger Deluxe for free again.

Dick: What?! Do you get a discount? Raul always makes me pay full price!

Jason: Nah. Raul just likes me more than you. Says something about you being too fucking cheery.

Dick: I am delightful. He never said that. He likes me.

Damian: Akhi… were you aware that Father intended to have me tested for autism?

Jason: Jesus Christ, Bruce. Why is that your solution for everything? My kid doesn’t like fucking riding bikes or playing soldier—he must be autistic. Let’s test him!

Damian: He has done this before?

Jason: Oh yeah. Like a month into him adopting me, he tried it. I just kept screaming every time he got close—*snickers*—eventually he gave up.

Bruce: I care for my children. I only wanted to ensure I was doing everything in my power to make you all feel comfortable—

Jason: BULLSHIT.

Tim: That’s… really bad, Bruce. Wait—were you going to test me?

Bruce: I have all of your medical histories. There was no need to test you, Tim—you attended traditional schooling. A teacher or counselor would have observed any signs and alerted your parental figures.

Dick: *laughs*  Translation: “Tim? Nah. Damian? …Maybe.”

Jason: Trust me, I thought the kid had something when he was little—but he doesn’t. Talia already had him tested.

Damian: …Excuse me? When did Mother arrange this? I was not informed of any medical testing performed on me.

Jason: You were, like, six. That’s why. I doubt you remember it. Also—you were really into murdering, you arranged your knives in alphabetical order, and you lost your shit if anyone touched them—

Damian: I cannot have my personal belongings disturbed?

Jason: Oh my God, no one fucking said that. You would get violently upset, so I had to wear down Talia and Ra’s for months before they agreed to bring in a doctor. You’re not autistic. You just… grew up trained to murder people, and your only social circle until I showed up was other assassins. So yeah. You’re just socially inept.

Damian: You did not think to inform me that I was being tested?

Jason: I thought you knew! This dude in a white lab coat came in and did play‑based observations. Who did you think he was—Santa?

Bruce: We are getting off topic. Hood—his school counselor is concerned that Damian is unable to form healthy social relationships with his peers. He refuses to participate in the upcoming camping field trip, even after I offered to chaperone—

Dick: Bad ideaaaaa.

Bruce: If he does not wish to attend with me, then one of you may either chaperone or propose an alternative, as it is apparent that I will not win this argument.

Jason: Yeah, I say let this shit die, B. He doesn’t need friends. We barely had people our age growing up and we turned out fine.

Bruce: That sentence is entirely not okay.

Jason: I’ve got seniority here, deadbeat. I’ve been in his life longer than you have. I know what’s good for the kid.

Bruce: I—? I wasn’t aware of his existence?

Jason: OH, OH, so you’re just shooting loads everywhere without care now?

Tim: *screaming into his comm*YOU ARE FUCKING GROSS—why are you talking about—No, no, not you. You’re not gross. I’m talking to—Why are you crying?? Please stop crying—

Dick: cackling, breathless Holy shit. Tim just made a victim cry because she thought he called her gross.

Damian and Jason: *erupt into laughter*

Tim: Where are Hood and Robin?

Dick: B’s on bedrest per Agent A’s orders, so Robin’s over in Crime Alley with Hood. They’re tracking down information on a big shipment of drugs Black Mask is trying to move.

Tim: *snorts* And B actually listened to Agent A?

Dick: Absolutely not. He tried escaping a dozen times before his bad knee gave out and he tumbled down the stairs. I was trying to take a power nap when I heard him go, “AAaaGhhh.”

Tim: *lets out a loud cackle* You’d think B would be better at sneaking out.

Dick: You’d also think the old man would retire… but here we fucking are.

(The comm pings. Giggling from Damian fills the line—eerie, unsettling—and Jason cusses loudly.)

Dick: Uh… hello???

Jason: Of a Bitch—I should have left you alone with the League, but noooo. Talia wanted me to escort you to Gotham. Have you be a normal kid. Get to know Bruce, and this is how you REPAY ME?

Damian: You are being dramatic, Akhi. You asked me a simple question, to which I provided a simple answer, and now you feign offense?

Tim: What are we talking about?

Jason: What did we tell you about eavesdropping, Timmy?

Tim: Hello? You’re the one that joined our com line.

Dick: What are you guys arguing about?

Jason: Damian said I wouldn’t survive a zombie apocalypse, which is stupid because I am immortal—

Damian: Immortality and immunity are not the same thing, you imbecile—

(A smack is heard over the com line. Damian yelps.)

Jason: You gotta be older than twelve to talk. Shut up. Anyways, I’m immortal, so I’d obviously survive a zombie fucking apocalypse.

Tim: Sorry to break it to you, but Damian’s right. Immortal means you can’t die from old age; immune means you can’t be infected.

Dick: Yeah but Jason was dunked in the Lazarus Pit and that has crazy effects. Right, Damian?

Damian: Yes. Your point?

Dick: My point is that what if when he had his little swim in the Pit, he was able to obtain some super immunity to shit? That's not entirely impossible.

Jason: See? See, Damian. Someone agrees with me.

Damian: Idiocy does indeed love company...

Tim: *laughs*

Jason: Tim, you're the type of jackass who would get bitten in a zombie apocalypse and not tell anyone.

*Dick giggling*: He'll keep it a secret until the last minute and be like ' wait guys please. I meant to tell you."

Tim: What? If that's how it is, I'd quietly leave the group.

Damian: Tim is the individual who would trip over a tree branch and very melodramatically announce " Go on without me."

Tim: Hell no. I'm making a fucking scene if no one's helping me.

Jason: How are you gonna make a scene in a fucking zombie apocalypse if noise attracts them, dumbass?

Tim: GOOD. YOU BETTER HELP MY ASS THEN.

Dick: I'm going to be so honest...you're on your own.

Damian: I am walking away.

Tim: I'm screaming at the top of my lungs and they're getting you too.

Dick: No because do you remember last week on patrol? I accidentally stepped on your ankle and you threw me off the Batburger roof.

Damian: *laughs* Is that why you hobbled into the Cave looking miserable? You would not speak of what happened.

Dick: Yeah cause Tim tried to murder me-

Tim: That isn't what happened! That hurt though.

Dick: You know what else hurt? My feelings when you shoved me.

Tim: Good.

Dick: I'm stepping on the other ankle.