In which LEGO Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, and Tim Drake are Nightwing, Red Hood, and Red Robin respectively, only to come home to Damian Wayne holding their beloved title of Boy Wonder, and the Man Upstairs seems to have decided to destroy them all. [feat. afab trans nonbinary Tim Drake, trans boy Dick Grayson, and an imagining of the story in liveaction.]
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2. Ch. 1

Tim was well past the age of being able to call herself "Boy Wonder". They all were; it has been over a decade since they had each donned the title and costume for the first time.

Alfred had called her that morning, asking her to please come by; it would make Bruce so happy, and wouldn't it be nice if they were all together as a family again? It would, she supposed, though when they were children they were much closer. They had grown apart somewhat over these past few years, in between their nighttime vigilantism and their own lives.

Dick had been in Jump City for a while before becoming Nightwing and Jason had died only to be brought back to life, and she was...well.

She still missed being Robin. Missed Gotham, as they all undoubtedly did. Being Red Robin wasn't the same as being the Boy Wonder. The latter was a part of her that she couldn't just erase. It was an integral part of her that she couldn't tell people about, and that was, perhaps, the worst part of it. So many of her memories came from being Robin, so many parts in her life that made her what she was today. It was cheesy and cliched to say that, she knew, but it was true.

Her brothers had found it easier to let that part of themselves go, but they had given up the Boy Wonder mantle well before she did. They'd had more time to adjust to not being Robin anymore. It had only been, what, two or three years since she'd stopped being Robin? She'd only been seventeen when she gave up the mantle, just about to turn eighteen. When Kon-El altered reality, bringing Jason back to life, it had also cost her being Robin. Jason had taken up being Red Hood, and she had--

Bruce had asked her to live the rest of her teenage years out normally, as Tim rather than Robin. She shouldn't have to live out the rest her childhood as a hero, he'd said, like the former part of her childhood wasn't riddled with memory gaps of her birth parents, with no idea of who they were. Being Robin had given her an identity

Being at Brentwood was--it wasn't enjoyable, to say the least. Despite the fact that it wasn't that far from Gotham - rather close to it, in fact - it still felt like worlds away. Maybe it was the fact that she was being asked to be this normal version of herself like normal for her wasn't being Robin, wasn't being referred to and known as one of Bruce Wayne's children --

Or maybe it was the fact that her biological father was nearby Brentwood, wanting to know her. In all fairness, they had thought each other dead; of course he would want to know the child he had recently found out was alive. But she'd had no interest in it, despite all her wondering who her biological parents were.

...both her biological parents were dead now, though. She can't say that she misses her biological father when she hardly knew him, but it was certainly disappointing that she never did get to know him all that well before his untimely murder by Captain Boomerang.

If living up to Dick and Jason's versions of Robin had been hard, trying to be a normal person was even harder.


They all arrive at the manor at the same time, some sort of coincidence or maybe Alfred just called them all on the same day, but either way it is an odd sort of feeling to be back in Gotham, back at the manor. Anyone who didn't know them would likely never assume they were siblings - that is, anyone new to Gotham, at least.

Dick runs at Tim and Jason, scoops them up in the tightest hug he can manage. Tim laughs into his shoulder where Jason protests, trying to squirm his way out. It was freezing outside, Gotham being most infamous for its extreme winters if not for its crime rate, so they head in quickly before any part of the former Robins can break off in the cold.

The manor was still, of course, as grand as he remembers it, with perhaps a few more things around; their childhood still exists within these walls, most of it hidden deep underneath the manor - it was a shame, really, that all their identities as Robin were secret.

What was your childhood like? people ask. He cannot exactly say, Oh, I fought crime on a nightly basis with Batman! Needless to say, their childhoods were...unorthodox. College had been a bit easier; by that time, he was no longer Robin, but old habits were hard to break and he would often find himself missing that life, walking around Gotham like it was still his to protect.

They've all seen the new Robin in the newspapers, some dark haired young boy about sixteen or so. None of them know if this new Robin had even had a predecessor that wasn't Tim. The Joker still hadn't ceased with all his flamboyant, evil plans, being Batman's greatest enemy and all; Dick was surprised the villain hadn't been here when he'd arrived - after all, the Joker was basically his second dad, and Dick was sure he wouldn't want to miss them all being back at the manor.

Despite knowing the fridge was full with just about nothing but lobster thermidor, he opens it again for the umpteenth time as though new food would somehow magically appear this time around. He shut the fridge door, only to be startled by an unfamiliar face behind it.

"Surely you know," they say, "that there is nothing but thermidor?" Their expression is blank of emotion, as was their tone, but everything about them seems matter of fact.

"...who are you?" They hadn't been here when he, Jason, and Tim had arrived...had they? That had only been a few hours before, and Dick was sure he had only seen Alfred and the Batdad so far.

"So he hasn't told you yet," this new person murmurs to themselves, a small strand of hair falling in their face.

"Told us what?" Dick says, exasperated with their way of avoiding things.

They look him in the eye, their eyes a stormy, steely grey, so different from his own soft brown. "...that I'm his son."

"Yeah? So am I, though, I mean..." Dick shrugs, a small, nervous laugh escaping him. He pauses when he notices the way this new blue eyed boy is looking at him, like he's just not getting something. "What, you don't mean his biological son--?"

"I do." He says it so bluntly, so matter-of-fact, that Dick doesn't really register it until he's left. There had been a challenge in those grey eyes, daring Dick to question the truth of his words.

He must be the new Robin they've been seeing; that dark haired boy who showed up in the papers no younger than he or Jason or Tim when they had been Robin.

His heart twists a little at the thought of the blunt, blue eyed boy he'd just met as Robin, bearing the Boy Wonder title. It twists at the thought of his padre's biological son being Robin when it has always been a beacon of hope for the orphans - how it had been one even for him. It had been something to hold on then, when he still thought Batman and Bruce Wayne were separate people, when he hadn't come out as a trans boy yet--

The identity of Robin has done and been so many things for him. For Jason and Tim, too. They were a family of orphans, and here came along this new boy who is so young to him, who is not even an orphan, who had a mother somewhere and an actual relation to Bruce--

Dick had never doubted that Batdad considered him to be his son and yet...what about this new Robin, who is related to him in every way?

By the time he's gotten to his room, he's so anxious over whoever this new Robin was that he asks the Batcomputer to tell him everything, if there was anything redeemable about the cold stranger he'd met in the kitchen.

"The role of Robin is currently occupied by Damian Wayne," Batcomputer chirps dutifully, "previously known as Damian al-Ghul; preceded in the role of Robin by Tim Drake..." Hmm, so that was that solved. Dick had noticed how Damian hadn't looked all that much like Bruce, seeming to take after his mother - some woman named Talia, according to 'Puter - and the only things that Damian seemed to take from Bruce were the hair color and the charmingly untamable hair, minus the charm.

Everything else about Damian Wayne was stiff and calculating, the polar opposite of his predecessors. Dick couldn't help but wonder where Damian's mother was, if she was even alive. He wasn't the detective Tim was, or he would have figured that out by now. She'd have had Damian's identity figured out by now, too; among the three of them, Tim was the clever one where Jason was the tough one and he was...the acrobat. The original Robin, if that was anything to take pride in. He had been the start of this role. Granted, he had been twelve and had only picked out the name Robin because he liked the bird, wasn't that funny?

Golly, he was being awfully pessimistic about all this. Damian was a decent Robin, from what he could tell from the newspapers.

Still, for whatever reason, he cannot bring himself to believe this was real.


Jason's old Robin outfit was still in the Batcave. The only one that was displayed like some sort of awful reminder of his death.

It wasn't like he particularly missed that variant of the Robin outfit - it had booty shorts, for God's sake; he'd narrowly missed having "bottom text" written across it as the consequence of a bet - but it was pretty messed up to have the outfit he literally died in on display.

He thinks of Dick with his Robin outfit, donning the underwear from the Batman costume it used to be. Jason really missed a lot of bullets with this Robin deal. Tim was the one who got lucky with the outfit; somehow she'd managed to snag a pair of actual pants on the thing. Well, skintight leggings, technically, but they counted as pants. 

It's a bit odd to think of his death now, how he had been killed in the crossfire of one of Batman and Joker's fights. It seems like it never happened now, obviously, but it felt like such a far away memory, remembering it through this secondhand sorrow of his family's. He had never been all that close to Tim or Dick, though they both tried to form this close familial bond with him. He had begrudgingly put up with it back then, but he can't help but wonder now if that might have been a mistake. 

It wasn't in his nature to be the pure kind of nice that Dick was, nor did he have the strong sense of morality Tim did, having had to survive on his own on Gotham's streets for that first part of his childhood. He's a bit scared to think now that if he hadn't become Robin, he actually might have become some sort of criminal, taken up Gotham's brand of villainy. Under the right circumstances, he might have become one of Batman's enemies instead of--

Instead of his son.


Damian was never a sentimental person. Over these past six years as Robin, he had been careful not to get too attached to the name and title as his three predecessors so clearly did. It was clear in the way the original had reacted to his being Robin, or the way the second - the most like him in temperament, according to Alfred - was still bitter about his unavenged death and the way he saw the third as his replacement, in the way his immediate predecessor struggled to let go of his own identity as Robin. 

He has yet to see the third Robin, who has still not yet emerged from wherever he had disappeared to when he'd arrived with the other two. Damian had his heart set on proving his right to the Boy Wonder mantle by defeating Tim Drake in a fight, to the death if necessary. He was sure that his own skills were superior to Tim Drake's, so defeating him would be an easy feat. Despite Batman's obvious pride that he harbored for them all, Damian held his skills in the utmost superiority to the past Robins. 

It is a few days before he meets Tim, longer than he'd have liked. He is surprised, needless to say, to find that the Boy Wonder preceding him is, in fact, a Girl Wonder - "Boy Wonder," she would snap at him later, clearly annoyed by the way he called her Girl Wonder so flippantly. Damian doesn't miss the small smile Bruce tries to hide at this. These sorts of things were never ones he bothered to understand, though he found unnecessary conflict even more tiring than trying to understand whatever problem Tim Drake found with being called Girl Wonder, so he allowed the matter to drop (he would find out much later that Tim was not the kind of person to let matters like this drop). 

Everything everyone did around here was so predictable. It is almost too easy, being Robin, when the plans of Gotham's villains were laid out for them by the villains themselves. (The Joker is especially guilty of this.) 

Despite the rest of Gotham's predictability, he found it...difficult to predict his three predecessors. Even his father is more predictable than them, or perhaps Damian is simply being led to believe that Bruce Wayne was predictable. But Dick, Jason, and Tim, on the other hand, steered well clear of him. He had yet to challenge Tim to a fight to prove both their worth as Robin - well, mostly his. 

He has not seen the way any of the former Robins fight, never seen them in action, but he has seen the way they all stand tall and proud, some imaginary wind blowing their former cape back forever, seen the way they move so fluidly, seen the way it is so second nature to them, like they were born into the role of Robin. Maybe they were, unlike he was - his mother had sent him here to disrupt his father's work as Batman, he knew, but instead he found that he wanted to be Robin, with a genuinity he didn't know he was capable of.


The manor still felt so big, and she so small. Tim couldn't help but remember when she had seen the inside of the place for the first time, seen how grand it was. It still is, even after this past decade. Linh - Lucy, really, but they already knew a Lucy, and so this Lucy began going by her middle name - was still here, ever present. It had been three years since Linh had attempted suicide and found herself washed up by the manor instead. Everyone had thought her to be dead, so it simply became easier for Linh to stay in the manor, hidden away from Gotham. 

Tim still remembers when they had been a thing for a while, when she had still been Robin and Linh still alive in the government database. They'd split before she'd gone off to Brentwood, of course - herself because of her leaving and Linh for the reason that it had been Tim's Robin she had fallen for rather than Tim herself, and she couldn't subject Tim to that knowing it wasn't Tim she had wanted, not Tim she had--

. . .

...but enough about that. 

Returning from trying to be normal, returning from Brentwood, was so easy she might not have believed she had ever lived through that stretch of her life. It wasn't so easy stepping back into the manor, into this old life of luxury she somehow still wasn't used to even after so many years living here. She supposed it was because some part of her subconscious was still used to having so little that luxury like this was something beyond her wildest dreams.

Her brothers weren't all that used to it, either. She stood outside Dick's bedroom door now, reluctant to even knock, to say something about Damian being Robin, though at this point he'd probably already dug up most of what she could've found in minutes. 

Damian was aggravating, to say the least. She was not fond of him, not after the way he'd so condescendingly looked at her and called her "Girl Wonder", disregarding everything she had done and been as the Boy Wonder. He'd dropped the matter after she'd snapped at him about it, but she was not the type of person to let matters like that drop so easily. Dick on the other hand, seemed to have resigned himself to Damian being Robin. 

The door that connected hers and Dick's rooms alongside the door that connected hers and Jason's and the one that connected Jason's to Dick's had led them to use Dick's room as a hub of sorts for their activity, a meeting point for the things they wouldn't - couldn't - go to Bruce for. Damian as Robin was one of them. Dick, kind soul that he was, had never minded much when they wandered in, looking for comfort or a talk or to allay any fears they might have had - Tim especially, when the life she had built as Robin was suddenly dashed to pieces by Bruce asking her to be normal. He'd always been this golden big brother for her and Jason; she cannot imagine what it must be doing to him for the role of Robin to be taken by the very boy who was Bruce's only biological son, what it must mean for all of them if this meant that Bruce had chosen his own flesh and blood over them.

She walks in at long last, pausing at the uncharacteristically hardened expression on Dick's face, some twisted version of his normally cheerful disposition. 


He unfreezes at this, at Tim's familiar voice. Tim noticed the sudden change back to his normally cheerful self, but it felt like a mere echo compared to the full intensity of it. 

"...what is it, baby bird?" God, Tim can hear the exhaustion in that one sentence; more than she's heard in Dick's voice in a long time. Of course, Bruce had never let them be Robin when it became evident that they were wearing themselves down with it, but they were no longer Robin and Bruce couldn't exactly tell them to give up their nighttime vigilantism, not when he was the one who had instilled that in them. "Tim?" 

Her breath catches in her throat before she can speak, a sudden bout of hesitation, before she can say anything about Damian's mother and grandfather being supervillains. They were--they were infinitely more dangerous than any of Gotham's own villains, who paled to cheap imitations compared to Talia and Ra's al-Ghul, more formidable than any of the other villains they had faced outside of Gotham; she's scared to think what might happen to them if Damian exposed all this - the manor, the Batcave, their identities - to his mother and grandfather, of what might happen to them if Talia and Ra's come after them and one or all of them dies like Jason did, she couldn't live with that if she was the only one left a l i v e-- 

She faintly hears Jason enter, say, "H--what happened to Tim?"

"Jason--! Ah, panic attack, I think; find Batdad or Grandpa, Jason, will you? Hey, baby bird," she hears Dick croon, gently, gently, "shh, you're alright--"

It is the last thing she hears before everything feels like it's been encased in a bubble, muffled and blurred and--


She opens her eyes to Dick and Bruce leaning over her in worry. Damian - the precocious little brat - was in the corner of the Batcave, staring at her from across the room with an intensity she'd only ever seen from Jason.

The bubble around the world had popped, finally, and nothing sounded muffled anymore. Her ears were still ringing, though; beyond that she can hear Dick practically screeching, "TIM, DON'T DO THAT AGAIN THAT WAS TERRIFYING!" and Bruce's quiet, grumbling sort of worry. Jason was nowhere to be found. 

(Damian had broken that brief moment of eye contact they'd had; she could almost swear she'd seen the smallest flicker of concern in those sharp grey eyes of his, even from so far away.) 

"Sorry," she mumbles against the cotton of Dick's shirt (the trademark Robin red as usual), pressing her face into her brother's shoulder. 

"For what?" Bruce raises an eyebrow at her; she can feel his Batman Stare™ even despite the fact she cannot look anyone in the eye right now. 

...she doesn't know what she is apologizing for. She doesn't know, she doesn't know--

. . .

. . .

She really doesn't know.


Dick was worried about Tim, maybe more than he needed to be. Tim was still reeling, he thinks, from having Robin snapped up from under her feet. Reeling, too, from Damian taking up the role of Robin. They were all reeling from that. 

He'd resigned himself to it, though, figuring it wasn't something he could change anymore than he was able change Jason or Tim being Robin. The most he could do then was make sure they filled in the role with the proper skill set, make sure they filled in the role of Robin with the same passion he had. It was probably the most he could for Damian now, too.

It might've been hard for Tim to admit, but Damian needed Robin more than any of them ever did - his own mother was a supervillain, and so was his grandfather. This was, perhaps, the only time he'd ever known he'd even had a father, or that Bruce knew he had a biological son. 

And yet, somehow, it still stung that it was Damian, of all people, who had taken up-- 

This was repetitive. His own life was repetitive, in a way, with all the deaths that occurred within it, his parents and Jason being two of them. 

Jason was taller than him now. Goodness, the little wing had grown up when he wasn't there to see it and he could never forgive himself for that. (He tries not to think about the little brother who died in that warehouse all those years ago. Jason had come back, but not the little brother he had known.) 


Jason tried not to think about the scrawny little boy who had died in that warehouse all those years ago. He was taller than Dick now, and he had come home ready to lord it over him, but Dick had started crying and hugged him and had apologized through the tears for not being there to see it. 

He tried not to think about the little boy who died in that warehouse all those years ago. That little boy hadn't come back to life with him. 

Kon-El had brought him back to life but not the boy who died in that warehouse, childishly innocent and idealistic and naive like Dick was as a child. 

He had been left to die. He wasn't going to make the same mistakes Batman did then, wouldn't leave his siblings unavenged like Batman left him--


Damian was never a sentimental person. He had not allowed himself to get attached to Robin, nor would he allow himself to get attached to his father's other children like they were his own siblings by blood. 

"Computer, tell me of Tim Drake," he ordered, eyes steady, hands clasped behind him. 

TIMERRY CASSIAN DRAKE blinked onto the computer's screen. Born to Jack and Janet Drake; preceded in the role of Robin by Jason Peter Todd, succeeded by Damian Wayne; age 20; current superhero identity is Red Robin. 

When had she taken up another hero identity? Surely, he or his father would have known if Tim had taken up vigilantism again if she had been in Brentwood, so close to Gotham. Then again, his father hadn't realized that Dick Grayson was in the manor until after a week of his being there. 

The photo that the computer had given of Tim was one of when she was Robin, flying across rooftops. The costume in its entirety is different from his own, and from those of her brothers; it was clearly made to include increased protection: an armored tunic, for one, and the gorget. The cape draped differently around her shoulders than it would around the shoulders of a typical female, settling on broad shoulders and a lean, lithe body. 

He's seen her old bo staff lying around from her days as Robin; Damian can only assume she had acquired a newer one for the purpose of being Red Robin. She would not be an easy opponent, that was for sure, but she would not be difficult to defeat, not if he was the one to defeat her. 

He'd been waiting for this for these past six years. 


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