Archive of Our Own

There are many things that Damian does not understand. At first, his immediate response to these things was to destroy them. As he has grown and spent more time in Gotham, however, he has slowly been able to recognize what these things are and attempt to educate himself. Just because he doesn’t understand something, doesn’t mean it isn’t valuable. Richard taught him that. One of the things that Damian does not understand is Timothy Drake.

In fact, Drake is probably at the top of Damian’s list of things he does not understand, and has been for a long time. Damian’s first instinct with Drake was kill. This, he has learned, is not conducive to a healthy environment. He made several attempts at apologizing after he learned why his behavior was wrong. Drake brushed him off every time. A few months after that, Drake resigned from his CEO position and left all of his equipment in the Cave and disappeared off the face of the earth.

So Damian didn’t really have a chance to try to understand Timothy Drake. After Drake’s disappearance, the entire family seemed to realize very quickly that perhaps none of them understood him, as they all had conflicting recollections of very basic events. Damian believes his entire family is utterly incompetent for a variety of reasons, and this is one of them.

The family spent a month searching for Drake before Cassandra told them what they already knew, but didn’t want to accept: Drake clearly did not want to be found. Damian could have told them as much, but he didn’t, because no one asked him. They all assumed he was glad Drake was gone, when in truth, he was not. He likes Drake, even if he does not understand him.

That being said, Damian is not sure how he is expecting Drake’s return to the family to go, if it ever occurs. Perhaps he’ll waltz in like he never left. Perhaps he’ll be missing additional organs. Perhaps they’ll find his body somewhere. Damian secretly, desperately hopes it is not the last option.

He certainly was not expecting it to happen like this: it is two in the morning in Smallville. Damian is having what Richard refers to as a “sleep over” with Jon at his grandparents’ farmhouse. He arrived shortly after dinner and spent the evening conversing with Jon’s grandparents and playing video games before they were sent to bed. He and Jon stayed up a few more hours. It is not their first sleep over since they became best friends, and Damian hopes it will not be their last. Jon fell asleep approximately half an hour ago, and Damian forgot to bring a water bottle up to the bedroom. He knows there is bottled water in the kitchen, however, and figures he is more than quiet enough to slip downstairs without waking any occupants of the house.

He believes the clone is here, at the moment, though he did not emerge from his own bedroom while Damian and Jon were in the living room or getting ready for bed. Damian has heard his door open and close a few times, but has yet to see any sign of him. He assumes the clone is like Jon, and will sleep through any noise Damian may accidentally make.

He slips out of Jon’s room and creeps silently down the stairs. The third step from the bottom creaks, and he makes sure to carefully avoid it. There’s a rustling noise in the kitchen around the corner, and Damian is instantly on high alert. He tells himself it is almost certainly one of Jon’s grandparents, or perhaps the clone, but he can’t help but wish he had a batarang in hand.

He rounds the corner into the kitchen. Dark, messy hair and an oversized hoodie are rooting around in the refrigerator, illuminated by the small light in the otherwise dark house. Damian clears his throat, expecting the clone to turn around.

Instead, he is greeted by the sight of Timothy Drake.

He manages to catch a glimpse before the fridge door slams shut and the room is plunged into darkness: Drake’s hair is a rat’s nest, there’s a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, and he’s balancing five apples in his hands. He stares at Damian like Damian is the one who has been missing for going on eight months.

“Uh,” Drake says. Damian recognizes the shift in his posture as preparation for an escape attempt. Drake is barefoot and in boxers, and it’s the end of November in Kansas. Damian is blocking the stairs. There is nowhere for Drake to escape to. He seems to be calculating different routes anyways, and lands on the same conclusion Damian has. “Hey.”

Damian blinks once. Twice. He knew Drake was friends with the clone. Somehow, it did not occur to him that Drake’s friends or teammates may know where he was. He doesn’t think it occurred to anyone in the family to ask Drake’s friends. Which– Damian knew that their family had failed Drake terribly. Perhaps he, like the rest of them, did not want to acknowledge just what that meant.

He blinks again. There are many different ways this could go. Despite Damian’s initial misgivings with Drake, he has seen what Drake’s willing disappearance has done to their family. He knows he has very few options that would not result in Drake disappearing even more thoroughly.

“Hello,” Damian says, carefully keeping his voice as neutral as possible. “You are in the way of the refrigerator.”

He is rewarded with a half-smile that almost looks genuine. Excellent. Drake steps aside, but does not dart up the stairs the second Damian moves. He waits for Damian to grab two bottles of water (in case Jon gets thirsty in the night). He keeps waiting as Damian closes the fridge. He looks like he’s bracing for something.

“I forgot your sleepover was this weekend,” Drake says awkwardly, when Damian stares at him and says nothing. They are, at most, two feet apart. It is the closest Damian has been to Drake when not fighting an enemy, or fighting each other. Drake smells like the farmhouse. Like he’s been here for a while. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Damian asks, a bit confused. He tilts his head in a way that Richard does, sometimes. Drake has no need to apologize– if anything, Damian thinks, he is the one intruding on Drake. Drake seems perfectly at home here. Damian leans in a bit, eyes narrowing. Drake leans back, but otherwise holds his ground. Damian makes another quick assessment. If he mentions their family, Drake will likely bolt. If he mentions Drake’s disappearance, he will certainly bolt. He tries to remember how Richard treated Todd, when Todd was hesitant about rejoining the family. He tries to remember everything Alfred has taught him about human interaction. He must take too long, because Drake tries to side-step him and head for the stairs. Damian’s hand shoots out to grab Drake’s arm on instinct, which Drake avoids, but he stops moving.

“I apologize,” Damian says. He has gotten better at that. “I did not mean to grab at you. I merely wish to make sure you know that my presence for this weekend does not change anything.”

“Okay,” Drake says, and his mouth quirks up into that almost half-smile again.

“Will you still be here in the morning?” Damian inquires. Drake hesitates. He turns, as if to exit the conversation, but just goes to the kitchen sink to spit out his toothpaste. He sets the apples down on the counter and his toothbrush in the sink, then turns back to Damian.

“Probably not,” he admits. “Kon and I are leaving for San Francisco tomorrow. We won’t be back here for–” Drake cuts himself off, as if he doesn’t want to be giving Damian any further details about his whereabouts. Damian doesn’t blame him.

“Then I suppose we shall need to talk now,” he decides, setting the water bottles down. Drake raises an eyebrow, but leans against the counter. Damian remains standing in front of him, though he puts the water bottles back in the fridge so they don’t get warm. “Everyone is very worried about you.”

Drake does not look convinced.

“I am serious,” Damian says. “Cassandra is the one who told us that you did not want to be found. I believe Father has kept looking for you anyways. We have… all been attempting to acknowledge our issues. To be better for each other, and for you, if you should ever wish to return. Todd has made it clear that there is a good chance you do not want to see us again, and that it should be your choice if you do. I apologize that this meeting is not on your terms.”

Drake’s shoulders relax a minute amount. His fingers play with the hem of his hoodie. It’s Superman branded. The merchandise line that Jon and Clark both complain about. Damian assumes it is the clone’s.

“We miss you,” Damian says quietly. “I believe everyone would be pleased to be given the chance to apologize. But I agree with Todd, and Cassandra. It is your life, and therefore your choice.”

Drake raises an eyebrow. Almost like he can’t believe what Damian is saying.

“Okay,” he says eventually. “Thanks, Damian.”

And then he gathers the apples in his arms and disappears. He leaves his toothbrush in the sink. It’s gone in the morning, and so are Drake and the clone.

Damian anticipates that this will be the end of it. When he returns home, Richard and Alfred ask how his sleep over was, and he informs them that it was quite pleasant. He does not tell anyone in the family that he saw Drake. It is not his place.

Four days later, he receives a postcard from San Francisco. It has a phone number scrawled on it with a California area code. Alfred hands it to him with a raised eyebrow. Damian informs him that he will be doing homework in his room, and he is not to be disturbed. He goes upstairs and calls the number immediately.

“You’ve reached J&J Photography, this is Jack speaking,” a voice that is most definitely Drake answers. Something is off, however, and it takes Damian a moment to place that Drake sounds… cheerful. “How can I help you today?”

Damian is not sure what to say. He’s silent for a long moment.

“Hello?”

“Drake,” he blurts out, afraid that his brother will hang up. He can practically hear Drake pausing.

“Hey, Damian,” Drake says, his voice a bit more guarded. “Get my postcard?”

“Yes,” Damian says. He turns the postcard over in his hands. The picture is of San Francisco at sunset. There’s a watermark in the bottom corner for J&J Photography. “Did you take this picture?”

“Yeah,” Drake says after a moment. “We sell ‘em to gift shops and stuff.”

“It is quite lovely,” Damian says, and he’s telling the truth. The color composition is exquisite. “Brown brought a box of your photographs over a few months ago. She found them hidden away somewhere. You are an excellent photographer.”

Drake actually laughs at that, a real laugh. Damian can’t help but feel proud of himself.

“Thanks, Damian,” Drake says, and he sounds cheerful again. “Yeah, it’s… something I really enjoy doing. Figured I might as well make a living off it. Especially when I have free fast airfare, I can travel a lot.”

Damian hears a distinct “Hey!” in the background that he assumes comes from the clone. He snickers. Using supers as air travel really is convenient. He will admit he takes advantage of it sometimes, but he always makes sure to pay Jon back. Usually in ice cream.

“Anyways, that’s why I sent you the number,” Drake continues. “I just… I really appreciate what you said at the Kents’. I really do. But I’ve carved out a nice spot for myself. Somewhere I’m happy. I don’t know if I can give that up.”

“You looked relaxed,” Damian says, not sure where else to steer the conversation. “At the farmhouse. You looked more relaxed than I have ever seen you. I do not wish to take that away from you. I just know everyone misses you, and would like to see you, if you are amenable.”

He can hear the gears turning in Drake’s brain.

“Why are you doing this?” Drake asks after a moment, his voice a bit quieter. “Why are you, of all people, trying so hard to bring me back?”

There are many things Damian could say here. That he is doing it for the good of the family. For the good of Gotham. The family will be pleased if Damian brings Tim back. Father will be pleased. The whole family misses him, Gotham herself misses him. But instead, Damian tells the truth as simply as he can.

“I miss you,” Damian says stiffly. “You are my brother. I did not realize it until you were gone. Richard and Todd are my brothers, and Cassandra is my sister, but… none of them are you. You are different.”

“You miss me,” Drake says, almost like he can’t believe it.

“Yes,” Damian confirms. He thinks back to the nights when it was just him and Drake home, and he’d fall asleep on the couch or the Cave and wake up with a blanket draped over his shoulders. How Drake always responded to his distress calls, no matter how far away he was. How Drake helped him navigate the computer and fill out reports, drove him around when he needed it, assisted him with homework occasionally. How Drake always tried to be his brother, even when Damian wanted nothing to do with him. How Drake always did his best to be part of the family even when they treated him poorly, how there’s been a gaping hole with his absence that no one wants to fill with anything but him. “I miss you.”

Drake gives a sort-of breathless laugh, followed by a passionate, “Fuck.”

There’s silence for a moment.

“Babe, how quickly can we get to Gotham?” Drake calls, his voice slightly muffled. There’s an indistinguishable response that does not sound particularly pleased. “Yeah, I know.” Another response. “Damian.” A loud and clear expression of disbelief. “Yeah, I know.” Muttered words, a bit closer to the phone, still too quiet for Damian to make out. A sigh from Drake.

“You do not need to return for my benefit,” Damian says.

“Shut up,” Drake replies, but there’s no heat behind it. “Kon’s dropping me off at your window in five minutes. Don’t tell anyone.”

“I will not.”

Drake hangs up without saying anything further. Damian paces the length of his room for the next four minutes and forty-seven seconds. There’s a rap at the window when his back is to it, and he whirls around. There’s Drake, wrapped up in Superboy’s arms. Damian opens the window quickly, and Drake slips inside.

“Call me when you want to come home,” the clone says. Drake presses a kiss to his lips, and the clone disappears.

“Okay,” Drake says, turning away from the window and toward Damian. “Here I am–”

Damian cuts him off by slamming against his chest. Drake’s arms hover for a long moment, as if he is unsure how a hug works. Damian does not relent. He can hear Drake’s heartbeat. Proof he is alive, not a figment of Damian’s imagination, not a hallucination in the Kents’ kitchen. After a long moment, Drake hugs him back. Tentative, then tighter.

Damian waits for Drake to release him before stepping back. For a moment, they stare at each other, both unsure where to go from here.

“I would like to show you some of my drawings,” Damian decides. “You shared your art with me, I would like to share my art with you.”

Drake smiles at him. They spend the next hour flipping through Damian’s sketchbooks. Damian takes a few spare moments to study his brother: the bags under his eyes are almost non-existent. His hair is the least greasy Damian has ever seen it. He has gained weight, and he looks healthier. Happier. There is less tension in his shoulders, his jaw. He seems to have found some sort of peace.

Damian describes the memories associated with each of his drawings. Drake seems slightly surprised that there are sketches of him included. They chat, about the things they’ve been doing. Damian tells him about his schooling, and his superheroing, and about their siblings. Drake shares that he is enrolled in a local university. He has not decided on a field of study yet. He and the clone live in a four-bedroom apartment with Wonder Girl and Impulse. They all go to school. Occasionally they fight crime, but they avoid any sign of the media or the public. They train together and, more importantly, they are happy.

“But I do miss you, too,” Drake says, after a long pause. “I don’t miss Gotham. But I miss you guys.”

Father knocks on Damian’s door shortly after they’ve finished looking at the last sketchbook. Drake freezes, his muscles tensing, like he’s ready to take flight.

“Damian,” Father’s voice carries through the door. “Why am I hearing about a Super in Gotham airspace?”

A Super. Father does not know which one.

“I forgot my favorite toothbrush at the Kents’,” Damian says quickly. “Jon was dropping it off for me.”

Thankfully, Father buys the lie, and his footsteps recede down the hallway. Drake sends Damian a panicked look.

“How the hell am I supposed to get out of here now?” he hisses.

“Damian, who’s in there with you?” Father’s stern voice calls through the door. Drake’s gaze goes even more panicked. Damian mutters a curse under his breath. Brown taught Father how to do that trick, to get someone to believe you’re walking away. Damian did not think Father would be quite so convincing at it yet.

Damian shoots a questioning look at Drake, and something seems to hit both of them at once: they are conspiring. Like brothers. Damian is looking to Drake for direction, because Drake is his older brother, no, Timothy is his older brother. They’re kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar, as Richard might say.

“It is up to you,” Damian says quietly. “I should let you know that everyone is in the Manor tonight, as tomorrow is Thanksgiving.”

“Ah, fuck it,” Timothy says after a moment. “I’m already here. Might as well get it over with.”

“Damian, I’m coming in,” Father’s voice says, just before Damian’s bedroom door opens. Father is standing there, as if he is expecting to see Jon sitting next to Damian on the bed, shoulders pressed together. Instead, it is Timothy. Father’s jaw drops.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him make that face,” Damian says, and Timothy lets out a surprised bark of laughter.

“Tim?” Father says, as if his eyes are deceiving him. “Wh– Damian?” Ah, yes. Damian supposes he is the least likely member of the family that could convince Timothy to return home. Nevertheless, Damian is a master at subverting expectations.

“Hey, Bruce,” Timothy says. “Damian says you miss me.”

Father is moving before Timothy can finish his sentence. He all-but lunges for both of them, tackling them back onto the bed in some sort of odd semblance of a hug. Damian practically hisses, and Timothy laughs at the noise, pats Father on the back.

“Okay, okay,” he says. “Come on, old man, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Tim,” Father says. “Of course it’s a big deal, you’re here.”

Timothy opens his mouth to retort. Richard chooses that moment to poke his head in the doorway.

“Hugging?” he says excitedly. “We’re hugging? We’re– oh my God, TIM!”

And then Damian gets the wind knocked out of him again as Richard takes a flying leap to jump on them. He’s saying Timothy’s name over and over again, and Damian wriggles, trying to get out from under his family members. He manages to make an escape, but Timothy is trapped.

“Run for it, Damian!” Timothy calls dramatically. “Avenge me!”

“Tim, oh my God, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry–”

“Dick, it’s fine–”

“What’s with all the yelling?” Todd asks as he stumbles into the room, looking like he just woke up. “Why are we dogpiling Damian?” He then registers that Damian is standing near him, not buried under Father and Richard on the bed. He gives Damian a look, like he’s putting two and two together and coming up blank.

Cassandra chooses that moment to run down the hallway. She darts around Todd and manages to slip underneath Richard to hug Timothy.

“Baby brother,” she hums, clearly delighted. Todd still looks confused. He stares at Damian for a long moment, and then something clicks.

“Babybird?” he asks. Timothy waves a hand from under the pile of bodies.

Brown’s voice carries down the hallway.

“Why the fuck did I find out Tim was in Gotham through Conner Kent’s Instagram story?!” she cries incredulously. She shoves Todd aside and he stumbles into Damian, then forcefully pries Richard and Father off the bed so she has access to Timothy. Timothy, for his part, is still laughing. Todd wastes no further time in attempting to get to Timothy, and Richard rejoins the pile shortly after.

“Damian,” Father says, turning to him. Alfred is in the doorway, his smile wider than Damian has seen it in a long time. “Why? How?”

There are many things Damian could say. Timothy’s absence created a gaping void in the family that nothing but Timothy himself could fill. The family missed him and has been trying to do better, for if he returns. Gotham herself missed him flying over her skyline. Timothy has created a life for himself, a life where he is happy, but there was still longing in his eyes in the Kents’ kitchen. There are many things he could say. Damian chooses, once again, for the simplest truth.

“I missed him,” he shrugs. Then he smiles at Father, all teeth, and jumps into the pile of his siblings.

There are many things Damian does not understand. He does not quite understand Timothy Drake. But he is very pleased that he– that they all – will have the opportunity to. He’s their brother, after all, whether he’s in Gotham or not. That’s just the truth.