Chapter Text
It was quiet in the MedBay.
Bruce and Tim had left not long after Jon bolted from the cave. Probably because staring at Damian wasn't helping, and both men usually poured themselves into work instead of dealing with how they felt. At least Kon was there for Tim. He'd keep the boss from spiraling too far.
The same couldn't be said for Bruce, but not much could be done about that.
Dick stared into the darkness that enveloped him and his brothers. The painkillers given to Jason had the Robin fast asleep. The steady rise and fall of his chest was soothing to the little acrobat, even if he himself couldn't find sleep as easily. Too much was on his mind to close his eyes.
Namely, what sort of condition Damian was in.
It was clear to everyone that the baby bat wanted to be beside his oldest brother, even though he refused to leave Jason's side. How could he? The Robin wasn't doing well. Of course, he was hiding everything behind his usual anger and sharp tongue, but Dick could feel the way the boy tensed up whenever he would glance over at Damian.
He was scared.
It was plain as day to the youngest bat. Why couldn't the rest of the family see it? Did they think Jason could simply walk away from almost being killed without any issue? Maybe he could if it was just another villain from the rogue's gallery, but it wasn't. It was his brother who put him in a hospital bed.
It must be because they had so many other things to worry about.
Staring at his older brother as his eyes adjusted to the dark, Dick made sure the Robin was definitely asleep before sitting up. He'd stay with Jason as long as it took for the boy to feel safe again, but he couldn't ignore the nagging in his bones to check on Damian.
What if something changed?
Quietly slipping out of the bed, the acrobat was light on his feet as he navigated the dark room with ease. Dick had always been a natural at stealth. It always surprised his mom when he'd sneak up behind her, and it impressed Bruce when the man would genuinely lose track of him whenever Dick wanted to hide.
He hid a lot when he first came to the Manor.
Saddling up the bed Damian was bound to, Dick leaned over the edge to get a better look at the man. What he wasn't expecting was to be met with emerald green eyes.
"You're awake." The little bat kept his voice quiet, not wanting to wake up Jason or alert everyone else just yet.
The older vigilante was silent for long enough that Dick was starting to think maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him. "You are a fool."
The acrobat's face scrunched up into a pout. "That's not very nice. You aren't Damian, are you? You're whatever that Sonia person thinks you are."
A beat of stillness was broken by Damian trying to reach for Dick. Even though his mobility had been affected, his movements were still quick enough to catch the baby bat off guard. Stumbling back, Dick felt his heart rate spike.
Thankfully, the restraints kept the man from reaching very far.
"Simple and naive. At least you know when to run from danger. Todd was not that smart."
"Todd?" Swallowing thickly, Dick approached the bed again, but this time was sure to keep out of range of the shackles. "Do you mean Jason? Why use his old last name? He changed it back to Wayne."
Jason Todd—Wayne.
Without his memories in the League, the Robin wasn't aware of anything past his first name. Talia filled in his last name but kept the Wayne connection hidden. However, as soon as the kid regained his memories and returned to Gotham, he shed his surname. All it did was bring back painful memories of his mother.
So he remained just Jason until Dick showed up.
It took a lot of convincing from the acrobat for the Robin to retake the Wayne last name so they could match. It was the first of many steps that were necessary to help Jason find his place again within the family.
Emerald eyes watched Dick closely. "Because we are not a family. Not anymore. Father made sure of that. Not that I liked anyone you to begin with. I merely did what was expected of me."
That hurt a lot more than he expected. Even if Damian isn't in his right mind, it was still his voice and cadence saying such sad things. Balling his fists in the thin sheet that lined the bed, Dick felt a heavy weight in his chest.
"You're wrong. We are a family. And you do like us. You love us with all your heart. It's in everything you do. You might scold and be overprotective at times, but it's because you care. You care so much it scares you sometimes."
Leaning down closer to Damian's face, the baby bat's big blue eyes widened.
Tears spilled down the vigilante's face, though his voice remained unaffected. "You don't know anything about me."
Those words couldn't be further from the truth. Dick was the only one who didn't know Damian before the two-year gap that left him and Tim broken. He was the only one who didn't compare the older vigilante's past to his present.
And because of that, he learned to understand Damian as he was now. Reading between the lines and figuring out the words that weren't said became second nature to Dick.
Sometimes it felt like he knew Damian better than anyone else. Or at the very least, understood him.
"I know you're hurting. And I think you're scared right now. Scared you've done something you can't make up for. But you can and you will." A smile softened Dick's face.
The collar beeped, and the vigilante turned away from the acrobat. "As I said. Simple and naive. Do not think I won't cut you down where you stand once I'm free."
A shrug and a small laugh had Damian's threat falling flat. "That is, if you can catch me. I'm pretty fast and great at dodging. You made sure of that."
"How… irritating."
Sonia sighed as she tossed a pretzel for her behemoth to catch. No one mentioned how boring it was to wait around for your minions to complete your work. While Damian got to have all the fun killing everyone on her list, she was stuck in her apartment suite teaching her goon new tricks.
Standing up, her heels clicked across the floor as she debated spending her time on a bath instead.
"If I were a more impulsive woman, I would have joined him just to see the look on everyone's faces when he cut them down in cold blood. But alas, I want to stay far away from all that dangerous stuff." Deciding on a bath and a movie, Sonia pulled her hair up into a ponytail as her behemoth lumbered to the bathroom to start the water.
"That's the entire reason I created the collar in the first place. Danger only increases the risk of getting hurt, and I want to avoid that as much as possible. Let the trained professionals handle all the dirty work, I say." Even if her goon never responded, Sonia still enjoyed talking to him. Like having full conversations with your dog, even though they can't understand you.
It cuts through the quiet evenings and monotony.
Just as she tossed her shoes onto the couch, the building wall exploded as if a bomb had gone off. Shrieking, Sonia dove behind the furniture to avoid being hit by flying debris. A thick coat of concrete dust and drywall covered the room in a fine powder. It filled the woman's lungs as she struggled to breathe amid her coughing.
What in the world just happened?
Had she been attacked?
How? They were on one of the top floors of a high-rise. Don't tell her one of her enemies had enough sway and pull to set up a rig system to get a bomb this high up. But what other explanations could there possibly be?
Getting to her knees, Sonia cautiously peeked over the back of the couch to see who had come after her. What she saw was almost too outlandish to comprehend.
"You're supposed to be dead!" Bolting to her feet, a tidal wave of anger and frustration outweighed any lingering infatuation she might have had for the man standing before her.
Superman.
The man who was neither dead nor dying, like he had been the last time Sonia saw him, stepped through the hole in her apartment. His red cape, which held the emblem of hope he and his predecessor were so proud of, was nowhere in sight. All that was there was an incredibly angry Kryptonian.
"Sorry to disappoint." This time, there was no ring of red around his pupil, but rather the entire iris was a bloody crimson instead of its usual calm blue.
"Ugh! I knew we shouldn't have left you in the facility! Villain 101. Never leave before the hero is dead. I won't make that same mistake twice. August! Sick him!"
Her behemoth came thundering out of the bathroom and charged the super. He was easily twice the alien's size—his fists the size of the man's head as they swung toward Superman. Sonia was fully expecting the Kryptonian to dodge, but he remained where he was and took the hit head-on.
The impact shook the room, kicking up dust and concrete fragments.
As everything settled again, the behemoth made a sound of confusion. Instead of a mangled heap of meat that usually happened after one of his attacks, the alien was still standing there. His fist connected with the super's head, but the man hadn't moved an inch.
"Was that it?" Superman's voice sent a chill up the goon's back, but it didn't stop him.
He attacked over and over. This man was dangerous, and if he wasn't put down, then Sonia would be in grave danger.
Every hit ended the same way. It was like the behemoth was punching rock that refused to crack. The skin on his knuckles split and tore, and yet the only blood on Superman came from the goon's own ripped flesh.
"What are you doing, August!? Stop messing around and throw him out already!"
Before the behemoth could comply, his fist was caught by an incredibly small hand in comparison. "Correct me if I'm wrong. But didn't you do enough research on me to figure out the connection I have with Nightwing?"
A scream was torn from the goon as the alien snapped the bones in his fingers. A horrible feeling twisted inside Sonia's stomach. It was the first time she'd ever heard August's voice. She wasn't even aware he could make that noise.
"In all that data, you must know about my abilities. Did you think a human, gigantic or not, would be enough to force me to my knees!?" Lashing out like a snake, the Kryptonian grabbed the front of the goon's shirt and threw him into the far wall.
August went sailing right past Sonia's head—the drag from his body kicking up enough wind to whip her ponytail around viciously. The deafening crash had the woman turning slowly with wide eyes to find her loyal dog, who had never once lost a fight, unconscious and hardly moving.
She was going to die.
Heart hammering in her throat, Sonia bolted for her phone. No! She couldn't die here. There were so many things she had left to do—so many more plans she had for Nightwing to execute. Grabbing the device, the woman tripped when a molten hot blast hit the floor in front of her. Crashing to the ground, her phone slipped from her grip.
Sonia watched in horror as her only way to contact Nightwing broke into a thousand pieces right in front of her.
"No!"
Scrambling to her knees, red nails clawed at the bits of plastic in a desperate attempt at putting the device back together. A shadow falling over her had Sonia freeze in place. Gulping around her tightened throat, the woman glanced over her shoulder to find Superman staring down at her.
"I assume that must have been important. That's too bad."
In all her data and research, Sonia has never heard the super sound like this. It was as if it wasn't a question of whether he'd kill her but how he could accomplish the task.
Fumbling to turn around, the woman inched her way from the Kryptonian. "Let—let's not be too hasty. I understand you're angry, but you're a superhero, remember? You all have oaths about not killing and such, right?"
Superman didn't move as Sonia moved farther and farther away from him. Instead, he watched her cower like a sniveling rat. "Only Batman and his operation has that oath. The rest of us are against killing for as long as possible. But at the end of the day, it's still an option."
Sonia's heart sank at the super's words. The Kryptonian didn't sound like he was bluffing just to scare her. This was not the way things were supposed to go. She was supposed to be the winner—the one on top. No longer a joke but a name worth remembering.
Everything was ruined!
All because of him!
The wall pressing against her back told Sonia she had nowhere else to go. Glancing around furiously, her eyes landed on August. Perfect! Hastily crawling over to him, she dug through his pockets until she found the gun he kept for her just in case something like this happened. Pointing the weapon at Superman, her arm shook enough to need both hands to keep her steady.
"You think I'm just going to lie down like a dog and let you kill me!?" Tears spilled down her face, blurring her vision, but she could still see the gaudy red logo on the Kryptonian's chest. "Bullshit! I still have work that needs to be done. I refuse to die here!"
As Superman took a step closer, Sonia squeezed the trigger. The bullet struck the man in the chest and might as well have had the same effect as a stray pebble. Terror sank its claws into the woman's bones as another step was taken toward her.
Shot after shot rang out, but nothing slowed the man's approach. "Stay away from me! Stay away!"
The faint clicking of an empty clip was the last thing Sonia heard before a hand was around her throat. Lifted from the ground until her feet barely touched the floor, the woman struggled against the supposed superhero who had her at his mercy.
"It's your lucky day, Sonia. We need you, we need your code for Nightwing's collar so you won't be dying anytime soon."
"What—what makes you think I'll give it to you?" Sonia's voice was strained as she tried to speak around the hand constricting her throat. "As soon as I do, you'll kill me."
The red faded back to blue as the brunt of the super's malice subsided. It was replaced with a smile that didn't put Sonia at ease. "That's why I'll leave the interrogation to a friend of mine. He's part of Batman's operation, so you won't have to worry about being killed afterward. But he is the best at getting information out of unwilling participants that I know of."
"He also happens to be Nightwing's brother, so I think you two will get along wonderfully."
Those words were the final nail in Sonia's coffin.
Everything was over.
It was like a nightmare Damian was stuck in, with no way to wake up or get out.
His body moved without his input, spoke against his wishes, and obeyed someone he'd never met before without his consent. Like watching through a pane of glass, the vigilante was unable to keep from hurting the people he cared for, no matter how hard he threw his fist against the window.
Jon was soft. He wasn't callous enough to turn on his partner even if Damian had no control over his actions. And because of the vigilante's paranoia, the taller man couldn't even rely on his abilities to keep him safe.
Damian was a fool. His partner was a Kryptonian, and he still chose to carry the one thing on this planet that could kill him. The excuse that it was for Jon's brother fell from his mouth without any choice. As if the vigilante would ever cause harm to his brother's boyfriend.
He might find Kon obnoxious, but he kept Tim from drowning during a time Damian couldn't. He's more grateful to the man than he cares to admit out loud.
The scream that spilled from his boyfriend's mouth as the dagger sank into his arm would keep the vigilante up at night if he ever managed to regain his senses. The desire to stay with Jon, to apologize to him, and care for him was ignored as Damian was forced to walk away.
The confirmation that he was still alive had the eldest bat crumpling in his own head with relief.
But his nightmare continued.
The snap of bone beneath his fingers echoed inside Damian's head like a relentless soundtrack that refused to give him a moment of peace. He was no stranger to breaking a limb, but the wrist was smaller than his usual opponents.
The knee he dislocated belonged to a boy, not a man.
A child.
His own hand was strangling his little brother, Jason, and there wasn't any way for Damian to stop it.
As his head smacked against the wall he was thrown into, the vigilante hoped it was enough to kill him. The moment of darkness almost had him believing he had gotten his wish, but instead, he found himself on his feet.
This time, he was staring at Tim.
His first little brother was never too far behind him in terms of skill. If someone were capable of putting him down, Damian had to believe it'd be the Boss of Crime Alley. At the very least, he knew the man could defend himself.
Every blow to his body was made with purpose. One that the vigilante was well aware of but could not do anything about, as he kept fighting. It was only a matter of time before the damage was too much.
So Damian made a choice.
One that landed him right in the crosshairs of his father.
He thought Tim had been his last hope, but as he charged his father in a fit of uncharacteristic rage, Damian realized he'd never once beaten The Batman. His anger wasn't entirely unjustified either. It was always there—always coiling and twisting. It ate up a large chunk of the vigilante as the years went by, but was never given voice.
Not until now.
But it was also his undoing.
Of course, his father would have a way of sedating him in spite of his higher tolerance for drugs and poisons. It was just the type of man he was. Damian couldn't fault him for that. To expect something else would mean not knowing his father as well as he did.
But sedatives never lasted long, and as the vigilante was met with unyielding darkness and the harsh smell of the BatCave's MedBay, he was also met with big blue eyes. Dick was too young to see his older brother in such a state.
Reaching for the baby bat in a vain attempt to shield him from everything turned into an attempt on the boy's life. Never before had Damian been so grateful that he chose to hone the acrobat's reflexes.
Unlike his other siblings, Dick was not a combatant—he didn't try to get through to the vigilante with fists or knives. Instead, he had words. Words that struck Damian to the core and threatened to drown him.
The mistakes he's made were too grave, too inexcusable. Try as he might, he couldn't see a way to make up for them. Nor a way for his family to forgive him.
It all felt too out of reach.
Too far away.
As emerald eyes fluttered open, Damian took in the sterilized environment of the MedBay for the second time. Yet this time felt different. Reaching to feel his throat, the eldest bat was stopped by the shackles that kept him secured to the bed just shy of his skin.
There was no way to tell if the collar was still on, and though Damian could gain another centimeter or two if he strained against the chains, he chose not to. As his arm fell back against the bed, it took a moment for everything to sink in.
He had made a choice.
Damian's eyes widened as he lifted his arm again. It moved in the exact way he wanted it to. He had control over his body again. Relief had the vigilante's breath stutter in disbelief. The nightmare he had resigned himself to was over.
Movement in the corner of his eye caught Damian's attention. In the time he had been focused on his right arm, he hadn't noticed his left. It was unable to move if he didn't want to disturb the man sleeping beside him.
Jon was fast asleep, curled up against the vigilante. Instead of wearing his suit, he wore one of Damian's T–shirts and a pair of his sweatpants. Even if they were at the Manor, the bat knew his boyfriend must have gotten the clothes from his own apartment. The super was notorious for stealing Damian's clothes once they reached the same size, and these particular items were among his favorites.
Careful not to jostle him too much, the vigilante attempted to touch his boyfriend but was unable to because of the shackles. Feeling a lump form in his throat, Damian pressed his forehead against Jon's instead. He felt warm and so very much alive.
There were no black webs of Kryptonite poisoning ruining his milky white skin—no greyish complexion or wounds from Damian's katanas that he knew carved up his boyfriend's body.
He looked the same as he ever did.
"Oh, my love. How I've missed you."
Damian's voice was quiet, but it was still enough to rouse his partner from sleep. Long lashes brushed against porcelain as Jon opened his eyes. The vigilante's favorite shade of blue met his emerald gaze. To this day, he has yet to find a hue more gorgeous than this.
"Damian?"
A small, sad smile pulled on the bat's lips. "Who else? Surely you don't share a bed with just anyone."
Jon's sudden intensity overshadowed the little attempt at humor to compensate for Damian's guilt. Sitting up and looming over his partner, the super caged the vigilante in. "Is it really you?"
The question felt like a bat-a-rang to the neck. "I—I think so. I can control my body again, and my words are my own." Fisting his hands in the blanket that covered him, Jon's eyes felt too hard to look at. "I am sorry. For everything. I—I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but allow me to make some sort of atonement."
The silence from his normally chatty better half was almost too loud to handle. Then an overjoyed laugh broke that silence. "It is you!"
A surprised sound was jostled from Damian when the Kryptonian wrapped him up in a tight embrace. The hug aggravated several over the vigilante's injuries, but the man couldn't bring himself to voice a complaint. The pain was negligible compared to how good it felt to be back in Jon's arms.
"I am so glad you're back, Dami. If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me. I couldn't protect you as I should have. I let you fall into the clutches of that awful woman." Burying his face in Damian's shoulder, Jon's grip tightened slightly. "I'm so sorry. So, so sorry."
"Jon."
The strain in the vigilante's voice had the Kryptonian immediately releasing him. In his excitement, he forgot that Damian couldn't handle even the bare minimum of his strength. The way the super crumbled like a kicked puppy had emerald eyes softening.
"You shouldn't blame yourself for my failure." Chains clinked together when Damian tried to touch Jon's face, only to be stopped once again. A pale hand covered the padded cuffs and gently removed them.
"None of this is your fault. It's all because of that Sonia woman." Once the cuffs were gone, Jon traced a thumb over Damian's dark skin. "She is to blame for all of this."
Well, that is something they can agree on. Instead of passing the guilt back and forth, it was more productive to hold the real villain responsible for everything that had happened. Now that Damian was free from his restraints, he cupped Jon's face.
So warm, so alive.
"I assume, because my collar is gone, she's been dealt with. At the very least, that is something to be proud of. She won't be using this horrible collar on anyone else."
Jon nodded as he leaned into the vigilante's touch. "I was the one who brought her in, and I—" Swallowing thickly, the Kryptonian let out a shuddering breath. "I wanted to kill her, Dami. I really did. I would've if we didn't need the code to your collar. I was just…so angry and felt so useless and—"
Damian couldn't bear to hear anymore. Tugging Jon down, he silenced the man's words with a kiss. All the remaining tension coiled in the super's body melted away as he sank into the familiar feeling of his partner's love. It felt like an eternity since he's touched Damian like this, even though the reality was only a day or so.
Keeping the kiss chaste, the vigilante placed several all over the Kryptonian's face, dotting his skin like freckles. "Hush. If you're worried that I might be angry with you, don't be. I know you better than anyone. Even without the code, you wouldn't have killed her. I am certain of that."
The unwavering confidence in Damian's voice had Jon deflating like an old balloon. Collapsing against his boyfriend, the super's head dropped to the vigilante's chest. "You have too much faith in me, Damian. I'm not the good person everyone thinks I am."
Carding his fingers through Jon's fluffy locks, the vigilante let out a soft sigh. "You are so ridiculous sometimes. What am I going to do with you?"
The only response Jon could give was a soft hum as he soaked in the steady heartbeat and rhythmic breathing of his partner. How did it always turn out like this? Even when Damian was hurt and bedridden, he was still the one comforting the Kryptonian when ugly thoughts tried to pull him under.
Jon should be stronger than this. His own problems were nothing compared to what his boyfriend must be dealing with, and yet. He was too weak to do anything but let Damian see all of his ugliness. All of his selfishness, his neediness, his greed. They were on full display for the vigilante to witness, and like the awful man he was, Jon craved Damian's reassurance like needing air to breathe.
He was nowhere near a good man.
Jon's wallowing was interrupted by the presence of another heartbeat entering the MedBay. That and the smell of coffee. Dragging himself away from the vigilante, the Kryptonian shuffled off the bed. Damian's protests at his absence were silenced with a kiss to the cheek.
"I'll be right back. I'm going to get you a change of clothes."
"But—"
"Don't worry, it won't take long. Besides, you've got company."
With a smile, Jon kissed Damian on the nose before heading out of the MedBay. He clapped the newcomer on the back as he passed by.
"Go easy on him. No lectures or reprimands, alright?"
Coming to check on his brother like he's been doing for the last few hours, Tim was surprised to find the eldest bat looking over at him when he approached the bed. Pale eyes blinked before a relieved huff of air left him.
"Took you long enough. I was beginning to think you'd be asleep forever after the collar was removed. You're not still feeling the urge to murder everyone, are you?"
"No more than usual." Eyeing the mug of coffee and the slight tremor in the boss's hand, Damian raised an eyebrow. "Tim. How many cups of caffeine have you had?"
Wow. So many things hit Tim at once. Damian's use of his first name, the slight accusation in his voice that hinted at disappointment and annoyance but actually bordered on care. Even the vigilante's bad sense of humor left the boss blindsided. Setting his coffee down, Tim didn't waste any time looping his arms around his brother's shoulders in a big hug.
"It's so good to have you back, Dames."
Emerald eyes widened into giant saucers. Damian couldn't recall the last time his brother hugged him like this. It must have been before everything changed—before Tim was filled with too much anger and malice to accept affection, let alone give it. Snaking an arm around the other man's body, the vigilante awkwardly patted the boss's back, unsure of how much affection he was allowed to return.
"This is a surprise. Are you sure you're Tim?"
Breaking away from Damian, the other bat looked thoroughly offended by the accusation. "Seriously? I get you're not super touchy-feely anymore, but a hug should not surprise you. I mean, what else am I supposed to do after getting my brother back from a lunatic? Just stand there and give you a thumbs up?"
When Tim put it that way, it made it sound like Damian was the strange one.
"I suppose you're right." Placing a hand on Tim's head, the vigilante pet his hair in the same fashion he would when they were both kids. "You might be older and have more walls up, but you're still the same boy who looked up at me with such big eyes. It seems I forgot."
Flushing a bright red in embarrassment, the boss scrambled away from his bedridden brother. "That's not what I meant! I meant I'm not heartless, not that you needed to treat me like a kid. I'm almost married for Christ's sake!"
Ah. Tim was still averse to outward displays of affection from Damian. Like always, the vigilante felt like he was bumbling around in the dark when it came to figuring out how to navigate his relationship with his little brother. Every move felt like the wrong one.
Cooling his face down, the boss cleared his throat. "In any case, now that you're yourself again. We should probably let the rest of the family know."
The rest of the family? That included his father, Dick, and—
Bile burned the back of his throat as the feeling of snapping Jason's wrist and crushing his throat felt so vivid against his hand. "How is Jason doing? He's okay, right? I didn't cause any permanent damage, did I?"
The boss sighed. "Nothing permanent, no. Physically, he'll recover in a few weeks."
Physically?
"What about mentally?" The boy was already filled with so much trauma that he was trying to overcome. Had Damian only added more?
A shrug was all Tim could offer. "I don't know. He isn't much of a talker when it comes to his feelings, but Dick has been pretty adamant about not leaving his side. I'm sure the kid is more aware of what's going on with Jason than we are. He's crazy intuitive after all."
Swallowing around a forming lump in his throat, the vigilante didn't like the sound of that even a little bit. "Can I see him?"
"Yeah, of course." Tim's calm response quickly turned to panic when his older brother tried to get out of bed. "Hey! Whoa! Absolutely not." Shoving the older man back against the thin mattress—frantic, pale eyes stared into confused emerald ones.
"But you just said—"
"I'll bring the kid down here. You are way too hurt to be walking around. Trust me, I didn't pull my punches on you, and you took way more hits than you should have. You are on lockdown for the next month at least." The guilt of hurting Damian surfaced for a moment before Tim locked it down.
It was necessary and had to be done.
"A month?! Surely, you're joking. I refuse to be confined to a bed for an entire month. I'll go mad from the boredom alone." Damian has never spent longer than a week on bed rest before and has been perfectly fine.
Of course, it made the time to make a full recovery longer, but he was still efficient.
Clicking his tongue, Tim leveled his brother with a look that left no room for arguments. "Doctor's orders, Dames, and that's final. And because I know you're stubborn, the whole family is on monitoring duty. Including Jon. You'll just have to deal with going crazy."
The audacity of his little brother to pull such a stunt. "This is ridiculous. I can't believe you." Annoyance bubbled over like a boiling pot of water. "Don't think I will let this go, Tim. You will regret treating me like some unreasonable kid."
"Oh? Then don't act like an unreasonable kid. You've only got yourself to blame, Damian." The cheeky bastard was finding Damian's plight funny as a grin lit up his face. "Now shut up and get some rest while I go grab the boys. And don't even think about leaving this bed in the meantime."
As Tim left MedBay, Damian made a list of everything he could do to make this month as miserable for his brother as it would be for him.