I hope you guys liked my last chapter.
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"No, you don't, Dickhead. You're not my fucking dad."
I winced, letting my phone drop onto my lap.
Music poured from the restaurant speakers, the people sitting around my table talking loud enough that I had to scream to give the waitress my order before Tim called. Now, all the noise just faded into the back of my head.
When Tim agreed to me becoming his legal guardian, I knew raising Tim would be hard. He had been separated from me for years after we both left the orphanage, he had been abused ever since he was four-years-old, taught by assassins that screwed into his head to never trust anyone nice, and then we finally met after he was sent on a mission to kill me. So yeah, I knew I had my work cut out for me.
But during all the stories Damian was telling me about Tim when he saw him at Ra's Palace, Tim's paranoia that all the heroes were going missing, and telling Barbara that I wasn't dumping her for a 10-year-old version of Batman, I had forgotten that Tim had never really had a parental figure.
He's had his own personal abusers, and mentors that cared about him, sure, but parents or guardians that loved him? Besides from our parents at the circus that he had last seen when he was four, he never had any. So really, it shouldn't have hurt me so much that he would reject me acting like a big brother that cared about him too much. But it did, and it hurt like a bitch.
I sighed, picking up my phone again and pressing speed dial, then pressed it to my ear. "What do you want, Golden Boy?" Jason's gruff voice asked through the phone.
"Tim got pissed off with me over the phone. And with the stuff he's said he's done when he gets mad... can you look for him?" I asked, leaning my elbow on the table.
"Why can't you get him, Dickie?" Jason asked, the sound of him sucking in a cigarette sounding through the phone right after.
"I'm still at a restaurant with Damian, and you know the underground death fights better than I do." I said, grimacing at the thought of my baby brother going there.
I wasn't stupid, I knew he wasn't exactly innocent as he was when he was a happy four-year-old in the circus begging to go to practice, and I knew he could handle his own. But just the image of my little brother, who wasn't even 5' 6" yet because of malnurishment, going into one of those fights with mean two, even three times his weight scared me.
Jason sighed over the phone, saying, " Fine, I'll do it. But only because you sound like your starting to get into your mother hen mode."
I let out a relieved sigh as Jason hung up, letting some of the tension in my shoulders go away.
"Who was that, Grayson?" Damian asked, sitting in his across from me.
Straining a smile, I raised my eyes up from the table. "Just Jason, nothing important." I said.
He nodded, going back to eating his pasta like he had before he had gone to the restroom. "I think we should do this less often." I said suddenly, watching Damian's eyebrow raise and his eyes narrow.
"I thought we had a deal?" Damian growled, suspicion in his voice.
"We do, I said less often not never again. But I don't think Tim likes this." I said, grinning at Damian's suspicious look turning to a confused one.
"Timothy does not know, Grayson." Damian said, his scowl deepening when laughed.
My grin grew as I said, "He doesn't have to, Dami. Can't you see he's getting jealous?"
"How can you tell Timothy is jealous? He has not said anything to me or you." Damian said, frowning.
"You mean you haven't seen the way his nose wrinkles when either of us mention going somewhere together around him?" I asked, "Or how he grinds his teeth together and his eyes start to twitch? He thinks we don't like him as much anymore, Dami."
"Tt. I told you to stop calling me 'Dami', Grayson. It is degrading." Damian said, narrowing his eyes. "And that is ridiculous, Grayson. Timothy would not be jealous over something so idiotic."
"Weren't you just telling me about how he almost took over Ra's' entire palace just so he wouldn't have to wait for coffee?" I asked, laughing as I put money on the restaurant table, so we could go home.
"Damian, duck!" I yelled as we walked into the front door of the manor, knives rushing towards our heads.
We both dropped towards the floor, me in a squat, Damian kneeling on the ground. I looked around the manor, gasping at who I saw on the floor.
Alfred was on the floor unconscious, pale and limp. His head had a stream of blood pouring down it, landing in a small puddle next to pieces of a shattered vase that must have been used to knock him out.
"I thought you said this place was safe." Damian spat, searching for whoever threw the knives.
"No place is safe from Madam Rouge." An thick French accent said behind me.
I turned around quickly, just in time to see a woman in red and black clothes that stuck to her skin stretch out her arm to punch Damian in the head hard enough to knock him out.
I sent a kick for her stomach while she was distracted, knowing it should have been enough to knock her to the floor. But... it didn't.
Instead of my foot hitting solid skin, it felt like it had hit rubber, stretching out her skin beneath my foot as she smirked. "That tickles." She said, her arm stretching out to grab me by the throat and throwing me into a wall.
I grunted, my back sliding down the wall as I landed in an ungraceful heap on the floor.
Pushing myself up, I slid into a fighting position, watching her walk towards me slowly with her same cocky smirk. "Who the hell are you?" I asked, circling around her.
"I am Madame Rouge, Nightwing." She said, her smirk growing as my eyes widened.
"How the hell do you know about that?" I hissed, picking up a vase closest to me and throwing it at her.
It bounced off her skin, not making a single scratch on her like my foot had. Crap, Alfred was going to kill me for throwing a vase at her like that and not hurting her.
"My boss has ways of figuring out who you pesky vigilantes are." She said, her heels cracking even more pieces of the broken vase as she walked over them, before stretching her arm out to punch me.
I ducked, cartwheeling away from the fist just in time so that she hit a chair instead. "And what does your boss want with us, huh?" I asked.
"What every villain wants. He wants to get rid of you, for good." She said, her arm stretching out again so fast that I didn't have time to dodge before it came crashing into my face. Her punch was strong enough that it sent me flying, my back crashing into chairs and a couch before I hit a wall again, but this time, with black spots dancing before my eyes. Damn, she was strong.
"You are through, Nightwing. We have already taken most of your Justice League, and their little sidekick team Young Justice. And the Brain, will rule the world." Madame Rouge said, before punching me one more time.
I groaned, falling towards the floor as the manor began to fade, and regret settled into my stomach. Timmy had been right.
"I don't suppose you'll let me try to leave again?" I said, the words coming out more as a statement than a question.
Jason snorted, getting off his motorcycle that was parked in front of Wayne Manor. "After all the precious time I took, when I could have been beating some guys skull in, to find you? Not a chance in hell, kid. Besides, Dickie's going to want to know Baby Bird got a girl friend." Jason said, smirking.
"Baby Bird?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him as I got off the motorcycle and walked towards the Manor.
"Yeah. Dick's Big Wing, I got stuck with Little Wing, therefore you get stuck with Baby Bird." Jason said, his smirk growing as I glared at him harder.
"Isn't Damian the youngest one, now?" I asked through gritted teeth.
Jason scowled, rubbing his hand where he was bitten by Damian before. "He's a demon. Besides, the little shit will probably try to bite me for it again."
I chuckled, walking behind Jason as he pushed open the Manor door. "Hey, Dickie! Guess who got a-... girlfriend." Jason said, his voice trailing off as he stopped in front of me.
"What is it?" I asked, side stepping around, and horror over took me.
The Manor was a disaster, pieces of broken vases everywhere on the floor. Huge dents were in the wall, with cracks and paint chipping and falling off. Furniture was over turned and broken, the pieces laying in shambles on the ground. "Where are the others?" Jason asked, narrowing his eyes as he started looking around the Manor.
"They were taken." I whispered, just loud enough that Jason heard me.
"What do you mean? There's no way they could have been taken, Nightwing's too strong, and Damian's a trained assassin." Jason asked, turning back towards me.
"Then why aren't they here, Jason?!" I snapped, my fingernails digging into the palm of my hands. "Damn it, I told him too. I told him we were getting picked off one by one, I told him!"
"What the hell does that mean, Tim? Who took them?" Jason asked, walking towards me in quick strides.
"Brain. He's taking the heroes, I saw it when no one else did, and... Bart, Roy, and Jaime were already taken. I told Dick someone took them, I told him, and he pushed it off." I rambled, my hands shaking as I unclenched them, my breath coming out faster. "He pushed it off and laughed, and..."
My eyes widened as my knees gave out, Jason barely catching me before I hit the floor. "Kid, calm down! You're having a freak attack, you're going to pass out unless you calm down!" Jason snapped, though I couldn't hear him past the sound of my heart beat in my ears, only reading his lips.
"Now he's gone because he didn't listen, him and Damian. I should have warned them more, made them promise to listen. They're gone now, Brain has them. They're probably dead." I choked, black clouding around my eyes. "I lost my brothers again. And it's my fault.
"Tim, Tim! Tim! Damn it, kid." He yelled, his voice sounding distant, and I barely felt him shaking me as I blacked out, fear swallowing me as all I could think about was my brothers are gone. And it's my fault.
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