Who: Tim, Dick, and open to Damian When: 1/19/16 (little forward) Where: Gotham, Bat cave What: Dick and Tim chat about some family matters and the League in the Cave. Rating: PG
As soon as Talia had vacated the Cave, Tim had returned to his usual designation in front of the Computer. He'd refused to occupy the same space as a member of the League, instead simply reviewing how Talia behaved on the security feed. He drew what solid conclusions he could. Now several feeds were being viewed on the monitors, keeping an eye on them in his peripheral as he typed away and researched what he could.
He didn't look up when the familiar hum of Dick's bike echoed down the corridor leading into the Cave's hangar. The sound increased, lowered with the change of gears and finally it left a dull silence in its wake when he parked and shut it off. Tim continued typing, but was fully aware when the eldest sibling stood at his elbow. Dick had been careful to make noise on his way over, scratching at the sweat dried in his hair and making a sighing noise even. What does that say about us when we have to focus on walking noisily rather than silently?
"Any luck?" Dick asked.
"No. The numbers that called and inquired at the hospitals looking for her were burners. They aren't even in the databases anymore. It's the League, after all." He glanced up at Dick sideways briefly. Darker circles. Chapped lips. Skipped shaving. Specks of blood on his uniform and on the knuckles of the hand dangling on the corner of the chair. Some old, some fresh. "You?"
Dick shrugged, leaning on the chair even more as he crossed his ankles. He rubbed at his neck, fingers working at a kink of muscle. "They did look through the street docs, too, but then the questions suddenly stopped. They tracked her down here, but they backed off scouring the streets pretty quickly. Our usual suspects don't know what's going on, just an idea that something is going on. They're leery."
"Gathered that," Tim said, though not in an admonishing tone. He'd been monitoring the criminal activity. Nyssa had shaken the underworld up, but things had started to resume normally in the criminal business world. Then things had slowed, but not stopped. Caution, but nothing interfering with the operations Batman's family fought against nightly. "So they had an idea they weren't going to find her at the usual places the mortally wounded find themselves in."
"But they didn't come here."
"Nyssa isn't dumb. When your enemy is seeking allies, you don't make an enemy with those would-be allies to give them a reason to join against you." Tim tapped at a few keys, changing screens and checking the results. "We have to assume she knew Talia was here, though. Just by process of elimination. Our best course is to give some sort of gesture to hint at an olive branch, something that shows we want nothing to do with this conflict. I don't want her to assume we have allied with Talia. I'd much rather they focus on each other than on us."
"And on Damian?"
"Damian is what might drag us into the League's uncivil war. If Nyssa decides he needs to go, we won't get an option. Again, would much rather she think Talia is a far greater threat by far than us."
"But she has to figure we will choose the side that will protect Damian more. If she wins, Damian is likely to be forever in danger. She knows Bruce won't stand for that."
"No, but she has been here and planned on this coup for a while and never made a stroke toward him. That was her own olive branch to us. We were not high on the priority list and she can't want enemies on all fronts."
The corner of Dick's mouth lift. "All right. So we hint that we want to continue being neutral and uninvolved, that we have our own priorities currently to worry about. But..."
Tim leaned back in the chair. "But it's not enough."
Dick nodded. "We can't guarantee now that Talia has been rocked back on her heels that Nyssa won't push for any advantage over her. So Nyssa might come after Damian anyway."
"Exactly. Which means Damian shouldn't be out in the field."
This was where their line of thinking broke pathways, and they both knew it, blue eyes locking on each others, Dick's tired (too tired), Tim's sharp and determined with lips set in a line.
"Damian isn't exactly the type to be grounded," Dick stated. "While I agree that it would be best that he wasn't out in the streets right now, I also know the difference between reality and wishful thinking."
'Wishful thinking' rather than 'what we want'. That term is usually directed toward the other person in the conversation. He means me, though don't think he meant to infer it so directly. "Dick, it isn't about my wishful thinking. My thoughts and feelings about his being Robin are entirely separate on this," Tim tried to reassure. Both of them knew it wouldn't hurt his feelings at all if Damian was off duty for a while. Damian had improved, but there was still a brutality and superiority complex to him that irritated Tim. But in the end, it wasn't about that dislike.
It was about protecting Bruce.
Dick's body language changed, part of is spine curving a bit to lower his shoulders. "I'm just saying it won't work. We can't stop Damian from what he does. What are our other options?"
Tim looked upward toward the ceiling's blackness. He had been pondering that as well. "... Red herring." He shrugged a little, looking abashed at Dick. It was the best he had. "We put Damian out of country."
"Damian would be even more vulnerable in another country."
He is exhausted, or he would have caught what I meant. "Yeah. We just make them think he is. We can't keep Damian from being Robin, but we might be able to convince him to not be seen." He tried to smile, pulling an awkward one. "He was trained by ninjas, so disappearing should be his thing, right?"
Dick planted his palm firmly in Tim's hair, ruffling it. "People are used to not seeing us, silly. They'll have to somehow see him elsewhere. That's going to be more difficult to pull off without putting him in more danger."
"I'm working on it, okay?" Tim said, batting at Dick's wrist and smirking. "You probably got blood in my hair. Gross. You need to clean up and sleep before Alfred comes down here and drags you away by the ear."
Dick looked like he wanted to argue, but when he stretched and frowned thoughtfully. "Yeah, probably. Wouldn't want to upset 'Mom'." He looked at Tim as he turned back to the monitors. "Why don't you ask Bruce what he intends to do?"
Tim's fingers paused briefly over the keys before methodically continuing typing. "No. Let him focus on Dinah for now."
Dick was still for a few seconds before nodding. They had both been being careful to give Dinah, Bruce, and the new guest space and time to adapt. Dick had been too busy between Gotham and Bludhaven and trying to figure out where the League had its pawns to really catch up with them, despite his want to. "All right. I can't think anymore on it anyhow. I'm turning in. I gotta be in Bludhaven in about five hours for my shift."
Tim nodded. "I'll probably be sleeping when you take off. I'll let you know if I figure anything out."
"Sounds good," Dick murmured. Then abruptly poked Tim in the ribs. Tim hissed in a breath sharply.
"Ah! ...eesh."
Dick was grinning. "You're still healing. Don't wait too long to go to bed or Alfred is coming after you, too."
Tim rubbed at the tender spot on his bruised ribs. "Yeah, yeah, soon! Promise. Gee. Get out of here or it's going to take me that much longer, you know."
"Going, going, gone," Dick promised playfully, heading toward the stairs.
Tim stared after him to make sure he was really leaving. Then he looked back at the monitors. What are you two's next moves? He set his fingers to the keys again and quickly forgot about the dull throb in his ribs.