Work Text:
"Habibi?" Damian croaked, soft and whispered like a prayer, shoulders trembling despite the strength in his stance, "Habibi? Danny, is that you?"
For a moment, there is silence. A pause in the fight as two of them recoil – Tim and Bruce, faces stricken – before Jason and Dick follow, watching. The fight in the other, this small, hooded figure, just, collapsed. Dick could see it, in the way grief struck the boy's features like a mallet, causing him to stagger back a few paces. In the way where, even with his skin being the same dark shade as Damian's, he had paled like a phantom, drawn into a pallor, blood sucked from his skin. He looked like the dead.
He could see Jason freeze from beside him, shoulders still, mouth open in a surprise that Dick would have teased at any other time, if he could not see the same surprise in B's face, jaw set.
He was missing something here, he thought.
"You — You're not alive," The boy croaked, staggering back just another step before leaning between his feet nervously, like he was unsure whether to step forwards or run back, "I — Dami? Mother said you had died."
And that sounded pretty big to Dick. Big enough that something squeezed around his lungs, thinking, there's no way, there's absolutely no way, but —
"Mother," Damian spat venomously, with vitriol Dick hadn't heard the kid ever direct towards Talia — he never disrespected her with so much as tone. He was really, really missing something. He could see the way Bruce's eyes moved nearly a mile a minute, shifting between the two boys, something akin to grief set in his face, a loss he hadn't accounted for, hadn't calculated, and wasn't that unusual — There was no way.
But Damian... This kid was the carbon-copy of Damian. There was no way.
"Mother sent me on a mission. She said — she said you had failed." Damian continued, eyes still on the boy, shifting between eyes and body, like he was awaiting for the boy to disappear any minute. With the way the kid flickered a bit, not necessarily fading, but fluctuating, he might have. Something was really up with that, Dick noted. Meta. "She said you failed."
The kid shuffled on his feet, still unsure, but with eyes so blindingly desperate that Dick's heart gave a squeeze because, fuck, the kid looked so much like Damian. "I did — I. You had taken all my kills since I was young and — I couldn't, Dami. Mother sent me on a mission, and I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill him. She knew I couldn't."
From the corner of his eye, Dick could see Bruce taking in everything about this conversation, cataloging every breath, every syllable. His skin went pale, connecting the same dots Jason and Tim were connecting, all of them frozen, glancing between each other with a look best characterized as "oh, shit." Bruce kept his eyes on the two boys though, glancing between them quickly, frantically, if not for the sealed-off expression.
Damian looked so desperate it almost made Dick stumble forward. "What happened? Why couldn't —" And then it shifted, anger growing, his eyebrows pinched together, "You left me! You left me, and you — You said we would tell each other everything."
"I thought I had no one to tell, Dami," the kid said urgently. "Mother said that Grandfather had recently been resuscitated and that he had put you in the Pits in a fit of madness. She told me you were not dying when you went in. She said that since I failed..."
"He thought I was a failure, too," Damian breathed, letting a hateful scowl run over his face for a moment, before he looked back at the kid, nearly drinking him in. "Why did you not go to find Father? Grandfather would not have touched you, here."
For a moment, the boy's eyes go over to B, and Batman near freezes at the look. Jesus, Dick thinks. His eyes are an ice-blue — a carbon copy of Bruce's. Jesus.
The kid's eyes flicker away, back to Damian, nervously, quietly. "Mother said Father would be disappointed in my progress." His eyes very pointedly don't look anywhere near Batman. "She said it would be better if I died completely — A new identity. She said that... that I would not be welcome."
Batman sucks in a quiet breath at that -- barely noticeable in every way except the careful draw of his shoulders, a controlled in, a controlled out. The boy catalogs it, of course -- a flicker of his eyes and a drawing of his own shoulders before he glances back at everyone else, too. He glances over Dick, glances over Tim, but his eyes linger on Jason for a second.
Eyes flash green, but there's a wide-eyed pain in the singular look that has him snapping his attention back to Damian, near desperately.
Fuck.
"Damian," Dick says carefully, not light-hearted, but evidently non-threatening compared to the fighting before. "Who's this?"
He knows Damian better than himself. Sees the way the kid draws himself up for a moment, a flicker of nervousness that hadn't been there before – he had no time to prepare to introduce his... He had no time to prepare. Damian hated impromptu.
"Dami, you –" The boy starts, going to say something before snapping his mouth shut at the attention landing on him. His eyes flicker back to the group – still not landing fully on B – before looking back at Damian.
"This is my younger brother," Damian says, soft and lost, completely unlike himself. "Danyal al Ghul."
As soon as the name is out, it is like the boy comes to a decision. Both feet are planted next to each other rather than one posed to pivot and flee. His expression is tight, lingering between all of them, cataloging, before going back to Damian, seemingly like a reassurance. His fists are clenched. Hands shaking.
His heart hurts, and Dick can see the rest of them are just as blind-sided; Jason is frozen, mouth slightly ajar and incredulousness beginning to set in each second longer, and Tim has that look that makes him seem like he's calculating something, an inwards scrunch to his eyebrow, a surprise piece on the board. Bruce is – Bruce.
Bruce is just staring.
Danyal, if that is indeed his name, bites his cheek before he greets, soft and wisp-like, "...It is a pleasure to meet you."
Dick wants to laugh at the bland greeting, and he almost does - a light breath out that's only unhysterical because of the sheer tentativeness the kid exudes. And really, how else does one introduce themselves in this kind of situation?
"I’m Dick," He says, and catalogs how his brothers sharply look up from the lack of a codename. He doesn't give the rest of them time to think about it before he continues, nodding with a smile, "That’s Jason, and Tim. Your brothers." He stares at Bruce. Dick cannot be the one to introduce him.
The boy – Danyal – nods at them, expression strong but crackling into a mixture of overwhelmed awe and a nervousness, a glance towards Bruce one more time, a drawing up of his shoulders, before he looks again at Damian. He tries to draw back, but Damian straightens, sharp and ready if, indeed, Danyal attempts to flee, so he instead just completes a small shuffle backward, looking between them again, and stopping again at Bruce.
God, Dick thinks, he looks so young.
"Grandfather will find you," Danyal begins, then, softly and eyes to Damian, gaze not even looking in his eyes, which makes Dick feel like there's been a punch to his gut. He is so different from Damian, scared in a completely different way, his expression open and emotional, eyes imploring. They might have the same face, but they wear them completely differently - Danyal a constant mixture of expressions that Dick couldn't imagine Damian in, ever. Jesus. A whole other brother he's never known. From the wounded sound that Bruce makes, he feels the same way. Another son. Another child hidden from him. Jesus.
Danyal swallows, a strange sort of determination mixing with his discomfort when he says, "I have been getting rid of the Lazarus Pits – his Shadows will be here soon if you don't flee, Akhi. He will think it is your doing if you stay."
Damian's expression twists, but then again, so does everyone else's. Danyal looks unwilling, nearly like he's already lamenting their departure. He seems to be under the impression he wouldn't come with them. Dick meets Tim's eyes – watches carefully as Jason shuffles slightly, close to circling him. Bruce is tense, cataloging everyone's position. They all agree that isn't happening.
"Then let us go," Damian says commandingly, grasping the thin wrist of his brother, hiding a desperation in the way he tugs him slightly inwards, towards himself. "We came only to investigate the Pit's disappearance. We no longer have reason to do so."
"Akhi," Danyal says, as Dick's heart stops from the resignation, an old heartbreak in it, his body doing that strange flicker again, a vague green disturbance, "... I can't."
Damian's grip turns tight, expression firm but still yet calm – like it isn’t up for discussion, which. They all agree that it isn’t. "You will. You must meet Father. You must meet the rest of our family. Mother would have wanted such, and Father wants to meet you."
Jason is properly behind the kid now, Tim carefully placed on his right, and Dick watching from the left. Bruce, behind Damian's back. There's nowhere he can go except up, but there is nowhere to climb, open stars shining down on them, on the empty crater where there was once a bubbling, eery lake of green. They're in position now, but it's time to start damage control. His eyes flicker to B.
Bruce takes a moment to collect himself – has been taking a moment the entire time – but it registers, and he collects when he slowly goes forward. Soft and steady when he says, a gentle expression on his face, "I'd like to meet you formally, Danyal, if that's alright. Can I come closer?"
Danyal's expression tightens with a thin worry, but when his eyes flicker back to Damian, he sees no doubt in his brother's expression. Dick watches their silent conversation, the openness in which Damian allows himself to be read, the way his eyes are soft in ways Dick's seen only in the most recent few years. Sees the way that Danyal, most likely subconsciously, relaxes at the sight. For a moment, he glances at Tim, at Jason, and finds them similarly enthralled. It's like a whole other side to Damian that they'd only seen shadows of coming into the light. Bruce's eyes aren’t wet, but he drinks the sight in like they might be soon.
Danyal gives a short, hesitant nod, not yet looking away from Damian before he peels his eyes away only in the last second. And as soon as he looks up, his expression becomes a mixture of overwhelmed awe and fear, a flinch barely suppressed. Damian's hand, Dick notes absently, slides down and grips fiercely on Danyal's.
"Mother told us many stories of you," Danyal says finally, looking up in hopeful, wide flickers, moving between him and reassuring glances from Damian. "I... In my years of absences, I found out more," he admits slowly, before tilting his head up, a look of confirmation in his eyes, "Bruce Wayne?"
If he's surprised, he doesn't show it. Bruce nods, softly and slowly, like he’s approaching a cornered cat rather than a carefully hopeful child – his son. Jesus. He bends down onto one knee and says, a gentle, praising tone in his voice, "You're very smart for figuring that out," and watches as Danyal's shoulders relax just a bit. As Damian’s grip slackens minutely. "It's nice to meet you, Danyal."
Danyal nods, not unlike how Bruce did, Dick thinks in a mixture of hysterical detachment, before a weighted silence fills the room. He looks down, then to Bruce, then to Damian, before he steps back, slowly and quietly, as if anything else will destroy the soft atmosphere that built up. Bruce doesn’t move back, nor forwards, but he watches carefully – they all do – when Danyal’s hackles seem to rise again, a nervousness growing once more.
"I have to go," he murmurs quietly. "And so do you. The Shadows will come any minute.”
And they know it, they do, but it’s evident that none of them are leaving without this brother they hadn’t known about. A whole sibling – an entire side to Damian’s family they hadn’t seen. Dick’s heart aches. From the way the kid looks, forlorn and slightly mourning, which looks heart wrenching on a face that looks to be twelve or thirteen years old, the idea of coming with them still hasn’t even crossed his mind.
“Alright,” Bruce says – and it is Bruce that says it, voice a soft, reassuring rumble, “How about we get out of here and talk on the Bat-Plane?”
At that, Danny freezes, his head whipping up, and he can’t even conceal the confusion in his expression when he says, “... We?”
Damian swoops back in, taking his hand and already going to leave, his steps assured even though he only goes at a pace that everyone can keep up with – a pace that will let them interfere if Danny decides against it. With his chin up, confident and looking forwards, though his eyes still go to corners, watching and waiting to see if the Shadows have come early, he says, “Come, Danyal, Father is right. We shall talk on the plane.”
The kid is blind-sided, obviously. Dick sees the way his jaw goes slightly slack, eyes wide, as he glances between the back of Damian’s head and the rest of them, who fell into step almost as soon as Damian took his first steps back outside, away from the empty Pit – which Dick can already tell bugs B more than he’d like it to; with how they saw Danny positioned over the empty, smoking thing, eyes blank – and farther past the rubble that hid this relatively off-shore site. It was one of Ra’s lesser ones, a small pond known more for solving injuries rather than his cavernous decadal resurrections. Danny looks back at them, at Bruce most especially, wariness leaking into his frame the more they walk silently, but it isn’t their fault, really. Jason is holding up the back, tension lying in his frame in a way that hadn’t before he’d made contact with the kid, like the flash of recognition between them had started something he would most definitely need to mention in the mission breakdown. Tim is watching silently, cataloging – but Dick doesn’t blame him. Ra’s is cruel, and known for worse things than making a clone of a dead twin, which, at the thought, Dick straightens his back.
But he doesn’t think it’s true. Not with the way Danyal looks more and more nervous – and so young – God, he looks so young. They couldn’t be twins, Dick thinks. Danyal is a good few inches shorter, like Damian is at the end of a growth spurt and he’s at the beginning; his eyes still a little too big for his face. But there is no way that Danyal isn’t Bruce’s, either – Danyal looks nearly like a carbon copy. So what happened?
Danyal pauses, shoulders slightly hunched, as he says, “Akhi, I don’t think…”
Dick zones back in, giving a wincing smile when he notices that Danyal is beginning to notice them. His eyes flicker from Tim to Dick, the way they stare at him, and tenses when he realizes that both Jason and Bruce aren’t in his line of sight, vaguely behind. He suddenly begins to walk with the same shadow of a fighting stance they’d seen in Damian – in Jason, sometimes. The way he walks becomes more stilted, slightly more flighty, positioned onto his toes more than the heel, and the hand holding his brother’s is loosening. Damian’s hand, in response, tightens.
“The Shadows will come, little brother,” Damian reminds, pulling him forwards.
“But –”
“This isn’t a trick,” Damian says, stopping for a moment to look at him. “Father is not testing you. He is not like Mother. We must go before the Shadows get here.”
At that, Danyal’s frown grows, more disbelieving and wary than before, but the fighting stance melts off him slightly – a miniscule change to his gait – and they continue.
“It’ll be nice to get to know Damian’s little brother,” Dick says, filling the silence casually, giving a wry smile. “I knew it had been too long since B’s adopted anyone.”
“They come to me,” Bruce says, his grumbling version of amused.
“I don’t think that’s how adoption works,” Tim murmurs, but Dick cuts his un-exciting take off:
“Sure it does, Red!” He says, loosening his walk, letting a grin out, watching as Danyal relaxes, “It’s just he’s also coincidentally there every single time. For… how many has it been now? B?”
Batman grumbles a bit more, and Dick can hear Jason muffling a snort, which makes him tick up the theatrics even more.
“What was that?” He asks innocently. “Three? Four? I’m having trouble remembering – I think that might have been where I lost count.”
Tim pipes up, catching the drift, “I’m pretty sure there’s at least five, but even with my memory, it’s growing a little foggy…”
Bruce grumbles again. Danyal’s small smile is growing, and Dick’s grin widens when he sees it from the corner of his eye.
“Ah? Ah?” Dick says, cupping a hand over his ear, “Did you say something?”
“Seven,” Bruce says gruffly, with a comical sniff that makes the little one give out a small, minuscule noise of a laugh. They all share a pleased glance, “There are seven of you.”
At which everyone knows they’ve done their job: Danyal blurts to Damian, “We have five siblings, Akhi?”
“Nope, baby D,” Jason says from behind, the mechanized sound of his voice calling from behind him, amusement somehow coming clear through it, “You’re number eight.”
It takes a herculean effort not to laugh directly at the wide-eyed look Danyal gives – or stop, mouth-agape, at the soft smile that Damian gives Danyal. It’s achingly familiar, all Bruce, and something none of them had seen full-on. Dick watches as Tim and Bruce nearly freeze, watching with open shock and melting adoration, respectively. Dick himself feels like the world has stopped and started multiple times throughout this entire conversation.
“I know,” Damian says, reading Danyal’s look, squeezing the boy’s hand, before his smile turns more private, nearly shy. “Our family is much bigger than we thought.”
And there’s a lot of questions. So, so many questions, from the way Danyal flickered nervously, a non-existence for the moments when they assumed him a Shadow himself. From the way his eyes flashed the same mercurial green that haunts Jason’s nights, a control they hadn’t ever seen before, a strength. From the way they had no idea he existed, falling under radars, the way Bruce somehow missed this, how they all missed him – but. But the way Damian looks at him.
They’re gonna be okay, Dick thinks. Watches as Damian leads his brother into the plane.
They’re gonna be okay.