Chapter Text
“I’m not taking him,” Tim protested, hands flat on the kitchen countertop. “He hates me!”
Alfred sighed, not meeting his eyes. “Master Bruce believes that it is important Master Damian feel welcome in this household, and you are the only person who has yet to do any recreational activity with him.”
“So what, I’ll be grounded if I don’t?”
“I imagine he’ll find a much more meaningful punishment.” Alfred finally met his eyes and Tim had to look away.
Tim had grunted but found himself stood in front of Damian’s bedroom door only five minutes later, boots laced and jacket tucked over his shoulders. He had barely raised his hand to the door when it swung open, Damian fully dressed and glaring.
“I’m taking you this week.” Tim huffed, staring at a particular point in the doorframe.
Damien made an affirming noise and pushed around him. They ended up in Tim’s red sportscar.
“You drive poorly.” Damian remarked, a hand on the passenger side door handle.
Tim snorted. “You drive worse.”
Damian hummed and Tim swore he’d never seen any emotion on the kid’s face, let alone regret, but Damian looked almost ashamed- eyebrows knitted together, looking down at his boots in the footspace. “Father told you about that?”
“Yeah, he did.” Tim shook his head. “Dick crashed it like three times when he was a kid, I bet B didn’t tell you that, did he?”
A visible spark returned to Damian’s eyes. “He did not.”
“Oh yeah, I never saw it myself, but I’ll ask Jason to tell you about the time he was in the car with them. I think that was after Dick got his license too.” Tim laughed, remembering when he’d been a little tween anxious with the world and lacking his usual overconfidence after a shitty patrol, and Dick had smiled easily and told him all about the stupid shit he’d done in the name of fighting crime as a kid.
“Interesting.” Damian sat in silence for the rest of the drive.
The ‘Redbird’ stuck out like a sore thumb among the other cars in the parking lot. Tim supposed that Dick’s modest prius usual fit right in around here. The employees would have an idea of who this brother of Damian’s was before he even step foot in the the place. Great.
Tim put the car in park and ran a hand through his hair. “What does Dick usually do when you’re…ya know, in there?”
Damian’s eyes went wide and he tilted his head to the side.“He comes with me.”
Abruptly, Damian got out and made a beeline inside. Tim grabbed his phone and flung himself out of the car, only remembering to lock it halfway to the doors.
“Damian-” Tim admonished, getting himself through the front door and into the waiting room. “You cannot just run off, I know Dick lets you do whatever you want because you’re his favorite, but please do not do that shit to me.”
Damian narrowed his eyes. “I’m his favorite?”
“Shut up.” Tim ruffled Damian’s hair and stepped up to the front counter.
The room was empty save the two of them. Commotion sounded from a far hall, and a kid around Tim’s age came bounding behind the counter. Big black boots, hair swooped over his face, and the most obvious face glasses Tim had seen in a long time.
“Hi.” He chirped. “We’re here to volunteer, this is my brother Damian, he usually comes in with our other brother-”
The guy turned to face them, huge smile plastered on his face. “Oh yeah! The funny guy, yeah he usually walks the dogs.”
That was obviously Connor Kent- Superboy. Tim’s best friend. Whom he was planning to reveal his identity to in three weeks time, a ‘birthday’ present. Well, for Tim’s birthday. They’d been trying to figure out a day to say was Kon’s birthday for some time now.
“Funny is debatable.” Tim groaned, watching Damian look between them quizzically. Of course the kid would figure out that Tim’s brain was close to short circuiting. “But yeah, um, he couldn’t make it so I’m here this week.”
“Alright, well Damian, you know where to get started. You- what’s your name?”
“Tim.” He held out a hand that Kon ignored.
“Right, Tim, you’ll be with me. We’re cleaning the cat room.”
Damian made a noise that implied Tim got the short end of the stick. Being stuck with Kon was going to be torture enough, he could put up with whatever gross shit they had to do. Damian peeled off towards a room filled with dog kennels, looking more excited than Tim had ever seen the kid.
Tim took a deep breath, following Kon through a series of hallways. “So how long have you been working here?”
“About three years now.” Ah, so that’s what Kon had started doing in his free time. The entire Young Justice team had gotten on Kon about not having any hobbies for the longest time, and at a certain point that got dropped because he’d stopped living at their old cave headquarters and texting them 24/7.
“This is my first time volunteering with animals.” Tim offered, hoping that Kon was capable of making short conversation and wouldn’t make them do their tasks in silence.
“Has anyone ever told you,” Kon started, searching Tim’s face for something, “that you have a very familiar voice?”
“Hm.” Tim considered, knowing that was a very Robin sound to make. “You’d be the first.”
Kon narrowed his eyebrows and shook his head, leading Tim into a room filled with empty mounted shelves and floor to ceiling windows. Cats leapt from surface to surface, without trying Tim could count over ten that weren’t hiding.
“Alright.” Kon shrugged off a flannel, revealing an old t-shirt that Tim had given him underneath. Tim swallowed hard and glared at a russian blue at the top of the centermost cat tower. “We’ll start with litterboxes, then we’ll wipe the shelves, and then last thing to do is sweep and mop.”
Tim nodded. “Sounds good.”
“Have you scooped a litter box?” Kon grabbed a scoop and trash can from a cabinet next to the door.
“Yeah, sure.” Tim nodded, taking a scoop from Kon’s hand and getting started on a box in the far corner. “Do you ever play music in here for them?”
Kon smiled getting started on a litterbox on the other side of the room. “Yes, but it’s always boring classical music.”
Tim huffed. “Our dad listens to that shit, drives me insane.”
“Apparently it’s good for the cats or something.” Kon shrugged. “And punk music is ‘bad’ and ‘obtrusive’ for them.”
Tim crossed his arms and rolled his eyes on instinct. “What did you play for them?”
“Pansy Division is hardly even that hard, it’s like melodic and shit.” Kon threw his hands up, still smiling at Tim. “I get it about Dead Kennedys though, ‘Lets Lynch the Landlord’ was instilling in them a rebellious attitude that could have been catastrophic for us in the long run.”
Tim laughed despite himself, doubling over the litterbox and only narrowly escaping getting cat shit on himself. “C’mon, you had to know that wasn’t going to fly.”
Kon shrugged again, “I can sometimes get away with the Kennedys cover of Viva Las Vegas, I thought maybe it’d be cool.”
Tim snorted, “At least you’ve got good music taste.”
“Thank you.” Kon nodded, grumbling. “Someone around here appreciates me.”
Tim narrowed his eyes, moving on to the next litter box. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I know it’s stupid but I’ve worked here three years, volunteered for a whole year before that too, and all they trust me to do is make sure volunteers don’t fuck shit up.” He sighed. “Eh, it’s fine, I’m not complaining, and no offense, but this is the easiest job in the world, volunteers mindlessly follow whatever you say, so it’s fine. Just wish I could do more than get yelled at about playing punk music for the cats.”
Tim was mildly offended to be lumped into any group considered mindless, but he knew Kon better than that and knew it’d cause some argument over semantics if he said anything. “What, like you want to do the paperwork side of things?”
“Yeah, that and the catch and release program. For the cats. I’ve been eyeing it for awhile and I think I’d be pretty good at it, keep telling my managers, and they keep saying that if I don’t have any cat scratch scars I’m not allowed. I have to have a ‘history’ with cats- and I do!” Kon lamented, litterbox forgotten. “I can catch an unruly cat better than half of them, without getting scratched at all, but oh no, that’s not good enough.”
“If that’s your biggest worry, I want your life.” Tim gave a half empathetic smile. “You haven’t gotten any cat scratches?”
Kon faltered, obviously not prepared for any further questioning on that front. Tim would have to call a meeting about their identities again. He’d gotten on Bart before, that kid couldn’t keep a thought to himself for the life of him.
“I-uh, yeah, guess not.” Kon turned back to the litterbox, face red.
A buzzing from Tim’s pocket drew his attention away. The YJ group chat was blowing up with messages. Cassie and Bart often used it instead of texting each other directly, which was annoying at first, but grew to be endearing after awhile. He knew that Kon had heard the buzzing and checked his phone to end his teammates torment over cat scratches.
Bart was talking about some new pizza place he’d found and needed them to order from the next time they ordered food and Cassie was asking for opinions on costume changes. Tim smiled at his phone but resolved to reply later when he could look closer at Cassie’s design modifications and cyber stalk the pizza place.
“You’re a popular guy.” Kon nodded at Tim’s phone as he pocketed it.
It was Tim’s turn to shrug in that smug way that he knew Kon hated. “Life’s rough for the son of a billionaire.”
Kon tilted his head, moving to the litterbox next to Tim. “Not to uh, pry…but, what?”
“Bruce Wayne.” Tim raised his eyebrows, watching the wheels turn in Kon’s head. “Did you never think, hey this weird kid with the last name ‘Wayne’ might be related to that billionaire guy in the next town over?”
“I never really…” Kon laughed, bright and full in Tim’s face. “Damian is weird, he’s really your brother?”
“I’m adopted.” Tim set down the scoop and trash can.
Kon clicked his tongue, a habit he’d picked up from Superman, Tim had noted three weeks ago. “Makes sense.”
“Speaking of, what’s he up to?”
The telltale look scrunched on Kon’s face- he was using superhearing through the walls. “He usually washes the dogs, kid’s got a way with the animals.” Kon’s nose scrunched up further and he dropped his scoop as well. “You know, this might be a great time to check in on him.”
Tim was immediately out the door, fast walking in the direction they’d come, Kon on his heels. “What do you mean by that?” He said through his teeth.
Kon rubbed the back of his head. “Just, there’s some big dogs he might need help getting into the tubs. Nothing serious.”
“Uh huh.” Tim’s mouth formed a line as he threw open the door that Damian had disappeared behind.
On the floor in front of them was Damian, pinned by a great dane licking at his face, laughing. Kon put a hand on Tim’s shoulder, who inadvertently leaned into it like he would normally with his friend. Kon quickly drew his hand back, not reading the act the same as he would with Robin.
“Tim!” Damian squeaked out. “Tim.” He said in a much more controlled tone. “Can we take this one home?”
“Another one?” Tim crossed his arms, but couldn’t help the smile on his face. Kon raised an eyebrow and Tim turned back to him, “Our dad already has a great dane, and Damian adopted one like a year ago.”
Damian pushed himself off of the floor, guiding the dog into the bath like none of that had happened. “Father has been worried about Ace’s declining morale, another dog could help.”
“Dude.” Tim pinched the bridge of his nose, quickly stifling the gesture as he realized just how Robin it was of him. “You know we can’t bring another dog home.”
Damian made a tutting noise and turned to the dog, ignoring them. Tim turned back to Kon to find him grinning like an idiot.
“What?”
Kon shrugged, turning around to hold the door for Tim.“Just never seen that kid smile. Glad we checked up on him.”
Tim huffed, feeling a soft wave of affection for his friend, despite how stupidly obvious his identity was in this moment. “I haven’t either.”