Chapter Text
It started with Jon Kent being suspicious. Which—on its own—wasn’t groundbreaking. Jon was about as subtle as a traffic cone and folded under pressure like origami.
But this?
This was different.
The man was fidgeting, avoiding eye contact, and nearly bolting out of every room he entered. Jon was nervous—that much was obvious... But why?
Dick, Jason, and Tim were going to get to the bottom of it. No matter what it took.
⸻
“Damian’s with you again today?” Dick asked casually one afternoon, glancing up from his phone as Jon fumbled with his hands. They were in one of Wayne Manor’s cozier living rooms when Jon walked in, supposedly looking for a charger.
Jon froze mid-step. “Uh. Yeah!” he chirped.
Way too loud.
Way too nervous.
Way too suspicious.
“Homework,” he continued quickly. “Group project. Big… uh… chemistry unit coming up. Molecules.”
Dick blinked. “Molecules.”
“Yup! Covalent bonds. Ionic. The works. Chemistry stuff. Hehehe..” He replied, scratching the back of his neck.
Jason squinted from his chair. “Didn’t you nearly set the lab on fire last semester?”
Jon’s face twitched. “That was… unrelated. Different topic. Totally fine now!”
Tim leaned forward slowly, fingers laced. “And this chemistry session is happening at the public library on Main Street?”
Jon swallowed. “Y-yeah. Totally.”
“Funny,” Tim said, eyes narrowing. “Because Damian said you’d be at the Gotham Academy 24/7 library for history.”
Jon froze.
Jason whistled. “Damn. You’re both terrible liars.”
Jon bolted.
After superspeeding out of Wayne Manor like a man on fire, Jon realized—far too late—that he might’ve slightly overcorrected... and maybe he kinda didn't plan where he was going... and he definitely didn't account for his speed...
He found himself stranded in the streets of Paris.
“…Oh shit.”
As he made his way back home, Jon yanked out his phone and furiously started typing, trying to salvage the situation and alert Damian before the vicious Robin dismembered him.
This was going to be a long day.
But maybe the Batboys wouldn’t look too deep into it?
…Who was he kidding?
He was totally screwed.
⸻
Jonathan Samuel Kent [15:29]:
I PANICKED
I PANICKED AND I RAN
I THINK I’M IN PARIS???
Brooding Batlord 🗡️ [15:31]:
You think you’re in Paris?
Can you see the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, or the Seine?
Confirm your coordinates, imbecile.
Jonathan Samuel Kent [15:31]:
I just wanted to get AWAY
Now I’m next to a pastry cart and the air smells expensive
I made it worse Dami
They KNOW something is up
Brooding Batlord 🗡️ [15:32]:
Define your intent when using the word “know.”
Jonathan Samuel Kent [15:32]:
I said we were studying chemistry
You told them it was history
TIM CONNECTED THE DOTS IN REAL TIME
Jason started whistling
And Dick looked at me like I just confessed to murder
Brooding Batlord 🗡️ [15:33]:
I should never have entrusted you with this responsibility.
Jonathan Samuel Kent [15:33]:
EXCUSE ME I WAS DOING MY BEST
Brooding Batlord 🗡️ [15:33]:
Your “best” nearly exposed a covert operation because you cannot lie under mild questioning.
Jonathan Samuel Kent [15:33]:
Dick used the “I’m not mad, just disappointed” tone 😭
I almost cried bro
And did you just refer to Y/N as a "covert operation" NOWAY 😭😭
Brooding Batlord 🗡️ [15:34]:
That tone is a fabrication. He is always both.
I shall ignore your commentaries.
Jonathan Samuel Kent [15:34]:
Okay that’s kinda fair
but anyway
I panicked
I ran
I’m overseas
And your brothers are assembling a crime wall
Brooding Batlord 🗡️ [15:35]:
They are not my brothers, merely imbeciles who think they came first.
Of course they are "assembling a crime wall."
They are hooligans who have no concept of boundaries.
Jonathan Samuel Kent [15:35]:
They’re gonna FIND HER
They’re gonna SURVEIL HER HOUSE
They’re gonna SEE THE PINK FLUFFY BLANKET
AND THE TEA
AND THE—THE CUTENESS 😭
Brooding Batlord 🗡️ [15:35]:
If they even approach her property, I will break their kneecaps.
I don’t care how many of them there are.
Let them come.
Jonathan Samuel Kent [15:36]:
What do we DO???
This is like DEFCON 3
The next phase is PowerPoint presentations
Brooding Batlord 🗡️ [15:36]:
Meet me at her residence at 1600 hours.
Bring cookies.
Do not burn them this time.
Jonathan Samuel Kent [15:36]:
You’re being very demanding for someone who’s about to be exposed by a the devil's helpers
Brooding Batlord 🗡️ [15:36]:
I will not be exposed.
You will be publicly executed via my kryptonite stash.
Jonathan Samuel Kent [15:37]:
Tell Y/N I love her
Tell her I died protecting the fluffy pink rug
😭😭😭
Brooding Batlord 🗡️ [15:37]:
Do not ever use such language regarding Y/N, I am the only one whom she harbours feelings of affection for, understood?
If you die, I’ll allow her to sketch your gravestone.
Make yourself useful and bring Earl Grey. Do not disgrace me again.
⸻
Jon landed with a graceless thud on the L/N manor’s front lawn, breathless and wild-eyed, clutching a slightly crumpled bakery box so hard it bent at the edges, making him freak out even more. He stared in wonder at the large gates littered with guards. This wasn’t as big as Wayne Manor but still, it was huge. “Man I can’t believe I’ve never been to your girl’s house Dames,” Jon tried to ease his nerves, addressing the Arabian boy with wonder that barely covered his nervousness “I mean how long have you two been together? A year? And I’ve never seen her house? Woah.”
Damian was already waiting by the front gate, arms crossed, jaw clenched, and posture so stiff he looked ready to kill. His eyes took in Jon’s disheveled state with distaste.
“We’ve been together for 18 months and 2 days, and why would you see her house? She is my significant other. On another note, you’re late,” Damian said flatly, eyeing him with judgment people usually reserved for war criminals.
“I GOT LOST IN LUXEMBOURG,” Jon whisper-yelled, flinging the box into Damian’s hands. “Don’t start with me, man.”
“First of all, you have the ability to fly and you have superspeed, how could you get lost, you can literally travel the whole Earth in a matter of seconds.” Damian deadpanned as he opened the box with surgical precision, making note to try and fix its bent edges. “These are store-bought.”
“I didn’t have time to bake! You think I carry cookie dough through international time zones?!”
“You were supposed to bring earl grey tea as well you hoodlum.”
“Oh shit! I completely forgot!”
“Fine. What have you brought along.”
“Well, I panicked and got—” Jon checked the label, “—chocolate chip… and, uh… something called ‘raspberry bubble-unicorn’?”
Damian gave him a look that could end lives. “You disgrace me.”
Jon clutched his temples. “Damian, please. I’m begging you. Focus. This is bigger than tea. Dick made direct eye contact with my soul. Tim’s probably already hacking my GPS. Jason basically called me a ‘liar.’ They know something is up!”
“They suspect. They do not know,” Damian corrected, tightening his grip on the pastry box. “There is still plausible deniability.”
Jon stared at him. “You lied to them. I lied to them. BADLY. You know Tim’s building a dossier right now. He’s probably typing ‘Y/N’ into ten government databases.”
Damian’s jaw ticked. “If they so much as run a background check—”
“What?” Jon interrupted. “You’ll kill them? Hack the FBI? Blow up a satellite? ‘Break their kneecaps?’”
Damian didn’t answer.
“…That wasn’t a no.”
Damian turned, stalking toward the mansion’s front door with obvious anger bubbling inside him. “They know nothing of Y/N. We stick to the plan. We act natural. You do not speak unless spoken to. And most importantly, stop dishonoring me and stop proving to be a liability.”
“Got it.”
“You do not mention molecules, chemistry, history, or Paris.”
“Right.”
“And if you value your kneecaps—do not say the words 'bubble-unicorn' ever again.”
Jon winced. “Understood.”
Damian raised a hand and rang the bell.
The door opened almost instantly.
There you were. In fuzzy socks, an oversized sweater, and with a warm smile that made Damian’s nerves calm and planted a slight smile on his face.
“Hey you guys!” you beamed. “Come in! I made brownies.”
Damian stepped in with perfect calm, voice smooth. “You look radiant as always, beloved.”
Jon followed behind him, smiling too wide. “Hiyeshello! I’mJonandIloveyourhouse.”
Damian subtly elbowed him in the ribs.
You giggled, holding a hand up to your mouth “I know who you are Jon why are you so nervous it’s just my house.”
The door closed behind them.
The war had begun.
Operation: protect the Dami/N initiative has begun.
The biggest challenge? Not letting Y/N feel like something is off… and of course stopping the three huge manchildren from discovering Dami/N.
⸻
Damian’s head rested in your lap, unnaturally still for someone who claimed to be “relaxing.” His arms were crossed, jaw tight, but he let you run your fingers gently through his hair because how could he deny you? He knew you loved it. (No it’s not him who wants you to stroke his hair, you are the one who likes it.)
Across the room, Jon was sitting on your lounge chair tapping his foot like his life depended on it while desperately trying not to tap it in superspeed in front of you.
As soon as you left the room, with Damian begrudgingly letting you because you needed to use the restroom, Jon started pacing around in superspeed like a madman.
“No, seriously, we need a plan,” Jon muttered, practically vibrating. “They're probably already setting up surveillance. You know Tim has drones. Tiny drones. Owl-sized ones. Spy-level stuff.”
Damian didn’t even lift his head. “If Drake sends anything near this property, I will take joy in slicing his head off.”
“I’m not joking!” Jon whisper-shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “They’re probably building a murder board right now. Red string. Pins. Blueprints. Facial recognition software—”
“They know nothing about Y/N, they don’t even know she exists and it shall stay that way. Anything they ask? We deny deny deny. Now stop panicking or our plan will be compromised.”
“Okay. Okay. It’s Okay, I’ll just never come over to your place ever again. Easy.”
“Perfect.”
You entered the room again, bringing over the brownies and cookies, just barely missing the end of their conversation. “Hey guys! Who’s ready for the best evening of boardgames and cookies ever!”
Across from you Jon shifted in his seat, making an uncomfortable noise as he tried to sound excited, and Damian nearly facepalmed then and there.
“Jon?” You asked, “You sure you’re okay? You seem stressed.”
“Mhmm fine totally absolutely amazing YUP.” The blue-eyed boy said, all too fast.
You squinted at him, suspicious but too tired to press. “Fine. I’ll let you be but I’m your friend okay? You can tell me when you’re not okay. Is this about the school project?”
“WHAT!? NONO no worries! I’m okay!” He freaked out. “Anyway—gonna get a snack. Stress makes me hungry. Not that I’m stressed! Because I’m not. Haha.”
He disappeared down the hallway.
You turned back to Damian. “He’s definitely stressed.”
“Tt.” Damian closed his eyes. “He lacks subtlety.”
“Unlike you, Mr. Broody?”
He didn’t respond, but you saw the way his fingers twitched—just a little—against the pink blanket you kept on the couch. His other hand shifted to subtly clutch the hem of your shirt.
You leaned down and brushed a kiss to the top of his head.
“You sure everything’s okay?”
His lashes fluttered. “If it wasn’t, do you think I’d let Kent hyperventilate in your abode while I lay here with you?”
You laughed softly. “I mean... yeah.”
“…Then don’t worry. Everything is fine.”
From the kitchen, a scream rang out. Something crashed.
You stared toward the hallway.
“Should I be concerned?”
“No,” Damian said instantly. “That was… unrelated.”
Another crash. Then:
Jon Kent [from the kitchen, screaming]: “WHY IS THE KETTLE SPEAKING FRENCH??”
You raised an eyebrow, muffling your incoming laughter with your hand.
Damian sighed, eyes still closed. That man was Done With Jon's Shit. “I told you not to let him near your smart appliances.”
“Dully noted.”
You went back to stroking his hair. He melted just slightly into your touch, the only sign that—under all that calm composure—he was seconds from flipping a table.
As Jon came back, you pretended everything was fine and went to put on a movie.
As you settled back down on your couch, both boys met each other’s eyes behind your back and came to a silent agreement: Denial. Denial. Forever.
And you? You were non-the-wiser.
“Okay,” Dick muttered later that afternoon, spinning slowly in the worn-out computer chair in the Batcave’s dim glow. His eyes flickered between multiple monitors, each streaming fragments of surveillance footage, social media posts, and cryptic messages. He tried to focus on the case open in front of him, but he just couldn't, finally giving up and swiveling in the chair to look at his brothers. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to steady his racing thoughts. “I don’t wanna be paranoid, but… something about this doesn’t sit right.”
Jason, lounging on the edge of the tech table with a flicker of reckless energy, continuously tossed a Batarang between his fingers. The metal gleamed cold under the cavern’s lights as he caught it again and again with a sharp grin. “No, Dick. Be paranoid. I support this paranoia,” he said, voice amused but certain.
Tim, perched at the second chair next to dick, fingers flying across the keyboard of his personal computer with practiced ease, pulled up file after file regarding an unsolved murder case, but he, too, was tuned in on their conversation. “Let’s review the data,” he said, eyes narrowing as he sifted through the growing pile of information. “Every little detail, every anomaly. We’re missing something. Where are they now?”
"No idea." Dick sighed.
With a determined frown, Tim tuned to the batcomputer, starting his stalking spree and hacking into cameras and enabling his facial recognition feature to try and locate the two liars teens. "Okay, they're not at the public library.." more clicking noises filled the cave "..and they're not at the Gotham Academy library."
Jason chuckled. "Well duh, thought that was obvious."
"Haha, so funny." Tim deadpanned as his clicking got faster "The last working street cams show them heading toward.. 17th St NW"
"Ooh," said Dick "rich neighbourhood~"
"Not too far from here actually," Jason added.
"What are they hiding?" wondered Tim, slowly sipping his coffee.
"Whatever it is, our location is compromised; we can't investigate in the Batcave, Damian has access to that, he can sabotage us." At Dick's words, the three men perked up, deciding the safest location would be one of Jason's unused safehouses.
And just like that—the late night, the murmured suspicions, the compulsive gathering of scraps—the three oldest Batboys’ descent into madness officially began.
⸻
They started small.
Little notes.
The facts.
3:01 PM – Damian comes back from school.
3:13 PM - Damian is having lunch with fam. says he is going to the GA library to study history with Jon
3:15 PM - Damian is seen leaving the manor in his personal car, not with Alfred. Weird but okay.
3:17 PM – Disappears off grid. Not on tracker. Sus?
3:26 PM - Jon enters Wayne Manor and goes to the living room looking for his charger... Wasn't he supposed to be with Damian?
3:26 PM - Jon acting super weird
8:59 PM - Damian returns. Ruffled hair?? Acts normal??
"Now, what happened between the times 3:17 PM and 8:59 PM? We need a location and we need events," said Tim, ever the detective.
Then came the theories.
“Maybe he’s meeting Ra’s and Talia in secret,” Dick said.
“Maybe he’s in a cult,” Jason offered.
“Maybe,” Tim said slowly, “he’s dating Jon.”
Stunned silence.
“…Oh my god,” Dick whispered.
⸻
Somewhere in the safehouse, a dry erase board appeared overnight.
On it: (Note: Blue marker = Dick, Red marker = Jason, Black marker = Tim)
- A yellow sticky-note in the center, "WHAT ARE THEY HIDING!?" written in blue ink and it is cicled intensely in red with black arrows pointing to it.
- A blurry photo of Damian walking alone out of the Manor (captioned in blue: “Mid-mission or mid-date??”)
- A printed screenshot of Jon nervously sweating, taken from the Wayne Manor security cameras (captioned in blue: "lying liar who lies")
- A photo of the car Damian used to leave the manor, a black Rolls-Royce, very expensive (captioned in black: "license plate: GC-319DW - expensive sleek car.") (captioned in red: "Damijon date designated car?")
- Blueprints of both the GA library and the public library with each of their addresses (captioned in red: "the crime scene") (captioned in black: "fake coordinates")
- A printed photo of Titus, mid-jump, with red and pink ribbons tied around his neck (captioned in blue: “DAMIAN WOULD NEVER PUT THIS ON TITUS!”) (captioned in red: “WHY IS THE DOG IN ON IT!!??”) (captioned in black: “seems unrelated but could have hidden clues. Everything is evidence.”)
- on the top right corner, Damian's passport picture with the printed letters: "MAIN SUSPECT: DAMIAN AL-GHUL WAYNE, ALIAS: DEMON SPAWN, DANGER LEVELS: INFINITE, CRIME: UNKOWN" (captioned in red: “DEMON BRAT UP TO SOMETHING”) (captioned in blue - crossed out in black: “
He’s our baby brother🥺”) (captioned in black: “A suspicious baby brother.”) - and on the bottom right corner, a list of theories:
- Secret boyfriend (in black)
- Secret training (in black)
- Secret assassin stuff (in red)
- Secret hobby? (in blue)
Secret girlfriend???(in blue) Nah not possible (in red)- Hypnotized by alien seductress (in red)
- Witchery (in black)
- Gotham Academy has a secret society?? (in blue)
- Cult involvement?? (in red)
- The court of owls?? (in blue)
- a sticky note stapled on that list labeled "FACTS:" in black
- Titus knows (in red)
- Jon knows, Jon = weak link (in black)
- Bruce doesn’t know. He never knows. Don't ask or involve him. (in red)
- We are not overreacting. (in blue)
- We are doing our duty as brothers. (in red)
- ...we are totally overreacting. (in black)
- Yup but it is fun. :) (in blue)
Dick (and Jason) added glitter glue. “To make it festive.”
(I used ChatGPT and Canva to kinda show you what the whiteboard looks like.)
