Chapter Text
The day of the ball as it always was came creeping around the corner. And Tim was… nervous. Not because of his upcoming betrothal to Connor, but because he still had no idea whether or not Nightingale will come. He kept the invite, sure, but didn’t gave the straight answer. It was funny in hindsight how man almost never gave a straight answer considering his personal matters. Tim couldn’t say it were half-truths, but there certainly was an omission going on. It made Tim’s teeth itch.
So, the ball came in all its riyal glory and Tim felt jittery. His father opened the grand hall to all kinds of guests; still, almost an hour from the start, there still was no remarkable figure in the crowd. Not that Nightingale will stand out but his presence was almost felt. He was commanding the room with ease despite being an omega or maybe because of it. So Tim has no chances to miss him coming in.
From across the room he saw Jason look around as if waiting for someone. And there was only one person they both can hope to make an appearance tonight.
“Everything okay?”
Tim startled from unexpected presence and whirled around to come face to face with his dad.
“B…” he breathed out, slumping in relief. “Yeah, just watching out for Nightingale.”
Bruce’s face made a sudden twist something between incredibility and concern.
“You think he will attend?” His eyes swirled around the room looking for someone and landed back on Tim.
Tim squirmed in place.
“I’m not sure…” he drawled. “Maybe? I will be excited actually for you two to meet. Nightingale can do a lot for omega’s here. Or coordinate your efforts with king of Metropolis and Themescira. It will be good.”
Bruce shook his head but didn’t offer his input in the matter, his gaze still searching, and Tim waited for his dad to sort through the swirl of thoughts in his head.
To be honest, king of Gotham had somewhat crumbled after hearing about the supposed fate of his first son. For a day, he had completely shut off and underworlds will freeze over if it wasn’t scary to watch (and to be completely honest, Tim cried through that night).
“All good?” Tim and Bruce both turned to Jason and Cass coming over. A glass of sparking drink was in Cass’s hand, and Jason held something that smelled absolutely disgusting in his.
Tim scrunched his face and sent his brother a sight eye.
“What?” Jason raised an eyebrow. “I like it.”
He shrugged and took a sip. Tim wrinkled his nose and took a step away in futile attempt not to smell whatever was in that glass.
For several long and quite, if he was being honest, moments their little royal family talked to other royals and nobles, answering questions and returning pleasantries. It was a routine until Jason looked around and asked, “Where’s the Demon Brat?”
Tim startled out of his thoughts and too looked around.
“I think I saw him talking to someone earlier,” came Steph’s answer. She joined them earlier on and now had draped herself over Cass’s back. In her hand, she held the same sparkling glass.
Jason’s eyebrows shot up.
“Demon brat and talking to someone? Like normally?” he huffed. “Disappoint to brake it to you Stephy, but demon doesn’t do normal. So whoever you see talking to him must be already dead.”
Steph huffed.
“Why you then don’t go and see?”
Jason crossed his arms.
“To be accused of murder? Again? Gee, thanks but no. send Tim.”
Tim looked at his brother scandalized.
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you too,” Jason returned smugly, and Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Kids, what had I said about using unbecoming language in public?”
Jason grumbled something under his breath no less unbecoming of the royal prince and Bruce sighed. Tim snickered.
“Well it’s good and all,” Steph slid off of his girlfriend’s back and stretched. “But shouldn’t we check on that pure soul that got into Damien’s clutches?”
Bruce sighed once more however before anyone could say anything a snicker came from behind them.
They all turned at once.
“I believe such measures are uncalled for.” Damien glared at Steph darkly and turned to his father. “Father, I require your attention this instance.”
Bruce let out a silent sigh.
“What is it?”
Steph snickered and nudged Tim with her elbow. Tim rolled his eyes. Damien once again send them both a glare and in an unusual display of childiness latched onto Bruce’s sleeve and pulled his father impatiently.
“Let’s go, father.”
Bruce silently followed his son. Sharing a look between themselves, the others followed too.
Damien dragged them through the hall and stopped next to the west wall, where the windows faced the wide expanses of royal gardens. Near the deposited there tables stood two persons. One with distinguishable white hair, and the other, who stood back to the world and face to the window, with dark skin and dark hair.
Tim’s heart skipped a bit when he recognized the intimidating figure of Deathstroke. It stopped completely although, when Damien, still dragging Bruce behind him, exclaimed, “Baba, laqad 'ahdart 'abi!”
Tim didn’t get the words but knew that it was a league dialect that Damien had spoken around his family two or three times. What stunned him further however, was the fact that Nightingale (and it was him! He came!) turned around, tentative smile breaking his frown, and called back in exactly the same language.
“Shkraan, habibi.” He ruffled Damien’s hair as he let go of Bruce’s sleeve and got closer. And the kid let him.
“Heavens and demons,” murmured Jason behind them and Tim agreed wholeheartedly.
Nightingale though turned to face the little procession fully and his eyes skipped over every person in the group before landing on Tim.
“Hey there, baby bird, thanks for the invite.” He extended his wrist, and Tim stepped forward on reflex mixing their scents in a sort of temporary pack mark. Almost instantly, he felt more at ease than several seconds before.
Nightingale turned to Jason next.
“Jay.” The ritual was repeated smoothly, and then Jason, being the shit he was, added,
“Glad you came. Timmy here had his pants in a twist otherwise.”
Nightingale smiled, while Steph snickered and Cass smirked, looking at Tim knowingly. She turned to raven haired man and extended her own wrist.
“Cass,” she said simply and nodded. “Good came.”
Nightingale nodded in return, swapping her scent gland. He turned to Steph.
“What?” she raised an eyebrow and pointed to herself. “Me too?”
Before nightingale can nod, Jason leaned forward and explained.
“He does this to everyone. So relax and enjoy.”
Steph squinted at him, then at nightingale but finally accepted the scent mark. This left the only ungreeted person – the king himself.
Nightingale slowly turned to him, and Tim noticed how every muscle in his body tensed as if he was ready to pounce.
Swallowing hard, nightingale finally said.
“You majesty,”
“Nightingale,” came the curt reply. “I heard a lot about your deeds from my sons and others.” He looked sideways. “And you should be Deathstroke?”
Slade nodded.
“I am.”
The room held its collective breath.
“Deathstroke!?” Steph squawked. “That one? Deathstroke?”
Slade looked at her amused.
“The one and only,” he smirked and Nightingale rolled his eyes. He relaxed, though, Tim noticed. Even if so slightly.
Bruce nodded, though everything in his posture screamed suspicious to a knowing eye. Nightingale, surprisingly seemed to be in their ranks as he tensed back up and fidgeted with his sleeve. It took Slade putting his hand around it to stop him from tearing the fabric.
“Your majesty,” Bruce looked at omega and Nightingale swallowed, obviously nervous. “May we have a conversation somewhere in private?”
Bruce looked around and a lot of nobles to no avail made a feigned conversations as if they weren’t listening in seconds prior. Then he nodded.
“Fallow me.”
The small procession once again went to relocate, and Tim took his chance to walk near Nightingale. Though to his immense displeasure Damien had beaten him there. The kid was holding Nightingale’s hand and glaring at everyone. Tim pointedly ignored him, matching his and omega’s paces.
“Thank you for coming,” he said trying to convey the depth of his gratitude through those four words.
Nightingale smiled and used his free hand to pull Tim into a side hug.
“You welcome Timmy. I think this was all I needed to finally come to a closure.”
Tim frowned. However before he could ask, Jason chimed in.
“How you managed to tame demon child?” he asked innocently and nightingale frowned.
“Who?”
“The demon child here,” he gestured to Damien and the kid hissed. Tim expected him to reach to his weapon as usual, but the child just glared. Didn’t even try to attack.
Nightingale’s frown deepened, going from confused to disappointed.
“That’s not nice, Jay. Dami is a kid, and a good kid, you can’t call him that.”
Jason huffed.
“Well, that’s what he is. A demon and a child.”
Nightingale’s expression become sad and he pulled kid closer almost hiding him in his robes.
“You don’t know even the half of a story jay.” He murmured sadly. “And it is not my right to disclose it. So I ask, please, stop calling him that or any other derogatory name.”
Jason’s face dissolved into shock.
“Why?”
Nightingale smile, looking down at Damien who was surprisingly well behaved this evening.
“I view him as my abn. My son.”
They all lost their footing at that.
“What?” came Steph’s shrill cry, and Tim found himself very glad that they entered private rooms of the castle. What a scandal it could have been otherwise!
Bruce whirled around, his face blank with shock.
“What?” he asked and Nightingale pulled the boy in his arms even closer, looking at the ruler of Gotham defiantly.
“He. Is. My. Son.” He reinforced every word with a glare as if daring the king to challenge his claim.
Bruce paled. He looked at Damien then back at Nightingale.
“But he said his mother was Talia… and I don’t remember sleeping with you…”
The audible hush came upon the hall they were standing in.
Nightingale stared at the king, mouth agape, Deathstroke behind him looked almost murderous and Damien looked absolutely disgusted.
“That… that is so unbecoming you, father. I have no comment to this absurdity of an idea.”
This made Nightingale snap out of shock. His face scrunched in disgust as he shrieked,
“What the heavens, B! How could… how… Ew…” he shook his head feverishly, then took a long breath and slowly let it out, calming himself. “No,” he said looking king in the eye. “Dami’s mother is really Talia, though I will never get how the hell you two got together in the first place, but that’s off topic. Ever heard of adoption?”
The majority of the group snorted at that and Bruce’s face dawned at the realization.
“Oh,” he breathed out, definitely relieved. “I apologize for making assumptions.”
Nightingale too let out a relieved sigh.
“Well, you will not be the first…” he muttered. “Let’s get inside.”
Gesturing to the door near them, omega ushered everyone inside.
Tim had a really bad feeling about this. The whole family was present and that never lead to something pleasant. Looking how nervous Nightingale was, his gut had every reason to dread.
They took their places around a small table: the majority of the family on one side, Nightingale in the armchair opposite them all, and with Slade at his back.
Slowly, working up a courage, omega breathed in and out. Then, interrupting whatever Bruce wanted to say to calm him, he thrusted his wrist over, right under kings nose.
For several long seconds there was nothing. And then slowly Bruce’s eyes met Nightingale’s.
Cautiously he took omega’s wrist and sniffled it again. Then again. And again. He stood up and walked around the table to smell his neck gland too. And despite his mate growling, Nightingale allowed it.
Tim’s heart was beating in his chest rapid fast. He watched the interaction occur with absolute confusion and from the looks of others, they too had no idea of what was happening.
Slowly Bruce straightened.
“Dick?” he asked hesitantly, voice just a tone louder than a whisper. Nightingale met king’s eyes. The same unsure “Hi, B,” falling from his lips. And somehow that was enough to unmade them both.
Bruce rushed forward, caging Nightingale in his arms, and omega desperately gripped him back. Whispered words in unknown to all language were exchanged, and even if none of them knew what was said, the silent cries and sour smell couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.
The mighty king of Gotham had finally found his first son.
Tim felt joy rear up inside of him at the realization. The omega he came to adore was actually his long-lost brother! It was the best event ever happened to him! It was the absolute joy!..
Tim glanced at Jason. Who looked back with the same look of mixed happiness and anxiety. Their father deserved this moment. Deserved to have his son back. But what… what his return makes of them? Dick Grayson was a shining star. They could never stand for his shine. Not now not ever.
The pair on the opposite side finally let go of each other, wiping tears and smiling happily. They both turned to the rest of them.
“So,” began Nightingale. “I guess you already understood who I really am.” He laughed a little still clutching his father’s hand. “But I will say this officially. My name is Richard Grayson. And I am the first son of Gotham. It is nice to meet you.”
Tim nodded, trying to be polite. Cass too. The others however just kept staring. Jason was the first one to unfroze, and of course, in his usual fashion he react with anger to confusion.
“You said he was dead!”
Nightingale - Richard. Tim really should start calling him by his name – rose an eyebrow, unfazed.
“Did I really?”
Jason opened his mouth for a retort, but Tim beat him.
“You didn’t, but you made us assume.”
Richard laughed.
“Yeah, that I did. Sorry.” He looked at Bruce. “I wasn’t planning on coming back. So it was easier to make you believe I was dead. To give you some closure.”
Bruce looked heartbroken at the admission. He gently squeezed his son’s hand.
“What made you change your mind?”
Nightingale casted a brief glance at Tim.
“It was a number of factors, but the main reason was that you guys treated me as a family. Even not knowing who I really was. You cared. You wanted me in your life, and I… honestly, I wanted it too. I wanted my brothers to know me, I wanted my family to stop grieving.”
He rose his head to look at Bruce and something in him firmed.
“That and the fact that you changed. You changed, B, you became better. It was safe for me to come home. So I came.”
Bruce made a sound, suspiciously sounding like a sob, and fell forward once more engulfing his son in his arms.
“Im sorry, Dick, im so sorry.“
Richard hugged him back.
“I know Dad. I saw all the work you put in after my disappearance.”
Bruce leaned back and cupped his face.
“That’s not enough. No apologies can remake what you went through. So, please, don’t forgive me. Never forgive me.”
Nightingale huffed.
“That’s not up to you but to me. And I forgave long before this. So suck it up. I had forgave you. I love you, still, despite everything. And I came home to once again try to be a part of your family. So, what do you say?”
For a brief moment Bruce was stunned. Then realization snapped and he slowly raised his hand.
“You sure about it?”
In lieu of an answer, Dick rolled his eyes and leaned forward.
“Do it already.” He said, no hesitation in his tone. So Bruce rose his hand to his neck and gently rubbed his scent gland there with his wrist. Scenting him. Marking.
Tim felt how the new bond thrummed through their pack one, how it snapped into place, took what was always there. Filled it. It was as if the original bond between Bruce and Dick never broke. Just… faded. It was an amazing sense of fullness, of completion. It was amazing.
“Thank you,” Dick leaned back smiling, and turned to his newfound siblings. “I know this is a lot and maybe you don’t want me to be here…”
He never got to finish his thought.
With a sharp cry and faster than anyone could blink Steph was on the other side of the table.
“Finally!” she shouted hugging their oldest brother. Even if she was never considered to be a part of a royal family. “Fucking finally! B can stop mopping! Hell yeah!
Dick laughed confusedly holding her in his lap.
“That’s all it takes you to accept?”
Steph swatted him gently.
“Shut. Up. You weren’t even here to deal with his mood swings. You don’t get a say.”
Dick laughed and Bruce grumbled ‘Rude’ under his breath.
“Welcome back.” Cass was the next one who went in for a hug but kept things nice and simple. She scented him too, reinforcing their already exciting bond. “Looking forward being little sister.”
Dick beamed at her and smoothly pulled her into a firm hug.
“The most adorable little sister.”
Cass smiled and walked back to her seat.
That left Tim and Jason.
Tim fidgeted with his sleeve, not sure what to say or how to act. He admired Richard Grayson, but never knew him. He loved Nightingale but he never was his brother. And now those two persons collided, bringing Tim’s world down. He didn’t know how to act, standing in the ashes.
Jason was more apt with his emotions.
Young alpha rose and walked to stand before sitting omega.
“I hate you,” he spat, and Dicks scent soured immediately. However before he could say anything Jason leaned down and hugged him hiding his face in other’s neck. “Fucking never do that again.” He murmured. Then after some thought, added, “Bastard.”
Dick laughed looping his arms around his little brother who was two times broader than he.
“Promise, Little wing.”
Jason grumbled under his breath and straightened. Now Tim was absolutely undeniably the last.
Nightingale looked at him and opened his mouth to say something. Something, Tim wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.
“Stop it.” He said and Dick stopped. “I need time.” With that he rose and walked out of the room, leaving behind stunned faces and confused murmurs.
He really needed to process.
____________________
For a week, for a whole week they avoided each other. Well, maybe only Tim avoided, but the castle was big, and what made everything easier – Dick hadn’t stayed there, preferring to live in his old ‘Nightingale Song.’ To say Bruce was disappointed is an understatement.
So, yeah, for a whole week Tim was avoiding his older brother.
Right. Older brother, because he finally had processed everything.
And now he was standing in front of Nightingale’s song, in the middle of the night and waiting for someone to answer. Finaly the door opened.
Dick stood there, his figure illuminated by the lamp he was holding.
“Tim?” he sounded concerned, and before omega could get out expectable ‘what happened?’ Tim surged forward and wrapped his arms around him.
“I love you,” he muttered into his brother’s chest, hugging him tighter. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh baby bird…” warm hands squeezed him back. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
And now, enveloped in the protective cage of his older brother’s arms, Tim finally dared to fully believe it.