Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“What does formula taste like?” Damian asks.

They’re sitting in Tim’s room while MJ sucks down some milk, her tiny fists pressed against the bottle while she grunts every so often. With her furrowed brows and intense look of concentration, she reminds Tim of Kon during their old Young Justice missions.

“I don’t know,” Tim answers. “But it smells awful.”

“Then why do you feed it to her?”

“Most people who go through a pregnancy, or take hormones, can produce milk for their babies,” he says and gestures to his flat chest. “That’s not an option for me due to my past mastectomy.” Tim hums thoughtfully. “Although, I could look into getting breast milk from others. Some produce too much and give away their excess to those who need it.”

“I see,” Damian says, looking vaguely disturbed. Seeing a typical teenage boy’s expression on his face almost makes Tim laugh.

“Even though formula smells bad, it still has a lot of nutrients for babies,” Tim tells him, tilting the bottle up further to let MJ get the rest of the milk. “And it’s the only thing she can have until she’s about six months old.”

“What about water?”

“By itself? Not yet,” Tim tells him. “She gets all the hydration she needs from her milk.”

“Fascinating,” Damian says, sounding impressed. “What will you give her when she starts eating solids?”

“Little things,” Tim says, humming thoughtfully. “I’ll probably ask Alfred to make a puree of different vegetables and fruits because I don’t want to get it from a store.”

“Why not?”

“Most of them are disgusting. Kon and I made Bart try a few for us when we first talked about it, and he almost threw up a couple of times!” Tim almost laughs when he sees Damian’s bewildered look. “Yes, I know! It must be pretty bad if a speedster felt sick over it.” He glances down to see that the bottle is nearly empty. MJ kicks her feet out as she guzzles the last of her milk. “I’ll probably sit in a hospital parking lot to let her taste it.”

“The parking lot?”

“What if she has an allergic reaction?” Tim replies, feeling a trickle of fear at the thought. He soothes himself by brushing a finger over MJ’s fist. “I know it sounds a little excessive, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“Admirable,” Damian replies, leaning over to push some of MJ’s hair away from her face. She blinks rapidly, and Tim feels a little bad for not realizing it was bugging her. “I can produce a list of food items I think she might enjoy once she reaches that point.”

“That’d be great, Damian,” Tim says, shifting to nudge his side. “Thanks.”

MJ makes a sound around her bottle, which causes milk to spill down her chin and disappear into the few folds on her neck. Tim carefully maneuvers himself to grab a damp wipe off the bedside table and uses it to wipe it off his baby.

“Sorry, MJ,” Tim says when she flinches. “I know they’re cold, but if I don’t clean it this way, you’re going to smell stinky! And we can’t have that!”

“You could bathe her,” Damian suggests.

Tim shakes his head. “Not yet,” he explains, tapping a finger against her clothed tummy. “It’s recommended to wait until the umbilical cord falls off, but I can still give her sponge baths or wipe her down like I just did!” Tim grabs one of his baby’s hands, smiling when she curls her tiny fingers around his thumb. “Which is great for me since I barely have time to bathe myself, and I don’t want to break her routine.”

“Oh,” Damian says, blinking. His curious expression makes him look young, and Tim (sadly) remembers a time when Damian wouldn’t dare to ask questions, even when he was obviously confused. “What will you do with the… umbilical cord once it falls off?”

“Keep it, of course!” Tim answers with a grin, which only grows when Damian wrinkles his nose. “And I’ll do the same with all her baby teeth!”

“Is that a common practice?” Damian asks, frowning. Then, he looks horrified. “Has Father kept our teeth?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Tim admits. “We’ve also broken and lost many teeth over the years, so I wouldn’t put it past him to keep a few while we were getting them repaired or filled. Although, he did meet all of us when we were still losing teeth, so there’s a high chance he does, indeed, have our baby teeth.”

“Am I supposed to feel disturbed or flattered?”

“Probably both.”

Tim hears a faint sucking sound and looks down to see an empty bottle. He carefully slides it out of MJ’s mouth (Damian takes it away, thankfully) and sits her up, supporting her head and neck with one hand and using the other to gently pat her back. She coos and grunts the entire time, until finally—

“Oh,” Damian says, eyes wide. “That was almost as loud as Todd.”

It seems like the large burp took every last bit of energy MJ had because she yawns, mouthing opening wide enough to show her gums. Tim kisses the top of her head before slowly sliding off the chair to go to his bed, pausing by her bassinet.

“Do you want to hold her?” he asks and laughs when Damian scrambles to follow. “Alright, get comfortable before I pass her to you.”

Tim helps Damian hold his daughter, adjusting his arm slightly until she lies there, fully asleep and looking comfortable. He smiles when he spies the soft look on Damian’s face and carefully climbs onto his bed.

“I do have a question,” Damian says, staying still while Tim fixes the blanket around them. “If you are willing to answer.”

“Ask away,” Tim says.

“Are you going to return to Red Robin?”

“Yeah,” Tim says without hesitation. “Eventually! After I recover from childbirth, most likely, and even then, it’ll take a while. Right now, I can’t bear the thought of leaving her, but knowing that many people are willing to watch her helps.”

“How long does it take for you to heal?” Damian asks next, leaning back against the pillows. He seems content to have MJ in his arms, which makes Tim happy.

“It depends,” Tim replies, shrugging. “Everyone’s different! But I won’t get into it.”

“You can, if you’d like. I’m curious.”

“Well…” Tim says, drawing out the word. He shifts a bit, grimacing at the dull pain in the lower half of his body. “I know it probably seems so easy—make a baby, wait nine months, then pop it out—but it’s really not. My hormones were, and still are, out of whack, and I’ve got a wound the size of a dinner plate in my uterus.”

“Oh,” Damian says, looking pale.

“Yup.” Tim reaches over to flick his nose. “Remember that before having a baby with someone.”

“But I don’t…”

“Hm?” Tim says when Damian falls silent. He nudges his brother, lowering his voice when he says, “What’s up?”

Damian stares at him for what feels like a long time before his eyes dart around the room. He looks nervous, which surprises Tim as he’s used to a Damian who’s always so sure of himself. 

“Can I tell you something?” Damian says after a while, voice subdued. “And will you promise not to tell the others?”

“I promise,” Tim says quietly, and nudges him, gesturing to MJ. “I’m great at keeping secrets.”

That draws a smile out of his brother, although it barely lingers. “I don’t think—” Damian pauses, brows furrowed. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “I don’t want to have children, and the thought of making one is revolting.” Here, Damian stops and hesitates, not looking at Tim when he continues, “I also think it’s best if there are no more new al Ghuls in the world. The line will end with me.”

Tim’s heart swells with affection for his little brother, but seeing his anxious demeanor nearly breaks it. “That’s fine, Damian,” he assures.

“You’re not… disappointed?”

“Why would I be?” Tim places a hand on his arm, moving his thumb in slow circles in hopes of soothing him. It seems to work because Damian relaxes beneath his touch, staring at him with relief. “It’s your choice to have children, and it’s completely okay if it never happens. You’re not obligated to do it.” He pauses to ruffle his hair, laughing when Damian grumbles and smacks his hand away. “And how you feel? That’s normal, if you didn’t already know.”

“I did,” Damian says, and smiles. It’s tiny, but there, and that’s all that matters to Tim. “But thank you.”

“Is dating off the table, too?”

Damian looks thoughtful. “It’s not something I think about,” he eventually says. “So, I’m not sure. Many of my peers have tried to date me, but I currently hold no interest in anyone nor do I trust them enough to try. It may change with time, but for now, I’m content with keeping to myself.”

“Okay, good points,” Tim says. “I just wanted to be sure.” Then, he grins slyly. “You know, I always thought you and Jon—”

“He’s my best friend,” Damian says in a rush, cheeks pink—very unlike him, which only makes Tim grin wider. “I don’t want to ruin that.”

Tim chuckles. “I thought the same thing about Kon,” he says, looking down at his sleeping baby. She twitches and sighs but doesn’t wake, not even when Tim brushes a finger over the bridge of her button nose. “It’s difficult for people in our line of work to date, so it’s not for everyone.”

“Right.” A pause. “Although, if I had to marry someone, Jon would be an acceptable choice.

“Fair enough,” Tim replies, finally leaning back against his pillows with a sigh. He imagines all the tension leaving his body and allows himself to close his eyes for a brief period of rest. “Plus, tax benefits.”

It’s quiet for a long time, but Tim doesn’t mind. His brain enjoys the silence, and he even falls into a very light doze…

… that stops when something nudges him.

“Huh?” Tim says, hastily wiping drool off his face. He frowns when he notices how dark the room looks and turns to the window, blinking when he sees it’s no longer sunset. “What?”

“You slept for a couple of hours,” Damian informs him. He’s still holding MJ. “I accidentally bumped into you when I moved her head to my other arm. My apologies.”

“Damn, it didn’t feel like that long,” Tim says, smacking his lips together. He wrinkles his nose over the taste of death in his mouth and rubs a fist into an eye. “God, I can’t wait for Kon to get back. I’ll probably sleep for a whole day while he takes care of MJ.”

“And when will Martha Jane’s father return?” Damian asks, arching a perfect brow. It’s such a Bruce look that it almost makes Tim laugh.

“In a few days,” Tim says, leaning over to kiss MJ’s cheek. She sighs in her sleep, lips twitching like she wants to smile, which makes his heart grow about five more sizes. “They have to discuss some treaties with the planets they helped, and then, Kon will come straight home to us.”

“Great,” Damian grumbles. “Another interloper.”

“Another?” Tim glances at him, bemused. “Who’s the first?”

“Brown, of course.” He sniffs. “Even though she has a home she goes to every night, she still shows up here to eat our food and irritates us with her presence. Although,” Damian says, sounding thoughtful. “She has been hiding out with Cassandra ever since you had your child, so I suppose Martha Jane’s presence is good for an additional thing.”

“Ah…” Tim sighs. “I’ll probably have to talk to her, then.” He shifts and grimaces when his entire body pulsates with pain. “I might wait a few days, though.”

Damian grunts, a sound not unlike the ones Bruce makes, and nudges him again. “Sleep,” he says. “I’ll stay here and watch over you two.”

“I don’t need to be watched over,” Tim complains, but each blink seems to get longer and longer. Eventually, he yawns, mouth stretching wide enough for his jaw to click, and gives in to exhaustion. “But alright, if you insist.”

He scoots closer and slides down the bed until his head meets the pillow, close to Damian’s shoulder. Damian says something else, but Tim registers nothing because sleep comes quickly, and Tim welcomes it with open arms.

★★

In the days that follow, Tim ends up spending more time with Damian since he’s always there whenever Tim needs help with something. However, he still leaves the room whenever Tim has to change one of MJ’s diapers.

“It’s not that bad,” Tim says when Damian slips back inside. MJ looks serene as she lies on the bed in a fresh diaper and bunny-themed footie pajamas. “And she’s going to be using them for two years, at most, so you’ve gotta get used to them.”

Damian sighs. “I suppose I can learn how to change her,” he says, holding up a finger. “Only the simple ones. Not the—”

“No, I get it,” Tim says with a grimace. “Those can get pretty nasty.”

Tim also gets plenty of other visitors as the days pass, all eager to meet his baby. 

Barbara stops by with her father, who offers a multitude of parenting tips (that Tim jots down in his notes app) while Barbara praises his beautiful daughter. Tam and Luke poke their heads in when Tim gives Alfred the okay, bringing flowers and baby clothes as gifts.

“Huh,” Tam says when she peers into the bassinet where MJ slumbers undisturbed. “So, this is why you made the interns switch to decaf.”

Dick practically moves back into the manor, and Tim often wakes up in the mornings to see Dick lying beside him, either deeply asleep or scrolling through his various social media profiles. He always greets Tim with a gentle hug and a kiss on the forehead before shoving food and water at him.

“You’re taking care of the baby,” Dick tells him when Tim one day asks why he’s always there, a gentle smile on his face. They’re sitting in Tim’s room while Damian watches MJ, enjoying a bit of peace. “Well, someone has to take care of you.”

My big brother, Tim thinks fondly, feeling no shame when he throws himself into Dick’s arms to bury his face in Dick’s shoulder and cry. And of course, Dick wraps his arms around Tim, holding Tim together.

“You’re doing such a great job, Timmy,” Dick murmurs, rubbing his back. “We’re all so proud of you, too.”

It reminds Tim of the time when Dick held him in a similar fashion weeks after his father’s death, letting Tim cry it out while being the only steady presence in Tim’s life. Back then, it felt like everything was falling apart around him, so Dick’s presence was a balm for his soul.

“Thanks,” he says quietly afterward, shutting his eyes and tipping his head up when Dick gently dabs a damp cloth against his cheeks. “I guess I needed that.”

“Mhm. I could tell.”

“How?”

“You were getting a little twitchy. It usually happens when you’re stressed.” A finger taps his cheek, and Tim opens his eyes to see Dick watching him with a look of fondness. “I pay attention, Timmy. Here’s another thing I noticed—when you’re frustrated, you tend to clasp your hands together in front of your chin and furrow your brows because you’re deep in thought.” Here, Dick grins. “I call it your supervillain pose.”

“What!” Tim scoffs and lightly shoves his brother, who laughs. “That’s outrageous! I’d never be a supervillain!”

“I dunno, Timmy Tim Tim,” Dick says, tugging Tim against his side. Tim pretends to struggle, but it’s half-hearted at best—he loves all types of Dick’s hugs. “You’d probably turn to the dark side if something happened to one of us. And you’d be great at it, too!”

Tim stops moving and thinks about it. “Huh, yeah,” he says. “Probably. It wouldn’t be hard, either. I mean, I’ve memorized all of Bruce’s account passwords and routing numbers, so it’d be easy for me to wire transfer all of his money to me.”

“… What?”

“He tried to make me do his taxes,” Tim explains, wiggling free and (carefully) flopping across Dick’s lap. He grimaces when his lower body spikes with a dull pain. “It was the worst thing I’ve ever done, so I passed the job off to Jason. He’s really good at it.”

“That’s because Jason does a lot of finances for work to make sure his crew gets paid.”

“Eep!” Tim startles, looking over to see his biggest (in size) brother looming in the doorway. He rests a hand over his racing heart, frowns, and says, “Stop being a creep and get in here!”

“Creep?” Jason clicks his tongue, but still walks into the room, carrying a plate full of— “Maybe I shouldn’t let you have my Belgian waffles if you’re going to lash out at me like that.”

“I’m sorry!” Tim says immediately, clasping his hands together. He fixes his eyes on the fluffy-looking waffles, licking his lips. God, he’s so fucking hungry—Tim hopes his body is making up for all those times it wouldn’t let him eat a thing. “I didn’t mean it! Please, feed me!”

“Alright,” Jason says, sounding amused. He passes over the plate when he nears, and Tim takes it with glee, tearing off a piece and shoving it into his mouth. “Only because you sound a little pathetic.”

“Nuh-uh!” Tim says, mouth full of delicious waffles. “You!”

Jason rolls his eyes, but soon, his face grows softer, eyes creased with concern. “Doing okay?” he asks and looks relieved after Tim nods. “Good. I’m glad.” He points at the plate. “Let me know if you want anything else. Alfred gave me a pass to use his kitchen.”

“Aw, you’re being such a great big brother, Little Wing!” Dick coos, launching himself out of the bed to throw his arms around Jason. Surprisingly, Jason doesn’t shove him off immediately. He handles the hug with minimal grumbling before extracting himself, and Tim watches it all happen while happily eating his waffles.

“Whatever,” Jason says, cheeks pink. He shoves Dick away (Tim moves his plate of waffles away when Dick lands precariously near it) and shuffles closer to Tim to… ruffle his already messy hair. “Damian’s keeping an eye on your little one, and Alfred’s right there with him, so you get all the rest you need, alright?”

“All I’ve done is rest,” Tim complains, only to cower when his big brothers fix similar stern looks upon him. He quickly holds his hands up in surrender before they can both lecture him. “Fine! I’ll rest!” Tim stuffs another piece into his mouth. “Thanks, Jay.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason says, but Tim can tell he’s pleased. “Enjoy it. I’ll be in the garden if you need anything.”

“Why the garden?” Dick asks.

Jason shrugs. “Someone has to take care of Alfred’s flowers while he’s busy with MJ,” he replies. “And gardening helps me calm down.”

“Bruce?” Tim guesses.

“Bruce,” Jason confirms. “Having a new member of the family means he’s more inclined to try and seek me out for some bonding time. I’ll admit, sometimes it’s nice, but I still need my space! And he won’t get near the garden without Alfred’s express permission.”

“Fair enough,” Dick says, extending one foot. He bumps it against Jason’s knee, and Tim ducks his head to hide his amused grin when Jason slaps it without looking. “Enjoy your flowers, Little Wing.”

Tim shares some of his waffles with Dick after Jason leaves, although he does scarf down the rest of it before curling up in bed, feeling deeply satisfied with his meal.

“Jason should be a chef,” he muses when Dick reaches past him to grab the remote—oh, right. They planned to watch some Barbie movies. “I think he’d make a killing if he opened a restaurant. Or a bakery!”

“It’d probably make him less murderous, that’s for sure,” Dick says, finally putting on a movie. He then tugs on Tim’s arm, and Tim follows the movement with minimal complaints. “Let me braid your rat’s nest.”

“My hair isn’t that bad,” Tim mutters, but obliges his brother by sitting up to let him mess with it.

First, Dick carefully combs through it with his fingers, and Tim barely feels any pain when he gently removes the knots. Occasionally, Dick pauses to massage Tim’s scalp, which nearly makes him melt against him, and helps him fall into a light doze.

“So, when’s your boyfriend coming home?” Dick asks after he starts braiding Tim’s hair.

It takes a bit for Tim to register the question, and longer for him to answer.

“Soon, I think,” he answers after pulling himself out of the sleepy atmosphere he wants to drown in, squinting ahead at nothing. “Which sucks because I miss him! Like—it’s nothing new, you know? Especially with the lives we lead, but…” He presses a fist against his chest, sighing. “I feel his absence more now.”

“Aw, Timmy…”

“Does it ever get any better?” Tim asks glumly. “You feel the same with Wally, right?”

“How did you—” Dick sighs, sounding amused when he continues speaking, “Of course you knew.”

“You two are very obvious,” Tim says. “Plus, I’ve been waiting for you two to get together for years now. And I’m not the only one! There’s a betting pool between the Titans. Which you could totally rig for me.”

“What? You don’t need the money!”

“Well, they deserve to lose it for betting on my favorite big brother’s love life,” Tim says, making sure to sound as sweet as possible. He knows he succeeds when he sees Dick’s face soften and tries not to grin in triumph. What a sucker. “Okay, back to what we were discussing.”

“Huh? Oh, right.” Dick releases a thoughtful hum. “It never really gets better,” he says finally. “Like you said, it’s nothing new. Whenever Wally goes out to Central City or on a mission for the Justice League, I always worry he won’t come home. Some part of me fears every knock on my door, thinking it’ll be Barry on the other end, telling me Wally didn’t make it.” Here, Dick pauses, and Tim thinks he can feel the faint tremor in his hands as he continues braiding Tim’s hair. “I already lost him once. I don’t think I can live through it again.”

“Yeah,” Tim says softly, eyes burning with unshed tears. He stares at one of the My Chemical Romance posters on his wall, desperately trying to keep his thoughts away from the worst time in his life. “I understand.”

“You do, don’t you?” Dick says, voice wobbly.

Tim turns, ignoring his unfinished braid and wrapping his arms around his brother. Dick immediately returns the embrace, as always, but it feels like he’s clutching at Tim rather than holding him. Not that Tim minds—he knows, as well as anyone else in this family, how nice it can feel to be seen, and he hopes it helps heal some of that age-old grief in Dick’s heart.

★★

(“I think I could,” Dick says, much, much later after three Barbie movies and a glass of wine shared between the two. He’s staring down at a dozing MJ with such wonder. It makes Tim feel a great amount of affection for his big brother. “I think… Not now, but someday, you know?”

“Yeah,” Tim says, watching them with a smile. He reaches out to press his fingers against the pink tint on Dick’s face—wine makes him flush so easily these days. “You’d be great.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tim smiles when Dick’s face softens further, and he can’t help but add, “Although, knowing your luck, you’d probably have twins.”

Dick snorts. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he says, leaning back. He taps his fingers against his glass, and MJ’s eyes flutter open. She stares up at Tim unseeingly, and Tim sweeps a thumb across the space between her brows, hoping to lull her back to sleep. “Twins don’t sound too bad, though.”

“Speedster twins?” Tim counters. Dick laughs.

“Honestly? Still not bad,” he says, shrugging. Dick leans over to place his glass on the bedside table before flopping across the bed, eyes fixed on MJ once again. “If it’s with the man I love… I don’t mind at all.” He then meets Tim’s gaze, a half-smile on his face. “Right?”

“Right,” Tim says, leaning down to kiss MJ’s button nose. She coos faintly, bumping her tiny fist against Tim’s cheek. “Just don’t try to hide it like me. I think that’ll actually give Bruce a heart attack.”)

★★

Tim waits outside, eyes fixed on the gloomy sky.

Finally, after what feels like hours, Tim sees a spec in the distance. He grins and waves frantically when he recognizes Kon’s figure, feeling giddy at the sight of him after spending too many days apart.

“Hey,” Tim says when Kon lands in front of him, now smiling at his boyfriend. “Welcome ho—mph! ”

Kon is kissing him.

It’s not a surprise since they kiss all the time—any moment they can get their hands on each other, really. Because of this, their friends put a lifetime ban on them making out in communal spaces and even invested in spray bottles to spritz them with a mixture of water and soap to make them stop.

But maybe not seeing each other for a couple of weeks had more of an effect on Kon than anticipated.

One of his hands presses against Tim’s lower back as he deepens the kiss, sometimes pulling away when Tim starts getting used to it to nip and bite Tim’s bottom lip or jaw before continuing. Tim, at least, manages to get his fingers tangled in Kon’s hair to kiss back, but most of his focus is on Kon’s lips, Kon’s tongue, Kon’s body pressed against his— Kon, Kon, Kon, Kon.

“This is so unfair,” Tim says, panting, when Kon gives his neck some attention. Unfortunately (for others, but very fortunate for Tim), he loves leaving marks. Kon claims it’s some weird Kryptonian instinct. Tim thinks he enjoys making a claim on Tim so no one else can hit on him. “You’re making me feel all these things, and we can’t even do anything.”

“I missed you,” Kon says, finally lifting his head. He looks tired, and Tim cups his face, rubbing his thumbs over the bags under Kon’s eyes. “And I missed MJ, too. Couldn’t stop thinking about you two while I was out there.”

“But you’re home now,” Tim says gently, brushing their noses together. “That’s what matters.”

And he leans in to give Kon a much sweeter kiss, enjoying how Kon sighs and melts against him.

“Come on,” Tim says after a while, forcing himself away before he does something stupid like jump Kon’s bones while healing. Plus, it wouldn’t do to have two under two. “Let’s go see MJ. She should be waking up from her nap right about now.” He pauses and adds, “If someone hasn’t already kidnapped her when I wasn’t around.”

Kon chuckles, grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers together. “Sounds like a plan.”

★★

(“I love you,” Kon whispers later that night, brushing their lips together. Tim clutches his shirt tightly— wanting. “You know that, right? I love you so much, Tim.”

They’re standing outside, waiting for someone to collect them for dinner. MJ is probably getting passed around from person to person, or maybe Bruce finally managed to claim her for the night, and there’s a gentle breeze tousling Kon’s hair, causing some strands to get in his face. 

Tim brushes them away, cupping Kon’s face afterward and kissing him more firmly, nearly kicking up a foot like Mia from The Princess Diaries. “I love you too,” he whispers back, feeling like his heart might leap out of his chest. Kon hums a little tune, and they sway to the beat of it, reminding Tim of the last time they did this at Titans Tower—both of them tipsy and alone, wanting a moment to exist together. “So much, Kon. So fucking much.”

Another kiss—much deeper and more passionate, taking Tim’s breath away.

“Stay with me,” Kon says, thumb brushing over Tim’s hip bone. He shivers. “Don’t leave my side.”

“Never,” Tim promises, and kisses him again.)

★★

After a couple of days of family bonding, Tim leads Kon down to the Cave with a bundled-up MJ in his arms (it gets cold down there).

They exit the elevator, and Tim’s not surprised to see the rest of his family scattered around the Cave. Leslie stands near the medbay with Alfred, arms crossed as she discusses something with Bruce and Jason—probably every detail about the vaccines MJ will receive.

“Hi, Dr. Thompson,” Tim says when he walks over, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek. She smiles at him, eyes flicking down to his baby when he tilts MJ toward her. “Here’s your patient! She’s a little sleepy, so it might take a moment for her to be ready.”

“That’s quite alright,” Leslie says, placing a hand on his shoulder. “How are you feeling? Any pain or bleeding?”

“Alright,” Jason says loudly, tossing his arms up. “I don’t need to hear this!”

“No one asked you to be here,” Kon snarks, although he does wilt when Tim looks over to glare at him. “Sorry. I’ll be good.”

“You better,” Tim scolds before refocusing on the doctor. “Yes, I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong, and I swear I haven’t done anything strenuous. Do I have to put her down for this or can I keep holding her?”

“You can hold her,” Leslie answers, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. They snap against her skin, making more than one person flinch. “All you need to do is make sure she doesn’t move as much, and soothe her when she cries.”

“She’s going to cry?” Dick questions, sounding devastated.

“MJ’s getting a shot,” Kon deadpans, but Tim can hear the waver in his voice, and he leans over to lightly kiss his jaw in an attempt to soothe him. “Of course she’s going to cry.”

Tim carries her over to one of the chairs, fixing the blanket so her arm is exposed. Her whole body wobbles, head swaying from left to right as everyone leans closer to stare at her. Kon makes them all back off with a hissed warning, and Tim smiles at him, hoping it conveys his gratitude. 

“Will it hurt?” Damian asks when Leslie walks over with her supplies.

“Yes,” Tim tells him, grimacing at the thought. “The same way it hurts for the rest of us, I guess. She might have a more intense reaction since she’s never had a shot before.”

MJ flinches when Leslie cleans her arm with a sanitizing wipe, and Tim kisses her head, holding onto one tiny foot and sweeping his thumb across the bottom. She makes sweet little baby noises, unaware of Leslie approaching with a needle that looks way too big. Tim’s heart breaks when she gasps at the initial poke, and he feels wracked with guilt when she scrunches up her face and starts to bawl.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” Tim coos, feeling a little emotional himself. He glances at Kon, not surprised to see his boyfriend sniffling, too. “You’ve only got two more left, and then you’re free.”

“Two more?” Bruce croaks. Tim looks at his dad and blinks when he spies the tears rolling down the man’s cheeks. His expression slowly shifts to one of despair. “We have to watch this two more times?”

The rest of his family seems to be in a similar state. Dick openly sobs into his hands while Cass comforts him, silently crying. Jason blows his nose off to the side, Alfred dabs at his eyes with a handkerchief, and Damian looks gutted, tears clinging to his lashes, which is more shocking than any other reaction he sees.

“Do you want to hold her hand?” Tim asks while looking at his little brother, who startles and briefly turns away. When he faces Tim again, his eyes are red-rimmed and barely wet. “I think she’d like to have another person comforting her.”

“Agreed,” Damian says, voice containing only a hint of a tremor. Kon actually hops out of his chair and silently offers it to Damian, and Damian doesn’t even make a snide remark to Tim’s boyfriend as he usually does.

He takes one of MJ’s tiny hands, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. Tim smiles when MJ relaxes at the gentle touch, her cries softening. She even grips Damian’s index finger tightly, shaking it around when she attempts to flail her pain-free arm.

All of her attention seems focused on Damian, and although she still gasps out a sob, she doesn’t seem as bothered as before. Of course, more tears spill out when Leslie delivers the next shot, but she’s not quite as loud, and they quickly disappear when Damian whispers something to her, poking the back of her hand.

Tim adjusts his grip on her when Leslie points at another area for her vaccine, letting her sanitize it before she moves in with the final vaccine. He tenses, eyes flicking between the needle and MJ’s face, and it feels like everyone is holding their breath when Leslie finally delivers the vaccine.

MJ flinches at the initial prick of the needle but seems too distracted by Damian to even register the pain. After Leslie removes it, MJ grabs and squeezes Damian’s finger before eloquently exclaiming, “AH!”

“That’s right,” Damian says softly. “See? All done. You are free from the horrors.”

“I don’t think any of us are ever free from those,” Jason comments. He’s turned away from them, but Tim can see his shoulders shaking.

“Now, your baby may experience some redness or swelling around the area, and she may even have a mild fever,” Leslie explains as she peels off her latex gloves. “It’s completely normal and you can reduce these symptoms with many different methods—I’ll have Alfred send you a list. If it becomes a serious issue, go to the hospital.”

“Got it,” Tim says with a nod. He passes MJ off to Damian, who accepts her into his arms without hesitation, and follows Leslie out of the medbay. “So, same procedure for the next set of vaccines? In two months, right?”

“Yes, and yes,” Leslie says, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “Should we start scheduling these appointments ahead of time? I know you’ll be busy once you go back to work.” She eyes him with carefully constructed judgment—which makes sense, considering she’s been looking after them since Bruce started his crusade for justice. “Both day and night.”

“I’m cutting back on it,” Tim tells her, pulling up his own calendar to compare dates. “The company is okay with me working from home since I already do a majority of my work there anyways, and Gotham won’t need me every night, not when it has all the other vigilantes to step in.”

“Good point,” Leslie says, tucking her phone away after they confirm all the dates. She raises a hand and pats his cheek, and Tim smiles, bemused. “Take care of yourself. My phone is always on if you have any questions.”

The Cave is practically empty when Tim returns to his daughter. She’s swaddled in a new blanket, a yellow beanie atop her head, and she’s in Cass’ arms now, eyes closed and looking peaceful. Damian and Kon sit beside her on opposite sides, both sporting similar petulant looks.

“You’re not going to give me my baby back, huh?” Tim asks, not surprised when Cass shakes her head. “Alright, that’s fine. Are we staying down here?” She nods. “Cool. Kon or Damian, can one or both of you bring some snacks down from the manor?”

“I’ll do it,” Kon says as he hops out of his seat.

“I’ll do it better,” Damian says quickly, sliding out with more grace. He glares at Kon before turning up his nose. “And I’ll bring something far more suitable and delicious than whatever Kent will even think to bring.” A pause. “If he even thinks at all.”

“No fighting!” Tim snaps when Kon opens his mouth. He holds a stern finger toward his boyfriend, then his little brother, and watches them both deflate. “Go! And be nice to each other! Or I’ll withhold MJ cuddles!”

Kon gasps, while Damian looks dismayed. Thankfully, they leave without any additional squabble or complaint and Tim takes one of their emptied chairs, looking up to see Cass staring at him intently.

“What’s up?” he asks, nudging her with a foot.

“Thinking,” she replies, brushing her knuckles down MJ’s cheek. The baby twitches but doesn’t stir. “You should talk to Steph?”

“Yeah, I know,” Tim says as he watches his daughter. Her eyelids flutter every so often, and he wonders what she could possibly be dreaming about. “And while I understand it’s important, I’m also still recovering from childbirth and the general exhaustion that comes with taking care of a baby, so I appreciate the reminder, but it’s going to happen when I won’t feel as anxious about staying away from my baby, okay?”

Cass blinks at him before wilting slightly. “Yes, okay,” she says, ducking her head. “Sorry.”

Tim sighs. “Hey, it’s fine,” he says, placing a hand on her arm. “I’m glad she has you to confide in, and I understand how hard this must be for her, but I can’t drop everything to sit down and talk to her right now.” Tim looks at his swaddled baby, smiling. “Miss MJ takes priority.”

★★

He finally gets his chance to talk to Steph days later, when he’s stuck at the top of the stairs, wondering if he should throw himself down to avoid the sharp spike of pain that occurs whenever he moves.

“Having trouble?”

Tim turns to see Steph leaning against the wall, arms crossed and a teasing smile on her face. “You could say that,” Tim replies, holding onto the rail to keep himself upright when his knees shake. God, he misses standing for a long time without feeling exhausted. “I’m debating if tea is actually worth the painful trip.”

“Want some help?” Steph says, holding out her arms and waggling her brows. “I know I’m not as strong as your super awesome boyfriend, but I think I can manage to carry you down without causing both of us to fall.” The look on her face softens. “You did the same for me, remember?”

“I do,” Tim says quietly, reaching out to take her hand. “Thank you, Steph.”

He barely jostles in her arms as she carries him down the stairs, and even though it’s a little embarrassing to be in such a position, Tim feels grateful by the end of it. Steph even carries him into the kitchen and deposits him on one of the stools by the island before grabbing the necessary tea supplies.

“I can make it,” Tim grumbles, only to rear back in shock when Steph shushes him.

“So can I,” she retorts, filling the kettle with water from the fridge and setting it on the stove. Tim watches as she opens a cabinet to grab two mugs—Tim’s favorite Nightwing one and her handmade Spoiler-themed cup. “Sit back and let me do the work, okay? You shouldn’t be moving around so much anyways.”

“Alright,” Tim says, only because the pain is barely starting to dull after his fresh round of painkillers.

Steph works in silence as she makes them tea, and Tim allows himself a few minutes of rest by dropping his head onto his arms and shutting his eyes. Sleep seems so scarce these days—if it’s not MJ waking him up, then it’s the pain in his body or the discomfort of being unable to sleep on his stomach just yet.

Steph’s voice draws him out of his light doze.

“Here you go!” she says, setting the Nightwing mug down in front of him. Tim rubs his face when he sits up, yawning, and grabs it, bringing it up to his nose to deeply sniff his tea, humming over the soothing smell. “And I’ve also got some sugar and honey for you.”

“Thanks,” Tim whispers, accepting the spoon she holds out. He dumps two spoonfuls of sugar before stirring the drink, catching the way Steph eyes him curiously. “What’s up?”

“Was it terrible?” Steph asks.

“Hm?”

“Your pregnancy. How was it?”

“Not as bad as yours.”

Steph looks shocked. “Really?” she says before narrowing her eyes. “Are you pulling my leg? You can talk about it, you know. I don’t mind.”

Tim chuckles. “Alright, fine,” he says, taking out his spoon and gently tapping it against the rim. “It was pretty bad, mostly because my body was changing in ways I never expected. Honestly, it was mentally taxing.” Tim looks into his cup with a smile. “But Kon was there for me—talked me through it even after I knew I wanted the baby.”

“Oh!” Steph’s cheeks turn pink. “Sorry, I didn’t even consider all that.”

“It’s fine,” Tim says, waving her off. He takes a sip of his tea, humming over the taste. God, he missed his caffeinated teas. “Other than that… I had a lot more morning sickness than I ever thought possible, and I had so many weird cravings, too!” Tim huffs, shaking his head. “I remember crying because I wanted to eat rocks, and then getting mad when Kon wouldn’t let me have any. It was ridiculous.”

“Ha!” Steph grins, leaning forward. “That’s almost as bad as me wanting some of that Fabuloso! Remember? I just about cried myself to sleep when my mom said no!”

Tim laughs. “I do remember!” he crows, tapping his foot against the chair. “I felt really awkward when you two were arguing, and I was honestly trying to think of a way I could make something that smelled like it to trick your brain into thinking you drank some.”

“Aw, that’s sweet of you,” Steph replies, smiling faintly. It slowly fades as she stirs her drink with the spoon, eyes distant. Tim can guess what she’s going to say when she opens her mouth to speak, “Did you ever consider—”

“—giving her up?” Tim finishes, smiling when she nods, no longer looking at him. He considers the question, turning the warm cup between his hands, and sighs. “Honestly, no,” he says, drumming his fingers against the ceramic. “From the moment I found out I was pregnant, I knew I wanted to keep her.”

“Even with the danger that comes from our lives?” Steph presses.

“Yes, even then.” Tim lifts his mug to sip his tea, savoring the taste of honey. “I understand there’s more of a danger, what with me being a vigilante and a Wayne, and Kon being a Super and, unfortunately, part Luthor, but…” He shrugs. “I can’t put my life on hold just because I might be in danger. Besides, if something does happen, we have so many people to protect her, and they’re all willing to raise her if Kon and I are out of the picture.”

“Oh.” Steph lowers her head. “Am I terrible, then?” she asks, very subdued. “I didn’t even try —”

“Your reasons were valid, Steph,” Tim says softly, leaning over to brush some hair away from her face. She sniffles, so Tim takes the time to thumb away some tears as well. “Especially when you were actively in danger and didn’t have the support you do now.” He cups her cheek, waiting for Steph to look at him. “You made that choice out of love. Not many can do the same.”

“Sometimes, I think about going out to find her,” Steph admits, looking slightly ashamed. “Because I want to know if she’s safe and loved… but a part of me imagines a world where I can sit her down and explain who I am, and she’ll want to come home with me because she’s so unhappy with her life.” She sighs, shutting her eyes. “It’s a horrible thought, I know.”

“Probably,” Tim says, placing a hand on hers. “But there’s nothing wrong with it, Steph. It just means you’re human.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tim smiles. “And this is coming from the person who has seen the best and worst parts of you.”

Steph snorts. “You have, huh?” she says, sounding fond. “Too bad I’ve yet to see anything good from you.”

“Uncalled for!”

She laughs, and when Tim glances at her face, he sees that most of the pain and sorrow have disappeared. Eventually, it tapers off into little giggles, her smile lingering.

Still, he doesn’t remove his hand, sweeping his thumb across her scarred knuckles. Two fingers are wrapped, and when Tim shoots her a questioning look, Steph’s expression shifts to one of sheepishness.

“Fucked up a punch,” she answers. “Cass took down the rest for me, but I won’t be doing much with it for about a week or two.” Steph shrugs. “What can you do?” She holds up a hand when Tim opens his mouth to respond, but he doesn’t feel offended by the gesture. “Thanks, also. I know we’ve had our rough patches, so I’m glad you let me have the time I needed to… deal with my problems, I guess.”

“I know how hard it must be to look at us,” Tim says quietly.

“It just makes me want, you know?” she says. “But I’m about as ready to have a child as I was back then. It’s not the right time or place, and I haven’t even found the right person.” Steph sighs, looking forlorn. “Maybe someday, but even then, I think I’ll feel guilty because I already had one—and I gave her up.” She shakes her head. “But it’s fine. I’ll deal with it in my own time and properly meet her.”

“We’ll be waiting,” Tim says, nudging her with a smile. She tentatively returns it, which Tim counts as a win. “There’s always room for Aunt Stephie.”

“Aunt Stephie, huh?” Her smile widens. “I think I could live with that.” She then stares at Tim intently before leaning forward, and Tim shuts his eyes when she presses their foreheads together—a brief, affectionate touch. “I’m really happy for you, Tim. You’re going to be the best parent.”

“Thank you,” Tim says quietly, eyes watering. He quickly pecks her cheek before she can retreat, grabbing her hand once more and squeezing. “I love you, you know?”

“I know,” Steph says with a tender expression. “And I love you too, Boy Wonder.”

★★

The first of all his friends to visit him (and his baby) is one Bartholomew Henry Allen the Second.

He phases through the wall the day he arrives, but after Alfred clears his throat pointedly, Bart goes back outside and knocks on the door like a normal person, and Tim welcomes him into the living room with a grin.

“Shut up, Tim,” Bart complains as he throws himself down into an armchair, hair as poofy as ever.

“I didn’t even say anything,” Tim replies. 

“Uh-huh. Sure. Where’s Kon?”

“Doing superhero stuff. Trust me, he wanted to be with us, and he even complained all of last night and this morning about not being here for your magical moment.” Tim tilts his daughter toward Bart. “Are you ready to meet Martha Jane?”

“Am I ever!” Bart fixes himself so he’s sitting cross-legged on the chair, arms out and palms up, looking as eager as he did when Tim first told him about the pregnancy. “Please, pass over my goddaughter.”

“I haven’t made my choices yet,” Tim reminds him, carefully sliding MJ into his arms. One of her arms jerks up, and she wiggles as Bart adjusts his grip on her, but otherwise, she seems completely fine with her new position. “You might have to fight Dick for the title.” He pauses, thinking. “Or Damian.”

“Why are you talking about me?” Damian says as he enters the room, his school bag over his shoulder—right, his break ended. He stops beside the couch, eyeing Bart with something akin to disdain. “Timothy, why is he holding my niece?”

“Because he’s my best friend,” Tim gently counters, patting the space beside him. Damian sighs, dumping his backpack on the seat before leaving the room. “You don’t have to look so worried, Damian!” Tim calls after him. “He won’t hurt her!”

“Yeah!” Bart crows, now lifting Tim’s baby so they’re facing each other. He squishes their cheeks together, grinning sunnily. “See, she loves me?”

Unfortunately, the minimal jostling he did seems to have upset MJ’s stomach, because Tim watches in dismay as she hiccups and spits up all over his face and chin. Thankfully, Bart releases her when he leans over to take his daughter from his arms.

“I’m so sorry,” Tim says, wiping her mouth with her pink burp cloth. She fusses the entire time, lips turned down in displeasure. “MJ’s sorry too.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Bart says, waving a hand. He picks up one of the other burp cloths lying around (a green one with tiny poodles all over the fabric) and cleans off the mess with only a wrinkle of his nose. “It’s my fault—but, hey! It’s proof that she does love me!”

“Doubtful,” Damian says when he returns to the room, carrying a tray of porcelain cups. Tim sniffs the air, perking up when he smells tea and honey. “Perhaps she hates you and expressed herself the only way she knew how.”

“No way!” Bart cries. “I’m her favorite Uncle!”

Damian scoffs. “As if,” he retorts, setting a cup in front of Tim and pouring tea into it. Damian also adds a cube of sugar and a dollop of honey (Tim’s preferred amount) before swiftly taking MJ from him and cradling her against his chest. She settles with ease, eyes going lax while her small tongue sticks out of her mouth. Cute. “She does have a favorite, but it’s not a speedster who would run off with her the moment Timothy turns his back.”

“I would never!” Bart says, sounding appalled.

Tim glances at Bart, arching a brow.

Bart wilts. “Okay, maybe I thought about it,” he grumbles, crossing his arms and looking away. “But only after she turns one because then I’d convince her to join me in my mission of chaos and general mayhem!”

“Right,” Damian says. He doesn’t look pleased. “Let it be known that I know where our Father hides his freeze way, and I won’t hesitate to use it should you attempt to turn her into a miscreant like yourself.”

“Right, okay.” Bart suddenly appears right beside Tim. He barely twitches, even when Bart leans over to whisper, “Your brother scares me.”

“Good,” Damian says shortly. MJ coos contentedly in his arms, and Tim leans back to relax, knowing his baby is safe (and from the sound of it, very happy). “I’m watching you, Allen.”

“Right…” Bart says slowly, and says to Tim, “I’m surprised he remembered my last name.”

“Me too,” Tim replies, watching the two. After a few more loops around the room, Damian returns to Tim’s side and sits beside him, MJ now sleeping contentedly in his arms.

“She’s such a good baby!” Bart says, beaming so brightly that Tim fears he may need sunglasses. “And she’s so cute, too! You did a great job, Robby!”

“Thanks,” Tim says, genuinely touched. He brushes his fingers over one of her soft, plush cheeks, smiling when her nose wrinkles at the action. “Honestly, I probably couldn’t have done a better job with my cloning equipment. She’s… perfect.”

“… Cloning equipment?” Damian says slowly—the same tone of voice Dick uses when he’s concerned about something but trying not to set him off.

“Oh, right,” Tim says, waving a hand. “You weren’t there.” He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I feel more concerned than worried, Timothy.”

“It’s nothing!” Tim insists and sighs when Damian shoots him a flat look. “Alright, but listen—it was a bad year for me! I missed Kon so much and thought I could try to clone him, but none of my attempts worked, so now I have cloning equipment lying around in a secret location.”

Damian blinks at him before releasing a very familiar, “Hn.”

“I could probably do it for our next kid,” Tim muses. “And involve Kon in the process.”

“Don’t,” Bart says, wrinkling his nose. He’s now eating a salad covered in croutons—Tim didn’t even see him leave to get it. “I’ve spent so much time trying to drown out the sounds of you ‘involving’ Kon in things.”

“Shut up!” Tim hisses.

“Agreed,” Damian says, looking disgusted.

Bart rolls his eyes, shoving a bunch of croutons into his mouth. “You know,” he says as he chews, although he does cover his mouth when Tim glares at him. “When you make your clone baby, you could name it after me!”

“I’m not adding another Bartholomew Henry to the world,” Tim replies.

“Aw! No fair!”

“Make your own babies.”

“Ew!”

“I meant with my cloning equipment!”

Bart sighs, finishing the rest of his salad in record time (probably a new one—Tim will have to check their archive later), and sets the bowl on the coffee table before flopping across the armchair. “That’s too much work!” he complains.

“So are babies!” Tim retorts, gesturing to his lovely daughter.

Damian frowns. “Is this what you two do all day?” he asks incredulously.

“Yes!” Tim and Bart exclaim.

Thankfully, it doesn’t wake MJ. Tim hopes it’s because she’s getting used to the sudden loud noises that come with a house full of vigilantes.

“I see…” Damian mutters, still looking bewildered.

Tim leans over to poke Damian’s cheek. “You sound like Bruce,” he says, laughing when Damian’s expression instantly changes to a scowl.

“That is the worst thing you have ever said to me, Timothy,” Damian says.

“Heh,” Bart says. “Timothy.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “Okay, Bartholomew,” he says, throwing a pillow at his friend.

It misses, but Bart still lifts his head to glare. “Hey!” he says, pouting. “That was mean!”

“You started it.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to end it!”

Bart stays for another hour, chatting with Tim about current team dynamics, upcoming missions, and more, before getting called away by Wally West. He complains about it, but Tim knows he’ll tackle and hug Wally into a building the moment he’s near the man. At this point, his supposed dislike for the man is just for show.

“Good job handling MJ’s spit-up,” Tim says as he ruffles Damian’s hair. Damian swats his wrist. “Jason still gags whenever he sees it happen, but I think it’s probably due to his aversion to milk.”

“She’s an infant,” Damian says quietly. “She can’t help herself.”

Tim smiles, feeling a grand swell of pride as he gazes at his brother. “You’re a great Uncle,” he comments, nudging Damian’s side when he catches a hint of the teen’s smile.

“Yes,” Damian says, nodding. “Some might even say that I’m the best.”

“And so humble, too…”

“What you said earlier,” Damian says abruptly, not looking at Tim. “About having more children… Did you mean it?”

“It’s definitely something I’ve thought about,” Tim replies, lightly tapping his finger against MJ’s stomach. She wiggles around but doesn’t seem to mind the touch. “And I’ve talked about it with Kon, too. I think once we’re more settled with this little lady and reach a much more stable point in our lives, we’ll start discussing it more seriously.” He hums, grabbing one of her tiny hands. “Maybe after we get married.”

Damian scoffs.

“You can be my ring bearer,” Tim says, grinning when Damian rolls his eyes.

“Pass.”

“And walk down the aisle with MJ since she’ll be my flower girl.”

“… I’ll consider it.” A pause. “Jon wants to meet her. He constantly floods my phone with pleas for photos and tries to hint at receiving an invite from me.”

“I figured.” Tim sighs. “You can tell him that we plan on making a trip out to Smallville now that she has her vaccinations since Ma and Pa Kent want to meet her.” He glances at his brother, thoughtful. “You could join us when we finally make time to go.”

Damian looks blank for a moment. Then, a slow, boyishly sweet smile stretches across his face. Tim only gets to see a glimpse of it before Damian ducks his head, busying himself with smoothing out a wrinkle on MJ’s onesie. “I think I’d like that,” he says softly.

Tim drags him into a side hug, MJ cooing while she practically gnaws on her clothed fist. “Sounds like a plan,” he says, and he’s glad Damian doesn’t pull away when Tim kisses the side of his head.

★★

MJ grows so much during the next two months, and she still has everyone wrapped around her teeny, tiny finger.

Damian spends the most time with her. Even when she’s asleep, he’ll trail into Tim’s room with his laptop or books to quietly do his homework. He also wakes up earlier to sit beside Tim when MJ’s having a morning feeding, watching her with fascination in his eyes.

Tim starts going on little walks around the manor’s yard, and Damian joins him after he returns from school, Titus at his side. The Great Dane will sometimes sniff at MJ’s feet and whine, his butt wiggling out of excitement, but Damian always redirects his attention, and Tim once heard Damian scold Titus over it.

(“You’re much too big,” he had said, shaking a finger in the dog’s face. “And she’s far too small. You will wait until she is an appropriate size for play, and even then, you must be gentle with her.”)

It’s… nice. Really nice, especially since their new closeness now gives Tim the ability to annoy the hell out of his brother.

In the past, it probably would have gotten him a knife to the eye or Damian’s katana through his gut, but now, Damian merely shoots him an annoyed look or scoffs, returning to his task without any snide remarks.

Currently, Tim’s in the car with Alfred in the driver’s seat, watching a bunch of gangly teens run past their spot in the pick-up lane. MJ coos very faintly in the backseat, and when Tim glances at the mirror attached to her car seat, he sees the girl chewing on her clothed fist, getting drool all over her baby glove. She’s also missing a sock.

Tim tries not to smile too much when he garners a few strange looks after he steps out of the car. He pays the teens milling about no mind as he leans against the car, waiting for his little brother to come out of the building.

Finally, after what feels like forever, Damian walks out alone, his backpack hanging off his shoulder. He lifts his head when Tim whistles, his pace picking up speed after Tim waves him over.

“Timothy?” Damian says, looking and sounding shocked. “What are you doing here?”

“Picking you up from school,” Tim says brightly, ignoring all the stares and whispers around them. He leans back into the car to unbuckle his daughter, carefully pulling her out and noting how Damian lights up at the sight of her. “I thought you might like to get some ice cream nearby.”

“Yes, that sounds lovely,” Damian replies, eyes now fixed on his niece. “May I hold her?”

MJ babbles wordlessly, stretching a hand in his direction. She’s also starting to wiggle impatiently in his arms, so Tim hands her to his little brother before she starts shrieking, almost laughing when she releases what sounds like a content sigh. “I think she missed you,” he jokes, taking Damian’s bag and placing it in the car.

“Martha Jane, there is no reason to miss me,” Damian intones as he starts walking toward the ice cream shop down the street. Tim peeks into the car to wave at Alfred before following, catching up right as Damian says, “… Although, I will admit, I have missed you as well. My days have no meaning without you there.” A pause, and then Damian speaks in a lower voice, clearly not realizing Tim is behind him, “Perhaps I shall sneak you to school with me soon, that way, we are never apart from one another.”

“Maybe during Spirit Week,” Tim cuts in, almost laughing when Damian visibly startles. He wraps an arm around his brother, glad the teen doesn’t shake him off (while also wondering when the hell Damian reached Tim’s height). “Come on, kid. I’ll let you get two scoops.”

A bell jingles above his head when he opens the door to the ice cream shop. Tim waits for Damian to walk past him before entering, smiling at the cashier when she greets them cheerfully. Soon, they get their cups of ice cream (lemon sorbet for Damian, strawberry for Tim) and claim a booth in a secluded corner, and Damian sits there with MJ half on his lap, her head resting in the crook of his elbow.

“While I do enjoy a visit from my niece,” Damian says as MJ flails her arms in a desperate attempt to grab Damian’s hair. Luckily, it’s too short for her to reach, which means Tim will have to deal with a lot of hair pulling later. “And you, but I do have to ask—why are you here? Is something wrong?”

“Everything’s fine and no one’s hurt,” Tim says, holding up a hand. “I promise.” He lowers it, drumming his fingers along the table. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“I’m moving out of the manor soon,” Tim tells him, feeling a pang in his chest when Damian’s face falls. “My Nest has everything I need, and it’s just as safe.”

“Oh,” Damian says, looking down. “Right. Of course. That makes sense.”

Tim reaches out to grab one of Damian’s hands, smiling and hoping it’s reassuring enough. “Hey, it’s alright,” he says. “I’ll still come over for Friday night dinners and Sunday brunches, and you’re welcome to come over any time you like.”

“Why can’t you stay?” Damian asks, a bit subdued.

“We need our own space,” Tim gently explains. “Kon and I do, at the very least, but we always planned to continue living together after I had the baby. That’s not something we can do if I keep staying at the manor.”

Damian says nothing.

“I wanted to tell you first before I break the news to the rest of the family,” Tim adds, sliding out of his side of the booth to sit beside Damian. The teen still doesn’t look his way, methodically eating his ice cream and dodging MJ’s grabby hands. He nudges Damian, softly saying, “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I don’t want you two to leave,” Damian admits after a beat, looking ashamed.

Oh, Tim thinks, wrapping his arms around his brother and daughter. Damian stiffens but doesn’t move, which only breaks Tim’s heart further. Oh, Damian…

“I know,” he says after pulling away. Tim tips Damian’s chin up, sorrowful over the glimpse of tears in his little brother’s eyes. “But you can visit us any time you want, Damian. I’ll give you a copy of my apartment key. Hell, I’ll even give you a room!” He offers a smile, feeling relieved when Damian tentatively returns it. “Just because we’re moving out doesn’t mean we’re ending our relationship. All this progress we made? It’ll still be there no matter what happens.”

“Promise?” Damian whispers.

“Promise,” Tim replies, and when he tugs Damian into his arms again, Damian goes with ease, and he even rests his head on Tim’s shoulder. “I really enjoyed bonding with you over the past couple of months,” he says, resting his chin on Damian’s head. “I’m glad you’re my brother.”

Damian says nothing for some time, but when he does speak, his voice comes out soft, almost too quiet to be heard, “I feel the same way.”

“Good,” Tim says, pretending the small crack in his voice isn’t because he’s super emotional over Damian accepting him as a brother. Nope. It’s just postpartum hormones.

They go back to eating their ice cream, and MJ turns her head to gum on Damian’s school jacket. He doesn’t seem to mind, nor does he make any complaints, but his expression does seem a little disgruntled when the damp spot only grows larger and larger. 

(Tim laughs, and Damian flicks ice cream at him.)

“You’d truly give me a room?” Damian asks after a while.

“Yup!” Tim answers. “And you can paint it whatever color you want.”

“I might consider turning the walls into my personal canvas,” Damian says thoughtfully. “I’ve always wanted to do it in my art room, but I fear Pennyworth will not approve.”

“You’re probably right,” Tim says with a chuckle, ruffling Damian’s hair. The boy swats at his hand, but it’s half-hearted at best. “If that’s what you want to do, then it’s totally fine with me. I’ll even buy you the paint!” He picks up his ice cream cup and brings it up to his mouth, slurping up some of the melted goodness. “Rapunzel it up, little brother!”

“… Who?”

“Oh my god.” Tim slams the cup down, startling both Damian and MJ. His baby smiles faintly, even though he knows she doesn’t know what’s going on, while Damian scowls. “I know what we’re watching tonight!”

★★

(“Why am I crying!?” Damian demands, voice wobbling.

“Because,” Tim sobs into his hands. “She was his new dream! And he was hers!”

“GAH!” MJ shrieks, probably because they’re so loud.

“I know, baby, I know,” Tim says, leaning down to kiss her cheek. She immediately grabs a huge chunk of his hair, and he pretends the fresh wave of tears in his eyes isn’t from the pain. He refocuses on the movie to watch Rapunzel’s magic tear save Eugene, giving Damian the privacy he needs to cry. “Mama’s just emotional over a good movie.”

She tugs on his hair before mercifully releasing him. Then, MJ tips her head back, and Tim sees her cute, gummy smile as she sets her eyes on Damian. “AH BAH!”

“Yes, yes,” Damian says, taking her from Tim’s arms with practiced ease, gaze mostly fixed on the screen. “ Ahbak to you too, Martha Jane.”

“That’s not what she said,” Tim points out, amused. “She can’t even speak, Damian.”

“But I knew what she meant,” Damian says, daring (!) to shush Tim. “Silence. I need to see what happens next.”)

★★

The transition from living at the manor to his apartment is easier than anticipated, and MJ barely fusses when they set up her bassinet in the master bedroom.

Unpacking takes much longer, and Tim can’t even help as much as he wants because he’s still healing from giving birth. He tries, but Kon just about straps him down to the bed for daring to lift a box.

“You’re not going to tear your stitches!” Kon scolds. Scolds! Like Tim’s some unrepentant kid! “Not under my watch! Now, stay down and take a nap! Or else!”

“Or else what?” Tim asks with trepidation.

Kon narrows his eyes before storming over to where MJ lies peacefully, picking her up (gently) and cradling her in his arms. She flails at the movement but otherwise seems content to stay. “Or no MJ cuddles for you!” he announces, and Tim gasps in dismay. “Yeah, that’s right! I’m not above withholding baby cuddles from you!”

“You’re evil!” Tim says petulantly before curling up on his side. “Fine! I’ll nap!”

“Good,” Kon says, moving closer. He leans down to kiss Tim’s cheek, and Tim smiles. “Sleep well, snookums.”

And just like that, the good feelings fade away. “No,” Tim says firmly, turning over to put his back to his boyfriend. “Just call me babe and be done with it!”

At two (going on three) months old, MJ still needs constant surveillance and support. She’s wiggling around more often when Tim lays her down for her naps, and he fears she may start rolling over soon. Despite his fears, Tim continuously incorporates tummy time into her routine, and he lies on his side to watch her, enjoying her grunts, coos, and occasional loud, wordless exclamations.

(“She’s going to be such a talker,” Tim comments.

“Yup,” Kon says, not even looking up from his paperwork—superheroing involves so much of it, which is why Tim’s a vigilante who writes gibberish on reports, waiting for Bruce to catch him. If it does happen, he’ll blame Jason since he’s the one who started the trend. “She probably gets it from you.”

Tim gasps. “Excuse me?” he says.

“Tim, honey,” Kon says, lifting his head. He has the most loving expression on his face when he says, “You’re the king of never shutting the fuck up.” Kon smiles, then, and Tim curses him for looking so handsome. “But that’s one of the things I love about you. And MJ, too. Both of you are cute.”

“Alright,” Tim says, narrowing his eyes. “You win this round, clone boy, but next time you won’t be so lucky!”

“Got it,” Kon replies, tossing his file aside. He crooks a finger, grinning now, and says, “Why don’t you come and give me some sugar, huh?”)

One morning, he wakes up with enough energy to take over the world and decides to redirect it into making a new photo album with MJ as the subject. Kon checks in on him a couple of times while he’s cleaning the apartment, but mostly leaves him to it.

At some point, probably in the afternoon (definitely after breakfast—Kon made him a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and homemade hash browns, which Tim devoured in minutes), he hears a knock on the door.

“Is that my imagination?” Tim wonders aloud before he hears the same knock— thunk, thunk, thunk. “Huh, maybe not. Kon?” He waits for his boyfriend to peek around the corner and smiles. “Can you get the door? I’m still sorting my photos, and if I stop now, I’ll lose track.”

“No problem, babe,” Kon replies cheerfully, walking to the front door. Tim returns to his sorting, only lifting his head when he hears Kon flatly say, “Oh, it’s you.”

Tim grins when he spies a familiar figure standing in the doorway. “Jason!” he exclaims, waving him in. Kon rolls his eyes but does step aside, which allows Jason to move past him… with a giant box in hand (?). “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to check up on you,” Jason says. “See how you’re doing. Also, here.” He places the box on the floor. “A gift from Roy and me.”

“Oh!” Tim glances down at his album, sighs, and sets it aside to pull Jason’s box close. He peeks inside, smiling when he sees a pile of folded clothes. “Aw, Jay! You shouldn’t have!”

“Don’t mention it,” Jason says gruffly, scratching the back of his neck. When Tim sneaks a peek, he swears he sees a hint of pink on Jason’s cheeks. “Roy had these lying around and decided he didn’t need them anymore, so I suggested they go to you and your little one. I… We hope you like them.”

“Thank you!” Tim stares at his brother for a moment, glancing at the bedroom and back. “Do you want to see her? It’s about time for her to wake up.”

“I don’t want to intrude…”

“Jay,” Tim says, punching his thigh. He waits for Jason to stop hissing before he continues speaking, “It’s fine. Come and see your niece. You can even hold her for a while—but only if you’re not busy.”

“No, uh… My day’s free,” Jason says while he rubs the spot Tim punched. Tim hopes he leaves a bruise. “Alright, let’s go see her.”

MJ is already smiling when Tim approaches the bassinet. She wiggles around in her swaddle, and when Tim unzips her to take her out, she releases a big yawn and stretches her arms above her head, body scrunching up when he lifts her.

“Good afternoon, my sweet girl,” Tim says, leaning in to nuzzle her cheek. MJ feels warm in the best way. “Uncle Jay is here to see you.” He pauses to grimace, catching a similar expression on Jason’s face. “Yeah, that sounded weird to me, too.”

“How about we go with Tío?” Jason offers. “Nothing wrong with Tío Jay or Tío Jason.”

“Alright,” Tim agrees, holding MJ out to his brother. “Hold her.”

Jason blinks owlishly at him before slowly accepting the baby into his arms. She smacks a tiny palm against his chin, going, “EEE!” before flopping against his shoulder. Her mouth latches onto his shirt, and Tim laughs when he hears the sound of her attempting to feed.

“I guess she’s hungry,” he says, amused. “Wanna give her a bottle, too?”

Tim leaves Jason on the couch with MJ in his arms and a bottle of milk in his hand. He feels a fresh wave of affection when he catches the soft, tender expression Jason wears as he stares down at MJ, and he hurries into the kitchen to let him have his moment.

“It’s cute, isn’t it?” he comments when he sidles up to Kon beside the island. Kon hums noncommittally. Tim glances at his boyfriend and catches the subtle red glow in his eyes as he stares into the living room. “Oh, Conner…”

He leans over to smack his hands over Kon’s cheeks, startling his boyfriend into staring at him. The heat vision doesn’t immediately fade as they stare at each other, and Tim barely contains his shiver at the sight, feeling a tiny lick of heat in his spine when Kon smirks.

“Shut up,” he grumbles.

“I didn’t say anything,” Kon says, sounding amused.

“And stop,” Tim scolds, frowning. “I know you don’t like him, and you don’t have to—I’m not going to force a relationship between you two—but Jason’s my brother. He’s going to be part of our lives for MJ and me, and that’s something you have to accept.”

Kon sighs and tips forward, pressing their foreheads together. “Yeah, I know,” he says quietly, shutting his eyes. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Tim says, kissing the corner of his mouth. “It’s cute that you’re so protective of me.”

“I’m not cute…”

“You’re very cute,” Tim says, smiling when Kon’s cheeks turn pink. “That’s why I like you so much.”

“Oh? That’s why?” And even with the blush on Kon’s face, he leans close to Tim, leering at him and waggling his brow. “Not because of my big—”

“KON!” Tim shouts, slapping a hand over his mouth when it draws Jason’s attention to them. He waves off his big brother’s concern, smiling with all the innocence he can muster up, and slumps in relief when Jason shakes his head and returns to looking at MJ. “You’re too silly, sometimes,” Tim says, reaching up to pat Kon’s face while ignoring Kon’s smirk. “And you’re lucky Dick wasn’t here. He’d dropkick you for that comment.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” Kon says dismissively, but Tim can also see how nervous he looks. “Right?”

“You really want to test your luck?” Tim counters, nodding when Kon shakes his head. “I thought so.”

He warms up some of the soup they made last night and carries a bowl into the living room, taking the armchair (they bought it for Bart) and curling up beneath a blanket. Kon stays in the kitchen to clean—Tim knows he’s trying to get rid of the tomato sauce stain Cassie burned into their counter.

“Can I…”

Tim glances at Jason, noting how he looks uncharacteristically hesitant. “What’s up?” he says, slurping more soup into his mouth. It burns nicely when it travels down his throat.

“Can I visit again?” Jason says in a rush. He briefly looks down to pull the bottle out of MJ’s mouth before sitting her up to burp her. She already looks so sleepy. “And maybe with Roy and Lian? They want to meet her—Lian, especially. She saw a picture of MJ on my phone and has been obsessed with the idea of meeting a baby.”

“We can plan something soon.” Tim smiles, leaning forward. “You keep pictures of MJ?”

“One of ‘em is my home screen,” Jason mutters, looking embarrassed. “I—of course I do, Tim. She’s my niece.”

“That’s right,” Tim says, satisfied. He settles back against the cushion and returns to eating his soup, humming when MJ finally burps—a small, quiet one, but she seems pleased nonetheless. “You know, I’m really happy you’re here, Jason. And not just in my apartment, too.”

“Oh,” Jason says, almost too soft to be heard. He clears his throat, now cradling MJ in the crook of his elbow, a blanket tucked around her, and says, “I never thought you would—” Jason stops, and Tim watches as his expression shifts between gratitude and sadness. “Thanks, Tim. It’s nice to hear someone say that.”

Conversation seems to flow easier after that, and Tim finally views Jason as a brother and a friend, much like he does with Dick. 

When Tim takes MJ to lay her down for a proper nap, he’s a little surprised to overhear a civil conversation between Kon and Jason as they discuss the best ways to season and cook meat (Kon recently discovered he likes cooking).

Jason departs after lunch, and Tim sees him off with a hug and a physical photo of MJ for him to hang on his wall.

“I guess he’s not so bad,” Kon grumbles when Tim returns to his side. “I don’t think I’ll ever truly like the guy, but I can probably tolerate him.”

“That’s all I ask,” Tim says, kissing him.

★★

As promised, Tim empties out one of the rooms in his Nest for Damian.

The teen comes over quite frequently, filling his room with art supplies, books, and weapons he locks away in the safe Tim installs for him. At his request, Tim buys him a few cans of paint in a variety of colors, helping him lay out some tarps so he can paint to his heart’s content.

Sometimes, he’ll sit right outside the door with MJ, letting her watch him from the hall. He doesn’t think she registers anything from the distance, but whenever Damian draws closer, she kicks her legs out in excitement, a gummy smile on display.

“I think she’s starting to recognize you,” Tim says when Damian takes a break to roll a ball between himself and MJ. Sure, Tim has to help her roll the ball back before she grabs it to put her mouth on it, but it’s still fun for her. “She only gets this happy whenever she sees Kon or me.”

Sometimes, Damian arrives with a bag packed for the weekend, or he’ll slide into Tim’s car after Friday night dinners and go home with him. When this happens, he sits in the back with MJ and tells her about his day in a hushed tone, and Tim has to fight his smile the entire drive back to the Nest.

“It’s kinda weird,” Kon says one night when they’re cleaning up after movie night—something Tim implemented after learning Damian had yet to watch most of the older animated films. “But I think I’m starting to get used to living with the little demon.”

“Don’t call him that,” Tim says with a click of his tongue, lightly swatting Kon’s arm. He stares at his brother, fast asleep on the couch with MJ on his chest. Her slow blinks tell him that she’s getting there, too. “I get what you mean, though. It’s a nice change.”

“Are you happy?” Kon asks, suddenly pulling Tim into his arms.

Tim wraps his arms around him, playing with the ends of his hair. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been,” he says.

★★

“What’s the purpose of this?” Damian asks one Saturday afternoon.

They’re in the living room waiting for Kon to return with groceries. Tim and MJ are on the floor for her scheduled tummy time while Damian sits on the couch, drying his hair with a green towel.

“It’ll strengthen her neck, shoulder, and arm muscles,” Tim explains as he carefully places MJ on her stomach, elevating the upper half of her body by placing her arms on a pillow. “See? Look at how she’s already holding up her head! She’s so smart.”

MJ wobbles as she stares at him with wide eyes, her feet kicking out when Tim meets her gaze and smiles. His heart melts when she smiles back and releases a loud, joyful exclamation, tiny fingers curling around the corners of the pillowcase before she lowers her head and attempts to eat it.

“So, is this truly beneficial to her?”

“I’d say so—and it’ll eventually encourage her to crawl!”

“… The thought of Martha Jane crawling frightens me. What if she crawls into a dangerous place?”

“Don’t put that into my head!” Tim complains, feeling a trickle of fear at the idea. “I already want to cry at the thought of her walking!” He sniffles, already tearing up. “Because then she’ll be walking away from me and going off to college!”

Damian seems to consider this, sporting a thoughtful look similar to Bruce when he’s trying to crack a case. “Ah,” he says after a while. “Is this what anxiety feels like?”

“Like there’s a worm crawling around in your stomach and you’re about to puke up whatever you ate last?” Tim guesses, nodding when Damian does. “Yep. That’s it.”

“I don’t like it,” Damian announces before slipping off the couch and disappearing into the bedroom. He soon returns sans his towel, backpack in hand, and slowly sinks to the floor beside them, arranging his body so he, too, is lying on his stomach.

“Aw, are you joining MJ for tummy time?” Tim asks with a smile, which grows wider when he sees Damian’s cheeks redden.

“I thought she might enjoy some company while I do my homework,” Damian says, pulling out a folder from his backpack. “Then, it will be time for her second nap, correct?”

“Yep,” Tim says, a part of him wanting to coo. He shoves the urge away—Tim can’t let himself turn into Dick Grayson!

“I will join her,” Damian declares, tipping a capped pen toward MJ when she extends a hand toward it. She grabs it and immediately tries to lean over to put it in her mouth, so Tim has to watch as Damian struggles to get her to release it. “A companion during nap time may encourage her to stay asleep.”

“Maybe,” Tim says, amused. He taps a finger against his chin, humming. “I seem to recall an announcement you made during dinner some years back, declaring that you were done with nap time and you refused to partake in the act ever again.”

Damian’s ears turn pink. “People change,” he defends weakly.

“Indeed they do,” Tim says, tapping Damian’s hand.

And so, their day of relaxation begins.

Tim occasionally flips MJ onto her back to give her neck and shoulders a break, and he also takes the time to stretch out her arms and legs, laughing over every little noise she makes. He briefly leaves her side to get a snack for himself and Damian and also prepares a bottle since it's about time for MJ to have one.

While she’s drinking it, Tim puts on a documentary about planet Earth, not even pointing out how Damian gets distracted by it.

Like father, like son, Tim thinks fondly, recalling all the nights he’d put on something while going over some old casework in the Batcave. About halfway through the film, he’d turn and find Bruce looming behind him, brows furrowed and eyes fixed on the screen.

Halfway through the documentary, when MJ’s back to having a bit more tummy time, Tim’s window jostles.

“Timmy,” Dick whines after he slips into the apartment. Hm. Maybe Tim needs to update his traps… “Do you have any Tums? I’m so bloated, and—” Here, he pauses. “Oh, floor time?”

Dick walks over, shedding his Escrima sticks and other various gear along the way. He then throws himself onto the floor when he gets close, peeling off his domino mask. “Hi, sweet girl!” he says happily, leaning toward MJ. Her eyes go wide, and she starts kicking her legs out, reminding Tim of a butterfly trying to fly away. “I’ve missed you! Will you let me steal you for a night or two?”

“No,” Damian says, scowling at Dick (Tim’s too shocked to even breathe). “You’re not allowed to steal her, Richard! She’d much prefer to spend time with me.”

“GEE!” MJ exclaims, and Tim quickly leans down to turn her onto her back. That’s enough tummy time for now.

“You’re home early,” Tim comments as he quickly grabs the Tums for Dick. He keeps them nearby since he sometimes still experiences heartburn. “How was the mission?”

“How’d you know about that?” Dick asks, only to sigh a second later. “Wait, why am I asking? It’s you I’m talking to, so of course you know.” He takes the offered Tums and tosses them into his mouth, crunching them like a weirdo. “It was fine. No one got injured, and I got to share photos of my new niece with everyone.”

Damian moves to sit with MJ on the couch for another bottle while Tim stays on the floor with Dick, letting his big brother talk to his heart’s content.

“Is it okay if I keep dropping in on you guys like this?” Dick asks later when Tim’s changing MJ’s diaper. She tries to roll away, so Tim makes Dick hold her down by her shoulders so Tim can get the new, fresh diaper on. “I mean, I know you’re making a life with your boyfriend, and you’ve got this whole brotherly relationship thing going on with Damian, but I… I miss you. Both of you.”

“Aw, Dick…” Tim quickly redresses MJ and picks her up so he can wrap an arm around his brother. “You know we’re not leaving you behind, right? Damian and I have a different relationship than the one we have or the one he has with you. At the end of the day, you’re always going to be our big brother. That’ll never change.”

Dick huffs out a laugh. “You always know the right things to say,” he says, voice slightly wobbly.

Tim smiles at him, gently patting Dick’s cheek. “I learned it from you,” he replies, biting back his squeak when Dick abruptly shifts to hug him tightly. “You’re welcome here anytime you want! Just… make sure you knock so Kon can hear you.”

“You got it, little brother.” Dick suddenly hisses, and Tim looks down to see MJ gripping a huge chunk of his hair. “Come on, MJ! Be nice to Uncle Dickie! We talked about you grabbing my hair, remember? I worked hard to get it to this length!”

Even though she very likely doesn’t understand, MJ giggles.

Dick departs soon after Kon arrives with an armful of groceries, promising to be there for Sunday brunch.

“Wanna get dinner started?” Kon asks. Tim leaves the couch to greet him, throwing his arms around his boyfriend to deliver a much-needed kiss. “Hm, maybe I can have a different meal.”

“Gross,” Damian says out loud, and Tim turns in time to see him carry MJ out of the room. She vocally expresses her excitement through pterodactyl-like shrieks. “MJ and I will be in the room learning how to play Pretty, Pretty, Princess.”

“Alright, have fun!” Tim calls out, turning back toward Kon. “What?” he says when Kon arches a brow.

“You’re cute,” Kon replies, and kisses his forehead (Tim definitely pouts about it because he wanted more regular kisses). “Come on. Dinner’s not gonna cook itself.”

★★

“Dinner’s ready,” Tim calls after an hour and a half of cooking. He smiles when Damian emerges from his bedroom with a pink tiara on his head, carrying MJ, who wears one of her princess dresses (also pink). “We’re having veggie burgers.”

Damian blinks. “All of you?” he says incredulously. 

“Yup,” Tim says, setting the bowl of salad in the center of the table. He jerks a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to Kon. “He’ll set you up with whatever you want, and then you’ll bring it here like always. Want to pass MJ to me? I’ll get her in her bouncer while you get your food.”

His little brother walks over, but he still looks dazed. Tim presses the back of his hand against Damian’s forehead, humming when he feels nothing amiss.

“You okay?” he asks, taking MJ and transferring her to the bouncer nearby. She doesn’t fight him on it this time, so he’s facing Damian again in no time, wondering if he should call Dick. “Did you want something else? Kon and I have alternatives if it’s not to your liking.”

Damian hugs him.

It lasts for longer than five seconds, and Tim’s surprised when it keeps going. He slowly wraps his arms around Damian, a bit bewildered, but he can’t keep the smile off his face when Damian sighs and relaxes against him.

“Are you sure everything’s alright, Dami?” he asks, only to wince. “Oh, sorry. I forgot you don’t like that nickname.”

“I think,” Damian says slowly. “I don’t mind if it’s coming from you.” He soon pulls away, and again, there’s that boyishly sweet smile. “Thank you. I’m excited for dinner.”

“Me too,” Tim says, grinning now. He ruffles Damian’s hair, and Damian doesn’t even try to push his hands away. “Kon made it with love.” 

Tim cackles when Damian immediately scowls.

★★

MJ keeps growing, and every day, it’s almost like Tim’s staring at a whole new person.

She gets better at expressing herself and memorizes the few bits of sign language they teach her. Now, she’ll sign if she wants more milk, stays relaxed when Tim indicates she’s going to have her diaper changed, and will point to who she wants for the day. MJ also transitions to eating solids easier than expected, and she shows her preference by scrunching her face when she eats something particularly nasty (peas) or smacking her lips together and bobbing her head (strawberry).

Overall, MJ is a pretty happy baby, and she’s always smiling when Tim or Kon enters the room. Sometimes, MJ will release a shriek after she hears them speak first thing in the morning, or she’ll giggle sweetly whenever they kiss her chubby little cheeks.

Hell, she still had a smile on her face even when she started teething—which caused nearly everyone to cry after Tim sent photos of her teeny tiny teeth poking out of her gums. The moment was ruined when Dick replied with an image of Alvin the Chipmunk because her two front teeth were the first to show up.

Of course, most of her joy comes from seeing Damian.

Since the teen is around so often, she perceives him more than the rest of their family, and Tim often has to tighten his hold on MJ so she doesn’t throw herself out of his arms in her attempt to reach him. Damian clearly doesn’t mind, and he’s always there to pick her up or take her from him, holding her while he eats or takes a break from his workout (or homework), and even using the baby sling to keep her swaddled against his chest.

“It works,” he defends, and Tim doesn’t even argue. It’s probably one of the best purchases he made since having his baby.

Tim recovers faster than anticipated, so he quickly becomes active in his job, working from home more often than not to spend as much time as possible with MJ. He also returns to his Red Robin duties with the promise of taking it easy, letting Damian handle more of the physical stuff since the teen always insists on partnering with him.

(And, of course, after getting the okay from Leslie Thompkins, Tim engages in other strenuous activities with Kon, both trying to find a balance between spending time together and being there for their daughter’s needs.)

Soon, Tim finds himself sobbing as he takes her six-month photo, pulling her into his arms afterward to kiss her all over her face.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he says tearfully, suddenly glad he’s alone in his apartment. Tim smiles when she brushes her chubby fingers over his face, probably fascinated by his tears. “Mama loves you, sweetheart. And so does Papa. We both love you so, so much.” 

He kisses one of her chubby cheeks, laughing when she releases a delighted squeal. “Everyone loves you—Baba Bruce, Uncle Dickie, and Tío Jason, and Auntie Stephie and Cass, and especially your Uncle Dami.” He holds her out, smiling when she gnaws on a finger. “You’re such a special girl. Thank you for being mine.”

MJ smiles sweetly, her damp, sticky hands smacking his wrist. Tim pulls her into another hug, a fresh wave of tears spilling out when she pops her lips against his cheek—a kiss.