A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed and a special thanks to gege qurban who questioned whether or not Tim's dad was alive. Originally I thought not, that Tim just being introverted and independent chose to live outside of the manor but suddenly I thought, that would be interesting...So now Tim's Dad is alive, so I suppose in that way it's just the slightest bit AU.


"Stephanie is what?"

"Pregnant", replied Tim dryly.

"Honestly", Jason sniggered, "can that girl keep her legs clos-"

"Shut up, Jason", snapped the younger, meanwhile Dick remained in a state of shock between them.

"Pregnant", he began slowly, "with a baby?"

Despite himself and his affection for his older brother, Tim scowled and parted with the acrobat a look that read-"well, obviously".

"No", Jason chortled, "no, Dick. Haven't you heard? They're expecting pups..."

The eldest of the brothers ignored him, looking directly upon Tim. "Yours?"

Tim raised an eyebrow, "who else?"

Dick leaned back into his hair, running a hand through his thick, black hair. He looked up from furrowed brows towards his younger brother. "Have you told Bruce?"

Tim shook his head, "of course I haven't. Do you think everything would have gone down so quietly if I did? That you'd only be hearing about this now?"

"So we're the first people you've told?"

Tim frowned. "No, I told my Dad."

For some reason it irritated him slightly that he had to remind them he did have his own, separate father. Whose approval he respected naturally a little more than Bruce's, of course he thought of Bruce as mentor, a second father of sorts but he knew that no matter how he approached the subject with Bruce, the outcome would always remain the same. The man would go ballistic, voice his utter disappointment in his protégé and then probably refuse to speak to him for quite some time.

It was his father, Jack Drake, who had been initially shocked upon hearing the news but had eventually smiled and told him it was going to be okay. It was Jack Drake who would be helping him cope day in and day out with being a newfound parent, all the while Bruce worked his way out of his huff.

Silence hung between them and clearing his throat, Tim went to move. "Seriously, I have to go now".

"Wait!" The eldest chided him. "You can't go yet, you have to talk to Bruce".

"I can't right now", Tim sighed and then added more resolutely. "And furthermore, I won't. Things are stressful enough right now with him having one of his fits".

"You can't leave him in the dark over this stuff", insisted Dick. "That's the mistake I made. I know he'll act like a child and throw a tantrum but the longer you wait, the more insulted he'll be when you do tell him-"

Something changed within Tim in an instant. "Insult him?"

"You know", he continued. "That's what the problem is. Bruce will take Steph's pregnancy as an insult against him and really- how will it affect him? He won't have to see the kid if he doesn't want to-"

"Tim-" Interjected his eldest brother amiably, attempting to diffuse the tension.

"Tell me I'm wrong", he deadpanned in response.

Dick couldn't, Jason however was quick to throw his opinion in. "Look at you, Replacement", he whistled teasingly. "Rebelling against Daddybats- I'd say I was proud but then again it is you, we won't push it".

"I'm not telling Bruce yet", Tim insisted and made his way towards the door, no one tried to stop him this time and he was gone.

"Crazy, huh?" Dick murmured, mainly to himself.

"I didn't think he had it in him", Jason replied, receiving an elbow to the rib for his comment.

Dick turned to him seriously, "you have to promise me you won't tell Bruce to mess with Tim. That would be just cruel. This is his business. We have to leave him to it".

Jason shrugged, which Dick as confirmation. "Good".

A small voice piped up from above them however. "I don't know, I believe father should know".

The two men's heads snapped up sharply, to find Damian sitting upon the banister which overlooked the foyer, a smug smirk plastered to his face, "even if it would be just to watch Drake squirm".

"You won't say a word", hissed the boy's former mentor. "You have to promise me that too!"

"What's in it for me though?" Replied the latest incarnation of Robin, "why shouldn't I tell father what the so-called genius has been up to lately?"

"Not much of a genius if he can't-" Jason started to mutter callously however Dick spoke over him to answer Damian.

"Because, if you do, I'll make you regret it."

Damian arched an unimpressed, and very unafraid, eyebrow. "And that means?"

"And that means while you might enjoy watching Timmy "squirm"", he explained sternly. "You'd have the combined annoyance of Alfred and I to deal with after. Now I understand if you aren't afraid of me, but Alfred? You'd never eat again".

Damian's eyes narrowed but mumbling glumly in submission he stalked away, back towards his bedroom with a slam of the door.

"When do you think he will break the news?" Jason asked abruptly from behind him after a moment. Dick turned back to him and offered him a gesture of exasperation. "I don't know, some time when Bruce is halfway around the world and Steph looks like she's carrying a basketball under her jumper".

Jason chuckled and sauntered off back towards the living room where Dick could hear him sweeping up the glass shards from before.

Dick took the time to himself to digest what Tim had told him. He couldn't imagine Tim, his little brother Timmy, as a father. Not that he couldn't handle the responsibility, no, Tim was the Mr. Responsible of them all, which was exactly why he couldn't have predicted something like this happening.

He vowed there and then however, that he would support his little brother no matter what.

And in return of course they would have to name the baby after him, or at least let him choose.

He was pulled from his reverie by the sound of a car outside, footsteps followed and then two shilouettes appeared in the manor doorway, Bruce and Alfred of course. Both seemed a little taken aback to find the eldest sitting alone at the foot of the stairs.

"Dick?" Bruce moved forward to kneel before him, "are you alright?"

Concern swam in his weary eyes and Dick merely responded, equally as exhausted. "I think I just need a holiday".

A smile quirked at the corner of Bruce's mouth, "I'll take you up on that- just get yourself out of that chair first".

Patting his eldest son fondly on the shoulder, Bruce proceeded upstairs. By the time he returned, said son was asleep in the living room and Jason was sulking in the kitchen.

Bruce was surprised to see him, "Jason? I didn't know you'd be here".

"S'what's it to you?" Slurred the younger man in response.

Bruce sighed. "Do you have to fight me on everything?"

Jason simply hunched over further and turned away from his ex-mentor.

"And not even a happy drunk", Bruce shook his head.

Jason replied in the form of a disgruntled huffing noise and Bruce realised he was trying to pick his way through a first aid kit- little did he know the same one used on Tim only half an hour before.

Jason's hands were raw at the knuckle, his hands and fingers dotted with tiny pricks of blood. At the present he was wrapping his hands almost in the style of a boxer and having a rather difficult time of it.

"So it was a rough night then", Bruce concluded and Jason would not tell him otherwise.

"Who was it then? Who did you pick a fight with?" He suspected it was just some other bar goer who Jason had accused of looking at him funny, or vice versa. Again, Jason was quite content for him to be limited to this knowledge. He was sure Dick would fill him on what really happened tomorrow and he would be lectured then.

"You're the most accident prone person I think I've ever come across", Bruce mumbled to himself and sat down opposite his rebel son. He offered to wrap his other hand for him, it being nearly impossible for Jason to do so himself. Of course Jason refused, recoiling away from Bruce's touch moodily.

"Well you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" He grumbled bitterly and giving up on his bandaging his hand, stood up abruptly and exited the kitchen, knocking the chair over behind him in frustration.

Bruce watched him go forlornly, running a hand through his hair with a defeated sigh. He could do nothing right in the eyes of the Red Hood.

And that seemed unlikely to ever change.

Alfred's silent figure entering the kitchen caused him to start slightly. He tried to pass off a smile to the elderly butler but there was little fooling the man- he'd always been gifted with seeing straight through Bruce's facade.

"What is it, Master Wayne?"

"Jason". And the name said enough.

"I just don't know what to do with him, Alfred", he continued drearily. "He's impossible, doesn't want to talk, he doesn't want to be in the same room as the rest of us and yet he complains exclude him. I just... I just don't know what he wants..."

"I think it's safe to say that Master Jason doesn't even know what he wants", Alfred interjected wisely.

"How do you deal with him, Alfred? He listens to you".

Alfred chuckled, "Purely because I don't give him much of a choice".

Bruce shook his head with a slight smile. "All the men of the Wayne household dare to go up against the most insane of criminals this can throw at us- but hell hath no fury like an Alfred Pennyworth scorned".

"Then you should be very grateful I use my abilities for good", the Butler smiled further before bidding the Batman goodnight.

Bruce waited around for several more minutes before moving into the living room where he found his eldest still sprawled across the couch. Acquiring of a pillow and blanket, he placed the pillow beneath his sons head and draped the blanket carefully over him.

He could not help but marvel at the virtues of the acrobats personalities. He had done wrongs to him in the past. He'd forced the weight of his burdens on the shoulder of the younger man. He had not always supplied him with the fatherly support he needed. But Dick had always forgiven him, never passing up the chance to flash a smile or share in witticisms with his adoptive father. He was so different from Jason, who refused to talk. Or even Tim, who at times seemed untrusting of the man.

But not Richard Grayson, the born performer who used the streets of Gotham as his stage. Who played so many roles in the lives of others, son, brother, ally... all of which he loved and lived for.


A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Please, please rate and review! :D

Some people have reviewed questioning about the teenage pregnancy, Tim being the father etc. Fear not- all I have to say is...

1. Everything is not as it seems

2. All will be revealed shortly

;)