Summary: (Two-shot.) Dick decides that his family needs a night together; fun games, popcorn, a movie and smiles all around. And he'll /make/ them have a family fun night, even if he has to hunt, bribe, blackmail, knock out or drag them biting and screaming to the manor. And to his glee, he does manage to bring them all together. However, that part of his plan was the easiest. Out of all the games, Dick /never/ wanted them to play truth or dare for obvious reasons.

Ready Or Not

*Ring, ring, ring..*

Barbara wheeled her wheelchair to her coffee table, where her ringing phone was. She smiled when she read the caller ID. "Hey, Dick," she greets happily.

"Babs! Hey, how would you like to come to the manor for family fun night?"

Barbara laughs, "sure. How can I say no?"

"Great!" Dick cheered. "I'll be right over."

If someone were to ask Jason who his least favourite sibling was, his answer would be Dick without hesitation. It's not that he hates the guy -ok, no, he really does hate the guy- but not the same as he hates the Joker. Joker hate is the blinding kind. You know it's there when you can't uncurl your trembling hands, when you can hardly think straight, much less see anything that's not red. When your chest contracts so much you think you might suffocate, and drowned in fury and wraith and agony? Jason knows that hate. All too well, actually.

But Dick hate isn't like that. It's not even like Bruce hate. Bruce hate is the ripping-your-hair-out kind. It's the fights that demand screaming at the top of your lungs, the kind that's just so frustrating because he infuriates you with his 'I-know-best-because-I-have-a-plan-for-everything-so-you-should-obey-my-every-comand.' Unlike Tim, who at least has the decency to tell him the full and complete Goddamn plan. Bruce hate is the type that leaves Jason taking misplaced anger on thugs and criminals.

Dick hate, however, is a special kind. Like Bruce, Dick has expectations for Jason. Expectations that Jason never asked for, thank you very fucking much. "Why do you keep killing people, Little Wing? You shouldn't drink so much, Jay. If you keep smoking you'll get cancer!" are some of the most common from him. However, unlike Bruce, Dick has a dirty little talent when it comes to people, because Golden Boy has always been a people person (something Jason will never understand, nor will he ever) and can make friends with almost anyone. Even the Demon Brat, which he's secretly impressed with. (He would rather die again than tell anyone, though.) That Golden Boy has a charm that causes people to trust, love, admire, and inspire them to be more like him. (Jason swears that it's the work of the Devil. Demon Brat agrees.) And all that sappy shit goes hand-in-hand with guilt. Jason can count on one hand the amount of people that can make him feel regret, and Dick-mother-fucking-Grayson is the pro at guilt tripping. It's not fucking fair. Dick hate is the kind that grates on his nerves with his maddening grin, the empty death threats and the bullets that miss their target, the one-sided yelling match, and the little bit of guilt that slithers in his chest when Jason see's Dick's crestfallen expression. Which he promptly get's drunk to drown the unwelcome emotion and forgets all about it until the next time.

So when the Dickwad suddenly comes climbing through his open window, you can guess what Jason's first repose was.

"Oh, no you fucking don't," Jason hisses, marching towards the window, fully intending on pushing the bastard back out. Jason already knows that he isn't here because of an emergency, because Dick would have called if it was. But no, Dick decided to come in person. That means he's here for an even worse reason.

But Dick is already in his apartment and closes the window, before Jason is in front of him with a gun pointed to Dick's heart. "Hey, Jay-" the asshole smiles brightly at him, like he doesn't have a fully loaded gun touching his chest.

"No," Jason cuts him off sharply and glares him down. "Don't you 'hey Jay' me. Get out of my apartment before I pull the trigger."

Dick gives him a look, like he knows Jason isn't going to actually fulfil the threat. Jason loathes it, but even if his grip on the weapon tightens, he knows that Dick's right. "All I want is-"

And there it is. "I want." Nothing good ever happened to Jason when Dick starts his sentence with 'I want.' "I don't want to hear it!" Jason blares, because if he doesn't hear it, then Dick can't guilt trip him and Jason won't be forced to refuse and fume alone the rest of the night, while unable to stop thinking about the Dickwad.

But since when had Dick ever listen to him?

"All I want is for the family to spend one night together!"

'I fucking knew it', Jason thinks bitterly. "Hell, no." Jason snarls, now knowing why Dick had decided to come to visit. Jason just got back from patrol, along with several fights, so now he's both spent and drained. Furthermore, Dick is in his apartment so he can't just run away and leave his books to Dick's mercy. The prick planned this, and planned it good. Jason reaches behind Dick to open the window, but Dick side steps away.

"Come on, Little Wing," he pleads with big 'innocent' eyes, hands clasped. "It'll be fun! I promise."

Jason scowls and crosses his arms. Anger is biting at him. He won't shoot at Dick, but only because it runs the risk of ruining his belongings. "No means no, dick. Now get out!"

Dick sighs and drops his hands and shoulders. Jason tenses and gets into a fighting stance. He knows that his sigh isn't one of defeat. "Please?" When he get's no response, Dick shakes his head like he's disappointed. Dread churns Jason's gut. "I did ask nicely, but now you've left me no choice."

"Whatever you're-" Jason cut himself off while ducking Dick's grab. So Dick wants to play like this? Jason drops his gun to punch Dick's jaw, but Dick blocks and tries to sweep Jason off his feet. Jason dances away, avoiding the sharp corner of his table, and Dick lunges. That move allows Jason to punch Dick's open stomach, but Dick smirks through the pain as he takes a hold of Jason's fist and arm. Dick uses and twists Jason's arm, to that it's forced and stuck behind him painfully. Dick's other arm snakes across Jason's middle and over his second arm, so that Jason was now fully locked against Dick's front. Jason cusses his mistake as he struggles.

"Now, Little Wing," Dick says calmly like he has all the time in the world. "How about that family fun night, mm?"

"Go rot in hell!"

Dick sighs again. "Just remember that it didn't have to come to this." His iron-strong hold on Jason's middle tightens, but Jason realizes it's to reach Dick's front pocket. He pulls out a white cloth before forcing Jason's head down on the nearby table. Jason growls, but with his right arm still behind him he can't do much but frail about. Dick took his momentarily free left arm and bent it like the right, before pressing his middle on them and Jason's back. Jason eyes the white cloth, and it suddenly clicks. Horror, and blazing anger swelled in Jason.

"Oh, you-"

Any insult was muffled by the white cloth, and within seconds Jason winked out. But in the few seconds before Jason got knocked out, he swore that the next time Dick needed help in battle he would leave the bastard to die. Dick released his brother, unable to stop the smug smirk, before handcuffing Jason and throwing him over his shoulder.

"Wow," Dick huffed and adjusted the big man. "You really need to lay off the pizzas, Jay."

If someone asked Tim if he loved his family he would say "of course." If someone asked him if he loved spending time with his family he would say "depends," and ask them to clarify which family member. "What about together? Like, all of them?" If that was the question, Tim would have answer "hell no" without hesitation. No matter when, how, why, or where, the bat family together always ends with chaos. There's yelling, screaming, kicking, fighting, pranks, threats of all kind, things and people break etc. Because someone will always be at another's throat, usually the same people, and any truces that are made is in the name of a third party's misery.

Most of the Bat Clan, excluding the Demon Spawn, are perfectly tolerable if it's only one-on-one. Perhaps even three if you have a good match. But three is the absolute limit, and you have to be very careful on those three people. For example, the girls get along without a hitch. All is fine if Tim is with Dick, but add Jason to the mix and things get testy. This implies vice versa, also. Tim isn't very surprised that Dick and Damian are a good fit, because Dick is the only meta-human in the family (he can even transform enemies into friends), but as soon as Tim or Jason is included it goes down hill. With Jason, he and Damian sometimes team up and tease Dick. Tim and Damian fight each other, no matter who else is in the mix.

Despite this, Dick will occasionally try to have "family bondings." It's truly and honestly beyond Tim. It's taxing and illogical. Usually to make this happen a lot of blackmail, kidnapping and bribing is involved. Yet, this was not Tim's first thought when Dick knocked on his bedroom window.

Tim was working on a new case at his desk, and when he noticed his older brother he got up and opened the window. "Is something wrong?" Tim questions while looking Dick over. Because the first thing he noticed that Dick was in his Nightwing suit, but he couldn't see any visible injuries so he isn't hurt and in need? 'He's most likely here for a social call and to check my health,' Tim muses. It certainly wouldn't be the first time. Ah, but the problem was that this case needed his attention. Perhaps Tim can promise next month?

Straightening, Dick flashes a bright grin after dusting off his legs. "Nope, just wanted to see my brothers!" This is followed by a hug, of course.

Tim, of course, catches the plural. After being let go he repeats, "Brothers?" He kept his expression passive, even as his mind swirls with a dreaded new guess. Tim prayed that this will be one of the rare times he's wrong.

"Yeah," Dick confirms. "There's going to be a family fun night-"

Tim held one hand up and momentarily closed his eyes. "I'm going to stop you there, Dick."

Dick frowned, an expression that was dangerously close to a pout. "Come on, Timmy! Jason's already there-"

Tim arched a brow, unimpressed. "And is he currently tied up?"

Dick pouted at that. "Yes," he admits, "But that's beside the point. The point is that we need a family night, and everyone else is at the manor and-"

"Everyone?" Tim challenges and sits back down at his desk.

Dick puts his hands on his hips and gives Tim a look. They both know why he's being difficult. "Ok, so maybe not everyone, but that's because Steph and Cass are out of the country, and Bruce has other things." Such as Bat things.

Tim respects Dick a lot, he truly does. He didn't stalk him as a kid for nothing. Dick is a noble leader, an excellent mentor, a brilliant and deadly fighter, and despite what some individuals might think, he's extremely intelligent and quick on his feet. He's a solid rock that others can lean on when things get hard; he's protective and comfortable to be around, and it's hard not to like him. Sure, they've had their ups and downs, like when he made Damian the new Robin, but all that is water under the bridge. Dick explained himself, and after said explanation Tim understood and forgave him. He would follow Dick into any battle, against any odds. But he draws the line when it comes to 'family fun night.' "Cool," Tim nods as he turns away from Dick to his computer. "Enjoy your night together."

But Tim should really know by now how stubborn Dick is. If he has to play it dirty, then so be it. (Dick was raised by Bruce, after all.) Dick closes Tim's computer. "Tim," he warns slowly.

Tim tenses. He recognizes the tone. "No, Dick," Tim retorts, spinning his chair to lock eyes with the man. "You know it's not a good idea. Besides, I have work and-"

"You always have work."

Tim presses his lips together. "Maybe, but-"

"If you don't come, I'll have no choice but to send last years April Fool's pictures to the whole Team."

Tim's eyes widen before soon narrowing. He crosses his arms while leaning into his office chair. "Impossible. I trashed all the copies and deleted all the digital ones. And that includes Barbara's." Even so, his heart spiked in fear.

Dick grinned slyly. Wordlessly, he pulls out an exact photo of April Fool's disaster. In a flash, Tim jumped up and tackled Dick, who laughed and did nothing as Tim snatched and ripped the picture into little pieces. "And I have more where that came from," Dick winks, now on the ground.

The jerk had the nerve to chuckle at Tim's glare. 'But not for long,' Tim vows to himself. "If you do that, I swear I'll publish the Halloween pictures," he promises with a low and serious tone. Dick thinks he can blackmail him? Ha!

If possible, Dick's wicked grin stretched farther. "Do it, then. I've already shown my friends the video."

Tim gapes disbelievingly down at him, "have you no shame?"

Dick's eyes danced with wicked delight. He looked mighty comfy on the floor. So, apparently not. "Yep. If you don't believe me you can ask Kori."

"You know what?" Tim scowls and turns on his heel to grab his phone from his desk. "I will." Dick giggled, and Tim shot him some glances as his phone began to ring by his ear.

Starfire picked up on the fifth ring. "Hello, Tim!"

"Hi Kori, I'm just wondering if you've ever seen Dick's costume from a few months ago on Halloween?" Tim hoped to God that she hadn't, and Dick was simply bluffing.

Kori giggles, and Tim's heart sank to his toes. "Oh, yeah. It was pretty funny, wasn't it?"

Tim swallows drily. "Ah, yeah. Thanks. I'm just gonna..." Tim hangs up and stares at his older brother, who was now seated smugly on Tim's bed. "Seriously?" is the only thing Tim can say in the moment. Wow. Tim knew that Dick wasn't overly proud, if the very first robin suit or his Golden Age Nightwing suits were anything to go by, but...Just, wow. Tim was honestly impressed and little bit scared of Dick, and it wasn't because Tim didn't currently have any dirt that toped Halloween at the moment.

"So, family fun night?" Dick prompts, leaning on his hands behind him on the blankets.

Tim sighs and rubs his temples. He can't believe that he's actually agreeing to this insane plan. Mutely, he nods.

Dick cheered and steers him to his apartment's front door with an arm on Tim's shoulders. "But I want any and all evidence of April Fool's gone. Got it?"

"No problem, Timmers," Dick chirped.

"I'm serious, Dick," Tim locks eyes and glares. "All of it."

Dick nodes seriously. "So am I."

Grayson is suppose to visit today, and stay until Sunday afternoon. Damian will admit to himself, and only to himself, that he has been looking forward to this day for a week now. He hasn't seen the idiot for a little over a month because of Grayson's busy schedule as both Nightwing and police officer. Damian failed to see why Grayson would want to be a police officer on top of the hero labour. The Budhaven's department can hardly be called one with the fraudulent workers, but he assumed that it was simply in Grayson's overbearing and righteous personality to attempt to mend broken things. However, that was not the issue at the moment. The issue was that Grayson was supposed to be here an hour ago.

Damian awaited in the middle of the hallway, which was the way to both the front door and the grandfather clock that concealed the entry way for the Batcave. Damian didn't know which one Grayson would use, so he opted to stay where he was closest to both. And has been for an hour. Bristling and pacing angrily, Damian checked his watch for the tenth time. He wondered what was taking the imbecile so long. Grayson wasn't a tardy person by habit, and if he is late he usually calls beforehand. So far Grayson hasn't been answering his phone. Worry clawed at Damian, and the boy wasn't pleased by it in the slightest. What if Grayson was injured? He did say that he would be heading towards Damian after his abnormally early patrol, which Damian knew ended at seven. It would also take him fifty five minutes to drive to the manor, but nonetheless Grayson should be here by now. It was currently nine o' two. Grayson is capable of looking after himself, Damian knew, yet...Damian vowed that if Grayson didn't appear in five minutes he would suit up and go looking himself.

Or what if he wasn't injured? What if Grayson simply didn't want to see Damian? Grayson had been sounding tired over the past few phone calls, but what if it's not what Damian first assumed it to be? He had thought the exhaustion was the result of Grayson's taxing hours, but what if it was actually talking to him that had drained Grayson? Damian knew himself to be difficult at the best of times, yet Grayson seemed the most infuriatingly cheerful, energetic, and stubborn person. Although everyone has their limits...

Damian stopped pacing and stared at the ground, dread settling in his stomach. Damian thought back and replayed anything that happened between them that would cause Grayson to be disappointed or angry with him. The last time they patrolled together, things went quite smoothly, no fights or arguments took place. Admittedly, Damian has been snappy over the phone lately, and five days ago Damian's school called Grayson. (Grayson was legally his guardian, because his Mother had tried to take his back during his Father's 'death.') But that was nonsense! Yes, perhaps Damian shouldn't have punched the idiotic classmate, but he had assured both Grayson and his Father that the indencent would not repeat itself. Besides, the boy had been practically begging for it. The boy was hurting his dog, after all! No decent owner would do such a thing. Damian cussed himself for believing that two lectures and week of being benched from patrols would be the end of it. Somehow, disappointing Grayson and Father had pained him more than being benched. Grayson hadn't voiced his disappointment, it wasn't in his nature, but Damian wasn't blind either.

Obviously this was a punishment. Yet why not tell him so? The fruitless anticipation has to be included, then. Damian's cheeks warmed as he curled his hands into fists. They knew all along that Grayson wouldn't be visiting, listening and watching Damian silently and childishly count down the days...

"Damian!" a cheerful voice called.

Damian snapped out of his thoughts as he ran to towards Grayson's voice, which Damian will deny to his dying breath. Damian's own voice seemed to be stuck as he saw a beaming Grayson in front of the grandfather clock. Immediately, relief and gratefulness washed the heavy doubts in Damian away. 'So he's truly-'

Hold on. Was that Drake?

It was. Dressed in a grey hoodie and jeans, Drake grimaced beside Grayson as he looked down at Damian. Gordon and Todd was here as well. Gordon was behind Grayson in her wheelchair, smiling, but the most distracting was the bound, gaged and struggling Todd in Grayson's arms.

Damian scowled while crossing his arms. "Grayson, what is the meaning of this?" he demanded. 'Why are they here?'

The idiot grinned proudly. "It's family fun night!" he declares happily, ignoring the fighting Todd for the most part. "Steph and Cass couldn't make it, cause being out of the county kind of hinders coming over tonight, but-"

"Why?" Damian bite out. An unwelcome emotion was swelling inside him. He wanted it and the extras gone. Immediately.

"I just thought it would be more fun with the others-"

'Oh.'

Grayson notices Damain's subtle change, and falters. He puts Todd down, who attempts and fails to trip him, and couches in front of Damian. "Hey," he whispers softly with an open expression and honest eyes.

Damian stiffly avoids looking at him or the others, uncomfortable with the audience. He fought to keep his expression cooled.

"It's not like that, Little D," Grayson told him firmly, yet still gently.

It made Damian angry. Did Grayson think Damian so weak that he would to give into flimsy emotions? So what if the anticipation was only one-sided? So what if Grayson believed him not adequate company, and decide to mend the shortcomings with others? So what if Damian wasn't enough?

"Tim, get Jason and let's go in the sitting room," Gordon says, and Drake obeys by grabbing a hold of Todd and drags him.

"Dude, you gotta lay off the take-outs," Damian heard Drake mutter under his breath.

"I'm fine," Damian lies once the others disappears. "Don't concern yourself."

Grayson grabs Damians jaw so that he faces him, but it isn't painful. 'Of course,' Damian mentally scoffs at the man's ridiculous mindfulness. He swats Grayson's hand away, but keeps his gaze on him.

"Damian," Grayson begins, and Damian is stuck on how serious he currently is. Damian rarely ever sees Grayson serious outside the battlefield. Most of the time he's a silly, sentimental, dramatic buffoon who won't stop touching Damian and won't shut up, yet most of the time says nothing of value, and doesn't stop thinking positive with a permanent smile on his expression.

(Yet, it's his dramatics that secretly amuses Damian, the consent talking that fills the empty and quiet void, the optimism that brightens the situation even the littlest bit, and the smile that says that's everything is okay that helps lighten stress. Although Damian would rather marry Drake than admit it to anyone, much less Grayson himself.)

"You are enough, Little D. And it'll be just you and I for all of tomorrow," he explains, and Damian wonders how Grayson is able to read him so well even when his expression says nothing. It's worrying and troublesome, if Damian was honest. "But I thought it would do the family some good if we all got to hang out for a night."

Damian sniffed haughtily. "Hardly 'all of us' are here, Grayson." But he did feel calm and assured by Grayson's claim. He even felt a bit ridiculous for doubting him in the first place. Now who's the one being dramatic? Grayson does after all spew on about the importance of 'family' often. It was illogical and a waste of time, of course, but a lot of things that Grayson did was.

Grayson chuckled at his remark. "Yeah, I guess so. But hey! Who says we can't have another one once the girls are back?"

Damian allowed his expression to show horror, which Grayson laughed at. 'Drake and Fatgirl?'

"Come on," he stands and beckons for Damian to follow. "Let's go join the others so we can get the part started."

Damian didn't move, though. Simply stared up at Grayson with an arched brow. "And what will I get as compensation?"

"What?" Grayson blinks dumbly.

Damian holds back a sigh. "Did you expect me to simply go along with your, until now, unshared plans? Were you under the illusion that I would willingly interact with Drake of all imbeciles for free?"

Grayson's sheepish expression told Damian that he was hoping for it.

"Tt."

"Ok, how about if I make you a deal?" Grayson suggested. "I won't touch you without consent for the rest of my stay here, if you spend tonight with us and participate in the activities."

Damian crunches his nose in disgust, contrary to the excited leap of his heart he felt. "You think me so cheap?" he demanded. "Make it five months and I'll consider it."

Grayson shakes his head. "How about two weeks?"

"Four months."

"One month."

"Three and a half."

"Two and a half. No more."

Damian considered it. And nodded in agreement. "Deal," they shook on it. Grayson smiled, and Damian added seriously, "I want this in writing however."

Grayson grinned with teeth and laughed again. "Of course you do, Little D. Now come on, I'm sure the others are wondering what the hell is taking us so long."

I will reply to any and all reviews. Please answer these questions:

1) Do you think everyone is in character?

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