The Signal comes to a stop the third time the same kid appears in his field of vision, obviously keeping up somehow besides the fact that they’re both ten stories up and the other boy doesn’t have any obvious grappling hook.
This can’t be a coincidence.
The kid sees him staring and waves a little awkwardly across the rooftops, shifting on anxious feet before stilling and crossing his arms, hopping up and down a bit.
Duke looks around, making sure there’s no other person that the boy might be staring at, and then swings across to stand next to him.
“Hello!” the kid calls, smile blinding, and Duke blinks because what the hell-
The kid, somehow, brightens up even more.
“Yes, actually, I’m looking for the batcave?”
Duke blinks. Stares. Blinks again.
What’s he supposed to do in this situation? Pat the kid on the head and tell him to go bye-bye? Knock him unconscious and interrogate him? Swing away without saying anything?
He doesn’t know, and he can’t ask anyone because they’re all- besides Damian and Alfred- on a league mission with strict radio silence protocols except in dire emergencies, and Duke doesn’t think this counts.
Think, think, what would Batman do-
Before he can come to a conclusion, however, the kid slaps himself on the forehead with a resounding smack and then reaches out to grab one of Duke’s own hands, his fingers disturbingly small against yellow armoured ones.
“Where are my manners!? I’m John. Nice to meet you! Damia- I mean, err- I mean Robin talks about you all the time!”
And, of course, that adds a whole new level of complexity to this whole thing, because why the hell does some kid in worn out jeans and dirtied up tennis shoes know Robin’s secret identity? If Damian were any other child, Duke might think that he just spilled the beans to look cool, but that so does not fit in with Damian’s personality at all so he’s left, again, in a state of general confusion and anxiety.
Think rationally about this.
Duke peers closer at the kid. Black hair and blue eyes. That seems right up Bruce’s alley, and he knows for a fact that there are some members of the Bats’ abbreviated family that he has not met, including some members from the future or alternate timelines or whacked up things like that.
So maybe this kid was one of those?
Duke didn’t even know anymore. How did this become his life?
You asked for it, he thinks, and then internally sighs.
“Alright,” he says, and John’s face lights up like a Christmas tree.
So they go to the Batcave, the kid jabbering the entire time, and Duke nods and responds and internally worries because he has no idea what he’s doing, if this is the right course of action, and by the time he gets back to home base he’s on the edge of full out panic.
This is not helped when, upon arriving, Damian magically appears before him, scrutinizes Duke a little too closely for him to call it comfortable, nods once, and then flipping vanishes with John.
Duke sighs and takes off his cowl, decides that that’s enough confusion for the day and heads up to his room to watch some cartoons, because at this point anything else more complicated might melt his brain.
And that’s the end of it.
Except, you know, the point where it’s not.
Because five hours later, Duke is going through some stretches on the mats and there’s a loud yelp, and by the time Duke arrives at the right enclave- because no matter what all the other kids say the Batcave is a freaking maze- John is cowering behind Damian, who, in turn, is glaring up at his father, and Batman is watching the two of them with an unimpressed gaze while the rest of the batclan watches on behind him.
“Jonathan Kent. Who gave you permission to be in the Batcave?”
Kent. The kid’s last name was Kent.
The kid lets out a nervous chuckle, and Duke internally sighs before stepping forwards and raising his hand.
“It was- uh- me, actually. I was the one who let him in.”
The collective gaze of the entire family comes to rest on him, and Duke resists the urge to finger gun because now is so not the time.
“Why would you think it was okay to let him in?”
Duke clears his throat. Shifts his feet. He should probably make something up, but at the same time this is Batman so he highly doubts he could get away with it.
And so, without further ado, he sort of rubs his neck and turns his gaze upwards before letting out a quiet sort of, “He, uh, he has black hair and blue eyes and I suppose I just sort of figured that, well- eh-”
Jason has started laughing, which is so not helpful, but Duke pushes through anyways.
“I just sort of figured that he was another one of yours?”
Silence settles amongst them, John looking back and forth from the two parties like it is a tennis match as the rest of the kids watch on with ever growing anticipation.
Bruce just slowly turns to look at the crowd of blue-eyed, black-haired kids behind him, stares at them for a few moments, before turning back to Duke.
And then he sweeps past them all to get changed while the rest of the cave lights up with laughter.
And Duke doesn’t know quite what he’s doing. Doesn’t know quite where he fits in with this mess of a family. But Dick is ruffling his hair and Jason is in hysterics in the corner, Damian is giving him this small little pleased smirk while John continues to watch in confusion, and Tim has started crowing that he’s got it on film, and Duke…
Duke figures that if he has this, if he has this, then there’s more than enough to start.
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