-Details in part one-
-Requests always open-
"Hey, WAKE UP." Jason landed on his brother's sleeping body.
"Wh- fuck-what?"
"We're going through Tim's old photo files downstairs."
"We went to bed like, two hours ago!" Dick squinted at his clock. "It's like five am."
"Exactly, you should be up and training." Jason shook his brother.
"It's my off-day, my only chance to sleep in!" Dick threw this covers off. He hated spending time at the manor specifically for reasons like this...
"Get you're sub-par ass downstairs."
"My ass is MORE than sub-par!" Dick hauled on a sweatshirt and chased Jason downstairs.
"My ass is NOT sub-par, Jay! It is world renowned."
He chased his big brother into a living room full of siblings. Steph and Tim broke into laughter.
"So that's how you wake him up!" Barbra grinned. "Sit down, Dick, we've got some good content!"
Everyone shifted aside on the couch; youngest brother present has to sit in the middle. Barbra was clicking through old photo files on Tim's laptop. The first photo was just a photo or Tim with THE CAMPIEST HAIRCUT.
"Oh. So this was... Sophomore year." Tim sounded full of regret.
"UGLY ASS!" Jason laughed, biting into his forgotten toaster strudel (Alfred would kill him if he knew).
"So, just getting things straight, in these photos; Demon is about eighteen, me and Steph are sixteen, Jason was probably thirteen, and -uh..."
"I'm twelve, and Dickie's either eight or nine." Barbra finished.
"Yeah, listen to Babs, she's smart."
Barbra clicked through some old photos, a lot of them were just pretty landscapes. She finally clicked to a different photo; a very young, traffic light, Robin, swinging on an empty swing set at night.
"PIXIE BOOTS! PIXIE BOOTS! PIXIE BOOTS!" Jason chanted, wiping crumbs from around his mouth.
"rObin!" Stephanie squealed. "AH! He's TINY!"
"Remember when you didn't have to shave your legs?" Jason elbowed Dick, who was very cramped in the middle of the couch.
A voice spoke up behind them. "You were adorable in that costume."
"BRUCE." Dick's head lolled back, he hid his face in his hands.
"I thought you were out." Stephanie tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
"I'm just going, I'll be back in a few minutes." Their father finished doing up his coat and headed out to the foyer.
"Thank god I had my costume changed when I turned twelve." The youngest bat cringed. "Next photo, Babs."
The next photo was glorious; Robin, Batgirl, and Red Hood, sitting in an alleyway 'round back of the GCPD, they were chatting, and Batgirl was sipping from a soda cup.
"Holy crap, is this a candid shot?" Barbra grinned. "Cause it's gorgeous! How did you get this? I could NOT sit still back then."
"You can't not sit still now..." Jason mumbled. Tim leaned over Dick to smack Jason.
"What the fuck, Jay!" Dick and Stephanie chorused.
"You're going to hell, Todd." Damian growled stiffly.
"Sorry! I wasn't thinking, it just slipped out!" He begged.
"At least commit to the joke, you shithead." Barbra turned in her wheelchair and flipped him off. "When my surgery is successful, I'm going to literally kick your ass!" She yelled, turning back and switching to the next photo.
Next photo was an action shot; eight-year-old Richard Grayson pointing a toy gun at Jason, who had his hands up in surrender.
Both brothers turned pink.
"I thought the great NightWing didn't use guns." The elder taunted.
"I thought Red Hood didn't surrender." The younger fired back.
"I was probably just sparing your precious little feelings, you always got so upset every time I beat you!"
"Congrats, you could punch a kid!"
"I can still punch a kid." He grabbed at Dick's sweatshirt collar.
"Break it up!" Tim leaned around the back of the couch, puling them apart.
"Sure, I don't want him to go crying to B."
"I AM TWENTY." Dick stated.
The next photo was not taken by Tim, in fact, Tim was IN the photo; curled in the fetal position, hugging a pillow. He wasn't alone; Damian was slumped across the master bed where they were sleeping, Jason was star-fished over half the bed, and was gripping onto the arm of... someone, presumably Dick, who'd been pushed off the bed. The time stamp put it as about two am.
"Did I take this?" Barbra asked. "I slept over here, like, ALL the time."
"Now, it's too tall for you." Dick observed.
"I hope it isn't who I think."
"Who?" Barbra asked.
Tim sighed passively. "It was probably Dad."
There was a silent realization, it totally was, and they were never letting their father see this photo.
"We aren't going to show ANYONE these photos, right?" Dick asked.
"We gotta delete the source material." Jason squinted, disgusted.
"No," Damian cut in, scowling at the photo. "We need to bury the whole computer."
"Yes!" Dick panted jokingly.
His brother shoved him into Tim again so that neither of them had enough room "Why are you complaining? You're barely in the pic! You're on the floor."
Tim shoved Dick back into Jason. "Yeah, you two used to fight in your sleep, you'd kick and pull hair and stuff while out cold."
"Don't act so pretentious, Drake, you did it too."
Dick tried to stabilize himself while being shoved back-and-forth. "What, I don't remember that?"
"You could not be asleep in the same room." Barbra confirmed. "Once I woke up at a sleepover, Dick had the duvets and Jason had us both by the hair."
"Dang, sorry, why didn't you tell me?"
"I honestly thought I'd imagined it until now." She laughed.
"Well, my childhood dreams make a LOT more sense..." Dick admitted.
The next photo was of Jason, proudly holding up a gold-plated plaque. They had to squint to read what it said. It was a memorial plaque; HIS memorial plaque.
"My thirteen-year-old humor was ON POINT."
"This is only a few months after you died." Damian pointed out. "Your sense of humor was asking us what was 'up' with our mourning."
"Aww, Demon, You mourned for me?"
Barbra quickly clicked through about fourteen consecutive city-scapes, most of which were taken at -or past- midnight. The next, after those, was an adorable picture of Dick and Jason in the same poses with their respective redheads.
"That's SO cute." She smiled. "And you two still thought you were straight at that point."
The next was everyone, sans Dick and Babs posing by a poster for the middleschool's end-of-year fair and talent show.
"Ooh, man, I remember that!" Dick broke away from arguing with his brothers. "We slayed! ...What did we do again?"
"We did a skit."
"Oh, yeah, the Drive-in skit! we almost got in trouble cause your character was smoking! Man, Mr. Ceido was THE WORST! SORRY, but, he was."
Barbra clicked to a picture of Jay, Roy and Babs in their Heathers Halloween costumes -complete with 'drain cleaner' and croquet mallets.
"Those costumes were awesome! I swear gave B a heart attack when I started chugging that Clorax stuff!" Jason cackled.
"You gave all of us heart attacks that night." Tim spat. "Especially poor Dick and Wally."
"Wait, what did I do to Dick?"
The next photo was of each brother with his arm around their redhead, except for Tim, who didn't have a ginger best friend. Instead, He had his hand on Barbra's head.
After that was an artistic picture of a cake with a huge number 9 on it. After that one, all four brother's standing with a cluster of eight adults; Dianna, Clark, Hal, Arthur, J'onn, Oliver Q, Barry, and Bruce, obviously.
"Ehh, the JL." Tim observed "Remember when we could still round it down to eight members? Now we can't even round it down to sixteen."
"They've expanded a lot over the past ten years." Damian reached over her shoulder to click to the next picture.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Are you still at it?"
"Hey, Bruce, check it out! Isn't that a throwback?" Stephanie leaned on the back of the couch.
The photo was of Tim and Stephanie participating in their school's spirit week, theme: country vs. country club. Tim was in all-out rich kid garb, while Steph had a cowboy hat perched on her blonde braids.
"For sure. By the way, it's breakfast time."