Raising Robins

A Mouthful of Soap

Dick Grayson had been living in the manor for 3 years before Bruce heard him curse. Jason cursed within a day of being at the Manor. And Tim, well Tim only started cursing when Damian came to live with his new adoptive brothers and the cursing between the two usually was just directed at each other.

Alfred, the loyal family butler, raised Bruce after the murder of his parents. He washed Bruce's mouth out ONCE and Bruce minded his words. He figured that was how most kids worked- punishments and rewards. He had been caned only once, slippered only once, and grounded only once... or twice... okay, Bruce was grounded a few times growing up.

Now Bruce was 46 and getting tired of his kid's mouths. It was bad enough that Dick proclaimed that he was an "adult" now that he was eighteen and was getting a bit "big for his britches" as one would say. Jason was sixteen, Tim was fourteen, and Damian, the youngest (and a hellion like Jay) was nearing eleven years old.

All of the boys had come to Bruce one way or another. It all started with young Mr. Richard Grayson, an acrobat whose parents had been murdered in the circus, as it moved through Gotham. Dick was the ray of sunshine around the place. He was witty and Jason called him the "Golden Boy". He was never much trouble. Especially as Robin, out on patrol. Unless he wanted to piss someone off. And that someone was typically Bruce throughout Dick's terrible rapid puberty progression in middle school. Now he was a senior and summer was coming up soon. He couldn't wait to go out and fight crime on school nights as Nightwing. Of course, he wouldn't give up crime fighting, so Bruce was making him get a job if he wasn't going to college yet.

Jason Todd was 12 when Bruce caught him stealing- or trying to- steal the hubcaps off of the Batmobile. His parents were dead. His "friends" got him into pot early and he was constantly trying to steal money to get more. It was finally after a sound spanking that he stopped. He now was "too old to be spanked" and other than every damn time Bruce found a gun, his bottom was pretty much spared. Boy, did he have a mouth, though.

Tim Drake was an angry kid. Even angrier than Jason. Tim's parents weren't dead, but they were dead to him. Tim was given up as soon as he turned 9 and bounced around in foster homes for 2 years before he caught on to Bruce's secret identity. He even knew that Dick was Robin back then. He was truly the "World's Greatest Detective" and that got him into trouble a lot, but not much anymore. He was happy now. Lighthearted, but still a smartass. He became moodier after Damian appeared though, and they shared the mantle of Robin before Tim also like Jason and Dick, took over with another persona: Red Robin.

Damian Thomas Al Ghul Wayne was a cold-hearted assassin. Grandson of the Demon Head, Ra's Al Ghul, who lived in the Middle East and trained Damian as an assassin with his daughter, Damian's mother, Talia. Bruce didn't know he had a son until Damian turned ten... or what his son had become. Justice, not vengeance. That's what Bruce taught him. At ten-years-old, Damian had a kill count. Not since he arrived though. Damian had rarely been punished. Now he was eleven. Sure, he got grounded. A lot. But he believed himself the favorite. And that's when the cursing started.

Breakfast was ready at seven, every morning. The boys trained starting at four, save for Jason, who stayed up all night on his computer and just shot shit up with rubber bullets late at night when he wasn't on patrol. The boys all got one school night shift and they were allowed out all of Friday, Saturday, and Sunday until midnight. They and their mouths had just arrived.

"It's the fucking asscrack of dawn." Jason yawned, heading down the stairs as his brothers walked down before him having showered and changed into their Gotham Academy uniforms. He was in his uniform too, sleeves rolled up, tie untied.

"I didn't fucking sleep. Damian was screaming again." Tim griped.

"Fuck off, Orphan." Damian snapped.