Reverse BatFam Trash

I've Been Framed!

Ages:

Damian - 23

Tim - 21

Jason - 18

Dick - 14

"Tim,  get Richard, please." Bruce said, standing from his desk.

"Why?"

"Get your brother." He ordered.

"Kay." Tim ran up the stairs and leaned out the door. "DICK, COME DOWN HERE!"
Almost instantly, Dick shot past him into the cave. "Whoa, Dickie, what's up?" He laughed.

"Jason's being mean!" He yelled, tripping down the stairs as Jason chased him through the door knocking Tim over. 

"Mista J I Got One!" he screamed in his best jersey accent, grabbing Dick from behind and tickling him.

"STOP! STOP IT! I hate you!" He laughed, writhing to escaped his brother.

"Jay, put him down." Tim yelled.

"Richard." Bruce ordered. 

Reluctantly, Jason let him down. "I'll be back after, sugar."

"Jason, stop terrorizing him!" Tim smacked the back of his head.

"You wanted me?" Dick re-parted his hair.

"Dick, did you do this?" Bruce pointed to something under the bat-computer desk.
Dick crawled under the desk and read the graffiti; 'Dear future Robin, do you regret writing this?'

"I didn't do that!"

"No?"

"No, I promise,  I didn't write anything!"

"I work here every day, and I just noticed this for the first time today."

"So?"

"You are currently robin, correct?"

"I'm being framed

"I know what your handwriting looks like."

"Well maybe you need your eyes checked, cause it wasn't me! Maybe it was Jay, or -or Tim..." 

"I'm not an idiot, Dick-"

"ARGUABLE!" Dick barely got the words out before he regretted them.

Jason covered his mouth. "Oooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh."
Tim elbowed his brother, also watching the events with considerable interest.

"What- Whatever, I didn't do it!"
He ran up the stairs, past his brothers, and tried to close the door after him.
The door slammed shut at full force.

FUCK

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Dick was grounded indefinitely. 

If he was on his best behavior, got good grades, and batted his eyelashes, he might get off early (a week, two weeks?), and that was exactly what he planned on doing.

The door was pushed open.
"Jay!" Dick grumbled from the bed, where he'd been laying since Bruce had finished scolding him. "KNOCK."

"Aww, hey- You were great earlier, that was like an episode of the Bachelor!" He laughed. "Why can't you be that interesting ALL the time?"

"I'm grounded."

"It was worth it!"

"No! I was framed, and now I'm grounded!"

"I think you're grounded for back-talking."

"Whatever! I'm here because someone wrote under the desk." He tried to look intimidating.

"Chill, birdie, it wasn't me!" He ruffled Dick's hair. "If it was me, I'd blackmail you to do it and then rat on you!"

"You can't blackmail me!"

"Yeah? Does your little team know why we call you 'pixie boots'?"

Dick shuddered. "Get out!"

"Sure thing, Mista J!"

"Shut up, and Close the-" Dick groaned as Jason ran out, leaving the door ajar.
Dick got up and closed the door, he'd barely returned to his bed when he heard someone else

"Knock, knock." 

"What do you want, Tim?" He moaned into his mattress.

"Can I come in, please? I want to talk to you about earlier."

"Ah, right, the negotiator. Come in."

 Tim entered, and sat next to him on the bed.
"You were really mad earlier, huh?"

"YOU'RE NOT MY THERAPIST, TIM, SAY WHAT YOU'RE HERE TO SAY!"

"Okay, fine." Tim maintained his calm tone. "Why were you so mad about the graffiti being found?"

"I didn't do it, I swear!"

"I believe you..."

"No you don't! Bruce sent you up here to interrogate me!"

"I'm not here cause of Bruce, cross my heart." It was a half-lie and his brother could tell.

"I Didn't write it, Dad was really insistent, and I got fed up of being accused, so I talked back, that's all!"

"I believe you."

"Tim, get out, talk about this when you're on my side."

"Dick-"

"Get out."

Tim patted his head. "Goodnight, We'll talk in the morning?"

"Sure. Get Out." Dick waited for him to move. He heard another sound in the doorway.
"Timmy, I said-"

"I'm not Drake."

He shifted a little to look up. "Dami? come to kick me while I'm down?"

"I heard what happened."

"Swell."

"You said a lot of stupid things." 

"Thanks, I try."

"And I know you didn't write that."

"...Really?" He moved to sit up, Damian besides him on the door. "YES, Right? I didn't do it!"

"I wrote it."

 Dick paused. "What?"

"I wrote that shortly before Timothy became Robin. I thought it would gt him in trouble. I didn't predict yet another Robin, Todd, much less you."

"Why didn't Bruce see it?" Dick felt SO validated.

"Father was probably too busy being overwhelmed by us."

Dick swept his hair back. "Well Go! Go tell dad you wrote it!"

"There's no point, seeing as though you got grounded for talking back to him." Damian stood up and tried to leave.

"PLEASE."

"Perhaps," Damian lingered, just outside Dick's room. "I'll consider it..."