Chapter Text
Tony Stark is twenty one when his parents pass away.
Anthony Wayne is ten years old when only Bruce comes back from the theatre.
Tony Stark had died to save humanity from Thanos. He will just have to trust the Avengers to handle the rest.
It’s the only choice he has left.
Realizing that his dreams are Tony Stark’s memories surprised him less than one would initially think.
New York was a disaster; why can’t reincarnation be possible?
The shocking factor is coming to the conclusion that he’s in the DC universe. Batman had been his favorite franchise as Tony Stark, he grew up reading the comics. He had taken part in calling the phone number provided to vote to kill off Jason Todd. While he talked big then, he cried a lot when the writers actually went through with it.
Tony is not sure whether its bad luck to be reborn as Batman’s older brother, Anthony Edward Wayne.
The day his family went to the theaters without him, he wanted to beg them to stay. But he didn’t. He could’ve. But what would become of Batman, he had asked himself and that thought had made him nauseous. Why did he have to follow the plot then? His whole existence disturbs the storyline.
It took a while for people to start calling him Tony, something about propriety and the social class difference. Though that butler of his has yet to cave in.
A part of Tony thinks that Dr. Strange had a hand in his placement in the DC universe. The wizard was more soft-hearted than he’d like to admit. Tony had even lended him some of his worn copies.
Gotham isn’t so bad. Granted, he’s rich and has access to multiple things that aren’t available to any other Gothamite.
There’s no Pepper, Morgan, Happy or Peter. He’ll turn to the other side of the bed expecting to see Pepper facing him, despite how many times this repeats, he remains disappointed. Sometimes when he closes the fridge, he looks for a little doodle on the family calendar by Morgan. When Alfred is his chauffeur, his eyes would be drawn to the rear view mirror. Tony’s stomach will churn when he doesn’t find Happy’s eyes. Tony has to do a double take when he sees a elderly lady with his hands full of groceries, the first question that comes to mind is ‘Where is Peter?’
As a child Tony read about Batburger and he had always wished to try it. It’s too bad that it won’t exist for another couple of years.
Timothy Drake’s parents didn’t teach him to not open the door for strangers but the internet did.
And he sure as hell never opened the door for the eldest Wayne.
Anthony Edward Wayne.
An enigma in Gotham’s social circles. He’s more myth than man.
The eldest Wayne brother is often regarded with a hint of exasperation.
His parents, Martha and Thomas Wayne passed away when he was ten years old. Before that, he was regarded as well behaved by the media. He won’t make an appearance in the media til he’s sixteen. From then on, he’ll be making headlines every weekend. From being involved in the most random dating scandals to have a drunk fit.
“It’s because he has no parents to guide him.” They’ll whisper behind cupped hands. “I pity his family. The Waynes have fallen from grace due to that son of theirs. Martha and Thomas would surely faint if they saw their boy.’
It all changes when he turns twenty-two. He had disappeared from the media without a trace. Articles will slowly become erased from the paper with an exception of a handful.
Taking his place in the spotlight is his younger brother, Bruce Wayne. The media is grateful that he is tamer than his older brother, though not by much.
Adorned in a custom tailored suit, he lounges on a vintage loveseat with his feet kicked up on the coffee table, the oldest Wayne son throws him a grin. He’s flipping through the channels on the TV mounted to the wall before he decides on a soap opera.
”Are your parents here?” He questions, his eyes drifting towards Timothy standing at the doorway of the living room before fixing a look at his rolex. “I had a meeting at noon.” It’s four in the afternoon.
“They are on a business trip in Shanghai. I can give you their number if it is urgent, Mr. Wayne.” Timothy frowns, his hand reaching to rub the back of his neck. He feels uncomfortable. There isn’t much online about Anthony Wayne that’s up to date, he’s no longer the party goer that he was a decade ago.
“Just call me Tony, kid. Don’t mind the formalities, it’s more insulting.” Tony laughs, though his eyes giveaway his unease. “So it's just you and your nanny?”
Timothy has yet to move from his place at the doorway. “Ah…sure.” The curious tilt of Tony’s head makes him feel pressured to continue. “It’s just me.” He admits, his eyes are drawn to the window.
Leaning forward, Tony frowns, “Don’t all rich brats have nannies?” He waves around the remote to punctuate his words.
Tim did have a nanny once. However his parents fired her after Tim attended kindergarten, stating that he was a big kid now and he can take care of himself. Tim had thought it was a good thing, always wanting to be seen as more than just a little kid. Nowadays, not so much.
With empty estate, comes lonely nights.
“How did you get in?” Tim furrows his eyebrows, his fingers tighten into a fist. He had to redirect the conversation before they could delve deeper into Janet and Jack's neglect.
Tony raised an eyebrow, looking over his shoulder at the direction of the front door. He turned back to Tim, his expression sheepish. “Your door was unlocked?….Jeez don't look at me like that, okay I lock picked it.”
Tim sighed, pressing a finger between his eyebrows like his mother once had to relax his furrowed eyebrows. “Do you always break into someone's house?”
Tony tapped a finger on his knee in a rhythm, “Only when it's convenient. No one was answering the door.” He shrugs, unashamed.
“…Errr…Tony, you should be careful whose house you break into. We are in Gotham.”
“Awww is little Tammy worried about me?” Tony teases, his voice obnoxiously pitches itself, in a way that would normally embarrass Peter and amuse his friends. “Don’t worry about anything. There’s no one who’s on par with me.”
“Even Batman?” Tim childishly asks, crossing his arms. He doesn’t even bother to try to correct the pronunciation of his name. If there’s one thing he learned from the forums and his parents rants, it’s that no matter how much you correct Tony, he’ll call you whatever he likes.
”Yup, especially that old bat.” Tony laughs, throwing his head back against the sofa.
“I don't believe you.”
Tony wipes a tear from the corners of his eye from laughing. ”Jeez kid, he’s your hero or something? ‘Cause there’s no doubt I would win.”
Tim’s cheeks flushes a dusty pink hue, his eyes darting away from Tony’s relaxed figure.
”He totally is.” Tony points out after his silence. Which Tim does not deny. Tony sighs, “Can’t blame you.”
Tim leans against the doorway, he purses his lips in thought. The cuff of his baggy jeans is slowly unfurling as the conversation continues.
There’s a moment of silence between them. The soap opera has become a buzz in the background.
“Forgive me for asking, I don’t have siblings. Does the joke that you can beat Batman stem from sibling rivalry?”
“What?” Tony turns off the TV.
”…You do know Bruce Wayne is Batman…right?” Tim observed the dawning horror etched on Tony’s face. He straightens his stance. “…He didn’t tell you? But you’re his brother.”
Tony shakes out of whatever trance he was in. How could he forget that Tim had figured out the identities already? “I know my brother is Batman. But how do you know?”
”What? Like it’s hard?”