Chapter Text
Damian almost — almost — thanked God when they left the police station. Now he would not be surrounded by people who, although they might be considered ordinary in comparison to his lifestyle, still knew how to handle weapons and take him down if necessary. Even more so in his current state.
However, it was still not so relieving, since after leaving there he got into the car of this other policeman, Grayson. And now he was sitting in the passenger seat as he drove them to his house. Damian came to the conclusion that he was unlucky and Grayson an idiot. I mean, he was driving him to his house? He didn't even know him. The policeman said something about temporary guardianship, and even though he was, at first glance, an ordinary child, he was still stupid to be getting so carried away by emotion like this.
Damian didn't need help, at least not like this. He didn't need it, and he didn't want it; he had managed quite well on his own. Getting people involved would only mean unnecessary deaths, and having grown up in a place surrounded by death and, well , murderers, Damian never particularly liked that. He did it because it was necessary, that's what he learned, not something he enjoyed.
His first death still haunts his nights of sleep.
The throaty gasp of the man next to him brought Damian out of his thoughts and he scolded himself for being so scattered. He was still very tired and the nap wasn't enough, but he wouldn't admit it.
- So... I was thinking, since you'll be staying with me for an indefinite time. Do you like bowling? - Dick asked, clearly nervous about starting a conversation. - I was thinking that we could go bowling, and I know a great place for us. But it doesn't have to be today! - he cut himself off, as if he had thought of something logical. He continued, expressive and gesturing without taking his eyes off the street. I just meant because, yeah, I don't want you to think I'm trying to force a relationship or anything, I just... want you to feel comfortable while you're with me.
Damian wanted to laugh at the policeman's embarrassed manner. Although he didn't know exactly how to respond to him. His social skills had never been good and hadn't improved after he ran away from the league. He just shrugged and said softly.
- I never bowled.
Dick looked at him in a corner, looking surprised that he actually answered.
- But would you like to try it someday? - he asked expectantly.
Damian thought about automatically answering a big dry no, but he thought again. It wasn't for lack of desire that he didn't enjoy his "trips" around the world, or the tranquility of something simple like playing a game or going to the movies. It was fear. He could not falter and allow himself to be caught. Having these moments would make him let his guard down, could bring conflict in inappropriate places, Damian had already caused too much damage where he went, and he blamed himself so much for that. On top of all this, he never really thought about doing these things just for fun, he didn't enjoy himself, he didn't have time for it. Survival cost him a lot of his time and energy, it was his priority.
And now, with this policeman, Damian didn't plan to stay. He would leave the moment his wound was better. The less time in one place, the better. He had learned this the hard way and didn't want to make another innocent person pay the price. And then there was the issue of trust... Damian had once trusted people and the result of that was so... catastrophic. This policeman might have had the most innocent and gentle air in the world, Damian still couldn't read minds and had a terrible track record for trusting anyone.
However, while he was here, he would try to act as close to normal as possible. He definitely didn't want any questions.
- I don't see why not," Damian turned and propped his face up to look at the street through the closed window.
Dick cracked a huge smile that stuck to his face the rest of the way. Damian was even more certain, he was an idiot.
But he still wouldn't trust this idiot.
~×~
The boy analyzed everything , Dick observed. It wasn't the kind of curious analysis, the kind where you look at everything with expectation or excitement, waiting and seeing if it's like or different from what you expect. Damian watched with trained eyes, as if he knew exactly where to look. Dick knew what that was, he had done it thousands of times when he was somewhere unknown due to missions. Distrust. Fear . The need to know where the exit or entrance was, the spots to hide, the locks to pick. Dick knew this kind of behavior.
This boy was not normal. Dick knew it the moment he saw that cut, that fierce look in his eyes. The fear in his words when they exchanged few at the police station.
" You don't understand, cop..."
And maybe Richard Grayson really didn't understand, but Nightwing did. However, that part would have to wait a little longer.
As Damian was watching the window, Dick called out to him. Another interesting thing, he really just looked, he didn't touch anything. Not only that, he was tense, almost as if touching something was bad, he was hesitant to take any further steps as well, even though his eyes rounded every little corner of the living room. Dick could see that he was afraid, it was clear. The boy could try to disguise and hide it from any normal person, but Dick was anything but normal. He began the mental note.
Distrust.
Fear.
Hesitation.
Perspicacity.
- I have a guest room, that's where you'll stay. Come with me, I'll show you," Dick called quietly.
Damian nodded and walked after him. It was a short walk; his apartment was not large. It was the typical simple one, and it was a bit messy, he had to admit. Dick wasn't expecting visitors.
The entrance door led straight into the small living room with the 40-inch TV on top of the wooden cabinet stuck to the wall. In the living room was a large window overlooking the city, whose curtain was open. A three-seater sofa and an armchair in the corner, plus the gray fluffy rug and the classic coffee table in the center.
The kitchen was small, too; there was no table, just the counter with three high chairs. Behind the counter was the stone with the sink and underneath the stove, behind the refrigerator and in the corner a washing machine. There was also a microwave oven. Straight ahead was a small hallway, where there were three doors. To the right was Dick's room, to the left was the guest room and at the end was the door that led to the bathroom. He explained to Damian that his room would be across the hall from his, and if he needed anything, just call.
Dick opened the door to the guest room and gave Damian room to explore. There was a very spacious single bed, with untouched, beige blankets. The bed was near the small window on the left, which had a seat on it and two pillows. A three-door closet on the right and a nightstand with its drawers on the side of the bed.
Dick tried to gauge Damian's reaction, but it was difficult to read the boy's facial expressions, since he hardly made any. It was much easier to read him by the way he behaved than by his face, which was always inexpressive. The only significant reaction was at the police station. In general, he was neutral, almost stoic. Damian looked into the room, but didn't take a step far past the door, and again his eyes caught every corner.
Dick entered, comfortably pacing the room and hoping Damian would do the same. It didn't work, and he held back a sigh.
- Don't worry, there aren't any laser traps around here," Dick said relaxedly. He could notice a slight twitch in Damian's eyes.
If Dick wasn't an ever vigilant watcher, he wouldn't notice anything.
- Here in the closet are some of my brother's clothes. He used to sleep here when he was younger, you know? - he said casually as he opened the closet, "I think they're going to be a little big, but they'll fit until we get you some new clothes. - Dick opened the closet and held out a red shirt to show her.
- Not necessary, I already have some clothes in my bag," Damian replied, his voice so centered that it didn't sound like casual conversation. He removed the bag from his back and held it out as if to explain everything.
Dick smiled gently and said as much as he could without being rude.
- I know, Damian. We checked your bag at the police station, it's standard protocol, you understand? - And... well, your clothes aren't in the best condition. I think it would be more comfortable for you to wear clean, newer clothes.
Dick could almost see the confusion in the boy's fierce gaze. As if he were debating a very serious question in his little head. He frowned, very slightly in doubt. And he was again wandering in the fact that the boy was ridiculously cute.
But in the end, he said again.
- I feel comfortable in these clothes. No need to worry. And they're not that dirty, I just washed them a little while ago. Dick caught that reaction.
" He's afraid. Why is he afraid?" Dick thought and came to two conclusions. Either he was simply still closed off because it was a new environment, or....
- I'm not doing this with any ulterior motives," Dick explained, his voice neutral. The boy stared minimally for a second.
Dick smiled triumphantly inside. On the fly!
- I don't really know what you've been through, or who you've been through it with. But I said it before and I'm saying it again now, I just want to help you. I promise, I don't want anything in return." Dick lowered his shirt, eyes bright and kind.
A long minute passed. Dick didn't force him to talk or ask any more questions, waiting patiently for the boy's own time. When the second minute was up, he figured there would be nothing more to say or do for now. And as he turned to pack his clothes in the closet, Damia spoke, very low.
- Why? - he had his eyes turned to some corner, his backpack pressed against his chest protectively.
Dick smiled kindly, the corner of his eyes crinkling just a little.
- Why not?
He saw the boy frown even more sharply. Apparently he really couldn't understand an act of help.
Damian opened his mouth to speak or ask something, but his voice didn't come out. Instead, he simply put down his backpack and raised his gaze minimally.
- I'll... I'll take the clothes, sir. Thank you.
Dick smiled brightly.
- Great! How about a shower then? I was thinking of ordering a nice pizza for dinner. And we'd miss watching a movie too! Who needs an early night, right? - he turned to the closet and picked up a change of clothes, still very excited, and handed them to Damian. - Go take a shower, and in the meantime I'll order pizza and watch what's good on Netflix. Feel free to ask if you need anything. There are towels under the sink and soap in the cupboard. Take care of the stitches too, do you need help with anything about that?
Damian nodded and left the room, heading towards the bathroom.
~×~
Damian was looking at himself in the mirror on the closet door, facing away from the door. His hair was damp from his recent shower, his cut carefully bandaged by the policeman after he got out of the shower, even though he protested, Grayson insisted on helping. And he was wearing one of his brother's sweatshirts. It was big, it hit a little above his knees, but it was comfortable.
God, it was so, so comfortable . How long had it been since he had felt this comfortable? Warm, clean, and... not . He still didn't feel safe. Dick Grayson, that man might be showing every indication of trust. That he would not hurt him, that he would not deceive him. Damian was still afraid. Afraid of hurting himself, afraid of hurting him . It was dangerous for both of them to be close.
Damian had been in Bludhaven for about two, almost three days. His grandfather's ninjas were more desperate, that meant that Grandpa was too. This was not good. Damian didn't know how much longer exactly he could stay here, less than a month probably.
One thing was clear, he should leave before that happened. Before the league came after him. It was risky to put another innocent person's life at risk. And while he didn't trust the cop, he was an ordinary civilian, maybe he really didn't have bad intentions, so he couldn't stay.
For Damian, it was always so hard to trust people. They always want something in return, there were few who didn't demand anything.
Pamela Sales, the girl he lived with for five whole months, almost six, was the only person, besides his mother, that he really felt comfortable with. He felt safe, which was funny, because she wasn't a cop like Grayson, she was even more ordinary.
With only her half-finished motorhome and a dream of performing around the world, she had such a sweet smile. Damian remembered her talking nonsense, rambling out of nowhere and always saying that he could trust her. Grayson reminded him of her. This was not good.
At the same time he was afraid of it. He was slow to trust her, and at first only stayed because he wanted a ride. I mean, getting on a stranger's bus to get a ride didn't seem as bad as dying in the middle of nowhere on a Texas highway. So it seemed like a win-win, and she looked like an ordinary civilian who just wanted to lend a hand. Damian was more naive and was desperate, it was the perfect combo.
But, well... that was before the episode in Venezuela. Thinking about it made his stomach turn, he still had nightmares and so, so much fear...
Damian looked in the mirror and noticed that his hands were shaking. He quickly put them together and stopped the shaking. He closed his eyes trying to erase the horrible memories and took a deep breath, pushing the image, the bad feelings away... when he opened his eyes, all he saw was himself in the mirror. His tired expression, adorned by dark circles under his eyes. Her heart eased a little. He wasn't there.
Damian closed the closet door as soon as he heard the knocking on the door. He was internally grateful that his privacy was respected. He answered a low "Come in," thankfully the policeman heard.
- I wanted to ask how you are and tell you that the pizza has arrived. Are you coming? - he asked leaning on the door.
Damian felt his stomach rumble. That burger earlier had been very good, but not good enough to make up for three days of not eating. He nodded, and Grayson brightened again. How could he smile so much?
They both sat down in the living room. On the TV was a movie Damian had never seen, but there was something about a blond girl and a tower. The pizza box was on the small coffee table, along with two cans of soda. Damian checked the can, seeing if it was fully sealed, and only started eating after it.
Ah, this was one thing that set him apart from Pamela and at the same time made Damian apprehensive. He could see the innocent look on the policeman's face, the smiles, the animated voice. But Damian knew how to see smart eyes. Dick Grayson's blue eyes were piercing, they could make anyone think he was sloppy, even inattentive, with this casual, animated look. However, he was analytical, discreetly observant.
Graysons was a policeman, after all. Maybe that was it, maybe there was something more. Maybe there was nothing, and it was just Damian's paranoia speaking up. But one thing was certain, Richard Grayson was not ordinary. In any sense, he was anything but ordinary.
Damian just didn't know if this was good or bad.
He tried not to think about it for now, he just turned his attention back to the television, trying to understand the scene that was the man fighting with a... why a frying pan?