Chapter Text
Tim was beyond furious.
He was mad at Bruce, at everyone, for allowing Damian to spiral so far to the point where the boy would feel compelled to almost take his own life just to end the suffering.
(He was mad at himself.)
Tim should had seen the signs. How Damian’s well-being was deteriorating every time he visited the manor to make sure Bruce wasn’t doing anything reckless out of grief (as usual) and to make sure Damian was still there and hadn’t run off. Tim felt guilty that he hadn’t tried harder to take care of the latter, but he’d been caught up in his own mourning to truly notice the target of his affections crumbling mentally.
He should had taken Damian away after that one time when he rushed into the younger’s room and witnessed him having a panic attack.
Tim was angry, tired, and scared. Out of everyone in the family, he’d always been their emotional rock and keep their already dysfunctional bond from breaking every time tragedy fell upon them. Dick was better at it than him though, but he was no longer here.
And that made Tim’s blood boil, because Ric Grayson was just one of the sources of Damian’s downward spiral.
First Heretic, then Spyral, and now Ric. How many more times was Dick going to continue hurting their youngest, whether it was direct or not?
Tim grinded his teeth when Damian sobbed into his shirt during another one of his episodes, his arms wound tight around his smaller frame. His cries made the older’s heart wrench painfully inside his chest. Tim wished he didn’t admire Dick so much. Maybe then the boy wouldn’t be so heartbroken over their oldest.
He hated seeing Damian in pain.
And then there was the matter of Bruce.
Tim was livid when he stormed back into the manor to collect Damian’s things, since he wasn’t leaving his apartment anytime soon (He wouldn’t let him. It was better that Dami stayed with him). The man had the audacity to ask if Tim had found Damian and asked if he could see him to lecture him about running off on his own. It took everything in him to not sock his adoptive father in the jaw.
“I don’t want you anywhere near Damian,” Tim spat. “You didn’t give a shit about him when he was still here, and now you want to talk to him just to berate him? Yeah, not happening.”
Bruce was baffled, and the younger man didn’t blame him. He’d never spoken to him in such a tone before, not even when they had disagreements in the past. But Bruce had irresponsibly neglected Damian, his own son, during his brooding over Alfred’s death, and he’d indirectly pushed the Baby Bat closer to the edge of self-destruction. Tim could still hear the Damian’s frightful words bouncing around in his head.
“He must hate me so much, Drake,” The boy choked. “Father hates me for being a monster, a demon child that he never wanted. All I ever wanted was his recognition. I cannot bare this any longer.”
Tim’s hands balled into tight fists, his nails digging into his palms.
“He’s staying with me now. You clearly don’t care about him enough to even realize he ran away to kill himself because you couldn’t even see how bad he was suffering on his own.”
Tim took satisfaction in the way Bruce flinched harshly, his face contorted in overwhelming guilt and shock.
“Tim, I…You know I’d never want him to—”
“Save it,” The younger man cut him off. “I’m not here to listen to your excuses. I’m here for Dami’s pets and his belongings.”
Tim shoved his way past Bruce with impatience. He didn’t want to hear any justification he might had for neglecting Damian. It had become clear to him that no one in their emotionally constipated family deserved the kind soul that is their youngest. Damian didn’t have the heart to resent them, but that was fine.
He had enough hate inside of him for them both.
(They had no idea what Tim would had done if Damian had really taken that final step and fell.)
Tim felt his heart flutter at the way Damian’s features lightened at the sight of Titus and Alfred.
“You brought them here, for me?” The boy marveled as he was drown in his adored pets’ affections.
Tim nodded. He wanted to make some progress for Damian’s healing process and he thought that nothing had ever made him happier than animals. He was glad he made the right choice.
“Yeah. Since you’ll be staying with me, I figured you’d want them here too. Sorry I couldn’t bring Jerry and Batcow.”
Damian let out an airy chuckle as Titus nuzzled his cheek and Alfred settled on his lap. Tim saw the smallest shine of light returning to those beautiful green eyes and it made him feel more powerful than Superman.
“Thank you, Drake. This means so much to me.”
The boy sent him a small smile. It wasn’t a bright one, but it was genuine and—ah, shit. Tim was falling even harder for him.
I’d do anything if it means you’ll be happy again.
Jason at least had the decency to call and ask about Damian’s well-being. Bruce hadn’t tried to contact Tim at all after their conversation at the manor. Cass was smart enough to know that Tim was unreasonably defensive about any of them seeing him and only sent a letter with encouraging words for her little brother. Stephanie had shown up to the apartment, but Tim was adamant to rub it in how they all forgot about Damian and slammed the door in her face.
He was just so angry.
Damian still didn’t question why Tim never let him take a single step outdoors. He didn’t complain whenever the older obsessively tries to make him eat more or watches him like a hawk. Tim had even taken extra precaution to make sure Damian never went into contact with anything potentially sharp that he could use to hurt himself.
He was terrified that Damian would relapse and Tim would once again find the young teen on top of another building, or worse. He didn’t know if he could make it in time to stop him this time. He didn’t know if he could bare it.
But damn it if he wasn’t going to try his best to prevent that from ever happening again.
Tim sighed warily as he stepped out of the bathroom, drying his wet hair with a small towel. The apartment was silent and that most likely meant Damian had already gone to sleep. Tim walked towards their (when had it become theirs?) bedroom, taking note of how the door was slightly ajar and how Titus was curled on the ground before it. He carefully wiggled his way inside without disturbing the dog and laid his eyes upon the form under the blankets.
It’d been quite a while since Damian had managed to fall asleep without Tim next to him as a comforting presence. The older felt his lips curling into a fond smile as he tiptoed closer to the bed, his hand already reaching out to caress Dami’s cheek with his knuckles before carding his fingers through his incredibly soft hair that had grown a bit since the first day Tim brought him here.
He looked peaceful. Safe.
Tim’s heart raced at the thought of Damian feeling safe around him. In a place that had Tim’s presence.
“You’re not a monster, and you never will be, at least to me,” He whispered. “It’s funny that you think no one wants you. I’ve spent the last few years just looking at you and hoping for something.”
Tim knew that no one could ever come close to the pedestal that Dick Grayson had in Damian’s heart. The boy simply adored his former mentor and Tim couldn’t blame him. He, too, had been a huge dork over their oldest when Bruce had taken him in.
But that admiration had long since diminished the moment he realized just how much Dick had hurt Damian, indirectly or not. Leaving him for Bludhaven, the whole Simon Hurt ordeal, running off to play spy across the world, and so much more. Losing his memory had been the last straw. It wasn’t particularly Dick’s fault, but Tim wasn’t feeling too forgiving at the moment.
If he recovered from his amnesia, he was going to have to work a long way for forgiveness. Damian was Tim’s to protect.He wasn’t letting that man anywhere near Damian if Dick wasn’t going to acknowledge everything he’d done.
“I’ll never let anything hurt you again,” Tim swore. “It doesn’t matter if the whole world hates you. I’ll be the only one to love you. Always.”
He sealed the promise with a chaste kiss to Damian’s lips.
(Damian heard him, and his heart was won.)