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Jon heard them coming. Listened to their heartbeat, knew it wasn’t someone he recognized.
“…Hi.”
He glanced up, keeping his face hidden behind his curled knees. A man was standing there. Mid-twenties if he had to guess. Dark hair, tan-ish skin, blue eyes. An obnoxiously cheerful smile.
Still, he could see his father, Bruce and Damian on the porch of the house beyond the field. Damian was watching them. His dad and Bruce’s backs were trustingly turned away. So, clearly this man wasn’t a threat.
“…Hello.”
“I…heard you won’t talk to your folks.” The man hummed. “I heard you won’t talk to Damian either.”
“…I don’t need to.” Jon whispered.
“Well, can I try anyway?” The man asked. “…I’m Dick, by the way. Dick Grayson.”
Jon blinked, raised his head a little higher. “…Damian’s brother?”
Dick nodded. “He called me.” Pause. “…He’s worried about you.”
Jon scoffed, looked away. “Of all people.”
“I know, right? He’s such a weirdo.” Dick stepped forward, slowly sitting down next to Jon, keeping a comfortable distance between them, but not too far. He sighed contently as he leaned back against the tree. “…I get it, though, Jon. I do.”
Jon glanced at him. “Get what?”
“Not telling your parents something that upsets you is one thing. They’re your parents. It’s natural to keep secrets from your parents.” Dick looked up at the leaves overhead. “But you won’t tell Damian either. And he’s too dense to notice it, but I get it.”
Jon waited.
“You’re upset about something to do with Damian, right?” Jon dropped his gaze, leaned his chin back against his knees. “And that happens to me loads of times, for different reasons. But from the little information he gave me, I can’t figure out what it is for you.”
Jon didn’t answer.
“Now, if he upset you by being a jerk, I’ll apologize on his behalf, go talk to him and make him see the light.” Dick said. “And, like I said, he’s a little dense, and sometimes doesn’t quite catch on to social norms like, you know, being nice, so. He needs some work.”
“It’s…it’s not that.” Jon murmured.
“…Oh.”
Silence fell between them. The leaves rustled from above. Birds chirped as they flew by. Even Bruce and Clark’s voices floated over them, though the exact words couldn’t be made out.
“…Mr. Grayson?”
“Dick, please.”
“…Dick?” Jon waited another moment before looking up. Dick was watching him patiently. “How many times has Damian died?”
Dick blinked, opening his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He glanced back towards the house, where Damian was still staring.
“How many times has he gotten hurt?” Jon whispered. “How many times has he gotten hurt because of you?”
Dick’s mouth slowly closed. Then: “…I see.”
Jon found himself looking down again, the guilt washing through his system once more. “…He almost died because of me.”
Now it was Dick not answering.
“I almost got your brother killed. Kathy tried to hang him because of me.” Jon continued, hiding his face. “You shouldn’t be wanting to talk to me right now.”
“…That’s…” Dick whispered. “That’s still better than me.”
Jon hesitated, but looked up.
“He did die because of me.” Dick smiled sadly. “Twice.”
Jon felt his mouth drop open, just a little.
“Once, he was protecting me from his clone. The second time was just a few months ago. He was shot, kidnapped and stabbed because a crazy man thought sacrificing him would make me stronger, or whatever.” Dick’s voice was quiet, less pleasant. Heartbroken, really. “And…and that friend of both of yours, Maya? She said…well, she told me it was a secret, but she said Damian died under her watch once too.”
“And he…still…”
“He doesn’t think a thing about it. He doesn’t understand why I feel guilty still.” Dick waved his hands in front of them. “‘I’m back now, Grayson.’ He says. ‘So what’s the big deal? It doesn’t matter anymore!’”
“It is a big deal, because he gets hurt because of us!” Jon cried. “He shouldn’t want to…He shouldn’t be around us! We shouldn’t let him be around us! We’re dangerous!”
“…And he doesn’t care.” Dick surmised. “I know he doesn’t act it, but. He’s got a big heart. A huge heart. Once he cares about someone…it doesn’t matter what they do. What they say. He will never not care about them.”
“Damian…cares about me?” Jon asked softly.
“He referred to you as his ‘best friend’ a few weeks ago.” Dick chuckled. “But I guess Jason owes me twenty bucks now. We had a bet that you had no idea.”
“That…” Jon looked back towards the house. Their fathers were gone, and so was Damian. “That almost makes things worse.”
“I know.” Dick sighed. “Jon, I…I know nothing I say will make you feel better. I don’t know the situation you’re talking about, but I’m sure it happened. I’m sure Damian almost died, and I’m sure, whether it was actually your fault or not, you’re going to feel guilty about it for a long time. Just like I know the second you start to forgive yourself, something else will happen, Damian will get hurt again, and you’ll hate yourself even worse.”
“…How do you sleep at night, Mr. Grayson?” Jon whispered, looking up at him. “Dick, how do you sleep at night, knowing Damian gets hurt and doesn’t deserve it? That it’s your fault and he doesn’t care, and he’ll keep fighting and dying for you for as long as he can?”
Dick thought for a second, then smiled. The grin looked tired. “Who said I slept?”
“…Kathy knocked him unconscious, when she almost hung him.” Jon murmured. “And when he woke up he wasn’t even mad at me. Just stood up, assessed the situation and kept fighting.”
“Yeah, he tends to do that.” Dick chuckled.
“…What do we do?”
“We…try to forgive ourselves, the way he already has.” Dick sighed. “But most of all, we stay with him, like he stays with us. I know your instinct right now is to distance yourself, because you think he’d be safer, or better off without us, but that…doesn’t translate to him. His brain interprets that as something else, something terrible. Then he just shuts down.”
Jon stared at him.
“You just…stay with him and always try to be better.” Dick smirked. “But never tell him you’re trying to be better for him. Tell him you’re just trying to get stronger. Otherwise he’ll just get embarrassed.”
And that finally got a smile out of Jon.
“…I’m still sorry, Dick.” Jon hummed after a moment. “I’m sorry I almost got your brother killed. Taken from you and Batman again.”
“It’s okay, Jon.” Dick smiled. “Real-”
Suddenly the tall grass rustled and parted, and an annoyed Damian stomped through it towards them.
“I’m sorry, Jon! Okay?!” He spat. “I’m sorry I was a jerk, and I’m sorry, I…I don’t know, made you cry? I’m sorry I’m upset you regardless, or whatever I did.” He glanced at Dick only for a second. “Now will you please speak to me again?!”
Jon glanced at Dick, who was smiling knowingly.
“Told you.” He whispered. “Sort of.”
“Told him?” Damian demanded. “Told him what?”
Dick just laughed.
“What did my idiot of a brother tell you?” Damian practically begged, turning back to look at Jon as the younger stood. “Whatever it is, it’s probably wron-”
Damian’s voice faded away as Jon hugged him. Wrapped his arms around his neck and squeezed.
Still: “…What drivel did you tell him, Grayson!”
“Forgiven.” Jon laughed, though to the other two, he sounded like he was almost crying. “It’s all forgiven, Damian. It’s all okay.”
And as he watched Damian carefully, and confusedly, return the embrace, Dick thought that maybe one day, Jon just might believe that for himself, too.