Chapter Text
People had been telling Damian that he was just like his father since he’d come to dwell within the crime infested city of Gotham. Most times he’d taken their words as a compliment or, in Alfred’s case, a taunt. Recently, however, he had come to feel insulted by them. It was his own fault, though. He had acted brashly and had spoken words that he hadn’t meant. Words that had chased away the one person who had always accepted him.
Dick had only been trying to help. His interruption of Damian’s solo mission had solely been because Damian had missed his last two check-in times with the cave and the blue bird had grown worried. Really, it had been nice of Grayson to come after him. It had showed that he cared. Yet Damian had reacted violently. Both in the physical and the verbal sense of the word.
“You idiot! You just blew my cover! I could have had this case wrapped up tonight if you didn’t intervene!” Damian had scolded when the blue bird had cut him free from his bindings and he’d landed with an undignified thud on the dirt covered floor of the warehouse they were in.
“Well, excuse me for trying to save your ass!” Dick had shot back.
“It didn’t need saving! Did you even stop to contemplate that I may have put myself in this situation on purpose? Or is your brain just too tiny to process such a thought?”
“No, Robin, I didn’t,” even though he wore his domino mask Damian had known that Grayson was narrowing his eyes. His posture was stiff, his arms folded over his chest, and his legs slightly spread. He was on the defense. If Damian had been thinking, he would have back pedaled right then and there, but since he wasn’t, he stormed on. He’d been confident at the time, but now he felt shaken. “You miss two check-ins, don’t respond on your comm, and when I track you down I find you strung up from the ceiling like a fucking banner! So no, I didn’t think to stop and consider that you’d planned for Black Mask’s goons to be eyeing you up or for half of your uniform to be torn. Sorry, for trying to help!”
“You should be! You ruined everything! You always ruin everything. You are more protective than father! At least he had the courtesy to wait for my signal before intervening!”
“What…”
Bruce dropped from the ceiling, cutting off Dick’s train of thought.
“I told you to leave him be,” Bruce’s voice was gravely and the shadows of the warehouse seemed almost attracted to his dark armor.
“You told me that he’s Damian and that I should just let him be, then you went to that ceremony for the Commissioner,” Dick growled. “I thought you didn’t know what was going on. I thought you were just waiting to see if he made his next check-in.”
“More proof that you do not know how to use the brain you supposedly have,” Damian scoffed. “Tt, really Grayson.”
If there was a second place Damian should have stopped, it was there. He certainly shouldn’t have continued with his insults as Grayson tried to defend himself. He should have taken a step back and assessed the situation from the older bird’s point of view. If he had, then he never would have said those words that had ultimately driven Grayson away from him.
“Stop hovering over me! I’m not your little Robin anymore! I’m almost eighteen. I don’t need you to protect me. No one here does! You should just leave!”
“Maybe it’d be for the best,” Bruce had stated in the hallway, outside of Damian’s door.
Damian had been arguing with Grayson the entire ride back home and Bruce had barely said a word until the youngest Wayne had slammed the door of his room in the face of a pleading Grayson.
“B…” Dick had trailed off.
“Dick,” Damian had heard his father say and could almost picture him placing a hand on his oldest son’s shoulder, “All of you went through this stage. You left, remember? So did Tim. Even Jason sort of did. He needs his space.”
“Never thought I’d hear you say that, B.”
Bruce sighed. “Each one of you boys were different, but you all taught me one thing that I’ve tried hard to use with Damian. The harder you pull him towards you, the more you coddle him, the further he’ll fly away. Damian is right, Dick. You should leave. Give him some space and let this all blow over. Just for a few months.”
A few months. That’s all that Bruce had asked for, but Dick had showed up repeatedly in the weeks that made up those months. The first time had only been a few days after he’d left the manor. Damian had been on patrol when he’d spotted Nightwing following him.
“Go away!” He’d screamed at the blue bird.
“Dami, wait!” Dick had jumped from roof to roof with Damian, never once faltering. “Please, I just want to talk!”
“I said, go away!”
The next time had been a week later. Nightwing had been lurking atop a building and emerged from the shadows just as Robin landed on it.
“Dami,” Dick’s voice was soft, like he was speaking to a wounded animal. “Look, I…I’m sorry. I was just worried about you. I…Can I come home yet?”
“Fuck off, Grayson.”
The third time, the same words had been shared between the two. Along with the fourth time. And the fifth. And the sixth. By the time two months had passed, Damian had reached the point of saying, “No, you can’t come back yet!” as soon as he saw Dick’s face.
Half way through the third month, Damian accidently crashed Dick’s party he was having with a group of gang bangers. Neither of them had said a word as they’d taken down the goons together. In synch. Like they’d never stopped fighting by the other’s side. Like the last few months hadn’t even happened. When Damian went to leave, however, is when Dick mumbled those words again.
Grayson had been leaning heavily on a dumpster. His breathing was labored and if Damian had been paying as much attention as he should have been, he would have noticed how that wasn’t right. There had been something wrong with the older bird, but instead of noting how blood was seeping through part of his uniform, or how his skin was much more pale than normal, or how ragged his voice was, all he did was offer a clipped reply.
“Dami,” Grayson’s voice had sounded rough, like someone had taken sandpaper to it. Blue eyes pleaded from behind a domino mask as Damian turned his back on who was supposed to be his brother but had never, truly been. “Please. Can I come home?”
“No.”
Two weeks and four nights later and Damian was seated at the bat computer while his father accepted an incoming transmission from oracle. He hadn’t seen a flash of blue in the night since the last time he’d turned down Grayson request and, to be honest, it had started to worry him. He may have been like his father and pushed away people when he was angry with them, but Dick had never stayed away from him for so long. Except for that one time when he rudely faked his death.
“Yes, Oracle?” Bruce greeted, bent over his own work at a nearby desk.
“B,” Oracle began in a hurried voice and Damian’s interest peaked. “it’s Nightwing. Something happened to him. He was chasing Deathstroke and reported that he’d followed him to the Bludhaven docks. That was four hours ago and I haven’t been able to get through to him. I pulled up his mask’s live feed, but it’s black. Something’s wrong.”
Damian’s breath caught as a feeling of wrongness settled over him.
“Bludhaven docks?” Bruce was already pulling his cowl on as he spoke. “I’m on it.”
Damian had raced to the batmobile to join Bruce, only to be stopped by the older man holding up a hand.
“You’re staying here,” Bruce stated. “I need you on the computer. Pull up Dick’s tracking information, see if you can’t hack into his mask and find out what’s blocking the signal.”
“Why can’t Oracle do that?”
“Because she’s coming with me.”
“Gothcha,” Barbra stated. Ever since she’d regained her ability to walk, Bruce had been teaming up with her more than with Damian. “Already in route. ETA, twenty minutes.”
Damian’s heart pounded in his chest. What if twenty minutes wasn’t quick enough?