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The day Damian started coughing up flower petals, he knew something was wrong.
He didn't know what, but he knew it wasn't normal to cough out tiny white flower petals.
But it started at a time when he barely had time to sleep, let alone worry about whatever it was. So for nearly a year, he blazed ahead, forging his trail, making the world aware of who Robin was without Batman. He lived with coughing up a flower petal every week or so. It wasn't a big deal. Neither was the itchy feeling in his chest. Inside his lungs.
Finally, after nearly a year, when he started coughing up the petals daily, sometimes huge amounts of them, he started doing some research. The only thing that came up was old folk lore about a disease related to falling in love. A disease that caused flowers to bloom in your lungs, and most often were the favorite flowers of the person you fell for. Damian scoffed and decided it must be some trick of Poison Ivy's and went back to work. Ignoring the handfuls of petals.
When it got so bad he was coughing them up every hour, that's when he started contemplating telling someone, asking Father maybe. He was almost seventeen at this stage, he had his driver's license and was a grade ahead of his age, aiming to finish school early and go straight to college. He was planning to ask Bruce, but that's not what he got. Instead he got Jason and Roy.
He was on patrol, helping them with a drug ring case, sitting in the rafters, watching a deal go down, when the tickling hit him. His eyes widened slightly and he tried to choke it down, but it wasn't obeying. He stood rapidly and turned, sprinting along the metal beam and slipping out the window they had snuck through, climbing to the roof just in time to double over and cough and cough and cough. He coughed so long and hard that blood came out with the petals, nearly enough for three flowers now. Winded, he sat down, coughing out one last one, spitting the wet thing onto the cement roof beside him.
"Hey, kid, you okay?"
Damian's eyes widened again and he quickly tried to hide the petals, shoving them into his pockets, under his cape, anywhere. But it was too late.
"Whoa. Really?"
Jason's hand reached out and snagged his wrist, pulling his fist open. They both watched as the wind caught the tiny white petals, blowing them onto the ground next to Damian.
"Damian," Jason's voice dropped, sounding almost concerned. "How long? Have you told them? Anyone?"
Damian yanked his hand away, looking away.
"Whatever are you talking about, Todd?" He grumbled, throat raw.
"Jesus. You haven't? Do you even know what these mean? Did Bruce not tell you?!"
"Cease your infernal prattling!"
"Damian! Quit! This is serious, you could die!" Jason snapped, shoving Damian, who had begun standing, down.
Damian's mouth snapped shut, staring at him in shock.
"What?"
"God Bruce really never told you? That asshole."
Jason sat down beside him, looking down and beginning to undo his gloves.
"How long."
"Nearly two years."
"Jesus, are you still on petals? No flowers?"
"Just petals. . . Todd what is happening to me?"
Jason sighed, glancing up at Roy, who had joined them, looking at the white petals.
"Have you researched this at all?" Jason asked softly.
"Of course I have."
"And you read the myths?"
"Yes, what good is that though, senseless fairy tales-"
"Damian they're real. This one is real."
"Do not jest, Todd-"
"I'm not. . . Roy, what was yours?" Jason asked, glancing up at the ginger.
"You don't remember? Queen Ann's Lace."
"Oh yeah, that shit was painful. Kori's was worse. Some type of fire flower from Tamar. Have you ever coughed up a fiery petal?" Jason asked.
"Yes," Roy inputted with a laugh.
"Jason."
"Right, sorry. The myths are real. Completely real, and very dangerous. You're at two years you said? I would bet you have this constant tickling in your chest, you barely can go an hour without coughing at least one petal up. In a few months, you'll have the terrifying experience of coughing up a whole flower, and I hope for your sake it's something small."
"You're telling me I'm in love?"
"Yup, and unless you figure out who, and tell them, those flowers are gonna take over your body and suffocate you."
Damian stared at him with wide eyes.
"This is stupid."
"Its not. D, asking Bruce, or Leslie. They'll both tell you it's real, and very dangerous."
Roy knelt beside them.
"Damian, it's not that scary, usually it's someone you're very close to, and now that you know, it won't take you long to figure it out," Roy said softly.
"But you need to figure it out before this-" Jason picked up a petal. "Kills you."
Roy sucked in a breath, glancing to the side. "We do have to tell you though. There is a third option."
"What is it?" Damian snapped.
"Roy, no."
"He has to know, Jason. We both knew all our options."
Jason sighed, shaking his head.
"There is a surgery, very expensive and dangerous, but it can save you from this," Roy explained softly. "But. It rips all the flowers from your lungs and in turn rips all your memories with the person from your life too."
"How do you get it?" Damian asked quickly, this option seemed appealing.
"You can't," Jason said softly.
"What?! Why not?"
"Because you're under 21 and the doctors won't do the surgery on someone without legal, and sometimes even court, permission. And I highly doubt Bruce will let you do it."
Damian growled slightly in his throat. Roy chuckled, patting his knee.
"You'll be fine, kid, just keep an eye out for who it might be."
It only took Damian three days from there to figure it out. And he figured it out in the middle of school, sitting there, Jonathan Kent beside him, rattling along about something or another involving their English lecture. Damian wasn't really listening, just trying to choke down flowers because he was not letting Kent of all people know what was wrong. The kid would go ballistic.
But then he looked over. Jon, his messy black hair, bright blue eyes hidden behind those stupid plastic frames, lightly sun kissed skin dotted with freckles, and the dumb school uniform that never quite fit him right, especially now that he was growing into his Kryptonian body, shoulders broadening, body slowly beginning to gain a bulk. He was talking with his hands, having moved onto a story about his friend Kathy. And he was looking at Damian like he had hung the stars.
Oh no. God, please not him.
Jon was two years younger then him, having just turned fifteen before school started. But Damian couldn't deny the upturn of his lips every time he saw Jon, couldn't ignore the pull in his heart every time Kent did something mildly stupid.
"Dames, you okay?" Jon nudged his foot with his own, his big blue eyes owlish as he stared at him.
"I'm fine-" Damian suppressed a cough. "Fine, Kent. You were saying."
"Right! So there was this big-"
Damian turned away, pulling up the edge of his blazer and coughing into it. Jon was still chattering behind him, even as he reached out and gently patted Damian's back while he coughed.
"Maybe you should go to Leslie, you don't sound great."
"I'll survive."
"Ookaay."
I don't think I will.
Right before they left school that day, Damian had to ask. Jon was walking him out to the helicopter field, still chattering along.
"Kent?"
"Yeah?"
"What's your favorite flower?"
Jon jolted like Damian had shocked him, glancing over, eyes wide and face surprised.
"Uh? That's an odd question."
"Just curious."
"Huh. . . Okay. Well. Daisy's probably. I think they're just really dainty and pretty."
Damian nodded. "Okay. See you tomorrow, Kent."
"Wait. Damian, what's yours?" Jon called after him.
"A water lily!" Damian called back, knowing Jon would be able to hear him over the helicopter blades.
Later, sitting in his room, staring at a handful of tiny white petals next to his phone, displaying a picture of daisies, Damian knew he was totally screwed.
A year later, the growing feeling in his lungs was undeniable. It pulled and scratched and hurt. He rarely coughed up just petals now, sometimes it would be a whole flower, sometimes several, sometimes just a half. Bruce had found out when Damian nearly vomited on patrol one day because a long stem had gotten caught in his throat.
This was killing him, and Damian was going to lay down and let the flowers eat his body before he ever let Kent know.
Bruce had started limiting his patrolling, but Damian was an adult now and could do as he pleased. He didn't see Jon much except at school, their superhero personas both busy with protecting their own cities. Damian just lived life, hiding the white flowers that he coughed up, hiding it from Jon, from the rest of his family, from the public. Because if the public knew that the Wayne heir was suffering from a fatal disease, there would be no escaping the media.
Damian was just going to die.
"Baby bat, you have to tell him!" Dick whined, ducking under Damian's punches.
"How do you know it's a him?"
"Because, ow! Cheater!" Dick flipped forwards, catching Damian with his heal and then immediately handspringing back. "I heard you and Jay talking about it. I'm not mad that you trust Jason more than me with this, I just don't want you to die!"
Damian growled in his throat, lunging forwards and catching Dick's arm, twisting and Judo flipping him. He was about to consider jumping on Dick when he started coughing. He didn't even try to stop it, just staggered away, grabbing onto the nearby railing and just coughed.
After a minute, Dick came over and rubbed his back gently.
Once the flower finally got out of his throat, Damian reached inside his mouth, grabbed onto it, and with a long exhale, yanked the thing out. It was speckled in blood, and the stem of the flower had roots attached, gunk he didn't want to think about hanging between the roots. He gave one last cough, spitting out some blood before accepting the waterbottle Dick handed him.
"And this is normal?" Dick asked, staring at him wide eyed.
"Two or three of these a day."
Damian looked at it, the dainty petals, the bright yellow center. And then he dropped it, watched it fall into the water below them, the river taking it away.
"Jesus, and you're not gonna tell him?!"
"No. I just hope I die first, because he deserves to be on this planet more then I do."
"Damian."
"You're not changing my mind, Grayson. Father and Leslie have both tried. Jason and Roy have both tried. It won't work."
Dick sighed at him but shook his head, rubbing Damian's back again.
"You're stupid sometimes."
"So are you."
Six months later, Damian felt like he was dying. Not even being dramatic. He was glad it was summer break, and he was graduated, because he spent most of his time in bed, his body destroyed by the coughing fits that took over any time he tried to move. He had been forcefully removed from patrol and so now he had nothing to do but read and suffer.
One stormy July evening, he was laying in bed, halfway through The Merchant of Venice, when there was a tapping at his window. He glanced up and around, but the thick curtains were pulled over them and he couldn't see out. So he looked back at his page and returned to reading.
The tapping didn't stop.
With a cough, Damian pulled himself out of bed and walked over to the window, arms wrapped around his stomach. He nudged aside the curtains and felt a quiet gasp leave his body. Lighting struck, silhouetting the person outside his window. Damian hurried to unlock it and open one side enough that that they could crawl through.
"Kent!" He exclaimed, stepping out of the way as the Kryptonian, soaked from the storm, dressed in his Superboy uniform, pulled himself through the open window.
"Hey, Dames."
Jon turned, pulling the window closed again, leaning against it and breathing in, eyes closed.
"Jesus, you're soaked, here."
Damian turned, darting away and grabbing a clean towel from his bathroom, and coming back, handing it to Jon who grunted his thanks and began drying his hair. Damian felt a cough tickling his throat and ignored it, sitting in his bed and looking at Jon. His best friend had gotten attractive, arguably hot even. His hair was still messy, still stuck in every which way, with bangs hanging over his eyes. His face had slimmed down considerably, but he didn't quite have his father's chiseled jawline. His blue eyes nearly took Damian's breath away every time they looked at each other.
"We need to talk, Damian," Jon said softly, walking closer.
"About?"
"Where have you been?"
"I've been ill."
"For months?"
Damian sucked in a breath, glancing away, over at his nightstand, where a single daisy sat in a cup of water.
"I'll be fine, Kent."
"Damian, you're my best friend and I haven't seen you since school ended. You always say you're busy but every time I listen for you, you're right here. And sometimes I hear these horrible coughing fits."
The concern written all over Jon's face was making it hard to breathe, that coupled with the flowers in Damian's lungs? Maybe he would just die right now and save himself the misery of this talk. When Damian didn't speak, couldn't speak, Jon sighed, kneeling in front of him.
"I was really hoping you would just tell me," Jon murmured.
Jon was shorter then Damian now, looking up at him as he leaned into Damian's knees. It didn't escape Damian how this position could be mistaken for a more sexual one if someone walked in, but he was just focused on how close Jon was. How he could reach out and touch his face. But yet, how far away from Damian's grasp he still was. Jon looked sad as he looked up into Damian's eyes, his beautiful lips curled into a frown.
"Tell you what?" Damian asked softly, breathing the words out more than speaking them.
Jon reached up and put a hand on Damian's chest, over his right lung. His other hand was reaching into his pocket.
"About this."
Jon pulled something out and opened his hand, showing it to Damian. All breath left him when he realized what it was. A whole water lily, perfectly intact, pure white except for spots of blood on some of the petals. Jon gently set it on Damian's knee and then reached over, grabbing the daisy and setting that on Damian's other knee, then looking up at him.
"I love you, Damian Wayne, I've loved you for as long as I can remember, and I never want to stop loving you."
The knot in his stomach eased at Jon's words. He looked down at the flowers, then up at Jon's face, full of hope.
"How long?" Damian asked softly.
"Two years. I only just started with the whole flowers."
Damian smiled lightly. Two years, and he'd been coughing up whole flowers for one year now. Then he giggled slightly, relief filling his body and giving him a sense of euphoria.
"What? Why are you laughing?" Jon asked, looking hurt.
"Oh Kent."
Damian pushed off the bed, his feet slipping under it as he fell to his knees in front of Jon, reaching up to cup his face.
"I'm laughing because I have had this for three and a half years, and I thought I was going to die before I ever told you."
"Oh."
"Jonathan Kent, I love you. I love you so much that even the thought of dying was better than the thought of losing you. I love you."
Jon was smiling now, eyes wet with tears. Damian pulled Jon to him and kissed him gently, tenderly, cautious of how he might react, but Jon didn't pull away, just leaned into Damian, pressing into the kiss. Damian pulled away after a moment and sucked in a breath, feeling, for the first time in three years, clean, pure air entering his body. It made him feel light headed, and he felt happy. He giggled again, kissing Jon again and again, and then they were falling to the floor, tangled up together, laughing like little kids. Jon reached out, gently stroking Damian's cheek as he smiled softly.
"I kinda knew you weren't ever going to be the first one to say it," Jon said with a chuckle.
"Yes well, we both know I'm the dramatic one."
"That you are."
Jon tugged Damian to him, kissing him again.
"How do you feel? Anymore flowers?"
Damian shook his head. "It's strange, it just feels like they're gone."
"Yeah, same here."
They looked at each other for a moment before Damian sighed and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling.
"Hey, is everything okay?" Jon asked softly, pushing himself up on one elbow to look down at Damian.
"No."
"I . . . Don't understand?"
"Kent, you're sixteen, I'm eighteen, people aren't going to like that much."
"Yeah well. I'm half alien, dress in Spandex and spend my evenings saving the planet, while you're the grandson of a psychopath and spend your evenings in Kevlar beating up bad guys. Since when have we cared what people thought?"
Damian chuckled lightly, looking over at him.
"I suppose not. Do your parents know?"
"Yeah. I'm not great at keeping things like this from them. Plus I kinda kept you know, coughing out flowers and shit. Does yours?"
"Bruce found out recently, hence why Robin has been missing. I kept it from him for two years though."
Jon rolled his eyes, reaching out and running a hand through Damian's hair.
"They don't know it's you though. No one does."
"Really? My parents know it's you."
Damian shrugged. "I didn't want them interfering, and if Grayson had known. . ."
"Oh yeah, he would've come had a talk with me."
Damian chuckled, smiling up at him. Jon smiled back, carefully leaning down and kissing him.
"Dude, I kinda can't believe I fell in love with my best friend."
"I can."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Jon giggled, shaking his head lightly.
"Okay, well, I have to go, I kinda bailed on Kon to come here."
"Okay."
They got up, moving to the window, the storm still raging outside. Jon looked out and gave a grunt of complaint, but started opening the window anymore.
"Soo," he sat on the window sill, feet dangling slightly. "Am I actually gonna see you now?"
"Well, now that I don't appear to be dying anymore, yes. You will see both me, and my masked counterpart."
"Cool. I know you're not big on this type of stuff, but there's a new movie out that I was kinda wanting to go see, and well . . . Do you wanna go with me?"
"Sure Jon, that would be great," Damian hummed, reaching out to gently flick his nose.
Jon grinned at him, sticking his tongue out at Damian. Damian smiled back again. Jon leaned forwards, grabbing Damian's loose pajama shirt and pulling him closer. Damian let him, he couldn't really resist when the teen could literally bench press bridges. Jon reached up, running a hand through Damian's hair, playing with the soft strands at the nape of his neck. It was starting to rain inside, Jon's back getting wet the longer he sat there. Damian could feel the rain drops on his face, but he didn't mind, staring down into Jon's eyes.
"I'll text you then? I expect a response, or else I'll be right back here at this window."
"Yes, yes, I'll respond."
"Great."
Jon pushed up off the window sill, bringing himself into Damian's space, tilting his head up slightly to press their lips together.
"I love you," Jon breathed out when he pulled away.
"I know. I love you too."
Jon grinned and kissed Damian once more before stepping away, sitting back on the window sill.
"Bye Rob."
And he fell backwards, out the window. Damian stepped forwards and watched as he floated up, giving a wave and then shooting away, giving a sonic boom that was followed immediately by thunder crashing. Damian chuckled to himself, closing the window and pulling the curtains back over it. He walked back to his bed, but instead of laying down, he turned off the light and then turned, walking out and downstairs. Alfred was quite shocked to find him up and moving, healthy and even happy.