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Damian didn’t like Drake.
Truth be told, Damian was sure no one liked Drake. Father probably pitied him and Grayson liked strays. That is probably why Drake was still around.
Damian didn’t like him.
Drake was inadequate, useless, annoying and thought himself smart when all he ever contributed to conversations were pitiful retorts to protect his damaged pride.
No, Damian did not like him at all.
Still, pulling Alfred closer to his chest, Damian frowned at the older teen where he sat in the living room talking to Richard. Drake was smiling and nodding to something the other was saying, and after a momentary pause in speech; Grayson watching the younger expectedly, Drake laughs. It’s a short burst of amusement and Richard seem to thrive on it, for he grins widely and leans closer to try and continue whatever meaningless conversation they’d been engaged in.
But something about the situation didn’t sit right with Damian. Grayson was fine. He was acting like he always did, perhaps a bit more exuberant now that he had Drake’s attention all to himself, but nothing unusual about that behaviour. No, what had Damian on edge was not the older man but the younger of the pair.
Taking a hesitant step forward; still ensuring he was well hidden behind the door frame, Damian narrowed his eyes, gaze fixed on the sibling he liked the least.
No, what was wrong with this scenario was Drake himself.
Drake no longer smiled.
Sure he pretended to, and by Grayson’s reaction it was faked perfectly enough for his brother to fall for it, but Damian knew.... he’d grown up with deception wrapped around him like a second skin. He knew a fake smile when he saw it and there was no mistaking it. Drake did not smile anymore. Not around the manor. Not around Grayson. Not around father.
He was not sincere.
Something inside Drake had faded away and while no one seemed to notice this fact, Damian had. He’d noticed and for an absurd reason he couldn’t quiet put his finger on, it bothered him.
Drake no longer smiling, bothered him.
Reaching up to pat Alfred, Damian continued to observe the interactions between the two older vigilantes. Watched as Drake tensed when Grayson ruffled his hair. Watched as for a split second, Drake’s mask of happiness fell and utter blankness took over. Watched as Grayson was nothing but oblivious to the charade. Watched and felt a sense of pain; dull but present, bloom in his chest.
He didn’t like it.
This would have to stop.
Drake was unhappy with his current circumstances and it was only a matter of time before Richard caught on and if he did----
Damian found himself shoving away the image of the heartbroken man and blinking away the sudden feeling of desperation clawing at his chest.
Something needed to be done. Damian needed to do something. If Drake could no longer smile with Grayson, perhaps Damian could teach him how to smile again, and then maybe-----
--------
How to Make Someone Smile
Scanning over the suggestions, Damian grimaced at the romantic notion behind some of them. That wasn’t what he was looking for. Scrolling down, he filters through the list until he had separated those that were plausible from those he wouldn’t do in a hundred years.
Satisfied, he picked up his notebook and walked out of his room.
A couple of suggestions had appealed to him. They were simple enough to execute and if he succeeded, he was sure Drake would be happy again and Richard wouldn’t be disappointed.
Simple enough.
Simple enough.
First order of business, he looked around and there—Leaning down Damian scooped up Alfred. Bringing the purring feline close to his chest and making his way down the stairs.
Whenever someone needed cheering up, animals were supposed to do the trick. Animals.... Alfred was of course far superior to rest of the feline population around the world, so Damian was certain that a bit of time spent with him would make Drake smile again.
“I’m aware I’m asking a great deal of you,” he muttered to his friend, fingers coming up to run over its fur. “But this is important to father and Richard and I need you to do your best to accomplish this mission.”
Peeking into the living room, he spots Drake once more. Figures..... Drake had been forcing himself to stay put in public areas of the manor. Why? Damian hadn’t quiet figured it out yet, but if ever in need of finding the former allusive vigilante, now on only needed to visit the common rooms of the manor and he would be there. Either working on urgent matters or entertaining the rest of the family's attention; specifically Grayson.
He was never happy while doing it.... in fact, Drake looked pained every time he somehow found himself stuck in a conversation with Richard, but despite his trepidation and his general lies of faked happiness, Drake never walked away.
Perhaps he too was trying to reconnect to the family the same way Grayson was trying to bridge the gap between them? Perhaps Drake was just tired of fighting..... Perhaps Drake didn’t care anymore--
Gritting his teeth, Damian swallowed down the sudden tightness climbing up his throat; fingers shaking slightly where they curled around Alfred. “This is for Grayson, Alfred. For Richard.”
With that he places the cat on the floor and gently shoves him towards Drake. “Go on.”
Alfred does not require much prompting and with a soft whine, he takes off and springs up to Drake’s surprised figure. Jumping on top of him with no care in the world; loud meows escape past his mouth.
Drake does not know what to do at first, laptop held gingerly above his head where he’d managed to save it out of reflexes alone when Alfred made himself at home in his lap without warning. Blinking in stunned silence, Drake expression goes momentarily blank, eyes fixated on the feline on his lap.
Finally after an agonizing moment of pure silence, Drake carefully puts his computer on the table before he slowly; ever so slowly reaches out to run a hesitant finger over Alfred’s head and---
Damian holds his breath.
It takes eleven minutes and thirty-two seconds but--- Drake’s expression..... his blank, empty, hallow expression falls apart. It’s an amazing thing to witness.
Slowly, painfully slowly, Drake lets his guard down. He stops looking so..... dead and with every affectionate purr that comes out of Alfred, the more the vigilante's eyes light up, shoulders relaxing and finally.... finally, his lips quirk up the tiniest bit. Not by much and not anything like he used to be from the pictures Damian had gotten his hands on, but----
This smile, this tiny inch of something; was more genuine than anything Drake had shown for the past couple of months. Maybe it was this easy. Maybe Damian had fixed things---
“Timmy! Tim! You in here buddy!”
And just like that the faint trace of happiness that Alfred somehow had brought to the surface of Drake was gone. Blankness descended once more like a shutter across Drake’s expression and his lips pulled up at the corners. Wide, friendly, happy.
“Hey Dick. Yeah, I’m in the living room!”
“Timmers! I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Drake laughs. It’s high, broken, filtered..... hallow.
Damian feels sick.
------------------
“Showing concern can make someone feel appreciated and cared for. A phone call to ask them about their well-being is a good first step.”
Phone in hand, Damian frowns down at his notebook. This advice while easy enough sounded.... unfounded?
Still, Alfred had managed to incite some form of reaction out of Drake, so perhaps calling him to check on his work would also yield a positive result.
Mind made up, Damian quickly typed in Drake’s number, trying to ignore the sudden difficultly he was experiencing with his breathing.
“Hello?”
Tensing, Damian’s fist clenched at his side; knuckles white where they gripped the phone for dare life. What was he even doing?
“Hello?”
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and focused on the end results. It was only a matter of time before Richard and father figured out Drake’s unhappiness and the fallout from that revelation would be devastating. If his brother and father could not handle Drake’s ridiculous need for emotional support, it was up to Damian to figure out a way to make his lies into reality, so--
“Drake.”
A pause.
Drake had obviously not expected him to be on the other side for his stunned silence was all too apparent. Damian could still hear his hitched breathing on the other side of the phone.
“Greetings Drake.”
“Damian?”
The utter surprise in the other’s voice made him frown in displeasure. He didn’t know why Drake’s reaction bothered him, but it did and....... He couldn’t focus on that now. He had a mission to accomplish.
“I decided to check on you and your work.”
“Oh?”
“Yes,” Damian continued. Feeling a tiny bit of relief to have initiated the checkup phone call. Hopefully Drake would feel appreciated at the concern Damian Wayne was displaying towards him. “Your latest project is behind schedule and your productivity has decreased significantly. Perhaps you ought to go back home and rest.”
“What?”
Sighing, Damian shook his head. “Your exhaustion most be affecting your ears as well Drake, because my words are quite simple and yet you’re incapable of understanding them. Get some rest Drake. It will be good for you.”
“.......”
“.......”
“.......”
“Drake?”
“Can’t you for once in your life!” Comes the sudden outburst from the other side. “.... you know what, I don’t have time for this. Goodbye Damian.”
Staring at the phone in his hand, Damian blinked once, then twice. What had happened?
Did Drake just hang up on him? What in the....
Slamming the phone back down, ignoring Pennyworth’s indignant huff, he marches out of the kitchen and shoulders past a surprised Grayson.
“Dami?”
How dare Drake dismiss him. He had gone out of his way to communicate with him to.... to show Drake that he was wanted by father and Richard and what did that insolent, useless....
For some reason his chest hurts and he can’t quite pinpoint why.
--------
“A compliment will make anyone’s day brighter. Put a smile on someone’s face with a simple, well timed compliment!”
A compliment....
What kind of utter nonsense.
This website was proving to be even more of a useless tool than that stupid game Grayson had bought him the other day.
Still, it was his best bet and the memory of that smile; no matter how fleeting made him believe in this site just enough to decide to try their suggestion one last time.
Drake had not been around for the past week and Damian had thus not been able to implement his plan into action. The lack of the other vigilante presence had at first not concerned him much, but as days passed, Damian had slowly felt a sense of panic stirring in his chest.
What if Drake had already moved on? What if he’d somehow deciphered something from his phone call and come to the conclusion he no longer wanted to be associated with their family?
What would Richard think? Knowing that he had driven Drake away for a second time?
What would father think?
This was..... this was bad. He....
Swallowing thickly, Damian ran a hand through his hair and tried to center himself.
This was easily fixable. He just had to make sure Grayson called Drake and invited him over. If Grayson was insistent enough, he was sure Drake wouldn’t be able to refuse.
And then..... yes, he could work with that.
Another week pass and Drake comes up with all kinds of excuses to avoid coming over. And slowly the number of rejections seem to get to Richard. His downtrodden frame and sad eyes becoming his default expression around the manor. And father becoming more and more stoic the longer Drake wills himself away from them.
For a second..... for the smallest fraction of a moment, Damian feels a sense of vindication.‘Now you understand,’ he thinks.‘Now you notice how little Drake cares for either of your presence after everything you’ve done. Now you notice when he’s long since accepted your negligence.’
But as soon as those thoughts come, they go away just as quickly.
How could he even think such thoughts of his own father and Richard? They loved Drake. It was Drake’s own fault for not recognizing that care and for not.....
No.
It didn’t matter what any of the others thought. The point was that Drake wanted to be accepted and Damian could make that happen. He could turn Drake’s lies into realities and maybe then things would work themselves out.
He was robin and this is what robins did.
So when father finally manages to coax Drake to come visit, Damian is waiting at the entrance to his room, standing by the closed door and keeping his eyes squarely on the elder's face.
Drake who’d been looking at his phone the whole way down the hall, startles as he sees him. Face shuttering close and body tensing up as he expected Damian to suddenly lash out at him.
Damian tries not to take offense in that. Taking a deep breath; arms folded behind his back, he steels himself. “Your work on the construction project down by the docks have been admirable.”
Each word feel as if they are dragging like burning coal up his throat, but when the sentence is out, he feels a sense of relief descend over his body. There, he’d said it. Now Drake could smile and thank him.
“What do you want Damian?”
What?
Taken back, Damian mouth falls open at the sheer hostility in Drake’s voice.
“If you’re here to mock me again, I’m frankly not up for it. So go bother someone else and for once in your life, just leave me the hell alone!”
Damian doesn’t even have time to formulate an appropriate response before Drake has shoved his way past him and slammed the door shut behind him.
Left standing by the door; mind still reeling from the scathing remark, Damian wonders if any of this is even worth it anymore.
Drake was done with them. Perhaps it was time to accept the truth and inform father and Richard that there was nothing to be done.
But just the thought of them looking heartbroken and then.... Just the thought of them then.... just accepting it and moving on as if nothing happened.... forgetting about Drake and giving him “space” to sort himself out which he never would because..... of course he never would and.... Damian felt sick just thinking about it.
No,
He could fix this. He just needed a better plan.
Yes, a better plan.
---------------------------------
Buying Drake lunch and visiting him at the company to give it to him goes as badly as his previous attempts.... in fact, it goes even worst.
“Are you trying to poison me!” Slapping the vegetarian meal out of his hands, Drake practically snarls at him; eyes wild and stricken with emotions Damian had a hard time deciphering. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why--- Why can’t you just leave me alone! Fuck Damian. I haven’t done anything to you. I’ve..... just,” he looks exhausted. Dark circles painted like ink under his eyes. Drake’s bottom lip is quivering, fingers practically vibrating against the desk and---
Sitting back down, Drake sighs, Damian had yet to move from his frozen position, arms still stretched outward; hands empty now that his well-prepared meal had been knocked off.
“Just go!” It’s a hissed dismissal, a hate filled wish for Damian to just go away and never come back.
So he does.
Without a word he turns on his heels and flees. The surprised shout from Drake falling on deaf ears as he takes the steps two at a time.
He should have known better.
Drake and him..... there were no fixing things.
Drake would never smile again and there was nothing he could do to change that.
It was over.
His brother had made that very clear when he interpreted any kind of gesture from his as a threat to his life. How could he possibly come back from that? Too much history, too much blood had been spilt between them. Damian had been a fool to think he could be the one to make Drake feel accepted again.
Robin.....
Drake did not require a robin. He required a non-Damain. He required Richard or father to step up and clear the air. Damian had been silly to assume... to think...
Blinking furiously, he tries to stop the itch in his eyes from tearing him apart.
He would not cry.
This was not his fault.
He had tried.
Grayson had said.... sometimes good intentions mattered just as much as good results, and Damian had tried. He had.
--------
He goes to avoid Drake after that.
Each time the other vigilante shows up at the manor, Damian makes himself scarce. Doing his utmost best to ensure that Drake would not experience a similar break down in his presence ever again.
Still, he does keep an eye on the other.
Of course he does it from relative obscurity where Drake wouldn’t be aware of his presence, but...... try as he might, he can’t help but to follow him around, to note how little Drake seems to have changed from the first day he noticed his lies.
Drake is still living a lie and no one is the wiser.
No one but Damian.
Too bad Drake did not appreciate his gestures of good faith.
“Why are you following me around?”
He stiffens. “I do not know what you’re implying Drake, but I suggest you keep your imbecilic assumptions to yourself.”
Damian should have been more careful.
When Drake finds him, Damian had been hiding behind a shelf in the library on the second floor, where his eyes had been tracing after the hunched over form of one Timothy Drake Wayne, until he of course dozed off in the most untimely moment ever and now here he was, Drake standing in front of him arms crossed and eyebrows tilted up in suspicion.
“You’ve been acting weird the last few weeks and I’m tired of looking over my shoulder all the time, so spill! What the fuck do you want with me?”
Damian wants a lot of things.
He wants a life that makes sense.
He wants to go to school and not feel like an outsider.
He wants Richard and father to be happy again.
He wants Todd to stop acting as if he isn’t wanted and come home.
He wants.......
“I wish you could smile again.”
He wants Timothy not to be sad anymore.
“I want you to be happy again.”
Drake eyes widen and his mouth falls open. The clear surprise evident in his eyes.
And it hits Damian then. How little this was about Richard or father. How little it was about tying the family together and how much it was about trying to fix something he’d been a part in breaking.
He’d forgotten how easily Drake used to smile. He’d forgotten because he only saw it once.
Once, when Drake had reached out to him, smiled and welcomed him into the family.
Damian had spat at his gesture then. Tried to kill him..... and.... But Drake used to smile. In all those photos. In those albums hidden at the very depth of father’s closet. There were pictures and.... Drake used to smile and laugh and..... Drake had a dimple. At the very center of his left cheek and it didn’t appear often but whenever he was laughing it would show up and.... that was genuine. It was warm, it was honest.
Drake didn’t used to have to lie to others and fake something he no longer felt but now....
Maybe Damian couldn’t fix things, but.... maybe he could be honest. With himself, with his brother.
“I was trying to--
“Make me smile,,” the words are nothing but a whisper. But the sheer wonderment in Timothy’s voice makes Damian’s eyes burn.
“Yes.”
“Oh”
“And of course I have failed in my endeavor.” He doesn’t know why he’s still talking. “And I should have known as I’m the least likely person you would ever trust to be sincere towards you. But...” Why does his chest hurt? “I wished to help you regain---- you used to be happier before I arrived and---” Perhaps his attempts no matter how well intentioned could never make up for the horrors he’d inflected.
Perhaps he was destined to never build the bridges he’d burned down with his own two hands.
“The phone call and compliment and fo--- you were trying to...” Drake’s eyes are in danger of falling out of their sockets from how wide they are now.
Damian nods: lips thin and chest heaving painfully.
“Oh”
The words are nothing but a whisper and Damian finds himself burning up with shame at Timothy’s realization.
How pathetic he most look.
But then.... just a moment before Damian decides to flee the scene all together, Timothy’s eyes light up. A sudden sense of brightness bleeding through his wide-eyed gaze and..... his lips pull at the corners, a giant, blossoming smile practically drowning out his cheeks and---
There—the dimple.
Right at the center.
“Oh wow.... thanks Damian. I--- Thanks.”
It’s so unexpected. The genuineness of it all. How easily Timothy had managed to smile again, just from.... He’d put two and two together, figured out what Damian’s disastrous attempts had been about and..... somehow that had made him smile when nothing else had.
And----
Damian bursts into tears. Loud, startling sobs wrecking his body.
And it’s all he can do not to throw himself at his brother. All he can do to keep himself from falling apart then and there, because..... it was as if finally.... finally a weight of insurmountable proportions had fallen of his shoulders.
Timothy steps closer than, not privy to his own despairing thoughts of what he does and does not deserve and engulfs him in one of the warmest hugs Damian had ever experienced.
“Thank you kid.”
“I.... of course---Drake.... I... I apologize for... I’m so....rry I... Thank you.” The words come out choked up, incoherent and in fact, highly embarrassing of a mess, but Timothy’s warm laughter makes it all worth it and Damian finds himself burying his face even further into his older brother’s chest and clutches even tighter to the back of his shirt.
Because Timothy was happy at this very moment and Damian did that. He did that all on his own.