Chapter Text
It surprised him, when his phone rang.
Not because it rang. Oh no, it was practically ringing off the hook these days. Once, his phone went dead without him ever touching it because it rang so often in just the few hours of that morning.
People trying to find him. People pretending to care. Pretending to be his family. His friends.
Whatever.
But no, his phone ringing this time…it was surprising. Shocking, actually.
Because it was Grayson’s ringtone.
Grayson, who had left them. Grayson, who didn’t remember a single thing. Grayson, who Damian had finally let himself accept was out of his life. Forever. Dead to him. Gone.
And now his ringtone was going off.
Dick was the only one he ever took the time to change a ringtone for. Everyone else was the default, even his parents. Because he didn’t care enough. And they didn’t care enough for him either.
Because it’s not like anyone else called him.
(Jon did. But Jon was now thousands of years in the future, and reception there is spotty at best.)
The short song was going through its third repetition now, phone twisting as it vibrated on the table. The screen was clearer now. The name Richard Grayson shone brightly.
He’d been avoiding calls. Avoiding this phone. Now it was like an out-of-body experience, watching his hand reach out and grab it.
He hit the button to answer, and slowly brought it up to his ear, but didn’t say anything. Still wasn’t completely sure it wasn’t a trick. Wasn’t completely sure he wasn’t dreaming.
He heard breathing on the line. He breathed back.
Finally, softly: “I know you’re there, kiddo.”
Damian’s breath hitched, and he swallowed the sudden lump in his throat.
This wasn’t real, he decided. Because Grayson was gone. Grayson wasn’t coming back. He accepted that. He’d finally, finally accepted that.
So instead of a greeting, he demanded, albeit dumbly, “How did you get this number?”
There was a moment of quiet, then Dick laughed.
“It’s the same number you’ve always had.” Damian could hear the smile in Dick’s voice. “So it’s still saved in my phone.”
“…If you’re looking for Batman, I’m not with him.” Damian deflected. Because, still, this couldn’t be real. This wasn’t. It was not. “Call Superman for his contact.”
The sense of joy vanished immediately. “I know.” Dick murmured blankly. “I know you’re not with Bruce.” A pause. “Tell me where you are.”
And Damian’s muscle memory was, of course, to tell him everything. Spill your life and your heart and your soul to this man like you have so many times before. Tell him how much it hurts, breathing. How much it hurts to exist anymore. How lonely you are, how lost. Tell him your fears, listen for the hope he always so freely gave.
But then his brain caught up.
Don’t do that. Because Grayson is gone.
This…this isn’t Grayson.
This is a trick.
He inhaled sharply. “You’ve always been bad at imitations, Father.” He spat. “And this is your most pathetic attempt yet.”
“No – no wait, Damian.” A near gasp. “Please don’t hang up!”
Damian found his hand tensing around the phone. Found himself, inexplicably, obeying.
“It’s not your dad. I’m not your dad. I.” Dick seemed to stumble over his words a little. “I came home, Damian.”
Damian narrowed his eyes. “Liar.”
“Why would I lie to you?” Dick demanded. “When have I ever lied to you?” He huffed in annoyance, and maybe…maybe a little something else. Pain? Desperateness? “Look, it’s not something to explain over the phone, okay? But I…I remembered. I remembered and I came home, and Bruce…” Dick’s voice changed now to anger. “Bruce told me what happened, what he did to clearly fuck it all up again, and that he hasn’t found you yet.”
Damian didn’t respond to that.
“I want to find you.” Dick whispered. “I…I need to find you, Damian. I need to see you.” A sigh. “I just need to make sure you’re okay.”
Damian glanced out the nearby window, stared across the Gotham skyline. He saw no silhouettes of vigilantes. No shadows that he could convince himself were moving. It was still too early. The sun wasn’t completely set yet. Not time for anyone to start patrol.
He didn’t realize he’d spoken until after he did.
“…Why?”
“Why…?” Dick breathed in a mimicry. “Why do I need to…” More sounds that weren’t words. Just confusion. Just disbelief. “Because I love you, Damian.”
Damian immediately scoffed. Opened his mouth to respond. “You-”
“And you know what’s great about that?” Dick cut off with a frustrated drawl. “You don’t get to tell me I can’t.”
Damian’s mouth snapped shut.
“You don’t get to tell me if I’m allowed to love you or not. You don’t get to control my emotions, or give me reasons you think I shouldn’t. Because I’m going to anyway. Because I do anyway.” There was a manic-ness in his voice now. A panic. A near-fury. “And because I love you, because I miss you, I’m going to find you. Whether you want to be found or not.”
There was no other sound on Dick’s end of the line, but Damian found his eyes darting across Gotham anyway, looking for a weightless man. Looking for Nightwing.
“I only called as a courtesy. I thought…I thought maybe you’d want to see me too. So you’d tell me.” Dick was calm again. Quiet. Thoughtful. Hiding the sadness. “But that’s fine. I was just hoping for a hint. But I’ll find you without one. That’s fine too. You know me, I love a challenge.”
Damian felt his lips tremble. Tears well into his eyes.
With Father, it was easy. Because Father didn’t use words. Father barely looked at him. So there was never that awkward moment of love being professed to him. He knew, deep down, maybe, that his father, his family, loved him. And most days, that was good enough.
But assuming, hoping, dreaming you were loved was never good enough for Dick Grayson. He had to let you know, be 100% sure you knew. He had to tell you.
And he’d told Damian that before. Many times. But it’d never hit as hard as it did right now, as he stood in an empty apartment, on the phone with the person he cared for most. With the person who…with the only person who found him worthy. Who he thought was gone, out of his life for the rest of eternity.
And even after all these years, it was so much. Too much.
And he just didn’t deserve it.
Knew he didn’t deserve it. Just as Grayson knew how much he loved him despite that anyway.
“…Grayson?”
Because this wasn’t a trick. This wasn’t a dream. This was real.
He sounded so childish. So weak. He closed his eyes and scolded himself, even as the tears leaked through and down his cheeks anyway. Let disappointment wash through him even as his breaths became ragged and snot filled his nose.
Grayson had come back to him. Despite everything he was and everything he’d done, Grayson came back to him. Grayson still loved him.
“I’m here, kiddo. It’s me. I’m coming to get you.” Dick murmured gently. A second to think, then try again. “Just tell me where you are.”
Damian silently shook his head, slowly crumbling to the floor. He pulled his knees to his chest, hid his face in the crook of his arm.
“I’m not taking you back to Bruce, or the manor, or anything. We’ll go back to my place. You’re coming with me. You’re staying with me. No matter what. I promise.” Dick continued. Then repeated, softer, “Just please tell me where you are, Damian.”
So, sitting on the floor, sobbing, feeling relieved and hopeful and loved and knowing he didn’t deserve a second of any of those emotions – Damian did.