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Dick stared at the wall, his head spinning.
Damian has been… withdrawing, recently.
He knew, he fucking knew he shouldn’t have gone back to Blüdhaven. Dami had been doing so well. He’d started lowering the overwhelmingly impenetrable walls that he usually had up, asking for help with things, grudgingly revealing what he was actually feeling.
He’s in his room all the time. There are days he only comes out for patrol.
He’d started sketching, filling up notebook after notebook with the most beautiful drawings, of Titus, of the flowers in the greenhouse, of the elaborate designs on the banisters. Once, a charcoal sketch of Dick and Alfred making cookies in the kitchen, Dick’s expression caught mid-laughter. He hadn’t realized Damian had seen them.
He’s curt, rude, arrogant.
It was difficult for any child to understand their own emotions, and it was especially hard for one who had suffered so much at such a young age. Small, simple joys were still foreign to him, and sometimes that confusion and frustration spilled out as anger and jibes. He had gotten so much better though, at sorting through the tangle of what he was feeling and saying what he actually meant.
He doesn’t listen to me. Sometimes I think he deliberately goes out of his way to disobey direct orders.
Damian didn’t listen to instructions he disagreed with, not if they were given as orders. Dick knew now how to reason with the kid, to explain why it was best to do something a certain way, and to listen to him and take his judgement into consideration as well.
You should talk to him, Bruce had said, before adding, grudgingly, he listens to you.
Dick didn’t know if that was entirely true. He didn’t know if Damian still trusted him, after he’d left him in Gotham. If Damian still loved him, now that he tried not to call and visit so much. He thought that Damian would want to get closer to Bruce, get to know his real father and the real Batman, not the struggling shadow that Dick had been. He’d tried to give them space to grow together.
What if he’d made a mistake?
“You’re weirdly quiet today.”
Dick looked up. “Hmm?”
Jason shrugged. Dick had cashed in a favour and called him for backup on a case, which had led to the two of them up on a rooftop in Blüdhaven, staking out a warehouse. It was looking like this night was going to be a bust though, and Jason was taking advantage of the relative quiet to clean out his guns.
“Normally you’re all ‘What’s up Jay?’ and ‘How’s everything going??’ and ‘Do you want to talk about your feelings Little Wing?'.”
That made him laugh. “Do you want to talk about your feelings?”
“I think I’d rather be blown up again, but thanks.” Jason unzipped a pocket in his boot and pulled out a familiar looking red playing card. He held it up. “Uno Reverse, time to talk about your feelings.”
Dick blinked. “Do you just carry that around with you?”
“It worked on the Riddler once,” Jason said, tucking the card back into his boot. “You should get one. Now talk. What’s bothering you?”
Dick hesitated. “It’s nothing bad. I’ve just… kind of been thinking of going back to Gotham.”
Jason put down his gun. “Permanently?”
“No,” Dick said, “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Such clarity of thought, no wonder you’ve saved the world so many times.”
“Shut up.” Dick raked a hand through his hair. “Not permanently, just. Maybe for a few years?”
“No,” Jason said.
Dick frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean no,” Jason said, “It’s an absolutely terrible idea. Quite possibly your worst one yet, and I’m including Discowing there.”
“You fucking wish you could pull off Discowing,” Dick replied automatically. “No, listen, it’s for Damian.”
“Still no.”
“Will you let me finish?” Dick kicked at Jason’s shin, prompting him to retaliate by flinging his oil-covered rag at him. “Ew, that’s disgusting, what the fuck. Look. B told me that him and Dami have been having problems. Damian’s been closing off, not talking, not coming out of his room. I just… he’s been doing so well recently, I don’t want him to- to have to build his walls back up, you know?”
“Still no,” Jason repeated. Dick made an irritated sound because Jason was the one who’d started this whole talk about your feelings thing. “No, Dick, seriously. Look, I know you care about the kid. I love him too, we all want the best for him. But having problems with Batman is something every Robin goes through, and we all dealt with it in our own way.”
“I know,” Dick said, “I just want him to have someone he trusts to be around.”
“He does, you’re literally just one call away, and if you start singing that fucking song right now I will shoot you in the knee.” Jason’s hand was a little too close to his gun, so Dick decided not to risk it. “You know he can get to Blüd whenever he wants. Which brings me to my second point.”
“Oh, this is a layered discussion,” Dick teased.
“Damn right,” Jason agreed, but quickly grew serious. “Gotham isn’t good for you Dick.”
Dick frowned, suddenly thrown. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, every time you go back to Gotham for whatever reason you end up really fucked up.” Dick opened his mouth to protest, because what the actual fuck, but Jason steamrolled on. “I’m not saying it’s your fault. But every time you go back you get dragged into Bruce’s bullshit…”
“Jay,” Dick said.
“No, I’m not…” Jason shook his head. “Look, my own issues with him aside. I get that he tries. But you and him have a complicated relationship, and right now I think what’s good for you is some space.” He waved a hand at the neon blur below. “I’ve seen you in Gotham, and I’ve seen you here in Blüdhaven, and you’re just so much happier here. I don’t know if you’ll be helping Damian, but you’re definitely going to be hurting yourself by going back.”
“Isn’t it worth it though?” Dick asked. He was aiming for calm, but it came out shakier than he intended.
“No,” Jason insisted, his eyes burning fluorescent for a second. “No, it’s not.”
Dick stared at the city under him. Tears gathered in his eyes until the lights swam together in a pool of colour.
Through the jumble of thoughts screaming at him, Dick could recognise that Jason was right, going back to Gotham was not a good idea. But he couldn’t just ignore the problem, he had to do something.
“Talk to him,” Jason said. “The kid’s twelve, maybe he’s just mad because he wants another pet.”
That got a laugh out of him. “Batcow wasn’t enough?”
“I don’t think it’ll ever be enough,” Jason said seriously, “Next he’ll probably want an elephant.”
“Okay, I would actually be down for that.” Dick hugged his legs and rested his chin on his knees. He’d head to Gotham tomorrow and pick Damian up from school, and they could have a long-overdue talk.
It was going to be fine.
“Is there a purpose to this?”
Dick laughed. “It’s bubble tea, not a training exercise.” No doubt Bruce could turn it into one though.
“Tt.” Damian dragged his nail through the condensation on the side of his cup. “I thought if you came here then it was for something important.”
“I did, I came here for you.” Dick expected the usual eye roll, but he didn’t expect the scowl that he got.
“What has father been telling you?” Damian demanded. “My training is progressing adequately, I don’t see why he has to complain about me.”
“He didn’t complain about you Baby Bat,” Dick said soothingly, “And I’m sure your training is more than just adequate. Bruce was just worried about you, so I came to see how you’re doing.”
That made Damian frown, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Why would he be worried? I’m fine.”
“I know you are. He said you’ve just been quieter recently.” Dick ducked his head to catch Damian’s gaze. “Is everything okay?”
“I…” It wasn’t often that Damian faltered in his sentences, and Dick was immediately on edge. “Sometimes father is difficult to work with,” Damian admitted. “He’s not like you, he doesn’t listen to me sometimes. It’s frustrating, that’s all. I can handle it.”
“Do you…” Dick could hear Jason’s advice resonating in his brain. It felt like stepping off a precipice with no safety net. But this was Damian. It was always, always going to be worth it. “Do you want me to come back?”
Damian stared at him. “To Gotham?”
“To this, to us,” Dick replied, “Wherever. We were the best, you said. Do you want that back?”
Damian was silent for a moment. Then, "My mother had a house, away from grandfather and the League."
He paused, but Dick sensed it was an opening, and stayed silent.
"I was moved around a lot as a child," Damian continued, and Dick suppressed the urge to tell him that he was still a child. "I never stayed in one place for long." His gaze grew distant. "In mother's house there were always dry fruits and chikki in the cupboards. The trees in the garden would cover the ground with flowers every morning. Each room had a different embroidered rug, and sometimes in the afternoons I'd fall asleep on them." He looked up. "When I come to Blüdhaven, I feel like I'm back in that house."
Dick thought he was going to cry. “Come stay with me,” he said.
Damian shook his head stubbornly. “No.”
“Dami.”
“Richard. I have to stay in Gotham. I have to prove myself to father.” His fingers twisted together unconsciously. “As Robin.”
“You don’t need to prove anything,” Dick insisted. “You’re enough. You’re more than enough.”
Damian shook his head. “Of course I do. You know better than anyone that I didn’t have the best start as Robin.”
“That’s not your fault!”
“Tt, it’s not about fault, it’s about responsibility.”
“You deserve to be happy!”
There was a pause.
“Do you think I’m not happy?” Damian asked. There was no anger in his voice, just curiosity.
Dick raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “You’re not the most… expressive, of your feelings, which is fine! I don’t want you to change. I just worry. I don’t want you forcing yourself down a path you don’t want.”
Damian blinked, slowly. “I don’t want an easy life, Richard.” He looked up at Dick, his eyes wide, and suddenly Dick heard what he wasn’t saying.
He wanted somewhere he could come back to. He wanted to live in Gotham, but call Blüdhaven his home.
Dick couldn’t find his happiness for him, no matter how much he wanted to. Damian had to be Robin, had to fight with and against Bruce just like they all had. He had to find out for himself if that was the path he wanted to take.
And then maybe one day Damian could pass on the mantle of Robin, just as Dick had passed it onto him.
“Okay,” Dick said. “Okay.”
Damian raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Dick repeated. “I understand.” He grinned. “I know you know you’re welcome at my place any time.”
“Tt, as if your locks could ever keep me out,” Damian scoffed.
“I would never even try to,” Dick replied, trying to pour every ounce of sincerity that he had into his voice.
Damian rolled his eyes, but then darted forward and buried himself in Dick’s arms.
“Hey,” Dick said, pleasantly surprised. “You know I love you, right?”
“You’re insufferable.”
He ruffled Damian’s hair. “What happened to that house, by the way?”
Damian shrugged. “It’s probably still there.”
“Do you think Talia would let us visit?”
“You? Unlikely.”
“I could ask!”
“Keep dreaming, Richard.”