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It wasn’t as bad as the first time. It wasn’t as hard as the Blackest Night, or whatever the internet called it. Not when they knew what they were doing. Well…sort of. It didn’t matter, flamethrowers were just as effective now as they were then.
He and Tim were in charge of Gotham, all while Bruce and the Justice League worked something out with the Lanterns. Er…actually, Dick didn’t really know. He didn’t know what Bruce was doing or where the Justice League was. He didn’t know where all the other Gotham masks were either. All he knew was right now it was him and Tim against a bunch of zombies.
They’ve faced worse odds.
So no, it wasn’t hard.
Not until right now.
He and Tim had been separated – by Jason of all people. Jason, who had shown up with a chunk taken out of his arm. Jason, who was already too far gone to tell them who bit him. Jason, who had manifested two guns and was shooting at Tim like he was the Joker.
And Tim, the self-sacrificing little jerk that he was, pushed Dick away, off the side of an abandoned apartment building. By the time Dick got his bearings, got back up on the roof, Tim was gone. Jason, too.
But Dick…couldn’t go after them. He knew he couldn’t. Gotham still needed him. Gotham still needed someone to deal with everything else. He steeled himself, tightening his grip on the flamethrower, and turned back towards the city.
“Grayson.”
Any resolve he had disappeared in an instant. His eyes widened, breath became short, hands started to shake, the flamethrower dropped.
He’d hoped. Oh, he’d begged. When word got around that there was a new rising of Black Lanterns, he threw his agnosticism away, began praying to any higher power he’d heard of, any prophet that might’ve made a difference.
Please, not him. Please, anybody but him.
He’d take Jason. That would be okay. It would hurt, but he would be able to deal with it. He’d take Bruce, too. He’d take Superman, Wonder Woman, Donna or even Tim, at this point. Hell, he’d take his parents again, if he had to. That would be okay. He’d be able to take on the Black Lanterns of all those loved ones, if he was forced to.
But not Damian.
‘Spare him please,’ Dick prayed again, even as his lips began to quiver, his eyes watered. ‘Please. Oh god, please. He’s been through enough. Please, you’ve already made him go through enough, please, please don’t make me do this!’
“Grayson.”
Damian was in his Robin uniform. But it was a grotesque replica. Instead of red, his tunic was black. His bright green boots and gloves a medium gray, the yellow cape a dirty white. The R-insignia was nonexistent, replaced with the lines and pattern of the Black Lanterns.
The mask was peeling from his face, but still covered his eyes. His skin was cracked and dry, cheeks sunken in, hair brittle. He was barely recognizable, but still had that trademark scowl.
“D-Damian…” Dick tried to smile. No matter what, no matter what torture or changes the boy went through, it was still Damian. He was special. He was a good guy. He was a hero. He could fight the programming, he always had. “What’s up, b-buddy?”
“You know what’s up.” Damian said blankly. “You’ve gone through this before.”
“We’ve gone through this.” Dick corrected. Suddenly he felt his heart stutter. “Did you…did you get to Bruce already?”
“Not yet.” Damian responded. Suddenly, there was a long white blade in his hand. Dick only just noticed the ring around his finger. “You were first.”
“Oh. Well, I…I’m honored, Damian.” Dick tried to laugh, but it was futile, especially with the tears dripping down onto his face. “But you-”
“Don’t fight it, Grayson.” Damian stepped forward, the blade in an attack position. “Don’t make this harder than it will be.”
“For you or for me?”
Damian didn’t miss a beat. “For both of us.”
Suddenly, Damian was lunging forward, sword slashing through the air. Dick jumped back just in time. Damian hit the flamethrower. It didn’t break, surprisingly, just skittered across the rooftop. Dick fell, back hitting the roof’s ledge.
He couldn’t do this.
He stared up at Damian, the tears falling faster. Dick wanted to reach out, take the child in his arms and never let go, like he should have done all those months ago. Race him home to Titus, back into the arms of those who loved him most. Do anything but fight him. Anything but cower here, sniffling like he was eight years old again.
Damian didn’t move forward, didn’t go for another strike. His eyes were wider, though, behind his mask. Like he was surprised by what he’d just done. The sword disappeared from his hand.
He couldn’t do this.
It was too much, seeing all of Grayson’s emotions. Mostly love and fear and…greed? That didn’t make sense. There was green will, but not much. It wavered between that and rage red or blue hope.
He backed up a step.
There had to be a way out. Had to be something he could do. He couldn’t…he couldn’t kill Grayson. He couldn’t take his heart. He couldn’t hurt him. He turned his head, seeing the flamethrower nearby. That’s it. He’ll end thi-
“Damian?”
He looked back, and the sword was in his hand again. No, no he had to do this. For the good of the group. The good of the Black Lanterns.
“I’m sorry, Damian.” Dick whispered. “I’m so sorry we didn’t save you. That I didn’t save you.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Damian took two quick steps forward. Don’t hesitate. Hesitation creates doubt, weakness. “Don’t be so sentimental.”
But true to form, Dick didn’t stop. He just kept talking. The aura of fear diminished as the love grew. The greed too, but less so.
“You know I loved you right?” he asked. “That Bruce loved you? More than anyone in the world. Despite what they said, Tim and Jason and Alfred and Steph did too. Our whole family loved you.”
“So what?” Damian snapped.
“We miss you.” Dick continued. “Oh, Damian. We miss you so damn much.”
“Pointless.” Damian shook his head. But his eyes were still wide, he still looked so shocked. “I don’t ca-”
Suddenly something flew over the side of the roof. Dick only saw a mask, a flamboyant costume and guns. Damian growled lowly before Dick found himself surrounded by white, the sounds of a battle or argument beyond the barrier.
“D-Damian…” Dick shifted to his knees, reaching out to the shield. Black Lanterns were practically indestructible, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Don’t fi…please, be careful!”
Silence fell across the roof a second later, but it was still a few moments before the shield lowered. Damian was still standing there, but the blade was gone. His shoulders were slumped, flaking hands curled into fists.
“I was raised to be a soldier.” Damian said quietly. “And even in death, it seems I’m a terrible one.”
Dick leaned back on his haunches. The pink of love grew, and now the blue of hope was quickly outgrowing the greed.
“I can’t.” Damian sighed. Slowly, he peeled his mask off, and Dick’s heart jumped. His eyes were still blue. Muted, of course. Pale. But blue nonetheless. He still had a little color. Dick had never seen a Black Lantern as anything but monotone, let alone ever seen any with pupils. “I can’t…let them use you.”
Dick wanted to grin. Wanted to smile and shout to the high heavens. He knew it, he knew Damian was different. He knew Damian wasn’t evil, could never be evil.
“But I can’t let you escape.” Damian added. “I can’t let you set me on fire and then go back out there. You have a long career, Grayson, and many of your enemies are dead. Not by your hand, but they’re still bitter. They’re all out here, too, as Lanterns, and looking for you. Many of your loved ones, as well. It just so happens I got to you first.”
“And I’m glad for that.” Dick admitted without thinking. “I’m glad to have seen you again.”
“But I…” Damian’s hand shot up to his eye, rubbing at it as his eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed to stop their shaking. “But I can’t…rip your heart out. I can’t let them just use you for power.”
“Well…I appreciate your concern.” Dick murmured gently. “What’s option three?”
Damian sniffed and looked back at him. His face was blank, but Dick could feel his misery. “You know what option three is.”
Dick let out a dry laugh. “I do.”
Instantly, Damian was in front of him, crouched and reaching for Dick’s arm. “I’m sorry, Grayson. This is the only way I can…” Damian’s fingers were shaking as they wrapped around Dick’s wrist. “…I can protect you.”
Dick gave a genuine smile, even through his tears, reaching out and ruffling Damian’s hair. The greed and hope were both gone, Dick’s entire aura was pink. Dick was going to let him do this. Dick trusted him enough to let him do this. Damian hated himself. “I know, bud.”
“I’m sorry, Grayson.” Damian realized he was crying, too. He made it as quick as possible. He didn’t let his teeth linger, releasing Dick’s arm as soon as he tasted blood. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” The effects were instantaneous. Dick could feel the power of the Black Lantern burst from his arm, spreading up to his shoulder and across his chest. His finger twitched as a ring slowly encased it. The insignia across his chest became a bright gray, the black of his uniform remaining the same. But none of that mattered, not really. Not as much as the dead child sobbing against his forearm. And maybe it was stupid, but he felt a little excitement as he wrapped his other arm around his little brother. As he pulled Damian against his chest, just like he’s wanted to do since the boy was taken from them almost a year before. “It’s…it’s okay.”
“It’s not.” Damian shook his head, pressing his face against Dick’s bicep, like he didn’t want to be seen. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey,” Dick tensed his grip, but shifted so Damian was forced to look up at him. “This isn’t the worst thing in the world.”
Damian’s eyes narrowed angrily. “How? We’re both dead, Grayson! I just killed you!”
“Inside man, Damian. Maybe we can take down the Lanterns from the inside. Just because we’re dead doesn’t mean we can’t save the world. You and me, just like the good ol’ days.” It was going to be hard, Dick knew. He could already feel the need building in his gut to go after his enemies. To go find the Joker or Ra’s, tear them limb from limb and rip out their hearts. But he pushed at it, he buried it by holding Damian as tight at possible. He smiled encouragingly. “Batman and Robin can never die, remember?”