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Two months off, no question. That’s what Bruce had said.
But with no patrols, Dick found himself becoming a little ball of pent-up energy. And with Damian sidelined from being shot in the head – Dick shuddered every time, just thinking about it – there was no one to help him get rid of the excess. Or rather, no one else Dick wanted to help him get rid of the excess.
He didn’t like stopping. He never had. Damian was the only one who understood that.
So it surprised no one, least of all himself, when he ended up in Damian’s room more often than not. Most of the time, Damian was sleeping, chock-full of pain medication and sleeping pills. When he was awake, he was quiet, and listened more than he talked.
What was surprising, though, on this night, was that when Dick knocked gently on the door before entering, he realized he wasn’t Damian’s only visitor.
“Bruce?” Dick whispered, practically tip-toeing across the room. Bruce shifted in his chair next to the bed. “What’re you doing in here?”
“Thinking.” Bruce turned back to the mattress, where Damian was sprawled, fast asleep. Dick quickly moved to the opposite side. As had recently become habit, he reached out for Damian’s wrist, taking a quick measurement of pulse. “You?”
“This is my partner’s room. And Damian says partners stick together.” Dick gave a light grin and short shrug. “Where else would I be?”
“Hm.” Was all Bruce said in reply. Jason had said once that was a normal response, that Dick shouldn’t take it personal. But it was hard. The man hadn’t been back from the time stream long. And Dick hadn’t been around him enough to learn his quirks before he was taken from them. Suddenly, those sharp blue eyes twitched up, watching him closely. “You like being Damian’s partner?”
“Yes.” Dick answered shortly. “Did someone tell you I didn’t?”
“No.” Bruce hummed. “I was just…thinking.”
Dick glanced down at Damian’s face. Less grumpy now. Funny looking. “…About?”
“Changing things.”
And there was suddenly a feeling swirling around Dick’s stomach. “What kind of things?”
“You need to keep up your training.” Bruce explained bluntly. “You can’t do that at Damian’s bedside.”
“Two months isn’t that long.” Dick tried. “And I’ll…I’ll practice in the bunker. It’ll be fine. No problem.”
“Not good enough.” Bruce sat back in the chair. With the only light coming from the dark city outside, he looked his age. Maybe even older. “Damian should have known better than to make you dependent. You need to be able to work with others. Training by yourself in a bunker won’t do that.”
“I…I have worked with others. Damian never stopped me from working with anyone else.” Dick felt his heart starting to pound. “He…he did good, Bruce. Really. Even ask Jason, Jason thinks so t-”
“He could have done better.” Bruce muttered.
“No…no, he couldn’t have!” Dick found his voice rising instantly in defense. He glanced down to his mentor, his…his partner. Damian just continued to sleep. “He did the best he could with what you left him!”
“He could have done better.” Bruce repeated sourly. “He knows that.”
“He knows…did you already tell him that?” Dick spat. He could feel that knot in his stomach growing, his blood starting to boil. Damian warned him about being impulsive, but he couldn’t bring himself to think of Damian’s calming methods right now. And if the man in question wasn’t lying between them, Dick couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t have launched himself across the space to get in Bruce’s face.
“It doesn’t matter.” Bruce grunted, standing from the chair. “Come, it’s late. We’ll talk about who is available to work with you in the morning.”
Dick recoiled, blinking in confusion. “No.” He shouted. Damian jerked in his slumber. “No, that brushing off crap may work on the others, Bruce, but not me.”
Bruce furrowed his brow, silently taking in the fierce little eleven-year-old in front of him. “Quiet.” Was all he could think of to say. “You’ll wake him.”
“I don’t care.” Dick hissed. “Bruce, Damian did everything. Everything he could. To protect Gotham. To keep the family together. To compromise with the Justice League. To honor you and your life.”
“You act as if I was unaware of that.” Bruce shot back. Then he shook his head, like he was surprised by what he’d done. “It’s just…” He shook his head once and turned towards the door. “I’m not going to argue with a child.”
Dick watched, not moving an inch. When Bruce was at the door, he called, “And I’m not going to work with anyone else. I don’t want to.”
Bruce didn’t slow, and was quickly out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Dick sighed, shoulders dropping as the fight suddenly left his soul.
Bruce didn’t know what he was talking about. He was wrong. He shouldn’t say those things about Damian, not until he had the facts. Because if he had the facts, he wouldn’t be saying anything at all.
Dick pursed his lips and, without another thought, plopped onto Damian’s bed. He curled into Damian’s side, reaching behind him to wrap his mentor’s arm around his shoulders. Held his wrist to take his pulse one more time. Once he was sure it was steady – and most importantly, there – he dropped his head, closed his eyes and whispered.
“I don’t want to.”