Chapter Text
Damian needs a whole week before he decides to look at Dick in the eye again. Dick is desperate, he doesn't even know what to say anymore, what to do so the boy —who is no longer a small boy at all— can pay attention to him. Everyone can feel the tension between them but no one dares to ask Damian or comment anything about it. Dick visits the Manor everyday, hoping someday Damian will greet him like he used to do, calling him by last name, maybe just a good morning, but none of that happens. It makes Dick sad, and they all know it. He's growing hopeless, about to give up on that one, one morning while having breakfast on the Manor, feeling just as blue as his suit, wishing Damian will forgive whatever it was that made him so angry.
So Damian is there too, eating his meals in silence when he sighs, turns around to face Dick and looks at him, as calm as ever.
"I know you're mad." Dick starts, aware that the kid won't answer, but surprisingly he does.
"Who wouln't be angry!?" and Dick feels he's going to go full berserk on him and Alfred isn't anywhere near to save him from his inminent death. "You ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years! And don't you dare to say it wasn't important. My cereal was important, Grayson."