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He was a liar.
That’s all he could think, that’s the only thought that would dare go through his head. As Grayson laughed, as he chatted, as he shouted and hugged, as he enjoyed his life.
It had to be a lie.
He had to be lying.
Damian could do nothing but cling to that thought. Desperately cling to that hope. Dick Grayson had to be putting on a ruse. Had to be putting on a front for their father.
He couldn’t truly be this happy, right?
Not after Bruce mentioned splitting them up.
And every dark thought Damian ever had came washing over his psyche. Was he really that much of a burden? Did Grayson feel like he was finally being freed?
Did he really not love him as much as he’d promised he did?
And maybe that was it – that was the lie. Maybe he’d been lying to Damian all that time, saying he loved him. Saying he cared for him. Saying he was important.
Maybe that was the lie, and now Grayson was overjoyed to not have to live by it anymore.
Because he hadn’t… Bruce had mentioned splitting them up a week ago, and Grayson hadn’t brought up any concerns he may have had about the change. Grayson hadn’t asked for details, hadn’t pulled Bruce aside to find out why. Grayson hadn’t argued for him, hadn’t fought for them.
And Grayson always fought for them.
He watched from the computer banks, curled up in the chair, as Grayson talked with Father and Drake. As he laughed and swung his hands around. He glanced at Damian only once.
‘Say something.’ Damian pleaded with his gaze. ‘Say anything. Tell me the truth. Tell them the truth.’
Grayson just flashed him a grin, and turned back to his conversation.
Damian felt a weight on his shoulders, a lump in his throat. He buried his face against his knees.
‘Batman and Robin never die. You said that.’ Damian thought, hoping that maybe, just somehow, he could project his thoughts to his brother. To his mentor. ‘You promised.’
He closed his eyes, sucking in deep breaths. Anything to stop his body from reacting to this wave of emotion. To this tidal wave of despair.
He didn’t want to lose Grayson. He didn’t want Grayson to let him go. He wanted everything to stay the same. He wanted his father alive, he wanted Drake to keep his independence, and he wanted to stay with Grayson.
‘Please say something. Please fight for this. Please fight for us. Like you always have.’ Damian’s fingers were trembling, and he dug them harder into the sides of his calves. ‘Please don’t let Father go through with this decision. Please don’t let him take me from you.’
Grayson chuckled, and Damian couldn’t read it. Suddenly, he couldn’t read anything the man did. Was it fake? Was it genuine? How could he be laughing at a time like this?!
‘Please tell me it wasn’t a lie. Please tell me I wasn’t a burden to you. Please say this isn’t what you want. Father will listen if you speak up. If you argue.’ Damian’s breath hitched, and he hoped no one heard it. ‘I don’t want it anymore. I don’t want to be my father’s partner anymore. I want to be yours. I want to be your Ro-’
“Damian?”
He jerked his head up, all thoughts draining from his mind as he glanced around. Drake and Father were staring blankly at him. Grayson was standing next to him, a look of mild concern falling onto his features.
He knew. Damian got through to him, he knew, he-
“Your dad and I need the computer.” Grayson said after a moment. “Do you mind if…?”
Damian had never deflated faster.
“Oh. Yes.” Damian uncurled, dropped his feet to the ground. “Of course.”
“…Hey. You look tired, Damian.” Grayson quipped, running a hand across Damian’s hair. He was too distraught to even attempt to push him away. “Why don’t you…why don’t you head on up to bed?”
“…Yeah.” Damian sighed, walking away, refusing to look at any of them. If Grayson wasn’t going to fight for them, then Damian wasn’t either. It was as the old adage went: if you love something, let it go. Besides, it apparently wasn’t worth it, his partner – his former partner, he’d have to work on that distinction – had made that clear enough. “Good idea, Grayson.”
~~
It was killing him.
Because he could see it, plain as day, bright as the sun. He could see the pain in Damian’s eyes. The fear.
‘Say something, Damian.’ He thought desperately, glancing over to where the boy was shuffling towards the computer banks. ‘Say something, and I’ll help you.’
It had started a week ago, and Dick had no idea what triggered it. What triggered his shut down, his close off. Damian suddenly went from always standing at his side to perpetually hiding in the shadows. To watching with those too big, too innocent eyes.
He wondered if Bruce had already done something. If in the few moments the three of them weren’t together, Bruce had said something, or looked at their youngest the wrong way. Because Damian was still so sensitive when it came to his father, and if Dick wasn’t there to translate, it could all go horribly wrong.
‘I’ll back you up, you’ve just got to tell me.’ And it was hard to focus on this conversation with Tim and Bruce, hard to focus on the case they were working on when the turmoil in his partner was radiating off of him like heat waves. ‘Why won’t you tell me?’
It was a selfish thought, and Dick laughed bitterly at the idea, lucky that it fit into the conversation he was having with Bruce and Tim. But, oh, how he wished Damian’s sudden behavior had to do with Bruce’s suggestion that they split up.
Because, it wasn’t a bad idea, of course not. After all, Bruce’s death had thrown the family into an uproar, and how many times did he lament being thrust into the role of Batman? Now Batman was back, and everything could go back to what it was. Dick could be his own man again, could go back to Nightwing. Didn’t have to worry about caring for a child, about holding up some legacy. He’d made his own for a reason. No shoes to fill. No one to really have to live up to.
He glanced over, found the kid sitting in the chair with his knees curled to his chin. Damian met his gaze, looking a little too much like a kicked puppy for Dick’s liking.
Besides, Damian wanted to work with his father. It’s what he’s always wanted, and who was Dick to stand in the way of that? Damian had done so much, and deserved so much in return. And Dick couldn’t be prouder of him if he tried. Letting him work with his father was the least he could do.
He gave Damian a grin – one he hoped conveyed that pride – and turned back to the others.
Still.
It was going to be a transition. And Dick was going to struggle. Going to miss the kid more than he ever thought possible.
Because the kid had done so much. Became so much more than what he had been ‘bred’ to be, overcame so many obstacles to become better than anyone in their family ever dreamed.
And if Dick was honest – he wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that little twerp.
Because Damian put up with him. Damian called him out. Damian listened to his teachings, held Dick to them himself. Damian stuck by him when no one else would, trusted him when everyone left, stayed when everyone ran.
Damian kept him sane, kept him grounded. Kept him responsible and good. He was drowning in grief after Bruce’s supposed passing, and if left to his own devices, Dick couldn’t promise he wouldn’t have ended up on the same path as the Red Hood.
The kid was his lifeline, and if Bruce’s idea came to pass, he’d lose him. Not permanently, not forever. But enough that it would make a difference. Enough that Dick would be alone.
And being alone didn’t hold the same meaning as it did before. It wasn’t freeing, it was terrifying.
And Dick wasn’t too vain to admit it – he was scared.
He chuckled. He, Nightwing, Batman, warrior of justice, dark hero of the night, been doing this since he was eight…was afraid of being alone.
Split up or not, Damian would probably disown him if he knew.
He looked back over to the boy and frowned. Damian’s head was bowed, hands tight on his legs, and was he…was he shaking?
Bruce suddenly made mention of looking something up on the computer, and Dick moved towards the chair instantly.
‘Tell me what’s wrong, Damian.’ He begged mentally as he approached. ‘Don’t box me out, not now.’
He stood there a moment, took in the details – Damian was shaking, he could see that now, - and gently called:
“Damian?”
The boy jerked, head flying up to look at him. His eyes widened all the more, and they just looked so aching, like Damian wanted nothing more than to let words fall from his mouth, to cry like the child he was and be coddled like he never got to be.
And then Dick saw it, the request in those orbs. He wanted Dick’s help, wanted Dick to do something. But Dick didn’t know, Dick had no idea what his partner wanted. What his partner needed.
He shifted to ask, to reach out and take the boy in his arms, to find out once and for all, what was plaguing the child’s mind-
Bruce cleared his throat behind them. Said something else to Tim about the case. And it was too quick. Dick’s mind was on autopilot before he could stop it.
“Your dad and I need the computer. Do you mind if…”
No. No, that’s not what he wanted to say. That’s not what Damian wanted to hear, he could see that, right there, in his shoulders as they dropped.
“Oh. Yes.” Damian moved to stand, voice cool and monotone. There was a wall around his soul, and Dick knew from experience how hard it was to break through. “Of course.”
He had to fix this, he had to figure it out.
“…Hey.” He reached out, ran a soothing hand over Damian’s hair, and already he wanted to kick himself. The gesture – and maybe even his tone – conveyed his concern, sure, but did Damian know he was listening? Did Damian know the real meaning behind his words? “You look tired, Damian. Why don’t you…why don’t you head on up to bed?”
‘Say something. Say something, Damian. Tell me what’s wrong. Let me help you. I’ll fix it.’
“…Yeah.” Damian stood, refused to look him in the eye anymore, kept his head low. “Good idea, Grayson.”
Damian walked away, and didn’t look back. But Dick could still feel it. That misery rolling in Damian’s wake.
His walls were too high. Dick wasn’t going to be able to reach him.
‘Tomorrow.’ Dick decided, as Bruce took his son’s place, spun the chair around and set right to work. ‘Tomorrow, I’m going to talk to him and find out what’s wrong.’
That tomorrow never came.
Nightwing hit the streets once more.