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The streets of Gotham, you begin to realize, are similar to home in all the wrong ways. Shadows creeping around corners, the glint of a knife blade and the click of a gun echoing through the alleyways, a maze of winding passages that lead you deeper, deeper, down until you're lost. You'd heard Damian speak of the city before, about the life in it, the thrumming heartbeat that leads him further in.
Now, though, experiencing it on your own, it's something else entirely. Gotham is just like home in all the right ways - in the way that it twists around you and ties you there, making sure you never leave. Damian loves this city, has grown to look down on it with fondness. Every night that you join him for patrol, you find yourself getting a bit closer to feeling the same way.
On this particular night, you're separated from him, the two of you splitting up to sniff out a trail of clues, to hunt down a gaggle of inexperienced, sloppy criminals. It's easy work, nights like this - the two of you have honed your skills far beyond this. It had confused you, then, when he'd gripped your face between his hands and let his forehead thump against yours, asking you to promise to be careful - to return to him safely.
It had confused you because… hadn't you always? And since when did Damian Al Ghul worry about the safety of others, the security of the fighters around him? Did he think you were incapable? Yes, these streets are not your own yet, but the heft of your sword in your palm is the same as it always was, the sturdiness of your steps reliable and constant. Damian should know, by now, that you don't have to be careful - that the two of you have already moved beyond that.
Perhaps it was because you were so deep in thought, mulling over everything that had changed between the two of you, that you didn't notice the flicker of a moving shadow, the movement ahead of you until the gun was already raised and fired. Your instincts, thankfully, aren't so frazzled as your mind and your sword knows how to block a bullet even in this strange place.
By the time you're bracing yourself to retaliate, though, Robin himself has already swooped in, slamming a knee into the chest of your assailant hard enough to knock him over. You click your tongue disapprovingly and move forward as Robin incapacitates the man swiftly, making sure he's unconscious and cuffing his hands behind his back.
"There was no reason for you to step in," you begin to say. "You weren't even supposed to be here. We said we'd go different directions and -" But anything you were planning on saying after that is knocked out of your chest as Robin moves to you quickly, crushing you against him in a hug as he wraps his arms around you, one tight around your waist and the other cupping the back of your head so that your face is planted in his chest.
It's… a shock, to say the least. Damian is reserved, even now, with his displays of affection, preferring to keep them away from prying eyes and in the safety and privacy of the Manor. You're not sure what's happening so you just… let it happen, wrapping your arms around his waist and relaxing against him.
"Don't ever do that again," he says breathlessly, his lips pressed against the crown of your head.
"What? Don't, Dam - Robin, what are you talking about?" You do pull back then, just enough to look at him, cupping his face in your hands so that you can stare into his mask. You can't see his eyes beyond it, but you don't need to to know the wild look in them, the panic and aggression that seeps into them. "Robin," you say again - firmly, this time. "Talk to me."
"You need to learn how to dodge," is all he offers in response.
"What?"
"You can't block every bullet like that. You need to learn to dodge them."
"Is… that what you're upset about?" You ask tentatively, still staring at him, searching his masked face for any sort of clue. You're used to this, thankfully, to hidden faces and hushed whispers, to the two of you dancing around the truth and holding back what you mean. "Are you… worried about me?"
Robin says nothing, but his grip on you tightens and his gaze flickers to the criminal still laying unconscious behind the two of you.
"You don't have to be - you shouldn't be," you continue. "Nothing's changed. We still -" But Damian pulls away from you then, speaking into his earpiece as he stares at you.
"Oracle? I need you to send someone here. I need… some cleanup. And someone to cover us for the rest of the night. Yes, both of us. We're going back to the Cave… No, it's nothing, don't - don't check the security footage, just…" You can hear it through your own earpiece, too, of course, Oracle having a bit too much fun with teasing Damian before she agrees.
Red Robin cuts in with a, "yea, yea, I'm on my way Rob, you two go home and sort it out." That's all it really takes for Robin to grab you by the hand, pulling you with him back towards the Cave.
The journey back is… silent. Startingly so. It's not uncommon for the two of you to share silence, but this feels different - this feels charged, like there's a tension in the air so dense that you can almost taste it. It's not until you're back in the safety of the Cave that Damian speaks again, peeling off his mask and watching as you do the same.
"I won't lose you," is all he says. You cock your head to the side as you look at him.
"You… won't, Damian. I don't know why you think you will."
"Because you're reckless and it's going to get you killed." Behind you, Bruce pauses his typing on the Batcomputer, a tap on his shoulder from Alfred and a nod to the exit leading him to get up quietly, throwing a look of concern over his shoulder as he gives the two of you a moment of privacy. You cross your arms and give Damian a hard look.
"I am not reckless. I know what I'm capable of. You've never before shown any kind of issue with my skill." Damian balls his hands into fists as he listens, that tension that you once felt growing even more, crackling like static between the two of you.
"I'm asking you not to take any more hits. You don't need to withstand every moment of violence, you just have to avoid them," he says calmly, a strained levelness in his voice. Your frown deepens at his words, though.
"Are we not equal anymore? Do you not… trust me anymore? Trust that I can take these kinds of hits?" There's a sort of smallness in you now, at the thought that Damian doesn't think you're as sturdy as you once were - that, now, when he can finally lean on you, he doesn't seem to think you're worth leaning on anymore. But he sighs at your words, stepping forward as he tugs the gloves off of his hands impatiently so that he can cup your cheeks in his palms once more, letting you both feel skin on skin. As he brushes his thumbs over the skin under your eyes softly, he looks at you, and you feel a bit guilty when you're surprised that there's nothing but love, nothing but adoration in his gaze.
"My love, there is no one that I trust the way that I trust you. But there is also no one that I need the way that I need you." Damian speaks gently, his voice soft in that way that you know is reserved only for you. "This is no longer a life where you have to brace for every impact. You're allowed to step out of the path of destruction. You're allowed to walk away from danger."
You sigh at his words, leaning forward to let your forehead thump against his chest as his arms wrap around you, one of his hands going up to the back of your head once more to stroke through your hair. You let your hands grab fistfuls of his Robin uniform as he rests his chin on the top of your head, The R insignia staring down at you from his chest, a beacon of something more than the two of you, more than the violence of your survival.
"I've just finally got you back, beloved," Damian continues quietly. "I will not lose you now, not again."
"You won't, Damian," you assure, and there's a bit more conviction in it this time, a bit more assuredness as you pull back to look up at him. "There is no grave that could keep me from you, no fate that could take me away." Damian closes his eyes at that, tilting his head back for a moment as if to let your words sink further in, to engrave them into his soul and keep them there.
"You will be more careful," he says firmly as he looks back down at you. "And you will call for me when you need help."
"And when you need help?" You say back stubbornly. "What will you do then?"
"Then, my love, I will call for you - as I always have. That is inevitable, you should know… that it will always be you I reach for in the dark." You huff at his words, a weak distraction from the heat in your face as you bury yourself back against his chest, listening to his heartbeat thump against your ear.
"Fine then," you say firmly. "Reach for me. I will take your hand."