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Damian’s breathing had been far too shallow even before the plane had gone down.
The cold had only made it worse and even though Jason and Dick had done their best to cocoon the boy in an emergency blanket and the insulation from the ship, by the time they had actually managed to find a survival hut, Damian was barely breathing at all.
Jason had immediately set to lighting a fire with the wood that had been left in the cabin as the wind and snow beat against the walls outside while Dick focused on stripping Damian of his wet Robin suit, putting him into the spare clothes that had miraculously also been left. Apparently it was too cold here for moths to have eaten the cloth, though it also meant that it was far too cold for any of them if Jason didn’t get the fire started soon.
Damian had long since stopped trembling, his eyes glazed and unfocused, every breath distinctly wrong. The boy hadn’t so much as moved on purpose for the last hour and when Dick cupped his cheek, Damian barely blinked.
“I’ve got you, shh, you’re alright Babybird, I’ve got you…”
From across the small cabin, Jason cursed. He was still trying to light the fire, his flashlight the only thing lighting the cabin at all. There was no electricity here, at least none that Dick could see, and given that they were in the mountains fuck knows where, he wasn’t at all surprised.
Without that fire, there was no warmth or light.
Without that fire, there was no chance of Damian recovering.
Dick held him a little tighter, rocking him gently, making certain he didn’t move Damian too quickly, pressing a kiss to his too cold forehead. When Damian blinked, it was slow, his eyes barely reopening.
“No no,” Dick said. “Stay awake Bud, just a little longer.”
When Damian didn’t even hum in acknowledgement, Dick’s concern only grew.
“Jason.” He gritted out.
“Working on it Dickface.” Jason snapped back.
Finally a spark caught and Jason carefully tended to it, making sure he didn’t immediately smother it.
“Boo yah.” Jason said but it was weak, exhausted.
Jason shuffled back a little, then listed to the side.
Dick’s instincts screamed at him to catch Jason but Jason steadied himself and Damian was still in Dick’s arms.
“What the hell was that?” Dick demanded.
It was a show of just how exhausted Jason was the fact that he didn’t try to flip it off as nothing. He simply took in a breath and twisted towards Dick. He pulled up his jacket, and the soaked shirt beneath, showing deep bruising across his entire abdomen.
“Jay.” Dick breathed, his eyes wide.
“Nothing we can do about it here.” Jason said. “Focus on the kid. I’m going to go get some snow to boil.”
“Jason, no, you need to rest, we need to get you to-”
“A hospital?” Jason’s laugh was loud and without humour. “The closest doctor is probably hours away from here and that’s if we’re lucky. There’s shit all we can do about me, but we can warm Dames up and makes sure he does’t get worse.”
“Jason, why on earth didn’t you say anything?”
“Don’t give me that.” Jason snapped. “You would have done the exact same and before you claim otherwise, I know full fucking well that you redid your shoulder in the crash. It’s probably hurting like a bitch right about now but you’ve been ignoring it in order to hold Damian, haven’t you?”
Dick cradled his baby brother a little closer.
Jason sighed deeply, readjusting until his back was against the side of the fire place. He should really get changed into the dry clothes that Dick hadn’t taken for himself, his jacket was warm sure but the inside of it had been saturated with snow and Jason’s lips were already tinged blue unless that was because of the blood loss.
Blood loss.
Jason was bleeding internally.
Jason was bleeding internally, Damian was severely hypothermic and sick with whatever the fuck he had developed on the way back home before they had crashed in the middle of nowhere and Dick’s arm was aching beyond measure.
“Hey,” Jason said, offering a weak smile. “At least there’s plenty of ice for your shoulder.”
“Shame there’s not enough to make you stop talking.”
“Oh I’ll stop talking soon enough Big Bird.”
“Don’t say that.” Dick snapped.
Jason blinked.
He leaned forward, hissing as he pulled on his injuries. How Dick hadn’t noticed them until now, he had no idea. No, that wasn’t right. Jason had been very particular in letting Dick carry Damian even though ordinarily he would fight to be the one to protect the younger boys from any perceived harm.
Jason had insisted that Dick take Damian because if Jason had passed out, he would have risked dropping Damian.
“I’m sorry.” Jason said.
For some reason, Dick thought that he was genuinely sorry too, but not completely about the poorly timed joke.
“You’re not dying.” Dick said firmly. “We’re going to get out of here. Knowing Babs, she probably noticed the moment we went down and have triangulated our position already.”
“Yeah.” Jason said.
Damian shifted, just the smallest amount, giving off a moan.
“Hey hey…” Dick cooed. “I’ve got you, you’re okay Dami, you’re okay.”
“I’ll make water.” Jason said. “And I grabbed the electrolyte shit from the-”
The moment that Jason had pushed up off the ground, he was back down already, his legs unable to support his weight now that he had stopped.
Dick’s heart rabbited in his chest, going to ease Damian down onto the ground fully but Damian whimpered loudly, only settling when Dick held him ever close.
Jason waved him off anyway, but he was breathing hard, sweat beading on his forehead.
“I’m good.” Jason said.
“Bullshit.”
“Don’t swear in front of the Kid.”
“I’ll fucking swear wherever I fucking want to you fucking idiot.” Dick growled.
Jason’s grin was weak but it was genuine. He leaned against the fireplace once more, wrapping an arm around his abdomen.
“Watch your tongue, Golden Boy, you’re starting to still my thunder.”
“Well, you stole my mantle, so fair game.”
The grin dropped.
“Dick.” Jason said. “What’s going on?”
“What’s going on? What’s going on! You’re bleeding, Damian’s barely conscious, we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere and-”
“And it’s gonna be all good.” Jason said. “It always is.”
“More bullshit! All of this is some fucking bullshit! Everything you say is bullshit and I’m fucking sick of it!”
“Dick.” Jason said lowly. “You’re scaring him.”
Dick looked down, finding that Damian’s breathing had changed. Dick held him close, pressing a kiss on his forehead and hushing him, promising him that everything was okay, promising him that he was safe, that he was loved, that everything was going to be okay even though it felt like the whole world was crumbling around them.
Damian gave off a pained sound.
“He’s warming up.” Dick said.
“It’s gonna hurt like hell.” Jason said.
“I’ve got you, it’s okay, I’ve got you… Shh… I know, I know…”
It was going to take hours to fully get Damian to a stable temperature, it always took longer than the exposure to be fully okay again, but with Damian’s body already weak from whatever had been ravaging his system, being hypothermic was even more dangerous than it would be ordinarily.
When Jason stood up this time, he actually managed to keep on his feet, only needing to lean against the fireplace for a few moments.
“Where the hell are you going?” Dick demanded.
“Told you half a dozen times, Dickface, I’m going to get some snow to boil into clean water. He’s going to need to get rehydrated, and so are you.”
“I’ll get it. You stay with Damian.”
“You really think he’s going to let you let go of him? Fat chance.”
Dick glared at him.
He gently coaxed Damian down onto the ground but Damian was immediately shaking, giving off a sound that Dick never wanted to hear again. He was hurting and he was scared and he was just a little kid. Dick braced Damian up against his chest once more and he settled.
By some mercy, Jason did not gloat.
He simply grabbed the metal bucket from beside the fire place and a shovel, going towards the door.
Dick watched him like a hawk for any sign at all that he was about to collapse but Jason had slipped back into vigilante mode. He had a task to complete and he was going to complete the task, no matter what pain he was in.
Damian’s eyes fluttered, head tilting.
“Shh, I’ve got you… I’ve got you my little Robin, I’ve got you…”
For every moment that Jason was outside in the strong wind, Dick’s heart raced faster. Jason could have succumbed, he could have passed out or gotten hurt worse or any number of horrible horrible things while Dick was doing more than sit here cradling Damian.
Jason was bleeding internally.
Every minute not in an OR was a minute closer to…
Closer to…
Dick’s breath was stolen at the mere thought of it. He had already lost Jason once, he couldn’t bear the thought of ever losing him again.
Damian started fussing again.
It was such a massive relief to see that he was starting to move on his own, even if just a little bit, but as he came more awake he became more fidgety. His breathing was still off, his eyes glazed, but Damian had started going in between nestling in closer against Dick and trying to shift away from him.
Finally, finally, Jason returned.
The bucket had been completely filled with snow, though the shovel was nowhere to be seen, and while it seemed like a lot Dick knew that the amount would reduce considerably as water.
“Get that look off your face.” Jason said, readying a pot to boil.
“What look?”
“Like I’m already dead.”
“I’m not.” Dick hissed.
“Now who’s telling bullshit. I’m okay, Dick.”
Dick focused on smoothing the hair from Damian’s face.
“The Kid seems to be doing better.” Jason said.
“He’s still not breathing enough.” Dick said tightly. “I knew I should have brought the oxygen tank.”
“Sure,” Jason said. “Carry an oxygen tank on top of a surprisingly heavy murder child and the weight of all your sins. Great idea.”
“Jason, you are not being helpful.”
“I’m being very helpful. Voila, water will be done in a few…”
Jason’s voice trailed off.
“Jay?”
“I’m good.” Jason mumbled.
Dick held Damian ever closer, timing his every breath. Dick readjusted then, pressing two fingers against the pulse point of Damian’s neck. Slow, but a little faster than it had been before he had started warming up.
Damian’s eyes drooped.
“Not yet, Bud,” Dick said, tapping him lightly.
If Damian slept now before they were sure that he was okay, he could very well not wake up again.
The thought terrified Dick just as much as Jason’s injury did.
Damian was just a child and more than that, he was Damian. His little brother, and in a way almost like a son to him too considering what they had been through together when they thought that Bruce was dead.
It hadn’t been until they were already on the mission that Damian had showed any sign of being unwell but when it had hit, it had hit hard.
Robin had been unfocused and unstable during a fight and it could have very well cost him his, and theirs, life.
Dick had yelled at him, utterly furious, but Damian had only looked away with his head ducked low, his breathing unnaturally shallow. It was only on the Batplane that Dick had realised just how bad it was, the boy slumping forward in his seat.
He had barely reached Damian’s chair when all at once the plane was shuddering hard, affected by the sudden storm.
Dick didn’t remember the crash, he only remembered coming awake all of a sudden surrounded by snow, having been flung several feet away from the plane.
Jason had known that he was hurt even then, he must have known. Jason had been awake before Dick had, he had known about his severe internal injuries and he had not once mentioned them even though Dick had asked him time and again if he had been hurt.
When the plane’s fuel caught on fire, they had had no choice but to abandon it, hoping to find a cave or something to ride out the rest of the storm.
They had had to go a lot further than either of them had expected, Dick’s shoulder hurting as he carried Damian through the snow, with Jason being the one to have spotted the cabin.
“Nn…”
“Damian?”
“Nn… Night…”
“It’s me,” Dick said, relief surging through him. “Jason’s right over there, you’re okay.”
Damian’s eyes flicked towards Jason then drooped once more.
His breathing was far too shallow, his body barely having any strength at all. He was warming, giving a whimper as feeling returned to extremities, but even if they got him warmed enough they still had no idea how to treat his underlying illness, having no idea what had caused it.
Dick cupped Damian’s cheek. Still far too cold but at least he was warming.
He was warming, Dick told himself, he was warming and he was going to be okay and they were going to get out of this and everything was going to be fine.
“Dickie.”
Dick didn’t look up to Jason.
“Breathe.” Jason said anyway. “One moment at a time, yeah?”
But even as Jason said that, Jason himself was slumping a little. He was exhausted and in pain but he was shoving that aside as best he could.
Dick steeled himiself.
Damian needed him, but Jason needed him too.
Keeping Damian close to his chest, Dick carefully stood. Jason glared at him as soon as he approached, warning Dick to stay away, but Dick hadn’t fallen for that look ever. He knelt down beside Jason, shifting until Damian’s legs were draped over Jason’s, one of Dick’s arms wrapping around Jason’s shoulder.
At first Jason tensed but then he leaned hard against Dick’s side, his body giving an involuntary shudder.
Damian for his part just drifted, his blinks slow, head laid upon Dick’s chest.
“It hurts.” Jason whispered.
“I know…” Dick pressed a kiss against his forehead. “But I’ve got you Little Wing.”
“Always did.”
“Always will.” Dick promised.
While the footprints leading away from the crash site had been covered in snow hours ago, Red Robin had found a hidden message in some of the wreckage, indicating which direction the occupants had gone in search of shelter.
Batman had made the discovery just as Red Robin had, already tearing off in the direction as Red Robin pondered the reason as to why Nightwing, Red Hood and Robin hadn’t just stayed here. Then he noticed the charring that wasn’t quite consistent with the rest of the damage and he knew at once that the fuel had partially ignited, though by some miracle the fire had not reached the backup fuel.
They would need to come back to this site later, make sure there was no incriminating or dangerous technology here, but right now the priority was to find the others.
Even having prepared for the cold weather, wearing a suit designed for such conditions, Red Robin’s breath felt cold in his lungs, icicles forming on his eyelashes. Hurrying to keep up to Batman did little to warm his cold muscles but he forced himself to move all the same.
It was too risky to get separated in an area like this, even if the weather had calmed considerably from what Oracle had reported as soon as they heard that the signal had been lost.
Somewhere on this mountain were his brothers. Given the crash site, it was very possible that any one of them could be hurt, and Red Robin had already relayed the information to Oracle, keeping her in the loop at every moment.
Finally reaching Batman, Red Robin walked quickly by his side.
“They’re trained for this.” Red Robin said.
Batman grunted, moving faster.
“Batman.” Red Robin said. “They’re trained for this. They’re smart. They’ll have handled the situation as best they could.”
Red Robin did not promise that they were okay.
He could not promise that.
Red Robin could lie without any hesitation or remorse but he would not promise Batman that his Sons were perfectly fine if it was highly possible, if not likely, that they were not.
He did lie to himself though, telling himself that Dick, Jason and Damian were probably in some hot sauna by now exchanging stories about who had the most inconveniences caused by crashing in the middle of a frozen mountain with little to no resources around.
If one of them were injured, the closest doctor was three hours and twenty seven minutes away, and that was assuming that the weather would hold and assuming that their location was close to Red Robin’s own location.
They could have fallen down a ravine, breaking bones that hadn’t already been broken in the crash. They could have succumbed to the cold. They could have…
Red Robin shook his head hard.
He needed to remain focused. They were depending on him, he could not waste precious time and energy on what ifs. But by that same token Red Robin needed to be prepared. He needed to know every possibility so that he may start planning for them now.
“Red Robin.” Batman barked.
They had been walking for an hour and Red Robin adjusted the time away from the closest towns and Doctors accordingly. Every thought and plan in Red Robin’s head evaporated the moment he saw what Batman had found.
Shooting forward, Red Robin slammed to his knees beside Batman, helping him dig at the glinting red metal in the snow.
They moved quickly, as quickly as they could, Red Robin’s breath only returning when there was no person connected to the red helmet.
“They’re close.” Batman said.
Red Robin brought the helmet with them as they continued on, faster than ever before, finding the cabin within just a few more minutes. It had been hidden by thick trees and if it had been storming, Red Robin doubted that he would have been able to spot it at all.
He found that his steps slowed as he came up to the shelter, his heart dropping, because there was no light coming from within.
“Batman.”
Batman tore forward anyway, opening the door so violently that he may have very well broken it.
But as Batman stilled at the doorway, Red Robin found himself approaching his mentor slowly, prepared for his mentor to flinch or lash out the moment he touched Batman’s shoulder. Batman did neither, his body completely still.
Red Robin eased his way passed Batman, taking in a steadying breath, before letting himself take in the room.
It was small, just like Red Robin had expected it to be. Simple wooden furniture, nothing that would be affected by snow if the dampness were to come in here.
And by the fireplace, three still forms.
Red Robin went to them slowly, forcing himself to breathe in deep even breaths, seeing that there was nothing but ash in the fireplace.
The smallest of the bodies was draped against the others, bundled in blankets. The oldest was holding the other two, protecting them, keeping them close.
It wasn’t Red Robin but Tim who reached out.
Dick’s skin was cold to the touch.
Tim pressed two fingers against Dick’s neck, waiting several moments only to find nothing but the cold. Jason… Jason was cold too, more pale than he should be even with the coolness. Blood loss, most likely.
And Damian…
Tim gently pulled Damian out of Dick’s arms, cradling the small boy.
“Hey Babybird,” Tim mumbled, cupping his cheek. “I’ve got you, okay?”
When Tim shifted his hand down to Damian’s neck, he was not expecting to find anything. He did it all the same, if only to know that he had confirmed it for himself.
There was a beat.
“Dad!”
Instantly Batman was there, pulling Damian from Tim’s arms and checking for himself.
Batman was incapable of looking at either Dick or Jason but Tim understood. He would look after his older brothers, even if their Dad wasn’t yet ready to tolerate losing anyone else.
But then Tim’s breath caught, his eyes blowing wide.
He twisted sharply to Batman.
“They’re too cold.”
Batman tensed, his lip trembling in a way that Tim but no one else had seen before had seen.
“They’re too cold,” Tim repeated firmly. “They’re not dead until they're warm and dead.”
In Batman’s arms Damian gave off the smallest of sounds.
They weren’t dead.
They weren’t dead.
They couldn’t be dead.
They couldn’t be.
Damian did not… Know where he was.
The knowledge should scare him, he should never be caught unawares of such vital information.
For some reason, Damian was not scared, he was warm. He was comfortable. He was… Laid up against someone’s side?
Damian’s eyes were difficult to open, so difficult that for a few moments longer he found himself drifting again.
What coaxed him fully into waking was a voice, soft and quiet. No, two voices. One was far more talkative than the other who mostly just answered in grunts or the occasional two word sentence.
Damian understood that he should know those voices, even though they felt far too far away.
There was… Something on his face. Small, almost like a tube snaking across his face. An oxygen cannula, he dully realised.
An oxgen cannula.
He was on oxygen.
That was unacceptable.
Damian’s hand snaked up to remove it, not wanting to draw attention to himself but unable to tolerate having it be touching him for even a moment longer, but his forehead was lightly tapped. Damian hissed right back at at them but they only chuckled.
“Yeah yeah,” The voice said. “I know it it sucks, but you need it okay? Just a little longer.”
Drake.
That was Drake.
Damian was nestled up against Drake’s side, Drake’s arm wrapped around him. It would feel nice if it weren’t downright degrading. Honestly! Drake was acting as if he were some child that needed coddling!
Jabbing a finger hard into Drake’s ribs, Damian pulled away only to find that while Drake had definitely cursed, he didn’t let go of Damian.
“Unhand me you foolish imbecile!”
“Okay, so maybe you are good to come off the oxygen, you fucking brat.”
That much was obvious except all at once Damian was coughing, weakly, but coughing all the same.
Drake’s expression shifted.
“Here.” Drake said.
Damian stared at the offer water with suspicion.
“I did not poison it.” Drake said.
Damian glared.
“Damian.” Drake said. His voice had become more… Damian didn’t know what, but more something. “I did not poison it. I know it probably doesn’t feel like it right now but you’re okay here, I promise.”
Here.
Here, where was here.
Damian cursed himself for his stupidity because the obvious answer was a hospital given that he was on oxygen and the bed they were on was not quite like the cots in the infirmary.
They were in a hospital, except Drake wasn’t supposed to be in hospitals when he can afford it. He is compromised, he cannot afford to be exposed to the resistant bacterias that are rampant in hospitals, he should not be here unless he required emergency medical aid.
He should not be here.
Drake should not…
Why were Damian’s eyes burning? He blinked quickly but they only prickled more, his hands trembling.
“Hey hey,” Drake said.
“Where’s Richard?” Damian croaked.
Richard was always here.
Every single time Damian had been admitted, Richard had been right there by his side. And Todd. Todd should be here too.
The second voice.
There had been a second voice.
Damian twisted in Drake’s arms and this time Drake actually let him, though the older boy still kept him from overbalancing over the side of the bed. Father was leaning forward, his hand reaching out towards Damian but not quite touching him.
Father looked… Old.
Older than he had ever appeared before.
Something was wrong.
“Where is Richard?” Damian demanded again. “And Todd.”
“Damian,” Father said, his voice rough. “You should rest.”
“No.”
Damian tried to rise from the bed fully but found himself unable. He listed instead, head spinning a little.
“Dames,” Drake said. “You really should rest, you have been very sick.”
“Where is Richard?”
Richard had been there. Damian’s memories were hazy but Richard had been there and so had Todd, they had… They had pulled him from the wreckage of the Batplane, they had… Richard had carried him? Damian had tried to walk but he couldn’t and Richard had carried him and promised him that he was safe, that he was loved.
Richard had been there.
And Todd. Todd had been close by too, talking to Damian even when Damian could barely understand his words.
They had been with him and now they were not here and Father looked old and Drake looked tired and Damian had never felt so alone before.
“He’s resting,” Drake said. “But he will be okay. See, he’s right over there.”
Damian whipped around.
The hospital room looked small, filled with three beds instead of one. Damian’s own, with Drake half laying half sitting next to him and Father’s chair off to the side, and then two more beds across from him.
On one lay Richard, asleep though his heart monitor declared him stable.
On the other lay Todd, his eyes also closed.
While Richard did not appear to be on any oxygen, only on a fluid drip, Todd was not only on oxygen but a blood transfusion also.
“They’re okay.” Drake promised. “It got pretty close there, but they’re okay.”
Damian shifted towards the beds.
His head spun and he tilted a little too far instead but Drake was right there to keep him from falling. Everything felt fuzzy, almost like things weren’t quite real, and if it weren’t for the horrendous thing on Damian’s face he may have thought it just some nightmare.
Damian went for the cannula again.
“Dames,” Drake warned.
Damian ignored him, pulling it off anyway.
“Bruce,” Drake said. “Tell him he needs it.”
“Damian lasted longer than you ever have.” Father said.
While Father still seemed old, there was the slightest bit of amusement in his voice.
Damian prepared to stand fully but Father leaned forward, coaxing him into staying on the bed.
“Not just yet, Son,” Father said.
“I need to see them.” Damian said firmly.
While his head was spinning even worse now off the oxygen, not that he would ever admit as much to Father or Drake, Damian felt the need to be by Richard and Todd’s sides in his very soul.
Drake shifted beside him.
Damian glared as Drake nudged him but then he relented, letting Drake gather Damian fully into his arms. He transferred his glare to Father instead, earning a tired chuckle but no further argument.
Drake moved slowly as if expecting Damian to not tolerate the movement and as much as Damian hated it, he found himself grateful.
As expected, Drake took him to Richard first, Drake leaning against the side of Richard’s bed.
Richard was asleep, if not unconscious, looking a little pale but otherwise okay.
Damian bit his lip. He reached out slowly, then took his hand away again.
“It’s okay,” Drake said. “You can touch him.”
“Why is he unconscious?”
Because he must be unconscious after all if he had not stirred the moment anyone came near him. Richard only slept soundly in the Manor when each of them were home and without injury.
“Dick’s body went through a lot,” Drake said. “He got a little hurt in the crash and then got far too cold for too long, but he’ll be okay in a day or two.”
Damian’s focus shifted directly to Drake, assessing him for any sign of a lie but coming up empty.
Then again, Damian had reason to believe that Drake was better at lying than he led on, not that Damian had found any direct proof just yet to back up his theory.
When Damian reached out time, he managed to take Richard’s hand into his own. It was a little cold, but not worryingly so.
Drake was slower to take him to Todd’s bed.
“Now we have to be careful,” Drake said. “Jason needed some surgery to fix up some internal bleeding. He’s going to be okay too, but we’re not going to lean against him just yet, okay?”
Why Drake was speaking to Damian as if he were a foolish child, Damian didn’t know. Then again, it made Damian feel a little bit steadier to know that Drake was keeping a close eye on Todd’s condition.
Unlike Richard, Todd stirred the moment they got to his bedside.
Todd’s eyes cracked open, exhausted, but awake all the same.
“Kid?” He croaked.
Todd was referring to Drake of course. Except when Todd reached out it was to Damian’s hand, not Drake’s?
“You okay?” Todd asked.
Again, this was not directed at Drake at all, but to Damian, as if for some reason Todd should be concerned about him.
“I am perfectly well.”
Damian did not need to twist to see that Drake rolled his eyes but Todd did not look convinced.
“I am well.” Damian said again. “Now.”
“You weren’t.” Todd said quietly. “You… You scared us real good there, Kid.”
Damian tensed, biting his lip hard.
He did not remember everything but he did remember warm arms and warmer voices.
“Where’s Dick?” Todd asked.
Although he shouldn’t be moving if he was recovering from emergency surgery, Todd twisted to the side the moment Damian glanced at Richard.
“Dick? Dick.”
As Todd’s breathing picked up, Father came over.
“Dick is alright, Son,” Father said. “You are all alright.”
They were in hospital even though the last thing Damian remembered was being on a mountain, Richard wasn’t waking and Todd was on a blood transfusion, they were hardly alright.
But Damian chose to believe Father anyway. They were going to be okay because they were all here together and that was what was most important.
When Drake coaxed Damian fully back into his arms, Damian let himself rest against Drake’s chest, revelling in the warmth.
He was drifting even before they returned to Damian’s bed but when Drake went to set him down, Damian’s hand curled in Drake’s shirt.
“Stay?”
It was foolish and childish and Damian prepared himself for Drake’s mocking laugh.
None came, Drake simply pulled Damian fully against his chest once more, settling the both of them on the bed. It felt warm and safe in Drake’s arms, warmer than Damian remembered being in a very long time.
“Rest Damian,” Drake mumbled. “I’ve got you.”