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Damian straightens, staring down his eldest brother with apprehension searing in his eyes, “You want me... to accompany you to... the mall?”
“If you don’t want to, it's fine too,” Richard shrugs with a small smile, “But Cass and Steph want new clothes, Jason wants to take a look at the new Barnes & Nobles that opened up. There’s also a camera store that Tim wants to check out.”
“If Drake is accompanying you, then I shall too,” Damian sniffed, crossing his and straightening with a huff.
Richard raised a questioning brow, but relented when Damian bristled, “Alright, Dames. Go get ready, then. We’ll leave in five minutes, okay?”
“Very well, I will be there.”
“Shotgun!” Stephanie crowed, shoving past Timothy and Richard in order to gain access to the foremost passenger seat. But before the girl could claim her prize, Jason intercepted with a tut. The man only grinned when she cried out in protest.
“Sucks to be you, blondie, you just should’ve been faster.”
She scoffed, “Ugh, fine! But no way in hell am I sitting next to Damian.”
“Guys, c’mon,” Richard interjected, “he’s not that bad-”
“I don’t need you to rush to my defense, Grayson,” he sneers, rolling his eyes when Stephanie gestured incredulously toward him.
“Ignore him,” Timothy sighed, stepping in and flippantly waving his hand and shepherding the blonde into the vehicle. Cassandra filed in after him, and Damian found himself bringing up the rear, “At least you don’t have to live with him.”
Damian twitched, feeling an unfamiliar feeling flicker in his chest, stinging like a strange creature was tearing into his flesh.
“Ugh, you don’t even live with him,” Stephanie groaned, “You literally have your own apartment!”
“Still! He’s a little demon child, and- ow!”
Damian glanced at them from the corner of his eyes, blinking when he saw the tail end of Cassandra smacking the back of Timothy’s head. “Be nice,” she scolded.
“Fine,” Timothy sighed, turning his gaze toward Damian. Thankfully, he fixed his posture, closing his eyes and continued to pretend that he cared not of his lessers’ opinions.
But, with his eyes closed, the child didn’t see the flash of guilt that crossed the third and fourth Robin’s expression as he registered only the sound of Jason’s classical music playlist, and the gentle rumble of the minivan as Richard chauffeured them to the mall.
“Alright, where are we going first?” Richard grinned, placing his hands on his hips as he surveyed them with attentive eyes.
There was a fountain bubbling distractedly a few feet to his left, the lights four ceiling tiles away flickered, and Damian already found himself wanting to leave. Not to mention the gaggle of teenagers a few meters away were loudly cackling, and their volume grated against his ears and made it difficult for Damian to focus on the others’ words.
“I’m going by myself,” Jason said, reclaiming Damian’s attention all the while turning and beginning his trek toward where he assumed to be the Barnes and Nobles that Richard had mentioned, “I don’t care if any of you follow me, just know that I don’t give a shit.”
“Well, that just leaves us, then,” Richard commented blandly, and Damian’s nose wrinkled at the smell of too-sweet pastries that wafted from the kiosk nearby, “Tim, do you want to come shopping with us?”
Timothy hums thoughtfully, reaching up to fix the headphones around his neck before shaking his head, “Eh, no thanks. Imma go check out the stores, see if I can find a new camera to replace the one I busted at... work.”
Stephanie rolled her eyes, “That’s all well and good, but we need to get going. Cass needs new slippers, and I forgot to pawn off Bruce’s credit cards! Come along now, Dickie boy, we have some rich bitch money to spend!”
Damian feels his expression pinch in distaste as Richard was swept off by Stephanie and Cassandra alike, leaving him behind with Timothy of all people.
The elder fixed him with an unreadable stare before shrugging, “Guess you're stuck with me.”
He peels his lips back in a sneer, “I suppose I am, Drake.”
Timothy sighs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket before turning sharply and walking off. Damian, having no choice in the matter lest he lose his sense of direction in the labyrinth that was the mall, hurriedly follows after Timothy. He privately hopes that his choice to follow Timothy would not come back to bite him.
Alas, rather than immediately take the shortest and most efficient route to the target store, Timothy had decided to meander around and take glances at electronics on display in shop windows. Even worse, sometimes when Timothy questioned the clerks about a product, they would look toward Damian and coo at him. Their voices would be obnoxiously pitched up, their tone patronizing and grating against his nerves until all that Damian wanted to do was lash out and scream.
But of course, while out in public, Damian was a representative of the Waynes, and he mustn’t let himself behave in a way that would reflect poorly upon his parentage.
After what felt like an eternity of aimlessly wandering around, they’ve finally arrived at the store. But as he stood by the entrance, Damian couldn’t help the way his heart seemed to pound in his ears. If he’d thought the entrance to the mall was hell, then Damian was truly mistaken.
The store was packed, filled to the brim with people. That in and of itself would not pose a challenge to Damian. He’s no stranger to hoards of bodies when in the league, where he’d be right in the center of a crowd of assassins. But unlike the League, this hell hole was loud.
People were chattering and talking at what felt like their top volume, children screamed, music blared, the smell of too-strong cologne, over-the-top body spray, and body odor assaulted his senses all at once.
For the first time since his training concluded, Damian felt small. He felt so utterly... helpless.
“-amian? Hey, Damian, what’s the-”
“Shut your mouth, Drake,” Damian snapped, jerking himself back to reality with a firm shake of his head. What was he doing? Was he really scared of a few people? Damian has been in worse situations before. What would Father think if he couldn’t handle a little crowd? What would Mother think? “Hurry up and purchase whatever you’ve come here for, and then we shall leave.”
“...Fine,” Timothy replied, his tone strangely indecipherable. Though, with how Damian’s hands trembled with the effort of keeping himself focused, he couldn’t find the effort in himself to begin deciphering Timothy’s oddities.
They stepped in, and Damian immediately began to regret everything.
People were pressing up against him, touching his arms and brushing against his back. A scream rang into the arm, piercing Damian’s ears and causing him to flinch. A strange pressure filled his chest, a burning sensation rising in his eyes as his breath caught in his throat. His teeth clenched, his vision blurred, and a scream pushed at the base of his throat.
He wants to leave. He needs to leave- he needs to leave-
Next thing he knew, Damian was somewhere dark. Something was pressed against his ears, filling his ears with soothing, wordless music while blocking out all outside sounds. When he inhaled, Damian smelled something floral with hints of honey. It was Timothy’s conditioner. A cloth was pressing against his face. When Damian reached up and pulled it down, he realized that the cloth was Timothy’s jacket, and it was the thing blocking out the light.
The man was also pacing by the door, his phone pressed against his ears while his lips formed words that Damian could not hear. Seeing the lack of headphones around Timothy’s neck, Damian made the obvious connection that the man had given it up so Damian didn’t have to suffer anymore outside noises.
Timothy turned, upon him seeing Damian awake, he said something before hanging up the phone. Then, the older Robin motioned to his ear and took a seat right in front of him. Damian frowned, removing the headphones from his ears and immediately wished for the music.
“What do you want?” Damian huffed, but the words carried no heat.
“I’ve called Dick and let him know we’re heading back to the van first. You can keep using my headphones, okay? I don’t mind.”
He inhaled, nodding slowly and averting his eyes. Damian didn’t want to walk- he really didn’t want to, but what choice did he have? But as he moves to shove himself upright, he feels Timothy gently grab his torso and hoist Damian into his arms.
Ignoring the burn in his cheeks, Damian forces himself to remain steady before putting back on his headphones and closing his eyes.
Perhaps, even after everything Damian had done, he and Timothy could still have a bond.