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Just before he could fully drift off, Richard yelled from farther off than Damian remembered him being.
"...Damian? Damian!"
Footsteps crunched against the snow, getting closer.
"Babs, I found him!" He said, relief palpable as he shook Damian's shoulder.
Damian tried to open his eyes or say something but his body was no longer cooperating. Every muscle was a thousand pound weight, keeping him still. It took all his energy to stay lucid.
"He's- He's not waking up." Richard realized gravely, voice low and rough.
Damian could hear Richard's breaths quicken in a telltale precursor to panic. It set off a muzzy feeling of anxiety in Damian that made him redouble his efforts in trying to move.
I'm okay, Richard, he tried to say, but his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth, his lips about as malleable as a cliff face.
"-I can do this. I'm good." Richard assured with new resolve, responding to some unseen figure as he quickly gathered Damian into his arms and stood.
Richard sprinted at breakneck speed out of the alleyway, Damian bouncing uncomfortably with each bound until they abruptly skidded to a stop. He deposited Damian onto something warm, settling behind him and wrapping an arm around him. Richard murmured in his ear as a rumbling noise blazed to life, shaking them both.
"Don't worry, Dami. Leslie's going to fix you right up, hm? Just hang in there."
Then Richard's arm tightened around him as the rumbling revved up even louder and the wind began to whip around them. Damian tried to stay awake—to stay with Richard—but he couldn't fend off sleep any longer. He slipped into a deep dreamless slumber.
There was a hand on his wrist, a thumb rubbing small circles over his pulse point. Murmuring voices around him.
"-strong. He's fighting to stay with us, I know it." A woman—Was that Barbara...?—reassured as another hand smoothed back his hair from his forehead.
"I know." A voice - that was undeniably Richard's - said somberly. "I just- I should've been there. If I hadn’t-"
"It's not your fault, Dick." Barbara interjected firmly. “He isolated you, got in your head. Used his importance to you against you. It wasn’t a manageable situation. Not at all."
Richard chuckled humorlessly after a beat. The circles on Damian's wrist grew a bit more forcefully. "I don't get you."
"What about me?" Barbara asked quizzically.
"Why don't you blame me like everyone else? It'd make much more sense to."
Barbara hummed lightly, a couple seconds passing in silence before she responded.
"I didn't believe it from the start." She admitted bluntly, the circles Damian's wrist abruptly halting as she did. "I know Bruce and I know how he grieves, probably better than anyone else... both of us do."
Richard grunted his affirmation.
"...So when you 'died', I knew something was majorly off. Bruce pretended to grieve—even put up another tacky plaque—but he wasn't really hitting the right notes. He wasn't..."
"...Angry?" Richard offered. The circles on Damian's wrist started up again.
"Yeah, exactly. There was none of that barely restrained rage that made everyone walk on eggshells. It was hard to believe that you actually died, especially when his cowl footage of the day mysteriously disappeared before I could get my hands on it. I did a lot of digging and put out my usual feelers, but I guess I didn't do enough."
A beat.
"Y'know, if it's not my fault, then it's not your fault either."
"I know, Pixie Boots." Barbara said with a soft sigh.
"...Do you?" Richard asked poignantly.
A short silence.
"Maybe." Barbara conceded slowly, voice quiet. "Though probably not."
"Mm." Richard grunted. "You had to balance everyone's issues without me to keep the boys from tearing each other apart and Bruce from tearing them all apart. That's while you're training the girls and keeping them out of Bruce's orbit. That's not—What did you say?—That's not a manageable situation."
Barbara sighed with fond exasperation. "...Fair."
They fell into silence, Damian almost fell back fully asleep without the sound of their voices to keep the back of his mind occupied.
Then, "...What's on your mind, Boy Wonder?"
"I just... I just want my kid back, Babs." Richard confessed wetly. "I just heard that he's alive and then- and then this."
"Leslie says he's doing well as we can expect, but if he declines we can always call in the JL."
"...You think they'd actually help?"
"If you asked? Yeah."
Again they fell into silence and this time Damian fell back unconscious unbidden.
The next time Damian awoke he was a bit more aware of the fact he was awake. He could recognize the plush comforter beneath him, the IV connected to him and the soft lump tucked under his arm.
His eyelids were still heavy like weights; his mind was clouded by a heavy fog, too scattered to piece any of these things together into a larger image.
It even took a long moment for him to register the sound that woke him, which was someone speaking beside him.
"-gifts over there and cards over there. You have three minutes." Barbara was saying.
"Alright. Thanks, Barb." Said a male voice that Damian could've sworn sounded like Drake.
"It's nothing, Tim." Barbara dismissed, confirming Damian's suspicions.
The well-oiled wheels on Barbara's wheelchair made a near inaudible creaking noise as she left the room, the door clicking shut behind her.
Damian's muscles tensed involuntarily as he sluggishly realized he was alone with Drake. Where was Richard? Wait, no- Richard was dead. Why did he think otherwise?
Drake's clothing rustled as he presumably sat down in a chair.
"I'll uh- I'll keep this brief, De- Damian." He started with an odd tone.
"Jason and I got you some stuff from Dick's list. Some colored pencils, watercolor paper and a set of oil paints." He listed, setting them down with a soft clack.
Drake took a deep breath.
"I... I wanted to apologize too." He continued seriously. "Not for disliking you, because I don't think you want me to like you... But for not looking for you when you left."
"I- I really should've, or at least said something to the girls." Drake admitted lowly, a surprising amount of regret in his tone. "You're a kid. Even if I don't like you, even if you're a threat... I should've been watching out for you on principle."
Damian's lethargic thoughts struggle to fully assemble the meaning of everything Drake says, but his tense body relaxes slightly.
It's silent for a minute or two, the only sound being the soft inhale and exhale of both of their lungs.
"There's a lot of people waiting for you." Drake remarked unexpectedly. "Apparently you got all the Titans wrapped around your pinkie, they've been dropping off gifts nonstop. Plus Cass has been watching your pets ever since she heard what happened. Steph's already moved all your stuff from the Manor to Dick's apartment."
"And- uh, of course there's Dick. He's been here day and night, Barb and Leslie can't get him to sleep anywhere else. They had to set up a cot. I'm pretty sure Jason's worried about you too. He hasn't said anything of course, but he's been seriously... on edge since he heard."
"I- uh-... I'm waiting for you too. I made some gear. Vambraces, specially fit and colored to match your suit. They should be able to withstand a shotgun blast and deflect most blades once I'm done. You don't have to use them... but I hope you're able to at least refuse them, sooner than later."
A soft chiming melody played and Drake's clothing rustled before it stopped.
"Time's up. I have to go." Drake said, his footsteps trailing to the door.
The door doesn't open though, Drake apparently lingering before he leaves.
"Just... Just wake up, alright?" He finishes solemnly. "For your sake, because you didn't deserve this."
With that the door swings open, sound briefly pouring in through the doorway before it shuts behind him.
Damian stays awake a little while after, trying to grasp why exactly Drake had been there asking him to wake up, or why Damian couldn't wake up in the first place.
His last memories before then were blurred and muddled. A soupy mix of Richard's soft voice, the frigid cold and... and Tarzan of all things.
Damian reluctantly gave up on trying to parse what had happened, too drowsy to keep it up. He fell back asleep.
A sliding sound and two light taps as shoes lightly hit the floor. Clothing shuffled, growing closer. Damian's thoughts were more clear than ever as he slowly was dragged to lucidity. For the first time his training actually kicked in, giving more complete observations of his surroundings.
He was still in bed, still unable to move yet awake. (Was he in a coma...?) Someone was here, tall from the pace of their footsteps.
"Hey, kid." A gruff voice whispered, his mind instantly recognized it as Todd. "I gotta make this quick, Dickiebird'll be back soon."
Todd takes a deep steadying inhale.
"I'm sorry for being such a fucknut." Todd says sincerely, effectively stunning Damian with the most open care he'd ever heard Todd display for anything, ever. "I'm not letting this happen ever again. I don't care if you want my protection or not, you're getting it. No more dead kids."
Todd takes a deep breath, more shuddering than before. A large hand rests on his shoulder, Damian immediately tries to knock it off but his body takes exactly none of those signals.
"Roy's always hounding me about letting people in and not pushing everyone away. I- uh, ain't great at listening to Roy, but I figure he's right on that one. If- When you wake up we can bond or some shit. I'll show you how to shoot a gun so you can give Dick a heart attack or two and you can show me how you manage to piss off Tim so efficiently. Heh."
The tone and content of Todd's words shock him. Todd and him never willingly spent time with each other, why is acting like he cares now?
And why is he speaking as if Richard is alive too? He's- He's dead.
It has to be a trick, some sort of ploy... yet Damian feels like Richard was just here, holding him or maybe saying something softly, he can't fully recall. It must've been a dream, right? The last thing he remembers is being drowsier than he'd ever been in his entire life, half-awake as he dreamt of Richard in a snowbank. He'd been so, so fatigued in the cold and he could've swore he was watching a movie with Richard even as he laid in the alley-
Realization slams into Damian like an eighteen-wheeler.
The hallucinations. The strange warmth. How intensely lethargic he had been.
He must've nearly died out there. And... and now he's in a hospital bed.
Because he's in a coma.
Oh.
Beside his bed, there's a soft sniffle along with a muttered curse.
"I- I should've caught on after the first time, huh?" Todd finally continued, chuckling shakily. "Shoulda thunk: 'Huh, maybe this kid needs an eye on em' to make sure he doesn't fucking DIE again.'"
Another humorless chuckle. The sound unexpectedly makes Damian's stomach twist uncomfortably.
"Hindsight sure is 20/20 and always just too late to change a fucking thing."
Todd takes a couple of deep breaths. Grounding himself, Damian realizes, recognizing the exercise from the ones Richard taught him. The observation unnerves him. He has no idea what to make of Todd when he's this vulnerable.
"...Alright, I've gotta get out of here. Too much emotion for me." Todd abruptly says, tone more steady than before. "Come see me when you wake up, we could hang out or maybe curse each other out again. Whatever floats your boat, kid. As long as you wake up."
More shuffling, and the window slides shut again.
Damian is left alone with his thoughts in the silent room. He spends a couple minutes attempting to absorb the fact that he almost got himself killed (another failure, another reason he's defective), that Todd suddenly cares a great deal for seemingly no reason and most of all that Richard might be alive.
He falls asleep wishing he could confirm whether or not that could possibly be true, hoping desperately that it was somehow true.
His moments of lucidity are more fleeting from then on. A few minutes at a time, triggered by seemingly nothing.
He hardly had time to really think to himself with how soon he falls back asleep each time, but he does understand one thing.
A lot of people are visiting him, one after another. He didn't think any of them cared he was gone... but here they were, each leaving him with kind words and well wishes.
Cassandra was the first to visit.
"It's alright, little brother. I'll take care of Dick and Barb while you're asleep. Just don't... take too long. We- We miss you."
Then Stephanie.
"Last time you were in the Spoiler-mobile you left a bunch of cracker crumbs everywhere and I'm definitely not going to be the one to clean it out. So y-you better wake up soon, you hear me?"
Then Jon.
"S-Sorry, I didn't visit you earlier... I- I was scared to see you... like this. Dad said I shouldn't blame myself... but I think I should cause... cause I promised I'd protect you and heroes don't break promises. Friends don't break promises... and I won't ever again."
"Also…I know Batman said you couldn't, but maybe when you wake up we can team up again? It’s... It's up to you."
Todd came again.
"They were having a sale on these little stuffed dogs and I found one that sorta looks like Titus. Thought you might get a kick out of it.... I'll leave it over here for ya."
Drake revisited as well.
"...I made a new set of thermal compression gear. It can be worn under your Robin uniform or normal clothes. When I'm done, it should be able to regulate your body temperature continuously for a month straight."
Barbara.
“The next time anything like this happens, call me right away, okay? I don’t care what Bruce says about you, I know you’re a good kid and a great Robin."
Pennyworth.
"...I'm sorry, child, for being so blind."
Thomas.
“God, you’re just a kid, aren’t you? You didn’t ask for any of this. You didn’t get to… choose it, like the rest of us.”
Even Maya.
"You're not allowed to die yet, okay? You have too much to do."
and, strangely enough, Harper and Garth.
"Heal up fast, ankle-biter. Everyone’s waiting for you."
"Dick will probably be fussing over you for a while after you wake up. If you ever want an escape, the Palace's doors are open. We could probably find a dolphin willing to take you for a ride."
It was a strangely positive feeling, realizing how many seemingly cared if Damian survived. Though he also grew worried the longer he went without hearing Richard's voice, only hearing about him referred to and never directly.
He began to wonder if Richard wanted to visit him at all.
When the day finally comes, Damian knows it before he's even fully conscious. It's something in the atmosphere, permeating the air around him.
A shoe idly taps a stuttering beat on vinyl flooring, its owner obviously the restless type. Soft humming, a song Damian recognizes instantly but has long forgotten the name of. A hand loosely linked around Damian's wrist in constant unspoken reassurance, as if Damian being alone in any small way would be a grave error.
Damian knows who this is, all the little habits and tics are so familiar that it hurts.
Richard is alive.
By now he already knew that, yet still the simple observation is repeated again and again with hushed awe in the quiet of his mind.
Richard is alive. Richard is alive. Richard is alive. Richard's here and he's alive.
Devoid of any way to reach out, to say something, to express a single thing, Damian's heart merely quickens. The only evidence of his inner turmoil.
The sound of paper against paper, a page turning. Richard lets out a heavy sigh, sounding... tired. Fatigued. A book flips shut, placed onto a table with a soft tap. Two hands—Richard's—wrap around his hand tightly like a lifeline. A kiss pressed to his knuckles.
He said something under his breath, so faint that Damian almost didn't catch it.
"...Come back, kiddo. Please."
Damian's heart ached at the palpable anguish in Richard's voice. He was sick of just lying here, waiting to wake up. Richard needed him now.
He concentrated completely on moving, straining with effort to move a single muscle. When nothing happened he wasn't dissuaded, only redoubling his efforts.
‘Cooperate, stupid limbs!’
Nothing, and then... Damian's lungs expanded at his will, taking in a sharp breath and letting it out all at once.
'Yes!!' He internally celebrated.
Elated with his newfound control over his lungs, Damian took a couple quick deep breaths.
"No, no, no..." Richard muttered with growing alarm, interrupting Damian's joyous ventilating.
Worried, Damian went still again, wondering what had scared Richard.
"Leslie!" Richard yelled frantically as he shot to his feet, hand starting to slip from Damian's.
Panic bowls through Damian like a wild bull.
'No, no, no, wait! Why are you leaving?! Don't go!'
His hand tightens around Richard's like a vice, catching him before he can leave. Damian lets out a relieved breath just as Richard gasps.
"D- Damian..?" Richard asked, voice shaking with disbelief and hope.
'Yes! Yes, I'm here!'
Damian wills his hand to squeeze Richard's even tighter.
"Dami!" He cries, relief palpable. "Can- Can you hear me?"
Emboldened with new determination, Damian endeavors to force open his heavy eyelids. Bit by bit he worked, until—for the first time in what felt like a lifetime—he could see Richard again.
He was watching with wide eyes, rapt. A smile slowly formed on his face as tears beaded in his eyes. The corners of his mouth faltered though, dipping downwards as the tears quickly built up.
Damian didn't get the chance to brace himself before Richard unceremoniously slammed into him, barely avoiding tearing out his IV.
Richard's arms wind around him, holding him tight. Damian slowly raises his sluggish arms to reciprocate the embrace, eyes burning. Richard's breath starts to stutter in quiet sobs. He turns his head to press repetitive kisses to Damian's temple.
Damian wrinkled his nose, ineffectually trying to tilt his head away from the assault of affection.
"Eugh." He remarked, grimacing.
Richard halted his onslaught to bark out a euphoric laugh.
"Sorry, Dami." He said, sounding utterly unapologetic. "I'm just- really, really glad you're awake."
Any annoyance Damian felt faded with that response, replaced with a sappy warm feeling.
"...I am as well." Damian admittedly quietly, voice scratchy with disuse.
Richard pulls away just enough to wipe his wet face and smile at Damian. It's then that Damian notices the changes in Richard's visage. It's subtle, but noticeable.
His hair is cut shorter, new scars now mark his skin at least a couple months old, and—if Damian's squints—he can spot a faint curved line at the same spot in both of Richard's irises.
It's clear that Richard has been alive again for some time now and Damian can only guess as to why he's returned now or what kept him away in the first place.
"Is there something on my face?" Richard asks.
"How..." Damian starts slowly, unexplainably wary to ask. "How are you alive, Richard? Father… Father said you were dead. Did Mother or Grandfather…?"
A variety of emotions flash across Richard's face before his expression shudders entirely.
“No. No, it wasn’t the Lazarus pit.” Richard says after a beat, calm in a way that feels disingenuous."...It's a long story, kiddo."
"I want to hear it." Damian affirmed determinedly.
Richard is silent for a long time, eyes searching his. Damian doesn't know what else to do but hold his gaze.
Finally, Richard sighs softly and nods.
"It's going to take a while, so we'd better get comfortable." Richard said, manually shifting Damian aside in the bed himself.
He climbed into bed, tucking Damian under his arm. Damian let him, latching onto him in return.
Richard looked a little surprised by the display of affection, but not disapproving. Then he took a deep weary breath before beginning to speak.
“It started with a case. Zsasz had escaped Arkham again and—”