Chapter Text
“...I need to take a break from this. From us.”
Damian pulled his ear away from the door as a shuffle of fabric on the other side indicated Father and Drake – Timothy – were ‘hugging it out’. He stumbled backwards, uprooting his legs and forcing them to take quick steps back towards his room. Timothy had said… a break. What a coward. Damian did not require breaks; he never asked for them. Father needed Robin, and if Timothy was giving up, then… he supposed it had to be him. Of course it did. None of his brothers ever stayed long; he really shouldn’t be surprised at this development.
He locked the door the moment he stepped inside his bedroom. His breath shuddered through him, and he found himself bracing himself with his hands on his neatly organised desk. He tried to count the seconds, to slow down his heart rate. 478. Breathe in for 4, hold for–
The breath refused to stay, replaced by a cough and a sudden gasping for air. His fingers curled in and caught on a thick piece of paper. Eyes snapping shut, he clutched it to his chest and sat down, hard, leaning on the bedroom door. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know what was on this piece of paper:
Gotham University
Dear Damian,
We are pleased to inform you that your application has been accepted. Congratulations!
Thank God he hadn’t told anyone about the letter. Or that he’d applied. He’d only done it at Richard's encouragement; he didn’t have an actual plan. Actually, he had been thinking medicine was an interesting field, and he would still be able to help people! But he didn’t need this; it wasn’t that important. It didn’t hurt that much, or maybe it wouldn’t if–
Knock knock Knock!
“Dames?”
Damian stayed very quiet. He didn’t trust his voice not to crack, and Timothy deserved a break, too. He crumpled up the letter still in his hand and shot it into the little trash can by his bed.
“I know you’re in there, Dami. Need I remind you I can pick locks?”
“Tt.” Damian got up painfully slow, turning the lock and cracking the door. Timothy gently pushed it open the rest of the way, or so Damian assumed. He was very busy staring at Timothy’s chest, unwilling to meet his eyes.
“So... you heard all that, huh?”
No response.
“I– I’m sorry, Dami. I’m not leaving you. We can still hang out, y’know? I’ll be here.”
Damian blinked slowly, arms hanging awkwardly by his side. He was not going to cry.
“Why would I want to spend time with a deserter like you?” It came out as a whisper. Timothy let out a small, “oh”, and then there were arms wrapped around Damian as he tried to stay still, tried to keep the tears inside. Timothy, still trapping Damian in his embrace, began to walk him backwards into the room.
Damian’s arms stayed glued to his side.
“I’m so sorry,” Timothy whispered. His voice broke as if he was fighting back tears of his own. “I never meant to leave you alone.”
Damian pushed at his chest until Timothy finally let go. “I doubt that.”
Timothy looked at him like Damian had just disowned him.
“It’s fine. You need a break. Whatever,” Damian said. “You’re all like that. You need a break, you leave, you come back, you leave again. I’m used to it.”
“And god knows I’ve never asked for a break,” he added, under his breath, but of course Timothy caught it.
“Dami– I… What? You deserve a break just as much as any of us. You can walk away, same as anyone. No one would hold that against you.”
“Yes, of course, and leave Batman without Robin. You of all people should understand why that’s a terrible idea.” He stood up abruptly, feeling restless. “I was raised to be a weapon, and despite what Richard says, maybe I’m better off sticking to my birthright. I am the son of the Bat and heir to the Demon’s throne. Perhaps that is all I’ll ever be.”
He added the last part thoughtfully, as if the realisation of his destiny was just dawning on him. He nodded to himself. Yes, that sounded right. He couldn’t believe he’d thought of leaving this, a coward. What would mother think if she had known!
“Baby bird, no! You deserve so much more than what’s been handed to you; you need to see the world and make your own choices. The world is so much bigger than the Batcave. It took me so long to see that, too long. I don’t want that for you.”
“Oh, I know,” Damian threw the words like knives.
Timothy narrowed his eyes. “You’re hiding something. What is it? Where’s this coming from?”
“Go away, Drake.”
“Oh, are we back to Drake? Don’t make me call Dick, Dames, because I’m sure he’d love to drive out and have this conversation with–”
“I got accepted at Gotham U.”
Timothy’s jaw dropped so fast that Damian was surprised he didn’t dislocate it. He was at a loss for words. Damian sighed, dropping back onto his bed and lying down. He left his feet planted on the floor, the contact grounding him.
“And you’re only mentioning this now?!”
Damian shrugged. “I don’t see that it matters. I can’t go, anyway.”
“Why– what– who said you can’t go?” Timothy ran a hand down his face. “OhmygodwhereisDickwhenyouneedhim?”
“I cannot go,” Damian closed his eyes, "Because one of us must stay. Father needs Robin, and I cannot do both.”
“Why is everyone in this family so self-sacrificial?” Timothy sat down with his face in his hands.
I don’t see you offering to take my place, Damian didn’t say. It was true, but he understood that Timothy needed to step away. He understood that, in his conscious mind, but it still hurt.
“You’re not going to say anything? Okay, you know what? I’m calling Dick. I can’t– wait, does he even know about this? Who have you told?”
“No. One.”
Eyes still closed, Damian could only listen for a response. Timothy made a slight strangled sound, then the mattress shifted. Damian could hear him pacing whilst muttering under his breath, “pick up pick up.”
And then he walked outside to talk to Richard in privacy, although Damian could make out his dramatically panicked words through the door. He kept his eyes closed, digging the heels of his hands into his eye sockets until he saw spots. This whole ordeal was giving him a massive headache. Truthfully, he just wanted to sleep. He wished Timothy would hurry it up with whatever he was doing so he could finally rest.
The door slammed open, making Damian wince.
“OKAY, get up. We’re going on a road trip,” Timothy announced.
Damian gaped. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Why? It’s not a weeknight.” Damian squinted his eyes open and realised Timothy was packing Damian's clothes into a duffel. “C’mon, Dames. Get up, I’m not kidding.”
“Neither am I. I am exhausted. Leave me alone.”
“Alright then, have it your way.” Damian only had a second to feel vaguely triumphant before he was hoisted onto Timothy’s shoulder. He fought back, screaming to be put down, but Timothy was bigger than him, and he had been caught off guard. Not to mention, his head was absolutely pounding.
Each step down the grand staircase drove a dagger through his eyes, straight into his brain. He let out a whimper, much to his chagrin. Cold air hit his face as they stepped onto the driveway, eliciting another whimper.
“Tim,” Damian’s breath was ragged. “Please.”
Timothy dropped him into the passenger seat of his car. He brushed the hair off of Damian’s face before climbing into the driver's side.
“Trust me, Dames. This will help.”
Damian decided against replying, opting instead to curl up as best he could (the seatbelt made it difficult) and try to ignore the growing ache behind his eyes.