Work Text:
The call comes at exactly noon.
Dick is taking advantage of a quiet morning to himself. He’d dropped Damian off at a friend’s house for a birthday party earlier that morning, and now he sits in the kitchen, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee as he lounges with his feet propped up on the kitchen island. It had been a hard night out on patrol, and he’s grateful for the chance to breathe without having to put on a front for Damian.
In the wake of Bruce’s passing, Dick hesitates to let the kid see how much he is grieving. Without his father, Damian is in desperate need of a steady presence, a role model he can look up to as he learns to exist outside of the League’s influence, and Dick knows how important it is that he remains strong for Damian.
He doesn’t have to pick Damian up until four, and he’s looking forward to spending his day watching R-rated movies in nothing but his boxer shorts while he stuffs himself full of junk food he and Alfred won’t let Damian touch. It’ll be the first time since Bruce’s death that he has more than an hour to himself, and he intends to make every second count.
It takes him a moment to grab his phone, and he frowns when he sees that it is Linda Hendricks calling him. It’s her house that Dick had dropped Damian off at this morning, and Dick had trusted her to let Damian spend the day with his classmates in her pool. His heartbeat begins to race as he answers.
“Dick, honey, you need to get here now.” Linda’s voice is frantic, and she doesn’t wait for him to say a word before she begins talking. “It’s Damian. I’ve called an ambulance. I think his appendix has burst? He’s in a lot of pain, and he’s calling for you.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Dick almost falls over in his haste to tie his shoes, and he’s nearly hyperventilating as he sprints down the stairs to his car. “Don’t let them take him without me, okay? He won’t let them touch him without me there.”
Normally, it’s a twenty minute drive, but Dick drives like he’s in the cowl, weaving between traffic with his heart in his throat. No sirens flash behind him, not that he would have stopped for them anyway. He’s the oldest child of Bruce Wayne; it’s a get out of jail card he rarely uses, but for Damian? Well, Dick would do anything.
He gets there as the paramedics are lifting Damian up onto a gurney, and Linda comes over with tears in her eyes.
“He just went so pale, and then he started screaming,” she cries as she hands him Damian’s bag. “My husband’s here with the kids. Do you need me to come with you, honey?”
Linda is a kind woman, a staple of the Gotham Academy PTA, and he’s one of the only parents that Dick can stand. She keeps her five children in check with an ease that sends Dick reeling, because he can barely keep track of one kid, and he has asked for her parenting advice on many occasions.
Her kindness calms his racing heart, and he shakes his head. “He gets weird about this sort of thing. He won’t want anyone to see.”
Linda nods. “You call if you need anything, okay? He’s going to be okay, Dick.”
When Dick climbs into the ambulance, Damian reaches for him with a soft cry.
“You’re okay, sweetheart, I’m here.” Dick holds tight onto Damian’s hands and tries to pull himself together. “I’m right here, Dami, I’ve got you.”
“It hurts,” Damian whispers. He’s sheet white, and he grips Dick’s hand hard enough that Dick can feel his bones grind together.
One of the paramedics puts a hand on Dick’s shoulder, and he jumps. “Are you Dad?” the man asks.
It’s a common assumption that both he and Damian are used to by now. Dick is not as dark as Damian, but it’s a near thing, and Dick has lost track of how many times he has been mistaken for Damian’s father. Sometimes when the boy is sleeping, Dick will study his face and try to see parts of himself in the slope of Damian’s nose or the roundness in his cheeks. It’s an odd coincidence that all of the Robins share some physical similarities to Bruce, and as his biological son, Damian is no exception. There had been a time when Damian had bristled at any mention of his resemblance to Dick. Now, it makes him duck his head shyly as he avoids denying it outright.
Dick looks up at the paramedic and shakes his head. “I’m, um, I’m his legal guardian. He’s, ah, he’s my…”
He’s Dick’s brother, his partner, his son, his best friend, his Robin, and he looks down at Damian and tries to figure out how exactly to describe this child in a way that will fit neatly on a medical chart.
“He’s my responsibility,” Dick says, knowing that the word is not nearly enough to define what Damian is to him, but the paramedic just nods and begins putting in an IV.
“What is that?” Damian tries to pull away. “Richard, what are they doing?”
“You’re looking at a pretty nasty case of appendicitis,” the paramedic answers. He finishes with the IV, and then pats Dick’s knee. You’re okay, he mouths at Dick before he turns back to Damian. “I’ve gotta get you sorted with some pain meds, and then once we get to the hospital, you’re going to need surgery. You don’t have to worry, kiddo, you’re in good hands. And your buddy here’s gonna be with you the whole time, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Dick’s voice catches, and he swallows shakily. “You’re gonna be just fine.”
Damian shakes his head. “I do not want a surgery. I would like to go home, please.” He looks up at Dick, lower lip wobbling as tears begin to gather in eyes. “Richard, please, I want to go home.”
Do not cry, Dick thinks. Don’t you dare fucking cry in front of him, Grayson. Pull yourself together.
“It’ll be okay, Dami. It’ll be over before you know it, and then you’ll feel so much better.” Dick squeezes his hand. “We’ll go home soon, okay? I promise.”
“I want to go home now.”
Dick has never seen Damian look this terrified. Sweat beads on his forehead, and every time the paramedics move, he flinches away from them. Dick is completely helpless; he can do nothing to help, so he just keeps on holding Damian’s hand as he tries to be brave.
“I know, sweetheart, I know, but we can’t fix this at home. You have to let the doctors help you, okay? I know it’s scary, but you know I’d never let anything bad happen to you. Nothing can ever happen to you while I’m here. Okay?”
Damian shuts his eyes, and a single tear rolls down his cheek. “Okay,” he whispers.
The paramedics work around him, and the kind one reaches over when the ambulance stops to move Dick into place.
“They’re going to take him right away,” he explains in a low voice. “You’re going to have to say goodbye now.”
Damian’s forehead is clammy when Dick presses his lips to it. “I love you,” he whispers into Damian’s hair. “I love you so much, and you’re so brave, and I’ll be right there when you wake up, okay? I love you, Robin.”
He says the last part in Arabic, so quiet that he knows only Damian will hear, because he can remember how safe he had felt as a child whenever his mother had called him Robin. It had felt more like his own name than Richard Grayson ever had, and he might not be able to call this boy his son, but Robin is a name that means far more to both of them than ‘son’ ever could.
When they wheel him away, Dick stands and watches the doors close. He is completely alone, and they have taken Damian from him, and he can see that people are staring because he’s Dick fucking Grayson and people have been staring at him his entire life, and Dick does not know what to do.
Strong hands grab onto his arm, and Dick turns to see that it is the kind paramedic that has grabbed him, and the man leads him into a side room.
“My kid,” Dick gasps. “They took my kid.”
“You’re okay, man,” the paramedic says. “You just need to breathe for me, okay? Nice and slow.”
“He’s my kid,” Dick says again, because he had lied before. Damian is not just a responsibility. He is everything. “I don’t care what that piece of paper says. He’s mine. He’s my kid, and I can’t help him, and they’ve taken him, and I…I…he’s mine.”
He collapses into the paramedics arms, and the man holds him as he falls apart. Dick has seen Damian suffer far worse injuries out on patrol; this should not be an issue for either of them, but seeing Damian hurt out of costume is a pain unlike any other.
As Batman, Dick can help. He can take a hit meant for Robin, can shield the boy from danger, can patch up his wounds in the Cave and pepper gentle kisses on the boy’s cheeks until he pushes Dick away with a groan that does little to hide his smile.
But now? Dick is completely helpless, and he can do nothing to protect Damian from this. His heart is breaking in his chest, and he can barely breathe because that’s his child laying on an operating table, and it is the scariest fucking thing that Dick has ever faced.
“I know,” the paramedic says as Dick tries to pull himself out of the blinding panic he has fallen into. “I know, but you have to breathe. Come on, man, don’t make my day any harder. I’ve been up since five, and your kid is meant to be my last.”
Dick snorts and pulls back to rub at his eyes. “It’s always the last call of the day.”
“You in emergency services?”
“I was a cop.” I’m Batman is what Dick really wants to say, but his time in Bludhaven’s PD was no less hectic. “Shit. I’m sorry, man, I don’t know why I lost it like that.”
The man just shrugs. “I’m a dad, too. You might not have the papers proving it, but that’s your kid. Mine will get a papercut, and my head will go all fuzzy because even though I’ve seen all there is to see, it’s different when it’s your kid. I get it.”
Dick takes a deep breath, then squares his shoulders. “Okay. Okay, I’m good.”
“You sure? I can wait in here with you as long as you need.”
“No, I’m good. I have to call his butler.”
“His fucking what?”
“His butler.” Dick shakes his head with a laugh. “Well, I say butler, but he’s kind of like a grandfather at this point.”
“You’ve got an odd little family, man.” The paramedic holds the door open, and he shakes Dick’s hand before he goes to leave. “You’re doing a good job with that kid, you hear me? A damn good job. Take care of yourself, okay?”
A nurse comes to take Dick to the room where Damian will be brought to after his surgery, and Dick settles into the uncomfortable plastic chair with a sigh. He shoots off a quick text to Linda, then calls Alfred.
While Dick waits for him to pack a bag for Damian and make the trip over to Gotham General, Dick curls up in the chair and opens a new tab on his phone.
Bruce Wayne is gone and dead. Dick knows that he will never come close to the legacy that his father had left behind, but Dick can certainly try.
He stares at the blinking cursor for just a moment before he begins to type.
How to adopt my legal guardian???