#fic 1

Damian have no problem admitting to himself that he cares for his father, a great deal. Even loves him, not that he would ever admit that to the man. He has some pride left, some pitiful excuse of dignity, even after all the fluff Grayson has put him through. Father knows anyway, he assumes. He has to have some sort of inkling that Damian, his unruly son, does actually care.

Father.. he tries. He has his tendencies and very own way of thinking, but still - he tries. Damian can’t deny that, can't hold that against the man. Still he is not always easy to be around, to work with, perhaps especially when its father and son.

Then there is Grayson, he is something entirely different. How people, people who know both Dick and Bruce, can get themselves to say that they are so alike - they must not know Dick at all. Then again Dick is a great actor, having practiced his whole life. Grayson is amazing at setting himself into a situation, and figuring out the role he needs to play. It’s scary how quickly he reads a situation and completely alters his own mood, his own role in it, in a matter of seconds.

In some ways, Damian figures the real Batman will always be Richard Grayson in his eyes. Even as he swings from rooftop to rooftop with his father by his side every night, he sometimes catches himself wishing it was Grayson under that cowl. That it was he and Grayson fighting criminals together, huddling together for warmth on particularly cold stake outs (something father never allows). He wishes it was Grayson trusting him with more than Damian ever thought someone could be trusted with, let alone him.

He can’t tell Grayson that, no, never. It was quite obvious how much it hurt Richard, having to wear the cowl and step into the role of the dark knight. The embodiment of everything Grayson did not want to become being forced upon him, and even if his older brother honourably tried to hide it - Damian knew Richard had hated every second in the suit, playing the role of the world’s greatest detective not because he wanted to but because he had to.

Damian knows his father is capable in almost every way, a great hero, one of the best there is, and yet, Damian sometimes finds himself longing for what once was. It is horrible of him, really. Father had been gone, presumed dead. Damian had mourned for what he thought would never be, Dick had mourned for yet another father lost, Alfred had mourned a man he viewed as his own son. Their whole family had suffered massively those months, and yet Damian has caught himself wishing for some of those moments back. That he could have some of all that was bad again, just so he could relive the good too. He knows he can never voice this, not to anyone.

It is selfish, he knows that, he has never been one to lie to himself. Grayson is still a big part of his life and Damian knows he should be thankful. He has father, Grayson, Alfred, Titus.. he has so much. It is more than he ever thought he would have before his mother brought him to the other side of the world and left him at the doorstep of a man he didn't even know. Even so, when Grayson gave father back the cowl, Damian couldn’t help feeling that Grayson was in some ways giving him back to his father too. It was almost like Grayson's shift as the babysitter was now over, and that it was Bruce’s time to take care of him. How long until father grows bored of him and his unruliness? How long until his patience runs thin, for real?

“You need to try harder, Bruce,” Grayson says, bringing Damian out of his own head and breaking his train of thought. They don’t know that Damian is spying on them from the top of the ridiculous dinosaur in the cave, or maybe they know, and can’t be bothered to try stopping him. He wouldn't put it past them, both Grayson and his father have a habit of disappearing into their anger more often than not when together. It is one of their few similarities, that and black hair. Damian knew that Grayson’s relationship with father had been.. complicated, at best, but he had never really understood the reality of it before seeing it with his own two eyes after father came back into their lives. It was quite terrifying at times, and heartbreaking at other ones.

“Damian.. he needs rules and stability, but he also needs patience. He needs time to understand, to feel understood, he needs to feel that there is room for him to be himself too. Not just Robin, not just your son, not just whatever mold you are trying to force him to fit into!” Grayson continues. His voice is at a decent, normal level, but anyone who knows Richard knows that it is not his regular carefree voice. It is dripping with something Damian can’t pinpoint, and far from cheery and bright. It is heavy with life experiences and feelings Grayson usually keeps hidden deep under his skin. It is saying quite a lot about Grayson's current state of mind, that those hidden emotions are forcing their way through now. Perhaps that is just the effect father has on his children.

“Dick, he’s my son. Do you think I do not know what’s best for him? I applaud the.. work, you two did, in my absence, but he is still my son,” Bruce replies, sounding more tired than anything else. More detached, like it is not his son sounding few seconds from crying standing in front of him speaking. Like it’s all a meaningless discussion to him, that Richard is just being difficult - a child screaming for his attention and Bruce refusing to give it.

Absence, that's a funny word for being presumed dead and gone. A funny word for leaving your family to fall to pieces, for hanging the weight of the world and heavier than that, the cowl, on the shoulders of your eldest son. The one son who had never even wanted it. While saying those words, Bruce sounded more like Batman than ever before. The line between the two blurring even more than it already has in Damian's eyes, maybe in Dick's too, judging by the way he reacts.

Even from up on top of the dinosaur Damian can see Grayson’s whole demeanour change. His whole body stiffens in a different way, looking more resigned and broken than anything else. It surprises him, he has to admit, when instead of the expected volcanic-level burst of anger Dick just gives Bruce what Damian can only assume is an ice cold glare. The older then turns on his heel, in a harsh movement unlike Richards usually graceful and smooth ones, and stalks over to the cave entrance without another word.

Seconds later the roar of Richard’s motorbike echoes through the cave and Dick is speeding away. Away from the manor, from Gotham, probably from Nightwing and Robin’s promised “for old times sake” patrol together tomorrow. Hell, Damian doubts he will see the man in quite awhile, Grayson has quite the temper and will need some time to calm down. He will most likely be spending his time hauled up in his Blüdhaven apartment and taking his anger out on criminals at night, it is the bat way to deal with feelings after all. His father will for sure not do anything to help either, possibly doing something that makes their relationship worsen even more. It is almost like that is one of Batman’s impeccable skills - combat, solving crime mysteries and last but not least ruining familial relationships.

As Damian climbs down the dinosaur he can feel that there is something wet on his face. He insists to himself that it is not tears. He is supposed to know better. If it was one thing his mother taught him before leaving him to fend for himself in a completely different world, it was not to get attached and that display of emotions was for the weak. He is not to cry, Al Ghul's do not cry, he doubts Waynes do either.

With familiar movements he makes his way down towards to the floor, movements more rushed than usual but still he never slips once. He has climbed up and down the back of the stupid T-Rex multiple times with Grayson by his side after all.

Bruce has slumped down in the black leather chair in front of the computer as Damian climbs the last meters. Damian can only see the top of the man's head from his position. The black hair is rich and full, but a hint of grey is revealing of the fact that even the bat grows old. Damian jumps down the last meters, the sound of his feet on the hard floor signalling his presence in the cave if father didn’t know before. Judging by how there is not a single movement, not even a little twitch father did know. Of course he did, he is the Batman after all. It was foolish to think otherwise. Neither of them say anything though, both pretending the other isn’t there. They will most likely have words later, about privacy and sneaking around in the cave when one is not supposed to be there. Yet now the silence feels more suffocating than anything, and Damian doesn’t want to stay in the cave a second longer.