Chapter Text
Dick and Damian had just returned from a long night of patrol. Dick was exhausted and had a killer headache, and he was sure Damian was fighting off sleep himself too - his falling eyelids and copious blinking hadn’t escaped his notice on their ride back to the cave.
Their exhaustion wasn't just from physical exertion, although there had been plenty of that earlier that night. It was a special date, one that had everyone in the manor in a somber mood. Bruce's birthday was today. Dick glanced at the time displayed on the dash of the Batmobile. Or, he supposed it was yesterday now. But this small fact had had both him and Damian on edge the whole night.
The two of them had been getting along really well recently, finally making a breakthrough, but the emotional significance of tonight had added another unnecessary strain of tension between them. Dick had considered calling off patrol for that night, just cancelling it altogether for both their and Alfred's sake, but they had gotten an alert for a new villain.
It had turned out to be a magician who had wandered into town to cause some chaos and seemingly worsen the headache Dick he had already been nursing all night. He really needed to get more sleep. But Gotham and crime waited for no one - especially when you were the Bat.
With the combination of Bruce's birthday, Dick's constant head pain, and the frustrating fight with the magician (during which he ending up having to call in some backup from Oracle, who, although she still wasn't talking with him, agreed to help out), this night had just not gone well for them, and all Dick wanted was to crash on his bed and pass out for 13 hours. But he knew that he still had more work to do, unfortunately.
Pulling the Batmobile into the cave and parking it, Dick waved Damian off towards the changing area while he headed toward the storage room to grab a container before walking back to the Batcomputer. Dick pushed off the cowl, letting his sweaty hair air out after the long night.
He sat down in the empty chair, wishing he could feel its cool leather but not wanting to go through the whole process of stripping off the Batsuit. He never liked wearing the thing. He always felt so restricted and pressured inside of it, not able to feel the wind in his hair or able to do his signature flips. He couldn't be himself. Not if he wanted to be Batman. To replace … him . Of course, he would never be able to. All he could do was be a cheap imitation and trick everyone into believing it was the real thing.
But, as much as he hated it and as much as it felt restrictive and burdensome, it was a pain to get out of and Dick was way too tired to go through all that mess. He placed down the new object that they had acquired that night and which would be the reason he would have to stay up another several hours.
It was an item they had confiscated from the magician and Dick wanted to make sure it wouldn't be too dangerous to keep around for now until he could pass it off onto someone more qualified in the area of the mystic arts (it'd probably be Zatanna, although after not being in contact with her - or really any of his friends - he wasn't looking forward to that particular conversation).
Dick was just about to settle into the chair when the headache he had been nursing all night erupted in pain and he had to hold back a groan as he used his hands to massage his head, which felt like someone had shoved a dull knife directly into the center of it. Massages never got rid of the pain, but it worked to lessen it the intensity. A little. But not enough. Never enough.
After the wave of pain finally finished crashing and calmed, the pain settling back into a more tolerable level, he finally took a seat at the Batcomputer, sitting down with a heavy thump and a long, exhausted sigh. Dick took a minute to close his eyes and try to relax before he had to get back to work, but it didn't really work.
Every time he closed his eyes, memories would shoot him between the eyes and roll through his mind like a fast-forwarded movie. Dick furrowed his brow, fighting to keep his eyes closed and get some semblance of peace before his hours of exhausting research, but flashes of painful memories and events that long haunted him kept flashing before his eyes.
A woman straddling him. The ashes of a building and a small body laying in it. A pill being shoved down his throat. His eyes burst wide open. With watery eyes, Dick came to the resolution that he would just have to get on with the rest of his night and get it over with because he wasn’t going to get any semblance of peace or rest currently.
Dick pushed down all feelings of exhaustion, guilt, or anything else storming away in his heart and turned his attention to the device sitting before him: a spherical object that looked more like an empty void rather than an physical object, placed inside a protective case, sealing it airtight. All Dick knew about the object was that the magic user they had fought that night had tried - and failed - to use it against them, which of course meant the object most likely contained magic and magic never meant anything good, especially for headaches. So he was trying to be as careful as he could and keep it as secure as possible, even if he felt too tired to really care much about anything right now.
"Tired," that's a nice word for it, isn't it? Dick mused. Not "achingly empty," not "drained of all happiness," not "overwhelmingly filled with grief," not "trying to deal with so many things in his life that sometimes he just wanted to walk away from everything and forget about it all." Not "being so frustrated that he wanted to cry from the pain and injustice of it all." Not "just wanting his dad back and everything to go back to the semi-peaceful way things were."
Dick immediately froze as his thoughts returned to the one person who had been consuming all his thoughts recently. But he couldn’t think of him right now. He had work to do. It was hard to keep the thoughts away, and yet they always seemed to come back. Dick shook his head, trying to get rid of the errant thoughts before they led him down a very slippery and emotional rollercoaster and caused his stinging eyes to produce any actual form of water.
The presence of someone else behind him startled Dick from his thoughts (thankfully) and Dick mentally wiped his face of all previous emotion, giving the best smile he could currently, turning to face his little brother who must have just finished changing. Damian only took a moment to look at Dick's face and the smile that Dick knew must look extremely forced before switching his focus to the object in front of them, putting a hand on the back of Bruce’s Dick's chair and leaning forward to get a better look at it.
Dick watched as Damian's features scrunched into disgust."-tt- Magic is annoying. I understand why Fa--" He eyes widened and jumped to Dick's for a split second as he self-corrected. "Why magicians are prohibited in Gotham."
Back during the early days after Damian had arrived at the manor, whenever Damian felt he had said something out of line, he would lower his head. Dick knew this must have been a habit he picked up from growing up in the League, and it made him angry every time he was reminded what the League had put a child through. Dick had been working to correct it with Damian, among other habits, and had made some progress. Now Damian just averted his eyes instead of lowering his entire head. Which is what he was doing now as he changed the subject before Dick could even get out a response to his previous statements.
Damian studied one of the many screens in front of them intently, frowning, as he asked, "When do you plan to come up tonight, Grayson?" Dick placed a hand on the console near the screen he was boring a hole into to try to catch Damian’s gaze and bring his attention back to his face. It worked and Dick gave Damian a small, probably tired looking smile to let him know that it was okay. Damian should be allowed to talk about his dad without having to worry about whether it would set someone around him off. It reminded Dick that he had to be strong - if not for himself, Batman, or Bruce, then for Damian's sake.
Dick placed his hand on Damian's shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting way. Damian didn't immediately shrug it off so that was a win. In a low voice, Dick said, "It's ok to say his name, ya know?"
Dick looked into Damian's as intently as possible and gave another small smile. "I'm not going to fall apart just because you mention him. Although, if it's for your own sake, then take as long as you need, okay? We're all in this together."
Dick gave one more comforting squeeze before dropping his hand. Damian, as one always uncomfortable with showing feelings of any sort (oh how that reminded Dick of Bruce), he simply sniffed and showed his acceptance of Dick's comfort with his silence and lack of retort.
Dick turned to the computer and brought up a new file, ready to start his research. He began, keys clicking filled the comfortable silence between the two brothers as he worked and Damian dutifully took a seat at another screen to fill out his own log of the night.
The two worked in comfortable silence until Damian pushed back his chair and stood, subtly stretching in a way that let Dick know he was tired but was trying not to show it. Dick threw a smile in Damian's direction.
"Goodnight, Damian," Dick said lovingly. Every time he looked at the kid, all he felt was love and pride. He was so happy to have gotten to know him, even if the circumstances were not the best. He just loved the kid so goshdarn much. He only wished Bruce had gotten to see how amazing he had turned out.
Dick expected Damian to leave and go to bed after that, but after a second, he realized he hadn't made any effort to exit the cave. Dick glanced back over at him in confusion. Seeing that Dick had noticed seemed to startle Damian into action. He cleared his throat and said, "You never answered my question, Grayson."
Dick's eyebrows knitted together thoughtfully. Question? After a moment, Dick finally remembered what he was talking about. Gosh, his brain seemed to be slower than normal tonight. Guess he couldn't blame it. It had been a particularly emotional night for some reason.
In response, Dick hummed thoughtfully and flashed Damian a weary smile. "Hopefully not for long, little D. But I'm afraid it might still be a while thanks to this." He turned his own disdainful look upon the magic object and gestured towards it. "I just want to do a little research to make sure it's not going to explode us all or de-age us in the middle of the night." He gave Damian a lopsided grin and ruffled his hair, ignoring Damian's protests. "Just head up to bed. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."
Damian narrowed his eyes in suspicion, staring Dick down for a long minute. Finally, he tutted. "Fine. I'll go. However, I shall inform Pennyworth to come down here and make sure you get proper rest if you do not do so yourself."
Dick smirked. "Of course."
Dick beckoned him closer to which Damian complied. Dick reached out and mussed his hair, smiling at Damian's small words of outrage. "Goodnight, Dami." Leaving his hand in his hair, despite Damian's attempts to remove it, Dick pulled his forward against his own. "Love ya."
Mr. Tsundere bawked at the physical affection and words, but only for a moment. Maybe it was just because of the event's of tonight, or because Damian was feeling a little extra emotional tonight as well, but he seemed to lean into Dick's touch. Dick almost didn't notice the slight upturn of Damian's lips as he muttered, "I do, as well."
Damian let them stay like that for a minute, but, too soon it felt like to Dick, the moment was over and Damian was headed back towards the manor. Damian threw one last "Make sure you rest tonight, Grayson or I'll tell Alfred to talk sense into you" as he walked through the door. Dick knew he was concerned - he could hear it laced in Damian's words. He knew Damian constantly worried that he would leave him like Bruce had left him. Like he had left all of them. And now Dick was stuck filling in his shoes that he knew he could never fit in. And, even though he didn't want his baby brother to worry about him -- he was the oldest, the most responsible one, for crying out loud -- he knew Damian's concern was warranted.
In truth, he hadn't been feeling all that great lately. He hadn't been in a good state of mind at all since Bruce … disappeared. And he knew that, with all that was going on with Bruce's departure, Tim's hurt feelings, and his own reformation, Damian had to be feeling just as bad and overwhelmed as he did. Dick had to be the one to shoulder Damian's feelings. Not the other way around.
Dick groaned and dropped his head into his hands. He really was a horrible older brother, wasn't he. Not only that. In fact, he had a whole list of things he was horrible at! He was a horrible Batman, a horrible friend, a horrible leader… and a horrible son.
Dick was surprised to feel a sob wrack his body. But really, why should he? With every shitty thing going on in his life, why shouldn't he just give in to his own grief and despair? No. He steadied himself. He had to be strong. But even he couldn’t hold back the tide of his feelings forever and the lack of an audience allowed his guard to fall just enough that the tears and grief slipped through.
It was in the middle of his mental breakdown that Dick started to notice something through the fog of his emotions and the blur of his tears. A .. flashing light? He looked up and realized it was the sphere. He stared at it, uncomprehending what was happening. Then reality came crashing down on him and he suddenly stood up, pushing back the chair.
Oh crap oh crap oh crap. What did I do? What do I do? What is it doing? Why is it doing what it's doing?
Dick forced himself to take a deep breath, fully clearing the fog in his mind so he could actually analyze the situation and deal with it. It was what he was best at, pushing his emotions down and dealing with what was in front of him. He did this all the time. Except, he wasn't entirely sure if he was thinking straight so maybe this time wouldn't go as smoothly? Well, things tended to end up fine in the end. He just had to do what he could and deflect the blows as they came. Even if he wasn't in perfect emotional or mental shape right now, this would all turn out fine. Hopefully.
He started to inspect the device itself, trying to figure out what the heck was going on with it. Watching it flash was like looking at the sun, however, and decided that it would take too long to grab the proper glasses from the equipment room to inspect it.
So then what was the next course of action? Should he remove the sphere and take it to an uninhabited isolated location? No, the device could activate any second and do who knows what. It was better to just keep it here. The cave and manor were pretty isolated on their own anyways.
Dick began to activate defense mechanisms, shutting down the cave from all outside interference, just so if something happened, it would be as contained to the cave as possible.
However, while he was in the middle of coming up with all the possible outcomes and trying to prevent them, the flashing from the sphere sped up and just as Dick began to react, the world seemed to shift for a second and then the device just stopped. Dick tried to blink the residual light and tears from his eyes as he took in the situation, trying to see what had changed and why the device had suddenly stopped. Because it somehow felt like something was different.
As he began to look around him, he first noticed that the Batcomputer looked just slightly different, with a lot more finger smudges on the screens and stained substances over the dash. As if it had been through a lot more young kids than it usually did. Then Dick noticed the air. It smelled different from what he had grown use to over the past 13 years. Not completely foreign… but slightly off, for sure.
It was then that he noticed a presence from behind him. Thoughts flashed through his mind lightning quick as he began to turn around to face whoever was behind him. Had Damian noticed what had happened and come down to investigate? If so, why hadn't he noticed him before? Was it because of his scrambled brain right now? But wait, hadn't he locked down the cave? So how could Damian have gotten down here? Maybe he used the override code? He could've but --
He thoughts came to a screeching stop as he fully turned around and took in the man who stood before him now. A suit as dark as night and a Bat symbol emblazoned on its chest. His eyes rocketed to the man’s face and instantly the breath was knocked out of him. A face he longed to see, a face that he never thought he’d see again - a face he would recognize anywhere.
He let out a small breath, filled to the brim with unspoken emotion, “Bruce...”