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*
As much as Colin would like to think this was forever, he wasn’t dumb—Robin wouldn’t need him eventually.
That was…
Okay.
Okay, being with Robin and teaming up had been like falling into the deep end sometimes. Without time to take a breath.
Colin got afraid. It was easy to be afraid when you were only ten. And an orphan.
And when worrying about being abandoned.
But, it turns out good things happened. He saved people. Like Green Lantern would save them. And the Flash. And, well, Batman to—even if Batman's scarier than any criminal. He learned to control Abuse much better with practice instead of ripping apart jaw-bones during a fight.
Robin—"it's not Damian, you didn't hear that, shut up," Damian mutters, lowering his cellphone to flip it shut and knocking his elbow on Colin's shoulder as Colin flinches and squawks out, leading them deeper, and deeper, into the basement of St. Aden's Orphanage to make an escape—he, Damian shoves his hands into the jean-pockets of his civvies, looking away uncomfortably until Colin’s sniffles lessened.
Teenage boys don’t cry.
Heroes don’t cry for dumb reasons. Or so Colin always believed somehow.
“You… were useful to me.”
“I’m glad,” Colin answers hoarsely, smiling. Even if it's a weak one.
Damian hesitates as he awkwardly presents his hand out to him, and then clings possessively instead when Colin’s lips push against Damian's urgently. Hot and salty with tears. Colin’s hands tremble, yanking the outer edges of Damian’s hoodie, shielding them from wandering eyes.
*