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Damian stood at attention before Father, hood drawn up and casting his face in shadow. Father was yelling at him angrily, scolding him for endangering the mission. Drake stood to Father's left, slightly behind him. His arms were crossed and a scowl lined
/his features as he glowered down at him, hatred radiating from his demeanor.

"…and you nearly got yourself killed! You should've waited for back-up! You were reckless and foolish! You…"

Father continued his rant. Damian stared at his feet intently, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes that he fought vainly against. He refused to cry in front of Drake and Father. He was grateful that his hood hid his face and that they didn't seem
/to notice the slight tremor traveling through him. His hands were clasped behind his back and he hunched over slightly to keep his face hidden. He hadn't changed out of uniform yet, his gauntlets and the front of his tunic stillstained in dried
/blood.

Grayson's blood.

"You endangered us all! Not just yourself! Are you even listening? Do you even care, Damian? Dick nearly died because of you! He took a bullet for you! And now he's unconscious in the med bay and there's a chance that he won't make it! Now we…"

The rest of his words faded out and Damian's ears stated ringing, Father's words echoing around his head. Dick nearly died because of you! Damian's lip trembled. He took a bullet for you! Pressure built up in his chest and Damian felt a
/lump form in his throat. His vision blurred. Do you even care, Damian? The words seemed to tear him apart. Damian could hardly breathe the pressure was so great.

He had to leave. He couldn't hold it in and it felt like he was going to explode. And he couldn't do that in front of Father and Drake. Couldn't show such… such weakness.

Damian spun on his heel and walked briskly away from Father and Drake.

"Damian!" Father roared. "Get back here!"

Damian ignored him, he had to get away. If he didn't get away they'd see how weak he truly was. Damian heard footsteps behind him and sped up. He didn't get far before a hand clamped down on his wrist. Damian yanked at his arm but the grip was
/unyielding, keeping him in place as he carefully kept his back to Father.

"Damian," Father growled. "What do you think you're doing?"

Damian felt as if his heart was being ripped in two. The anger and the hate in Father's voice – it hurt. It hurt a lot. A short sob burst out of Damian's throat. Horrified, Damian hurriedly clapped a hand over his mouth and tugged weakly at his wrist.
/To his surprise he was released. Damian staggered forward a few steps before his legs gave out and he fell on his knees to the ground. The ten year old desperately covered his mouth with both hands, hoping to stop the inevitable. Hot tears streamed
/down his face in rivulets as another strangled sob escaped his throat, muffled only slightly by his hands.

And another.

Before long, Damian was bawling, curled up into a fetal position with his knees drawn tightly to his chest, head buried in them. Damian hadn't cried like this in years – not since he was four. He just never cried. Sure, occasionally a few tears would
/slip, but those were only in moments of great physical pain. Damian had been holding this in for so long, he was surprised he hadn't exploded.

As he cried, thoughts attacked him mercilessly. Grayson could die because of you, it's all your fault, everybody hates you, your own mother hates you, you're a murderer, who would love you, you're a burden to all who meet you, nothing more, you should've listened, now Grayson is hurt, you're a monster, a murderer, weak-

Damian felt someone sit beside him, but he couldn't care less at the moment.

It's all your fault, you killed Dick, the only person who's ever bothered to care for you, look at what that got him, now he's dying, and it's all your fault, you should've-

Then Damian felt an arm wrap around his quaking frame and another around his front. The ten year old was pulled forward into a hug, head resting against someone's chest. A hand rubbed the ex-assassin's back comfortingly as Damian let out his emotions
/for the first time in years.

"It's okay," a voice whispered in his ear. "It's alright."

Damian latched onto the person whom he recognized as Father, sobbing hysterically on top of his Kevlar-clad chest. I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to get Grayson hurt – it was an accident – I didn't mean to. I didn't know he'd take a bullet for me. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.

"It's okay," Father shushed him, Damian hadn't realized he had been talking aloud and wondered how long he'd been doing that. "We all make mistakes, you couldn't have known Dick would get hurt. What's important is that you learn from your mistakes – I'm
/sorry for making you cry. I didn't realize you were actually listening. I lost my temper and I'm sorry. Dick will pull through, don't worry. It's okay, everything is okay."

Damian continued crying for what seemed like hours, before finally his sobs subsided into occasional hiccups and his tears slowed to a stop. Damian laid in Father's arms for a moment longer as Father carded his fingers through Damian's hair and rubbed
/Damian's back.

"I'm sorry," Damian whispered,falling into an exhausted sleep, oblivious of the future nightmares awaiting him. Nightmares of guns going off, of men shouting, of Dick's pained cry as he collapsed, and of Damian's bloodied hands as he knelt in a

pool of scarlet andscreamed for his brother to be okay…