So I didn't have time to write much this weekend, but I started this last weekend and I wanted to finish the first chapter. So... yeah. Just me putting off my other chapter stories to make new ones! Not a surprise anymore, eh? :P Anyway, hope you enjoy!
Reviews are loved and hugged.
I do not own any of these characters.
Dick always assumed this would happen. He knew it was only a matter of time. After the reunion and the haze everyone was under lifted, the reality would kick in and force some hard times back on the family.
He was, of course, speaking of Bruce and Damian.
After the billionaire returned, and all the happiness and joy started to fade from his homecoming, there would be a lot of work to do. Namely with his youngest son.
Unlike Dick, the original Batman has not spent as much time with the 10-year old. He doesn't know much of the boy's hang ups, like his obsessive love of cats or how he tends to sleep with Titus curled up at the head of his bed. No, Bruce Wayne does not know a lot about his youngest son.
This could be read the other way around too. Damian, though he's heard stories, knows little about Bruce – no, scratch that, he knows little about his father. He knows a lot of the play boy and of the Dark Knight, but nothing of the man who wears those two masks.
Although…things should be going better than this.
Dick was seated on the love seat in the Manor living room. His palm pressed against his cheek, looking up with uninterested and mildly annoyed blue eyes at the two figures that were now in a heated argument in the center of the room.
"So what? Because I refuse to be like Grayson, or Todd, or Drake I am not allowed on patrol?" Damian was demanding. His foot was stuck out and his hands were on his hips, his big brown eyes glaring daggers at the man that stood towering above him.
"No, it is because you do not follow orders," Bruce stated back, eyes narrowed down at his youngest son, "You need to learn that sooner or later, I call the shots.
While you are working with me, you listen to my command, you will obey, and you will follow the Moral Code."
Dick rolled his eyes with a groan under his breath. So that's what this was about? What did Damian do now? Kill someone? Shouldn't Bruce be trying to fix the problem instead of making the 10-year old want to kill something after this conversation?
Crossing his arms, the 24-year old sat back, watching this all play out. Or actually, trying to make sense of the two's reactions to each other.
Damian couldn't have given a less degrading scoff; it sounded as though someone had just snubbed him and he was anything but pleased.
"That moron deserved it Father, the justice system would not do what was needed!" He insisted with a wave of his hand, "I was doing Gotham a favor. Your welcome."
Dick face-palmed, knowing full well Bruce was not going to be happy with that reply.
And no, the billionaire wasn't. Not in the slightest.
There was a slight tremor in Bruce's left cheek, and his right hand twitched! It was clear he was trying to find a suitable reaction to this statement. Even Jason was not this blind to the importance of human life. But of course, being probably the most stubborn man in the universe – or actually the most stubborn man in the universe and the ones neighboring it, Bruce didn't find a good reaction to what he just heard. Instead, he straightened up, doing that narrowing eye thing that Dick always told him he did too often. He then leaned in, "Well then. Until you learn the importance of someone's life, you are withheld from being Robin."
Dick groaned, closing his eyes as his little brother was already reacting poorly to the news.
"What?" Damian shrieked, "You cannot withhold my position in this partnership! I have earned it-"
"That's fine, Damian." Bruce was already walking by his son though, "But now you must hold it and prove to me you are fit to be a hero. Not to just the good people in this world, but to the ones who may not deserve saving." His voice was deep and calm.
"Father-"
"Be in bed by ten." The billionaire said instead. His silhouette then disappeared into the hall, his footsteps fading out.
Dick looked past the cracks between his fingers.
Three…two…one….
"The arrogance of that man!" Damian whipped around, his voice even louder than before. He stalked a couple paces before turning on his heel and stalking back. He continued this for a couple times before finally, he stopped and instead stomped his foot in frustration.
Dick pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned forward, "Damian, you know how he feels about killing. I don't see why you press that." He told his little brother with a stern but understanding tone.
"Because he is blind to the fact that some people are evil!" The 10-year old threw his hands into the air, "He does not honestly think any of the people in Arkham will be good so why are we wasting our time in waiting them to break out! If anything, he should be withheld from his position as Batman for allowing the good people to get hurt by the rotten humanity he tries to protect!" His breathing was heavy from the exhaustion of words he was pouring out.
"It's complicated," His older brother then walked over. He sighed and crouched down to the boy's height, trying to looking into his eyes.
"It doesn't matter what kind of people they are, Damian, they're still people. At the start of their life they were no different than us." The 24-year old said softly, trying to get the young ebony to understand.
"Tt. What does it matter who they were? Now they are criminal scum and there is no place for them in this city except Arkham or Hell."
Dick looked back over his shoulder, running his hand through his hair. He then glanced back, "Your mother really did a number on you, huh. Look," He then stood as Damian was glaring off in another direction, refusing to look up at him, "Bruce isn't going to budge on this issue. So you can either learn to hold it in or stop being Robin."
Curling up his lip, Damian ripped away from his older brother's side and stalked away, "This is moronic." He sneered, hitting his fist against the wooden doorway before disappearing out.
Dick sat, tapping the bottom of the pencil against his lips. The metal that connected the erase was cool against his skin as he thought something more to write.
A journal was placed on the desk he sat at. Or, what was left of it, the wooden tabletop was covered with papers and notes from cases and various other things. For example, there was a bill for his apartment at Blüdhaven that he had yet to pay for. And old ones that he hoped he had already paid for. Then again, Alfred probably found it already and was now only keeping these papers to make a point.
That he had to keep his room neater.
Good Ol' Al. Always very subtle with his messages, though very smart. He would have to commend him on his work this time.
His blue eyes glanced to the journal, its page covered in quick writing. It was almost unreadable; he should really be getting to bed soon. It was starting to look like Tim's handwriting, which was not a good sign.
They were notes for a case he was working on.
Dick Grayson was working on, not Nightwing.
Well, he guessed both of them were working on it at this case. It was about a little girl who had gone missing this morning. They were supposed to read over the unsub's description, looking over the evidence, and try to profile the type of person the suspect would be. Personality wise of course, which would make it easy to judge their next move and perhaps their next target.
It was busy work. He had done this hundreds of times before with Bruce and on his own.
Except now it was a little harder. Not the facts or anything, or because this kidnapper was tricky or clever. No, it was because all of this yelling.
It's true; Bruce and Damian were going at it again. It was pretty much the same argument it was before; just now the 10-year old was mad he couldn't go on patrol.
Dick didn't know why he was so shocked; Bruce did say he wasn't coming. It wasn't like the billionaire never made good of his word. In fact, he always did. So really this argument was unavoidable.
But this was getting extremely annoying now. The ebony had work to do, and all this fighting was not good for the father-son relationship they were supposed to be trying to work.
Dick leaned back and sighed, running his hands through his hair. He couldn't blame either of them.
Damian was born and raised in the League of the Assassins. He was trained to kill. He was trained to pull his emotions from his mission. From a young age, it was hard to adapt. And his father wasn't exactly helping that case with all this frustration.
But then again, Bruce couldn't be blamed either. He knew it was maddening. Damian was a child, and yet he had no real recognition of what love is, or what the importance of life is. And the kid didn't exactly want help; father like son, that boy was stubborn.
That was another huge problem. They were the same exact person. Attitude wise. It was like both of them were just standing and screaming at each other at the top of their lungs, yet nothing was being heard. It was a yelling match really, and both participants were brick walls, the information just bouncing off. They both had to always be right, neither would back down. It was their way or the highway.
Dick groaned as he realized what they really needed.
What they really needed, was a middle man. Someone to take over this operation and fix the situation. There was a fleeting thought that perhaps Alfred could handle it. That way, Dick could go back to his apartment in a week like he planned and this would be sorted out.
But then again, the elderly butler was far too smart to engage in something like this. Hell, he already had to raise with one stubborn Bat, the last thing he needed was another one that killed.
The ebony sat up then and breathed out.
Alright.
He knew what he had to do.
Dick stood and crossed his room. He opened the door up, trying to build up his confidence that he could totally do this. He came down the hall, the yelling getting louder and louder as he drew nearer.
He pushed the grand double doors into the living room, bursting in.
"Damian Wayne, you need to learn the lessons of life."
So yeah, this is going to be a Dick and Damian brother Fic! Lots of fluff. Right now I'm looking for suggestions, so if there are any lessons you want Damian to learn, just write it in a review or message me! You can even say how you want him to learn the lesson; I need ideas C:
Other than that, I hope you all enjoyed the read. If anyone wants to read more, I'll try to update it as often as my others. If not, I'll only update when I'm inspired.
Thanks for reading and have a great day!
AMW