"Hey little one."
Dick dropped onto the balcony gracefully, settling himself behind Damian and letting the boy lean back against his knees. He'd discovered how much Damian enjoyed this position a few months in to his tenure as the Dark Knight, when he'd had to keep the boy awake for concussion checks. Every other position had made the boy fretful and angry, but this, Dick had tried this and Damian had been like putty in his hands.
Now as the boy settled he began carding the fingers of one hand through the boy's hair, feeling Damian relax against him, a pleased sound coming from inside his chest. It almost sounded like purring. He'd laughed the first time he'd heard it, but now it was a sort of reassurance that not everything was amiss in his world.
"I heard you got into a fight today."
"Mmm."
"I'm taking that as a yes."
"I didn't start it." the protest was softly spoken, but Dick heard the desperation there, and just continued stroking the boy's hair, telling him, "I heard that too."
They sat silently for another long few minutes, then Dick asked, "What was it about?"
"Just stupid kids."
"Yeah?"
"Saying stupid things."
"Ah."
"Ah?" The boy whirled around, indignant, "Ah? That's all you have to say? I was impugned."
"I know." He kept stroking the boy's hair, telling him, "I've been impugned too."
"What did they call you?"
He winced a little, recalling some of the names he'd been given, "Circus Brat. Carnie. Flying Freak."
Damian asked, "What did you do?"
Dick sighed, "I took it mostly. I think I punched one boy. What did they call you today, little one?"
"Bruce's bastard."
Dick hissed through his teeth when he heard that, finally saying, "They're idiots, little one. Idiots say what they please."
A pathetic little nod, then Damian asked, in a voice Dick did not recognize, "Is it true? Does Bruce not want me?"
"Little one." His heart broke at those words, remembering his own insecurities at his abandonment by his parents. "Bruce loves you, Damian. You wouldn't believe how thrilled he was when you came to live with him. He didn't want to leave you, and now that he's back, he's afraid."
"Afraid?" Damian sounded doubtful, "Of what?"
Dick sighed, "Of making your relationship worse. He wants to be close to you, which means he tries too hard. Does that make sense?"
A slow, sleepy nod. Dick smiled, then asked, "You want to go inside now, little one?"
Another nod. He picked the boy up before he went inside, groaning as his back twinged, Bruce was there when he went through the window, relieving him of his burden quickly. "Thanks."
Bruce nodded, and sat down on the bed, tucking a sleepy Damian under the covers. "You all right?"
Dick nodded. He never liked it when his back acted up around Bruce, the man always got so fussy about it. He sighed, then said, "I actually need to talk to you."
"All right." Bruce reached over and flicked Damain's comm unit on so they could hear if he needed anything, then led Dick into his study, guiding him to a chair at the head of the desk.
He remembered when he'd asked if he could sit there to do his homework, how – for lack of a better word- pleased, Bruce had been.
Bruce poured himself some Scotch and got Dick a Coca – cola, then asked, "What's on your mind, Sparrow?"
He paused at the old nickname, something Bruce only called him when he felt an especial need for reassurance, then sighed. Was he that easy to read?
Eventually he just shrugged and admitted, "I'm quitting."
"As Nightwing?"
"As a hero."
