Title: Something Like Neverland
Summary: There is a difference between a boy who never wants to grow up and a friend who wishes his friend would never grow up to be something scary. Even if only in his head. Hints at ColinxDamian.
Disclaimer: I don't own Batman, the characters, or the like. No money is being made off of this in any way.
Warnings: Fluff, weirdness, the usual.
Dedication: To those out there that love this pairing to death and curse DC every day for not giving Colin a bigger role and possibly not adding him to the reboot. Say it with me—DAMN YOU DC!


-:-
A friend who fell, suddenly out of the sky.
-Felidae.


In his head, there is something like Neverland that he conjures up at times when he really has to. Though, unlike the book or even the Disney version, with mentions of mermaids and pirates with a hook for a hand and a grudge against this boy who fell in love but was tremendously afraid of it—why else would one want to remain just on the cusp of teen-hood when he had found the girl of his dreams that he could actually hold and love and have a real family with, unlike the little fairy who had loved him from the beginning, but he had no idea—and other lost children or even beauty in everything, Colin thinks up something rather different.

In his head, Neverland is Gotham, but only just in the buildings and figures of memorials to the dead, gargoyles everywhere and churches and streets. This Gotham is not scheming against all and is brighter and cleaner and Colin always thinks of walking in the sun on one of the more lively shopping districts. And nothing would make this Neverland/Gotham complete without the person—imaginary, a figment or otherwise—he thinks of most in his days and nights, walking beside him.

He conjures up these images, this personal fairytale, when he is stressed, after a battle, during sleep, and other times that he is just sad and thinking too much on dark things.

One of those times had laid its figure upon him as he lay atop the roof of the empty cathedral—and when weren't Gotham cathedrals empty?—standing in stark contrast at the front of a veritably clean and empty park, with greenery here and there, but overshadowed by the colors of summer's leave and autumn's time.

He is hurt after another fight in crime alley, this time after getting run down by a truck. He caught the guy, of course and turned him into the police, and there is no internal damage, but he is rather tired and just…doesn't want to go back to the orphanage yet.

Night has encompassed the surrounding area in a dim haze of blue and grays and black all around. It is no bother to him, even in his normal form and, without closing his eyes, he dreams without sleeping.

In these dreams, Damian is there, always, as said. But, unlike Colin in these departures from reality, the brooding brunette of a baby Bat never ever ages from that of ten years old. Colin might change age from as he is now to a flourishing teenager at seven feet tall with even more freckles than ever, to a man with a leather jacket riding motorcycles (sometimes, he shudders to think of himself with an earring) and then to an age a child should never think of; old, passed middle-age, with grey hair and with a cane even if he doubts this reality will ever come to pass.

But Damian is always young, always fresh always… Colin cannot imagine that Damian could be anything more than he is now, not a child—if ever he was—or a teenager that would no doubt draw in hearts only to smash them into nothing and then into some adult similar to Mr. Wayne, but with more pointed features and prettier and darker in coloring, like Damian's mother. When Colin tries to imagine Damian as an adult, most times without him, the ginger gets sad and goes right back to thinking of Damian in this perfect age and time.

Blinking away the visage of his friend from his mind as he feels the communicator Damian thrust upon him one day while walking Colin back to the orphanage, 'It's not a toy, and it's not like I need your help, but you need something to call for help if you ever get in over your head'start buzzing in his pocket, the melancholy of the dream goes away and he smiles even though Damian cannot see through the line.

"Hello?"

The voice on the other end is short and to the point, but Colin can read through that to understand that there is something like boredom or desperation in his tone, "I am leaving the Batbunker to get away from Red Robin's and Nightwing's insufferable chatter. I will be meeting you at your location in ten minutes. Over."

"I'm at the park with the cathedral and all the clean grass and nice sidewalks…um. Oh, right. Over."

"Gah…I'll be there soon. Over."

The line cuts off and Colin smiles at the way he could always break his friend's serious attitude, even when he wasn't trying.

While he waited, perhaps this daydream would involve Damian and him on that motorcycle the brunette had given him. Colin would be a teenager and Damian…he could be twelve.