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CONTAGIOUS

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Dick was jubilant.

Feet sweeping against the marble floor while humming an improvised melody, he joyously danced with an invisible entity. Whenever he was this happy, his gestures became more exuberant, pronounced, and exaggerated.

Alfred could not disguise his amusement as he peered into the living room. A small chuckle escaped from his lips, but he withdrew a breath when Dick pirouetted past the glass table, barely knocking the vermillion ceramic vase. A smile reappeared on his face, however the boy standing next to him could not mirror the same amusement.

"What is Grayson doing?" Damian said, folding his arms.

"It appears," Alfred replied, "that Master Dick is dancing."

"I know what he is doing, Pennyworth," Damian snapped. "I want to know why he is making a buffoon out of himself. It's pathetic."

"He always is in the best of spirits before a musical. At your age, he'd beg Master Bruce to attend almost every musical that would come to town, " Alfred nodded to himself. "Won't you be the one accompanying him this evening?"

"I don't want to." Damian huffed, despite being dressed in a suit and tie. "But he expects me to go."

"You could suggest Master Tim to go in your place?"

He snorted at Alfred's proposal. "Drake isn't worthy of Grayson's company. He specifically asked for me."

"Then you know how much this means to him."

Damian shook his head as Dick collapsed onto the leather sofa. The cushions toppled over the older boy's body, causing him to disperse into a fit of childish laughter. Trust Dick to finding toppling cushions hilarious. How had something as common as going to see a musical, altered Dick's mood?

A few hours back, Damian was certain thunderclouds were looming over his brother's head. Dick's mood was irate, glaring daggers at anything he'd see, jaw taut and body tense with every movement he'd make. Damian knew it had been related to murderer who had fled the country, prior to them solving the case, therefore making it a complicated international case.

Dick was the mood-maker, a force to not reckoned with, whether he was bursting with positivity, or drowning in misery. His moods were contagious. And, back then, Damian read fury radiating from his brother – something that Damian had not wanted to be contagious. He knew that if father came back home and Dick's mood would be like this, there was an explosive argument waiting to happen. One wrong move would make Dick snap, and whenever Dick sapped...Dick snapped. Damian had strategised that he had to get Dick out of the manor before that happened.

Fortunately, for Damian, Barbara had a good sense of timing. It was like she had predicted Dick's mood. She had visited the manor, and spent a good half hour trying to calm Dick down. When she had opened the door after talking to Dick, Damian knew that she had succeeded in cooling his brother down.

Damian remembered the last words she had said to Dick, before wheeling herself out. "Take a break, Boy Wonder. Put the tickets to good use."

The tickets turned out to for the musical that evening. Barbara was assisting with Birds of Prey that night, so she had given them to Dick in hopes to cheer him up and, somehow, Damian had been the next option by default.

"Have you ever been to a musical?" Dick had excitedly asked him, bouncing to Damian as soon as Barbara had left.

"No." Damian had scowled, eyebrow raising up from behind his peppermint tea. "What is a musical?"

"We're going! Be ready in two hours!"

Dick darted off before he offered an explanation or a reply.

This left Damian to research what a musical was. He poured over articles, and the encyclopaedia in Father's old library, groaning to himself when he had discovered its true meaning and that he had to wear something of a formal attire. Damian already had had enough from the last weekend charity gala, and now he had to put up with even more theatrics. Literally.

Despite it all, Damian had been curious. He had gotten ready, dressed himself, polished his shoes and gelled back his hair.

If it made Dick this happy, perhaps it was worth going?

That was what Damian thought, but now he was beginning to regret it as he surveyed his older brother hug the cushion, feet kicking the air with a wide grin plastered on his face.

"I think it's rather unhealthy to be this happy, Pennyworth."

Alfred chuckled again. "Would you rather have him maddened, Master Damian?"

"Not at all." Damian gave a small smile.

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(a/n) Just thought I'd post this one-shot here too. (Originally posted on my AO3) ;)