July 29th, 2018. 00:16

Damian could hear the heavy breathing of Batman next to him, the grunts he so desperately tried to hide with every turn of the batmobile. Damian still heard it, could feel it in his own bones, a deep lingering hurt from the battle they just fought. Batman's wounds were worse, he had protected Robin from a direct hit.

A disapproving stare was all Damian had gotten before Batman jumped away again.

Disappointment.

There was so much disappointment in Batman's eyes. And as much as Damian wanted, or tried, to deny it, he felt angry over his brother's disappointment, a sense of dread gnawing at his stomach. He was sure that if he didn't force it down he'd puke right then and there in the batmobile, but he suppressed it.

It wasn't the first mistake he had made on the job, and he had made plenty in his life. But it was the first major one. One that caused the bad guys to get away, and Batman to be injured quite badly from protecting him. Protecting him from a thug he could've easily avoided if he had just…. if he had just been a better Robin.

If he wasn't such a failure.

Robin gritted his teeth, staring ahead as they entered the batcave, not taking his eyes off the side of the car before it came to a stop. Dick grunted next to him, opening the door and stumbling out. He seemed unsteady on his feet for a moment before he walked over to the computer without saying much more.

Damian took a shuddering breath, stepping out of the car as well.

"I suppose it did not go well?" Pennyworth asks, and Damian quietly walks over to his older brother and butler. Dick sighs, sitting down on the chair with his cowl pulled back and resting at the back of his neck.

"It didn't." There was a tightness in his voice, and Dick glances at Damian for a while. It was directed at him. "Damian go upstairs, take a shower. We're done for tonight." He says. Damian can feel dread fill his body, muscles stiffening. For a second he waited, waited for his brother to add anything else before his face turned into a sneer.

"Fine." He spat, turning his body around before stomping away. Dick and Alfred watches the younger boy. Dick sighs, rubbing his forehead.

"Are you mad at him Master Dick?" Alfred asks, silently getting back to treating Dick's wounds. There weren't a lot, but still a few gashes that required stitches.

"He scared me tonight Alfred. He almost got himself killed." Dick whispers, presenting his arm so Alfred could treat it.

"How long are you grounding him for?" Alfred asks, and Dick snaps his head up.

"I'm not." Dick shakes his head softly. "He didn't go off alone, he just made a mistake, everyone makes them. He just…. if I hadn't been there, that wound you're stitching would've been on his throat." And Dick didn't need to clarify to the butler what he was talking about right now. If Dick hadn't jumped in…

.. Damian would've been dead right now.

July 29th, 2018. 00:38

Hit, hit, hit. He couldn't even feel his knuckles anymore, pain lost in his mind as he continued to hit. He grit his teeth, shifting his feet just an inch to get a better grip on the ground beneath before striking again. He imagined the grunt of pain the person he'd strike would give off but he didn't get any satisfaction from it.

Disappointment the word continued to run through his head. Not good enough. His mother's voice, his mother's disappointment, his mother's expectations.

"ARGH!" Damian cried out, striking the punching bag again. The metal protested, before the material ripped, tearing at the seams. He breathed hard, stumbling back. BE BETTER. He breathed hard, hands flying to his face. He flinched, feeling something wet touch his face. He removes his hand from his face.

The hand was smeared with blood , knuckles torn open. He stared at it, watching his hands shake from the pain and exhaustion. And it felt good.

Ignore the pain, the mission is more important.

Stand up Hafid.

Get moving or you die.

His mother's voice, always a comfort when he was younger now felt like a blow to the gut. his mother tongue, the very language he missed the moment his mother brought him to Gotham, now felt like a knife in his stomach. He hated it, he hated every lesson his mother had taught to him.

Pain is in the mind.

Learn to not feel.

You can trust no one but yourself.

Kill him.

You disappoint me.

You should do better.

Kill him.

Hafid focus!

This should teach you.

Kill him.

"SHUT UP!" Damian yelled, striking again. His hand shook with pain, and he grunted, biting his lips. He breathed through his nose, as if he was willing to make the pain go away, to make it more bearable. The voice.. his mother's voice.. gone. He blinked, staring down at his hands again.

Blood was now smeared with sand from the bag, but the pain.. the pain felt good. His head was finally silent.

He struck again.

October 16th, 2019. 01:26. Three months later.

"Is it safe to assume master Damian has been hurt tonight?" Alfred asks, voice soft but not letting up any debate. Dick watches the butler silently as he pulled another stitch through his arm.

"He was nicked on his leg, but .. y'know." Dick muttered, gesturing to the stairs leading to the manor. Dick didn't have the energy to stop Damian from storming out of the cave when they got home now almost 15 minutes ago. And Dick highly doubted he could've stopped Damian even if he had tried.

"Master Damian has not lost his temper in a while."

"Well he did tonight." Dick sighs, rubbing his face with his free hand. "I'll talk to him in a minute, don't worry Alf."

"By now you should know Master Dick that I always worry about all of you." Alfred comments, a smile tugging at his lips as he snips off the stitch. "Might I suggest you visit the training room?"

"You think he's there?" Dick watches impatiently as Alfred cleans the area again before covering it with a clean bandage. Alfred nods.

"Have you not noticed Master Damian habits of training after a particularly bad night?" Alfred asks, but Dick shakes his head.

"I mean I knew he trains a lot, too much if you ask me, but I just thought he went to bed." Dick says, and Alfred silently grabs the tray and puts it aside. "Am I a bad brother for not noticing?" Dick whispers after a silent moment. Alfred turns around, a defeated look on his face at the sentence.

"You are not." The sentence wasn't loud, but it left no room for any debate. "Master Damian is a difficult and complex boy, you have done an excellent job understanding him and making this a home for him." Dick smiles slightly at that despite himself, flexing his arm slightly before standing up.

"Thanks Alfred." Dick says, and Alfred simply nods.

"Now get going, do not think I have not noticed your lack of sleep lately." Dick chuckles, because of course Alfred knew. He knew almost everything going on in the manor.

"Don't stay up too late either." Dick calls back, before walking up the stairs. The cut on his arm was barely hurting anymore, but he had been lacking sleep the last few days. He just had so many responsibilities and plans. Being Batman was more demanding than he'd ever thought was possible.

Being in charge of the company was a full-time job, and so was being Batman. And on top of that he also had to raise his little brother. Not to mention other responsibilities like attending Justice League meetings and keeping in touch with his friends and his team, both the new and the old one.

Not like he would've done anything differently if he could choose right now. Damian deserved someone to care for him, and he deserved to be Robin to a Batman, and if that Batman could only be him, then so be it. And just like Damian needed a Batman, so did Gotham, so he really didn't have a choice.

But despite all the struggles, he could see how much good it was doing his youngest brother.

Being Robin was an outlet for him, for his rage, his energy. But it was also a way for him to grow. He was doing something good for the city, using his abilities for something positive instead of helping by killing and maiming. It took time, and it would take a lot more time before Damian was truly okay.

No… okay wasn't the word Dick would use in this case. Because that would imply Damian wasn't. He knew Damian was kind, the kid cared so much, bled the need for assurance. Dick could see hints of his true personality poking out more and more the longer Dick was caring for him.

It would take a lot more time before Damian would be able to get over his mother's upbringing and ideologies.

It would take a lot of time for Damian to be able to become his own person.

Dick shook his head slightly at the thought. He couldn't think ahead that much, he had to focus on the present instead. His legs burned slightly as he walked up the stairs, begging for him to take a break, shower and just go to sleep. But he pushed through, walking towards the training room.

The room was soundproof, so he didn't expect any noise to be heard.

What he didn't expect was the sight when he opened the door.

"Damian!" Dick snapped, shock coursing through his body. The boy didn't seem to hear him, eyes glazed over and full of rage, and pain. He was continuously hitting the bag with bare, bloody hands. He was only wearing his undershirt and black pants from his Robin costume, the rest was thrown through the room.

But even from this distance, and despite the colour, he could see the sweat soaking his costume, or what was left of it. His legs trembled, his arms shook with exhaustion, but he continued hitting. Red splattered the bag, and blood was dripping on the ground, leaving a small trail on the ground.

"DAMIAN!" Dick screamed again, trying to get his younger brother's attention, but all he got was Damian striking again. Dick dashes forwards, at the moment he didn't even care about Damian possibly having weapons with him, or that the younger boy didn't actually need those weapons to hurt or kill him.

He wrapped his arms around him from behind. Damian cries out in anger, pain, exhaustion, whirling around and striking. Dick side-stepped behind Damian again, wrapping his arms tighter this time. Damian growled in anger, struggling in his arms but no matter how skilled Damian was, Dick was stronger.

And Damian was exhausted right now.

"Let me go!" Damian shouted, whimpered almost. Dick wasn't sure how he'd describe the desperate pleas right now. Damian continued to thrash in his hold, twisting his body in almost unnatural positions to try and wiggle out of his hold. But he never tried to hurt Dick, which the older man took as a positive.

Damian didn't want to hurt him… but he was. He felt nauseas, stomach twisting more violently the longer he saw his little brother in such distress, heart aching as if it was feeling the pain Damian was feeling right now. Damian was hurting him, not by physically attacking him..

But by hurting himself.

"Dami calm down." Dick whispered softly in Damian's ear, cradling him close. He slowly sunk to the ground, and Damian let him, struggling weakly, as if he had given up but tried to keep up an appearance.

"Let me go." Damian whispered, voice cracking through the sentence. Dick shook his head, knowing Damian could feel it.

"I'm not letting you go, little D." He tightened his arms slightly at the sentence, to show him that he really wasn't letting go. Damian sobbed in his hold, and he kept struggling weakly for a few more minutes before slumping against his older brother. Dick sighed softly, carting his hand through Damian's hair.

It was sticky from the sweat, but Dick found himself not caring at all.

"Are you okay?" Dick asks softly, still not untangling himself. His chin was propped up on Damian's shoulder, back aching almost awkwardly at the position. Damian was so unbelievably small, so young.

"I am fine." Dick could hear the venom Damian tried to add to his voice, to the sentence. He wanted to sneer to show that he was fine. But Dick could hear the exhaustion in his voice, the tightness in his throat. "Leave me."

"I'm not leaving you Dami, you should know that." Dick responds immediately, and Damian huffs out a breath. He did.. he did know that. There was a short silence again, and Dick could only focus on Damian's shaking limbs, the blood smeared on his knuckles like he dipped his hands in red paint.

Dick shifted slightly, so he was facing Damian side and the younger boy hesitantly looks up. HIs green eyes were filled with tears, tears he desperately tried to hold back. Dick sighed, brushing his thumbs across his eyes and carefully wiping them away. Damian stiffens slightly but doesn't flinch.

It only made Dick a little sadder that it meant progress that Damian wasn't outright flinching away from him at such a gentle touch.

"I'm sorry." Damian whispers, and Dick gently reaches for Damian's hands, not caring about coating his own hands with blood.

"What are you sorry for?" Dick asks softly, looking Damian in the eyes. The younger boy swallows thickly.

"They won't shut up." Damian whispers in a broken voice. Dick frowns.

"Who won't shut up?"

"Everyone.. mother, grandfather, my teachers.." Damian trailed off, a tear slipping from his eye at the admission.

"Do you hear them in your head?" Dick asks softly, and Damian nods brokenly, hiccupping softly. "Then why were you training?" Hurting yourself? Damian lowers his eyes, trailing towards the broken mirror on the wall. A faint trail of blood led from the broken mirror to the punching bag.

Dick followed his gaze, stomach twisting again.

"They keep saying I need to be punished, I messed up tonight… I'm just so used to…-" Damian stops himself, swallowing thickly. And Dick knew that he would've thrown up his dinner if Damian hadn't been there, if he didn't need him right now. Because the admission, no matter how grateful he was that Damian trusted him enough..

… sickened him.

"You were punishing yourself because someone punished you in the League?" Dick asks softly, forcing the nausea down, for Damian's sake.

"If I made a mistake." Damian clarifies. And he made one today. "It is the only way to shut them up, Grayson. I… I do not know what to do." Damian says, and it was as if that was the last straw. Damian hiccupped once again before tears started cascading down his cheeks in big rivers.

Dick can feel his own tears burning in his eyes, and he reaches forwards, crushing Damian against his chest. Damian sobs openly in Dick's chest, grasping his shirt with shaking hands.

"We'll think of something, you'll be okay." Dick murmured, rubbing Damian's back. "Can I pick you up?" Dick found himself asking suddenly, and much to his surprise Damian nodded against his chest. Dick waited for just a moment more, to allow Damian to have second thoughts but they never came.

Dick shifted, manoeuvring Damian until he could carefully pick him up. Damian tensed slightly in his hold, but didn't try to move away, for which Dick was glad. He stood up fully, walking out of the room and towards Damian's room. He didn't stop there, immediately walking over to his bathroom.

Damian started squirming slightly and Dick sat Damian down on the edge of the bathtub.

"You think you can handle a shower right now?" Dick asks, glancing at Damian's bloody hands. The younger boy nods, and Dick smiles slightly. "I'll be right outside okay? Then I want to look at your hands." Dick ruffles Damian's hair carefully, before almost hesitantly leaving his younger brother alone.

Dick carefully picked up the med kit from one of Damian's closets, putting it on his bed and sitting down himself as well. Dick waited patiently, listening to the water running, before it was shut off again. There was a short silence before the door opened again, and Damian came walking back into the room.

Damian silently climbed onto the bed, hands already looking so much better. Dick didn't say anything as he grabbed the disinfect, rubbing it across Damian's hands.

"How long has this been going on?" Dick dared to ask, not taking his eyes off Damian's hands. The younger boy shrugs absently.

"I do not remember." Damian huffs. "This summer I believe but after father went away, you were Batman." Dick was silent again, and Damian allowed him to clean his hands carefully, before wrapping bandages around them.

"Everyone makes mistakes y'know?" Dick eventually whispers softly, not looking up. "You don't need to punish yourself when you do, that's not how we do things around here."

"But the voices-"

"Are wrong." Dick finishes, clipping the bandages so they wouldn't fall off and looking up at his little brother. "I'm sorry you hear them, but they're wrong. Whatever they did to you in the League was wrong. But you don't have to prove your worth to me, and you don't need to train to do so… or to hurt yourself."

Damian frowns. "I didn't do it to hurt…" Damian trails off, frowning even more. Dick sighs, rubbing the newly bandaged hands.

"Sometimes we do things without realising." He mutters. "It's not your fault Dami, but I can't let you continue hurting yourself by training every time." Who even knew how many times Damian had done this before today? Dick had no idea what Damian classified as a failure, how quick he had been punished for something in the League.

Dick glances up again, and he almost chuckles at the tired look on Damian's face, eyelids drooping as he tried to keep himself awake.

"We'll talk about this in the morning okay? You need some sleep." Dick says, shifting and holding up the blanket for Damian to crawl under it.

"Stay?" Damian whispers softly, and Dick blinks. Damian had never asked him to stay. He had started to tolerate his presence, his need for cuddling, but never outright asked Dick to stay with him. Dick's eyes softened.

"Of course kiddo." He smiled, crawling under the covers as well. Damian didn't move, but Dick reached out immediately, pulling the younger boy towards him. Damian huffs, but doesn't move away.

"You'll be okay, little D." Dick murmurs, kissing Damian's scalp. He doesn't get a reply, and Dick could feel soft breaths against his neck, Damian breathing softly but evenly. Dick chuckles, closing his eyes as well.

Everything is improved by cuddles, you can fight me on this. Cuddles in every story.