Chapter two: Division bell
By the time Pennyworth knocked on his door to wake him up, Damian was already roaming through the Internet.
Sleep hadn't come easy yesterday night as mixed feelings had kept him awake. After only a few hours of dozing, Damian finally admitted that he wasn't as proud of himself as he had been a few hours ago. He wasn't able to forget his mother's words or Grayson's shocked expression, and faced with two equally unpleasant issues, Damian decided to deal with the easier one.
Half an hour later, he stared at a desktop full of gruesome pictures and facts that told a bleak story; history class and his grandfather's private mentors had skipped a huge deal of European history, apparently. Damian knew about the devastation and chaos the Second World War had brought over Europe, could name all dates and important battles by heart, and knew about the Holocaust, of course.
He didn't know, though, that the Jews weren't the only ethnic group that had been systematically executed, and he certainly hadn't known that Grayson's ancestors had been part of that hunt and partially immigrated to the United States as soon as they had the chance.
While Damian stared at a propaganda poster on his screen, a feeling stirred in his chest that he couldn't place immediately – probably for the first time in his life, Damian felt ashamed. He shouldn't have said anything like this to Grayson, but more importantly, he shouldn't have repeated the words of a drunken imbecile when he didn't even know what they meant. His mother had taught him better than that, and his grandfather would have had him beaten bloody.
Things didn't improve when Damian arrived at the breakfast table and saw that Grayson was already there, nursing a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper.
"Grayson," he growled in his usual way of greeting, eyeing the other's body language carefully.
The acrobat was easy to read; since moving was such an integral part of Grayson's personality, his moods and emotions were always visible in his posture. But there was nothing now, and even when Grayson answered with a calm "Good morning, Damian", he wouldn't even drop the newspaper to send him that obnoxious smile.
Still mad, then? No, Grayson wasn't able to shut up when he was mad. He wasn't sulking either, he usually did that with indignant looks and complete ignorance. Damian was more than experienced in enduring Grayson's overbearing emotions, but it was the first time the idiot was actually quiet.
"Grayson," Damian called out gravely, steadying himself for what was about to come.
The other man sensed the change of atmosphere and dropped the newspaper, meeting Damian's eyes in quiet expectation. He looked tired, as if he had slept even less than Damian had, and that gave him a twinge of guilty conscience. It was unsettling and unnerving, and while Damian watched the calm figure, he tried to recall why he had snapped like that yesterday. Usually his insults and accusations simply bounced off of Grayson's stubbornness and the older man went on with his sermons unfazed – this time they shut him up for good.
Contrary to public belief, Damian was indeed capable of analyzing his mistakes and failures. He just had no need to do it as openly and dramatically as Grayson or the idiot Drake did. Living with his grandfather and the League had taught him early to be most critical with himself without showing it to the outside world. Living in the Manor on the other hand had confronted him with another role, with Robin. He had, albeit reluctantly, learned about cooperation, and the importance of a healthy relationship between Batman and Robin. He wasn't alone anymore, and cooperation needed a minimum of communication and trust.
"I wish to apologize for my inappropriate comment yesterday night," he said therefore, feeling a blush cover his cheeks while he desperately tried to keep up a confident and proud appearance.
Apologies were a rare thing in Damian's world, and he knew they had the ultimate effect on Grayson, who always tried to teach him humbleness in social interactions. He was surprised therefore when Grayson only raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
"I'm listening," he simply said and Damian cursed the other's attentiveness. 'I wish to apologize' was not the same as 'I apologize'.
"I'm sorry," he growled, glaring angrily at the table. "I only grasped the full meaning of my words after I said them."
There, it was out. Damian dared to sneak a look at Grayson's face, and found that the older man was looking back at him pensively.
"...So?"
"So..." Damian was confused now. "...so I apologize for having said those words."
Silence. Uncomfortable, Damian waited for the other man to say anything.
"I know this isn't easy for you, Damian," Grayson finally replied after a while, straightening the paper of the newspaper again. "I appreciate the try."
The silence that followed was only interrupted by the rustling of the newspaper when Grayson held it up again. Damian needed a few moments to understand what the other man had just said and to calm the rage that bubbled up in him right after.
"You don't accept it?" He hissed, but winced when he sounded more like a sulking 5-year-old. He had just apologized, goddamnit, what the hell was Grayson's problem?!
"An apology should always be honest, Damian." Grayson folded the newspaper slowly, obviously preparing himself for something. His movements were slow, too slow for the hyperactive acrobat.
"Are you insinuating I didn't mean what I said?" Damian was furious now, furious and confused. He didn't know what was going on.
"You are sorry for saying something you didn't know the meaning of," Grayson stated, leaning forward and sloppily gesturing Damian to finally take a seat, which he reluctantly did. "You are not sorry for the impact it had on me."
"-tt-, that's splitting hairs."
"It's not. Everything you said to me yesterday was deliberately meant to hurt me. You may have gone too far with mentioning Europe, but you are not sorry for the rest. Since your apology only included one comment, it's safe to assume that you're not sorry about hurting me."
Grayson said those things with such freakish calm that Damian could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing up. Batman logic... he was not used to this outside of the capes. He didn't know how to deal with this, so he looked away and crossed his arms defiantly.
"-tt-."
"I'm glad you came to me though, because we really need to talk about yesterday."
"Are you going to lecture me again?" Damian growled, still pissed about that insolent rejection of his apology.
"No," Grayson said joylessly, "I'm pretty tired of wasting my breath on that any more."
Damian flinched unintentionally and tried to read Grayson's expression... without success. The other man displayed no emotion whatsoever, just calm and determined, so un-Graysonlike it made the boy uneasy.
"What is the meaning of this?"
"It means that I'm sick and tired of trying to teach you. It's been more than a year and you still won't listen to the simplest things I'm trying to make you see, and honestly I can't take your bratty behaviour anymore. Lord knows I've tried, but you and I know both know it's not working."
Damian stared wide-eyed at the man in front of him. He hadn't expected this, didn't know what to make out of it. He had made a stupid mistake and apologized, hadn't he? What was Grayson aiming for?
"Are you trying to punish me?"
"Ha, because that always worked so well," Grayson chuckled humorlessly. "No, I want you to remember that you came on your own account."
The floor under Damian's feet was shifting, suddenly, and for a terrible moment he feared that he'd lose his balance. Grayson was about to throw him out, send him back to his mother, who had just replaced him with a clone. He couldn't go back to her, to his grandfather..
"Are you sending me away?" he whispered hoarsely.
"No. I promised you I'd never do that." – Damian let out a breath he'd been holding – "But I want you to think about why you're here, and that nobody is forcing you to stay."
"I know that."
"Very well. Then tell me what I need to do to keep you here."
Damian stared at him, clueless. Grayson was completely serious, awaiting a reply.
"I don't... understand."
Exasperated, Grayson sighed and leaned back. "Dami, I don't know what to do with you anymore. It's not working out my way, and I don't have the energy left to try further. Maybe you were right all along, and I was wrong to treat you like a child." He smiled at Damian in a sad and rueful way that made him look tired and old. "So we'll try it your way, but you need to tell me what you want."
With each word, Damian felt his eyes widen more. Grayson seriously wanted to know what he wanted? Nobody ever had asked Damian about his opinion. Nobody had been interested in what he wanted... but he had always wanted things, wished for things... and then, he understood. Grayson wasn't behaving detached to punish him, he was talking to him like he would to an adult.
The words sputtered out of him faster than he could comprehend. "Stop calling me Dami. Or Lil' D. My name is Damian. Stop with that ridiculous need for physical contact. Stop treating me like I need protection on patrol. You're Batman, try to act like him."
"I can't stop protecting you, you're still my brother." Grayson looked and sounded positively unhappy.
"No, I'm not. We're not brothers, we're not related." Damian's hands were shaking with enthusiasm when he felt that Grayson was actually listening to him for the first time, taking him seriously. "Stop acting as if we are anything else than Batman and Robin. If you'd finally stop acting like an emotional buffoon you could finally be more efficient."
"..that's what you want from me? More efficiency?"
"Yes."
"So basically," Grayson looked gloomily at Damian, voice dripping with discontent, "you want me to be what your mother told you about Bruce."
"Yes." Damian had problems hiding his excitement. Grayson had never been this serious in his presence, not even while wearing the cowl – maybe he still had the chance of experiencing a Batman he could take seriously, and maybe his mother would see it and realize that it hadn't been his fault things had gone so wrong in Gotham.
"Are you sure then this is what you want? It sounds an awful lot like what your mother would want."
"-tt-, I think you should know me well enough by now to answer that question yourself." Damian jerked his gaze away, pissed about Grayson's ability to read him.
"I thought I did, but then again I didn't take you as someone who would parrot a drunken Francis Bolton." Grayson's eyes narrowed dangerously with the last comment and Damian felt the blush creeping over his face.
"I apologized," he gritted out between clenched teeth. How did he know it had been Bolton...?
"Yes, you apologized very convincingly to the table, that's true."
Damian refused to reply to that blatant offense, and a long silence stretched between them.
"More efficiency, less cuddling, huh?" Grayson had crossed his arms by now, staring into empty space and visibly trying to figure out how to do that. He looked like a kicked puppy, although not especially surprised. "That will only work if you listen to me, Damian. I can't be more focused on the field if I have to worry about you disappearing or ruining our cover."
Damian nodded, that was true. A small price to pay if that meant that Grayson would finally act up.
"And I'm still legally your guardian. I can only stop acting like it if you stop behaving like a child that needs one. I have to appear on your parent-teacher conferences; if you want me to stay away, you have to stop provoking them."
"I will."
"... and you're sure you want this?"
"Yes."
"Look at me. You really want me to stop being your brother?"
Damian looked up like ordered and nodded, never breaking eye contact. Grayson looked back at him closely, probably trying to find any doubt in Damian's well-kept expression. When he found none, he nodded too, albeit grudgingly.
"Master Damian," Alfred suddenly interrupted their silent agreement. "It's time for school. Master Dick, I wish to speak to you before you head to your conference." The butler was collecting the dishes, sending deadly glares into Grayson's direction.
Damian snickered, leaving the room without any superfluous good-byes.
When Damian returned from school, a list of training exercises awaited him in the Batcave as well as a new case he had to work through. Grayson was nowhere in sight, and when he still wasn't present in the Manor the next day, Damian asked Pennyworth.
"No, I can assure you Master Richard is not 'off somewhere, sulking'," Pennyworth eyed Damian coldly while preparing a dinner for two. "He's attending the bimonthly CEO meeting and will be back in a few days, when it's over."
Damian's brow furrowed. "He never stayed overnight at those."
"He told me he'd be sleeping in his old flat this time, since it would be more convenient."
"This meeting is in Blüdhaven?"
"They all were, but Richard usually wished to spend his evenings with his family."
Sappy idiot, Damian thought, but knew better than to voice it loudly in Pennyworth's presence.
The case kept Damian busy for the next few days, and Pennyworth kept an eye on him closely to prevent him from any strictly forbidden solo-flights. The butler was obviously unhappy with his and Grayson's deal, and after his first failed try to talk with Damian, he remained silent about it.
Not that Pennyworth ever was a talkative person, and neither was Damian. Their dinners were filled with silence, which Damian convinced himself was a welcome exception.
On the third day, however, he had to admit that the welcome exception seemed awful close to boredom.
-tbc-
A/N: so, let's make a few things clear. I love Damian. But I think he still has a looong way to go (which DC just made impossible, but we'll ignore that). And I love Dick, and I think he's an awesome big bro/ parent. But Damian isn't easy, and Dick is, at least in my head canon, not as perfect as he is often portrayed in other ffs. Despite all his awesomeness, he has a breaking point, and a looot of temper. Also, that guy has been through so much - he's tough. I can't imagine Dick taking all of Damian's insolence without snapping at some point, so this is the story in which he just says: 'okay, screw everything. Do it your way'. :)
Thanks for a very warm reception!
