Damian wakes to the feeling of overwhelming cheerfulness. He knows exactly whose emotions he's feeling. Damian is confused by the concept that Dick really is just that happy all of the time. He was sure that at least some of it was an act. The fact that it's not makes Damian wonder how anyone can be that blithe all of the time. The emotion suddenly gets even more intense right before Dick throws open Damian's door, smiling brightly at him. "Hey, little D, how are you feeling? Have you noticed any other effects from the spell?"
Damian just glares at him, because now he can feel that the concern is genuine, and it just annoys him-especially since Dick is still radiating happiness. It makes Damian want to sneer at him. "I'm fine, Grayson. Your concern is unwarranted."
Dick just sighs, as though Damian's response is an expected one. "Okay, well, you should get dressed. You know how much Alfred hates it when we're late to breakfast." Dick turns to go, but is halted by Damian's voice.
"Is Drake still here?" Damian knows that it's not said with his usual disdain, but he just wants to know what he needs to prepare himself for, which means that he has to suffer through the fact that Dick's exuberance is giving him a headache.
Dick pauses for a second, clearly caught off-guard by the question. "Um, I didn't even know Tim was here. I thought he went back to his place after patrol last night."
Dick's bewilderment makes Damian's stomach lurch. He really hadn't expected everyone's emotions to affect him in such a physical way, and it's really starting to irritate him. Damian scoffs to cover up his own discomfort. "Surely, it was just easier and quicker for him to come back here to sew up his leg."
"Tim was injured?"
The concern rolls off of Dick in waves that crash into Damian and make him want to double over. "Calm down, it wasn't anything serious. The wound was barely even worth the sutures." His words don't sooth Dick any, and now Damian is having difficulty ignoring the way Dick's emotions are effecting him. Damian rolls his eyes at him, and gestures for Dick to leave. "Well, aren't you going to go bother Drake about his injuries? Not that they are really worth mentioning, I assure you."
Dick leaves, and Damian breathes a sigh of relief. He's almost tempted to contact Raven and ask her how she deals with the physical drawback of her abilities, but then others would know about his new-found skill. Damian doesn't know what the others would do if they knew how the spell really effected him, but he's fairly certain that patrol and his other Robin duties would be suspended until the spell wore off. He doesn't want that, nor does he want the others to start treating him differently just because he now knows what they're feeling.
He has no idea why he told Drake what happened to him, or why he's certain that Drake won't tell the others, but none of that is really important right now. Now, he needs to find some way to deal with the physical symptoms afflicted upon him by everyone's emotions, especially if he intends to patrol tonight. The last thing that he needs is to have something else happen while he's in the Robin suit.
When Damian gets down to the kitchen, he doesn't even need to enter the room to know who's inside. There's a deep calm resonating off of one of the occupants. Damian knows that he's registering Alfred's feelings, simply because it's an emotion that none of them emit the way that Alfred does. It washes over him, and leaves him feeling light. His stomach suddenly no longer feels like it's trying to do flips, and he finds himself feeling physically better than he has all day. Damian breaths a sigh of relief before he's hit with another burst of Dick's overpowering joy. He can feel the migraine generated by that particular emotion starting again, but it's a low-grade thrumming, and it's easily ignored. The final flood of emotion that Damian picks up is an immense gloom that makes his entire body ache. Apparently, Tim stayed, after all.
It takes a few moments before Damian is sure that he can go into the room without being overtaken by everything that they're all feeling. He steadies himself and works on making it appear as though nothing is amiss. When he enters the room, Dick smiles at him and gestures for him to sit beside him. Tim doesn't glance up from his cup of coffee, but Damian can feel the anxiousness that he's trying to conceal. Clearly, Tim wishes that he was anywhere else right now, and Damian knows it's not just because he knows that Damian can read his emotions. He doesn't say anything, though. Instead, Damian just sits and waits for Alfred to serve them.
Dick leans down and nudges him with his elbow. "Hey, are you sure you're okay? You're awfully quiet over there."
Damian nods, and tries his best not to punch Dick in the face for his concern. It's still annoying, and worse, it's making him ill again. "I'm fine, Grayson, so stop looking at me like that." Damian growls out as he glares at him.
Dick holds up his hands in the air defensively. "Okay, okay, but we still don't know what that spell was supposed to do, so if you feel weird or different at all you have to tell someone."
Damian waves his hand at him dismissively. "Yes, yes, I'm well aware."
Dick ruffles his hair, before he turns back to his own cup of coffee. Damian just wishes that Dick's emotions were as easily dismissed. Tim's in the process of pointedly ignoring them as he focuses on anything but Dick and Damian. Damian almost wants to ask why Dick isn't more concerned with Tim's lack of talking, but he doesn't really want to find out how many emotions that one question would delve up, nor does he know if he'd be able to handle all of the reactions said emotions would cause him. They eat in relative silence-relative, because Dick never stops talking, even when there's food in his mouth. Tim eats quickly, and then makes some excuse about having work to do before heading for the door.
Damian can feel Dick's mirthful mood dampen a little at that. He isn't actually sure how that can feel worse than the full-on cheerfulness that was giving him a headache earlier, but it does. It feels like a small part of himself dimmed slightly, and it makes him want to massage his temples or possibly just yell at Dick for a while. Hell, he's starting to imagine himself banging Dick's head off of the table until unconsciousness overtakes him. Damian rolls his eyes, and then clears his throat. "If you're so worried about the idiot, you could go after him instead of sitting here with that pathetic expression plastered on your face." Quite frankly, Damian doesn't care if Dick takes the suggestion or not. He just wants Dick to go away for a while or stop feeling so much all of the time.
Dick stares at him for a moment before shaking his head. "Nah, Tim probably really does have work to do, and someone has to make sure that you don't turn into a three-toed sloth or some other terrible thing."
Damian rolls his eyes again. "I think we should be more concerned with your tendency to act like a bumbling baboon."
Dick smirks at him, and Damian really does want to clutch his head now. "Why? Just because I like bananas? That just seems unimaginative, D."
"You're an idiot, Grayson."
Dick laughs as he ruffles Damian's hair again. "Yeah, so I've been told."
Damian pulls away from the hand in his hair. "You're insufferable. I'll be in my room. Thank you for breakfast, Pennyworth." Damian is about to turn and leave when he's suddenly hit with the shock and worry from both of them. He scoffs and glares at the kitchen as a whole. "You are, after all, the only person in this entire building I can pretend to stand at the moment." Damian doesn't give either of them a chance to respond before he retreats back to his room, intent on finding some way to deal with his splitting migraine.
The End (for now)