4.

"Tonight I'm taking you to meet the team. You'll be working with them in the future, and it would be good for you to learn some team training exercises," Grayson said, his voice serious.

Damian leaned back over the couch in a very Grayson-like fashion, bending his back over and touching his hands on the ground behind him. He scowled, though he knew that Grayson couldn't see him. "I don't need team training, I work perfectly well enough with you. Or on my own," he remarked, throwing his legs back so he was standing in a handstand.

"Point your toes. And yes, you do. I thought the same thing too. It'll be good for you to learn to work with other people," Grayson replied. Damian pointed his toes.

"Fatgirl or Drake count," Damian said, "I've worked with them."

"With me there."

"On my own."

"Going off on your own because you didn't follow orders and running into them don't count, Damian," Grayson said, his voice still low and serious. Damian flipped back up and shot his mentor a scowl. "Besides, it'll be good for you to interact with kids your own age."

"Then the ones at school certainly count, Grayson," Damian said with a sigh. "I hardly find it reasonable to send me to school at all anyway. I've already gathered more knowledge than those imbeciles will ever consume in their lifetime."

"Hardly," Grayson said, his lips twitching into a grin, "I believe social skills is still something you need to check off."

Damian scoffed and flopped down on the couch. He crossed his arms and glared at Grayson's head. They were sitting in the living room of the penthouse, Grayson with several files out in front of him and Damian with the sketchbook sitting on the table unopened. It was light out still and they'd just finished dinner only an hour ago. Batman and Robin were, apparently, not going out tonight; all because Robin needed to learn to work with a team.

Damian found he didn't mind the idea as much as he detested not spending time learning more from Grayson. He'd begun, subtly, incorporating a more acrobatic style to his fighting. If only because when he and Drake sparred, the older boy wasn't expecting it at all. Grayson's style wasn't as predictable, but patterns arose regardless. Damian's was too straightforward— it was the one thing Bruce Wayne had remarked upon about him. Too forward, too easy to take down. Good, but predictable. So, Damian, eager to impress his father, had begun flinging random fighting styles into his forms. Recently he felt like a mix and match guessing game of Who's Influencing Who's Kicking Your Butt? but he hoped he and Grayson could train separately and not worry about that.

Plus, Grayson tended to explain his actions as he did them, as opposed to doing them and having Damian figure it out later. Not that that was how his father did them either, but the man was too busy with Batman Incorporated to train Damian himself. Thus, Damian was left with Grayson's odd style of fighting being mixed with Damian's straightforward League of Assassin's training. And Damian got praised. He was told he was doing well. He was pushed hard and often Grayson's training routines were ruthless in their execution. But he was improving. Everyday.

"I get social interaction from you," a pause, "and Gordon."

Grayson and Gordon had recently begun talking again about their relationship. She'd taken to visiting every once in a while to hang out with Damian and Grayson. It didn't bother Damian nearly as much as he thought it would.

Grayson… Dick… had been strained recently. Drake had taken a leave of absence to work with the Team and had left Wayne Enterprise's under Grayson watchful eye. And it was only with Drake because Bruce Wayne was "recovering" in the company's eyes. In reality he was dealing with Batman Inc. Grayson had been swamped with business deals, shipment calls, meetings, and public speeches. More often than not, Damian would walk in to find him on the phone, glaring out over of the city and in some argument with a board member.

Gordon had taken to coming and keeping up with everything else, picking Damian up from school, making sure that they were eating. Damian wasn't sure how relaxing it was, but she'd taken Grayson out grocery shopping and the two would do it for the week together as a destresser.

"Two adults almost old enough to be your parents don't count," Grayson countered. "I want you to relax with kids your own age, with people you can trust."

Damian looked away. It wasn't that he was ignoring the feeling, but it seemed Grayson had subconsciously picked up on the action as well— Grayson and Gordon acted, a little, like his father and mother. "I trust you," he said quietly. "Isn't that enough?"

"Trusting people shouldn't be limited, Damian," Grayson said, finally looking over at the boy. "You either trust someone or you don't, and you need more than just me. Having the team as people you can trust would be beneficial for you in the long run. I won't always be here. Eventually, you'll move back home with Bruce and you'll need to work on trusting him."

Damian flinched, his eyes widening just a smidgen before he scowled. "I see." He snatched his sketchbook and held it close to his chest, standing up sharply. Grayson jumped a little, surprised.

"I'll be in my room," Damian snapped. "Please inform me when we are departing."

He stomped off before Grayson could say anything, slamming the door to his room shut. He flopped down on his bed and hugged the sketchbook closer. He hated when Grayson talked about 'when Damian could return to the manor'. It made his stomach drop and his head swim. He didn't want to go back to the manor. Damian was perfectly content living in the penthouse with Grayson, with Gordon's visits, and operating his life from here. He didn't need to return to the manor. The manor wasn't home, not really. It wasn't where Damian did his schoolwork, where he drew and painted. It wasn't where Batman and Robin operated from, nor was it where Damian learned and ate and slept and watched movies with Grayson at.

He didn't want to move back and readjust his entire life over again, to relearn his life and habits and actions in a new place with a father who didn't know what to do with him.

Damian liked it here. Here was home. Why did he have to move back in with his biological father? Grayson was his father, he was the one who cared for him and taught him and was proud of Damian. He wiped the tears that leaked from his eyes. Why was he being so emotional? Couldn't he work through his emotions without wanting to cry? It was silly. He should just walk out there and tell Grayson he would do no such thing as live at the manor because it wasn't home. It was a house, but it was no home.

But he couldn't make his legs move. They felt heavy and tired and like lead. He was afraid. What if Grayson wanted him to go back to the manor? Because while Grayson was proud of Damian, so very, very proud, what if all he was, was just a little brother? Just someone who Grayson cared for out of obligation for the man who'd adopted him? What if he wanted to get on with his life, to worry about his relationship with Gordon and looking out for the company and working through his own hardships without having to care for a twelve year old former assassin who demanded Grayson's attention 24/7? Maybe Damian was more of a burden, more of a someone than anything else? He felt his heart seize.

He loved Grayson, desperately. He yearned for his attention and his praise more than anyone else's— not his mothers, nor his fathers, nor Ra's al Ghul.

Damian leaned up onto his elbows, wiping more tears from his eyes. He didn't want to go back. He was happy. He looked down at his sketchbook and a smile twitched on his face. He'd received the present months ago and he'd barely begun to make a dent in the pages. He looked back over around his room. Some weapons on the wall, a decorative sword lying over his gym clothes from Gotham Academy. On his desk were several textbooks, though the only one that laid open was his art history book. There was a corkboard that Grayson had hung up, insisting that Damian could "hang reminders and memories up there!"

He'd only hung up a couple of pictures and some movie tickets. The most recent was a picture of him, Grayson, and Gordon walking in one of the parks in the west side of Gotham eating ice cream. Grayson had insisted that since it was finally warm out, they get ice cream. Barbara had printed the picture out and given it to Damian.

"You'll find that you won't mind having it in the future," she'd remarked, sliding it across the dinner table.

He stood up and untacked the picture, staring down at his smiling face. It was a large grin. He had Grayson's arm around his small shoulders, and Gordon was on the other side, smiling at the camera she'd held above their head.

He was happy. He bit his lip and flipped the picture over. In Gordon's soft scrawl, the words "Damian, Dick, and I, 2023". He smiled and tacked the picture back up.

There was a sharp knock on his door. Damian turned.

"Come in," he said sharply.

Grayson slowly opened the door. "Hey, Lil' D. Headed out in five. Do you want to spend—."

"No," Damian said, not even entertaining the thought of going to spend the night there with a bunch of idiots.

Grayson hesitated. "Right, okay. I'll wait out here."

He closed the door softly. Damian turned to where the Robin uniform was hidden. He lifted up one of the paintings on the wall and pressed his hand to the invisible scanner. The wall slipped open with a hiss and the uniform stood there in its case. He put it on as slowly as he could and then slipped out of the door. Batman was waiting for him. The windows of the penthouse were blacked out completely.

They left in silence, Batman only occasionally looking over at him. They'd been working together for well over a year, and Robin knew that Batman knew that something was upsetting him. He stared straight ahead, rolling and flipping and zipping up buildings in silence. They dropped down at the Zeta-tube not fifteen minutes later.

"Want to tell me what's wrong before we go in?" Batman said, his voice a low growl.

"I'll tell if you tell me what's bothering you," Robin replied, crossing his arms.

"I asked first."

"You're a child, Grayson," Robin said, rolling his eyes beneath the mask despite the endearing joking-ness of their relationship.

Batman stood still for a moment, his expression unreadable. "The team's never seen me as Batman before," he admitted. "Every time I've come in the past, I'm Nightwing."

Robin frowned. He hadn't met the team before aside from various members with his excursions with Grayson-as-Nightwing. He enjoyed the Martian the least— she was chatty and had the personality of a rainbow rabbit. Artemis, the Atlantean, and the Clone he could handle. West was bearable only because he had learned when to shut up. And that was only the original team. He hadn't even met Blue Beetle or the shapeshifter.

"You're worried? Being Batman is an honor," Robin said, but he knew the words were hollow. Being Batman was different to Damian than it was to Grayson and Damian wasn't even sure how he felt about it anymore anyway.

"Maybe," Batman replied. "Your turn?"

Robin hummed. "Mm, maybe not!" He swung past Batman and straight into the opening for the portal.

He materialized just as the computer called his name. Before him was the frozen faces of various members of the team. The Martian and the Clone were there, both looking a little surprised but not unfamiliar with Damian altogether.

Recognized Batman B-01

Immediately the team jumped up, standing frozen as they watched the man who they thought was probably the original Batman enter their field of view. Connor and M'gann glanced at each other and frowned.

"Batman," M'gann said, stepping forward, "you're back. We… didn't realize. I thought Nightwing was supposed…" her voice trailed off as Grayson glared at her. He had to maintain Bruce's dignity at least and currently he was Batman, no cheery grin and laugh would suffice.

"I'm introducing him to the team," Batman said, his voice low. Connor cocked his head to the side and frowned, no doubt hearing a slightly different voice under the cowl. Batman turned to where the team was standing.

Blue Beetle, Kid Flash, Wondergirl, Beast Boy, Raven, Bumblebee, and Cyborg. Only Blue Beetle and Kid Flash looked vaguely uninterested in Batman, the novelty having rubbed off. No doubt they'd think the same if they knew it was Nightwing, really, beneath the cowl. Wondergirl, Donna, was staring at Robin with rapt attention, memorizing his every detail and likely sizing him up for a fight. Raven leaned around the girl with a frown, her cloak drawn up over her face.

"Whoa, is that the new Robin?" Beast Boy exclaimed, turning briefly into a bird and flapping over to land on Damian's shoulder. Robin scowled and brushed the boy off.

"Don't touch me," he snapped.

Beast boy squawked and landed on the ground in his human form in a heap. "Hey!"

"Yes, Beast Boy," Batman replied, only raising an eyebrow behind the cowl. "He'll be joining the team. Just as Red Robin did when he was Robin. Where is he?" He turned to M'gann and Connor. The Martian jumped a little.

"Oh, he's in the training room?"

Robin's eyes widened. "You can't expect me to work with—!"

"No names," Batman said sharply. Grayson was clearly upset by Damian's deflection from earlier and Damian could hear it in Batman's voice, even if the other's couldn't. Robin leveled his glare at the team. Wondergirl crossed her arms and stuck her tongue out at him.

Robin ignored her and turned back to Batman. "Batman!" he exclaimed, his voice rising.

"Deal with it," Batman snapped. Robin blinked, jumping a little. Grayson was madder than he thought. "Robin will begin training with you this week. I expect everyone to get along… professionally."

"We can do professional," Cyborg said, a little laugh to his voice despite his clear attempts to remain calm. The team all nodded, only Beast Boy grumbling from his spot on the floor.

"Good, I expect nothing less," Batman said, placing a hand on Robin's shoulder. Damian looked over at the glove and up at his mentor. It was a truce, for the time being. His shoulder sagged and he turned back to the team. They looked a little apprehensive. Robin wanted to be here less than they did.

Batman turned back to Robin. "I need to speak to Miss Martian and Superboy. Can you stay here and not kill anyone?"

"No promises."

"Good enough," Batman said. He gestured for the two oldest members to follow him and disappeared down the hallway. They walked silently to the library until they were standing there waiting for Batman to speak. He didn't say anything, only standing there with his arms crossed.

"Um," Miss Martian started, "Batman, um, do you really think this Robin is really ready to work on a team? I know he's struggled with… restraint in the past."

Batman remained silent for a moment before his shoulder's sagged and he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. When he spoke, the growl from his voice was gone. "He is. He's come really far, M'gann."

Both the alien's eyes widened.

"Nightwing?" Connor breathed. "But, I thought—."

"B is busy with Batman Inc. Gotham needs a Batman. I've been acting-Batman for the past year. When I've come to the cave, I've been Nightwing. But that's only because our identity's need to remain separate. Gotham, or the team, can't know that Nightwing is Batman right now. It'd throw everything into an uproar."

M'gann nodded, sitting down into one of the green couches and curling her knees up. "That's why you didn't act any different in front of the team. Batman needs to be Batman…"

"And Nightwing needs to be Nightwing," the man finished. He turned to Connor too. "Sorry for not saying anything."

"It's alright," Connor said, "you're right. So, Robin."

Dick slipped off the cowl and sighed. He slid down into one of the seats across from M'gann. The Martian smiled at him and Connor gave an encouraging nod. Dick had grown close to both of them since he'd led the team almost seven years ago. He'd stepped down and taken a leave of absence and had since rescinded his leadership to have a more training-mentor type thing with the teens.

"I think I made him mad," Dick said with a wince. "And I don't know what I said."

Connor leaned on the couch and crossed his arms. "You don't usually make him mad, right? Like, he acts like it but he isn't usually actually angry?"

Dick ran a gloved hand through his hair. "I don't know. I just don't get him. Like sometimes he seems happy and… well as happy as he lets me think he is. And then… I mention or say something about, I guess." Dick paused, his eyes wide and then he squeezed his face and let out a long sigh. "Oh. Oh my god, I'm a terrible detective."

M'gann blinked and then she and Connor both said, "What?" at the same time.

"Oh my god. Every time I mention him going back to B," Dick whispered. "He gets really upset. I didn't think anything of it. I just thought it was him being upset about it not having been done yet."

"Why wouldn't he want to go back to, uh, his dad?" M'gann asked, pausing a moment to look at Connor. The clone shrugged and turned back to Dick. He had a frown on his face. He cocked his head as if to listen to something far away.

"I… I don't know. I just want to the kid I be happy and be with… with B. I had eight years, guys. Eight years with my dad. I just want to get as much time as he can," Dick said slowly.

"Dick, think about how lucky he is for a minute?" Connor asked. "Just a minute."

Dick paused. "I'm not sure if I'm following."

"You just want him to be happy," Connor said, "You love him a lot."

M'gann nodded. "Dick, you want him to be happy. He's… like your son."

Dick looked away, brow furrowed. "He's not. I'm not his father."

"You want to be."

"It doesn't matter. That's not the point," Dick whispered.

"Yes it is!" Connor insisted. "Yes it is! You love him so much that you want him to be happy! You want to be with him. This kid… Damian, you want to be there for him. Your proud of him, you're happy for him. You cannot imagine… how much I would've wanted someone like that ten years ago."

Dick didn't say anything. He only leaned further in the chair. He sighed after a moment, running a hand over his face. "That kid deserves so much."

M'gann leaned forward and reached for Dick's shoulder. "You can give it to him."

Dick smiled hollowly. "This is uncharacteristic for you two. Usually I'm better about no personal stuff at the cave. Especially in this," he said, gesturing to the Batman costume.

"You usually don't snap at him like that," Connor said. "And I could tell you weren't the, uh, Big Guy from your voice. Just like a little inflection that normally isn't there."

"Yeah and yeah. Kid needs to not flip his attitude 180 degrees every time I say something that mildly inconveniences him too," Dick said, grinning a little.

"Well this is a little more than that," M'gann said, smiling back. "But probably not."

"True, and you'd think," Dick laughed. "I'll figure it out eventually. I'm not sure where I stand with him," he said honestly. "I'll work on it. Maybe I should come to you guys more often with this parenting stuff." He paused a little at his wording and shook his head, standing up and pulling the cowl on.

He cleared his throat. "Thank you," he said in Batman's voice before he swept past them.

Connor looked at M'gann, one eyebrow raised. "Think it'll be alright?"

M'gann looked out where Batman had disappeared. She sat in thought for a moment before she smiled. "Yeah, it'll be alright."

To be continued…