A/N: Bit of a time jump with this one, in fact an eleven year time jump. So, Dick is 21, Jason is 18, Tim is 15, and Damian is 10 (no one knows how old Bruce is anymore but I'm gonna say 38 here).
Reviews: Once again, you guys are awesome/amazing/insert-complimentary-adjective-here! Seriously, I so happy that people are enjoying the product of my end-of-semester stress relief. On that note, thank you to the reviewers who made suggestions about what they would like to see. I am taking the one about Dick's first week at school and that should be posted sometime in the next few updates (depending on how it goes, I've never actually written a school scene before).
A/N2: I don't want people to be confused here; this is the same Dick from the first three chapters. He still has all the issues and history as before, but he's also had 11 more years to heal and deal with everything. So, he is going to look pretty different than the last three chapters, but don't worry you'll still see his progression in later chapters.
IMPORTANT A/N: After Dick's speech in this chapter is translated in (). Normally I'm not going to be doing this, but since this is from Damian's POV and he doesn't understand Dick's sign language there need to be translations for the reader.
Chapter Order: How We Were (Ch 2 and 3), When We Were (Ch 1), Question Words (Ch 4)
Warnings: prejudiced talk (Damian is a little shit)
Chapter 4: Question Words
When Damian Al Ghul, soon to be Wayne, meet Dick Grayson for the first time he was decidedly not impressed. The man was shorter than his father by a good five inches and everything about him screamed 'ne'er-do-well'. His hair was far too unkempt, sweeping about his head in the breeze, his grin was too loose and his eyes were too bright. He looked incredibly wrong and incredibly right standing at Batman's side and Damian hated it. Who was this Nightwing to stand where he himself should? Damian privately thought, and not so privately declared, that he could not believe his father was associating with such trash. He might have thrown in a few choice phrases about Grayson's heritage and upbringing. It was then that he got his first glimpse that something might be not as it seemed. Something had glinted in Grayson's eyes and was reflected in his father's, something feral and dangerous. Damian felt a flash of fear that was gone before he could properly analyze it. He elected not to continue speaking on the subject, at least for the moment.
His opinion did not change when he learned that Grayson could not even speak properly. He called Damian 'Pup' and when he spoke it was all a tangled mess. His hands were constantly flashing about along with the words. Damian wished the other man would just be still for one minute, but that seemed to be impossible. He was constantly moving, pacing back and forth as he ranted incoherently. Occasionally he would pause and peer at Damian, the same something the young Wayne could not recognize from their first meeting flashing though his eyes. It would freeze Damian in his tracks, caught in the crystal blue gaze, until Grayson looked away and Damian was allowed to continue whatever he was doing.
Worst of all, it seemed his father perfectly understood the garbled mess of his first ward's speech. Grayson would chatter and flash his hands and Father would watch attentively and then respond in kind, though his words were precise and logical. It was infuriating to say the least…
It was not until Drake showed up for the first time that Damian thought that there might be more to Grayson than a simpleton his father had taken in and trained to fight crime.
"Pral!" Grayson had all but shouted. He scampered (scampered! What adult male did that?!) from the top of the stairs where he had been standing, down the long banister before flipping off the end and landing before Drake. He paused, looking the younger teen up and down, before gathering him up in his arms in a tight hug. Damian scoffed at the display of physical affection. When he finally released the other boy Grayson grabbed his hand and led him over to where Damian stood.
"Pral, this breathes Pup. He breathes cat Kham." He gestured a few times and for the first time Damian realized that he was using a sign language. It was not one that Damian was familiar with, despite having a basic knowledge of ASL, Signed English, and Arabic Sign Language. He frowned deeply as Drake flashed two quick hand symbols at Grayson. Obviously Father, Grayson, and Drake all knew the language. Perhaps it was invented to communicate as Batman and his partners? More investigation would be required…. (Tim, this is Damian. He is Bruce's son.)
Drake finally turned his full attention to Damian, "Hi, I'm Tim. Dick says you're called 'Pup'?"
Damian glared at the two of them. Drake was grinning and Dick was rolling his eyes with a groan.
"Madly?" Dick asked with raised eyebrows. (Really?)
Drake laughed, "Yep, at least it's cute. You're lucky kid, you should hear what Clark got saddled with-"
"I do not have time for this inane prattle." Damian hissed. If they weren't going to bother to show him the proper respect, or even to call him by the correct name, then he was not going to waste any more time on them than he already had. He stalked away. Grayson had already begun chattering again as he left.
Later that same evening Damian found himself in the library. This time of year the fireplace was always roaring and it was one of the few rooms in the manor where Damian felt like he could actually be warm. He missed the heat of the desert, the way it curled around his bones and lulled him into relaxation, even in the dangerous halls of Ra's al Ghul. But, when he pushed the chair close and held a book written in his native tongue, he felt almost like the manor could maybe be his home one day.
He had been reading for nearly an hour when the door creaked open. He resisted the urge to crane his head around the edge of the chair to see who had entered. He didn't recognize the steps; too heavy to be Grayson who always walked like he was trying to take flight, not precise enough to be Pennyworth, nor strong enough to be his father whose steps were as strong as he was. Damian rolled his eyes, of course Drake would choose to bother him.
"I request that you take your leave immediately," he tried, knowing it would be in vain. If Drake was anything like the other residents of Wayne Manor he would be unbearably stubborn.
"Not happening," Drake's voice was terse and Damian shut his book. "We need to talk."
"What in the world might you and I have to discuss?"
Drake settled into the chair opposite Damian. He immediately pulled off his jacket in the face of the heat from the flames.
"What are you reading?" Damian huffed out an annoyed breath.
"Why are you here?"
Drake sighed heavily, "Fine, to business then." He eyed Damian carefully, "Has anyone explained to you exactly what's going on with Dick?"
"I assumed he was a simpleton."
That drew a quiet snarl from Drake and Damian suddenly found himself more invested in the conversation. For all that he had very little respect for Drake as a person, he respected his father's choices. If Batman said that Tim Drake was a worthy successor to the late Jason Todd then Damian supposed he trusted that choice. It was not a situation that would be allowed to continue for very long. Damian was clearly the superior partner, his father only needed the time to see that and Damian would supplant Drake.
"You will NOT say anything of that nature in front of him," Drake managed through gritted teeth, "Dick has survived more than you could ever comprehend. He deals with talk like that every damn time we have to go out in public and he doesn't need to hear it at home too."
"What's wrong with him?" Damian could not help his curiosity. It had gotten him in trouble many times back when he lived in the compound.
"Nothing," Drake snapped. He sighed and continued more calmly, "Look this really isn't my business to be telling you, but you obviously aren't going to learn how to understand him without knowing… He has very severe aphasia, mostly affecting his spoken language."
"Aphasia," Damian tried the word out, unwilling to admit that he did not know what it meant in English.
"It means that his brain can't find the right words. What he says makes perfect sense to him and he always uses the same wrong words. So, if you've spend enough time around him you learn some of the words. If you want, I have all kinds of research on his exact sort."
Damian nodded. He supposed a medical condition was a legitimate reason to be so inept when communicating. Without thinking he asked, "What the hell are his hands doing? It is not a standard language."
The terse smile Drake shot at him told Damian that he had been far too obvious in his interest. He scowled.
"He was injured when he was still with Them," Damian's scowl deepened. He did not know who 'them' was supposed to be. "They didn't care. They didn't want him to talk anyway, but Dick knew that something was wrong. So he made signs up for himself. He knows ASL and Signed English and uses those in public but when he's home he uses his signs and ASL together."
Damian suddenly felt very small and very petty, though he did not want Drake to know it.
"I will-," he paused, considering his next words, "attempt to be kinder to Grayson on the matter of his speech."
The smile Drake shot at him was radiant. "That's all we ask, kiddo."
Damian nodded, "Now, please, leave me. I wish to read in silence."
Drake left without another word.
Damian did not read any more that evening. Instead he stared into the fire and wondered when everything became so complicated. He was just supposed to go to Gotham and take his place at his father's side. Now, he was struggling with sudden feelings of not-scorn for the various members of his father's family. It was, discomforting, to say the least.
A/N: It is not typical for people to sign as they speak. Since both are natural language and ASL and English have vastly different grammatical structures it is incredibly difficult to process them at the same time. This is why ASL-English interpreters have to go through so much training. They are translating two pretty much unrelated languages in real time and it requires a helluva lot of processing power/practice. Dick is able to do this because he typically doesn't think about what he is saying verbally (he knows pretty much no one can understand him anyway) so most of his processing is going to the signing not the speech.
