A/N: I think I'll be updating every other day for now. It just gives me a little extra time, since some days I don't have as much time as I'd like to work on this. On another note, Batman and Robin #12 comes out this week! It will probably totally invalidate my ideas in this fanfiction (assuming Damian will be fighting Dick this issue, since I've heard it's the last one in the War of the Robins arc), but I'm really looking forward to it! In the meantime, I hope you like this new chapter. Please review if you can; I appreciate every single one I receive and they always motivate me to continue writing!


Damian is determined to attack Grayson soon, but he hasn't been able to decide on a plan of action. There's no shortage of ideas; working with Grayson gave him plenty of knowledge in regards to the man's weaknesses. The problem lies in the execution of these ideas. He just can't imagine himself actually doing these kinds of things to Grayson.

He tells himself he hates him, but he doesn't want to think about what Grayson's response will be.

He tells himself he doesn't care, but he just doesn't want to do it anymore.

It's a constant struggle between how he was raised and how he's changed.

The logical, assassin-trained part of his mind tells him he's weak.

It's Grayson.

Weakness means death.

I don't know what to do.

You do not deserve to live if you cannot control yourself.

Why did Grayson even have to leave? Things wouldn't be like this if he'd kept his word. He would still be Batman, still be flying over Gotham every night, still be working and training, still be slinging around stupid jokes, still be here…with me.

"I can't do this," he whispers to himself.

If you can't do something as simple as this, you bring shame to your family's name.

"Shut up. I'm Robin now."

You think you can be one of them? With your skills and background? They won't trust an assassin. Isn't that obvious by now?

"Stop it. They're not..."

They're naïve. Like children. You think crime can be defeated without spilling some blood along the way? It's not possible. Their task is futile.

"But..."

You could be so much better if you left them behind. He left you anyway. They don't care.

"No!"

"Damian?"

He jerks his head up and sees his father standing in the doorway.

"Is something wrong?"

He shakes his head quickly.

"Are you sure?" He looks like he wants to move closer and touch his shoulder, but he doesn't.

Damian nods.

"Listen…" he begins. "Dick came by last night, said you weren't looking very good. Is there—"

"I'm fine! It's none of his concern!"

"I might believe you if I hadn't noticed your sleeping patterns, or lack thereof."

"I have been keeping a regular schedule, Father."

"Yes, with less than two hours of sleep every night. That's not healthy."

"You do it."

"I'm older. You're still growing, and it's not good for you. Once in a while it's okay, but you've been doing it for at least a week. You're not as focused or as strong, and that's dangerous in our line of work."

"I understand, Father." I won't compromise our work.

"Damian." His voice is softer now. "I'm here if you need me. At any time."

"I…I know."

"I won't think less of you for needing help."

Damian nods stiffly, fighting the childish urge to tell him everything.

"Okay." He reaches out and touches his son's shoulder briefly before exiting.

I can't. I can't tell him. I'll figure this out on my own. There has to be a way to stop these dreams from happening, and I will find it.


Damian's nights continue to be restless and Bruce knows it. He wanders the halls for an excuse to check in on his son and constantly finds him either lying awake or in a fitful sleep.

After two more nights watching this, he's had enough. Damian hasn't asked for help, but he obviously needs it, obviously something is bothering him. He goes in and sits down next to Damian on the bed, rousing him from his nightmare with a gentle but firm shake.

"Wha…Father?" He pushes himself up into a sitting position.

"Come here." Bruce extends an arm, inviting him into a hug, but Damian doesn't move. "Come," he repeats.

Reluctantly, he inches closer.

Bruce sighs and drags him forward and presses him to his chest. "You're shaking," he murmurs, feeling the quiet tremors in his son's shoulders. It reminds him of the times he would take care of Dick many years ago, except with Dick there was tears and lots of voluntary cuddling. Damian's response to being comforted is decidedly different and much more argumentative.

"I am not."

"Hm." Bruce doesn't argue. "Want to tell me why this is happening?"

Damian is silent.

"Is this about Dick?"

"No!" he says sharply, and then falters. "Maybe."

"What do you need? Do you want me to call him?"

Damian shakes his head quickly.

"What can I do?" He has no idea how to comfort him when he seems so intent on not being comforted. Dick, Jason, and Tim had all been unique cases when it came to things like this, but Damian is a whole other story. I'm still an amateur when it comes to parenting, aren't I?

"Nothing, Father. I will fix this myself."

"You said that before, and it keeps happening. I'm worried about you."

"I can take care of myself."

"I have no doubt." He moves away a little and looks down into Damian's eyes. "You've been trying so hard," he murmurs, "and I'm…I'm proud of you. I hope you know that."

Damian looks away and tries to move out of his arms.

"Damian."

He stops.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Why…?" he asks, before he relents and lets a few more words slip out in a whisper. "He should have stayed."

"I know." Bruce had seen those two working together, and they had been great. Far from perfect, but they had been learning together. Changing their dynamic so suddenly hadn't been good for anyone, and he knows that now. It hurts, knowing he wasn't really who Damian wanted or needed back then. Even now, when they've come this far, he knows Dick will always have a larger place in Damian's life. It seems odd that his sons, so different in personality, had come to mean so much to each other in what seemed such a short time. "I know."

He allows his father to hold him for a little while longer, then declares that he's fine and he'll go back to sleep.

Bruce pretends he believes him and calls Dick anyway.

This has gone on long enough.