Batfam Bingo 2019
Square: Birthday (rough draft)
A Batman fanfic by Raberba girl
Inspired by breezy-cheezy (Medli45)
Summary: Damian angsts over his birthday gift to Dick.
A/N: The "Birthday" prompt is not actually on my own bingo card, I found it on someone else's, then Breezy got her card and it was on hers, too. XD In any case, I'm writing this for the Batfam Bingo 2019 event even though it doesn't count toward my current card.
I'm ignoring mansion floorplans for the sake of storytelling convenience; let's just pretend the whole family has bedrooms on the same side of the house.
o.o.o
Birthdays were significant events in America.
And not in a 'We will battle every year on your birthday, and the year you beat me is the year you meet your father' sort of way. They were significant in that the subject was spoiled and pampered as a reward for continuing to breathe 365 days after their previous birth anniversary. It was all ridiculous and nonsensical, but then, so was Grayson.
And it was Grayson's birthday.
It was Grayson's birthday and Damian had no idea how to spoil and pamper him properly.
Last year, Grayson had been Batman and Damian hadn't even known it was his birthday until Pennyworth brought out a cake and a small wrapped gift during lunch. Grayson had lit up, thanked the butler, made a wholly unnecessary happy fuss over the cake and gift, and then, in a strange reversal, started crying in the changing room before patrol when he thought he was alone. Damian hadn't known what to say, so he had silently retreated in favor of checking over his utility belt, and the incident had been forgotten.
This year, the family was much bigger - Father was back, Drake and even Todd were reconciling with the family, Cain had returned to America, and everyone, including Gordon and even Brown, was spending the weekend at the manor. Decorations were already going up, and Grayson was teasing his siblings as they worked to keep their gifts a secret from him until the actual party when he was allowed to open them. Todd and Brown were making bets with each other about how much or little Grayson would like everyone's gifts. Damian had overheard Father and Drake having a rueful conversation about how difficult Grayson was to shop for.
Damian himself was...concerned. Because descendants of the Batman and the Demon's Head did not panic, so he was concerned.
If even Father had trouble procuring a suitable gift for his beloved eldest child, how did Damian, who barely even knew how American birthdays were traditionally celebrated, have a hope of finding something to give to Grayson that wouldn't disappoint him and shame Damian with the failure?
"It doesn't have to be a tangible gift, you know," Gordon told him, cutting right to the heart of his question even though Damian had been very careful to ask her without sounding like he was asking anything. "In fact, Dick in particular cares more about the heart of the gift than the present itself, so intangible gifts have a better chance of making him genuinely happy than things you can buy."
Damian had no idea what an 'intangible gift' could even be. "Hmph. Of course a whimsical person like him would enjoy a gift with no substance."
She smiled. "He wants sentimental substance. Like taking him to a Haly's performance, or granting him a favor you never would under ordinary circumstances. I bet he'd love it if you hugged him voluntarily, without grumbling or struggling. A nice long, cuddly hug. Bonus points if it's in public."
Damian was horrified. He felt sick. "As if I would ever embrace Grayson where Father could see, or Drake! It is unseemly!"
"But Dick would love it," she pointed out, which, damn it, was true. "That's what would make it a gift. That you'd sacrifice your own dignity, or whatever inhibitions you have about it, and do something just for him, that he would really enjoy, for his sake, because you love him."
"Of all the ridiculous-! I should have known better than to ask a woman!" Damian stormed away, feeling concern concern concern roiling in his chest and making it hard to breathe. Even...even if he wanted to hug Grayson in front of the family...he couldn't. He just couldn't, it- It was wrong, Gordon was wrong, Grayson was a wrong, stupid idiot, why couldn't he be satisfied with a purchased gift so Damian could just be done with it...?!
o.o.o.o.o
Damian typed "intangible gift ideas" into a search engine on a secure computer, so that Father or Drake couldn't hack it and see what he'd been looking up.
Homecooked meal, was one of the suggestions. Damian didn't know how to cook anything other than for sheer survival, but maybe if he asked Pennyworth for assistance...? Pennyworth wouldn't betray his confidence, surely?
...Foolishness. Pennyworth was Father's employer and had been loyal to Grayson far longer than he'd been loyal to Damian. He was not safe to entrust this secret with.
Tickets to an event the recipient is looking forward to. Grayson already dragged Damian to many of those, so doing so didn't seem special enough to qualify as a gift.
Cleaning and tidying. Out of the question. Damian was a prince, not a servant.
Skill or expertise. ...Most of Damian's skills were of a sort that was not approved of in this house, but killing efficiently wasn't the only thing he knew how to do. For example, he could play the violin quite well. That was a non-lethal talent, or at least it could be. It usually was. It was when practiced as originally intended (Damian had never actually killed anyone with a violin bow or a piece of a violin, even though he knew how). Yes, he could...he could play a song for Grayson on the violin (in private, of course). That would be sufficient as a gift, correct?
"I think he would like that very much," Father assured him when Damian worked up the courage to ask. Damian wasn't sure why Father's expression was so soft and affectionate, it was a simple question. Damian now had a new problem, and that was figuring out which piece to play for Grayson.
His first inclination was to play something that would be the greatest demonstration of his skill, but he overheard an exchange between Cain and Drake that reminded him that the gift was supposed to be for Grayson. Sentimental substance, Gordon had said, and since Grayson seemed to have no real appreciation for classical music, it would probably be meaningless, worthless, if Damian played any of the masterpieces he had been trained in.
Perhaps one of those excruciatingly awful 'pop' songs Grayson was so enamored of?
Damian went back to the Internet, and, after shutting himself in a soundproof cell in the Batcave (with the wall turned opaque and the security system set to let him out on command), started struggling through a tutorial for a violin cover of "Shake It Off." He finally paused the video and nearly threw the violin down in disgust. It was just too awful, he couldn't stand playing this rubbish. "Why must you have such AWFUL TASTE, GRAYSON?!"
Frustrated, he went up to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea, then wandered into the living room as he drank it.
His so-called 'siblings' were all draped around the living room, watching TV like the mindless wastes of time they all tended to be during the day. Well, Todd was curled up in an armchair with a book, and Gordon and Drake were idly working on their tablets, but they were splitting their focus, and Grayson and the younger women weren't even making a pretense of not being useless.
Grayson held out his arms without bothering to move from his lounging position on the floor. "Damiiiii! Come cuddle with me!"
"Absolutely not, Grayson," Damian snapped, his gift-related frustration spilling over into general anger at his oldest brother. He sat in a proper, straight-backed chair and stormily continued drinking his tea.
"Damian doesn't love me," Grayson pouted, like an imbecile, as if Damian hadn't just spent so many hours agonizing over a gift solely for his sake.
"Damian doesn't love anyone," Drake said flatly.
"Quiet," Cain ordered, looking at both of them and then at Damian. "Dick's weekend. No hurting."
"I didn't even touch anyone!" Damian protested.
"You think words can't hurt?" Brown said indignantly.
"Explains a lot," Todd remarked, lazily turning a page.
"Quiet," Cain said again, and everyone reluctantly settled down.
Damian recognized the cartoon on the screen, though he had no interest in it. It was a pastel-colored show about superheroes and jewels, featuring an incompetent boy who was inexplicably coddled by the warriors who had taken guardianship of him. Grayson quite liked it; Damian didn't hate it (it was far better than the thrice-damned friendship ponies, in any case).
Damian let his thoughts drift as the episode played on. Should he keep looking for a song for Grayson, maybe more rock than pop, or should he just give up the violin idea altogether? Maybe he shouldn't even give Grayson a gift at all. Everyone in this household thought the worst of him, anyway; Grayson thought Damian didn't care about him, no one would even be surprised if Damian didn't bother to get a gift for his brother's birthday. No one would care. It wasn't even worth it. Birthdays were stupid, American culture was stupid, and Damian just wanted to go on patrol but it was still hours until sundown. And he'd finished all the tea in his cup. He hated his life.
"[*censored because FFN is stupid*]"
Damian stiffened, caught off-guard by how close to home the words hit, sung in that gentle voice. He stared at the screen, which was now showing scrolling credits with that soft song playing in the background. No one else was paying attention; Gordon, Todd, and Drake were absorbed in their tablets and book, Grayson and Brown were having a 'thumb war,' and Cain was watching them with a grin.
"[*censored because FFN is stupid*]"
Damian swallowed and paid close attention to the credits until, near the end, the song's title appeared. He quickly memorized it, then left the room to look it up in detail.
o.o.o.o.o
Learning how to play the song from memory in about a day wasn't difficult, Damian had spent his childhood violin lessons learning to play much longer and more complicated pieces in similarly short periods of time.
The difficult part was trying to figure out how to deliver Grayson's gift, because there was no way in hell Damian was going to play the violin in front of any of his other siblings. Perhaps he could pull Grayson aside...down into that soundproof cell in the cave...play the song for him, and be done with it.
Except he never even had a chance to get Grayson alone to ask. The day of the man's birthday, party guests started showing up at eight in the morning, before any of the manor's inhabitants were even awake. The security system recognized and admitted them, and Damian found several speedsters and an alien hanging out in the kitchen when he came down for breakfast.
That was simply the prelude. The mansion continued to fill with more and more people throughout the day, until it was so loud and crowded that Damian had no peace unless he locked himself in his room or escaped to the woods beyond the gardens. The day passed in a whirl of stress and chaos, then the actual party started in the late afternoon and Damian had to retreat to his room again.
Pennyworth eventually ordered him down. Damian huddled miserably by the pool as Grayson sat at the picnic table, beaming, a child's paper party hat on his head and a lavish cake aglow with candles in front of him. The singing of that horribly uncreative American birthday song from what sounded like a thousand throats was probably loud enough to be heard in the city.
Everyone cheered, firecrackers and other obnoxious sounds were produced, then Pennyworth and Father started slicing into the cake and handing out pieces with ice cream on plates as Grayson began opening gifts.
He started with the ones from his family, simply because there were so many from his friends. Everyone cheered and cooed at the various offerings: a teddy bear that was apparently an in-joke, useful new equipment, vital information on a tricky case Nightwing had been working, and so on.
Then, "What about Damian's present?" someone called out, and then a half-laughing chorus of "Where's Damian's?"
"Where is Damian?" someone wondered. Someone else pointed, and then, to Damian's consternation, almost all of the considerable number of guests turned to look at him.
"Dami!" Grayson cried, sounding amused but looking concerned, "What are you doing all the way over there?"
"Birthday parties are a ridiculous waste of time!" Damian shouted back, panicki- Feeling deep concern. "We should be getting ready for patrol!"
"We're going on patrol later," Brown said, "just not right this second."
"Dami, come on over here, buddy," Grayson said, standing up and taking a few steps.
Starfire beat him to it, soaring across the pool and scooping Damian into her arms before he realized her intent. "Unhand me, alien!" He struggled, but she took no notice as she sailed back to the party table and deposited Damian on his feet. He growled at her.
"Should have dropped him in the pool," someone remarked, and everyone laughed. Damian's hands itched for his katana.
"Seriously, though, where's your present?" Drake asked, hunting through the discarded wrapping paper as if everyone had somehow missed an extra box in the pile that had been carefully kept separate from the other guests' presents.
"There is none! I didn't get you anything, Grayson," Damian snarled, "because birthdays are a pointless waste of time. Hurry and open the rest so we can put an end to this exercise in frivolity and get to work."
There was a titter of indignation from the crowd, but Damian didn't care about them. It was Grayson's sad, slightly hurt look that felt like a punch to the gut. "In a minute, Dami," he said quietly, reaching out for one of those hair ruffles he was so fond of.
Damian jerked away before Grayson's fingers could make contact. However, he didn't resist when Father's hands came down on his shoulders and tugged him back. "Calm down," Father murmured in his ear, and Damian clenched his teeth together.
Grayson was back to his usual grin, this time looking at his friends. "It's okay, it's okay," he was saying, soothing feathers ruffled on his behalf, "I wasn't expecting anything, anyway." Damian's chest tightened, even though he had no idea why such a reasonable comment hurt. "The best present my favorite ninja assassin baby can give me is his presence."
There was a chorus of groans. "That was so bad-"
"-wasn't even original, Dick, come on!"
Everyone was soon distracted by the rest of the gift opening. Damian wrenched free of his father's grasp and stomped all the way across the yard and up to his room. He slammed the door shut and locked it, stuffed earbuds into his ears, made Titus get off the quilt so he could fold it back, then called his dog back onto the bed. He laid the quilt back over them both and nestled down, wrapping himself around Titus and squeezing his eyes shut as he hid his face against the dog's fur. He concentrated hard on the music in his ears and willed the tears not to fall.
o.o.o.o.o
Patrol, once they FINALLY started it, was a relief, though quite annoying when Father kept scolding him for being too rough on the criminals. "He was going to stab him, Father!"
"I know you know how to disarm a man without injuring three of his limbs, Damian."
The scolding was endless, and came from multiple people, and when Drake made a critical remark about his latest tactical move, Damian couldn't stand it anymore. He flung the comm out of his ear and grappled away alone. Fleeing fast and smart enough to finally lose Father was a good distraction.
He tried to continue patrolling alone, but things had gone quiet now that the criminals knew the Bats were so active. Damian tired of soaring quietly from building to building, and made his way over to the zoo.
It was Grayson who eventually found him hugging his knees on a bench as he watched the elephants sleep.
"Hey, bud," the man murmured, sitting down beside him.
"I hate birthdays," Damian mumbled into his knees.
Grayson put an arm around him and leaned his head on Damian's. "Too many people today, huh. Sorry."
Damian's gloved fingers tightened. "They weren't there for me, they were there for you. My feelings on the matter are irrelevant."
Grayson turned his head to kiss his hair before resettling. "They're relevant to me. Next year, I'll try to think of a compromise."
"...Nightwing?"
"Hm?"
"Was...was that true? When you said the best gift I could give you was simply my presence?" That didn't make sense.
Grayson chuckled. "Well, not the best gift. But honestly, Damian, it just makes me happy to be with you. I got plenty of presents today, and even if I hadn't gotten any at all, it was the best thing in the world to see almost everyone I love all gathered together. It's okay if you have something against birthdays and presents. It was enough that you came to my party for a while, okay? So don't worry about it."
"You are...a sentimental fool, Nightwing," Damian said heavily, because he didn't know how to say what he was actually feeling, how to even articulate it.
"And you are a precious, adorable baby."
"I am not a child, Nightwing, why must you insist on infantilizing me?!"
Grayson eventually coaxed him home, where they showered and changed and completed their reports in companionable familiarity. They went up to their rooms, and Damian pulled out his tablet and accessed the tracker program. Pennyworth was home, of course, as were Brown and Drake, unfortunately. Damian occupied himself as he waited, keeping an eye on the Bats' trackers.
The rest trickled home, singly or in pairs. Once everyone had finally retired for the night, Damian took a deep breath. This was his chance. Everyone would be in bed, no one would be awake to hear. Grayson might be satisfied with Damian's mere presence, but Damian had prepared a gift for his birthday, and it wasn't right to withhold it just because Grayson had made excuses for him.
In the hallway, Damian's hand froze before it reached the knob. He... All he had to do was simply enter, take out the violin, and start playing. If Grayson was already asleep, surely he would wake up at the sound of live music right there in his bedroom. He would sit up and...and listen, and...look at Damian playing for him...
Damian grimaced and pulled his hand back. He couldn't stand even just imagining the expression on Grayson's face. The surprise, like he never expected his imperfect little brother to be capable of such a thing; happiness, certainly, but it just...it wasn't...after he had told Damian he was not bothered by the lack of a gift, it would seem like Damian had done this as an afterthought, a poor substitute, because he'd been too cowardly to present it at the proper time...
Damian fled back to his room and buried himself in his bed, hating himself. He wanted to fall asleep with that hatred, punish himself with it because he had failed Grayson on his stupidly important American birthday.
An hour later, Damian was still awake, because he couldn't fall asleep. Nothing he tried worked, all he kept thinking about were violins and disappointed brothers and people hating him so much they'd laugh at him being subjected to the indignity of being dropped in a pool. They all knew he wasn't a fit brother for their precious Grayson. They knew Damian had hurt him, and they wanted to punish him for it, and only Grayson's generous heart had eased their censure.
It wasn't that Father's ragtag orphans weren't worth the Wayne name, it was that Damian wasn't worth being related to the best one of them, he couldn't even do something as simple as play a ridiculously easy song for the man who'd sheltered, taught, and loved him, he couldn't- Well, he could, he was going to. He got out of bed and grabbed the violin. If he was too cowardly to play it to Grayson's face, he'd find a different way to play. The balcony. He could stand on the damn balcony and play the damn song and then the damn gift would be done.
Damian rigged a sling for the violin case so he could carry it on his back while he climbed to his oldest brother's balcony. He set the violin case down on the stone floor and took out the instrument, tuned it. Couldn't stand the thought of facing the window, imagining the curtains suddenly ripping open as he played and Grayson staring out at him, shocked that his stupid, helpless, cowardly, infant 'ninja assassin brother' actually had the guts to play a song from a children's cartoon.
So Damian turned away, facing the vast greenery of the Wayne grounds and the quiet sky, and he fitted the violin under his chin. And he started to play.
"[*censored because FFN is stupid*]"
The last notes died away. Damian slowly lowered the instrument, then just stood there, feeling like a fool. He'd just played to no one. Grayson had long ago fallen asleep, and exhausted after a patrol, when the violin music was outside, behind a layer of reinforced glass and muffling curtains, he probably hadn't even stirred.
But Damian had done it, he had played a song with sentimental value to his brother, so even though Grayson likely hadn't heard it, the gift had been given. It was done. It-
Arms wrapped around his waist, lifting him slightly off his feet, and a face pressed against his hair. "Oh, Dami, that was so beautiful. I loved it. Thank you."
Damian had no idea why his brother was crying when he sounded so sincere, or why tears sprang to his own eyes.
o.o.o.o.o
Dick woke up in alarm when he heard weird sounds, like there was an injured animal outside his window. How would an injured animal get up to a second floor balcony, though? Was it a bat? Did injured bats sound like that?
Then the music started, and Dick realized that what he had heard before were the sounds of a violin being tuned. His eyes widened as he got out of bed. Someone was playing the violin on his balcony. And...he knew that tune. The lyrics sprang automatically to his mind.
"[*censored because FFN is stupid*]"
Someone was playing a violin cover of the Steven Universe ending theme on his balcony. Dick only knew one person who played the violin this well, but there was no way that person would waste his skill on a cartoon theme song.
At five in the morning. The day after Dick's birthday.
'Oh my God.' Breathless, Dick peeked through the curtains. His knees went a little weak and he wanted to cry with overjoyed shock when his guess was confirmed. 'Oh my God, precious baby Dami is playing Steven Universe. FOR ME.'
Best birthday present ever.
Dick, not wanting to scare him off, soundlessly opened the sliding door and stepped outside so he could listen better. The music was perfectly clear in the open air, and tears slid down Dick's face at the sheer beauty of the sounds flowing from his baby brother's fingers.
"[*censored because FFN is stupid*]"
'Damiiiiiiii!'
Dick waited breathlessly until the song ended. Damian held his pose for a moment, then slowly lowered the instrument and stared out at the grounds, his shoulders slumped as if in defeat.
Dick wrapped his arms around his littlest brother and hugged him tight. "Oh, Dami, that was so beautiful," he whispered.
"A five-year-old child could play a song that simple," Damian complained, squirming, but in the halfhearted way that meant he didn't mind the cuddling and only had to protest for dignity's sake. "How...how much did you hear?"
"All of it~ You're so gooood," Dick crooned, rocking him from side to side in emphasis.
Damian's response was interrupted by Tim's voice asking from his own balcony, "Is that it, or is there more?"
Damian stiffened in Dick's arms.
"Way to go, brat!" Jason shouted cheerfully from a different balcony.
Applause, a whoop, and a "Nice job, Wayne," was the feedback from the direction of Cassandra's room, where Barbara and Stephanie were also staying the night.
"That was very nice, Damian," Bruce called from his own balcony, and "Quite splendid," Alfred commented from his.
Damian was squirming in earnest now. "That was a PRIVATE PERFORMANCE!" he shouted. "You're all supposed to be asleep!"
"You play loud," Tim pointed out.
"It's called projection! All of you GO TO BED! LEAVE ME ALONE!"
"This morning still counts as my birthday," Dick called, "so stop torturing the baby, okay, guys?"
"For the last time, I AM NOT AN INFANT, GRAYSON!"