Things leave. That had always been the way of the world. Things leave, some more quickly than others, and some so quick that with just a slight turn of the head they're gone.

They're gone, and you didn't even realise it.

One moment your parents are smiling at you, and the next they're falling. And somehow the smiles are the moments you forget. (Not the falling. Because in his dreams, they're always falling.)

Moments like those, moments that you try to keep, most often slip away. And sometimes, with those moments, people slip away too. They slip away so quickly that with just a change of costume they're gone.

They're gone, and he didn't even realise it.

Dick shrugged off his costume, shoulders burning with the events of the night. He had had a nasty run-in with Clayface, in which the shape-shifting sandman had slammed him against a wall, injuring his right shoulder. It wasn't serious, but it hurt like fire. Pain came in all shapes and sizes after all.

Slumping into the couch, he was about to take his mask off when he heard a little scuffling. It wasn't much- he could almost take it for a rat- but years of suspicion and villains and 'accidents' had taught him to double check everything.

Removing his mask silently, he snuck around the corner into the kitchen, where the sound seemed to be emanating from. Pots and pans stacked up in the sink, various scorch marks present from when he had attempted to cook something edible. He mentally made a sticky note to wash his dishes (or maybe get Tim to do that- what, it's an older brother privilege!).

The scuffling grew louder, until Dick realised it was coming from the kitchen window. The sound was followed by the distinctive cursing of a former assassin attempting to break open the latch. By now, Dick was more amused than disturbed. He silently made his way to the window.

"You know," he said, grinning, "I have a door."

Damian's head jerked up suddenly, the look of shock quickly replaced by his usual look of annoyance. "I am well aware of the properties of this apartment, Grayson."

"Yes. That's exactly why you're trying to break in through the window."

Damian huffed. His hair had grown longer since Dick had last seen him (did Bruce ever take him out for a haircut?), framing his round face. He had grown taller, shoulders getting broader too, yet he was still small for his age. His eyes remained the same shade of piercing blue.

He was a spitting image of Bruce, scowl and all.

"Here," Dick smiled, opening the window and offering him a hand. Damian glared at it but took it anyway.

His hand felt... familiar. Dick had missed it.

"So, little D, what brings you here?"

Damian landed on the floor with catlike reflexes. Figures, since he hung out with cats so often. Animals had always been Damian's soft spot.

"I... simply came here to check if you were alive."

Dick raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I'm not alive?"

The younger boy scuffed his feet. Dick had always found it strange, how arrogance had always been his cover for insecurity. All of the batfamily had different ways of dealing with being insecure. Jason got angry. Tim got to work. And Damian... well. He was taught that insecurity was a weakness. It was like a spiral downwards, fear after fear after fear. And in order to hide that, Damian had to pretend to have no weaknesses.

And Bruce. Bruce didn't have to hide anything, did he? Because he's perfect. That's why he gets to judge them. That's why he gets to decide who's good enough to be Robin, and who isn't.

Dick just wasn't good enough.

"You haven't come by in a while. Not that I minded," Damian covered hastily, "but Father would be devastated if you died. I was just doing him a favour."

"Oh. So you didn't miss me?"

"I... don't ask stupid questions, Grayson. Stupidity does not suit you."

"Aw, is that your way of saying I'm smart?"

Damian blushed furiously. Dick had to egg him on like this, because taking Damian's words at face value was never the best idea. He had to show his littlest brother that loving someone wasn't a weakness, that it was a strength. But it was a bit difficult when you lived with someone like Bruce.

He grabbed Damian by the arm and plopped both of them down onto the couch. Automatically, Damian curled into Dick's side.

"...Grayson?"

"Yeah, Dami?"

"...I want you to come home."

The cowl had been the weirdest part.

The cape he hadn't been used to that much, but as Robin he had had plenty of practice. He'd adjusted the armor to suit his aerial style better, so that had been fine too.

But the cowl. It was so... heavy. It didn't even fit him, not really. It was meant for another face.

Damian hadn't been his either. Sure, Dick had loved him, loved him more than anything, but just because you love something doesn't mean it's yours. And Dick had tried to pretend that he was the Batman, that he could fill his shoes, but he couldn't.

Because Dick wasn't good enough. Not good enough for Batman, not good enough for Robin. Not good enough for Damian.

But he had tried, damn it, he did. Why didn't that matter?

So when Bruce came back, well, he wasn't needed anymore. Wasn't needed for Gotham, or for Damian. Because it really didn't matter how hard he tried. He would never would- never wanted to be- Bruce.

And he thought that Damian had felt the same way. And sure, it had hurt to leave him, but pain was normal. Pain was necessary.

After all, wasn't Bruce the one Damian wanted?

Didn't he want the real Batman?

"Come home?"

Dick mouthed the words. They were so familiar, like, like he had heard them somewhere before-

Oh.

It was what he had said to Jason, in that alleyway an eternity ago.

I want you to come home.

Funny how the tables turn.

"Dami..." he was speechless. He'd never heard Damian sound more like a child than just then, stripping his soul bare and preparing for a hit. That was what honesty was- leaving yourself exposed.

"Grayson, I do not have all day."

Damian's lip betrayed his cold exterior. He was biting on it, a habit presumably gotten from Bruce. (Or maybe Dick. He did it too.)

"I... I just... home is a relative term," he said slowly. "Bludhaven's my home now."

"Right. That's why you're here, in Gotham, right now."

It was Damian's turn to be knowing. Dick sighed, running a hand through his hair. He couldn't escape this one.

"I didn't think you wanted me back there," he whispered.

Damian cocked his head. "Honestly," he scoffed, "you are as big of an imbecile as Todd. You both cannot see past your own little spats."

"Jason? You talked to him?"

"Yes. He immobilised me."

Dick laughed. He forgot how much Damian could make him laugh. It was just the way he said things, brutally honest, that sent him over the edge.

It was Dick's opinion that everyone should have a Damian in their life. And that they shouldn't lose that Damian like he had.

The former Batman grinned. "What were you talking about?"

"...You," Robin said, rather embarrassedly. "He told me... that if I needed you to come home, I should just tell you."

Dick reached a hand over and ruffled his hair fondly. A tinge of sadness coated his voice. "You need Bruce, not me," he said softly. "I was just... well... an intermediary. A meanwhile."

"You were more than that to me," Damian said in a brittle tone. Then, softer, "...I wasn't just a meanwhile, was I?"

Dick's heartstrings pulled painfully. "You were never that. No. You are everything to me, Dami. Never convince yourself otherwise."

"I'm not enough to make you stay, though."

Dick looked him full in the face. Silence passed for a while as he thought of what to say. How could he make him understand?

"...Just because people leave you, it doesn't mean they don't love you."

Damian peered up at him hopefully. "Does that mean you wish to come back? Pennyworth can have your room ready in-"

"Whoa, whoa. It's not that simple." Dick smiled slightly. "I can't... go back there."

"But-"

"Wait, hear me out. I can't go back there, but that doesn't stop me from seeing you. You can swing by here anytime."

"Really?"

Dick winced at the disbelief in his voice. "Really. And we can even go on patrol together, if you want."

Damian's weird code of chivalry prevented him from showing his happiness, but Dick could see it in his eyes. They had always been able to read each other like that. (Could Bruce read him like that? Had they ever been this close?)

"Hey, Dami?"

Damian snuggled into his side. "Yes, Grayson?"

Dick closed his eyes. Right then, in that little moment, he was okay.

Yes. He was okay.

"Thanks for bringing me home."

Okay, that was hard! I'm sorry this took so long. Stuff has been happening, lots of events, the usual. Sorry if this chapter feels kinda rushed, it was because I just couldn't leave you guys hanging! Well, with Christmas coming up, chapters should be coming more frequently, so keep your fingers crossed! As usual, review, like, or follow me (only if you liked it of course.) In case I don't update before Christmas, happy holidays!