"Really didn't think I'd see you this soon, sport."

Damian can't see the person who speaks to him.

Damian floats in a black abyss. He can't feel anything. He can't move his body. His limbs feel nonexistent as if he had no body, to begin with. It's just, somehow, him floating in nothingness while listening to the man who was talking to him. Damian distantly notes that he recognizes the voice, but he couldn't pinpoint the person it belonged to.

"What do you mean?" Damian asks though he doesn't feel his mouth following his words. He doesn't feel his mouth moving at all.

"I mean that it's not your time yet. Remember what I told you?"

No.

"I said you wouldn't see me again unless you took an early dive to death. That sword to your stomach was fatal, you know? Wasn't expecting you so soon."

"Grandpa…?"

"That's me," the voice echoes through the dark space. "It's nice to know that you haven't forgotten me."

"How could I forget…?" Damian rasps. He is aware that, in some way, he is searching through the space for his grandpa. He can't find the man who was talking to him. There was nothing to see in this space. How was it that his grandpa could see him? "Why can't I see you?" Damian finally asks.

"Hmm," Thomas' voice hums, vibrating throughout the abyss, "How should I put this? You're in a state between life and death.

"I died?"

His grandpa laughs. " No. I just said that you're in a state between life in death. It all depends on how you want to proceed from here."

"Oh," Damian says, simply, unsure as for how he was to take in this information. He had been stabbed by his grandfather through the stomach but he had also defeated his grandfather. Ra's wasn't dead. No. Damian didn't think so. Sure, he had a bunch of cuts, bruises, and burns, but all Damian did was knock his grandfather out. Damian had hoped that he could leave the judgment of his grandfather's fate to his father. Ra's had, after all, slaughtered all of the elves. His father deserved to decide the fate of his kinslayer.

"So what's it going to be, kid?"

"Hm?"

"Are you going to live or not?"

"I don't know," Damian admits, "It's a lot more peaceful here… and I don't think I'd mind seeing grandmother again…"

A large, exasperated, sigh shakes Damian's surroundings.

"Don't tell me you're giving up?"

Something sparks in Damian.

"I'm not giving up, " he huffs.

"Sure sounds like it to me. I know it's your choice and all, but if you do come over to this side, I'm going to kick you out right away! You've got a life left to live. It'd also be nice if you didn't give your father any more grief. He's pretty worried, you know. I'm sure your siblings are too."

"You think they wouldn't be mad at me?" Damian asks.

"Why'd they be mad at you?"

"I don't know. Maybe for getting stabbed in the stomach?"

"Now that wasn't exactly your fault."

"How would I face them?" Damian ignores his grandpa's previous words. It was shameful that his insecurity was festering in such a way that caused him to lay his worries bare to his deceased grandpa. Yet, even so, it needed to get out. He needed to hear an answer from someone. "They've done a lot for me. I only dragged them into this huge mess."

"Damian," his grandpa's voice was covered in a no-nonsense tone. "That can't honestly be what you think, can it?"

"And if it is?"

"Then you're wrong. Family sticks together. Haven't you learned that by now?"

"I just don't want to see their disappointed-"

"They won't be disappointed. If anything, they'll be happy to have you back. Trust me on this. Is it not the duty of the younger generations to respect and honor their ancestors? Honor my words. I will know it when you open your eyes to the waking world."

"I guess I can do that," Damian relents.

"Good," Thomas says. Damian can hear his voice become lighter after hearing Damian's reluctant agreement. "I'm going to give you a little push this time."

"What?" Damian's voice cracks in questioning. Thomas ignores him as Damian's black abyss slowly begins to fill with light. The lights start out as little specks until they grow larger and larger to the point that they were nearly engulfing all of the darkness around him. It took Damian only a few seconds to recognize this scene as the one in his dreams, except Ra's had usually been there.

Multiple things hit him at once. Aches. Feelings. Pains.

The soreness of his muscles is another waking factor. They twitch as he tries to lift his heavy eyelids. It felt as if his eyelashes were being held down by ten-pound weights, but that was not enough to deter Damian. He puts all of the little energy he has to open up his eyes. His success is quick and also blinding. The light that lingered on the ceiling turned out to be too much for him. That is why he immediately closed his eyes after, clenching his hands into fists in reaction to the sudden strain. Except, onlyone hand becomes a fist because the other seemed to be trapped into some sort of tight prison.

Something else in the room with him stirs once he twitches.

"Dami?" A voice, hoarse, whispers tiredly with only a glimmer of hope.

Grayson. Oh. What would he think? Damian couldn't feel what Grayson was feeling anymore.

Damian cracks open his eyes once more.

His eyes shift to the body next to his bed.

Yes. He's in a bed. The room looks to be his from a single glance. He didn't know how he had come to be transported to this place from the top of a hospital's rooftop but- wait a second… he was on a hospital's rooftop… he probably had the quickest emergency care known to man. His father seemed to be a powerful man, so Damian wouldn't put it past him to pull a few strings in regards to his privacy. It would do no good if everyone found out he was the heir to the man who had been attacking Gotham.

Damian moves to get up but immediately has his head fall back on his pillow.

His stomach was an absolute nightmare. The nerves there were screaming at him to get some damn rest. He could not afford to move. Not with the bandaged wound on his stomach crying out at him.

"Damian!" Grayson shouts out in his joy.

Damian flinches at the sound.

Grayson sees this and instantly quiets down, "Sorry. It's just- you're awake!"

Damian grunts in affirmation. Yes. He was awake now.

Grayson then frowns. "You shouldn't move!" (a little too late for that) "And do you know how much trouble you've put us all through!? Do you know how much I worried about you? It wasn't fun wondering if you'd wake up or not!"

Grayson goes on and on but he never lets go of Damian's hand the entire time.

Damian turns his head away, not caring to keep eye contact with his brother. All the things he was saying were enough to inflict a sharp feeling within his chest. He really wished he hadn't put his family through so many problems. It seemed his almost-death gave them problems too.

"Damian," his brother's jabbering stops in stating Damian's name. "You belong with us. Don't go leaving us anytime soon, okay?"

Damian looks back at his brother hesitantly. The raw emotion on his brother's face gave Damian a startling realization. He didn't need the pact to understand how Grayson was feeling right now.

"I'm sorry," Damian whispers.

Grayson's shoulders slump. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that. I wasn't looking for an apology. I'm the one who should be sorry with running my mouth off like that. Just… just tell me that you're okay?"

Well, his injury like hell, but his snapped connection with Grayson isn't hurting anymore. Speaking of, why hadn't the pact's broken state seem to affect his older brother? Damian doesn't recall Grayson ever seeming weakened or anything of the like.

"I'm okay," Damian grunts as he shifts ever so slightly. The smallest movement causes his injury to flare up in pain which gives him a good idea on how long he's going to be staying in bed. He could use some pain killers. Those would really help. Honestly.

His wounds are not the only thing he is painfully aware of. Damian can feel Grayson's thumb run across his knuckles in a hypnotizing movement. Damian is unsure if such a gesture if for his comfort or for his older brother's.

"What happened to my grandfather?" Damian asks.

Grayson looked like he knew such a question was coming. He smiles, nervously, "Well, he's in the custody of The Patrol."

"You mean he isn't dead?"

He was so certain that his father would have had his revenge-killing by now. Then again, he had never seen his father kill anyone nor mention the want to do so. Damian knows that, unlike his father, he would have ended his grandfather without a second thought. The man was too dangerous to be left alive.

"Well, I suppose, in a way," Grayson says.

What did that mean?

"He's aging pretty quickly. We think it's because he hasn't used the Lazarus Pit in some time."

"You are suggesting he may die of old age?" Damian asks. What a dishonor for his grandfather. The man had always expressed his wish to die in glorious battle rather than to the natural aging of all creatures. Damian would not have to worry about such a thing as the elves seemed to have long lifespans. The Al Ghuls, the shadow walkers, on the other hand… they only lived slightly longer than a human.

"Yeah. It's a possibility."

"Hmm," Damian hums, no longer disappointed in the lack of action of those around him.

Their conversation is cut short when the door opens after two quick knocks. Tim enters, opening his mouth as if to say something. He stops quickly when he sees Damian awake.

"Damian! You're awake!" He says.

"I've noticed," Damian growls. The noise. Why'd everyone have to be so loud ?

"Stay right there! I'm getting everyone else!"

Well, he couldn't exactly move anywhere.

Tim, in his excitement, jets out of the room like a pony being released into a pasture. Tim is true to his word when he says that he will bring in everyone else. The whole family ends up filtering within his room one by one. Damian watches Jason arrive first, his father following, and then both Barbara and Cassandra squeeze in as best they can. Alfred and Stephanie come last.

Cassandra speaks first, "I have something of yours."

Damian notices that she has an armful of something. The item within her arms is only revealed to him when she plops down an orange ball of fluff on his chest. Cass is careful not to place the kitten on Damian's stomach. He secretly thanks her for her consideration.

"Sunset, " he stresses the name out. She's okay. She's here. She's here!

The kitten mewls in response. Happy. Warm.

"Thank you," Damian chokes on his words. He tried to sound normal, but his emotions were getting the best of him again.

He raises a hand to gently pat his animal friend on the head. Sunset pushes her head into the palm of his head in loving reply.

"Brat," Jason huffs. "Thought you were going to die there."

"It'll take more to kill me," Damian tells Jason.

"Obviously," Jason is quick to say.

Damian pretends he doesn't see the small smile on Jason's lips. He doesn't see that expression on his brother's face often. It's so weird that he'd do it now.

Damian looks sideways where his father stands right behind Grayson. Sunset, at that moment, was curling up in a ball on Damian's chest. He tries to pay the weight of her body on his chest no mind as he focuses on his father's unchanging gaze.

Damian knew he was going to get a scolding. Grayson did it. His father would too.

His father proves him wrong. "It's over now, Damian. You did it. We're safe."

He didn't think the words would be so impactful. The tears that form in the corner of his eyes are absolutely shameful and Damian tries to hide them by bringing his wrist up to cover his eyes.

How could he even dare to think he could just die and leave all these people behind?

"We're all happy that you're here, Damian," Barbara adds in her own thoughts.

Damian looks over them. One by one.

He'll never say this again for the rest of his life, or at least that is what he tells himself. He thinks that it is acceptable to allow himself this one weak moment in front of his family.

"I'm happy too."


AN: Not the end.