"I'll make life impossible for you, Dick. Whatever workout routine you had in the circus, triple it - then triple it again!"
That was the first thing Bruce had told Dick once he started being Robin. A warning, letting him know what he was in for. Letting him know that under no circumstances, should Dick expect it to be easy, but Dick didn't care. He didn't want it to be easy, he just wanted to stop other people's lives from being torn apart like his was. And now, Dick has to figure out how to train a Robin of his own.
He's not going to be tripling or nonupling Damian's League of Shadows workouts, that's for sure. He has no clue where they fall on the scale of intensity to Batman approved workouts, but it doesn't really matter. When he saw Damian practicing the first time, before he allowed him out in the field at all, he could tell that physically, Damian was in better shape than any of the other Robins had been when they just started – unsurprising, considering he spent his entire life training. So, once Damian heals up, Dick's not worried about Damian having to prepare to condition himself physically for combat.
No, instead he's worried about other stuff – like Damian getting injured not because of lack of skill on his part, but because of lack of cautiousness. His first night out, he'd snuck out alone, and Dick gets the idea that Damian merely tolerates him, rather than accepting he can be someone who can protect him. Dick's pretty sure that if he did tell Damian it was his job to protect him, he'd get chewed out for 'patronizing' or 'coddling' him again.
Then there's protecting everyone else from Damian. Dick wants to believe that Damian's genuinely going to try to not kill anyone, but that doesn't change the fact that it seems like it's an option he'd resort to, if he doesn't see any other way to solve the problem. And then there's the fact that it seems like Damian's completely unwilling to regret his actions or even admit to doing anything wrong. Dick almost wants to ask Damian if he feels the same way about his kills in the League of Shadows, but he's worried about the answer he'll get.
Still, right now, he's focusing on the problem he can solve. That's training Damian to find a way to end extremely difficult conflicts without resorting to lethal force. He talked to Alfred about it, and they've decided the best way is probably a combination of regular sparring with Dick, and as many dummies and cardboard pop-ups and fake guns or rubber projectile launchers they can get from the old Batcave's training room.
Wayne Manor is quiet when Dick gets there. It's only been about two weeks since they left for the penthouse, but Dick's still surprised to see the grass cut and the yard in good shape, despite the fact that there hasn't been nearly enough time for it to overgrow – if Alfred would ever let it. To the best of Dick's knowledge, Alfred never told the landscapers to stop coming by, and he probably never would – Dick's pretty sure the idea of letting the Wayne Manor fall into disrepair would give Alfred a heart attack.
When Dick opens up the grandfather clock to go down to the Batcave, he notices a slight light emanating from it, giving the long staircase a faint green cast – which is not normal. He remembered shutting off everything but the security system when he left.
Carefully and silently, he creeps down the staircase on the balls of his feet, keeping his weight light. If someone broke into the Batcave, he has to sneak up on them and take them out before they see him – on the off chance they got here by luck, and not finding out that Batman is connected to Bruce Wayne.
Yeah, just stumbling around into random caves near the Wayne Manor. Totally a coincidence…
Dick reaches the bottom of the staircase and turns a corner, only to completely deflate. There's no enemy in the Batcave. Just Barbara, hunched over a bench and working intensely on something, with her back to him.
"Barbara, how'd you get in here?"
"Same way as you – by knowing the security codes."
She hasn't even looked up at him. He walks around to the front of her. Sprawled out on the table is some type of suit – kevlar plating forming half a breastplate, and circuitry on the inside Barbara's welding to it. She has on goggles, protecting her eyes from the light, and her long red hair is tied up in a bun.
"Is that for me?" Dick asks, keeping his voice light so she knows he's not one hundred percent serious. He leans against the table, and says, "Because I know I could use a suit upgrade – "
"So do it yourself," Barbara says sharply. "And move your hand unless you want it welded to the table."
Dick stands up. He can't tell exactly, but Barbara feels a little off right now – or more of, she's been off for weeks. She admitted that to him right after Bruce died. Everything conspiring to make her feel more insecure. And Dick knows that if he tries to comfort her, he'll only make it worse. She'll think he's saying she can't do it alone, when all he wants to say is that she doesn't have to.
"Sorry," Barbara says after a moment. She turns off her mini-torch and pushes the goggles up on her face. "It's just… not a good time."
"When is it ever?" Dick asks, mostly because it feels true, but he still gets an exasperated look for the comment.
Dick sits on the opposite side of the table as Babs, just in case she's wanting space. Babs runs her hands over her face and sighs.
"I thought you were out of the Batcave," she says eventually.
"I'm just getting some supplies," Dick says. "For training Damian."
Barbara nods with her mouth pressed in a thin line. Dick always got the idea she disapproved slightly of the general concept of Robin – not the individuals, but the "little kid following Batman into heavy gunfire" part. She helped everyone in the superhero community, but as the leader of the Birds of Prey, she really didn't employ minors a bunch – the closest was Charlie helping out in some tight situations, and from what Dick heard, she always preferred to keep the teenager out of the field when she could. "I guess additional training makes sense," she says a little tersely.
"Yup," Dick says. Palpable awkwardness fills the air, and he tries to change the topic: "So, if the suit isn't for me, who's it for?"
A long silence on Barbara's part. She shifts off of the bench seat at the table and onto her wheelchair and wheels back a pace, putting some space in between them. She takes a breath and lets it out, and finally says, "Stephanie."
Dick stands up so fast he bangs his knee on the table. "Stephanie?!" he asks.
Barbara holds her hands out. "I know, I know, that was my reaction at first, too."
"Barbara, are you forgetting that Stephanie started a gang war that killed lots of people – and almost killed her?"
"I don't forget anything, Dick."
"Then that makes building her a new Spoiler suit really weird!"
Barbara narrows her eyes and lowers her eyebrows and gives Dick a look that says now is so not the time. Dick doesn't really care. Things are hard enough to manage right now without throwing someone as unpredictable and untrained as Stephanie into the mix. "That gang war was Bruce's plan," Barbara says.
"That he never was going to use!"
"Okay, let's make a list – any time one of Bruce's schemes actually helped us, versus all of the times they hurt us!" She holds up a hand and starts listing them off: "Brother Eye, his files on the Justice League, War Games – "
Dick can't help but look away. He can't believe she's doing this right now. "You're really bringing this up? When he's gone?"
"When should I then?"
Never, Dick wants to say. He's perfectly content just – well, not listing off all of Bruce's flaws when he's not even here to defend himself. "How did this wind up about Bruce, anyway?" Dick asks. "I thought we were talking about Stephanie. Do you want to wind up burying her again?"
"At least Stephanie's old enough to drive!"
Dick swallows. All of a sudden, he just feels tired. He doesn't even know how things escalated with Babs, how they started arguing. "Is that what this is about, Babs? Do you not like me working with Damian?"
Barbara grinds her teeth. Dick guess she's trying to work on winding down herself, now that she noticed he's no longer matching her intensity. She exhales slowly, then says, "That's not what it's about at all, Dick. It has nothing to do with you and Robin and everything to do with me and Stephanie. So please, trust my judgment on this the same way I'm trusting yours."
Dick looks down. "All right," he says. "All right, let's just agree to trust each other's judgment on our… non conventional choices of proteges."
Barbara rubs her face. She smiles a little, then says, "Can I ask you a question, though? Not trying to make a 'gotcha' or start a fight, just… curiosity."
Dick sticks his hands in his pockets and shrugs. "Go for it."
"Aren't you even the littlest bit worried about taking a child into the field?"
Well, isn't that right to the heart of it.
"Obviously," Dick says. He chuckles a little, trying to lighten the mood. "I mean, I'd be a pretty shitty temporary guardian if I wasn't. Especially since Damian's already been shot. But…"
He trails off, trying to find the words, and for her part, Babs just lets him search.
"But Damian's not a normal kid," Dick says eventually. "He's not like I was when I just started, or Jason, or Tim, or Steph. From what Bruce told me back when that whole Ra's Al Ghul thing was going on, he was subject to the exact same training that the adult League of Shadows members were – meaning he's already been in the field, and already killed people – Bruce told me, he said that he'd killed too many people to remember."
Barbara swallows and clenches her jaw. "Damn."
"Yeah, my thoughts exactly."
"So your logic is you can't make him more messed up than he already is?"
Dick sighs. "Not even a little. It means – I don't know, I don't know if Damian even can go 'cold turkey' on fighting. I tried to suggest normal school to him, and he said something about being lightyears ahead of his peers, and I tried to suggest that one Dinah mentioned – the one for kids who were raised with violent backgrounds – "
"That sounds like it'd be ideal," Barbara says.
"Yeah, well he sounded pretty uninterested. I figure this way – I don't know, he feels like he's continuing his father's legacy. Which… Is important for him, I guess," Dick says. He's not quite sure why , considering Damian seemed to dislike Bruce's moral code, but it's clear that he at least wanted his dad to like him. "And besides, I'm not sure that he'd have stayed if I tried to make him act like a normal kid. At least now, I know someone's looking out for him."
Barbara pushes her glasses up on her face and rubs the bridge of her nose. "I get it," she says. "You're raising a kid you have no control over, so you kind of just – sort of hope you push things in the right direction."
Dick frowns a little at her phrasing – raising a kid – because to the best of his knowledge, it was never his intention to raise any kids, much less Bruce's biological son who has more baggage than Gotham Airport.
"Yeah, you're reticent," Barbara says, even though Dick didn't say anything out loud. She could tell. "You said you were his temporary guardian, Dick. Not his legal guardian."
Dick rubs the back of his neck. Damn that eidetic memory of hers. "I guess," he says.
Barbara sighs heavily. "Bruce isn't coming back, Dick. There's not really anyone you can shove off this responsibility to."
Like Dick doesn't know that. "I'm not trying to shove it off, Barbara, I'm just – "
"Not ready for it?" Barbara asks.
Dick shakes his head. He knows he needs to be ready for it, he knew that once Damian got shot. But he says, "I don't know. Not wanting it."
"You better not tell Damian that," Barbara says. "Not much messes up a kid more than feeling like they're not wanted."
"I'm pretty sure he hates me, anyway."
Barbara sighs. "That sounds fun."
"Oh, it is, believe me," Dick says.
Barbara seems to be letting a little stress out of her posture, her shoulders are a little less high, and Dick figures he should get this out of the way while they're on the topic. "So," he says, "now that we're talking like reasonable adults, instead of… stressed out adults… do you mind if I ask you a question?"
Barbara smiles slightly. "I guess that's fair."
"Aren't you even a little worried about Stephanie?"
Barbara sighs. "Of course I'm worried, Dick. I'm not ever not worried when I send out an operative into the field. Especially since a distressingly high number of them seem to start out viewing orders as gentle suggestions."
"I know," Dick says, while mentally trying to figure out if he ever did that. Not like she'd ordered him around, but still. "But isn't it different with Stephanie?"
"What do you mean?" Barbara asks. "Because she got hurt earlier? Because she doesn't have as many years of hero-ing under her belt?"
Dick doesn't answer. Honestly, it's very hard for him to remember a lot of what went on during the Gotham gang war except for his crushing guilt and worry that Bruce would find out what he did to Blockbuster – or more of, what he didn't stop from happening. But he still remembers that it was bad, that civilians and kids were getting killed, and the horrifying knowledge that it wasn't one of the crime lords who started this – it was one of them.
"What if someone gets hurt?" Dick asks.
"Dick, can you tell me who you're really worried about? Stephanie, or someone else?"
Dick shrugs weakly. He doesn't want this to end up in another fight, and he does want to believe that Barbara knows what she's doing – no, he doesn't want to trust her, he does. He just doesn't really trust Steph yet, and he gets the idea that not trusting one of Barbara's operatives equates to not trusting her in her mind.
"I trust that everyone's going to do what they think is right, but that doesn't mean they'll always make the right decisions."
Barbara raises an eyebrow. "So you don't trust Stephanie." It's not a question.
Dick nods slowly.
"You know whose idea this was?" Babs asks, crossing her arms.
"Stephanie's?"
"Cassandra's," Barbara says. "She thought we weren't there for her enough, and maybe she's right. Surely you can sympathize with wanting to be there for someone, even if they've done things you don't agree with in the past."
Dick holds his hands up. "All right, all right, I sympathize," he says. "Is that what you want?"
Barbara smiles slightly. "Yes," she says. "Now, what did you actually come down to the Batcave for?"
Dick sighs. He figures that if she wants to, Barbara can throw his worry about Stephanie back in his face when he admits he's trying to train Damian so he doesn't resort to killing people. But she doesn't. She just has some good suggestions – like getting her holo-room out of storage, so that Damian can practice checking his blows against someone who looks and acts like an enemy – and volunteers to help him set it up in the Batbunker.