How to Make Something New

by fadesfanfic

After Bruce Wayne's apparent death, Dick Grayson takes the mantle of Batman - and the task of raising Bruce's biological son, who was raised as an assassin. Dick has to balance Damian's needs and his obligations as Batman, as well as a relationship with Barbara Gordon, the Oracle. Damian has to deal with his fathers minions, none of whom seem to understand him. updating here now.

35. No Win Scenario

Without the physical training or patrol as Batman, Damian is beginning to get the idea that Grayson is bored.

The man has volunteered to help Damian with his health and human development class – the most boring of Damian's classes – even though Damian needs no such help. He doesn't need help with any of his classes. Pennyworth is an adequate tutor for the courses he does tutor, and Damian's perfectly fine doing the rest alone.

"I don't need help," Damian explains, as Grayson tries to sit down on the couch next to him while he's working on his notebook. They just finished up the previous lesson yesterday; he is not looking forward to whatever inane civilian disguise task he has to learn next.

"I'm not helping," Grayson says. "I mean I am helping. But not you. I'm helping Alfred."

"Tt. So go bother him."

"I'm helping him by teaching this lesson for him," Dick says, "Since I have more free time temporarily."

Of course, this is entirely Grayson's fault. It was his decision to let the injury take him out of the field. And it's his decision not to spend his downtime training.

… Though at least he's consistent. If he'd forced Damian out of the field and forced Damian to take training light while wounded, the man doing something different for himself would be straight up hypocritical.

Damian sighs. Whatever lesson Grayson has his going to be tainted by his... Grayson-ness. Weakness. He scatters all of their civilian interactions with it. Admitting to being seriously wounded as a child. Admitting to needing time off. Straight up calling himself 'weak of mind'.

He was easier to respect when he was being Batman, even if it was just an impersonation.

"What's the lesson for today?" Damian asks. " 'How to think like a civilian'? 'How to read the newspaper like a civilian'? 'How to have the same nonsensical values civilians do'?"

Grayson frowns slightly. What's he frowning for?

"How to make decisions – " Grayson says.

"Like a civilian?"

"Like Robin."

Hm. At least that's something. Even though Damian can already be Robin; he already is Robin.

Grayson reaches a hand towards him and Damian grabs him by the wrist, stopping... whatever it was going to be. It looked affectionate, but such a gesture would be inappropriate outside the confines of family.

… Family Damian doesn't have anymore.

"Is this class making you miserable, kiddo?" Grayson asks.

If it wouldn't mean kicking the man while he was down, Damian would break Grayson's wrist for the insult. And because... because he's just angry, okay? But he just releases his wrist and scoots back almost a meter on the couch. "It's pretty ridiculous for you to think that something regular American schoolchildren do would be upsetting for me. I'm much more resilient than a regular American schoolchild."

Grayson narrows his eyes slightly and says, "I guess it was a little ridiculous on my part."

Hm. His reticent agreement is suspicious. But Damian doesn't want to get into it, so he says, "I'm glad you understand."

"Either way," Grayson says, and that stupid look of concern that only made Damian want to punch his face in vanishes. "This is supposed to be school, and learning stuff you're actually going to use seems like a good idea, right?"

"I always learned things I was going to use when I was with the League of Shadows." Damian cringes the instant the words are out of his mouth. He doesn't know why. Thinking about it just weird.

"So no reason we can't replicate that here," Grayson continues. "Let's go down to the holo-room."

Damian stands up and starts stretching his limbs. At least combat will allow him to get the – not anxiety, he doesn't get anxious – but... strange feelings out. It's always been consistent.

"You'll be incapable of fighting, Grayson," Damian reminds him.

Grayson nods. "I know."

The two of them are briefly silent as they cross the hall from the apartment to the elevator, out of respect for Grayson's secret identity.

… Strategically, Damian doesn't like having to briefly enter the civilian world, even if there's only one other apartment on this floor, even if the elevator has a secret button right to the bunker. It would be possible – albeit unlikely – for someone to watch outside the building, see them enter the elevator, and see them never coming out on any of the public access floors...

It could lead to secrets being revealed. It unnecessarily places them in a potential attacker's view. Damian should know – he's exploited situations like this on missions.

Grayson's never asked about his missions for the League. Damian wonders how much of it the man just doesn't want to know. How much he'd rather pretend Damian was like him. I've been Robin. He was trying to... empathize. Something not many people were willing to do. But he also wasn't anything like Damian as a child.

The two get down to the bunker – finally. Down to work. Grayson walks over immediately to the console that controls the holo-room and starts typing in some commands.

"Get changed into Robin," Grayson says, "Since that's how we'll be doing this lesson anyway."

Damian nods sharply and rushes over to get changed. He's in the second-copy of the Robin uniform he has, since the primary version is still being repaired from the battle with Phosphorus. He supposes that having a backup was handy. Though Grayson initially explained it as not wanting to make Pennyworth do laundry every single day.

Putting on his uniform is soothing. Gearing up always is. You always do it the same, check that everything is on properly, the tightness of the laces of the boots, the weapons are clean and functional and in their usual compartments, the night-vision mode on the domino mask is working fine –

And then he's ready to go.

Grayson's outside the holo-room still, sitting in the chair by the console. "So, before you hop in there," Grayson says, "First thing you do when you meet someone, what do you notice."

"Their dominant hand," Damian answers instinctively. He, in fact, gives the exact same answers he gave to his instructors in the League. "It will let you know which direction an attack might come from and how to position yourself. Then, their clothing – are they concealing any weaponry, what can they fit underneath it. Thirdly – "

Grayson raises a hand, cutting him off.

Damian looks down. He knows he had the right answer. But he also knows he's going to be scolded for slipping into old habits, or it's not what he was supposed to do, or...

Or something.

"It's okay, I just wanted one thing," Grayson continues.

"Well, I gave you one," Damian says. But he still feels weird and he still doesn't know why.

"What about a setting?" Grayson asks, continuing the quiz. "You arrive, I don't know, at a city block or something. What do you check first."

Likely sniper positions. Who has the best view of the battlefield – No. Something Grayson or Father would want him to notice first. "Potential collateral damage," Damian says. "Civilians, I mean. How populated the place is."

Grayson nods slightly. Damian's not entirely sure that Grayson bought it as his first thought.

"And how do you know if the civilians are, uh, 'potential collateral damage'?" Grayson asks, putting air quotes around the potential collateral damage part of the phrase. "How do you know if they're in danger?"

"Well, all civilians are," Damian says, because it's true.

"Okay, but if you see like a baby falling from a fifty-story-building, a kid on a bench waiting for a bus stop, and an old lady paying the parking meter, one of them's going to be in the most immediate danger."

Damian knew that of course.

"Let's change the situation," Grayson says. "Go in the holo-room, I got some nice visuals for you."

"And you?" Damian asks.

"Will be here on comms. Just join our regular channel."

Damian does. He doesn't know where Grayson's going with this. But at least it's more interesting than what he'd usually be doing at this time of day.

A large boulder, isolated from any other scenery, appears in the middle of the holo room.

"Duck down behind the boulder," Grayson says over comms. "Like you're using it for cover."

Damian does.

The rest of the holographic scenery fills out, far more detailed than they had in previous training simulations. It's clearly not just about fighting enemies. Though he knows the room is far too small for this to be accurate, it feels over 50 meters across. In front of him – a limousine, four men with automatic rifles parked out side of it, scanning – probably for him. Behind the men, a burning house. To the sides, a street extending one way and the other, indicating Damian probably is crouched by a road. From his right, he hears distant, yet convincing sirens.

Inside the burning building comes someone's cry. Wordless. Almost like an infant's.

If Grayson is using another infant in his hypothetical situation, he's not very creative. But Damian knows what he has to do. He reaches for his belt. Two batrangs per hand. Four men with guns. Much simpler math than calculus.

Damian throws his batarangs and each one of them hits (would you expect anything else?) and while the men are distracted by that, he leaps out from his cover and launches himself over the rock, coming in at one of the men in the middle with a kick right to the face. The man's knocked back, Damian flies through his holographic body and lands on the ground. He sweeps one of the other men's legs, comes in with an elbow to the kidney as he's falling, then grabs where his head would be and slams it into the ground.

The other two men have retrieved their guns. Damian backs up at the imaginary bullet fire, a nearly convincing crack crack crack of gunshots goes off – the illusion ruined by the fact that they're not quite as loud as they would be in real life, and the soft thuck thuck thuck of the rubber projectiles actually hitting the floor.

Before the men can take aim, Damian grabs a smoke bomb and throws it at the ground, but he's too smart to stay in the cloud for more than a split second – he rushes up towards the men while they're still figuring out what happened to him, comes in, grabs where one holographic man's wrist would be and brings his fist at the back of their elbow – would be a perfectly executed armbar, were his target real – the hologram loosens his hands on his gun and Damian mimes yanking it out of his hands and throwing it away while the fourth man is aiming at him, Damian ducks underneath the gun and comes up with an uppercut to the man's groin. He pitches over and this time Damian aims his uppercut to the man's chin.

All four down. Less than 10 seconds. He grabs his grappling gun and prepares to fire it at the burning building –

The simulation disappears.

"I won!" Damian protests.

Grayson over comms again: "I know you did. So, decision time: Why did you leave cover?"

Is this a trick question? It seems like a trick question. "Does the infant in the burning building – cheap shot, by the way – "

"Cheap shots are all I can afford," Grayson says.

Ugh, inane, frustrating man! Making jokes during Damian's training! But Damian doesn't get into it. He doesn't stoop to Grayson's level. He just finishes what he was going to say " – or the criminals with guns answer your question? It was obviously a situation that demanded action, Grayson!"

"You're right, it was."

"Then what's the point of this?!"

"You have recognize when you make the right calls so you can duplicate it," Grayson says. "So let's go into it. How did you know the situation demanded immediate action?"

Because it was obvious it did? How can one even answer such a dumb question?

"Let's try another one," Grayson says, and then the scenery changes again. A couple of crates appear, and Grayson says, "Take cover behind the crates."

"Are all these exercises going to start with me in cover?" Damian asks.

"Yes."

Ugh. But Damian does so.

This time, the situation is different. Damian appears to be in a warehouse, behind a series of boxes. The holo-room again appears exceptionally large in size. Spread out before him is some type of … factory, Damian thinks. Two exits, each one equally far from him. Long tables, awkward bright lights, people at work. Poor ventilation, small windows up at the top. Intermittently, about every 5 meters or so on the ground, is a human with an AK-47, wearing body armor. Between them are well... Damian can only assume they're slaves. Haggard-looking people, wearing old sweaty clothes, each working some machine in an assembly line – but they must not be typical employees, because the men with AK-47s aren't looking out, guarding them from something – they're looking in, at the people on the assembly line, watching for something. And any time one of them fixes their gaze on a worker, the person shrinks back, nervously.

Obviously beaten down and terrified.

Damian finishes his headcount of the armed men. Eight of them. He can take care of that. He thinks. They're all far apart from each other –

If he were on a League of Shadows mission, he would wait. There would be no reason to leap into action immediately; he could take out each man one-by-one and avoid such a drawn-out fight, with the enemies spread so far from each other –

And if he did have to fight eight enemies so spread apart, he'd be able to steal one of their guns and use it to dispatch the others quickly.

Damian huffs. The men all seem fairly aware of the situation. He's not likely to get the element of surprise on more than one of them. But he just knows that the 'right' answer here will be rescuing the civilians. He just can't see how to do that without starting a gunfight across fifty or so innocent people.

He bunches his hands into fists. This is just... annoying. But he figures he has to try.

He figures he can throw only one batarang per hand if he's throwing them hard enough for what he needs in this situation – to prevent each man from picking his gun up again for the remainder of the fight. Burying the batarang in each man's collarbone or the joint of his dominant hand's shoulder will be fairly distracting.

The first two, he'll have easy. They won't see him. But the other six will have time to shoot him. He needs something to even the playing field.

It will be hard once the civilians start panicking. But they should be smart enough to get down when people start shooting; he knew that when he wasn't much older than a toddler. So he grabs a smoke grenade – one of the slow-release ones. He gives the grenade a quick underhand throw and it bounces on the floor underneath a table, hopefully not noticeable yet –

And takes out the two men furthest from him. It will be hardest to get to them, so he definitely wants them out of the picture. The batarangs clank into the wall far before they actually can hit their targets, who must be further away than the walls of the real room –

Just on time. The other six notice him.

Damian drops to the ground, rolls forward, and takes cover behind one of the men with a gun. The one nearest to him. Damian kicks the man in the inner knee as the man is trying to take a step back to use his gun to his advantage – right now, Damian's too close for the man to even hold the thing out. Damian brings a hammerfist down on where the man's groin would be, and as the man pitches forward, backfists to his nose, breaking it. He pulls the gun out of the man's hands and mimes grabbing the man, forcing him to be a shield between Damian and the others.

Cain would not approve. But she's not here. The other five men take aim, Damian ducks as they do and they shoot the person he just disarmed –

Damian is now by a table. His smokebomb is still filling the air, the civilians have started freaking out – some of them are ducking down like smart people, some of them are just frozen in place –

Shit. And of course, one is frozen in place right in the line of fire between two of the guards Damian is supposed to incapacitate.

Damian leaps and tackles the civilian, a rubber bullet smacks into him, but it's just to the leg so Damian knows he hasn't 'lost' yet. With the civilian on the ground, Damian takes out one of his explosive batarangs and throws it above the head of another armed guard, so that when the explosion goes off, it will startle and daze the man –

he rolls off – well, out of, since he fell through their non-existent body – the civilian before he can make them more of a target. More rubber bullets fly through the air. How many fake guns did they embed in the holo-room, anyway?

He's got himself nearer to another guard, and just comes in with a sharpened batarang to the knee. He doesn't feel like playing nice; he has to get everyone out of commission as soon as possible in order to avoid bloodshed. The man tries to grab Damian and he's a hologram, so of course he can't actually physically manipulate him, but the simulation reads it as if it were real and the other men all take aim and immediately shoot.

Damian only gets out of his arms at the last second – he hates playing by the rules of the simulation when he could just walk out, but in order for it to count he has to mime a swift break of the man's finger, shoving both his elbows up and squeezing out of his arms –

and another one is riddled with bullets from his allies.

Shame, Damian thinks (unshamefully). But he didn't kill the guy, and in the world of the simulation, this man is obviously a slaver or something. He would deserve to die.

"Are you intending on leaving any survivors?" Grayson asks over comms.

"Shut up!"

The hologram disappears before Damian can finish.

"Hey!" Damian says. "I wasn't done winning!"

Now that the simulation has disappeared, Damian can see Grayson through the transparent walls of the training room. The man is still at the console.

"You got shot and had enemies severely wounded, two dead, and four civilian casualties," Grayson says. "You weren't winning."

"I didn't notice the civilians – "

Damian sighs. He knows that was the point. He should have. He failed.

"Don't feel bad," Grayson says. "It was a no win situation."

Damian can't believe he's hearing this. "You set me up to fail ? – I mean, there's no such thing!"

"Sure there is, haven't you heard of the Kobayashi Maru?"

"The what –? What language is that in?"

"Not a real one. It's a Star Trek thing. But I'm in your – and Kirk's – camp. No such thing as a no-win scenario. "

"So you're trying to teach me to think the opposite way way I should?" Stupid Grayson with his stupid cheating simulation. "You're trying to prime me for failure? What kind of joke is this?"

Grayson raises his hands up in mock (insulting) surrender. "Relax, kid. It was only a no-win scenario because the simulation is incomplete. The world was confined to that tiny room in the warehouse. You couldn't get allies, or evacuate the civilians, or find out who was in charge – "

"I was going to take out the guards one-by-one, but that would have been wrong!" Damian says. He can't believe this! Grayson is tricking him again!

"Because you were going to kill them?" Grayson asks.

As if he needs to kill someone to get them out of the fight. "Because it's what I would have done earlier," Damian says. "When I was an assassin. You wanted me to think about civilians."

Grayson frowns slightly. Why's he frowning? He gets to pretend to be superior again. "Why would you have done it earlier?"

Why must nearly every training situation of Grayson's involve a hundred questions? "Because the civilians would be incidental to the mission. It was a risky situation, easy to spiral out of control. Staying on target and ignoring distractions would be correct."

"And what would your mission have likely been?"

Damian has no clue why Grayson is going down this path in his interrogation. "Well, the League of Shadows as a league full of assassins; use your brain."

"Killing someone?"

He really excels in stating the obvious. "I've also stolen information for blackmail," Damian says. "Or regular stealing." He knows Grayson will be suggesting he should feel bad about it, so he tilts up his head slightly. Tries to make it clear he's not going to be judged. It's not something he'll allow to happen.

"To what end?" Grayson asks. He's annoyingly difficult to read right now.

And, even more annoyingly, Damian doesn't know how to answer that question. He knows what Grand – Ra's claimed his goals were, and he knows the goals for certain individual missions, but however the big picture worked was so vague, even as Damian was supposed to prepare to take over...

Grandfather never told him more. Damian never asked. He'd been too busy being a puppet. Thinking he would be the next Ra's Al Ghul when he was just going to be an empty vessel for the current one.

"It's okay," Grayson says. Again, his hands are raised up in the insulting mock surrender. "You don't have to answer. I guess I was trying to imagine what was going through your head – "

Damian bunches his hands in fists. He wishes Grayson would stop trying to understand him –

Because it's just uncomfortable, and he doesn't want to talk about it, and if Grayson already thinks that Damian was only doing bad things, trying to understand people – emotionally, not tactically – who are only doing bad things is dumb and a waste of time and just shows how weak you are to everyone.

"Kiddo?" Grayson asks.

Damian wishes he could punch off the look of concern on the man's face. Again. "You weren't trying to understand me; you were trying to say why I was wrong!"

Grayson appears genuinely surprised. He's a good actor. He stands up and winces as he does –

He's still injured; Damian could probably easily beat him in a fight –

But it'd be pointless. It'd just make Grayson spend more time in recovery, more time not having anything to do except bother him.

And Damian... genuinely didn't like seeing him injured.

Grayson opens up the door to the holo-room and enters. He's got his brows furrowed now, looking a little less insultingly concerned, but his stance is still painfully non-threatening. Arms at his sides, elbows bent, fingers hooked in the pockets of his jeans like he's pretending he's being casual, but Damian can tell he's not.

"I didn't mean to upset you," Grayson says.

"I'm not upset!"

"You think I was coming in to criticize you, but I'm not," Grayson says, a bit more forcefully.

"Then why did you try to give me a no-win scenario?"
Grayson grimaces. "Okay, that was a dumb move on my part. I wanted to see how you reacted. What decision you'd make."

"So you could criticize it?"

Grayson's still grimacing slightly. What's he got to feel bad about anyway? "I told you earlier. So when you're right, you can figure out why you were right and duplicate it. And when you're wrong, you can figure out what went wrong. The situations were different."

"Because you intentionally set me up for failure on one!"

"I already said I know that was a dumb move on my part."

Again, nothing but weakness from the man. Mother would never call one of her training scenarios dumb, neither would any of his other instructors.

"It was a situation you might encounter in the real world; the holo-room just wasn't big enough – or advanced enough – to present you with all the variables," Grayson continues. "I guess you were approaching it logically for a training situation – kind of like a video game, where all you need to win is going to be available – "

"What the hell is a video game?" Damian can get the word game, though. He knows that it probably has to do with some civilian exercise for children. Which should not come up into his training at all!

"Uh, it's like a game... but on the computer or a console? It's so not the point. What you were suggesting earlier, taking out the guards one-by-one, that was smart."

Damian knows it was smart, but he also knew it wasn't the answer that Grayson wanted. He's going through all of this trouble to give Grayson the answer he wanted –

And it's still wrong.

Things were so much easier earlier.

"Kiddo?" Grayson asks, when Damian doesn't say anything for a moment.

"Just shut up," Damian says.

At least Grayson does shut up for a moment.

"What's the next part of the lesson?" Damian asks. He'd rather just get back on topic – get back to succeeding rather than dealing with Grayson's... whatever's wrong with the man now.

"... Are you sure you want to keep going?"

"Tt. Obviously, otherwise I wouldn't have asked!"

"Okay," Grayson says, but he doesn't step out of the holo-room. "I have to give you some heads up, though – this one may seem kind of... no-winny. Again."

Of course. "That won't be an issue. I already deal with a no-win situation every time I talk to you."

For some reason, Grayson seems to cringe slightly at the words.

Good.

Grayson exits the holo-room now and sits back down at the console. He hits a button, and some more scenery spawns. This time, it appears to be a partially destroyed overpass for a road. Damian immediately crouches down near the middle of one wall of the overpass, in the place that will provide him with maximum cover, without being asked.

The scenery that Grayson spawns this time seems to be a bombed city, destroyed skyscrapers in the background. The air is gray, before him are various tall, lizard-like aliens with golden armor, each of them holding unfamiliar guns or quarterstaves. In the immediate vicinity, two of them, but about ten meters down on either side of the overpass are another two, and then ten meters from that another two. And so on and so forth. A veritable line of aliens.

In between these aliens appear to be captured humans. They're walking in chains. Most of them are looking down.

A no-win situation because again there is a horde of civilians to manage against combatants – but this time, combatants of unknown capabilities. Damian's never seen these aliens before in his life. In fact, most of his dealings outside the realm of humans and their crime and corruption have been mystical, rather than extraterrestrial.

Presumably, the aliens aren't as strong or invulnerable as kryptonians, if they need armor and weapons. Again presumably, their weapons can hurt their own kind.

So all he has to do is steal one.

He knows what he's "supposed" to do. With the civilians not in immediate danger, he's "supposed" to take the aliens out one-by-one. However, not knowing the anatomy of the aliens means he's not sure if he can do it – he risks not being able to knock them out quickly, and they can alert the others, or incapacitating them lethally and –

Does it even count as killing if you're killing alien invaders? The scenario is clearly referencing one of the attempted alien invasions of Earth.

Damian keeps scanning the scenery. Grayson said that in video games, everything you need to win is available. So if this is anything like a stupid game, he'll be able to take out all the aliens and save all of the humans with what's present in the simulation.

He checks behind him. If there's a way to win here, there's going to be a place where he can evacuate the civilians and hide them. In the middle of the road underneath the overpass, kind of conveniently, is a manhole. Damian needs something to pry off the lid. The opening is too small for one of the giant aliens to slip through, so it would be a safe place the humans could retreat to – if the aliens don't drop bombs or gas down there.

He takes out a batarang and tries to shove it through one of the openings to the man-hole. He has no clue if it's curved enough to actually hook on the inside and get it open. He can't really shove it inside, because the inside of the manhole would be in the floor of the room.

"Grayson," he says over comms.

Grayson must do something because the hologram of the man-hole raises about 5 centimeters. Enough that Damian can start to mess with it.

He starts, and it's really frustrating just moving the batarang around in air, not able to get any feedback about if he's hitting anything right. This must be why all of his previous training was real.

He attempts to lift up, a quick insufficient force warning beeps up in front of him.

Dumb holograms.

It feels pointless, but Damian tries anyway. He lifts up suddenly, throwing his entire body weight into it, and of course flies backwards because there's no real weight is actually keeping him here.

At least the man-hole cover appears to be slightly dislodged. He tenses his muscles and shoves slowly.

"I hope your dumb simulation knows I wouldn't have actually landed on my ass like that," Damian whispers as he finishes uncovering the opening.

But Grayson doesn't respond to that, he just says, "Quiet, the Gordanians will hear you."

"Tt. Lots of reptilians have poor hearing."

"So you're just assuming they have Earth-like reptilian anatomy because they look like Earth reptiles?"

Damian ignores him. He quickly gets as close to the hologram of the overpass as he can without pressing his body against it (to avoid falling over) and peeks around the corner.

As he predicted, none of the aliens – Gordanians, evidently – heard him. They're still watching the humans, scanning back and forth past the line of captives, guns in their hands. Suddenly, one of the humans seems to collapse in a heap. And old man, probably about 70. The man next to him, about 40 years younger, tries to catch him and holds him in his arms.

The nearest Gordanian approaches the men. He yells something in a language Damian doesn't understand and raises his gun.

It looks like he's going to shoot the man.

It doesn't matter what Damian will do here, he knows Grayson will judge it as wrong anyway. So he does what looks right – he throws a batarang straight at the Gordanian's gun and rushes up. The thing's aim is thrown off long enough for Damian to leap at it, and if it were real he would land on its chest but it's not so he falls through it's body. Imperfect simulation. The thing could have grabbed him if he landed on its chest, or he could have scrambled up behind its neck and choked it –

But that doesn't matter. He's working with what he has. So he takes a smoke bomb from his belt, chucks it at the ground, kicks the back of the alien's knee in and the alien reaches back to swipe at him –

A whoosh through the air of the projectile coming. Damian grabs it in the air, which the simulation reads as grabbing the alien's hand. He mimics what would be grabbing the alien's middle finger and the bottom side of its palm and throwing his weight back, breaking the things wrist regardless of how strong it is and quickly scoots back, leaving it confused and in pain in the smoke cloud.

The civilians.

They're coughing on the smoke. Not going to rescue themselves – and either way, they can't. They're tied up. Damian quickly stabs a batarang at the junction of the chains for the young and old man, the thing keeping them in line with the others.

"Go to the overpass," Damian says, and the holo-room must have pretty advanced audio sensors and voice recognition, because it detects that and they start off.

In the distance, the other Gordanians have noticed that their ally was under attack and are starting to head towards him, and the alien whose wrist he broke has gotten its bearings and started re-reaching for a weapon.

Damian attempts to grab the fallen Gordanian gun, but of course he can't – its a hologram.

He would be doing so much better in the real world.

Stick with what works then – a flash grenade at the next nearest Gordanian, about eight meters away, distracting them. He moves his position immediately – he had to stay still to throw, and he was just making himself a target. He slips back and jumps away from the line of civilians, drawing the alien's fire.

But he can't go back to his overpass for cover – that's where he told the civilians to go.

Next nearest place is a holographic car. 6 meters away. Damian can get to it before the Gordanians do – if he doesn't get shot on the way over.

He races, before they can adjust their aim to the fact that he's running drops to the ground and rolls and just barely ducks behind the car as a series of rubber bullets fly right past him. Unfortunately, the Gordanians from either side are approaching him and Damian really can't see a way to get out non-lethally –

Because you didn't have strategies earlier. Now you're supposed to.

The car. Right.

It's actually pretty hard to get gasoline to explode, but Damian doesn't have to get the car to explode. He just has to get inside it. He grabs a batarang and starts prying at where the window would be.

"I hope your stupid simulation reads that this would work," Damian says.

It must, because the window comes down an inch and Damian finishes "yanking" it all the way down and hops through. Now he's just... standing in the middle of a car.

The Gordanian in front of him takes aim at the windshield, Damian ducks down behind the dashboard. There's a simulated shattering of glass and a real barrage of rubber bullets above his head. Damian knows he's playing it fast with the non-lethal rules but figures the Gordanian can always drop it and risks lifting his head up from above the dashboard to throw an exploding batarang into the thing's gun. The batarang passes through the hologram hits the wall and –

Well, that section of the wall will just have to be damaged, then.

Now. Hotwiring a car. So easy he could do it as a child. Just – maybe not in the exact timeframe he has.

He starts his work on hotwiring it and the lack of feedback is disconcerting but not impossible to work with – he has all the necessary movements memorized. He's rewarded with the sound of an engine. Then, as the final Gordanian gets to the window and takes aim at his head, Damian stomps on where the gas would be.

The simulation disappears.

"I'm actually impressed," Grayson says.

"Tt. You should always be impressed when I work."

Damian exits the holo-room. At least he won this no-win situation. Sort of. He got the two civilians out, assuming they made it to the man-hole he uncovered.

"I'm serious, kiddo, good work," Grayson continues. "I actually didn't think everyone would be as alive at the end as they were."

"You lied. You said the situation would be impossible to win. Unless I didn't win because I didn't get all the civilians out."

It seemed like something Grayson would say, at least. But Grayson just shakes his head. "So, the scenarios we had today. What's the difference?"

"How many useless civilians I have to manage."

"Why's that make each situation different?"

Another series of questions. Grayson really likes questions. It'd be exceptionally easy to just demand the answer – to just say stop the games and just tell me. But Damian knows that's not the point of the exercise. Being told the right answer isn't the point.

"There's a lot higher chance of collateral damage if you have more civilians around," Damian says. "That's why you went further into the abandoned Devil's Square, rather than looking for help, when you were alone and injured, right?"

Grayson gives him a quick nod. "Exactly. And the people we fight often don't care about civilians at all. The worst kind think they're good hostages or distractions."

"Scum," Damian says, because he figures they can agree about that at least.

"And what's the difference between the second situation and the third?" Grayson asks. "They both had a lot of civilians."

"Well, I don't know Gordanian's combat capabilities – " No, that's probably not what he was asking. He was thinking of the civilians. "There was someone who was immediately about to die in the third one," Damian says.

"Correct on both accounts," Grayson says.

The over-the-top praise is suspicious. Not like Damian hasn't earned it. But Grayson was trying to set him up to fail earlier.

Damian takes off his domino mask and rubs his face quickly. He needs to look at something real, after the holo-room.

"So how does this relate to the civilian class you're supposed to be teaching?" Damian asks.

"You'll see," Grayson says. "You didn't have bad instincts, earlier. I mean about the second situation being too risky to just charge straight in."

Damian doesn't react. He doesn't know how to. He wishes Grayson would just be more consistent.

Grayson leans slightly forward in his chair and grabs his hands together. He tries to look Damian in the eye, but Damian looks away. He's not going to let Grayson get... whatever he wants.

"You said talking to me was a no-win situation earlier," Grayson says.

Ugh, Damian said a lot of things earlier. Why does Grayson have to focus on this one?

"I didn't mean to make you feel that way," Grayson continues uselessly. "You've got a lot of raw talent, why do you think – why do you think your dad wanted you to be Robin in the first place?"

But Damian doesn't know, because Father never told him. Father had only ever told him the reasons why he didn't trust him.

And when Damian glances back at Grayson, now it's Grayson who's staring at his hands like he did something wrong. Whatever. At least it got him to stop making sad-faces at Damian.

"It's a decision-making lesson, right?" Damian asks. "So the call is whether you decide to intervene immediately."

Grayson nods. "And what you take into account while making that decision. We already have the immediacy of the danger we've mentioned. Now, let's move onto the enemies. How do we know if there are too many?"

Damian sighs. He knows the answer – at least the answer that would always have been acceptable in the League. There are never too many enemies. He's the heir to Ra's Al Ghul. He has to find a way to be victorious no matter what.

But, he guesses, taking them down one-by-one was always an option. As Grayson suggested. Even though Damian initially assumed he'd want the civilians all rescued immediately.

It's tiring. Trying to find the right answer.

"How do you know which one's the right thing to do?" Damian asks. If Grayson's positioning himself as a teacher, at least he can explain.

Grayson exhales slightly. "You're gonna hate me for this, but honestly, sometimes you can't."

Damian scowls.

"That's not to say there's nothing you can do, if any of us believed there was nothing we could do we wouldn't be here. But sometimes you have to make a call between two seemingly risky or bad options. Like that last situation with the Gordanians – someone was going to die immediately, but you were pretty outnumbered, with a lot of potential collateral damage and an enemy you didn't know how to fight yet."

"Tt. I saved them anyway."

Grayson smiles. Why's he smiling? He said the situation was intended to trick Damian! "It's the alternate problem solving strategies we were working on earlier," Grayson says. He lifts his arm and then grimaces slightly. "When you were injured."

Damian nods.

"So the best you can do is what you did there," Grayson continues. "You knew it was risky but you wanted to save someone. So you kept the fire away from the civilians and then extracted yourself. And Damian – "

Grayson pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales sharply.

"What?"

Grayson looks up at him and stands up. He walks over to Damian and puts his hand on his shoulder.

Damian must have reacted, even though he wasn't intending to, because Grayson quickly withdraws his hand.

"I wouldn't have blamed you if you decided to not leave cover," Grayson says, like nothing happened. "If you decided the situation was too risky or... the chance of getting people out alive was too low and the chance of you getting killed was too high."

Damian steps back. Grayson's just yanking him around right now. He did something wrong, he did something right. He surpassed Grayson's expectations but should still know that inaction and failure are okay?

"What would you have done?" Damian asks. He's too angry, too frustrated to disguise it in his voice. It comes out half an octave lower than usual.

"Honestly... I would have tried the same thing you did," Grayson says. "Intervening."

"Then why do you expect me to do any different?"

"Because this isn't a 'how to act like Dick Grayson' lesson; it's just making sure you know all your options! And because – "

He stops himself from saying whatever he was going to say. He should make up his freaking mind.

"Because what?" Damian asks.

"Well you're allowed to care about my general safety, am I not allowed to care about yours?" Grayson asks.

"No," Damian says.

He doesn't know why he says it. He just does.

Grayson's eyebrows pitch up slightly in the middle out of concern. "Why not?"

"You said you weren't going to try to replace my parents."

Damian wishes he'd changed out of the Robin uniform earlier. He wants a quick retreat. Grayson's cornered him. But he can't go through the elevator up to the penthouse right now.

"Damian, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Grayson says. "But... people can care about you without trying to replace your mom and dad."

Liar.

Mother was the only one, and it was... insufficient. His training was incomplete, she told him he was ready when he wasn't, she knocked him out and stopped him from fighting alongside Father –

Father verbally insinuated he hated him, but he must have gotten over it. With the letter. He must have seen Damian's potential.

Damian ignores Grayson and heads over to the locker area and starts unlacing his boots. Don't think about it. Just get it over with, finish the situation –

A sigh on Grayson's part. Damian can tell he's debating whether to be annoying or not. To pester Damian and try to confuse him.

"We won't be very effective as Batman and Robin if I don't care if you get shot," Grayson says after a moment.

"You can care that much," Damian concedes. And finishes hanging his Robin uniform up in his locker.

Damian misses –

He blinks rapidly.

But he's not about to cry, not here.

So he just leaves the Batbunker.

And gets to the elevator.

All he has to do is keep things in check until he's in his room with the door locked.

And at least Grayson isn't following him.

The ride on the elevator up seems surreal and the lights seem to dance a bit and Damian knows that it's just whatever's wrong with him coming up. The thing that no one's allowed to see.

His weakness. He's not like Grayson; he doesn't put it on display.

So he goes past the living room, past Pennyworth who is sitting on the couch and reading and fortunately also doesn't bother him, and goes to his room and locks the door.

He checks and makes sure the curtains are shut – of course they are, they always are, leaving them open is just inviting someone to snipe you –

And walks over and sits down in the corner.

It feels like he's looking at someone else's hands fold on his lap. They don't really feel like his hands.

This is something Damian can't really admit to anybody.

But Damian misses being young.

He misses back before he knew what his duties were and it was just him and Mother sparring together on the island and he misses her putting kohl in his eyelashes and he misses her holding him in her arms and smoothing back his hair and he even misses her putting henna on him even though he's not supposed to because that's for girls and he's not a girl –

He squeezes his eyes shut.

And it's so dumb to get emotional about this because nothing bad even happened and it wasn't even like he didn't eventually finish the lesson; he did finish it and he surpassed expectations because that's what he always does.

And he's not going to cry or do anything that makes noise because Pennyworth or Grayson coming in would just –

Well they'd –

He doesn't know. But it wouldn't be good. At the bare minimum, it'd be humiliating.

So Damian just breathes slowly for the next thirty minutes, before starting on biology homework.