Grayson starts today´s training with a lesson on post-mortem examinations, special focus: bladed weaponry. It's not difficult – but Damian can't say the reason why. It's easy to recognize which angle the attacker presumably came from because he had made many such wounds himself. He was the attacker.

It's... strange. He won't lie. Thinking of what things would be like on the other end of his kills. When the corpses –

Victims –

Are all... bloodless. And there are just a bunch of experts – maybe even Batman and Robin – trying to figure out who would do such a terrible thing.

If Grayson's making any connection to Damian's past misdeeds, he doesn't say so. He just says, "This stuff is really important to learn, Damian. If you're working a case alone – which is your eventual goal, right – "

"Correct," Damian says dryly.

"Then you have to know how to analyze all the evidence. Leave no stone unturned. I know it's – I know it's kind of grisly – "

"It's not grisly," Damian says. He doesn't supply any more information because he knows that – well, Grayson might not wield it against him as a weapon, but he certainly wouldn't like it.

Damian tries to redirect the topic back to work. He points at the picture in front of him. Caucasian male, lacerations on the lateral surface of both forearms, amputation of three fingers on the right hand. "Defensive wounds," he says. "From fending off an attacker with a knife. He probably tried to grab the blade."

Grayson nods slowly. "Exactly," he says, and puts the photo back inside his folder. The lesson's being conducted on the couch; the folder's left on the coffee table.

"Who was he?" Damian asks.

"He, uh, isn't real," Grayson says. "I asked Oracle to computer-generate some bodies for us and then checked to make sure they worked myself. I didn't know if anyone would want their pictures being used in a lesson – "

"Why does it matter if they're dead?" Damian asks, even though he already knows what Grayson will say. Or at least, he suspects.

Grayson furrows his brow. At least this time he looks pensive, rather than concerned. "How people take care of the dead is very... human," he says. "Or maybe even pre-human. They've found neanderthal burial sites. Like it was intentional, out of respect."

Damian finds that hard to believe – about the neanderthals, at least. "Where's my father's body?"

The instant the question is out of his mouth, Damian knows he messed up – grief and remorse are a disease of the weak.

But the thought is also a mistake, because that's what Grandf – Ra's told him.

Grayson presses his lips together and exhales quickly –

and the brief expression of grief is so damned insulting because the man isn't even Grayson's father –

And then says, "In the vault."

"In the vault?!" Damian repeats. He doesn't know where that is, but he knows it doesn't sound like where you normally put your dead. It sounds like a feature of a bank.

Grayson pinches the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, uh... in the Batcave. It sounds bad..."

It does sound bad. And Damian was right there, right near Father, and he never knew –

But he wasn't near Father because Father wasn't really there and he'd never be there again. Pennyworth said it. He said that the body – Father – was too badly damaged for a Lazarus Pit to heal. That he was just... dead forever.

"We didn't want to get rid of him," Grayson says. "In case something came up in the investigation when we were making sure it was really him – everyone thought it was better to preserve his body. I guess Alfred didn't; he wanted him to be buried with his parents – but we'd have to fake Bruce Wayne's death to do that – "

"Can I see him?" Damian asks.

He doesn't know why he asks it; it won't do any good.

"Of course," Grayson says. "I... I should have taken you to see him earlier. But..."

He trails off and looks away again. He never wants to talk about Father. Especially lately.

"You know, he'd be proud of you," Grayson says. "Of everything you're doing."

Damian knows that. At least, he should know it. But it still doesn't explain why Grayson is so reticent around the topic.

Grayson stands up. "Come on," he says. "I'll drive you over there."

Damian's half tempted to cancel it – to say never mind, run away from it like a coward. But he's been tempted to do that too often lately. And maybe –

Maybe seeing Father will make things make sense.

Damian shakes his head. He's just – it almost feels disrespectful to see Father like this. Just in his regular everyday clothing. "I'll – I'll be there soon," he says, and rushes to his room to get changed. Even though Grayson wouldn't know why.

It doesn't matter, he has to keep trying to tell himself as he searches for the most formal thing he owns – he and Mother mostly packed civilian clothing when they were leaving the League, but even if they hadn't, he still doesn't know what he'd wear to a... funeral. Whatever you call this type of occasion. He hasn't been to one. It was never important to honor the death of any of the assassins in the League.

People die. You wage a war to destroy your enemies before they destroy you.

All Grandfather's rhetoric. It was easier for Damian to agree with it when it was pointless nobodies who'd died, when someone's death was always an assumed outcome of going into battle, when his grandfather hadn't yet betrayed him.

Mother was a bit different about death, whenever she spoke of it. Even back then, even before she was weak. She talked about his grandmother. She'd baked some pastries – makroudhs – she said her mother used to make her and sang him a song her mother used to sing to her. It was – back then, it didn't feel sad. Damian was too young to feel as if he had to do something about it or complete a mission, or act in a certain way... Mother just held Damian in her arms and said that her mother would have loved to meet him. Damian didn't have to do anything besides be there.

But right now, he does have to do something. At least, he feels as if he has to. But he can't think of what to do besides being respectful continuing Father's mission, so he just looks through his wardrobe.

The most formal item of clothing Damian currently has is one of the suits Pennyworth bought for him. It was very similar to what Father always wore, Pennyworth explained.

Damian puts it on and meets Grayson back in the main room. Pennyworth is there with them, and Damian can't help but wonder if Grayson summoned him.

The three of them wordlessly descend to the garage with the civilian cars. Damian can't even think of what to say; his throat feels tight.

He should have gotten this out of the way earlier. He should have asked earlier.

He mentally recites Father's letter on the way over. Damian, Honor the Wayne name. Your actions define you and your family. Go to the locker beside mine and enter DWR1. You've earned this, Father.

If Grayson and Pennyworth weren't here – if Damian were alone – he could practice saying it out loud in Father's voice. Just to... see if it sounded right. But impersonating Father at this stage would seem like a mockery, an insult.

Honor the Wayne name.

He has been doing that, hasn't he? He's never not honored his family's name, except maybe when he was fleeing to avoid being Ra's' vessel. But he wasn't really the traitor to the name there; Grandfather was.

Your actions define you and your family.

Again, something he's always been aware of. He'd heard it since the day he was born. It was just... a different family now. Different appropriate actions.

He hasn't killed anyone since the bank robber. Since Grayson gave him more training on ending things non-lethally. He wonders if Father would be proud, but he suspects he wouldn't. The fact that it would ever have happened would offend him, did offend him. Father hadn't killed anyone in over 40 years of life; he seemed horrified that Damian couldn't remember how many he'd killed in just 10.

You've earned this.

He did. He was more competent than any of the others Father took in to train. A better Robin. A better fighter, period.

He'll just... never get to hear it. Not from Father.

No one speaks on the way to Wayne Manor; Pennyworth and Grayson seemed mostly content to let Damian think. Each of them seems similarly somber, mouths pressed into thin lines, shoulders high with tension.

Once they park in the garage, Pennyworth opens Damian's door and stands back. Damian gets out, again without saying anything.

Pennyworth opens up the manor.

As it does every time, going in the place seems weird, and it's suddenly clear why Grayson decided to abandon the place in favor of the penthouse. The place is still empty and the lights are still turned off; it still feels like breaking into a place he shouldn't be breaking into.

Pennyworth opens up a wall-clock, and the three of them descend into the Batcave. It's easier there – at least the Batcave has been used for training. Even if it is also where Father accomplished most of his significant feats.

Grayson turns the lights on as they enter the Batcave. The place feels emptier without Cain, Brown, or Gordon, even though Damian would never say that.

"Where's the vault?" Damian says, finally breaking the silence.

"I'll show you," Grayson says.

"Master Damian," Pennyworth begins. He's got some sad look on his face, the same one Grayson had earlier. "You need to be warned: your father isn't going to look like you remember him. His body was – "

"Damaged too badly for the Lazarus Pits to repair," Damian says. "I know."

Pennyworth nods somberly.

"What should I be expecting?" Damian asks.

"Mostly bone," Pennyworth continues.

Damian swallows and his hands clench in fists. He doesn't know why.

Life is a battlefield. Good people meet horrible fates the same as bad ones.

It shouldn't mean anything.

Grayson takes a small step towards Damian, so Damian takes a big step back. "I'm ready now," Damian says. "I've seen dead bodies and bones before. It won't be... shocking."

Grayson nods, and starts walking to the far end of the cave. The same place a lot of the weapons were stored. He presses a panel in the wall and says what sounds like gibberish – zur en arr – but Damian still memorizes the sounds in case he needs to access the voice-lock later. A hole in the wall opens up and a cold breeze rushes out.

Grayson steps inside, and gestures Damian further in. Damian follows. As far as he can tell, they're in a small room, about two times as wide as a sedan, and on the far wall is a gray metal... coffin? oriented upright.

Grayson touches the coffin gingerly. "Your dad is in here," he says. "You don't – you don't have to open it. You can just talk to him, like you're at his grave."

But Damian can't talk to him, not really. Father's body is in there, but Father himself would never return.

"Can you open it?" Damian asks. He doesn't know why. It doesn't really matter. At least, it shouldn't.

"If you think that would help you get closure," Grayson says.

Damian scowls. He doesn't know what closure has to do with this. His father's life already ended, how more closed can it be?

Grayson taps a button on the upright coffin and it slides open. Inside, sitting upright with his arms across his chest like a pharaoh, is Father's body. Exactly as Pennyworth described it. Mostly bone and scraps of cloth. Still in his Batman uniform.

Damian waits to feel something besides the general discomfort of the situation. To feel... some type of assurance that he's doing the right thing. Some type of... approval. Maybe even love.

Nothing comes.

"Do you want a moment to speak with him alone, Master Damian?" Pennyworth asks from the hall – he never entered the small room Grayson had.

Damian just nods. He doesn't know if it will help. But he does know that if there is any type of emotional reaction, he doesn't want witnesses.

Grayson steps out of the room and shuts the door behind him. Leaving Damian alone with... whatever's left of Father.

This is so, so dumb. Damian can't speak with him because he's not there. But he can't help but try.

"Father," he says out loud. The word seems to be swallowed up by the room, taunting him with its emptiness.

"I'm Robin now," he says again. "Just like you wanted."

Still nothing but cruel silence.

"Grayson's not entirely incompetent at filling your shoes."

…

"Overly emotional, though."

The more Damian speaks, the more foolish he feels. He can't think of how to not feel foolish, besides leaving.

Whatever Mother did with him when he was younger – that simply wouldn't be appropriate right now. Grayson or Pennyworth wouldn't make Father's food or sing to him and if they tried Damian would stab them. Besides, those weren't Father things. They were Mother things. If he were approaching Father...

The level of formality almost makes him feel as if he should try what he did for Ra's Al Ghul. Damian saw his grandfather much more seldomly than Mother, mostly when he sent Damian out on missions or monitored his training or explained his ideology and their goals.

Damian tries. He gets down on one knee and puts his forehead to his hand, in the stupid insulting salute Grandfather used to make him do, but it doesn't mean anything. It just makes him feel sick to his stomach.

He stands back up quickly and brushes off his knees, as if that can brush off the shame of what just happened.

He knocks on the door, telling Grayson to open it up again. When it does open, Grayson and Pennyworth still have... pained expressions on their faces. Grayson had his hand on Pennyworth's shoulder and Pennyworth was frowning slightly and –

Why can these people express so much more emotion for Damian's father – for his own blood – than Damian can?

"I'm done," Damian says.

Grayson walks past him and shuts the coffin Father was in.

"Are you... feeling all right?" Pennyworth asks tentatively.

Damian hates it. "Why would I not be feeling all right?"

"Your father – "

"Isn't there," Damian says, interrupting him. "Not anymore."

"He would be proud of you," Pennyworth says. "Especially now."

The same thing that Grayson said. But it still feels false. Or more of, it feels unknown. Which is even more frustrating. Damian never extracted the reason for Father's change of heart in life, and it's only incredibly clear that he'll never extract it in death, either.

But Damian can't say that, so he just says, "I know." Even if it's a lie.