This is not something Damian is 'supposed' to think, so he keeps it to himself.
But he's glad Grandfather's getting involved in Gotham.
It's only a shame he's no doubt going to be acting through an agent, some sycophant who would die for him. Damian wants Grandfather here. He wants to confront him without Mother removing him from the encounter like a helpless child, he wants –
He wants to hurt the man enough he won't ever be tempted to refer to him as Grandfather again. Not even in his head, where no one can hear it.
Cain being here is a problem. She won't let him do anything. At least not anything she views as 'excessive violence'. Damian doesn't understand. The swifter and more mercilessly you ended the fight, the better a demonstration is served to your enemies. Being merciful – gentle even – is a weakness your enemies will not demonstrate to you.
He thought she'd get that. Given their upbringings. But she's somehow managed to forget all of hers but the fighting skills.
… He doesn't know whether that's fortunate or just sad.
Damian speeds most of the way to Wayne Tower. Getting around the near rush-hour traffic is a pain. It involves way more borrowing the other lane, swerving between cars, and brief forays onto unoccupied parts of the sidewalk than he'd like. He can tell it's way more than Cain would like as well, as she's stiff as a board behind him.
He wonders why she's not insistent on driving, considering how bossy she was about everything else.
Damian knows this isn't the most subtle way to approach the battlefield. Even if it's less obvious than his Batmobile, it's still pretty obvious.
It shouldn't be too hard to cover the last two hundred meters on foot. That way they'd be close to a quarter of a kilometer away. Still technically in the view of someone with an appropriate sniper's perch, though.
Damian parks in an alley and hops off.
"Good thinking," Cain says, as she gets off the vehicle as well.
"We should split up."
Cain frowns. "Less good thinking."
This is so dumb. They can cover more ground if they split up. She's just being overprotective – probably because Grayson asked her to be!
"One of us needs to make sure there's no assassins in the building," Damian says. "The other needs to check for potential sniper spots. I'd be more logical for the second objective."
"... I know how to snipe."
"Yes, but you don't have any field experience."
"That's a good thing."
Ugh, no matter what he says, she'll twist it so she's better than him. He figures he might as well lean into her perception of him and just says, "Not right now."
He takes out a grapple and starts preparing to leave. Faster than he can see, she reaches out and grabs his wrist. Damian hates it. He starts twisting his hand, turning the pinkie side of his fist to the weak spot in her wrist grab, where her thumb meets her fingers, but she anticipates the action and twists his hand back.
There's an unwelcome spike of adrenaline, and Damian has to fight back his instinct to just throw himself at her with a flurry of eye-gouges and palm heel strikes, to remove himself from captivity as quickly as possible. It wouldn't end well.
Cain releases his wrist. "I didn't mean to scare you – "
"I wasn't scared," Damian says loudly.
Too loud. The adrenaline is still running around his veins.
"I'm just doing my job. You should do yours," he says, and shoots the grapple gun at the top of the building.
Cain doesn't try to stop him, physically. That's good.
It should be expected.
Damian lands on the roof. He starts scanning – north, south, east, west. To find the best perch, he's going to need to know where the target usually is.
"Which face of the building is Fox's office?" Damian asks Gordon over comms.
"East," Gordon says. "But we have some more intel on the assassin for you."
Damian hops to the next rooftop over. "Go ahead."
"It's likely Deathstroke. Unless he's a distraction."
Talk about overkill. Damian's heard about the man, but never met him. Mother said that his combination of experience, technology, and meta-powers made him a formidable foe.
Cain's reaction is different. She just says, "Shit."
… Damian hasn't heard her swear before.
"I'm glad that you'll be cautious," Gordon begins.
"Robin, get back here," Cain says over comms.
Nice try. Damian keeps putting distance between them. He can't work with her distracting him.
"You two split up?!" Grayson. Uselessly worried as usual.
"He left," Cain says, voice hard. "What do you want me to do? Knock him out?"
It would be the last thing you ever do, but Damian doesn't say that. He just hooks a grapple to the rooftop and lets himself slide down a few meters, just enough to not be immediately visible if Cain started scanning for him. Then, he takes out his binoculars.
"Robin, go back to Batman, now," Grayson orders helplessly.
"Okay, we're not panicking in the field," Gordon says. "I'm getting Batgirl involved – "
"Batgirl can't fight Deathstroke," Grayson says.
Doesn't he get tired of talking when no one's listening?
"No one's fighting Deathstroke if we do this right," Gordon says. "We need to move Lucius to a safe place. Make ourselves proactive, rather than reactive. And we can avoid a fight in a building full of civilians."
"... I'll let him know someone wants to kill him." Cain says reluctantly.
"There's a backup bunker," Gordon says. "We can use it as a temporary safe house."
So far, Damian is not seeing anyone in the places he would use to snipe. Granted, some of the windows are dark and hard to see in – which would be intentional if there was someone there. He's also acutely aware that if he can see them, they could see him.
He really needs better cover. His current position was to avoid being spotted by Cain, not by someone who might kill him.
It's... insubordination, technically. That's how it'd be referred to in training. But normally, he's the one people have to worry about being... insubordinate to. And when he did have to follow orders, when carrying out Grandfather's missions...
He did so unquestioningly. Acting like a puppet. The only time he made modifications was to improve them, or go above and beyond the already high expectations of him. And Grandfather always said Well done or you make me proud or you are my most valuable weapon and Damian ate up the praise like an idiot.
He'd be lying, though, if he said there wasn't a part of him that misses it, that misses coming home from a mission and only hearing he did well, not that he was too rough or too violent or too uncontrolled...
… just too much in general.
"Robin, you need to help Batman," Gordon says over comms.
"I am helping. I'm checking for snipers." Damian puts his binoculars away, though. He might as well at least get out of his disadvantageous position.
"This is a team, Robin," Grayson says. At least he seems to have gotten a handle on his emotional issues. He's talking more like Batman. "You can't do whatever you want. We're only effective if we're working together."
Damian knows that he's right. An army works better under a clear leader; that's why there's a chain of command. But Father's people are neither capable of commanding him nor of acquiescing to being commanded by him.
Respect demands strength. Not just fighting prowess, but a ruthlessness that none of them possess – not even Cain, who should have had all the mercy, hesitation, and weakness stomped out of her during training, as he was of his. Even she couldn't be ruthless.
Machiavelli said it – ideally, one should be both feared and loved, but the bonds of love are easy to break should sufficient danger arrive, whereas the fear of punishment is always effective. And none of Father's people are capable of instilling fear in allies.
"I have Fox," Cain says over comms. "Robin. Get the vehicle ready. Meet in the garage. Less people there."
Damian squeezes his eyes shut. He's letting himself get off his mission.
He makes his way back to the quad-bat. He's not sure if he'll be able to drive it with three people on it. Two was pushing it.
…
And, he realizes, he's not sure there's a subtle way to get this thing into Wayne Tower's garage. The entrances are all public.
But he does have a better idea.
For the better idea to work, the garage not being public doesn't matter. In fact, the more people who see this the better.
Damian pulls up to the entrance. He resists the temptation to drive straight through the yellow stick that indicates vehicles should stop before presenting their IDs. Besides, breaking in Father's property would just feel... disrespectful.
Even if it's his civilian property.
The guardsman at the booth looks Damian up and down, somewhat befuddled.
"I'm on official business!" Damian says. "Let me in!"
The man hits a button and the yellow arm raises.
Hm. Lousy security. Anyone could have dressed up in a superhero uniform and said it was important.
But, Damian figures anyone could also just drive through the flimsy arm. There's not a lot of protection here.
There are a few civilians in the garage – four, all standing and talking. Useless. And they're going to make it harder for Damian's plan to work!
The elevator door on the far side of the garage opens and dings. Cain steps out, and Lucius Fox follows her. Damian recognizes him from his first visit here.
Damian walks straight up to Fox. "You have some authority here, right?"
Fox looks puzzled. He glances between Cain and Damian, and then asks, "Please, tell me – is this about Tam? Did you find her?"
Damian resists the temptation to wince. Right. Of course he'd be worried about that. He's a civilian; his daughter's presumably a civilian. He can't just trust that she'll take care of herself. But Damian can't answer the question the way the man wants. "It's about you. Tell those people to get out of here."
"If you could please," Fox says to his subordinates.
They look awkwardly between the three – Cain, Damian, Fox – and quickly head up to the stairs.
Cain starts towards the quad-bat, and gestures Fox forward. "Let's go," she says.
Damian shakes his head and plants his feet. Not before they take his idea!
"We're leaving a trail with assassinate me written on it in neon if we leave like this!" Damian says.
"'Assassinate me'?!" Fox repeats.
Damian ignores him, continuing: "It's rush hour. It's daytime. People saw us enter."
Cain frowns. "Why did you let that happen?"
"Ugh, you try getting a giant motorcycle in a public place subtly!" She's blaming him. But he won't let her distract him.
Damian starts scanning the lot. "Is there any car here that's been here for a while?" he asks. "One that won't be missed if it's not here at the end of the workday."
"Well, my car won't be missed – " Fox begins.
"Not your car; that's still a target!"
Fox presses his lips together slightly. "You can't steal an employee's car."
"We'll return it by tomorrow."
He still looks displeased.
Cain points out a sports car sitting in a spot. "What about that one?"
"Wayne's? He already left in a limo," Fox says.
Cain nods sharply at Robin.
Hm. Stealing Father's property. But it's not like it's more of an insult than has already happened – Elliot was probably the last one using it when he was in his inane Bruce Wayne facade; as far as Damian's concerned, he's returning the car to its rightful owners.
… And Father's car will work well, since Damian thinks most of them have darkened windows, to allow for more privacy.
Damian starts trying to pick the lock on the car when there's a looming presence behind him and a tap on his shoulder. Cain handing him something. It looks like a small electronic device, about the size of someone's eyeball.
"New cars have electronic locks," she says.
Of course. "I knew that," Damian says, and places the device on the handle.
There's a beep, and Damian swings the door open.
"Drive to the location I tell you to," Damian says to Fox. "Batman and I will draw the attention of anyone who might have been following you."
Fox just looks between the two of them again. "You still haven't told me what this is about," he says.
"And we still shouldn't leave him alone," Cain says. "Someone wants to kill him."
"My plan involves avoiding the target even getting near assassins," Damian says.
"Excuse me, 'the target'?" Fox asks.
"Make a decision fast," Gordon says. "Standing around and debating it isn't going to solve anything."
Cain looks between Damian and Fox, then nods sharply and gestures inside the car to Fox. "We'll explain soon," she says. "I promise."
Damian tells Fox the address for the nearest backup bunker, and adds, "Someone will let you in. Don't try to bypass security."
"...Right," Fox says, and gets in the car.
Cain walks over to the quad-bat. "I'll have to drive," she says.
She must have already picked up on the plan, then. And Damian...
Well, in this part, his role is a little humiliating. He just has to appear to be an adult-sized silhouette sitting in front of her, wrapped in her cape, to make it look like she's taking Fox away.
Damian slides in front of Cain and grabs the handlebars, just so he doesn't go flying off.
"I hope you know how to drive this thing," he says.
Cain looks down at him. She looks extremely unamused.
Whatever.
Cain lets her cape fall over her arms, and Damian pulls it to himself as close as possible. He sticks out his arms at the elbow, trying to increase the size of his silhouette. It's uncomfortable. And awkward to have someone as dangerous as Cain at his back, especially when she's been less than reliable in the past. But she's at least professional enough she won't compromise the mission – at least not if she can also fulfill the babysitting duty she promised to Grayson.
Undignified.
Cain starts driving. The sudden lurch of acceleration is more uncomfortable when he's not in charge, when he just has to hope that she does everything right.
At least, awkwardly bundled up inside her cape, it's slightly warmer.
Cain weaves in and out around the traffic, taking as many side-streets and alleys as possible. Getting them away from potential collateral damage.
She moves slightly; Damian can tell something changed. "Someone's following us," she says.
Just as planned. The goal was to lure the assassin out, tricking him into thinking that his target was here.
Cain's in the disadvantageous position here – if someone tries to shoot him, her body would be blocking the bullets. The only consolation of his otherwise defenseless position.
The quad-bat turns rapidly; Damian's inertia would have thrown him off the cycle were it not for his grip on the handlebars and Cain's arm blocking the way. Then Cain stops the cycle suddenly and stands up – as she does, she keeps the cape flared, blocking both the assassin's view of Damian and Damian's view of the assassin.
That's not very fair.
Damian hops down on the ground and rolls away. By time he's back to his feet, ready to fight, Cain's already slack, out of a fighting stance –
Why –
And the assassin –
Isn't an assassin.
It's Drake. In his new costume.
Drake barely seems to glance between the two of them. "Where's Lucius?" he asks.
"Safe," Damian says. "Why are you even here?"
Drake ignores him completely. To Cain, he says, "I know you're not... the other one."
Cain takes down her cowl.
Idiot! Just because this turned out to be Drake doesn't mean there aren't other potential assassins waiting for them.
No one up on top of the roofs surrounding their alley, as far as Damian can see. But still...
"Ro – Ti – Red Robin," Cain says, stumbling over her words.
She was going to call him Robin. As soon as the false son comes back, everyone's going to do it. The best Robin, who never killed anyone, who never has to be told to tone it down in combat...
And Damian's not going to let it happen.
He steps forward, gesturing at Drake. He lets the challenge be evident in his stance. "Why did you even come back to Gotham, Drake? We don't need you here. You should go back to whatever rock you were hiding under."
"Tim's here?" Gordon asks over comms.
Damian knew it. There it is.
Drake looks at Damian once, dismissively, then back to Cain. "Look, Cass, I really don't have time to get into it but – "
"Make time," Damian says.
"Shh," Cain says.
She just shushed him! Who does she think she is?!
"Okay, we're not going to argue in public," Grayson says. "How about everyone make sure you're not being followed and get to the temporary safehouse – uh, the backup bunker."
"We weren't going to argue," Drake says.
Cain pulls her cowl back up. "Oracle," she says. "Check any security cameras near us. Please."
"I'm on it," Gordon says.
Cain and Drake each start scanning the scenery as Damian was. And at least this part is simple. Despite Drake's unwanted intrusion.
The simplest part of going on patrol with Cain is that she just lets them work.
The three of them can just grapple between rooftops, checking the shadows for anyone lurking there, getting updates from Gordon over comms, and outside of the updates from nearby security cameras no one says anything.
There's no stifling attempt to turn it into a lesson. No "what did we do here? Why did it work?" – the endless interrogation that Damian knows serves a purpose but still gets on his nerves. The silent efficiency is reminiscent of his missions in the League... but he knows that telling Cain that would offend her. As all of Father's people become offended should Damian insinuate that the training is in any way similar to what he used to do.
The trip takes twice as long as it normally does, due to the careful losing of potential tails, but eventually they do arrive to the backup bunker. And when they do –
Brown – as Batgirl – is already there, sitting on the hood of Father's car, and next to her is Grayson... but not as Batman. He's in the blue and black costume with no cape or cowl. Nightwing, he called it.
Damian scowls. "Nightwing? What are you doing here?"
"Helping, obviously," Grayson says. "Lucius is in the back room, talking to Oracle via the computer. She's telling him what's going on – at least, what we know about."
Grayson is almost intentionally avoiding looking at Drake. Damian doesn't know why. He should just get it over with and admit he's glad he's back.
"You don't have to worry about this," Drake says. "I have it under control."
Grayson, Brown, and Cain all exchange a look and Damian is struck again with the feeling he had when he was at Father's house the first time. The feeling that he's an unwelcome outsider.
"And what is 'this'?" Brown asks. "Because last time I saw you, uh, 'control' is not exactly how I'd define it..."
Drake presses his lips together. "I'm in Gotham because I have work here; not for another one of Dick's interventions."
"And what is the work?" Damian repeats. They're all just talking around him. Treating him like – like some inconsequential nobody!
Drake glances briefly at Damian, but then focuses on Grayson. Again.
Damian balls his hands in fists.
"I know that one of Ra's' agents – plus an outside assassin – "
"Outside assassin?" Cain asks. "Not League of Shadows?"
Drake nods.
Unwillingly, Damian's breath speeds up slightly in his chest. He doesn't even know why; it's not even a combat situation, people are just talking.
"Where'd you get this intel?" Grayson asks, finally speaking to Drake.
"I have my sources," Drake says, annoyingly vague.
Brown throws her hands up. "Oh boy," she says. "Can we fast forward through the macho-posturing and get to the part where we just deal with this together?"
"'Macho posturing'?" repeats Drake, offended.
Damian smirks.
"Stephanie, this isn't a joke," Drake says. "It's serious."
Damian scowls. Not because he's wrong. Because he's right. About it being serious at least.
But Brown's not the one treating it as a joke here as she usually does; she's just pointing out that posturing won't do anything good. Again, a reason why they need a clear chain of command.
Cain steps forward, hands up palm-out, in the insulting pantomime of surrender Grayson does all the time when he's talking to Damian. "Ro – Red Robin," she says slowly. "You need our help with some of this."
"Which one of you is trying to be Batman, anyway?" Drake asks.
Grayson speaks: "Right now, think of it as a split-custody agreement. But I'm coming off an injury and need to be at the top of my game if I come across Deathstroke. That means escrimas and no capes."
Hypocrite. Not as if he shouldn't be back in the field – he should, when he was trying to give commands over comms he was ineffective and uncomfortable and he looked like a coward – but he made Damian stay in the whole time he was injured. "What about your injury?" Damian asks.
"We're two days away from three weeks and – "
"And nothing!" Damian says. "You made me stay in the whole time!"
Grayson frowns slightly. "But you went out a day early, anyway."
How'd he know?!
"Whatever," Damian says.
"Sounds like you've got everything under control here," Drake says sarcastically. "You keep an eye on Lucius – "
Cain shakes her head sharply. "Tell us about the other assassin. Please."
Drake sighs and pulls down his mask. He looks tired – more pallid than usual, with deep bags under his eyes. "Okay," he says. "I don't know which ones it will be; they just haven't sent more than one after each target. Someone's targeting assassins in the League of Shadows. Killing them."
Good.
It shouldn't be good; it shouldn't feel like anything. It's not like whoever is doing this is actually going to get to Ra's; and even if they could, Damian wouldn't want them to –
– but it still feels good.
"That's what we should be doing," Damian says.
Drake ignores Damian for the fourth time and looks at Dick. "I thought he wasn't killing anyone."
"I mean we should arrest them," Damian says, forcing the words through clenched teeth. "Obviously."
Finally, Drake deigns to acknowledge his existence. "It wasn't actually obvious in your case."
Everyone speaks at once.
Grayson: "Hey, Robin's been doing really well – "
Cain: "I've seen his control – "
Brown: "Come on, lay off – "
"Seriously?!" Damian yells.
Unfortunately, Drake also yells the same thing at the same time. Damian glowers at the adolescent, who glowers right back at him.
"All three of you?" Drake asks. He almost sounds betrayed.
"I don't require defense from a teenage amateur detective's harsh words," Damian says.
Brown pinches the bridge of her nose. "Okay, you're not helping."
"No one is," Grayson says. His voice lowers, possibly unintentionally, and he speaks louder. "We've got – whatever interpersonal issues there are, they'll have to wait."
Damian sniffs. It's not his fault. "I don't have any interpersonal issues!"
"We all do," Grayson says. Admitting fault. Admitting weakness. "We just can't let it derail us. Red Robin, these um, assassins of assassins? For the League of Shadows... how do you even know about them?"
Drake looks first at Grayson, then at Damian, then at Cain. "I can't give you all the details, but I have an inside source."
"Talia?" Grayson asks.
Drake looks genuinely confused. "I thought she left the League."
"She might be keeping an eye on her father's operations," Grayson suggests. "She did seem pretty... worried about him earlier."
No wonder she was worried about Grandfather. If he saw how she changed –
But even pre-Nanda Parbat, even before Mother demonstrated weakness, Damian doesn't know if Grandfather would fear her the same way other people should have. She was – both he and Mother were – disturbingly loyal.
"We should lure Deathstroke out," Cain says. At least she's staying on mission. "Deal with him. Then find the assassin-assassin."
Grayson frowns. "Oracle wanted to avoid a fight with Deathstroke – "
"And just hope he goes away?" Cain asks.
"There are probably other ways to deal with him," Grayson says. "I've bought him off before."
"That's stupid," Damian says. "No freelance assassin would damage his reputation by allowing himself to be bought off. No one would hire you if they didn't have any reason to believe you'd complete the mission!"
"Well, the contract was only thirty-kay," Grayson says. "It's possible he only took it to fu – er, mess with me."
"So I can go into combat but not hear the word 'fuck'?"
Cain shifts her weight slightly from one foot to the other. Subtle, but unmistakable. She's restless – or ready to fight.
Damian can't blame her.
"I, er, agree with Damian," Drake says hesitantly. "I don't think buying him off is going to work."
"He probably wants us to know he's here," Dick says. "That's why he didn't even try to hide his face from the camera's in Gotham Airport. He thinks he has an honor code."
Drake nods. Again hesitantly.
He knows something, Damian's sure of it. But he also knows that confronting him might just make the others take Drake's side.
"So he wants a fight," Cain says. She punches a fist into her open hand. "Let's give him one."
Grayson sighs and looks at Damian. "You wanted to take point on some of this, right? Due to your... experience?"
"You've got to be kidding!" says Drake.
Now, it's Damian's turn to ignore the teenager's outburst. "That's right," he says. Pointedly to Grayson and not to Drake.
"So, walk me through it," Grayson says. "The person you were going to, um, kill," Grayson stumbles over the word, "disappeared and is presumably in a well-guarded location that you don't know where is. How do you get them out into the open? What might Deathstroke's next move be?"
Damian thinks. He's had well-guarded targets, but they normally started that way. Rather than the plan changing in the middle of the mission. And honestly, he also had advantages that Deathstroke didn't have – due to how young he was when he carried out most of his kills, he didn't really set off alarms if he wanted to investigate a place in civilian-disguise. On at least one occasion, he'd been invited into the building the target was hiding in, because the people working there mistook him for a lost child in need of assistance.
Damian doesn't provide the others with these details – especially now that Drake is here. Ready to use anything Damian says or does as evidence that he's outright evil. A violent criminal just like any other Batman and Robin would fight.
"Most targets aren't isolated entities," he says. "They have friends. Family."
"So you took someone's family hostage?" Drake asks.
Damian scowls. "Don't dislocate your shoulder with your reaching. I don't involve civilians if I don't have to. Besides, that just leaves more evidence – more of a trail." At least, that was how Mother explained it on the very few instances she taught him about assassination etiquette. But Damian normally had other instructors for those missions. "But most people can't resist calling their families or letting them know where they went, and you can trace the call and track them down."
"I'm sure Oracle has told Lucius not to call his family," Grayson says. "But Deathstroke might use them as hostages."
"You said he perceived himself as honorable," Damian says. Because as far as he could tell, using civilians as hostages was one of the least honorable things you could do.
"You have to know how his mind works," Grayson says. "He knows we'd come to save them so he wouldn't believe he'd have to follow through – and if we didn't come and he killed them, it would be our fault for not taking him seriously, knowing he's a killer."
"I don't think Deathstroke is going to take the Foxes hostage," Drake says.
"Based on what evidence?" Grayson asks.
Drake sighs.
"Tim," Cain prompts him. "Spit it out. Let us help."
Drake looks around the room – first at Cain, then Grayson, then Brown, then Damian. "Okay, I've been working a case against the League of Shadows – "
"Alone?" Grayson asks.
"Would you have actually come if I needed you?" Drake asks.
Grayson winces.
Damian doesn't know why Grayson is allowing the teenager to affect him so much.
"I would have come," Cain says.
"I know, Cass – "
"Get back to the evidence you had," Damian says. He'll feel more comfortable when they're on the mission. Not dealing with...
Everyone else's 'interpersonal issues', as Grayson called them.
"Ra's already has a Fox hostage," Drake says. "He has Tam. I'm trying to figure out a way to extract her – "
"And where is she now?" Grayson asks.
"Did you leave a civilian in my grandfather's custody?!" Damian asks. He can't believe Drake is acting like he's the amoral one here!
"The instant I see a way to do it, I'll extract her, but for now I'm not about to launch myself on some half-assed rescue mission that will get us both killed!" Drake snaps. "My point is that if the League wanted to use Lucius's family to get to him, they'd be doing it."
"We take Deathstroke out, deal with the assassin-assassin, rescue Tam," Cain says, repeating her earlier plan with an additional step.
"Cain's right," Damian says. "All of this discourse is both pointless and exhausting."
"Tim," Cain says, and jerks her head to the side. Signaling she wants to talk to him in private.
Whatever.
The two of them walk off slightly and Damian feels a little tension leave his stance. It shouldn't happen. It shouldn't affect him like this.
"You know," Brown says, sliding up to him. "I hear saying sorry goes a long way."
"'Sorry'?" Damian asks. "I didn't do anything."
"You tried to kill him."
Damian scowls. That was months ago. It hardly matters anymore. And even if –
Even if he wouldn't do it now, he's still not about to apologize to the teenager. He's not going to admit error. Especially since...
"He thinks I'm a monster," Damian says.
"He might not if you apologized," Brown says. "If he knew you understood that it was wrong."
Damian just scowls some more.
"It's just something to think about," Brown says and smiles slightly. "You know, a little bit of advice. Us kids-of-supervillains got to stick together."
What is the point of this attempted familiar interaction? "My mother isn't a supervillain."
"Okay, what is she then, smartypants?"
Damian cringes at the infantile word. "Why can't you just say 'smartass' like a normal person?" But he answers her question: "My mother didn't have any ostentatious themes. She was a professional. Not an adult who dresses up and leaves clues around in some sort of silly game."
Brown sighs slightly. She looks at Grayson and says, "I assume we're all taking five? I'm going to go call my mom and make up some excuse about hanging out with a friend."
And then she, too, leaves.
It feels awkward to admit this, but Damian feels better with Grayson as the only one in ear-shot. Him being Nightwing – rather than his civilian identity – means that hopefully his uncomfortable emotional outbursts are restrained, and at least the man didn't think he was a monster.
"You're quitting Batman," Damian says.
"What makes you say that, Robin?" Grayson asks, taking a few steps towards him.
Damian can't believe he has to explain this. "You slipped back into your old identity the instant you and Cain were on the same mission."
"Yeah, because I don't want to fight Deathstroke – who is a pretty good swordsman – with my bare hands when I can use escrimas. And to avoid any dual Batman confusion." Grayson reaches a hand out towards Damian, but thankfully thinks better of it before touching him and lets it fall to his side. "What's this actually about?"
Why won't he believe Damian that it's 'actually about' what he said it was about?! Why does the man think he knows Damian better than Damian knows himself?!
But...
Damian walks as far away from the others as he can. He doesn't want any of them to overhear.
He wishes Grayson spoke Arabic. Then people wouldn't be able to understand if they did overhear. And then –
Then maybe he'd have some continuity from home besides the training and fighting.
Damian crosses his arms across his chest. He knows his shoulders are tense, he knows Grayson can read his body language well enough to tell he's 'uncomfortable', he just hopes the man can resist his incessant attempts at replacing Mother even if maybe it's what she wanted because maybe she doesn't want him anymore because she had a choice but she contacted Grayson instead of him.
"I figured you'd be happier that Drake was back," Damian says, unable to keep the anger out of his voice. Again, he knows he's giving Grayson too much to go off. That if he was back in the League, Mother would remind him not to talk to her in 'that tone' and Grandfather –
Well, he'd never have tried to use it with Grandfather.
"It doesn't sound like Tim's intending on staying back," Grayson says. He speaks a little slower than usual. He's thinking. "And I'm not going to lie to you. I am glad to see him again. But it doesn't mean anything for us, Damian. We're still – nothing's changing."
"Liar," Damian says and looks up and down Grayson's Nightwing uniform, hoping the man gets the message.
"It's temporary," Grayson says. "You want me to go get the Batman outfit? Would that make you feel better?"
There's almost an uncomfortable pleading note in Grayson's voice and why does the man have to be so emotional?!
"No," Damian says. He exhales slowly. He needs to – he needs to not act like Grayson. "I don't want you to hinder yourself in combat against a dangerous foe."
"I – I appreciate that, Damian," Grayson says. But he doesn't look like he does. He's frowning slightly. "I know it's a stressful situation – "
"It's not," Damian says. Why does Grayson always say that?
"Maybe I misinterpreted," Grayson says.
Coward. But Damian doesn't fight him on it. He doesn't want to do what Grayson does. He doesn't want to argue about dumb interpersonal emotional issues or whatever everyone else was calling them.
"Drake's a liability," Damian says. "He has too many issues."
Grayson frowns again. "I'll make sure you and Tim don't go out without a buffer – ideally, you won't go out together at all."
Non-committal. Refusing to admit that it's Drake who's the problem, which is the same as taking Drake's side. He'd probably like working with the teenager better, anyway, considering how clearly uncomfortable he was with Damian's past actions in the League of Shadows.
Just like Father.
Damian digs his fingers into his arms, trying to avoid – trying to avoid something. Reacting too much. Anything he does is always too, too much, no matter how hard he tries to tone himself down, to temper his instincts.
"Why did Father even adopt Drake, anyway?" Damian asks.
"What?"
"I mean, why did he adopt so many people?" Damian says. He doesn't want Grayson to think this is only about Drake... even if it is. "Was it because... When Mother was talking to him when I just met him, he said she told him she had a miscarriage..."
Grayson is infuriatingly non-reactive. Damian feels more stupid the more he talks.
"Was it to make up for losing me?" Damian asks.
Grayson exhales slowly. Taking his time. Then, he says, "Damian, I don't want to lie to you – "
So no, the answer is going to be no, Father didn't even care that he lost Damian –
"But I don't think that really factored into his decision," Grayson continues. "I mean, he didn't adopt me for a long time, but I think it was because he was twenty-five and freaked out about the responsibility of a kid and terrified of me thinking he was replacing my parents."
'Freaked out'and 'terrified'sound like such disrespectful descriptions to give to Father.
"You know your dad wanted you, right?" Grayson asks.
Damian hates it. It's like Grayson can see into his head, see all of the doubts he's been having. See his thoughts about Drake.
"I know that; he made me Robin," Damian says.
"But even before that," Grayson continues. "He still wanted you."
Now Grayson's just being a liar. Again. "He said I was too dangerous to leave alone," Damian says. He's sure the words are embarrassingly barely audible; they feel tight in his throat. "He said he wouldn't let me stay around anymore."
Grayson's mask partially disguise his expression, but his mouth opens in surprise and Damian hates it. "That doesn't sound right. Did something happen...? When did he say it?"
"Right after Drake." Damian doesn't have to articulate what happened with Drake. There's only really one incident that Father would have viewed as significant.
"You can't take what he said after finding Tim to heart," Grayson says. "We all say things we don't mean or things we regret when we're scared and our adrenaline's running high."
Damian releases his grip on his arms. They're practically numb now, for how hard he's been squeezing them. He doesn't know what Grayson wants with this, and he wanted the conversation to be over five minutes ago. So he just says, "Let's just go get Deathstroke."