Synopsis: Damian never heard of mother's day, but now contemplates over the meaning of a mother and what it's like to have one.
Damian always knew what mother meant. It was simply a platonic person that had given life to another, though really father fit the bill as well. It didn't seem to be such an important, valued title, and yet everyone seemed to deem it as nothing short of godhood or a deity worthy of praise. But Damian had never heard of mother's day. This odd holiday had been ignored by Damian's upbringing, and so, when he first heard of it, he was quick to dismiss it as a mere, stupid celebration as forgettable and useless as Valentine's Day or Birthdays.
Yet there was something different about Gotham at night during that supposed day of all days. The city lights had been alight, strung with extra lanterns in tandem with each other and lined with flower ornaments that Damian had vehemently denied were cute. The flower stalls had grown double in size while popping up at random across the city and a few, once rare, card stands now blazed across the stalls at a rapid pace faster than bunnies in the spring.
Damian didn't question the change. After all, it was just another unnecessary distraction and an utter waste of his time. Yet when the two stopped at a floral stand, donning costumes and all, Damian could only watch Nightwing in confusion as the other led him on a wild goose chase across the city towards a graveyard of all things. Damian had been tempted to call the other out, to question what they were doing here, but there was a heavy sadness that shrouded the usual pesky attitude of Grayson that made Damian remain utterly silent and stoically watching with pretend disinterest.
It only lasted a minute, perhaps five, but for once Damian wasn't really counting. It was odd, bizarre even to see the other so sullen. Finally, Damian had enough of the other's behavior. "Grayson, what are you doing?" he asked with a slight edge in his voice, a warning that the other was displeasing him. But Dick was resistant to all of Damian's quirks and had only smiled brightly at the other in a manner that somehow reminded Damian of the neon pinks and greens that a foolish classmate of his would often play with, and in the process, color the nearby area as well as herself in a disarray of obnoxious shades.
"Come over here and meet my mother," Dick called out, beckoning for Damian to come. Damian, after some reluctance, did so, but not without searching the empty graves for any onlookers who would be sure to notice the bright colors of Nightwing and Robin saying hello to a stone with a not so discreet name emblemed on the front. Indeed, the press would have a field day with finding the secret identity of their resident vigilantes, yet Dick didn't seem worried, and after a quick check, Damian knew they were alone.
"Mom, this is my Robin, Damian," Dick had pronounced rather happily despite his earlier depression and obvious lack of sanity for talking to a gravestone with a bouquet of flowers sitting in the middle. But Damian did not correct Dick on the emphasis of "my" because, while Damian still liked to deny it, Dick was his Batman, and so by those standards, Damian was very well Dick's Robin.
Damian had never thought he would be talking to a grave for his own mother had always told him what's dead is dead and most likely belonged to the grips of death, but he ignored this and instead humored Dick. "Hello Mary Grayson," he said calmly with a slight hint of arrogance and an obvious sarcastic snark towards Dick. "I apologize for the increasing stupidity of your son though I have been trying to save him from his own absurdity, I fear we both must come to terms that some people are meant for greatness and Grayson is simply not one of those people."
To Damian's surprise, though really he should be used to this, Dick only laughed away his insults and turned to the grave with a wide grin. "See, didn't I tell you he's funny Mom?" He called out before slinging an arm over Damian's shoulder before the boy could leap away. Yet this confused Damian. Had Dick been coming here often to speak with his mother? It seemed odd since Dick always complained there was never time with all the super villains running amok, yet why Dick would want to talk to his mother about Damian of all things was far more questionable.
Damian never understood the need to talk about such senseless things. If it was not a matter of life or death then why speak to anyone? Especially if they had no information to give or some weak spot to exploit, and besides, Damian couldn't understand the reasoning behind speaking with a gravestone when everyone knew the dead could not speak back. But Dick seemed content, and Damian was fine with letting the other fool around in whatever delusional world he believed himself to be in. But by the end of their shift, when the sun began to peek out from the skyline and the world bathed in the glow of orange hues and golden yellows, Damian could find himself understanding Dick's love for such peace and tranquility in a city as dangerous and unforgiving as Gotham.
But when the two left the empty graveyard, making a long trek towards the outskirts of the city by rooftop because Dick had declared they needed exercise over the usual batmobile, Damian began to wonder. Would he ever have a relationship with his mother the way Dick so clearly devoted his time to his? But, if he really thought about it, how much could one love another that has sent assassins down their back? And how could she love him in return for his betrayal?
Before he could stop himself, he heard his own voice whisper out, against his will, "What is it like to have a mother?". Dick had startled into a stop, staring at Damian's domino masked face but the other, despite his obvious embarrassment in the sudden disturbance of silence, remained defiant and refused to turn away from the obvious stare. The two had now stopped to sit on the ledge of one of the skyrise buildings. The silence stretching for a moment longer as Dick slowly began to smile. "Well," he started. "Moms are kinda like the Earth that holds you up but refuses to take your spotlight, or the stars that guide you but refuse to overshadow you like the sun, or the river that cleanses the soul but stays hidden in the forest. Moms are the self-sacrificing kind."
"What a convoluted response," Damian shot back, yet Dick did not rebuttal. He instead only took the younger's words with stride.
There was merely silence as Damian contemplated Dick's words. Yes, Damian knew someone just like that. The foolish, sacrificial kind that never seemed to understand their lives meant more to the world than what they could do with them. Damian hated those kind of people, and yet…
Dick startled slightly when he felt Damian leaning against his arm, too short yet to reach his shoulder. Damian was a small weight, miniscule in comparison to the heavy burdens gradually collecting on his shoulders and the expectations of his own mother and the Robin title alike. Dick then relaxed and smiled as Robin then closed his eyes and sunk deeper into the warmth of Dick's open arms.
"So I guess that makes me the mom, huh?"
MI- Happy Mother's Day!