Title comes from this quote by Friedrich Schiller: "It is not flesh and blood, but heart which makes us fathers and sons."
When Dick got home from teaching a gymnastics class on Friday, there was a grumpy preteen sitting on his couch.
"Hey, Damian," Dick said, heading into the kitchen to warm up some leftovers for dinner. "How was school?"
When Damian showed up at his house unannounced, there was about a fifty-fifty shot on whether he was annoyed about school or Bruce. Given that the timing meant he must have come over directly after school, Dick was betting that was the problem, and Damian's deepening scowl proved him right.
"My imbecile of a teacher has declared we must all put on a 'talent show.'"
"We've talked about calling your teacher an imbecile," Dick said, his voice the perfect mixture of mild and disapproving. He'd needed a lot of practice to hit the right balance, but he knew he had it now.
Damian huffed. "Did you not hear me, Richard? My class will be putting on a talent show, and participation is mandatory."
"Okay," Dick said, putting a bowl of last night's stew in the microwave. "What are you thinking of doing?"
"That's the problem. Father will undoubtedly refuse to allow me to do anything related to combat, which means I have no options left."
Dick leaned back against the counter. "You could do something art related?"
"I doubt my class would have any interest in sitting and watching me sketch," Damian retorted.
Dick would give him that. "Could you do something with your pets? Maybe some sort of dog training thing with Titus?"
"One of my classmates is allergic to dogs," Damian replied. "And before you mention doing something with Alfred, my teacher is allergic to cats."
"And I'm guessing you can't bring Batcow to school?"
Judging from Damian's dirty look, he didn't appreciate the levity.
"You could play violin?" Dick suggested.
"My teacher suggested that as well, but she wishes for me to join a few other students who will be playing string instruments," Damian said. His tone of voice left no doubts as to what he thought of that idea. "There are three of them, so she wanted us to perform as a quartet."
"That might be fun," Dick said, taking his stew out of the microwave and heading to the couch to sit with Damian.
"They intend to play My Heart Will Go On, but none of them are at a level where this would be feasible. I have heard them practicing, Richard. It would be a disgrace to play among them."
"I could teach you guitar?" Dick offered.
"I will not have perfected the instrument by the time we have the talent show. It is to be held in two weeks."
"Huh, that's not too much time," Dick agreed. "Here, let's try making a list of talents that you have that would be enjoyable to watch in a talent show, and then we can figure out which ones might work."
The list, unsurprisingly, contained a great deal of talents that were utterly inappropriate for a twelve year old to know, unless that twelve year old happened to be a vigilante who had been raised by the League of Assassins. Bruce would veto anything that might jeopardize their secret identities, and Dick was pretty sure half of the ideas would prompt Damian's teacher to call CPS.
"This is useless," Damian snapped, glaring down at the list. "Father will not allow me to do anything related to martial arts or swordplay, my teacher will not allow me to play violin on my own, and nothing else on here would be appropriate for a talent show."
"Maybe, if you did low-level martial arts?" Dick suggested. "Like, some sort of beginner-level set? We could pretend you just started martial arts."
"That would be demeaning, and I refuse to underplay myself," Damian retorted. "I will follow Father's rules, but I will not play the fool to stave off suspicion."
"I know," Dick agreed. They'd had lots of discussions about that, back when they had first started out as Batman and Robin. Damian hadn't understood why Dick and Bruce before him put on such air-headed personas in public. Dick's wasn't quite as bad as Brucie Wayne, but he still wasn't the sort of person you expected much out of. Damian had utterly refused to put on such an act, and Dick had accordingly kept him out of the media as much as possible.
"Could you speak to my teacher and figure out a way that I can avoid participating?" Damian asked, not quite managing to sound unexcited about the prospect.
"I doubt it," Dick replied. "Maybe Bruce could, but we'd need an excuse. But I think it would be better if we just figured out something you could do."
"Like what?" Damian huffed. "There are no options, Richard."
"I'm sure we can think of something," Dick replied. "But first, do you want to go on patrol?"
Damian perked up immediately. "Is it not too early?"
"It's a bit early, but not too bad," Dick replied. "And there'll definitely be a lot of crime to stop. It's Blüdhaven, it's a mess."
"Then I shall assist you," Damian agreed. "When shall we leave?"
"Once I stretch a bit and get changed," Dick replied. "Do you have a costume with you, or do you want to borrow the extra one I keep over here?"
"I brought my costume," Damian replied, his voice vaguely dismissive, and then he added in a more tentative voice, "You keep one of my spare costumes here?"
"Of course I do," Dick replied. "I want to be sure you've always got everything you need to go on patrol when you visit. I love patrolling with you, you know that."
Damian was pleased by the knowledge, Dick could tell, even if he tried not to show it. "Of course you do. I am a superior partner."
"We are the best," Dick agreed. "Let's both go get changed, then we can do some stretches before we head out."
Damian nodded and pulled his costume out of a secret pocket in his backpack. He scurried into the bathroom, and Dick went into his bedroom to retrieve his suit from behind the fake wall in the closet. He was practiced at changing quickly by now, so he was out in the living room a few moments before Damian. He rolled out two yoga mats, then gestured Damian towards one when he entered.
"How long do you indeed to stretch?" Damian asked, looking at the mats warily.
"Not long," Dick replied. "I'm still pretty warmed up from teaching gymnastics earlier. But a mat is always a good idea, even if you're not going to stretch for too long."
Damian stepped onto one mat, and Dick led him through a quick sun salutation and a few basic stretches. If Damian weren't there, Dick would have done a much longer yoga session, but he knew Damian's patience was limited, so he kept it short and finished them off with another sun salutation after only ten minutes.
"Are we going to patrol now?" Damian asked eagerly.
"We are, hold your horses," Dick replied. "Since it's not full dark yet, we need to be extra careful in sneaking out of the apartment."
"I can be careful," Damian dismissed.
"I know you can," Dick agreed, "but just be sure you're extra careful, okay?"
Damian nodded and followed Dick as they snuck out of the apartment. Once they were out on the rooftops of Blüdhaven, Dick scanned the skyline and looked down at Damian with a grin.
"You ready to get started?"
Damian grinned back, showing his teeth. "I am."
Bruce sent Dick a message halfway through patrol, just a quick confirmation that Damian was with him. Dick sent back an affirmative. For a moment, he considered briefing Bruce on the whole talent show problem, but it would be better to discuss that in person; it was a Friday, so Damian didn't have school the next day and Dick didn't teach any gymnastics classes. He could bring Damian back to Gotham and talk to Bruce about what would be appropriate as Damian's talent.
"Nightwing, look!" Damian called, pointing down into an alley as they flew over it. A young woman was cowering away from a man with a knife who seemed to be going for her purse.
Dick shot Damian a quick thumbs-up, then he jumped down behind the mugger and tapped him on the shoulder. "You know, that's pretty rude."
The mugger swiped at him with the knife, which was child's play to avoid. Dick disarmed him quickly, while Damian sent the would-be victim off with a quick and somewhat brusque check for injuries. Luckily, she seemed fine, if shaken. Dick could see that the man had bulging pockets, and he hoped all of the man's other victims had come out equally physically unscathed.
"Do you have cuffs on you, Robin?" Dick asked as he pulled the mugger towards the nearest streetlight. "I'll call the cops to pick this guy up."
"Do you not have cuffs, Nightwing?" Damian asked as he produced a pair from his belt.
"I do have cuffs, but yours are probably more easily accessible than mine," Dick replied. "You cuff him, I'll call the cops."
Damian cuffed the mugger to the streetlight as Dick put in a quick call to the Blüdhaven police department. He hoped someone would actually come in a reasonable amount of time to deal with the mugger, but the Blüdhaven cops weren't known for their speed or general responsiveness. Sometimes, that made working in Blüd at all feel like an uphill battle, but Dick was stubborn, and he'd stick with his adopted city.
"Nightwing," Damian prompted when Dick was done with the call. "Shall we continue?"
"We shall," Dick agreed, shooting a grapple to swing up onto the nearest roof. Damian followed him, and on impulse, Dick did a dramatic flip as he landed, then looked to Damian in expectation. Damian rolled his eyes, but he did a flip of his own.
"Who did you think can grapple with more style?" Dick asked. "Probably me."
"You are incorrect," Damian derided. "Clearly, I would be superior."
"Care to put that to the test?"
"Gladly."
Dick shot off his grapple before Damian did, swinging through the gap between two buildings. They both did flips as they landed, and Dick even forewent the grapple for the next gap and just did a triple somersault. They continued across the city, only pausing occasionally to deal with minor crimes, and Dick couldn't help but laugh as he looked over at Damian. It wasn't quite like flying with his parents had been, but it was still just as nice.
When they finally decided to call an end to patrol, Damian remarked, "It occurs to me that we have no objective judge for our competition."
"You're right," Dick agreed. "Should we agree on a tie, then?"
Damian huffed. "I suppose that is acceptable."
Dick looked at Damian, and an idea that had been percolating in the back of his brain all night finally found its way to the front. "I think," he said slowly, "I have an idea for your talent show."
"You do?"
"Acrobatics and gymnastics," Dick said. "It can't be too advanced, but considering your big brother is a former circus aerialist and a current gymnastics teacher, it wouldn't be too weird for you to know some gymnastics. You could do some cartwheels and flips. If you're allowed to have props, we could bring in some equipment."
"The talent show will be held in the auditorium, on the stage," Damian said slowly. "We could bring in some equipment, perhaps. Nothing big, but perhaps a balance beam or a pommel horse."
"I could teach you how to do some things on a balance beam," Dick said, nodding. "Performance things. I know you already know a lot of gymnastics, but I could teach you how to put on a show."
Damian's face spasmed in a way that almost made Dick laugh. It was clear that he didn't like the idea of performing, but also clear that he didn't want to insult it for fear of insulting Dick as well. If it were any other sort of performance, Dick was sure he'd make it clear that it was a waste of his talent and time, but Damian knew how much performing meant to Dick, even now, and he was capable of holding back if he wanted to.
"You don't have to do it," Dick told him. "I know performing isn't for everyone. But it's an idea."
"I would rather not participate in the inane talent show at all," Damian said. "But if I must be a part of it, I suppose a gymnastics performance would not be the worst option."
Dick grinned. That was acceptance, and not even particularly begrudging acceptance, and they both knew it. "Do you want me to help you put together a routine, then? We can start with just a floor routine, and then you can ask your teacher about a balance beam on Monday and we can add that in if she says yes."
"Would we start today?" Damian asked.
"Well, considering it's almost midnight, I think we'll start tomorrow," Dick said. "But we can go back to the Manor in the morning, and we can start working in the gym. How does that sound?"
"That sounds acceptable," Damian replied. He hesitated, then said in a voice that was trying far too hard to sound aloof, "Parents and guardians are allowed to attend the talent show. Will you come?"
Bruce was Damian's biological father, and for the past year, he had been doing a fairly good job of being a dad. But for the year before that, for the first year Damian had spent in Gotham, it had been Dick and Damian together against the world. Dick wasn't Damian's father, but for that year, he might as well have been.
He wasn't technically a parent or guardian, but he didn't think anyone would really mind if he went to the talent show anyway.
"Of course, Dami. I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Damian didn't do anything as sentimental as dedicate his performance to Dick, not that Dick had expected him to. But when he went out on stage, balance beam ready, he was wearing a leotard that looked just like the one Dick used to wear with the Flying Graysons, and Dick knew exactly what that meant.
He applauded the loudest when Damian finished his routine, and he was sure Damian knew exactly what that meant too.