Damian had always taken to high places, he was constantly perched somewhere like a tiny frowny gargoyle. It used to drive Dick nuts when the boy first arrived, now it made him look up whenever he walked into a room, any room, but it had been a while since Damian went on his climbing adventures.

So that's why when Dick walks distractedly into the bunker – having resumed his Batman activities – looking over a file, he feels completely in the right of yelling "Holy shit!" at the sight of Damian sitting Indian style on top of the cabinet to the side of the computer.

He figures Damian found his reaction amusing, because from that moment on, that was pretty much the only way he saw Damian during day hours, high up somewhere, so far from the ground that it was hard to reach him, but not far enough that he couldn't watch what Dick was doing.

Alfred didn't even bat an eyelash, the butler was perfectly ok with the fact that a 10 year-old assassin was lying on top of his cupboards watching him cook.

So Dick now when looked up and would find Damian again – even if the boy wasn't staring back at him – every time, everywhere.

Until he wasn't.

Damian wasn't in his room, wasn't in Dick's room, wasn't anywhere really and it was maddening. When he searched the kitchen for the fifth time, Alfred stopped him with a calming hand on his shoulder "Marter Damian wouldn't leave. This is a penthouse and he likes high places, remember?"

Dick was about to start yanking on his hair, because Alfred could not be that cool over this when it hit him, and he called a quick thanks over his shoulder as he ran to the elevator.

He found Damian on the roof, staring at the Bat-Signal on the sky.

"What's up, Dames?" he asked and got a scowl out of Damian.

"Must you give me names? I already have one."

"Yeah, but it's so long." Dick complained as he sat beside his brother.

Damian hugged his knees and stared up again "Are they meant as terms of endearment? The names you call me."

"Well, yeah. What did you think I meant?"

"I was not sure. Mother mostly ever called me 'beloved' when she was in the midst of appreciating how I could surpass father. You seem content to merely call me things."

"And it bugs you?"

Damian shrugged "I don't care either way. You may do as you please."

"Yeah, you care" Dick countered "You always have an opinion about everything."

"I do not." he said softly and a bit distant. Dick leaned back on his hands and watched Damian's profile "You are staring."

"Yup."

Damian rolled his eyes, and hugged his knees closer to his chest "Must you do it?"

"Yup."

"-tt-" Dick saw as Damian's throat worked and expression grew harder, but the boy refused to look back, with the exceptions of a few quick annoyed glances "It is leverage against you." he said hotly "That you would display your…" another peek followed by a slowly enunciated "affections so freely gives your enemies enough knowledge to do you harm."

Dick sighs and scoots closer, their arms almost touching "I won't call you any other nicknames if it bothers you that much."

"I am not a 'little bird' or little at all." Damian grumbles darkly and Dick smiles.

"Yeah, you are!" Dick grins and bumps his elbow on Damian's shoulder "You're tiny. And cute. And one day, you'll grow up. Like me."

"Below average height and intensely annoying?"

"Why yes, exactly." Dick is grinning at Damian's antics. He can't even remember the last time he called the boy 'little bird' and he knew not to call him Little D, so why would he be complaining-

Oh.

Jason's voice echoed hauntingly in his mind "And your darling Timmy called him by your pet name while-"

Dick snapped his eyes closed. "Damian, I-"

"Should you even be here?" Damian spoke over him, like he knew exactly what Dick would say next and already hated it "The city calls."

Dick watched Damian as he gazed up to the sky once more and the words spilled from his mouth before he could think about it "Wanna come with me?"

Damian's head snapped towards him though his expression barely showed any surprise, and even that was only apparent thanks to an arched brow "Where?"

"You know." Dick indicated the signal with a little jerk of his head "Gotham needs us."

"Will Drake be joining us?"

"Nope. It's you and me."

It took a second, in which Damian's bottom lip jutted out slightly before he nodded "I'd like that."

Dick grinned and stood "What are you waiting for, then? Let's go!"

Damian let him take the lead and spared one last glance to the sky and to the tiny forms flying in and out of the light of the Bat-Signal. He wondered how long it would take for Grayson to realize mother was in town.

Being crazy lets people get away with unbelievable shit; allegedly, they couldn't account for their actions. A screwed up brain usually does that.

Jason was nuts, but he was very aware of that. He was also mostly aware of every flaw and mishap in his personality – he wasn't stupid –, he just chose to ignore them. And this was a clear example of that.

What good would come out of screwing with the replacement during patrol? None, really.

Dickie would come to the rapist's rescue, they would quarrel, everyone would be upset and Damian would have to choose between his tentative… friendship? – Yeah, let's call it that – with Jason, the failure, and his everlasting bond with Golden Boy. It was pretty clear how that would go down.

Grayson had never called the kid a burden for starters.

So yeah, Jason knew this couldn't possibly end well, and yet he kept using every bit of opportunity to steal crap from Tim's belt and watch the fucker flail around whining shit like "It's not funny, Jason!"

If he stomped, Jason would lose it.

Suddenly Tim paused, hand flying to his ear as he opened the line on his comm link "Yeah, I'm here."

Can you really blame Jason for stealing that comm? No. You can't.

Tim tried to reach it – apparently having forgotten that he was a pocket size hero or something – which was way more hilarious than Jason had hoped for and it almost made him miss the last of Grayson's talking "… to much damage. You can reach the harbor in less than 10. Just be careful, something shifty is going on down there."

Jason closed the line and smiled "As fun as this has been, I gotta go. Stop some crime, fight some criminals… well other criminals, am I right?"

"Stop screwing around! What did Batman want?"

"He wants you to retire for the night."

"What?"

Jason nailed him right on the kisser. It was amazing how many times he got away with that, what a piece of shit replacement Bruce found. That only fueled his sense of poetic justice in leaving Tim passed out on a rooftop – he didn't have to tie the replacement up, it was just more entertaining – and smiled to himself as he headed to the harbor.

Damian scowled throughout the conversation, blank lenses glaring at Grayson to no avail.

There's no need to bring Drake into this, Damian could handle whatever mother had set up in the harbor, he was sure of it. And despite everything Grayson's been saying, he seems to believe that Damian is made of glass, inanely patrolling the most safe areas of the city.

At least Grayson was yet oblivious to mother's visit to Gotham, Damian knew as soon as that information was uncovered, he'd be banned from his Robin duties one way or the other. The possibility that he would suddenly forget his allegiances and rejoin the Al Ghul household was always looming over them.

And perhaps, if Grayson had been truthful, the man might actually be scared of mother taking Damian away. It was an unsettling thought, what would happen if Richard and mother fought.

"Huh. He didn't even answer." Grayson muttered to himself. At least Damian hoped that was the case, since he obviously wouldn't shed a tear if Drake showed up disemboweled – he actually had a mind of performing the act himself – but before he could express that, there was a noise.

It sounded like rattling wings. Big wings. Grayson's stance indicated he had heard it too.

Almost at the same time, Damian's comm cracked to life "You still haven't come to your senses, I see."

The same sound, louder this time, and with a sign telling Damian to stay put, Grayson distanced himself to investigate and Damian took the chance to address the voice "My senses are perfect, mother. What brings you here?" he asked nonchalantly "Business?"

"You, actually. It has come to my attention that the Drake boy has done you harm."

Damian swallowed hard, tough his voice didn't waver "That situation has been dealt with."

"And the offender yet draws breath. How can you allow such a thing? Have you forgotten all you've been taught?"

Damian blinks rapidly, trying to gather his thoughts, breathing raggedly. He believed he was passed this, listening to mother only made father and Grayson look at him pityingly, which in turn made Damian's stomach burn, but this felt different.

Mother was right.

This was what he daydreamed about, repaying what Drake did to him, so why not?

It wasn't as if Damian would ever be able to prove father – or anyone else really – his self-worth, that was already tarnished for good, so why not break the Bat's rules? Should Drake be allowed to live having done what he did? His very existence humiliated Damian constantly, and that was completely unacceptable.

Grayson said it wasn't Drake's fault but-

Grayson.

Batman had gone inside the building looking for the source of the rattling and was still unaccounted for, and the lack of sound or movement on the roof made Damian's skin crawl and his eyes search his surroundings frantically "Where is he?"

"Who, darling?"

Damian gritted his teeth at the endearment "Batman, mother. Where is he?"

"Batman is dead." Damian held his breath for a moment to calm his hammering heart until she added "You know that."

The air rushed out of him and he let his eyes fall closed, heart rate going down "Father is dead, mother. Batman is not."

"You're surely not talking about that circus freak. I believed you were grooming yourself to become Batman, not playing page boy to that gipsy."

Dick was feeling light-headed. There was a man-bat in Gotham. Not the Man Bat, but a man-bat, lurking in the shadows waiting to attack Dick or anyone else who happened by – though the intended target was probably Dick. The fight was fast and messy and Dick was running back to the roof with the blood of the man-bat still clinging to his gloved fingers.

A man-bat could only mean Talia was there, maybe watching him right now and Damian was completely alone.

"Apologies for showing such surprise. You are being rather courteous to a declared enemy." he heard Damian say, and when Dick finally spotted him, his partner was staring at the skyline with a disheartened frown

The boy turned his head to Dick, who pressed a finger to his own lips, asking for silence then reached for the comm. Damian jumped back and landed in a battle stance, baring his teeth.

"Believing I was safe with them has rendered me vulnerable." Damian's voice was steady and calm, though he looked murderous.

Dick balked. He moved closer again and Damian actually slashed at him with a batarang. It was mind-numbing.

Vulnerable. That's the word Damian just used, he's feeling vulnerable.

He thinks Dick would actually attack him for the communicator, that Dick would choose to fight Talia over his little brother's well-being. Stepping closer was completely out of the question and the longer he let Talia speak, the worse this situation could turn, so Dick kneeled in front of Damian with slow, deliberate movements and extended a hand. Damian hardly relaxed, but watched Dick with careful consideration.

"Sentimental attachment is a weakness." the boy concluded slowly, as if trying to convince Dick as well as himself.

Dick mouths "Please." because his boy couldn't believe that. He couldn't be dragged away into his mother's world of hate and revenge. Not again.

Damian falters, eyes dropping to the ground and Dick tenses, ready to leap after him in case he bolted, but after a bit of hesitation, the comm is dropped on Dick's palm.

With his free hand, Dick grabs Damian's wrist and pulls him to his chest, burrowing his face on his hair. "Thank you" he whispers, with a swift press of lips to the top of the boys head.

Talia never stopped talking, never noticed how close to breaking her son was "…that they'd try to lull you in, keep you from your path, they fear what you will become. They fear the loss of control."

"We fear the loss of control? I fear you're running your mouth." Dick says with a relieved gust of breath, almost laughing and looks down just in time to see Damian's head snap to shoot him a look of secondhand embarrassment. Maybe that was a lame comeback.

"Oh, hello Mr. Grayson. I thought I'd be rid of you by now."

"I think I'm offended. You thought I'd go down with one man-bat?"

"I suppose you are right… It has served its purpose anyway."

Dick's blood ran cold "What are you talking about?"

"You have been so busy selling my son your lovely ideals about life and death, I figured someone had to look out for his safety and best interest. Tell him not to worry anymore, mother took care of everything. Mr. Drake will never harm him again."

Dick shot up with a growl, throwing Damian's comm against the wall and talking desperately into his own "Red Robin, come in! Red robin, retreat right now, it's a trap! Come in!"

Tim's voice sounded distant "Batman?"

Dick's shoulders sagged, all tension sucked out of them "Oh, thank God… Do not approach the harbor, I repeat, stay away from the harbor, it's a trap."

"I didn't go." Tim grumbles, somewhat bitchy.

As much as Dick finds that good news, it has him frowning "Why not?"

"I had a run in with the Red Hood… He's the one who heard your message, probably there already."

"Hood…" Dick muttered running a hand over his cowl covered face. He wasn't able to contact Jason, which totally explains why Red Hood is still screwing around with Tim's patrol "Wait, he went there? We gotta stop him!"

"I'm kinda tied up right now."

"I think this is more important than whatever you have going on, Tim."

"I mean literally."

Crap. "I'm coming."

"What happened?" Damian asks from behind him.

"You." Dick points at him "Go home. Red Robin and I will handle it."

Damian's frown deepens, lips parting in an unexpected show of hurt. Dick mentally kicks himself, but Damian's already raging "I will not-"

Dick silences him by dropping to his knees again and grabbing his shoulders "I didn't mean it like that." he says in hushed tones "With your mother out here I just… I won't let her near you."

"I can handle myself." Damian counters darkly.

"I know you can." Dick agrees easily tightening his grip "But I can't. Not with your mother here, she's already got Jay…" he bites his lips "Please be safe? Please let me handle this."

Damian lowers his head, keeping Dick from reading his expression "Leave already!"

Dick could hug the living daylights out of the boy right then and there, but time is of the essence, so he brushes his lips on his littlest brother's forehead and runs off to rescue the other two.

Jason's beyond pissed.

He should've just stuck to torment the replacement, 'cause his missions sucked ass. This harbor thing was supposed to be all fun and games, Jason would get to shoot some bad guys, save the day and have an early night, maybe even check on the little dude, see if the kid's actually sleeping for a change, but no. He was neck fucking deep in a bomb and didn't get to fire a single bullet.

He'd like to say he was so furious it made him suicidal, but then again, he was trying to disarm the bomb, so yeah. Jason was metaphorically suicidal, in that 'about to flip his shit' kinda way. Royally, truly, insanely pissed off, but alive and wanting to stay that way.

Whoever the hell was behind this had also lined the place with some signal disruptor and his comm was all screwed to shit. He kept getting snippets of Dick's voice, most likely in dire need to chew Jason out because of his stunt with the replacement earlier.

"Shut up, Dick…" he grumbled out loud "I'm trying to fucking work here."

This bomb was insane, he could see the timer marking 32 minutes – plenty of time, in theory – and counting, but that was pretty much it. The rest was a stainless steel silver box, no engravings, no apparent way to open the goddamn thing and it's not like you can shake a fucking bomb, or turn it upside down, even if he could lift the thing, which wasn't the case. He had had his merry times with bombs in the past – not including crowbars and a coffin, that is – but he was about to run out of ideas of what the hell to do with this one and Dick and the replacement bitching into his comm didn't help at all.

At least if they were full messages, fine, but getting just "Hood… away … now… it's a… Hood! ... you… come in … bats …" was not only totally unhelpful but so fucking annoying.

He tossed the device away and tried to concentrate in the task at hand. Unfortunately he didn't throw it far enough and still caught fleeting words.

"Hood?" he heard it distantly "Answer me! Hood!" was it him or the shouting was getting louder?

Suddenly Jason realized the voice wasn't coming from the communicator at all.

"HOOD! WHERE ARE YOU?"

Great. The kid. That means Dick and Tim can't be that far behind.

"Working on a bomb, need some privacy!" Jason called without looking back and heard Damian's mad dash to him.

"DO NOT TOUCH THAT!"

Jason rolls his eyes because of course the kid would start talking again just to belittle him. "Dude, I can handle a fucking bomb."

Using so much force his forearms shook with the effort, Jason managed to lift the box just a little, and his eyes widened when the 30 minutes timer turned into 30 seconds "What the fuck?"

He let the box fall back down and stood, taking several steps back, baffled at his shitty luck and then he heard it.

"JASON!" he turned to see the anguished look on Damian's face and realized he was going to die.

Jason ran. There was no time, no way out of this, but Damian, who had just called him Jason, was right there, desperation written across his features, running to Jason and that fucking bomb, like he could do anything about it, like he wouldn't die just as Jason would.

They met halfway and Jason didn't stop, practically tackling Damian into his arms and kept on running. He felt the kid's shallow breath against his ear.

"How long?" he asked, and Damian's fingers dug into his shoulder.

"-tt-"

"I'm sorry." he saw the door. It was so close he could taste the night air.

"No, you're not."

"Little dude-"

"It's over."

Jason barely had time to curl himself around the kid before the impact sent them flying. It was almost as if he could see everything and nothing at all at the same time. He saw the orange glow exploding into the night sky, he saw the world turning upside down, he saw deep, profound darkness.

He still felt Damian's weight on his arms, though he knew the kid wasn't there anymore. He couldn't see his face.

A/N.: So yeah, this took way longer than I had anticipated, because making up revenge is hard (so it's probably why this one's kinda lame, sorry)

I think I should say my Talia is somewhere in between pre-boot and Morrison's (this version is totally the bane of my existence, I will never forgive Morrison for making her Mommy Dearest crazy and not just... crazy. With slight motherly tendencies. But I digress)

And if anyone watches Spartacus, you might get why Talia and Damian talk so weird on my stuff, that's Spartacus Speak. Not sorry.

But I am sorry about the cliffhanger, so I'm compensating it by posting this on a Monday and totally killing the possibilities of getting reviews (people only review on weekends, I have no idea why). So there.

This is coming to an end, but it's been an awesome ride, am I right?