In the light of recent events, I's like to make an announcement:

Dear DC, I know you are having a hard time right now. It's not easy living up to everyone's expectations, and it's only human to fail sometimes. It's okay to ask for help though - If you need someone to write some dramatic death scenes for you, I'd totally do it. Really, I'm good at that stuff. Oh no, don't get me wrong, I really like slapstick. And all those rock-related puns we can use now? They're awesome. But still, if you ever need help writing an angsty, cool, dramatic death... don't hesitate to ask. That is all.

;)

Chapter 7: Wearing the Inside Out

The sun was high in the sky when Damian decided to take matters into his own hands. He had slept a few hours, fitful and restless, and had woken up from the clutches of a nightmare even more tired than before. He couldn't remember the dream, but had a very distinct idea of what it had been about.

He couldn't fall asleep afterwards, partly out of fear of dreaming again, partly because the thoughts wouldn't stop pouring into his head.

Richard hadn't known about the knife. He had pulled down Snake's pants with the intention of following his orders, on the small chance that Damian would come out alive.

The boy couldn't stop thinking about that. He couldn't stop being confused by it. Why would he do something like this? Damian had messed up his plan, had been rude and disobedient and basically nothing but trouble for his mentor. The older man had left his old life behind, his friends, his city, his own vigilante persona. Father's will had clearly stated that he shouldn't take up the cowl, yet Grayson did it. Damian had been jealous and then angry when he learned that Grayson didn't even want to be Batman. Yet he pulled it off, with an insolent Robin at his side and a ward that regularly told him what a failure he was.

And still, even though he had any reason to leave Damian to his demise, he had obeyed Snake. Who knew what else Snake had wanted to do to him. To keep him alive. There was only one possible explanation for it, and Damian found that it made feel uneasy and warmer at the same time – Richard wanted to keep him alive because he cared for him.

It didn't make any sense. He probably felt obligated to take care of Damian because he was Bruce Wayne's son, but then again Damian himself had pointed out more than once that they weren't even blood related, and Father was dead. Even if Drake still believed the opposite, he knew that Grayson didn't, and why would he fear the scorn of a dead man?

He also didn't need a Robin; the last weeks had made that painfully obvious. Yet he had knowingly angered his cherished Drake to give Damian a reason to stay with him. That meant that Grayson had already cared about him back then. And he had obviously cared about him when Robin had run away to meet his mother and had snapped at him later because of it.

It was strange and awkward to see a situation he had been so sure about from a different light. Grayson hadn't lied when he said things like 'I care about you', or 'I worry about you'. He also hadn't tried to manipulate him with it, as his mother had told him.

His mother... when Damian's thoughts turned to her, he suddenly knew what to do. He had to talk to her properly, seek her out and make things right. There was still a 'right' he could aim for, contrary to his relationship with Grayson. He had blown that one, and Damian didn't know how he could redeem himself. So he would simply take the matter out of Grayson's hands and offer to leave.

Grayson didn't need him, couldn't want him anymore, but maybe his mother would.

Somewhere around noon, when he stopped waiting for Pennyworth to 'wake' him up, he left his bed and started to pack his things. The cats were prowling around his room again, uneasy. Damian suspected they were angry at him for not letting them in last night. In the end, he simply patted them once or twice before ushering them onto the window ledge again.

He steadied himself and then left his room to find Grayson. The quicker he managed this, the better. Of course he ran right into Pennyworth, who called after him the moment he spotted him. Damian turned around to him but found that he couldn't meet his eyes. The old butler knew what had happened yesterday.

"Master Damian, it's good to see you finally up. I decided to let you sleep in, since I figured the drug needed a while to wear off."

Damian simply nodded, turning to leave.

"You are feeling better, are you?"

Another nod. Why was Pennyworth even bothering with him, he had endangered his precious 'grandchild' and there was no arguing about who was guilty.

"Damian, look at me." It was an order, a rare break in character. Damian should be angry about the butler's bossy nature towards him, but he obeyed immediately, shifting his gaze at Pennyworth. He had awaited scorn and anger, but he couldn't read anything else but worry as the butler examined him closely. It was beyond confusing.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" Damian didn't answer, but that was enough for the experienced butler who sighed and shook his head in silent discontent. "No patrol tonight for you. For either of you."

Either? Pennyworth was grounding Grayson too? Before Damian could ask, Pennyworth had already walked past him, ensuring that his last words were indeed the last words. It didn't matter, Damian decided, he probably wouldn't be around this evening, anyway.

He found Grayson in the Batcave, typing at the computer. He turned towards Damian for a second, nodded at him in greeting and then returned to his report. It was obvious that he hadn't gotten any sleep either, and Pennyworth's words made more sense.

"How's your head?" Grayson asked absentmindedly, voice flat with fatigue.

"It's fine. The headache stopped during the night. Grayson, I..."

"Damian," his mentor interrupted him, sighing deeply and turning his chair towards him. "I think I might have found a solution for our problem. We're not working well together recently despite all our efforts, and I thought maybe we'd need a bit of time away from each other."

"You're sending me away," Damian concluded, feeling hollow. He had expected it, yes, but had hoped for a bit more patience from Grayson, so he could be the one to offer to leave. He'd rather go on his own accord than be officially sent away... but then again, Grayson had used up a lot of patience, already..

A look of annoyance crossed Richard's tired features. "I'm not sending you away, it's your call. If you don't want to, you don't have to, but I think it'll do you some good to spend time with other kids."

Boarding school, then. It was only logical, that way he had the headmaster's vote on his side.

"Don't look at me like that, I'm sure you'd like the Titans if you only tried."

"The Teen Titans?" That came unexpected. Drake's team? Damian hadn't thought of that, but in the end it didn't matter. He didn't want to leave, whether for a team of idiots or for a school full of them, but he had to.

"I thought to go to my mother.." Damian said with too much uncertainty, having lost his firmness when Grayson had been the first to bring up the subject. Secretly, he had to admit to himself, he had hoped that Richard would ask him to stay.

"Your mother?" the elder man asked with wide eyes, clearly surprised, and then snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. Why don't you think about the Titans, and I'll try to think of something else if you decide it's a no."

With that, Grayson simply turned back to his report and the clattering sound of the keyboard filled the cave. Damian felt like he should be mad about Richard's dismissive reaction towards his mother, but he was too taken aback by the 'solution'.

"Why the Titans?" he asked out of curiosity.

Grayson didn't stop typing or staring at the screen. "Because it would be good for you to make some friends."

Friends..? Damian never had friends, never needed friends. His mother always said that friends slowed you down, took your head out of the game, distracted you... oh.

"I don't need friends," he said therefore, feeling a blush creep over his cheeks. "I already have one here in Gotham, and one is more than enough."

The clattering didn't stop but slowed down, and Damian watched how a small smile grew on Richard's face after a moment of confusion. "Oh? I didn't know," he said softly, still smiling, still looking at the monitor.

Damian looked at the monitor too, thankful that Grayson didn't insist on closeness. Out of the corner of his eye, though, he stole a few glances and made sure he still smiled.

"Well, we're having some difficulties at the moment," he elaborated. "Usually he lets me get away with everything, but it seems I crossed some line."

"Hmm, then perhaps he's just stressed out and needs to catch a break."

"I still think should apologize."

The clattering of the keys grew faster again and the smile wider. "You hate to apologize."

"I fear it's necessary."

"It's not so much the words that matter, Damian," Richard explained, "but your actions."

That was new. "I don't understand."

"You will, don't worry."

Pennyworth hollered after him just when Grayson finished, and Damian left with a last glance at Richard, who hadn't once looked away from his screen. It was as much distance he could give Damian to enable the boy to open up. Not for a second did Damian doubt that they both knew who Damian's 'friend' was from the very beginning, but that way was, in turn, as much emotionality as Damian could give.

Grayson said he didn't have to leave... but he had also told him that he needed a break. In the end Damian was none the wiser, but still felt better. Maybe he didn't have to leave this very evening.

Dick was driving into the garage, trying not to look at the blood splatters on the floor Alfred hadn't yet managed to conquer. He had his mind on other things anyway, more important things, and he needed to be quick so the butler wouldn't catch him.

He shouldn't be driving with such an immense lack of sleep, but the idea that had come to him only an hour ago had kicked some adrenaline into his system again and he decided to just do it. He had driven the Batmobile under more dire circumstances after all (and totally crashed it, but that was something entirely different).

It was so simple, he couldn't believe that he hadn't thought about it sooner. Granted, until an hour ago Dick hadn't even known that Damian liked animals, but anyway – how did regular parents teach responsibility to their kids? With pets, exactly. Dick was just returning from Gotham's biggest animal shelter, a pissed off and angry cat in the transport box he had just bought.

Alfred was going to kill him.

After their little talk in the Batcave Damian had returned to his room and Dick had climbed upon the roof to think. It had been a good talk, it had given him hope. Damian obviously regretted everything that had happened last night, and he had been hurt when Dick had proposed he could leave for a while.

He hadn't meant to hurt him, not by far. He truly believed that a bit of time apart would do them good, but if Damian didn't want to leave he wouldn't have to. They still needed to find a solution to their problems, Damian still needed to listen to him, and Dick was thinking about it while his feet dangled over the edge of the roof.

Peanut and Jelly were with him again, prowling over his lap and nudging him with their snouts if he forgot to pat them. His shirt was already covered in Peanut's orange hairs when both cats pricked up their ears and sprinted to the other side of the roof. Curious, Dick followed them and watched how they carefully made their way down the Manor's walls, using the window ledges and waste drains.

They stopped at a window – Damian's window, Dick realized – and jumped into the room. Dick followed them immediately, hanging upside down from a waste drain and peeking through the glass. He really was a terrible guardian to violate Damian's privacy like that, but his mind had lit up like a Christmas tree when he first saw Damian playing with Peanut and Jelly and then spotted the half- unpacked suitcase on the bed.

Ten minutes later he was in his car on the way to the animal shelter, grinning like a fool, and now he was sneaking around in his own house with a moody cat and deadly afraid of crossing paths with–

"Richard John Grayson, you just have to be kidding me!"

- aww, crap crap crap!

He turned around to a bitterly vexed Alfred, hands on his hips and head shaking in disappointment.

"Uh, it's not what it looks like?" Dick tried, chuckling nervously, damning the cat for mewling just then. Honest to God, Alfred's shadow on the wall just grew horns and a trident.

"For the love of all that's holy, Richard, we talked about this when you were eleven, when you were fifteen and when you were twenty. You can't just bring any animal you find on the streets into the Manor."

"Alfred."

"This is not a zoo, this is a well-respected house and in the end it will fall to me to take care of your little friends and you know you will be heartbroken when they die..."

"Alf!"

"I know you miss the animals you had around when you were a kid but -"

"It's for Damian."

That shut the butler up, but he didn't change his posture and only raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"I just found out that he likes cats, Alfie, and Damian thinks I'm gonna send him away because he messed up last night," Dick explained in a hushed voice, excited. "If I give him a pet and tell him it's his responsibility he'll understand that he should stay with us!" And maybe he'll understand the bit about the deeds mattering, not the worded apologies...

Alfred glared at him for a minute, then averted his glance and hummed. "That could actually work.." He looked utterly unhappy.

"Come on, don't look so down. I exclusively thought about you when I bought him!"

That caught Alfred's interest. He craned his neck to look into the transportation box and Dick held it up with a triumphant grin. "Look! He has a monocle!"

The fur around the cat's left eye was colored a darker shade of gray than the rest. Alfred deadpanned immediately. Sometimes Dick thought that Alfred had the quickest and most consummated reflexes of them all. "What does that have to do with me?"

"It's a monocle," Dick repeated with special emphasis. "It's a super British cat!"

For a second, he thought that Alfred would simply strangle him, but he just glared him down, unmoving. It was very, very scary, and even the cat in question mewled unhappy.

"Uh, I'll... I'll bring it to Damian, yeah..? See you, uh, later, Alfie? Alfred. Mr. Pennyworth."

Dick fled up the stairs, grinning like an idiot. He was still in one piece and the cat was alive and well, that totally counted as a win against Alfred 'Dick-you-can't-keep-bringing-strays-into-this-hou se' Pennyworth. And now to the next challenge: Damian.

He knocked softly at the boy's door and waited for him to open it. When he did, Damian's expression was fearful for a moment before he could regain his cool facade, and Dick could feel his heart going out to the boy. He was really afraid he'd send him away. Had even packed a suitcase already...

He had been way too hard to the boy. It had been tempting to show him that he didn't actually know what he wanted, but in the end, he shouldn't have let things spiral out of control like that. He was supposed to be the grown up here, goddammit. Dick just hoped that Damian learned as much from this experience as he had.

"Grayson?"

"Damian, I'll come to the point immediately." He noticed how his protégé flinched, already fearing the worst again. It was hard to resist reaching out and ruffling his hair, so Dick crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, hiding any view of the transportation box he had put down next to the door.

"You need to learn how to be more responsible."

"I know.." Damian looked crushed, and Dick melted at once.

"I will give you a project to improve your sense of responsibility." He reached down to grab the handle of the box and lifted the cat up. It commented on the sudden jolt with a disgruntled mew. "It's yours. I want you to take good care of it."

"A cat?" Damian asked perplexed, but he had already stretched out his arms to grab the box. Dick had to grin. Kids and presents.

"Not any cat. I got it from an animal shelter, which means it already has had a home but has been disappointed. You'll find that it will be tricky to tame it, since it'll be distrusting and moody around you at first."

Dick didn't know if any of his carefully prepared metaphorical speech was getting through to Damian. The boy was staring at the cat intensely, apparently apathetic to the rest of the world.

"I like its monocle. Is it British?"

Dick was sure he heard some dishes shattering downstairs and ushered the boy with the transportation box inside, closing the door swiftly.

Inside, Damian had already opened the box and waited for the cat to come out. It was tentative, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.

"I don't think it trusts me," Damian said, disheartened.

"Trust needs to grow."

"What if it doesn't like me?"

"Ah, you'll just have to hope for the best on that," Dick smiled knowingly. "It's a male, by the way, and he doesn't have a name."

"I'll name it Hannibal."

"That's terrible. Fluffy?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Attila? Alexander?"

"Ohh I know, Mr. Flufflington!"

"That sounds British at least..." Damian looked at him suddenly, suspicious. "And it is exclusively my responsibility?"

"Absolutely. Alfred and I will not so much as lift a finger. You have to feed him everyday, clean his litter box, play with him. Every day."

"Do we even have cat food? Or a litter box?"

"Uh, not yet. I forgot to buy it."

"-tt-, of course you did."

"So, Mr. Fluffington, why don't you come out and play? Yes, that's a good boy!"

Damian watched jealously as the cat cautiously approached Dick. "We will not call it Fluffington."

"Of course not, that's his last name. You're the only person I know who uses last names."

"Is that a problem?" Damian looked distressed again. Out of reflex, Dick reached out for him and patted his hair.

"No, it's kind of adorable when you do it. So, first names. How about Strawberry? I'd call it Peaches if it were a female..."

Damian looked at him while he rambled, muttering something under his breath that sounded a lot like 'Buddha', but that made no sense at all.

"Oh, Buddy, that's it! Good idea, Damian!"

The boy stared pensively at the cat. "Buddy is okay, I guess."

"Sir Buddy Fluffington, how do you like that?" The cat turned to look at him, unimpressed. Super British.

"How did you smuggle it past Pennywor... Alfred? I heard about your earlier failures concerning the lizards you once tried to bring inside," Damian asked, reaching for the cat to pat it.

"Ben and Jerry? Oh that really wasn't a failure, it was just a distraction for my actual plan..."

Dick stayed in Damian's room until late at night, when they were painfully reminded to buy a litter box.

Things started to look up, afterwards. Grayson tried his best to treat him more like an adult and challenge him during training, while Damian's attempts to tame his temper and insults slowly but steadily grew more fruitful.

Only days after Richard gave him Buddy, Drake called out of the blue, surprising them with news about Damian's father. The situation was tense for a few days, with Damian feeling insecure about his future role as Robin. It took him a while to grasp that Richard was feeling just as unsure about his future position if Bruce Wayne returned.

Only a few months ago, Damian wouldn't have been able to draw an empathetic conclusion like that. He interpreted it as a success of Grayson's training, and it made him wonder how far he could come if their partnership continued.

It was just his luck that Richard went down with a bullet to the head only two weeks later.

-tbc-

A/N: if anyone wonders, the full names Dick gave the other two cats are Peanut Butter and Jelly Time.

As soon as this chapter goes out, I'll post the prompt-poll! Thanks for everyone who made suggestions, I think they are all pretty cool. The poll will be open until the last chapter of this story will be posted. Chose wisely! I'm sorry I couldn't give you more time to think about ideas, but there were already 9 prompts in only 5 days, and the poll should still be doable (is 'doable' a word...?).

I'll be in the South of France for the next week and will be busy with doing nothing at all, so the next chapter will probably take some time. I would apologize if I felt any guilt, but I don't. Côte d'azur, hell yeah!