Chapter 8: Coming Back to Life

-two weeks later-

The whole gig went according to plan, until suddenly it didn't. Damian had never been as scared as he was in the moment the gun went off.

He had half-expected it to go off a few minutes ago, when Dr. Hurt held it against Richard's skull to force Damian into joining his club. He had been monologuing about his plan while Dick had been hissing and cursing, unmasked and seemingly helpless. Damian had been cursing and shouting and hated every second of the stupid act they were performing.

Admittedly, he was biased when it came to gang leaders with a god complex that told his older brother to get on his knees. Or gang leaders with a god complex that held a gun to his face. He also held certain prejudices when it came to Dick's abilities to adequately assess a situation, especially when his own involvement contained very likely injury.

He had told him time and time again that the plan sucked, but Richard wanted to hear none of it. It had been planned by the mastermind, and apparently Grayson's unlimited loyalty to the man blinded him to possible slip ups.

Anyway, Batman's plan actually did work out. In the most critical moment, when Hurt was about to pull the trigger, he was distracted and Richard used the few seconds to roll out of the bullet's way. Damian was in the air and kicking immediately, Hurt was now the one cursing, and then suddenly there was a shadow in the air and Hurt knew he was defeated.

Batman was back. The Batman.

He launched into the fighting, practically mowing down rows of the Black Glove's goons, and Damian stared at his father's strength and authority in awe. It was the first time he had seen him in action. Red Robin had been right behind him and used Batman's impact to quietly rush over to the computers and do his hacking shit, but none of the goons noticed him with their eyes fixed on the Batman. It was exactly like he had predicted.

There hadn't been much time since they found out that Drake – Drake! – had uncovered evidence that Bruce Wayne was still alive. Then suddenly Drake told them he was back, alive, breathing. And then he was on the phone, and Richard's smile had been so bright it almost hurt to look upon.

They returned to Gotham only a few days ago, and his father hadn't had time for any of them yet. A short greeting, an annoyed 'Is that Damian in a Robin Costume?' he didn't know how to take, and a lot of phone calls and orders that Dick carried out without asking twice. They got a lot of Drake as some sort of ironic compensation for Bruce Wayne's absence. Richard had been just as merry about it, and Drake had bathed in apologies and praise.

Damian had been beyond jealous.

It didn't matter, though, when all the fighting and the perfect performance of his father's plan was suddenly interrupted by a single bullet shot. The impact made Richard's head violently fly to the side, the blood was splattering, and he went down unceremoniously, dropping in a bloody heap on the floor.

Damian felt his heart stop, the rage taking over, but the scream that rang in his ears came from his father, not from his own throat.

They reacted in an eerily similar way, father and son, taking out their fear and wrath on the criminals on their way to Dr. Hurt. The responsible one. The one who was still holding the gun and looking smug. The one who had killed the second Batman.

The real Batman reached him first, and Damian took out all his rage on the men around him. In the corner of his eye he had seen Red Robin rushing over to his big brother, and Damian forced himself to look, to watch how Drake skidded to a halt next to the slumped body.

With frantic movements Drake began to turn the fallen vigilante to his back. Damian was mesmerized by all the blood that was pooling around the two of them. He was at least twenty metres away from it but suddenly he could smell the stench of blood, and his stomach twisted.

But Drake suddenly froze in his movements, let out a deep breath and shouted "He's alive!"

Damian's feet moved without conscious thought, the fight around him forgotten. It wasn't important anyway, since Batman had simply knocked Dr. Hurt unconscious as soon as he had heard Drake, and the rest of the goons were lying on the ground, moaning and bleeding.

"It's just a graze, he's alive," Drake chanted like a mantra when Damian reached them, repeating it again and again while he pressed Richard's cape against one side of his head. The pool of blood around them was still growing.

Head wounds always bled like hell, Damian remembered numbly, staring at the slow rise and fall of his mentor's chest. He didn't dare to look at his face, and when Batman finally came and picked his first son up, he didn't either.

'Just a graze' turned out to be a huge understatement. Doctor Thompson was cursing like a sailor while she sewed, and the Batcave's blood supply of Richard's blood type was dwindling dangerously by the end of the day.

It was just a graze in regard that the bullet didn't hit and penetrate the skull, but the graze hadn't been a light one. It had cut through tissue and a good deal of bone layers, the impact resulting in a heavy concussion and a headache made in hell that knocked Dick out again only two seconds after he woke up.

Damian was standing next to the bed, staring at the thick, white bandages around his brother's head. Leslie had shaven a few strands of hair for better access to the wound – Dick would be pissed about that once he'd woken up properly, but laugh away the rest of the event like it were nothing.

But Damian had thought he had been killed. True, the full implications of that thought hadn't hit him then, there hadn't been time. Damian had seen the surveillance tapes and had been surprised to see that only about half a minute had passed between the shot and Drake's exclamation.

The door behind him opened, and he recognized the heavy steps of his father. He tensed up at once. Bruce Wayne was still a mystery to him, a stranger; they hadn't even exchanged more than a few sentences since he came back to the land of the living.

Father hadn't spoken much more with Richard, though, and that struck Damian as strange. There was so much to talk about, and since it was all relating to the mission, Bruce's usual discomfort when it came to conversing wasn't an explanation.

Damian glanced up at the man who was now standing next to him and staring at the sleeping person on the bed just as he had a few seconds ago. There was no emotion on the handsome features, maybe a hint of tiredness. Damian had no idea what the man was thinking.

"He'll be alright," the man said suddenly, making Damian flinch. His father hadn't spoken directly to him since he came back. "If he doesn't wake up again until tomorrow Leslie wants us to check him out, but I'm sure he'll wake up sooner."

Damian nodded slowly. He didn't know what to say, so he mirrored his father and simply stared at Grayson. There were so many important things they should be talking about, but Damian didn't know how to voice a single one of them.

Dick had always joked about how similar Damian and his father were when it came to emotions and talking. It had filled Damian with pride, until his father came back and he realized how unmanageable a possible partnership between them would be if they weren't able to communicate.

A possible partnership... Damian swallowed thickly. Bruce Wayne was back and ready to be Batman again. He had dreamed about this day for so long, but now he couldn't find it in himself to be happy about it. Would Dick go back to being Nightwing again? In Blüdhaven? What if he and his father didn't work well together? Would he even trust him? The looks the man had shot in Damian's direction had been full of suspicion so far, and understandably so; Bruce Wayne hadn't had time yet to judge Damian al Ghul, Talia's twisted gene experiment.

Damn, it had been hard enough with a forgiving person like Richard to prove his loyalty, he didn't know how to do it with the Batman. It wasn't fair, really, now that he and Dick had finally worked each other out.

"Drake said you were lost in time," he heard himself stating suddenly.

His father hummed in affirmation, but didn't elaborate. As if being lost in time didn't need any clarification...

"He also said you were back in our time for a while when he found you."

"A short while, yes."

"Why didn't you contact us?"

It was more of an accusation than a question, and by now Damian had turned towards his father, eyes narrowed. Bruce Wayne glanced down at him and was obviously unhappy to be involved in this discussion.

"My absence was more effective for the plan. Leviathan was-"

Damian zoned out from the rest. More effective – from all the expresseions he could chose from, his father had to use this one. "-tt-"

"What was that?"

"Did you tell him already?" It was obvious who 'he' was. Grayson was the only connection the two of them shared.

"Dick? No, we haven't had time to talk," Bruce said, surprised, now clearly expressing interest in the boy next to him. "Why?"

Damian found that having his father's attention was like being plunged into cold water. "Don't tell him."

"...what?"

"Don't tell Grayson you were in our time longer than you let us know." Damian had troubles keeping his teeth from grinding together the more he thought about their situation. The anger and hurt were swelling up in his chest now, and yet he knew that it was only a fraction of the hurt Dick would feel if he knew. "He missed you. He mourned you."

"Damian, I..." there was something like regret in the Batman's features now, but he didn't finish his sentence, and the empty apology (explanation? Reprimand?) hung in the air uselessly.

"Wethought you were dead."

"I didn't want to be thrown through time, Damian. Tim told me what you have been through -"

"Drake knows nothing," he interrupted. His mother would have slapped him for that insolence towards his father. "He left, too."

Taken aback, Bruce nodded solemnly. "I see."

"Just don't tell him you let us believe you were dead when you weren't. It hurt him enough already."

His father opened his mouth to reply, but Damian simply turned around and left the room. There wasn't anything more to add. When he closed the door behind him, he allowed the adrenaline to rush up to his head.

Wow, had he really just set his father straight? The Batman? How irrational, now their partnership would have to develop under the knowledge of Damian's insolence... but somehow, the boy couldn't feel bad about it.

He had observed Dick and Drake during the last two weeks, surprised by their complete trust and obedience towards their adoptive father. It pleased Damian to see them accepting his father's authority, but then Dick consented to a ridiculous plan that had him in ultimate danger of being shot in the head, without any doubts or objections.

Drake had listened to the plan looking as uncomfortable as Damian felt, but hadn't objected either. It made Damian uneasy to see this complete faith, especially when it came to Grayson. The idiot was too trusting, and he would be devastated to hear that he had placed his confidence in a person that let him believe he had lost his father a second time.

"I know you're awake, you can drop the act."

Damian flinched when he heard his father's voice through the wooden door. He heard his brother's voice, too quiet to make out the words, and Damian's cheeks turned red – Grayson had listened to his speech about his feelings?

"I would have agreed with his argumentation if I didn't know that Tim already told you about my decisions," his father's voice said.

Now Damian groaned inwardly. Drake, that stupid idiot. The show he had just put on had been completely pointless. Dick had already known, his father had known he had known, and worst of all, Dick had heard how he had tried to protect his feelings..

He wanted to shudder, but then remembered something. 'It's not so much the words that matter, Damian, but your actions.'*

Huh...

"He's very protective of you," Bruce said. "...Of course it hurts to grin, Dick, the side of your face is completely bruised."

Idiot. Damian smiled and decided that he didn't need to know what else they were talking about. He had to feed his cat now anyway, else Buddy would take it out on Pennyworth's curtains.

-tbc-

* this quote goes back to the previous chapter.

A/N: Last chapter coming up! It will be shorter, so I guess I'll update soon. This means the poll will be closed sooner, too, so please use the time left to vote. Right now we have one story leading with just a one percent margin, so it'll be pretty close. I never thought of an emergency plan if two stories end up as winners, so don't bring me into that situation ;)

Sorry for everyone who had suffered from a heart attack due to the last line of the last chapter. I thought it was very obvious that I meant the Dr. Hurt incidence.. well, it turned out to be not so much of a canon episode, I hope you don't mind. But actually I like my take better, since its more realistic (a bullet shot from close range that doesn't penetrate the brain immediately but maybe will paralyze him later? Please. And not even Dickiebird has a skull hard enough to be up and fighting afterwards..). Also, I don't want to hear any complaints about me torturing Dick, because actually I was a lot nicer to him than the canon! ;D

(France was awesome, thanks for asking. Marseille was beautiful, but that wasn't a surprise since everything I've seen of France so far has been stunning. Unfortunately, my French is tres mauvais^^)