Author's Note: Thank you to Guest 1(Not very many people. Bruce, Dick, Talia, J'onn, and Alfred, because Alfred knows everything that deals with Batman, are the only ones who knew), soccernin19 (Things are finally starting to go into place), and Guest 1 (Jason is dinking around a bit, isn't he? And are you talking about Damian in this or in actual canon? In this, sort of? Technically since he was de-aged he's only ten but at the same time he's really not.) for reviewing the last chapter! On a side note, I either have two people reviewing as Guest 1 or Guest 1 reviewed twice and I'm not entirely sure which. I own nothing

A half awake Barbara Gordon answered her front door wrapped in what appeared to be half of the blankets from her bed. Standing in front of her was a tear stained Timothy Drake and a worried looking Stephanie Brown. Barbara suddenly found herself wide awake, stomach sinking down to settle around the vicinity of her feet. She ushered them in without a word, shutting and bolting the door behind them. The red head's father had gone into work a couple hours ago and, even though Barbara knew he would drop everything if he knew she was in trouble, she was afraid he wouldn't get there on time.

"Okay," she said, turning to face the two younger figures. "What's going on?"

"Bruce isn't dead," Tim snapped while, talking over him, Stephanie growled, "Timmy here got into a giant fight with Dick." Barbara stared at the pair of them, eyebrows arching up toward her hairline. Both of them had the grace to flush slightly and look down.

"One at a time," the older girl ordered, making her way through the kitchen to start coffee. She was going to need a lot coffee to deal with this mess. If she was being honest, Barbara would have liked a lot more sleep too but Dick shouldn't have to deal with everything. She could handle this for him. "Right," she said as the coffee maker gurgled behind her, turning to shove Stephanie and Tim in chairs. "Tell me everything." The pair hesitated, glancing at one another before turning back to Barbara, eyes wide. The older girl sighed and pressed a hand to her forehead, sinking down in a chair. "All right," she said to the world at large. "Stephanie first."

Dick woke again around lunch time, bleary eyes scanning the room for Damian. Roy had been forced to pin the younger man down in order to have enough time to explain that Damian had gone downstairs hours ago and was perfectly fine. Alfred had come in then, reassuring Dick that, "Master Damian is downstairs eating lunch. He doesn't need you to work yourself sick again rushing after him." Dick had settled into the bed with a sheepish smile and taken his medicine. Alfred had gotten them both settled with food and then bustled off, probably to make sure Damian was actually eaten and not just moving food around on his plate.

"So," Roy began awkwardly, shifting a little in his seat. "I have a question for you."

"Yeah?"

"It's about the clone." Dick froze, spoon halfway to his mouth. His blue eyes were wide and fixed on the wall across from him. Roy recognized that face. It was the one that screamed too much information for an outsider, damage control now! "Dick," Roy pressed gently. "Is Damian your clone?"

Dick turned wary eyes on Roy then. "I can trust you, right?" That would have hurt had Roy not known how much turmoil Dick was probably in. If Damian was really Dick's de-aged clone then Batman had probably ordered Dick not to tell anyone. And Batman was dead. Dick had to be an emotional mess right now.

"Yes," Roy said solemnly, meeting his friend's eyes. Slowly Dick forced on a weak smile.

"What I'm about to tell you is a secret," the acrobat informed him. "No one else can know about this."

"I swear on my life to keep your secret," Roy promised.

"The beam de-aged my clone," Dick told him. "J'onn suppressed the clone's memories and Bruce took the infant to Talia al'Ghul to be raised without coming under the suspicion of what remains of the Light. Talia was only recently forced to return Damian here."

"So he really is your clone," Roy breathed and Dick nodded. "Does he know?"

"No," came the nervous reply. "But Bruce suspected that J'onn's block might be weak enough by now to dissolve if he spent an extended period of time in my presence."

"So the nightmare he seemed to have had earlier..."

"Might not be a nightmare," Dick finished grimly. "It might have been a memory. The problem is, we won't know until Damian tells one of us." Roy ran a hand through his hair, feeling a headache begin to build. Sitting on the bedside table, his cell chirped and Roy scrambled for it, hoping it meant Oliver was coming to rescue him. Dick smirked weakly at the archer and Roy scowled at the screen of his phone.

"There was a traffic accident on the highway that they're just now clearing up," the red head announced. "Ollie's going to be another couple hours."

"Sucks to be him," Dick tried to sing out cheerfully but at the last minute his expression wavered and fell. Roy settled on the edge of the bed and nudged the younger man's shoulder in a sign of solidarity. A weak, watery smile slid on to the acrobat's face. Roy counted it as a win.

The day dragged on slowly. Damian paced around the first floor of Wayne Manor until he couldn't do it any longer. Then he made his way upstairs with the intent to take refuge in his room. That was when he remembered Grayson was sleeping in his room. The boy hesitated at the top of the stairs, staring longingly at the direction of his room. Maybe he hadn't personalized it but it was a space that no one entered without his permission. It was his safe haven, a spot where he could show his emotions without being shamed by revealing them in public. He shifted uncomfortably for a moment and was just about to retreat down the stairs to lock himself in Father's study when he remembered Grayson had a room in the mansion. If Grayson could take over Damian's bedroom, then the younger boy would temporarily take possession of Grayson's room.

Hesitantly Damian pushed the door open and found himself in what appeared to be an explosion. A Bludhaven Police sweatshirt was tossed haphazardly over a rolling chair which was three feet away from the desk. The desk itself looked like a notebook had exploded on it, paper covering every surface. There was a variety of old posters tacked to the walls, one of which advertised the Amazing Flying Graysons, and the older boy's bed was unmade. At the moment Damian didn't care. He just needed a safe place to break down. He quietly pulled the door shut behind him and sank down in front of it, wrapping his arms tight around his knees and fighting back sobs.