July

"Daaami." Trying to suppress the eagerness he was certain was all but leaking out of his ears over the trip he would be embarking on in a few short hours, Dick poked his head around the door. "Dami? You in here?"

"God, would you leave on your stupid thing already?" a muffled retort came.

Stepping inside, he crossed the room and leaned out through the open window. "There you are," he smiled when he found the boy curled up on the roof overhang. "Mind if I join you? I'll break my neck if I try to talk to you like this for too long."

"...Wish you would..."

"You wish I would join you?" He knew that wasn't what had been meant, but he'd learned long ago that willful misunderstanding was a fairly potent weapon against his youngest brother's snark. "Sure. Thanks for asking." With that he clambered onto the shingles and crossed his legs beneath himself, purposefully blocking the window with his back. "...It's nice out here."

"It's hot, and muggy, and miserable. You know that."

"I know," he sighed. "And I know why you're out here sweating and pouting instead of inside in the air conditioning, too."

"You don't know anything."

"I know you're upset that I'm taking this trip with Tim."

"Who cares if you go on some dumb hike?"

"I know you've been kind of mad at me for it ever since Christmas, too, but I'm guessing that you've been able to ignore it because it was always in the future and not right in front of you like it is now."

"Tsk. Whatever." Damian crossed his arms and stared out over the lawn.

Dick laid down his trump card. "And I know you're feeling left out, and maybe a little jealous." He paused. "How's that for knowing things?"

"It's terrible. I'm not jealous of Drake. Jesus, what kind of a ridiculous sap do you think I am?"

"You mean you're jealous that I get to spend time with him, then?" I'll take that, he thought. There's hope for you two yet, I'm sure of it.

The glare he received for that comment was smoldering, however. "Don't be retarded, Grayson. It doesn't suit you."

"Then what is it, Dami?" he prodded. "Come on, talk to me. I don't want to leave without knowing that you're okay. I'll think about it the whole time I'm gone if I do."

"Yeah? Good."

There was a hurt note in the boy's voice that gave Dick an idea. He slid closer to the petulant child, stopping only when their knees brushed. "...I'm going to think about you anyway, little D," he promised. "You know that."

"Hmph. Like you'll have time to think of anything other than your stupid bonding ritual. Which you're going to be late for if you don't go already."

"It's only an hour and fifteen minute drive from here to the airport. I've got time for you." A beat passed. "I've always got time for you. And for Tim," he stressed. "I've got time for Jason, too, he just never wants to use any of it. The point is, I've got time for all of you because you're all my little brothers."

"Uh-huh."

Come on, bro, don't be like this, he pleaded silently. "Stop thinking about this trip as being some sort of sign that I care more about Tim than I do you, because you're wrong, Dami," he switched tacks. "There's no first, second, and third to me; it's a flat stage you're all standing on. You haven't been demoted, and you haven't been replaced, because those things aren't possible. Okay?"

"Yeah, right."

Dick fell silent, stymied. He'd been watching Damian's upset build for weeks, and had tried to prepare for this conversation as best he could, but his efforts weren't proving very successful. "...I don't know what else to say," he confessed sadly. "I'm sorry that you're so mad about this, and I want to fix it, but I'm not going to cancel on Timmy just because you're jealous."

"Of course you wouldn't. He's number one again."

He started. Hadn't he just explained that there were no podiums in his heart? He knew the boy had heard him, but clearly his words hadn't been taken seriously. "There's no number one," he insisted. "You're not in competition with him, or with anyone, at least not for my love. I know that might be kind of hard to wrap your head around because you're so used to treating everything like it has a first place, but it's the truth."

"I really don't care, Grayson."

"And I really don't believe you, Dami. You do care, I know you do, and that's why I don't want to leave you with hurt feelings about this." He glanced at his watch and winced. He always had time for his littlest brother, as he'd said, but it was fixing to run into the time he'd allotted to the next eldest, and the issue at hand felt far from resolved. "Look, I'm not asking you to love Tim, okay? I'm not even asking you to love me. All I'm asking is for you to understand that my going on this trip doesn't mean I love you any less than I always have. It doesn't mean I love Tim any more than I always have, either. I love you both the same, and I always will. Nothing's going to change that."

"Then why-"

A piercing series of beeps sounded from the apparatus on Dick's wrist, cutting Damian off. "Sorry," he apologized as he silenced it. "Why, what?"

"...Never mind," a sour grumble replied.

Shit. If the alarm had waited just a few more seconds to sound, he might have exploited the crack that the boy had been about to reveal in his defenses. Now the moment had passed, and he was being shut out again. "Dami-"

"I said never mind, Grayson! Just take your stupid watch that stupid Drake gave you for your stupid birthday and go on your stupid field trip!"

"I have another minute," he pressed on despite the vehemence in the child's exclamations. "We can still-"

With an exasperated sigh, Damian rose into a crouch and walked to the window.

"What...where are you going?" Dick asked, hurt.

"I'm going to be alone," was spat back. "The way I prefer to be."

"Aw, Dami..." The boy vanished back into the house without waiting for him to finish. He clambered after him, and made it to the doorway just before the smaller figure turned the corner at the far end of the hall. "I love you," he called sadly. "...I'll see you next week!"

But Damian was gone.

"...Hell," a rare curse passed his lips. Maybe he still had time to chase after him, if he hurried...

"Dick?" Tim appeared at the top of the stairs at the opposite end of the corridor. "Bruce said we should go now. Um...oh," his shoulders slumped as he caught sight of the older man's expression. "Is...is everything okay?"

"Relax, Timmy," Dick gave him a wan smile. "We're still going on our trip. Just...give me one more second, okay? We'll have plenty of time; you know how Bruce is about being at the airport two hours early. I'll be right down."

"Okay. I'll just...wait down there for you."

"Thanks." Not wanting to waste any time, he retraced his steps into Damian's bedroom. I can at least leave him a note, he mused, rifling through the mess on the desk in search of a pen and paper. All he found was the back of an old school report and a stack of colored pencils, but it would have to do. Leaving a missive on the boy's pillow wasn't the way he wanted to address the situation, but it was the best option he had if he was going to keep his promise to Tim. Hoping that the boy wouldn't be too angry with him for touching his stuff, he scrawled a quick message and laid it on the pillows that crowned the bed. "...Can't miss that without ignoring it, Dami," he breathed, "and I don't think you'd outright ignore me, no matter how mad you are right now."

His watch went off again, drawing a groan. He had to go, and he had to go now. See you soon, baby brother, he sighed as he shut the door behind himself. I'll miss you more than you know.

"You're sure you have everything?" Bruce asked as they stood on the terminal sidewalk an hour and a half later.

"We've got everything," Dick promised. Tim's half-suppressed excitement had been infectious in the car, and his mood had lightened considerably. Now he found himself amused by the inexplicable nervousness of their mentor, who had queried them about their preparedness at least three times on the drive into town.

"Don't get so eager to start that you forget to pick up fuel on the far end," the billionaire lectured. The small gas cylinders for their one-burner stove were forbidden on flights, even in checked luggage, and would have to be purchased after they'd landed. "You'll need that. It will give you a chance to buy anything else you might have forgotten to pack, too."

"We know," Tim assured as he hefted his full pack onto a cart behind Dick's. "Don't worry, we won't forget. I've got a list, remember?"

"...Right. Well...here, then." Holding up one finger as a signal for them to wait, he ducked back into the vehicle. Dick shot his brother a quizzical look, and received a shrug in reply. Then Bruce emerged holding a small plastic case. "I know you already have an emergency locator beacon," he cut them off before they could protest, "but take another. This way you both have one, just in case you get separated."

Shaking his head, Dick took it. "I don't know where I'm going to pack it," he joked, "but if it makes you feel better-"

"It does."

"-then I'll figure it out once we get inside. Okay?"

"Good." Their gazes met, and suddenly Bruce was gripping him in a tight hug. "...Be careful," he heard ordered as he was released. "...And watch out for each other," was added as Tim received his embrace.

"And call when we land," Dick smiled.

"And don't forget to buy stove fuel," his brother tacked on.

"And," a final addendum was thrown in, along with a chastising look, "have fun. Don't worry about things here; we'll be fine." A beat passed while he examined them as if he was trying to take a snapshot with his eyes. "...Go catch your flight, boys. I'll see you in ten days."

A minute later it was just them, and it all began to feel real. "Timmy?" Dick asked as he rearranged his clothes to make room for the last-minute addition that had been forced on him.

"Huh?" Tim answered without looking away from the check-in kiosk he was busily tapping away on.

"...This is actually happening."

That got the younger man's attention, and he shot him a grin. "I know, right? Six months of training and prepping, and we're finally going." A few more pecks at the screen caused a whirring noise to start up inside the machine. When it ceased, Tim held up two slips of paper. "Look. Boarding passes," he smirked.

"Row two, bro. First class all the way."

"If you've got to fly commercial, it's the only way to go."

"Eh, a private jet seemed like too much luxury for a hiking trip. I figured we should ease ourselves into the whole 'not showering for the next week' part of things."

"Because first class is really rough sailing."

"I can ask them to switch us to coach if you prefer," Dick teased.

"Uh, no. I'm good. But thanks."

"No problem." They beamed at one another. "...This is going to be awesome."

"The best."

"Let's go check our bags," he jerked his head towards the line-free first-class window. "The sooner we get through security, the sooner it will feel even more real." The sooner, too, that he could text Bruce and fill him in on what had happened just before they'd taken their leave of Alfred at the house. He'd refrained from mentioning it in the car, not wanting to dampen the mood of the trip right from the get-go, but he needed to warn him that the boy was probably going to snap at everything for the next few days. Besides, while the billionaire and his youngest might butt heads often due to their painfully similar natures sometimes Batman could get out of Robin what no one could get out of Damian. It was worth a try, if nothing else.

"I'm right behind you," Tim agreed, grabbing hold of the luggage cart. "Carry-ons only, here we come."

"Enjoy it now. We've got a long trail ahead of us."

"Good. I'm looking forward to it."

Despite his still-present worry over the situation he'd left at home, Dick couldn't help but smile happily at that simple assertion. "...Me, too, little brother. Me, too."