Damian thought Drake was being rather naive regarding Todd. As for why that might be, Damian did not know. However, whatever the cause of Drake's navette, Damian held no such illusions. The man was a murderer: one who had tried to kill Damian, no less! And Grayson, and Father and even Drake! How could he, an insane man, be trusted around such a small vulnerable child?

Damian could see that his and Todd's circumstances were similar: Damian had attempted to assassinate Drake as well. But it was not the same! Damian had possessed no exposure to moral 'rights' and 'wrongs'! He had acted exactly as he had been trained: the only way he could've known how to react!

Todd had been raised by Father. He had had access to literature and people who taught him the varying greys of morality that were so often lost on Damian. Todd had known what family and friends were, and he had still tried to murder them all.

The pit could only provide so much of an excuse. Damian's grandfather had been submersed many times, and he was still rational. Misguided, perhaps, but at least he made sense about the way humans were destroying the world. That much had been made abundantly clear in Damian's stay with his father. Likewise, his goals and values were grounded in logic! Damian understood him.

Even directly after being submerged, he would flail in the grasp of the pit for a while, and then would simply be more sensitive for a time afterwards. Never did he do anything as irrational or psychotic as Todd did, for no apparent reason.

At least Grandfather had still loved his family. In his own way. Be it a non-expressive way, Damian knew his grandfather had loved him. He taught him to fight, taught him to be able to defend himself… these were things that people who loved you did. Regardless of what Drake said.

In any case, Damian could not trust Todd with Grayson. He had not developed a 'strong moral code': he abided by the family's rules to keep up a working relationship between them and no other reason.

To be fair, this also applied to Damian who adhered to 'moral rules' for the sake of his family only. But Damian knew he, himself, could be trusted. Besides, he had been Robin. Had he intended harm, he could have accomplished it already. Todd had taken his opportunities to hurt their family, even after receiving aid. At least Damian could say he had quickly changed his ways.

But Drake trusted him, for whatever reason he had conjectured in his half-witted mind. And since Damian did, at least, believe Todd not likely to simply attempt to murder Richard while he slept, he would accept Drake's offer of allowing the man to stay as long as he was never truly alone with Richard.

All the same, Damian looked forward to the man leaving. Though he did regret the impending absence of someone who had known Richard longest.

Damian perked up as Drake entered the room. If Damian had known no better, he would've thought the weight of the cowl itself rested on his shoulders. Damian had seen Grayson wear that look many times.

Drake walked silently over to a seat to Damian's left. Dropped into it like a marionette with cut strings, body falling in on himself, brows and lips tightening as if he were carved from stone, as if he had been strong once, then melted down into jelly and reformed into a hard creature, jaded against the harshness of the world.

Reformed like Grayson's Batman melting into Father. It was not a pleasant observation.

"He doesn't know where he came from. He had a mother. Daddy is a monster. Don't ask me what else we know, because he's been too brainwashed, too wrapped up and blocked up and TORTURED to know left from right or up from down or his name from a slave's NUMBER!"

Drake panted, bangs askew, and Damian stayed very silent in the face of black ice eyes and rattling air. His ears rang in the vacuum. Drake settled back but his eyes were embers and his jaw a live wire, twitching and jumping in the eye of the storm.

"He wanted rules. Our rules. He can't live without them! Of course he can't. No, no no. Of course not. No, that would be… ridiculous.

Gotta have rules. I said Jason's were good. I told him that he had to be open to rethinking everything, his life, I said that and…" Drake's fingers brushed over his forehead. Damian wanted to tell him that perhaps he should rest now. Damian wanted him to hurry up and tell him what he'd told Richard. Damian wanted him to stop talking and never speak again.

Damian was a granite statue with wide unblinking eyes.

"Heh. HEH. I told him that he needed to tell each of us we were wrong about something once a day. So we'd… he'd… so he'd get up his confidence, you know? We can be wrong on purpose. To help him practice. Heh. Look at him. Doesn't know anything. Not a thing. His whole world his whole world is a maniac, a psychotic maniac and carved ceilings and tile floors that echo when he cries and vases that break if he looks at them too hard and when his parents leave for archaeology he cries and wonders what he did wrong heheheheheheheh…"

Damian's heart beats faster and faster and his fingers are trembling so he tenses them against the arms of the chair. His thoughts are racing, he should say something, (slap Drake?) but Drake is not stable, he can't step into the (unsafe) whirlwind that is Drake right now and he wants to leave right now Dick should be here now him this isn't his job he's too young for this

"Drake." His voice sounds much more stable than he'd imagined. Strange. "Grayson's parents were never invested in archaeology."

His voice trembles at its core. Don't tell Drake he's wrong - hope he thinks of it himself…

"Yeah. Yeah, they never did." Drake buries his face in his hands and Damian hopes he never pulls it out again. "Mm. I'm sorry. Damian. My bad. I'm… yeah. Yeah, I told you the new rules. Make sure he… does it. Okay. Hehe. I'm. I'm gonna go lie down, now. Gotta be rested, you know?"

Damian nods and does not untense for several minutes.