etrayalogs | ( closed ) bred, born, and raised to kick your ass

Thanks.

[ Damian doesn't hug him back, but Dick curls around him, the hand on his shoulder turning into an arm wrapped there as Damian presses his face into Dick's chest, mutters words into his shirt. It never feels good, scolding Damian; it feels rotten and awful. He thinks about sitting together, high above Blüdhaven. We're still the greatest.

They're going to have to be better than they ever were to make it out of here, to save everyone along the way. ]

Any indication on whether he's the Clark from our world or not?

He isn't.

( grayson curling around him is plenty. damian keeps still for another few moments, before he raises a hand to fist fingers into the back of his shirt. holds onto him tight. it's not quite a hug, but it's close enough. and it's enough to keep grayson close, which is what he needs. )

He's too old and his uniform doesn't match up with what it should be. He doesn't recognize me; his timeline is roughly after the loss of Todd, as far as I can tell. Ours would be younger.

Well, that's not ideal.

[ It won't be the his first run-in with a Superman from another universe, but it's sounding like this one won't be as familiar as the other one was. Is. But if he's from around the time Jason died, he might know Dick. It's possible he could be a bridge between this Clark and the Bruce he's only just met.

Unlikely. But possible.

Or maybe all a moot point, given the fact that Clark can hear them even now.

Damian clutches at the back of his shirt, and Dick lets him; if he's being honest, he needs this as much as Damian does. ]

I'll talk to him. How was Bruce with him?

Cautious. His response to Kent was--ideal by his standards. I hadn't given him much information before having him call out to him. I threatened Kent to see how he would respond, and Father responded by telling me to stop antagonizing him. ( another fight damian had started on purpose. but he does tighten his fist in grayson's shirt, pulling gently. ) I was testing his temper. Despite having several openings to attack me, he hadn't tried to.

( points in this superman's favor. damian is leaning towards him being an ally, given kent has had not one, but two reasons to target damian and has chosen not to. )

Good.

[ Which he'd say anyway, but he adds a little extra emphasis after Damian tugs on his shirt, wanting him to understand.

Needing him to understand. And Dick does. Sometimes you need to press a little, push a little, to get people to show you who they really are. ]

The last thing we need right now is Batman and Superman at each other's throats. I know it's a normal Tuesday for them in our world, but I can't be the only one a little nervous at the thought of those two going at it in this fishbowl with the rest of us.

Batman lacks the resources to go at him as strongly as he would need to damage the city.

( at this point anyway. if bruce does get the resources needed to pick a fight with a kryptonian, they'll need to find a better method to keep them from going at each other.

for now, damian--hesitantly releases dick's shirt. takes a step back and shoves off of him. it's not gentle, but when is he? )

I'm going to get Titus.

You say that, but I'm willing to bet he'd find some way to destroy at least one building.

[ He lets Damian go, his hands falling back to the counter behind him, and chuckles. ]

Guess I better stock up on some doggy treats. Go get him, I'm gonna finish making my coffee.

( bruce is capable of taking down a few buildings, but he doubts those would be the steps he takes here. they could go into the hypothetical, what ifs regarding bruce and clark starting fights with each other, but it's pointless.

so damian scrunches up his nose, before heading out the door to the apartment. so he can go down the staircase, back outside, and call titus in with a whistle. titus, who had been patiently waiting like the good boy he is just outside the complex. who perks up his ears the moment he hears damian and starts in after him. so damian can go back up the stairs, over to grayson's door, and let himself back inside.

next time, he's bringing goliath. goliath can fly them in. this time, damian's just - letting titus wander off wherever he would like inside grayson's apartment, and moving back into the kitchen to grab onto the mug dick isn't using. his mug now. )

I am. . . glad you're here. ( drake and todd are alright, but handling his father on his own this long has been stressful. )

I'm pretty happy to see you, too.

[ Better if he were to see Damian somewhere that isn't another world where they're fighting for the survival of their own, but there's no denying what a relief it is that, since they are here, they're here together.

Damian's been dealing with so much on his own since he got here. Too much.

Dick offers out a hand for Titus to sniff before the dog ambles over to the couch and gets up with a squeaking protest of cushions and springs. ]

How're things over at the Manor?

( titus has good taste in furniture. damian almost considers climbing onto the couch to shove his body between titus' and the couch's back cushion, but doesn't.

instead, he puts the mug under the sink to fill it with water, then shoves it into the microwave for a couple minutes. )

I've given Father an overview of those who have arrived. As you can imagine, he's. . . overwhelmed.

Well, we're a pretty overwhelming bunch.

[ His memories from the time when he was Ric are... dicey, to say the least, but he remembers that. The overwhelming sense of frustration. The inability to picture himself as a puzzle piece that fit with all the others. It had been a relief when they started leaving him alone. ]

Big personalities, plenty to say. And he's only been at this, what, two years? The Teen Titans have more experience than that.

( damian - sifts through a few cabinets, until he finds a box full of swiss miss and takes out a packet. sets it down on the counter before he's going for the spoon that dick had just washed.

he's making himself hot chocolate. )

He's very young. I don't blame him for being overwhelmed. But he has been getting used to me, which is. . . good.

[ Dick goes to a different cabinet, the one above the fridge, and pulls out a bag of marshmallows, tosses the soft packet Damian's way. ]

How're you doing with him? It's kind of a lot for both of you.

( he's quiet, for a moment. rips open the swiss miss packet and sets it down to the side while he waits for the microwave to finish. sets the marshmallows down on the counter beside the open packet. damian's shoulders slump over a little, lips pressing together for a moment. )

Father never planned on having me. At least he had been familiar with my mother back home, so my existence was not as surprising as it is for one still so young.

[ Dick returns to his own mug, this one full of coffee, and comes to lean against the counter near Damian. He knows that slump, and it's a familiar gesture, reaching out to curve his hand there over Damian's narrow shoulder.

It's not something he'd picked up from Bruce, whose touches were largely relegated to softened blows while training and the occasional crushing hug, or from Alfred, whose affection and care came in other forms. This is something he remembers from his own father: a hand callused and strong from years training on the trapeze, but warm and comforting and gentle when reaching to soothe a Dick younger still than Damian is now. ]

I'm really sorry, man.

[ He could say he knows the feeling -- and he does, in a way, this Bruce doesn't recognize him, either -- but it's different for Damian. It always has been. ]

But you know... I'm glad he's got you. [ There's a faint wryness to his smile, to the corners of his eyes. ] Batman always needs a Robin. Whether he realizes it or not.

( dick associates the soft gesture with his own father, but damian associates it so very strongly with dick himself. bruce wayne is crushing hugs, arms wrapped around him so tight that for a brief moment in time, damian suspects he may never find his way out of them. wide shoulders to lean against and strong arms to fall into when he needs a safe space to land. talia is a hand pressed against the nape of his neck, directing without words. thin fingers wrapped around a small hand. a small hand that no longer matches damian's when he looks to his palms, having longsince outgrown the child he had once been. dick grayson is a hand on his shoulder, a comforting presence leaning in close enough it would have been uncomfortable had it been anyone else. something to grab onto tight without worry. he's a soft, comforting voice in damian's ear, a soft smile damian doesn't look at with suspicion. )

I know. ( a lesson that he may have disagreed with once, but one that has been ingrained in him for - years, now: batman needs a robin, someone to balance out the darkness, provide a light. damian leans in against dick's hand, trusting his big brother to hold his weight up. raises a hand to shove a palm against his eyes. he's tired, weary, hasn't given himself room to relax in. . . weeks. he has it now, and lets the exhaustion bleed through his body language: the slumped shoulders, the way he presses close to grayson, how the near-permanent scowl falls off his face and leaves damian looking significantly closer to his age than he ever lets himself. ) I won't let him fall.

I know you won't.

[ He squeezes Damian's shoulder a little as the boy leans towards him, into him, and makes sure he doesn't shift at all. Damian's... exhausted, he looks about to fall over, and Dick knows he could push himself, keep going, but Dick also knows he shouldn't. ]

You'll catch him, and I'll catch you. We'll be like those chains of plastic monkeys. Except cooler and with better branding.

[ The microwave beeps, but he doesn't let go. ]

Why don't you go hang out on the couch with Titus? I'll bring your cocoa over in a second.

I can-- ( handle it himself. damian almost, almost starts getting into it, starts telling dick to stop babying him, he isn't a child, but. they're a team, aren't they? they were the best team. and damian - may often feel the need to defend himself still when it comes to dick grayson treating him like a child, but he doesn't need to right now.

so he doesn't. damian presses his lips together instead, then moves out from under dick's arm and starts towards the couch to wait. shakes his head during, like he's shaking off the urge to tell grayson off for offering.

titus raises his head and perks up his ears as damian approaches, but doesn't get off the couch. he's massive, big enough to take a good portion of the couch without leaving much room. and while titus is trained to move when told, damian doesn't tell him to. instead, he presses a knee into the couch and climbs right over his dog.

settles into the corner of the couch as titus turns around to place his head on damian's lap, effectively trapping him where he's settled.

and damian - waits. or tries to wait for a few moments. it doesn't last very long; the moment he's comfortable, the moment titus has settled, his eyes start drooping shut. )

[ There's no argument — Damian really is exhausted. Dick's seen it before, the way his youngest brother pushes himself, and it's got to be worse than ever here: the fate of the world. A father who doesn't yet know him.

He takes his time with the cocoa, listening to the soft sounds of the couch cushions shifting under the weight of both Damian and Titus; casts a casual glance over his shoulder. Damian's eyes are closing, his shoulders are loosening. Titus is already snoring. Dick's mouth twitches, and he turns back to his coffee, setting the marshmallows aside without adding them to the cocoa. They'd only melt; Damian can have them later, when he wakes up.

The cocoa will go cold. That's okay. There's plenty more where that came from. And Dick can enjoy his coffee while looking through what passes for this world's newspaper while Damian takes a much-needed nap. It's not the rush and excitement of being Batman and Robin, but what they really need today is to just be Dick and Damian, he thinks. That's plenty. ]

( closed ) bred, born, and raised to kick your ass

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