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

[brat]

WHO: damian wayne (brat) & associates
WHEN: april - may
WHERE: places
WHAT: a catch all for closed starters
NOTES\WARNINGS:

Comments

[riskfalling]

[ 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.

[brat]

( 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.

[riskfalling]

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.

[brat]

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. )

[riskfalling]

[ 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. ]