Rites of Passage | Damian x OC

21. He'll Be Fine

"Thank you for accompanying me tonight."

The dark-haired man glanced over at the teen next to him as they entered the cave, having finished a night of patrol. Though wearing his suit was something he did less frequently as he'd gotten older, Dick hadn't wanted to pass up an opportunity to do it again with his little brother while he was visiting. They'd gone out several times over the last few weeks, sometimes with Bruce, too, and the experience had been nothing short of nostalgic for the former Robin. Besides, he'd missed patrol for a variety of reasons (ones that didn't include getting his ass kicked or things going awry, of course).

It never got old, watching the living, breathing life of the city at night whenever they stopped to take in the view from somewhere high up enough to let them look out over their home. Despite its flaws and the ugly pain it often brought, there was something hopeful about Gotham that he'd eventually learned to see, though it'd taken him quite a while to get to that point. That shred of positivity was somewhere under the layers of crime and desperation, and although it'd been hard to find at times, he'd managed to convince himself it existed. And in the line of work for heroes like, him, Damian, their father, and everyone else, holding such a perspective was often a feat in itself.

"Couldn't go back home without one more patrol with my favorite 'Lil D,'" he responded, the corner of his mouth lifting in a crooked grin as he reached up to remove his mask.

"Favorite? I'm the only 'Little D,' Grayson."

"True, but still. If there were a million of you around, you in particular would still be my favorite."

"Tt. You would be driven insane if there were that many of me... Even I probably couldn't handle that." Damian was pulling off his gloves and mask, not a single visible scratch on him; their night had been relatively easy and quieter than usual.

Tilting his head side-to-side to work out built-up tension in his neck, Dick mused, "Wow. Never thought I'd hear you admit you'd get sick of yourself. You sure none of those petty criminals got a hit on your head tonight?"

Damian shook his head as he stripped down to his compression clothing. "If I didn't know any better, I would blame you for your wittiness rubbing off on Jessica."

"Yeah? Speaking of her, how've you guys been?"

This certainly wasn't the first time he'd asked about the teen's friendship with the girl, but the older man had found that he hadn't been this curious since...

Not that Dick had expected things to turn out the same—he really hoped they wouldn't and that this time, despite the circumstances, it'd be much better—but it was always intriguing seeing how their family's various relationships and friendships turned out when things got tricky because of their... well, other lives. Losing someone was always a possibility, and that had already happened for Damian. And now that Dick could see he'd become friends with someone again, he couldn't help but feel like he wanted to watch the friendship as it developed.

He also couldn't help holding his breath.

Damian seemed to be contemplating his answer, the look on his face thoughtful as he made his way to the bench nearby and sat down.

"She... surprised me the other day."

Jess had surprised Damian Wayne? Well, that was something unheard of to Dick.

"She confessed everything to me," he continued, "after unexpectedly healing my hand."

"Everything as in...?"

"Everything as in having meta-human abilities, what she has done the past few years... I'd assumed she would explain her probation at best, but never did I expect her to come clean about... all of it."