Dick Grayson one shots

Denial

Whumptober day 28: Denial
teasdalemm77

Damian clung to his father, burying his face in the man's shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut. His body trembled from the shock of receiving renewed life. If it had been any other time or place he wouldn't have held onto Bruce for nearly as long as he did, but he could tell Bruce didn't want to let go of him either.

His gaze eventually found the other inhabitants of the room, each of them dressed in something reminiscent of the Robin uniform he used to wear. He found it sweet in a way. His brow furrowed in worry, however, when he didn't see the person he'd subconsciously been searching for.

He pushed thoughts of his eldest brother from his mind for the time being, chiding himself for his childish longing for the elder's embrace. Dick had been there when he'd died after all. It had only seemed right that he'd be there when he came back.

As though frozen for a moment, everything seemed to suddenly start moving again, the weight of the everything nearly crushing Damian as he remained close to his father's side.

It wasn't until he was settled comfortably in one of the cave's hospital beds having his blood drawn that Damian remembered his desire to see his eldest brother. "Where's Grayson?" He wondered aloud.

The temperature in the cave seemed to drop a few degrees as a somber mood fell over everyone.

Damian shifted uncomfortably, noting the way Tim seemed to be wiping away tears. A sinking feeling was growing in his stomach.

"Damian," Bruce said softly. "A... a few months ago... Dick was taken by a crime syndicate. He... he was killed to stop a bomb from going off."

"No," Damian mumbled, tears welling in his eyes. It felt as if all the oxygen had been sucked from his lungs, the world spinning strangely around him.

Sound faded in and out, everything around him drowning his senses.

"You gotta breathe," someone said, their voice one thread in the overwhelming tangle his life had just become.

Damian closed his eyes and curled in on himself. Bruce's words bouncing around in his mind.

Dick was dead.

—

Damian sat on his recently deceased brother's bed, one of the man's hoodies grasped tightly in his hands. He brought it up to his nose, breathing in the familiar smell of the cologne Dick used to wear.

He'd been in mourning since being brought back to life himself, the one person he truly cared about no longer there. He hugged the hoodie, pretending it was his brother he was hugging. He imagined Dick would rub his back and hush his fears if he'd truly been there.

His tears plopped onto the worn fabric. Why'd he have to come back. Who in the universe decided he deserved a second chance at life? Who decided Dick didn't deserve the same second chance?

He pulled the tear-stained hoodie over his head, letting it envelop him in its familiar warmth.

No.

His brother couldn't be gone. He just couldn't be.

Damian hadn't been there to see Dick take his final breath. Practically nobody had been. There was Bruce, but he refused to talk about it other than the initial explanation he'd offered.

He huffed out a shaky breath, curling up on the soft sheets of his brother's bed. He refused to believe that he really was gone.

—

Damian opened his puffy eyes, rubbing at them as if in an attempt to wipe away any evidence that he was ever crying. He forced himself to sit up, parting from the warmth of Dick's bed.

The world felt muted and dull as it had been for weeks. It was getting harder and harder to force himself to get up, his will to live wilting away day by day.

He checked the time, not much caring how long he'd slept. He hadn't cared for a while.

"Master Damian?" Alfred called softly as he opened the door of Dick's room just a crack.

Damian looked up at the man, noting the worry etched into his features.

"I have your dinner here Master Damian," Alfred said, stepping into the room with a covered tray of food.

Damian dropped his gaze to the floor. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"Unless," Alfred began again hesitantly. "Unless you'd like to join everyone in the dining hall?"

Damian shook his head minutely. "I'd like to have my dinner here," he replied, his barely above a whisper. "I'll be down for patrol."

Alfred sighed softly and handed Damian the tray. "I know he was like a father to you Master Damian... I... I believe he'd want you to move on and be happy."

Damian didn't respond, opting to simply turn his back on the butler, hiding the tears welling in his eyes. Why didn't anyone understand? He couldn't simply move on. "I will see you before patrol," he said, hoping Alfred hadn't heard the shaking of his voice.

—

Damian numbly followed the patrol route Bruce had set for him, the routine offering him some semblance of comfort. He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, his eyes scanning the streets for any sign of crime.

He froze when his eyes caught on something else... or rather someone else.

"You're alive?" He breathed, looking at his older brother, watching him utter the same words.

And then he ran.

He didn't care if this was some sort of joke, some sick trick. He wanted his brother.

Dick wrapped Damian in a hug, his face pressed against his brother's.

"I missed you," Damian said, tears wetting his mask.

"I know kiddo," Dick replied softly. "Me too."

Damian held his brother just a bit tighter, the soft fabric of Dick's blue hoody's hood tickling his neck.

"Aren't you going to tell me I'm the worst for hiding, for doing it all?" Dick asked, a forced lightness in his voice.

"Don't you already know that?" Damian laughed, his voice choked with tears. "I don't really see the point in me having to bother with it."

Dick chuckled softly.

And just like that, everything seemed right in the world... Maybe it wasn't perfect, but was it ever really meant to be?