When Worlds Collide

117) Homicidal Tendencies Run in the Family

-Damian POV-

Damian stood in his bathroom, his shirt off and eyes locked onto a familiar scar on his abdomen. He had been intending to take a shower, but his eyes got caught on his reflection as soon as he pulled off his shirt.

"Damian, can you help me with-" Dick's voice cut off as he entered Damian's room and saw his little brother. "Hey, I thought we talked about this."

Damian didn't look away from the scar. "He saved my life," the youngest quietly said.

Dick stepped up to the open doorway of the bathroom, looking at Damian in slight confusion. "What?"

The youngest's hand slightly brushed over the scar of a healed bullet wound— the one from the night he met Nico. "That's... I met him because he saved my life."

Dick's features turned to a look of sad understanding, his hand unconsciously moving the spot on his own side where Nico had stitched him back together. "He always had a bad habit of heroism."

Damian looked away from the scar and at Dick through the reflection. "Had?"

"Has," Dick corrected. "We'll get him back. We just... we just need to keep trying."

Damian grabbed his shirt off the floor, slipping it back on before leaving the bathroom, the motivation to shower leaving him in that moment. He crossed to sit on the edge of his bed. "What if... what if we don't?"

Dick shook his head. "Don't think like that. Hazel said he was still alive, so we know-"

"We have no leads," Damian said, cutting off his brother. He was scared and frustrated and felt completely helpless. He wasn't used to being any of those. "He's alive right now, but they could kill him at any minute. Markov— we know  it's her. She could decided that she's done with him and-"

"She won't," Dick said, his voice hard.

Damian looked up at his older brother. "How do you know?"

Dick shook his head a little, sitting down next to Damian on the bed. "I don't, but I have to believe it. She's... she's like me and I have to believe that there is a way to save her."

"And if she kills Nico?" Damian asked quietly.

He had learned to fight the instinct his mother and grandfather instilled in him over the years. He had learned justice not vengeance and to tune out the voice in his mind that told him to finish the job— but all he wanted to do was listen to the voice. He wanted to revert to how he used to be because he never felt like he did now, back then. When he was an assassin, there was no helpless feeling that made it feel like he couldn't breathe. There were no weaknesses for others to exploit, there was only the mission.

Nico had told him that those weaknesses could be his greatest strength, but it didn't feel like that right now. It felt like his weaknesses were just that, weaknesses. His brother was gone, possibly being tortured, and he was helpless. He couldn't find him. He couldn't save him. He couldn't even suffer along side him. Nico was somewhere, in pain, and Damian was safe in the manor.

If Nico died...

"I'd kill her," Dick said, ripping Damian out of his internal spiral.

"What?"

Dick stood up, his eyes holding a darkness that Damian had rarely seen before. "If Tara kills Nico, I'll kill her."

"Father-"

Dick didn't let him finish. "I know, but I don't care. I know she's a victim too, but... Slade's taken enough from me. He doesn't get to take my little brother— not again."