I'll be good

Al Ghul

Tim gripped the sides of the porcelain sink tightly, in an effort to calm himself down. He wasn't even sure why he was angry. Was it at Damian? No. The kid hadn't done anything to him to be mad about, but he knew his anger had come from somewhere. Or perhaps it was fear. Fear that this boy was to be his replacement, that Bruce was ready to move on.

No...

Bruce wouldn't do that, not without consulting him about it first. The role of Robin was Tim's responsibility, and Bruce knew how much it meant to him.

Tim released his grip, looking at his reflection in the mirror. "You're being stupid!" he told himself over and over until his jaw ached. But maybe him fretting over the mantle of Robin wasn't where his anger was coming from. There was still the matter of Damian, a random kid who Bruce just happened to bring home.

Tim wasn't sure why Bruce did this, he didn't even know the kid, and their secret identities meant everything to Bruce. Tim was flustered, he was thinking about this too much, and his head began to feel heavy.

Tim quickly splashed his face with cold water before leaving the bathroom. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, he just wanted the familiar comfort of his warm bed. But then he saw Damian, who was beginning to look more and more like a mini Bruce, wandering the halls aimlessly.

Tim stopped for a moment, contemplating whether to just leave him be and continue to his room. He sighed, giving in and making his way towards the boy.

"Hey," Tim said quietly, trying his best to look awake, despite his drooping eyes. Damian turned to Tim in acknowledgment, but he didn't answer. Tim couldn't help but notice how white Damian's face was compared to his natural, tanned complexion, almost as if he'd seen a ghost. And his eyes were red-rimmed and puffy like he'd been crying.

"Are you okay?" Tim asked, suddenly growing concerned about the boy.

Damian looked away, avoiding Tim's eyes, "I'm fine," he retorted, keeping his gaze to the side.

"Well, you don't look fine. What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Damian snapped, finally turning to look at Tim. "And if there was something wrong, I wouldn't tell you."

Tim bit back his tongue at Damian's words. He didn't want to anger the kid more, but he knew something was bothering him.

"Fine," Tim grunted, as he turned to walk away from the nuisance of a kid he didn't want to speak to anyways. "A little advice, don't bite the hand that feeds you."

"Don't patronize me."

Tim rolled his eyes at the comment. That kid has some issues.

***

Alfred made up one of the many unused rooms in Wayne manor for Damian to have as his bedroom.

Despite the many rooms Wayne manor had, most of them unused, Alfred took it upon himself to always clean them. He felt that the house was the only real thing left of Martha and Thomas' memory, except for Bruce, and to let it waste away into dust was disrespectful.

It wasn't the biggest room, but it was big enough and Damian didn't once complain of the size. In fact, Alfred was certain he saw the boy smile the minute he stepped foot in the cozy room. He prepared Damian some fresh clothes for the morning and placed them on the bench at the foot of the bed. He left quickly to fetch Damian some pajamas, returning only to find the boy already fast asleep on the cushioned windowsill.

Alfred smiled at the sight, it was strange how much this child reminded him of Bruce when he was young. He walked over without making any noise and picked up Damian's sleeping form, placing him on the bed. Alfred removed his shoes and socks before pulling the covers over the child, tucking him in completely. He placed a kiss to his forehead and left the room, glancing once more at the boy, before closing the door.