Just Robin Oneshots Part 2

tfw dad 2.0 dies

Younger!Dick and Older! Damian is gonna become my new Talon! Dick, I hope you  know that 

this isn't gonna be the only one either teehee

EDIT: TW BLOOD//BRUCE'S DEATH A THEME THROUGHOUT

The suit was mocking him. Taunting him. It promised a man's return that would never happen. Dick would never see the man who owned that suit because that man is dead. Once again, the man he regarded as a father was dead. Gone. Never to be seen again. Every night he'd see that suit. He'd come down and see it. He'd come home and see it. Every time it sat there. He sat in front of the glass case on this particular night with a frown. He could see his reflection in the glass. He was sad. Crying. Though he felt completely numb to it all. There was no feeling in his life anymore. Why would there be? Damian resented him. Bruce was dead. Alfred wouldn't last much longer. He could already see the brick walls of the cells. His old cell had dents in the brickwork. Some blood had stained the bit just above his bunk. He remembered it looked old. Long before his time, it had been splattered there. He'd often wondered what happened to the person the blood had come from. It never ended with a pleasant thought. He bet Damian would send him back once Alfred was in the ground too. Given how much he complained about having to take on "Father's burden" Dick would be packed up and kicked out in the blink of an eye. Well, he wasn't that good of a guy. Bruce was a better Batman. Batman should've died with him. Batman and that stupid suit that screamed orphan at him. He got to his feet as a surge of anger ran through him. No, it wasn't fair! He worked hard for this family but now they were going to kick him to the curb. He didn't open up for them to shut him off. He didn't hold out the olive branch to have it thrown back at them. If they wanted to reject him then he'd reject them first. They taught him to fight, taught him to be resourceful. He didn't need them anymore.

Still, when he stared into the glass case, a kid stared back. A scared little kid who lost it all and was crying because of it. The suit and his reflection went hand in hand, making fun of him. Everybody was laughing at him. He was scared Dick Grayson who was a laughing stock for everyone. Everybody's joke. Well, he wasn't going to be that kid anymore. He was going to change. He'd force himself to change and he'd start with ruining that stupid case and that stupid suit. He reeled back his fist and crashed it into the glass, shattering it with a yell of anguish. His eyes fell on the jagged pieces of glass. "Grayson, what the hell are you doing?" Damian yelled. The boy glanced up at him, his expression was dark.

"Save the lecture. I'll clean it up," he spat. Crimson dripped onto the floor from his knuckles but he didn't feel it. He didn't feel the pieces of glass digging into his skin. Everything felt numb. Part of him hoped smashing it would give him something. Anything. At this point, he'd take the worst of the worst. Not caring to give more time to Damian, Dick went to the med bay to take care of himself. If this was going to get him kicked out, he wanted a clean wound. "Come back here Grayson. We're not finished."

"You don't get to say we're finished! You control every damn bit of my life since Bruce died so you know what? I control this. I'm leaving! I'll get this cut fixed up then I'm packing my stuff up and going," he shouted. To hell with the life Bruce tried to give him. He wasn't here to see it anymore. That's how things work. 

"Where are you going to go? Who's going to take you?" Damian asked, following him to the med bay. This only pissed off the younger who frustratedly looked through some draws for bandages. Normally Alfred fixed him up but he could do it himself once he found the bloody supplies. "No one will but I don't care. You'll just force me out anyway," he muttered.

"I wouldn't do that." Dick turned on his heel and glared at the older coldly. He was broken but he wasn't a fool. 

"Yes, you would! Face it, you hated me the moment I came here and now that Bruce isn't here to defend me as soon as Alfred goes you'll have me out of the picture! I'm done letting other people control how my life turns out!" he screamed.

Tears started up again as the floodgates broke. He stared at the cuts and glass. It was starting to hurt now. He furrowed his eyebrows and sniffled. He didn't know how to take care of this. Alfred did it. He always did it. Was he supposed to pull the glass out? Did he leave it in? If he did take it out, was there supposed to be stitches? Which stitches? Bruce was going to teach him. He was supposed to teach him all this stuff and more. He was supposed to be there but he wasn't. "I promised Father that if anything were to happen to him, I'd take care of you. I'm a man of my word," Damian assured him, unsure of what else to say. Dick laughed solemnly.

"So I'm only here because of a promise? How convenient for me." The older strode towards him and gently took his hands, careful not to touch the cut. 

"You're here because you're my family. I don't show it because I've never had to before but I do care for you. You're my little brother."

"I am?"

"Yes, Grayson. I may not be the best of brothers to have but I'm your brother all the same-" Dick hugged him tightly, burying his face in his shoulder. He held the boy close as he felt his shirt become damp from the tears. "I miss him."

"I do too." He moved so that he could see the younger's face and wiped a tear from his cheek. "But we have a duty to carry on. In order for that to go on, we have to tend to your hand." They pulled apart and he patted the bed as he got the bandages Dick had been looking for. "From now on, try to punch something that won't shatter. You're lucky you didn't hit something serious."

"Do...do you feel numb? After what happened?" Dick asked cautiously. The older didn't respond for a moment as he picked out the glass.

"In some ways yes. Are you aware of what makes you feel like that?"

"I lost my dad again." He glanced down at his feet. He half expected to hear a tut at him or a comment on how he was too in touch with his emotion. That didn't happen, however. 

"That's understandable. Your body went through trauma and to deal with a similar situation it shut down to protect you. It's partly my fault," Damian said, a tint of guilt to his tone. "I should've been more open. Seen the signs."

"It's okay. You're you. I wouldn't expect you to."

"Your expectations of me aren't the same as what I should do. By not being considerate of how you would've felt losing a father again, this event happened." He wrapped the injured hand up with a frown. "So, now that I've assumed the role of Father, I must also take on the role he played in your life. That includes emotional support."

"Thanks, Dami."

"Mhm, now go upstairs and tell Pennyworth about your injury. I want him to keep an eye on it." The younger nodded and jumped off the bed. As he got to the door, Damian called to him, "Oh and Grayson?"

"Yeah?"

"I-I love you." There was a pause.

"I love you too."

Gonna have so much fun with making angst for thisss