Chapter Text
“Tim.” Clark’s eyes went wide.
Kon had invited Tim for dinner at the farm. Since it was a weekday, it meant the place would be Clark free. But apparently that was no longer the case.
“Clark.” Tim said coolly.
Clark shifted awkwardly. “I've been wanting to talk to you.”
Tim hummed. “That's nice.”
“Aren't you supposed to be in Metropolis?” Kon scowled, crossing his arms.
“Plans changed.” Clark said. He looked back at Tim, all earnest and sincere. Where everyone else found it comforting, Tim had always found it fake. Maybe he was biased, with his loyalty to Kon. He didn’t care. “How have you been?”
If it wouldn't break his knuckles, Tim might have actually punched him.
“Great, I finally found a therapist that can handle my crazy– which apparently, I'm not. Who would have thought?” Tim widened his eyes as if this were some grand realisation he'd come to rather than something that was more obvious than Lex Luthor's daddy issues.
Clark bristled. “I never called you crazy–”
“No, you just let everyone else do it.” Kon’s eyes flashed red. “After you sparked off the rumour that made them think it in the first place.”
“I’m not having this argument with you again.” Clark said, a little too dismissive for Tim’s taste.
Before Tim could consider jabbing Clark with the kryptonite shard in his lead lined pocket, a voice called from the top of the staircase.
“Kon!” Jon flew towards them, crashing into Kon at a speed that made Tim wince. “I missed you.”
“You could learn a thing or two from him.” Tim muttered, a dark satisfaction welling up at Clark's flinch.
Kon laughed. “I missed you too, buddy.”
“I'll just,” Clark rubbed the back of his neck. “I'll head in to see Ma, call if you need anything.”
Clark’s tone indicated that he was hoping to God none of them would take him up on that. Clark practically ran down the hall and Tim bit back a laugh at the fact that Superman of all people felt the need to flee his presence.
“Huh, dad's being weird.” Jon tilted his head, a cute little frown on his face.
“Don't worry about it,” Kon ruffled Jon's hair. “What have you been up to?”
Jon brightened up. “Dami came round and he's been helping me with my maths homework. Kind of. He's been quiet today.”
“Damian’s here?” Tim glanced over at Jon in surprise.
He hadn't heard from Damian recently, he figured the kid was busy with Robin and school, so he decided to leave it be for a few days.
Now, hearing Jon's words, he was starting to wonder if he made the right choice.
“Yeah, though,” Jon lowered his voice, glancing around then looking back at them. Kon and Tim exchanged a curious look and leaned in closer, indulging in the illusion of privacy despite half the people occupying the farm having super hearing. “I don't think he's supposed to be. His phone kept buzzing till he switched it off.”
“You said he was being quiet?” Tim asked.
Jon nodded. “Yeah, and he didn’t even want to see the animals. He always wants to see them.” He twisted his hands together as he spoke, his eyes wide with concern.
Despite everything, Tim was happy to see that Damian had found such a caring friend.
Kon patted Jon's back, the touch seemed to soothe him a little. “How about we go up and say hi?”
Tim blinked. Out of all his friends, Kon had been the most reluctant about Tim spending time with Damian. He understood, Kon had been the one to listen to Tim’s many rants about the kid.
He was the first one to find out about Damian taking Robin after he came back from the dead. He saw Tim during his darkest moment in the catacombs in Paris donning Red Robin like the burden it was.
Not to mention, until about a year ago, Damian had been referring to Kon as the clone.
So it was a little strange to see Kon actually wanting to see Damian of his own volition. Tim wondered if he should be checking his friend for mind control.
Jon gave Kon a skeptical look, clearly thinking along the same lines as Tim. “You want to say hi to Dami?”
“Not really,” Kon said honestly. “But you guys do, so I'll deal.”
“Thank you for your sacrifice.” Tim wiped an invisible tear from the corner of his eye.
“This is why I like Cassie better.” Kon said as they headed for the stairs.
“You told me that Tim is your best friend.” Jon piped up, a mischievous grin on his face.
Tim laughed at Kon's betrayed look. “And truth has once again prevailed.”
“You're no longer my favorite brother.” Kon said.
“I'm your only one, so I am by default.” Jon smiled brightly before swinging his bedroom door open and flying towards the window where Damian was standing.
Damian's eyes landed on Tim, widening slightly before narrowing.
Tim walked further into the room. “Hey, kid.”
“Drake.” Damian said curtly.
“Is there a reason you're looking at me like I stole your cat?” Tim switched to Farsi as he spoke.
He and Damian had started speaking the language with each other more often after Tim mentioned learning it from Ra's. Or, more accurately, learning it because Ra's kept using it when trying to keep an element of his plan from Tim.
Damian replied in kind, glaring. “You said that fathers are supposed to stay.”
“I did.” Tim said, recalling that day in the Nest.
“Clearly you have no idea what you're talking about.” Damian switched back to English, not acknowledging Jon hovering anxiously beside him.
“What's going on?” Kon asked, glancing at Tim.
“That's hardly any of your business.” Damian snapped.
“Hey Jon, would you mind if I stole your room for a few minutes?” Tim asked.
“I refuse to speak to the likes of you.” Damian sneered, it took Tim back to the days when he couldn't even be in the same room as Damian without feeling like a frayed rubber band about to snap.
But unlike then, Tim could see the facade for what it was. Behind it, Damian was just a kid trying to strike before anyone else thought to.
Kon glared. “If you're just going to be a brat to one of the only people who gives a shit about you–”
“Kon.” Tim cut in.
Kon let out a harsh breath and turned away from Damian, not saying anything more.
“Uh, that's cool. We should be helping Ma anyway.” Jon smiled awkwardly. He grabbed Kon's arm and they both shuffled out the room. The moment the door clicked shut behind them Jon said. “That was mean, Kon.”
“He started it.” Tim rolled his eyes at Kon's reply.
Their voices quickly faded as they walked downstairs.
Tim sat down on the desk chair by the window, its creak was loud in the silence of the room. Damian stared out the window, glaring at nothing in particular.
He didn’t say anything right away. Instead he looked at Damian, trying to determine how to go about this. It had been a while since he'd seen Damian this standoffish, not since before he quit W.E.
Damian looked away from the window to glare at Tim. “I will not speak to you.”
“You just did.” Tim said, just to be petty.
Damian glowered, pointedly saying nothing.
You said fathers are supposed to stay.
That could mean a lot of things. Especially with Damian's unique situation. But Tim had a sinking feeling that he knew who this was about. And there was no point in pretending he didn't.
Sighing, he decided to just cut to the chase. “What happened?” He asked.
For a moment, Damian looked as if he were going to say something particularly scathing. But he stopped, looking at Tim through narrowed eyes. Tim stared back, leaving it to Damian to decide whether or not the conversation was going to continue.
“Richard has returned to Bludhaven. He plans on remaining there indefinitely.” Damian's voice was steady, in the same way an unstable jenga tower was before you went to take another block out of it. “Our alliance has been severed. Just as yours was.”
A dark, ugly feeling welled up, burning Tim from the inside out. It was bad enough that Tim had to deal with being cut out like that at sixteen, but to do it to an twelve year old.
And after how Dick went on about Damian just being a kid.
“He's cutting all ties?” Tim struggled to keep his tone even.
He could never have imagined Dick doing that to Damian. After returning to Gotham, he'd seen how much Dick adored the kid, to the point where jealousy started to rear its ugly head whenever Tim saw them interact.
Damian scowled. “He promised to visit and call. He gave me a key to his residence.”
Well, that made more sense.
Tim leaned back in the chair. “It sounds like he wants you around.”
“On a temporary basis.” Damian spat.
“Did he say that?” Tim asked.
Damian bristled, looking back at the window. “He didn’t need to.”
“You can't know the thoughts of someone who isn’t you.” Tim said. “You can only read into words and actions. All the evidence points to Dick very much wanting you around.”
“He left.” Damian's voice trembled. His arms were crossed, likely to try and look more imposing, but if anything, it almost looked as if the kid was hugging himself. The sight made Tim's chest hurt.
“I know.” Tim's voice was soft. “And it hurts, believe me I get it.”
God, did Tim get it. He had worn that pain like a second skin. Even now, he still fell into spirals wondering why he had been so easy to leave behind.
He knew better, but applying that knowledge to himself was a challenge.
“Then stop defending him!” Damian's eyes blazed, glistening with unshed tears. He seemed surprised at his own outburst, his breath hitched slightly and he breathed in. “He wouldn't do the same for you.”
Tim couldn't confirm or refute that remark. He didn’t care to do either, long past the days where he wanted his brother to save him.
Still, while the words didn't hold the power they once would have, they still stung.
“Does lashing out at me make you feel better?” Tim asked. He observed Damian. He didn’t have the smug look or cruel smile he once would have when making a cutting comment. In fact, he looked even more miserable than before. “It doesn't look like it's helping.”
Damian flinched. “Leave.”
“No.” Tim said without batting an eye. He sighed. “I'm not defending him. I'm trying to get you, the most stubborn kid I know, to stop believing that you're unwanted.”
Damian's breath stuttered, he turned his face away, completely obscuring it from Tim's view. “Save your words for someone who cares. Go away.”
“No.” Tim said once more.
“Leave.” Damian’s voice was hoarse. Tim didn't need to see his face to know there were tears running down it.
“I'm staying, Damian.” Tim promised. He didn’t know if it was the right thing to say, but it was what he'd always wanted to hear when he was a kid. And while Damian wasn't Tim, he hoped the words would help anyway.
It was quiet. Distantly, Tim could hear the sounds of the Kent’s moving around downstairs and the rustle of the trees outside. But the clearest sound was Damian's slow, shaky breaths, almost silent.
Tim pretended not to notice Damian scrub his face with the bottom of his sleeves. Damian turned to look at him. His face was red and his eyes were glassy. “Why?”
Because Tim knew what Damian was trying to do. It was something Tim had done countless times with varying levels of success. Seeing how far he could push someone until they finally gave up on him. Throwing them away before they could do it to him.
It was easier to convince yourself the loss didn't hurt if you let go first.
Tim sat forward in his chair. “I know what it's like to be left behind and I'm not doing that to you.” He said. “Neither is Dick, for the record, but we'll table that for now. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. Deal with it.”
A series of emotions flickered across Damian's face, all too fast for Tim to decipher. He soon settled on annoyance.
“Fine.” Damian hissed.
“Great.” Tim smiled pleasantly, which just annoyed Damian more. But as he turned away from Tim, he could see how some tension had left the kid's shoulders.
After a few minutes of silence, Damian turned on his heel and stormed towards Tim, stopping less than a foot away from the chair.
“What reason could he have for doing this?” Damian demanded.
Tim sighed, shrugging helplessly. “I don't understand Dick anymore than you do.”
“Don't you?” Damian's voice was quiet, yet it may as well have been a shout for how it cut through Tim.
There had been a time when Tim knew Dick better than even Bruce could ever hope to. When it felt as if they were holding one another's hearts in their hands, knowing they would be safer there than in their own.
A certain trust formed through carrying the burdens they did and with that, an understanding. At times, Tim felt as if he understood Dick better than he did himself.
“Maybe I did once,” Tim said, an ache in his chest. “Now, you probably know him better than I do.”
Damian shook his head. “He hides things from me, treats me like,” He trailed off, scowling.
“A kid?” Tim smiled wryly. “That's a good thing.”
“You keep saying that.” Damian said.
“It would be unfair of him to treat you like an adult. Selfish.” For the first time since they began talking, Tim was the one to look away from Damian. “He loves you enough not to be selfish.”
Out the corner of his eye, he saw Damian go still. He closed his eyes for a few moments, the ache in his chest had made its way up his throat and taken his breath, making his eyes hot and stinging.
“Timothy,” Damian’s voice was small. For once, he actually sounded his age. “Are you well?”
Something in Tim warmed at the show of concern, enough to lessen the ache a little. He opened his eyes, blinking a few times and sighing quietly. “I'm alright.”
“Talking about him brings you pain.” Damian tilted his chin up. “We shall banish him from all future conversation.”
Tim shook his head, his chest aching with fondness for the strange, sweet boy in front of him. “It's better to talk than to let it fester.” At Damian's skeptical look, he added. “Talking hurts, but it can also be freeing. So long as you do it on your terms.”
Damian pursed his lips, his face taking on a considering look. Tim waited, letting him take his time as he mulled over the words.
Damian looked back over at Tim. “You said he cared for me enough to not be selfish.” Tim nodded in response. “Isn't leaving selfish?” He asked. “Your parents left and they were selfish for it.”
“You think so?” Tim asked. Last time they talked about this, Damian had believed that their respective shitty parents had been trying to make them strong.
“Yes, it is selfish to treat a child as if they're a tool to pick up and discard at will.” Damian said fiercely. “To bring life into this world and refuse to take responsibility for it. It is selfish to take someone's love – to take someone for granted and expect them to give everything in exchange for scraps.”
Damian's chest heaved, his eyes shining and his knuckles going white as he clenched his fists. He glared at Tim as if expecting him to tell him he was wrong. To list off all the reasons why he wasn't justified in being angry about the pain he endured.
Like hell was that happening.
“It is.” Tim said, catching Damian's eye. “It is selfish and it's not okay.”
“I am tired,” Damian let out a shaky breath. “I am so tired of loving selfish people.” His eyes welled up and a few tears slipped out, trickling down his cheek.
Tim leaned forward, dabbing away the tears with the edge of his sleeve. Damian blinked, either too surprised to glare or perhaps just not feeling the need to.
“You can't help who you love, only how much of yourself you give them.” Tim said simply, because at the end of the day that was all there was to it.
There was no magical solution that would stop someone from loving those that hurt them. They could only choose to value themselves enough not to let that love destroy them.
Another silence took over the room, less tense than the others. Damian moved to perch on the side of the armchair, still somehow managing to look regal as he did.
“I apologise for how I spoke to you.” Damian avoided Tim's eyes. “I thought,” You were going to leave too.
“I know.” Tim murmured.
“I will endeavour to be more careful with my words.” Damian said haltingly.
Tim couldn't help but smile. Damian was still so painfully serious at times.
“Send me a video of Boba and we're all good.” Tim said.
Ever since Damian had told Tim about the little furball, Tim had been getting pictures of the cat flooding their chat, all of which he adored.
Boba seemed to like people and life in general, unlike Mr Darcy.
Damian straightened up, like a soldier who had just been promoted. “I shall take her to visit you.”
Tim laughed. “Even better.”
They stayed up in Jon's room for another while, talking about lighter subjects. When they finally joined everyone downstairs, Damian seemed a little less weighed down.