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Birds and Bees	By : defying3reason Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 2564 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, or any aspect of the broader DC Universe, and I make no money from my fanfiction

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chapter Five
Damian regarded Dick with a blank stare. After a moment he nodded, then silently turned and walked over to the workbench he'd been modifying ponies on. He held out his palm, swiped it across the bench, and knocked everything into a trashcan.
Dick closed his eyes. His face was still tight in a pained grimace.
"What happened?" Damian demanded. It was a subtle shift, but that was definitely his Robin-voice. Though his normal speaking voice and his costumed adventuring voice were both made up of arrogant disdain and rage, the normal speaking voice held more arrogance while the Robin voice held more rage.
"It-there…there was an attack on Star City. Th-the buildings collapsed. She was found in the rubble." It was a horrible way to die. Dick couldn't stop imagining the little girl crying in a blind panic as her house came down on her, or worse, sitting with calm determination, waiting for one of the superheroes she'd grown up with to save her. Either way she'd probably been calling for her dad.
Damian sat down on the bench, hunched over with his arms resting on his knees. He looked thoughtful. "Do we know who engineered the attack?"
"The League is looking into it. Look, Damian, I know this is…that this sucks, but I'm not taking it so well myself. Roy was attacked too. He could be dying and I, I have to leave. I need you to do me a favor and just listen to me without argument for a little while. I can't…I just can't fight with you right now."
Damian looked up, met Dick's pained gaze, and quickly flinched away. He nodded in the general direction of the floor. "I'm surprised you would expect that of me. But tell me first, when you say the League is looking into it...what does that mean?"
Dick sat down next to Damian, and neither of them looked at the other. "A villain named Prometheus organized the attack. We're still tracking down accomplices, but we have footage of him on the Watchtower…he cut Roy's arm off. Roy's in a coma, and when he wakes up we have to tell him…" Dick broke off. He gave himself a little shake and continued. "Anyway, we don't know where Prometheus is. The League is looking into it, and right now I'm heading out to see Roy with Donna and Wally. I want you to stay with Wally's family while I'm gone. It won't be long, I promise."
"I'd rather look for Prometheus." Damian was careful to keep his tone neutral, but it was clear he wanted to fight.
"I know. I expected as much. But…look, I know you don't think of yourself as a kid, and mostly I don't either. But the fact is that you are. You're Bruce's son, and that makes you family. I can only deal with the thought of so many small coffins right now. Until I'm onto a different stage of grief, I want you to be safe, and you'll be safe with Linda and the kids."
"If I accept your argument, will you admit that it's completely irrational and that I'll make myself safe wherever I happen to be?"
"Of course."
"Fine. My time would be better spent tracking down Prometheus. But I'll stay with the Wests."
SOME YEARS AGO…
Dick was in his room sitting at the desk in front of an open window, trying to tempt in a non-existent breeze. It was a sweltering night, and he wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't be better off out hopping rooftops with Bruce.
Unfortunately, he'd been benched from active duty due to slipping grades. They hadn't dropped by much; he was an honors student, and had been working at a higher level than any of his peers since he'd started living with an eccentric super genius. But Bruce had noticed his A's slipping to A minuses and, most recently, a few B pluses. Until he pulled everything back up to the level of his usual performance, he wasn't allowed to do any costumed hero work beyond the occasional Teen Titans meeting. Bruce's first rule was that the costume wouldn't detract from Dick's "normal" life (as though that were possible).
It wasn't easy to focus on calculus when he thought about his partner working patrols alone though. There were so many things that could go wrong. But Bruce was so stubborn. There was no arguing with him; Dick had tried that before and only gotten benched longer. Sighing, he trained his eyes back on his text book and tried to take the information in.
Then an arrow whizzed in through the open window and stuck in a cork memo board on the opposite wall. Dick went over to the memo board, extracted a familiar looking red arrow, and then poked his head out the open window.
Roy Harper waved up at him. He was crouching in the bushes just below the window. Dick pointed towards the grounds, watched for Roy's nod, and then went to find his shoes.
Ten minutes later they were at a familiar meeting spot on the edge of Bruce's property. It was a little clearing with small boulders just the right size for seats, the ashes of old bonfires, and scattered beer bottles (Roy's) and crushed cans of soda (Dick's).
Roy was lounging against one of the boulders smoking a cigarette when Dick got there. He wasn't exactly pleased to see Roy with a cigarette (after all they weren't meta; he was going to need those lungs), but then, at least it was only a cigarette. Dick quickly looked him over, and catalogued the changes in his friend before he sat down.
Roy looked thinner. He may have lost five pounds since the last time Dick had seen him, which was only two weeks ago at a Titan's meeting. His hair was longer as well, and unkempt, and it had probably been a few days since he'd shaved. He was also pale, with smudges under his bloodshot eyes. His clothes were scrubby and he had a backpack with him. Really, he looked almost homeless.
"So what brings you to Gotham this time?" Dick asked.
"Just wanted to see you," Roy answered. His voice sounded hoarse, unused.
"Is everything alright?" Dick asked, in an attempt to gently provoke deeper conversation. He really needed to be inside working on his calculus so he'd be able to back Bruce up. But there was no way in hell he was leaving Roy alone in the woods when he looked that despondent and ragged. There had to be a quick way to address his problems.
Roy didn't answer Dick. He stubbed out the cigarette, then pulled Dick into a fierce kiss that tasted like smoke, beer, and unbrushed teeth. He flinched and pulled away. "God Roy, would it kill you to have a breath mint first?"
"Sorry. Didn't pack any."
"Where are you staying?" Dick asked, afraid of the answer.
Roy shrugged noncommittally. "Do you gotta grill me right now?"
"Sorry, detective thing." Dick flashed a self-deprecating smile. Roy moved to try to kiss him again and Dick scooched further away. "Will you knock it off? I told you, I'm not doing that anymore unless you end it with Donna."
"You're right. M'sorry." Roy hugged his arms and started rocking back and forth. Dick wasn't entirely sure cigarettes and beer were the only things he'd drank and smoked recently.
Sighing, Dick hesitantly patted Roy's shoulder, and the other teen leaned into the comforting touch. Roy's breathing hitched, and Dick pulled him into a hug. He held him while he rocked back and forth, and wished, not for the first time, that he could really do something for his friend's pain. Though Roy said these meetings helped him, they usually left Dick feeling hollow and useless. For the first couple of years they'd known each other, Dick had tried as hard as he could to help Roy. He'd really invested himself emotionally, but there was no return. Roy kept spiraling, getting worse and worse, and there was nothing Dick could do to stop it.
It seemed like the only way to keep himself sane was to just shut down and stop empathizing, but that idea was abhorrent.
"Don't close down on me Harper. I know you didn't come all the way to Gotham just to shut me out. What happened?"
Roy inhaled deeply, and choked out another hitched breath. Dick didn't think he was going to answer, but he finally broke his silence. "Ollie left."
"What? He what?" Dick couldn't have heard that right. Green Arrow had adopted an orphan. He had to understand that that meant baggage and abandonment issues. He had to know you couldn't just abandon an orphan.
"I got home from school one day and…and he was just gone. We'd had a really huge fight the night before and I guess he just got sick of me or something."
"He didn't say where he went?"
Roy shook his head. "He left a bag of empties in the kitchen with a note on it. Told me to cash 'em in and buy a pizza, because he was going on a trip with Green Lantern and he wasn't sure when he was getting back. I got the pizza, but I didn't get rent money. He's been gone for two months. I started couch hopping but I, I can't keep staying with Corey. It's…it's just not an option."
"Okay." Dick took a deep breath, his hold compulsively tightening around Roy. "I…" He didn't have a clue how to fix this. "Maybe Bruce will let you stay with us for awhile?"
Roy pulled away, stood up, and started pacing. "No. No, no, no-no-no. Can't stay with Batman. That's not, that's not a good plan."
"Well then what did you come here for?" Dick asked.
"I didn't come here to spill my guts, and I certainly didn't come here so you'd go and narc on me to freaking Batman!" Roy snapped.
Dick shot to his feet. "What are you on? I thought you were just a little drunk or something, but it's not that, is it?"
Roy sneered at him. "I'm not on anything at the moment, but that's part of my problem. God, you really are a sheltered little snot for a costumed crime fighter. This is what withdrawal looks like, and Batman'd spot it in a second."
Dick felt that bitter combination of helplessness and hollowness again. "What are you withdrawing from?"
"Does it matter? Fine, I'm a fucking junkie. I'm using heroin, okay? Corey offered me his stash, and I was feeling so worthless I just wanted to forget about myself or curl up and fucking die, so I took it. And then I did it again, and fucking again and again and now I can't stop but there's no more money. I don't know what I'm doing Dick. I'm going crazy." Roy stopped ranting for a second, eyes locking on Dick's terrified looking blue ones. Dick's hands were shaking. Roy stepped back, and fumbled around by the boulders for his bag. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry Dick. I shouldn't be unloading this shit on you. It's not your shit. You shouldn't have to worry about me."
"Wait, wait don't…" Dick grabbed Roy's arm and shook it until he dropped his bag. He grabbed Roy and pulled him close for a crushing kiss, not caring about the smoke or the beer on his breath. "There's got to be a way I can help you," Dick insisted.
Roy cupped his face in his hands and brushed his thumb over Dick's cheekbone. "I really wish you could. But we know how this is gonna end. I'm gonna wind up back in Star with my buds, putting poison in my veins so I can ignore my demons a little longer."
"Can't you just stop?" Dick asked, voice breaking on the words. He closed his eyes, wincing at how pathetic he sounded.
"Maybe," Roy said, unable to make even that noncommittal statement sound believable. "I'm really sorry Dick. I shouldn't have come out here. It was selfish. I just thought…I thought seeing you might make me feel better."
It was selfish of him. He never unloaded like this on his girlfriend, on Donna. That privilege was reserved for his kind-of sort-of boyfriend.
They kissed again, and Roy apologized some more, told Dick how beautiful he was and that Roy didn't deserve him, his usual ramblings when he felt guilty and horny. Dick kissed him to shut him up, and tried to drown the inner voice that told him this might be the last time he saw Roy, that his bad choices were going to catch up to him, that the path he was headed could only end one way, and instead Dick tried to memorize everything about Roy at that very moment, from the scratch of stubble against his skin to the feel of his strong hands clinging to Dick's back.
"You should go," Roy murmured. "It's a school night, right?"
"Yeah. But what about you? I can't just leave you."
"Sure you can. Dick, I'm not your problem."
'Then why are you here?' Dick thought angrily. "I won't leave unless I know you're going to be safe."
"I have a few couches left. I'll be fine, really." Roy was unconvincing at best, but Dick didn't have the mental energy to argue with him. He planted a quick goodbye kiss on Roy's mouth, left for the manor, and didn't turn around again until he'd gotten inside.
Focusing on the calculus homework after that just wasn't going to happen.
Heroin. Roy was using heroin. He really was going to die, and Dick didn't know how to save him.
Dick went down to the Batcave and waited for Bruce. When the batmobile finally pulled into the cave a few hours later, he was still sitting by the computer. Bruce pulled down his cowl as he approached his ward, looking none too pleased to see him.
"You should either be upstairs working on your schoolwork or sleeping. I'm not changing my mind until you pull your grades back up."
Dick faced him unflinchingly. "I want you to find Green Arrow. He should be with Green Lantern somewhere."
Bruce narrowed his eyes. "What's this about?"
"Mr. Queen needs to go back to Star City. Will you tell him that for me? It's really important."
"Fine. I'll mention it at the next Justice League meeting. Now go to bed."
Dick nodded, and went back upstairs.
PRESENT
"Um…anyone want a coffee? I think coffee sounds like a…yeah. Anyway, I'm getting one. Be right back." After choking out his nervous stream of chatter, Wally disappeared from the sickroom in a flurry of anxious movement, leaving Dick and Donna at Roy's bedside.
At the moment, Donna had the privilege of holding Roy's one unresponsive hand. Dick was staring at the other side, the stub. He'd seen amputees before, but this was painfully different and he couldn't look away. Two days ago he'd had that arm around him. He'd twined fingers with the hand that no longer was, and sucked them into his mouth to tease his boyfriend.
"He's going to wake up. He's strong. He-he'll wake up," Donna said heavily. Dick couldn't tell if she was talking to him or herself.
Probably mostly to herself, but Dick wasn't exactly in a place to give comfort. "And what happens when he does?"
Donna closed her eyes and squeezed Roy's hand more forcefully. "I don't know. We'll help him pull through, I guess."
Dick shook his head, but he didn't say anything. Roy had always kept his worst traits from Donna. His love of her had come with a certain amount of idealization and even something bordering on idolatry. He'd loved Donna for the perfection he believed her to embody, and hoped that by being close to her some of it might rub off on him. She had no idea what kind of lows he was capable of, of how much of a mask his strength was, and how deeply the cracks in that strength penetrated.
Dick had no illusions about that. The only thing that had pulled Roy out of his self-destructive life was finding out about Lian. Roy had shown Dick everything, and he'd almost gone under with the guy last time his life fell apart. And that just wasn't an option this time. Dick wasn't Robin anymore. He was Batman, and he had the entire city of Gotham to look after, and Damian. He needed to take care of Damian. No one else understood the kid like he did.
Dick kept up the silent vigil, all the while knowing he couldn't destroy himself for Roy this time, no matter how much he loved the guy.

"Damian, are you alright? Do you need anything?"
Damian let his head fall to his chest, sat up straight, and slowly opened his eyes. He was sitting in a lotus position on Jai's bedroom floor, where he'd been meditating for what felt like hours.
Mrs. Park-West was standing in the doorway. She looked unsure of herself, and he felt all the more consciously like a burden in her home.
"I'm fine."
She nodded, clearly not believing him but giving token acceptance to his premise. She crossed the room and sat down on her son's bed. "If you want to talk, I'll listen. Dick told me you were friends with Lian."
"I suppose I was." He'd never really bothered with friends before. There was that boy, Colin, but they'd barely seen each other. Lian really had been it. His burgeoning social abilities, choked off by a supervillain he only vaguely remembered reading about in the Batcomputer before the friendship could really bloom. Injustice didn't begin to adequately express the situation.
She was so young. It never should have happened. They were supposed to protect children from things like this.
There was a hand gently squeezing his shoulder, and for the first time in possibly his entire life Damian felt no urge to break the offender's wrist for the sudden violation of personal space. He was caught up in his grief. Mrs. Park-West smoothed back some of his hair in a motherly gesture, and that hurt too. His own mother would never comfort him for emotional distress. He was showing weakness.
Were relationships always this painful? Why did Dick want him to socialize so much if it gave villains this much power over you?
"Damian, I'm so sorry for your loss. She was a sweet little girl, and we're all going to miss her. But you'll be okay. It hurts for a little while, and then eventually you can look back on your memories with her and treasure them for what they are. They're special, and you'll be glad you have them," Mrs. Park-West whispered.
Damian nodded, a sort of emptiness replacing the wrenching pain he'd been feeling. He welcomed it. It was familiar, though it sometimes lead to cruel utterances.
"Thank you Mrs. Park-West. I'd rather be alone now."
"Alright. We're going to have dinner soon. Do you want me to call you down when it's ready, or do you want me to have one of the kids bring you a plate up here?"
"I'd like to be alone. A plate will be fine."
She gave his shoulder another squeeze and then quietly left the room, shutting the door behind her. Damian closed his eyes and tried to resume his meditation.

When Dick picked him up he didn't bother trying to talk about the Harpers, and Damian was grateful. He barely understood the new feelings he was experiencing. Trying to articulate them felt like an impossible task. They lost themselves in work, and after a few days things felt almost normal.
Damian started avoiding his room though. He still had those crayon drawings Lian had sent him taped up by his desk, and whereas he didn't want to take them down, he couldn't stand the thought of looking at them just yet.
When Roy woke from his coma Dick left again, but this time he didn't force Damian to intrude on another family. Damian remained at the penthouse with Alfred, and he distracted himself by rereading his father's write-ups on the most important Crises. For whatever reason, they certainly were experiencing a lot of Crises lately, and Damian thought it best to be prepared for more.
Then Alfred brought in the mail and set down a package addressed for Damian. He glanced at it over the top of the file he was holding, then quickly held the papers above his face, blocking the package from view. "Pennyworth, would you kindly dispose of that?"
"Is something wrong master Damian?"
"No, nothing. I've no use for any more plastic ponies at the moment, however."
He heard the butler sigh, but he dutifully took the unopened package and carried it from the room. A moment later he was back, sitting across from Damian and sorting through the remaining mail. "The funeral should be soon, now that the girl's father has awakened. Are you and master Dick attending?"
Damian's hands shook on the file, but he wouldn't lower it. "I don't know."
"It might help, sir, to bring about a sense of closure?"
"If I achieve a sense of closure, then that means she's really gone you imbecile!" He tossed the file onto the coffee table, jumped to his feet, and started pacing. "And why is it that everyone is grieving over her oaf of a father anyway? He's not dead! And if he feels bad, then he ought to, because it's his fault she's dead! He was supposed to protect her! He was in the Justice League and that's what the Justice Leage does, it protects people! I told Grayson he didn't belong, but he wouldn't listen to me. No one listened and now she's dead and it's too late to fix anything."
"It isn't Mr. Harper's fault that Miss Lian is dead," Alfred said, in a carefully measured tone. Damian sneered, and Alfred cut him off. "And it isn't master Dick's, or yours either. It was a senseless tragedy. I do think though, that it was kind of you to hold this in while master Dick has been present. He certainly didn't need to hear that from you."
"I wasn't-I wasn't being careful of him."
"I think you were."
"Well you don't know anything." Damian snatched up the file and left to finish his reading in the bunker.
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Birds and Bees