Chapter Text
No one knew this, but Damian had a favorite period of the day. He liked the afternoon, before the sun had set, when it was almost too bright and blinding, yet yellow and soft at the same time. When he had the chance, he’d use these hours to draw under the sunlight. Today, he had the chance, and he sat on the ground, adding never ending details to the picture of Titus as the dog napped besides him. He was marveled by how the sun hit his fur, making it look sleek and shiny.
He slowly breathed in and out, setting his work aside, leaning his head back, feeling the harsh and warm ground under his palms. The scent of roses filled the air. Alfred’s bushes were the ones closest to the building, surrounding the house. At first, Damian viewed it as a matter of worth; roses were an expensive flower, so they should be closer to the manor, protected by the cheaper plants. Of course, now he could understand the placement was merely a matter of convinience. If they were on the edge of the garden Alfred’s time with the plants would be cut short due to the distance he’d have to walk, which lead to the decision from his grandfather (or he assumed so, seen as Bruce was opposed to any major changes on the house’s appearence) of keeping them closer. There were many expensive flowers planted on the edge of the garden.
He heard footsteps that he recognized as his father’s.
“That looks really good Damian.” He said, looking at the drawing on the floor.
“It’s not finished yet.” He replied, not looking at Bruce’s face. He heard him shift his weight.
“Well then.” He was unconfortable, that much Damian could tell “I didn’t know you draw.”
“Me neither.” He shrugged “I started drawing here. Mother wasn’t exactly fond of me waisting time with the arts. As the... Demon’s son, this isn’t what was expected of me.”
“I see.”
“Is there something wrong father?” He looked up.
“No.” Bruce sat down besides him, and the boy moved his gaze to the flowers in front of them. “I see you like Alfred’s roses.”
“They’re well cared for.”
“Indeed.”
“Tell me.” Damian turned his head to face him. His father seemed confused “I can tell you came here because you need to tell me something.”
“I just...” He sighed, and his head dropped “I know I haven’t been exactly a loving father. I...”
“Spare me father.” Damian interrupted “You and I both know I’m well past the need for coddling.” He looked ahead again “I have no use for that in my life.”
“What I meant to say is that lately I feel like I have been seeing you too much as Robin and too little as Damian.”
“Don’t apologize for this father. Knowing you judge me worthy of being Robin is enough for me.”
“It’s not enough for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m your father, not your coach. I should be... Doing things fathers do. Taking you to the park, reading for you at night...”
Damian thought for a moment.
“Tell me father, did you have those thoughts about Grayson too, in his childhood?” Bruce looked at him, a little confused, but didn’t respond “Did you took him to the park? Did you read for Todd? Maybe you did it for Drake? Or Cain?” The man raised his eyebrows and swallowed.
“Not as often as I wish I had.”
“I’m well aware.” He looked at his father “I’m not like them. I don’t want to go to the park, or play catch, or having a bed time story read to me. And if I want any of those things, I’m sorry, I wouldn’t ask them of you.” Bruce wasn’t sure on how to continue this conversation, but he didn’t have to “Don’t be upset. I’m not saying I wouldn’t want to spend time with you. I like spending time with you. I simply don’t think you’d enjoy those mundane activities as much as... Say Grayson or Jon, as an example. So I ask them, because they get something out of this too.”
“And what makes you think I wouldn’t get something out of it too?” Bruce inquired. Damian got quiet for a second.
“Instinct.” Bruce smiled.
“For the first time in forever, Damian, you are wrong.”
“How come?”
“Your experience with family is...skewed.” He sighed “I’m not like the Al Ghul’s Damian.”
“Is that supposed to be an insult?”
“No. It’s supposed to show you that I do take pleasure on partaking in ‘mundane activities’ with you.”
“Oh.”
“However, I will understand if you don’t have any wish on interacting with me in that way.”
Damian once again was silent, pensive. A bee set itself on a blue rose for a moment before going back to it’s hive. He opened his mouth:
“Maybe... Not a park, but... It’s been a while since I’ve last practiced rock climbing.” He stared at his father.
“I’ll arrange a trip. Is saturday a good day for you?”
“Yes.” Bruce nodded and moved to get up “Wait.” He asked “Stay here. The sun will set soon.”
“Okay.” He accepted the invitation, and settled again.
They sat side by side, none of them saying a word. The silence was confortable. It was a rare warm day in Gotham, and Bruce soon had to shrug off his suit, leaving it behind him. The boy held his legs close to his chest as the sky slowly turned orange, and the clouds took on a pink tone. He scooted closer to his father, setting his head on his broad shoulders, sighing happily. Maybe mundane is nice too.