Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Damian didn’t know how to feel.

Ever since he could remember he had ached to meet his father. He remembered being a child, and his mother would go on and on about his father. She would say how he was a big, strong warrior. She would describe how he valued loyalty and justice. How he protected the weak, and defended his home. She would describe how tall, and handsome he was.

Damian had looked up to him. Longed to meet him, and to become just like him. He wanted to be just like the loyal, mighty, and just warrior his father was. Damian hadn’t even met him, and yet he wanted nothing more than to be exactly like him.

He wanted his mother to love him just as she had loved his father. He knew wanting his mother’s approval was childish, and below him, but he couldn’t help but long for it.

He would lay down at night, and just stare at his ceiling, imagining what could have been. What could have happend if his father was with them. If he had stayed.

If he and his mother had stayed together.

He could easily Imagine his father, tall, strong and mighty fighting alongside Damian and his mother. They would be the best. They would be the strongest team the world had ever seen. Damian imagined his father looking at him as only a father could look at his son, and tell Damian he was proud of him.

Proud of who Damian was growing to be.

He allowed himself to selfishly wish for his mother to tell him he was exceptional, that she was proud of him.

That she cared for him.

He let his imagination run throughout the nights he couldn’t sleep, but when the sun started to peek over the horizon he was forced back to reality.

His father wasn’t there. He didn’t know his father, he never had. His mother didn’t feel pride in him. She didn’t tell him she cared.

So Damian forced himself to stop. Stop with his childish and foolish daydreams. All it will do is distract him. It would only weaken him.

But no matter how much he tried, no matter how much he distracted himself with training and perfecting himself, he still wished for something that would never be.

He knew it was foolish. He didn’t even know his fathers name, and yet here he was, missing someone he had never even met.

Finally, on his tenth birthday, he beat his mother in combat. And just as she claimed she would, she told Damian who his father was.

She sent Damian to his father.

At the time, Damian had been grateful. Thankful that he would finally be able to meet his father. His idol.

It had been a dream come true. Damian was finally meeting his father. He would finally get to learn and grow from the best warrior there was. So mighty and just that he had gotten Talia al Ghoul’s attention.

Damian was living his dream life for the first couple months. He got past the ‘attempting to kill his siblings’ phase, and they finally started acting like true brothers. Damian could even swear that when his father looked at him, his eyes were filled with pride and affection.

But Damian soon realized just how childish he had been. The longer he stayed with his father and his family, the quicker realization set in. His father and his mother hadn’t been in love like his mother had claimed. They were together, for a time, but that was that.

His father didn’t even know he existed.

He had originally taken pride in the fact that he was the only blood son, but even that was a childish dream. He may be his fathers only biological child, but his father had hand picked every one of his other children. He had chosen them.

He hadn’t chosen Damian. Damian had been dumped on him.

As he watched his father interact with his siblings, watched his father admit how proud he was, and how much he loved them, Damian couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Why couldn’t his father love him like that? Why couldn’t he be as worthy as his siblings?

It was around the time he started realizing he wasn’t cared for was when the odd feeling in his throat started.

At first he just passed it off as a cold, but it didn’t subside. In fact, it only seemed to get worse. Every time his father would ignore him, every time his siblings would get his fathers love and attention, and he would get nothing, the itching in his throat would get worse.

Damian had been admiring his father’s vigilante work from afar until he finally became Robin. It used to be the only thing he wanted. After all, Robin fought side by side with Batman. All those day dreams of him and his father fighting alongside each other soon became a reality, but it wasn’t nearly as great as his mind had made it out to be.

In his mind, he pictured him and his father dominating their enemy’s, complementing each other with their combined skills, and knowledge.

But that was just Damian’s pride talking. His father did show his skills in combat, and his knowledge, but Damian couldn’t help but feel like he was a set back to the mission.

Even on nightly patrols, he couldn’t help but feel like he was setting his father back.

In the league, the weakest link was killed, and only the strongest were to stay. Damian couldn’t help but feel anxious every time he slipped up. Every time he was sloppy and allowed himself to get injured, his heart would speed up against his will. Even as his father tended to his wounds, Damian was stiff. He wished his father would yell at him for being weak instead of looking at him with disappointment in his eyes, and pretending to gently tend to Damian as if he really cared.

But Damian knew better. He was ashamed of Damian. Ashamed that his son was weak, and foolish. That he wasn’t as mighty and perfect as him.

It was one particular night that the feeling in his throat grew more than a scratch.

His whole family had been enjoying a rare family dinner. Cass had made time to join, and even Jason had decided to attend.

Damian should have been happy. He should appreciate the time with his family, but it was almost impossible when he knew that he would be the only one to enjoy it. It would be much more enjoyable for his family if he wasn’t there. Then it truly would be a family dinner, attended only by family members. Because Damian may be part of the family by blood, but that was it. He knew it, and so did everyone else.

“—and then it all made sense. The fingerprints were different because he had an accomplice. It had been two people the whole time, and honestly I’m surprised it took me this long to figure out.” Tim finished, taking a bite of his food.

Bruce gave a rare smile, and clapped Tim on the shoulder. “I’m amazed that you managed to figure it out at all, let alone so quickly. The case was cold for nearly four years. I’m so incredibly proud of you, Tim.”

Tim took a drink of water to hide the heat on his cheeks. “Yeah, we'll, it was a pretty easy case.”

Damian tried to swallow his salad, but it was harder than usual. Once he managed to force it down, he felt something stuck in his throat. He swallowed some water in irritation, but the lump didn’t go away.

“And what about you, Jason? I heard how you turned in the drug dealer that we’ve been on for weeks.”

Jason looked up, seemingly not expecting to be addressed. “Yeah, we'll, they were idiots. Didn’t cover their tracks, so they really did my job for me.”

“We'll, I'm glad you got them. I’m proud of you, Jason.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Jason mumbled, but Damian could easily tell that he took Bruce’s words to heart.

Damian heard his father start up a conversation with Cass, but he couldn’t hold on a cough. It started out as nothing, but when the lump in his throat refused to budge
It got progressively louder. He tried to muffle it, but he could still feel multiple eyes on him.

“You okay, kiddo?” Grayson asked.

Damian was aware that his family was giving him concerned looks, but he ignored them for his own pride.

Damian felt something budge from his throat. Probably a piece of lettuce.

Damian nodded, and got up, mumbling something about using the bathroom.

He walked quickly so nobody would follow him, and closed the door when he arrived. Damian quickly made his way to the sink, and spat out whatever was clogging his throat. He was expecting some piece of lettuce, or maybe even a piece of broccoli, but what he saw was neither of those.

Instead, he was staring straight at a flower petal.

It was a light pink color, delicate and beautiful. Damian furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

Why in the world had he coughed up a flower petal?

Damian threw the petal away, and washed his hands. He had probably somehow inhaled it the last time they had fought poison ivy. It hadn't been that long ago, after all.

Damian cleared his throat, content when there was no longer something uncomfortably stuck in his throat. Just as he shut the water off, he heard a soft knock on the door.

“You okay in there, baby bat? I don’t need to break this door down and give you the heimlich do I?” Came Jason’s voice.

“No, I am perfectly fine. Even if I wasn't, I'm perfectly capable of clearing some mere sustenance from my throat.”

He heard Jason scoff. “Whatever you say, kid. I can’t believe I walked all the way over here for nothing.”

“It’s not my fault you decided to follow me, Todd.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” There was a pause.

“I’m not thanking you, if that's what you're waiting for.”

He waited till he heard Jason's heavy boots start back towards the dining room.

“‘Thanks for checking in on me, Jason.’ ‘thanks for making sure I wasn’t choking to death.’” He heard Jason’s retreating mumble.

Damian ignored his brother in favor of looking down at the flower petal that was now sitting in the trash. He turned on his heels, heading back out of the bathroom, not giving the petal a second glance.

—---------

Damian dismissed the petal from his mind.

He had nearly forgotten about the petal after three days. Everything had returned to normal, with his siblings bickering, and his father burying himself in his case work. His coughing fit at dinner was forgotten, and the petal had completely slipped his mind.

Until it happened again.

This time, he had been patrolling. Father was working on an important case, so Damian had to go out without him. That gave him the option of patrolling with Dick, Jason, or Tim. Damian had originally protested, claiming that he could patrol on his own, only for Jason to tell him that he was allowed to patrol by himself once he could reach the top shelf without using the step stool.

Damian wasn’t even close.

So, he begrudgingly went on patrol with Drake. It was the last thing he wanted to do. He would much rather go with Grayson, or even Todd, but they had last minute calls they had to attend to. He had originally refused to hold onto Drake, but his brother refused to leave until he did. Damian knew Drake was not any happier about it than Damian, but Tim didn’t want Damian to fall off. He refused to leave until Damian was secure.

So that's how Damian found himself riding on the back of Red Robin’s motorcycle, holding onto his brother. Neither commented on how Drake drove slower than he usually did, making sure his little brother was safe, or how Damian eventually pressed his cheek to Tim’s back.

Patrol went surprisingly smooth. They stopped a bank robbery, turned in a drug dealer, and stopped a mugging. Even Though it was a simple night, Damian couldn’t help but think they had made a good team.

He took a sip of his water, and watched as Tim downed his third cup of coffee. Drake had insisted they went to Coffee Master to celebrate their ‘first subtle patrol’ but Damian knew he really just wanted a cup of coffee.

They were perched on the side of a building, high engorge that nobody would be able to listen in on their conversations.

“And the guy who grabbed the whole dang ATM? Hilarious! I've never seen somebody rip an entire ATM from the side of a building before.”

Damian couldn't hold back a small smile. “Yes, he was very foolish to do that right in front of us.”

“I know right? And the guy that pulled a gun at seven eleven just to get the bathroom key, now that was something.”

“He should have just used a bush like a real man. When I was in the league, bathrooms were specifically reserved for special occasions.”

Tim choked on his coffee. “Oh my God, really? How did you, like, clean off?”

“Tt. We would use toilet paper, obviously. We were not animals, Red Robin.”

“What if someone was, uh, super constipated?”

“You really want me to go into detail?”

“Actually, no. Please don’t.”

Damian snickered, and took a drink of his water. He couldn’t help but think that they hadn’t even argued once tonight. They had obviously done their usual bickering, and teasing, but it was in the typical sibling way. Not in the violent way it sometimes was. Not like it used to be.

He had noticed it was more common as of late to find that they were no longer at eachothers throats. They still disagreed and disputed from time to time, but it was common among siblings.

Siblings, he realized.

They were acting like siblings. Damian couldn’t help but long for that sibling relationship that seemed to be growing. Damian knew better than to hope for the best. It was seen like his siblings were growing fond of him, but he knew the truth. He was an outsider, intruding in their family. Intruding in their lives. Intruding in their happiness.

But against all his better judgment, against his common sense, he still hoped. Hoped that he could squeeze into their already complete family. Hoped that his dream of having a family wouldn’t have to be only a dream.

Damian felt a lump in his throat, and before he could stop himself he coughed, covering his mouth with his elbow as he gave aggressive coughs.

“Woah, you okay Robin?” He grabbed onto Damian’s arm, as is making sure he wouldn’t fall off the building.

Damian felt something come up, but he forced himself to swallow. He cleared his throat.

“I’m fine.”

————

Damian sat on the medical coat as his father patted him down for injuries.

Him and his father had just returned from patrol, and Damian found that it was harder than usual. He had a harder time keeping up with Batman than he usually did. He really tried, but he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. No matter what he did or how many breaks he took his lungs couldn’t gather enough air. It didn’t help that Gotham was significantly warmer than usual, and since he and his father had done an early patrol, they were bombarded by the sun’s relentless rays. Damian noticed himself lacking, and gasping for breath where he would usually be running with ease.

His father had noticed as well.

“Father, I assure you, I’m not ill.”

Bruce didn’t look at his son's face, but rather continued to search for any hidden injuries. “Damian, sweetheart, nobody’s going to judge you for being sick. It happens to everyone, and when it does happen we need to take care of you. Not because you're weak, or because you're being punished, but because we want to help you get better.”

“There is no need, father. It’s simply a mere cough. Nothing more.”

His father finally finished patting Damian down, and stood up. Instead of going back to the computer, or his case work, he made direct eye contact with Damian. His eyes were soft, but filled with concern.

“Son, I trust your telling me the truth, but if and when you are sick, I want you to tell me, understand?”

“Yes, father.”

“And that includes simple things like a cough. I know you don’t think it’s worth mentioning, but I do. If it's causing you to lose your breath, or preventing you from fending off an attack, then I need to know. I can't have you getting hurt, especially because of something that could have been easily avoided.”

“I understand, Father, but I assure you that I am more than capable of fending off any attacker.”

“I know you can, Son, but sometimes there are things that we can't control. Even something as little as a cough could be harmful to you, or others, in battle. It’s best if we do what we can. I want you to tell me how you're feeling tomorrow before we go on patrol, and if you don’t feel your absolute best, then I'm going to have you stay here. Not because I'm punishing you, but because I want to protect you.”

“I can protect myself.”

“I know, Damian, but you don’t have to. Not anymore.”

Damian stubbornly kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t sure what to say to that, but he also didn’t want to agree to his fathers proposition about tomorrow's patrol. Damian was not keen on sitting out patrol. He was perfectly capable of accompanying his father tomorrow, and no cough was going to stop him.

His father kept eye contact, equally as stubborn as Damian. Damian would have been fine with silently standing off with his father all night, but he felt the familiar itchy lump in his throat. He knew that coughing in front of his father only meant proving that his cough really was a weakness.

So, he begrudgingly stuffed his pride aside, and sighed. “Alright, Father. You win.”

His father nodded in approval. Damian expected Father to leave immediately, but Bruce lingered in front of Damian for a moment before finally leaving him to his own devices.

Damian had been telling the truth. He truly wasn’t sick. All he had was an odd and poorly timed cough. He had never been a sickly child, and when he did manage to get sick, his symptoms never stuck around for long. He didn’t understand why he suddenly had a recurring cough.

Even though he had been truthful to his father, he still felt strangely guilty.

He hadn’t been entirely honest. He really wasn’t sick, but he also didn’t only have a cough. Lately, he realized that the more he coughed, the more of those odd pink petals were coming up. Damian didn’t know what to think of them. He had just chalked it up to inhaling some flowers when fighting poison ivy, but that didn’t entirely make sense either. He had coughed up far more than a single flower worth of petals, and he thought that he definitely would have noticed if he had inhaled a full on garden.

Damian idly wished his father had stayed. He knew his father had much more important things to do, but he couldn’t stuff down his childish wants. He cursed himself for being so weak, and tried to take a deep breath to get control over himself, but he was interrupted by an explosive cough. It rattled his lungs and shook his entire body. He had had some pretty bad coughs, but none were this aggressive. Damian felt something blocking his airway as he tried to cough it up. When he finally managed, his throat was sore, and he felt something much larger than a petal.

His mouth tasted like leaves and blood.

Damian was suddenly grateful that nobody else was in the batcave. He spat what he assumed was a bundle of petals into his gloves hand, but then stopped in shock.

There, sitting in the palm of his hand, was a fully intact pink flower. It was spotted with blood, but Damian could tell it was the same exact kind as the petals he had been coughing up.

Damian tried to process the fact that he had just hacked up a flower, but then he noticed the metallic taste in his mouth.

Damian had coughed up blood and he didn’t know how to feel about that.

Unlike the rest of his petals, Damian didn’t throw this one away. Instead, he held it close to his chest, and made his way towards his room. He needed to find out what kind of flower this was, and why I’m the name of Ra’s Al Ghoul he had coughed it up.

Damian quickly took a shower, and dressed himself in sweatpants, a shirt and socks. He knew he was supposed to be sleeping right now, but he couldn’t even bring himself to entertain the idea. His mind was going a mile a minute as he searched the library for a book about flowers.

Damian had been taught basic plant identification in the league, such as identifying poison as plants, but he had never been taught about flowers. There was simply no reason to. However, at the moment he wished he had.

After nearly ten minutes of searching, Damian finally came across a book about flowers. It was a large, blue book with many cracks on its spine. He was unsure as to why his father would even have such a book in his possession, but Damian wouldn’t complain.

He flipped through the book with little patience. After much too long, it seemed that this book simply didn’t have the same flower he was looking for. Damian nearly put the book back to continue his search, but stopped abruptly when he found what he was looking for.

It was on the very last page, but at least it was in the book at all.

The page showed a picture of a pink flower. One that Damian was coming to despise.

Azalea, it read.

“in which the flower is often a representation of love, both romantic love as well as unconditional and platonic love.
Azalea flowers are known for remembering the fondness of others or even to show love and appreciation while taking care of close members of your family.
The azalea flower is also symbolic of temperance as well as passion, especially as it buds within a new relationship.”
Damian pursed his lips, and tried to think this through.

It was almost laughable how the same flower that had been in him represented family and the formation of new relationships when he couldn't even form his own.

Damian took the flower out of his pocket, where he had put it on his way to the library. It had been partially crushed due to his movement, but Damian didn’t particularly care. He glared at the blossom as if it could give him the answer to his questions.

When he heard the door to the library start to open, Damian shoved the flower back into his pocket. He put on an annoyed face, which wasn’t that hard to do considering the fact that someone had just interrupted his research, and turned to the door.

Dick stood in the doorway. He looked around for a second before his eyes landed on Damian. His features brightened significantly.

“There you are, Little D! I've been looking for you.”

“Can I help you, Grayson?” Damian didn’t try to hide his annoyance.

“Yup! You actually can. You see, Gotham has been really cold-”

“It’s ninety eight degrees.”

“- and I left all my jackets in my apartment-”

“You brought three with you.”

“-And I've been freezing. So, I was thinking. Since you have such a sunny personality, and a warm smile-”

“You want affection, don’t you?”

“Okay, you got me. But in my defense, Jason wouldn't let me hug him anymore, and Tim kicked me out of his room, and I haven't hugged you in so long!”

“You know how I feel about physical touch, Grayson.”

“But I want to cuddle you! I missed you in Bludhaven, can you really blame me for wanting to hug my baby brother?”

“Yes.”

“Daaaami, Please? Just this once. I promise I won't ask you again.”

“We both know that's a lie.”

Dick gave him the biggest puppy dog eyes Damian had ever seen, and he only responded with a glare. So what if Damian secretly wanted a hug from Grayson? He would never admit to it, and he sure wasn’t going to give in. He had been taught how to overcome bodily needs, and how to push past his childish wants. He was a mighty warrior, and he definitely didn’t want to hug his older brother, and…

Damian gave a mental sigh as he felt himself give in. He would give his brother a singular hug, only for this one time.

“Get that look off your face, Grayson. It's unbecoming.” Even as he said this, he stood up, and reluctantly made his way to his brother. Dick lit up like a Christmas light as he noticed Damian’s agreement, and practically bounced on his feet.

“Remember, Grayson, this is a one time thin-”

Damian was cut off when Dick engulfed him in a warm embrace, unable to contain himself for any longer.

And if the hug lasted for far longer than a couple minutes, neither acknowledge it.

—---------

He hadn’t been hungry for days.

It’s not that he had lost his appetite, not at all. Damian was quite hungry, but his throat wouldn't allow him to eat. It was dry as dead leaves, and there was an uncomfortable lump at the back of his throat. He knew that if he tried to swallow anymore than water he would most likely choke. Damian wasn’t fond of that idea. It would be immensely embarrassing.

So, as his family ate their dinner, Damian only picked at his, refusing to eat as he had done for days. He had found himself growing tired, as well. It seemed that the more time he spent with his family, the worse his cough got. The more strange flowers he coughed up, and the more tired he grew. It was harder to breathe, and the lack of breath was getting to him.

The exhaustion got to the point that he finally took up his fathers offer, and sat out patrol.

He didn’t miss the concern that was thrown his way.

Damian attempted to focus on the conversation around him, and continued to idly poke at his food. He felt guilty wasting such good food after Alfred had gone out of his way to prepare Damian a separate meal due to him being vegetarian.

He heard Jason make a remark about something. He said the same thing often, and Damian would usually reply with a remark of his own. Today, he didn’t have the energy.

For some reason, Jason repeated it, but a little louder this time as if he hadn’t been heard the first time.

Damian ignored him in favor of glaring at his food.

Silence grew in the dining room as his family seemed to be waiting for something.

Damian didn’t understand their odd behavior.

After a minute of silence, he heard Grayson loudly clear his throat.

“You not hungry, bud?” Dick asked gently.

Damian looked up, realizing that his family’s attention was on him now. Damian didn’t like being so exposed.

Damian shook his head. “I ate earlier.” He lied.

His family shared a look.

“What did you eat?” Dick asked.

“Yeah, I didn't see you eating anything, brat.” Jason said while pointing his fork in Damian’s direction.

Damian wished they would look away from him. Their eyes were too overwhelming. The longer they looked at him, the more his throat itched.

Even Alfred, who was standing professionally behind Bruce, was looking at Damian.

“Chips.” He responded.

“We still have the same amount of bags we did yesterday.” Tim pointed out.

“I brought the bag up to my room a couple days ago.”

His brothers shared another look, and Damian hated it. He lived with a family that were some of the most skilled detectives alive, so he wouldn’t be surprised if they knew he was lying. Damian was quite disappointed in his bluff. It was weak, but Damian didn’t have anything better. He was just glad Cass wasn’t here. His Father and brothers may be excellent detectives, but Cass was a human lie detector. She would be able to see right through Damian, no matter what he said.

His father placed his fork on the table. “Why don’t you try eating a little more? A couple pieces of broccoli won’t hurt you.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Come on, little D, Just one piece.” Dick practically begged. “Salad is your favorite.”

“I’m aware.”

“Don’t make me force it down your throat,” Jason warned. “I'll do it.”

Damian sent a glare his way.

“I wouldn't mind helping,” Tim added. Damian redirected his glare.

“If I may, young master Damian, I would happily be able to make you some kind of soup. One that will not agitate your throat, and will be quite easy to swallow.”

Ah.

Of course Pennyworth caught on to his problem. Sometimes, Damian wonders why he wasn’t the detective of the family. It was scary how much he knew.

Damian thought about his offer. He was incredibly hungry, and he already knew he could swallow liquids. He might be able to try some soup.

He saw as his family connected the dots between his coughing and lack of eating. Dick even formed an O with his mouth.

Sometimes Damian worried about Gotam being in the hands of these imbeciles.

“If you wouldn't mind, that would be acceptable. Thank you, Pennyworth.”

“Of course, Master Damian.”

Damian was pleasantly suprised that he could in fact swallow the soup. He was finally able to fill his empty stomach, and he could tell that his family was relieved.

Damian knew that they had been concerned for him, and for some reason the thought soothed his throat. Damian gave his thanks once more to Pennyworth as the old man took his dishes.

Damian wasn’t sure why, but the thought of his family caring created warmth in his chest, and he could breath significantly better.

Damian fell asleep feeling significantly more energized

Chapter Text

Damian sat on the arm of the couch as he sketched, searching his drawing for any flaws that needed correction. He had spent all of his energy on his drawing, and no longer wished to draw. He had found that common these days. He had been tiring easier lately, but recently it had gotten even more severe. He didn’t mention it to anyone, because it was really not a big deal. He just assumed that he needed to get more sleep at night.

Grayson sat right next to him, and had an arm slung around Damian’s waist. Damian had halfheartedly protested at first, but eventually gave in to his fate. No matter how much he argued, Dick would always find a way to coddle him. But he didn’t remove himself because he was SO cold. He was dressed in fluffy socks, sweatpants and a hoodie, yet he was freezing. He had to clench his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering. So, he leaned into Grayson, attempting to absorb some of his body heat. It helped, albeit only a little.

Drake and Todd sat besides Grayson, watching whatever movie they had chosen to put on. Damian wasn’t paying attention to the movie, but apparently it was a family favorite.

He guessed that’s why he had never heard of it before.

Only real members of the family were familiar with it. Damian could pretend all he wanted, but no matter how comfortable he got, or how fond of his siblings he grew, he would always be an outsider.

After all, no matter how much you try to force it, not all love is reciprocated.

So Damian didn’t try to invite himself to watch the family movie. Instead, he entertained himself with drawing. After all, he loved drawing. Today, however, it felt bland. His hand was shaking, but he made himself finish his piece.

Damian added the last line to his piece. It was a fully colored drawing of the flower he had coughed up, blood and all. He didn’t need a reference. The image had been seared into his head.

“Oh, come on! Don’t go down there alone, dumbass!”

“Jason, she can’t hear you. We go over this every single time.” Tim stressed, sounding exasperated. Jason had been yelling at the characters the whole movie. Damian found it slightly amusing, but apparently Drake didn’t share his entertainment.

“Yeah but I like yelling, okay?”

“Better at the movie than at anyone else I guess.”

“Hey, I don’t yell at just anyone. Only idiots.”

“You yell at all of us.”

“Exactly what I’m saying.”

Damian felt Dick bend over to try and look at his drawing, but he quickly turned the book away. He didn’t want to explain his odd choice of drawing, or why the flower was spotted with blood.

Sadly, he wasn’t fast enough.

“Woah! That looks great, little D!”

“Let me see.” Jason grabbed at his sketchbook, and he didn’t even try to stop him. He knew it would just be a waste of strength, and really, he didn't have any to spare at the moment.
Jason pulled the sketchbook towards himself, and examined the drawing. Drake leaned in as well.

“Dang, Short stack, this is actually pretty good.” Jason spoke.

“Pretty good? It's amazing!” Dick exclaimed. He pulled Damian from the arm and onto his lap as he ruffled his hair. Damian didn’t have the energy to stop him.

“Yeah, It's incredible.” Tim agreed. “So, what’s it supposed to mean?”

“What do you mean?” Damian asked.

“Does it, like, symbolize something? I just guessed, since the flower has blood on it, that it had some sort of meaning.”

Damian gave an attempt on a shrug, but it didn’t really work in Grayson’s hold. “I guess I just wanted to add some red.” He lied.

“You used my motto, it seems. ‘If it’s lacking, just add blood.’” Jason joked.

Dick swatted his arm. “Jason,”

Damian allowed himself to relax into Dicks chest, but it was mostly out of exhaustion than actual acceptance.

—

Damian sat on the couch in the library, Tim right next to him, and Dick and Jason on the couch directly opposite to them.

Tim and him were huddled up, and in an intense discussion about which card to choose.

The moonlight shone through the window, and the dark blue of the night sky was almost engulfed by dark clouds.

They were playing a fake detective game, and this was the tie breaker round. Dick and Jason had won the first round, only for Damian and Tim to beat them the second time. This round would determine the winners, and Damian was determined to win.

Well, somewhat. He was too fatigued to care as much as he usually would, as he knew if he had been fully healthy, he would be unwilling to do anything but destroy the competition. Now, he still wanted to win, but he was mostly just tired.

The guess that they made now would determine who won or lost. They had two choices between the ‘murderer’ and if they got it right they won. It was between Mrs. Green and Mr Peters.

Their reputation was on the line.

“What do you think?” Tim asked.

Damian thought for a moment. “Mrs. Green. All the evidence points to her.”

“But Mr. Peter was in the same room that it happened in. I would choose him if I were you.” Jason budded in. Damian knew he was just trying to distract him and Tim, so he ignored his other brother.

Tim nodded in agreement with Damian. “I agree. You ready?”

“Ready.”

Tim reached out his hand, picked up Mrs. Green's card, and flipped it over.

They were right.

“Yes!” Tim exclaimed, Throwing his fist into the air.

“No!” Jason cried.

Tim laughed, and tackled Damian into a hug. “Yes! Damian, I love you!”

Damian smiled and returned the hug with the remaining strength he had. However, his smile was a sad one. It was sad because he knew that the words didn’t mean what Damian wanted to mean. Tim had simply meant that he loved that Damian had assisted him in winning. He had meant that he loved that he won. He didn’t love Damian.

Even though he knew this, he allowed himself a moment to imagine that Tim really had meant it. He gave himself a moment to pretend his family loved him just as much as he loved them.

It was nice. It was nice to lie to himself, but deep down he knew the truth. He was simply a forced burden. He was thrown onto them without their approval, and now they were forced to deal with his flawed self.

Damian pretended like he was fine, and made himself bicker and talk with his siblings. It took all of his energy, and he was so cold but he managed to get through three more hours with his siblings. It was pleasant. With all the hair ruffles, side hugs and affection he got throughout the night, he could almost believe he was a real member of the painting. He could almost believe that his family reciprocated his affection, but he would only be fooling himself by thinking that.

But…he could have sworn it was. Maybe Damian was insane, but his brothers seemed to truly enjoy having him there. To enjoy Damian’s presence, even if he wasn’t necessarily saying anything. They seemed to care for him.

But that was insane. They surely didn’t.

Damian listened to the laughter of his brothers as he strayed from the couch area. He barely had any energy to stand, but he had felt a thick lump in his much to dry throat, and he didn’t want his brothers to see him try and cough his lungs out.

He had roamed to where he saw a tissue box, which just happened to be the desk. The flower book Damian had been looking through still sat open on the wood, and Damian looked at the flower pictured on the page. He hadn’t got time to finish reading before Grayson had entered, and had hoped to finish later. He had apparently forgotten.

Damian felt the thing in his throat start to itch, and he grabbed a tissue. Damian coughed into the tissue, and felt a metallic taste fill his mouth. Nothing came up this time, the lump still lodged in his throat. Instead, the white tissue was speckled with red spots.

Damian sneered at his tissue .

He was about to head back with his brothers, but then something caught his eye. Damian picked up the flower book, and scanned his eye on the page, hoping he had seen wrong.

He hadn’t.

“All parts of the azalea plant are considered poisonous,” the text read.

Damian had realized too late that swallowing back down the petals he had coughed up was not the most intelligent idea he had ever had. Especially since he hadn’t checked to see if they were poisonous until after the fact.

Was that why he was feeling so weak?

“You okay over there, little D?” He heard Grayson ask.

Damian turned around, and crumpled the tissue in his hand. He pretended to sniffle as if he just finished blowing his nose.

“Yes.”

Damian threw the blood speckled tissue away, and headed back to where his brothers sat. The words ‘poisonous’ bounced around his head again and again. In the league of assassins he had to eat many poisonous plants so that he could identify when he was feeling symptoms. Apparently he had forgotten some of his training.

Grandfather would be disappointed.

Damian had just felt…safe. He had felt safe at the manor, and he had let his guard down. That fact in itself was against his training, but this was Damian’s family. He felt safe with them, even if they didn’t feel the same way with him.

Once Damian was close enough, Grayson grabbed him and dragged him into his lap making an over exaggerating grunt when Damian landed on him.

He wrapped his arms around Damian’s smaller form, and placed his chin on top of Damian’s head.

“So, who’s up for another round? And I want Damian on my team this time.”

“No, Damian’s my teammate.” Tim argued.

“But you never wanted him on your team before! He’s my little helper.”

“Who are you, Santa? Dick, he can choose his own team, and he wants to be with me!” Tim argued.

Dick tightened his hold on Damian. “Says who?”

“Ask him.” Jason butted in. Three pairs of eyes turned to him, and Damian didn’t have the energy to decide, so instead he just shrugged.

“I don’t care.”

“Me! You want to be with me, right?” Dick gave him the biggest puppy dog eyes.

“No, Damian, we can dominate them again. We make a great team.”

“You had him last time.” Dick whined.

“Y’all can have him. I’ll beat all three of you easily.” Jason said.

Tim and Dick made eye contact, and came to a conclusion. “You're on.”

Eventually, Alfred kicked them out of the library and ordered them to head to bed. After much complaining and protest, they finally separated.

And just like he had said, Jason beat all three of them.

—-------------------------

Damian leaned against the toilet as he waited.

He had woken up with the worst stomach ache he had ever had, and usually he just ignores it. After all, he was a Wayne, and an Al Ghoul. Back in the league you would be beaten if you allowed something as trivial as stomach pain. He had been taught from infancy how to overcome his bodily needs, and yet here he was, hunched over his toilet, waiting for the inevitable bile to come up.

Damian was sure it couldn’t be any later than seven thirty, but Damian usually came down at eight on the dot. He held himself to a strict schedule, and he usually doesn't allow anything to interrupt it. If he didn’t make an appearance for breakfast at eight, then his family would be suspicious. He couldn’t allow them to see him physically compromised. They were already hardly tolerating him, the last thing he wanted was for them to realize just how disposable he truly was. How weak he truly was.

Damian’s throat burned with dryness, and a thick lump sat in the back of his throat. It felt as if he couldn't fully inhale, and the more he coughed, the bigger the lump seemed to get.

Damian closed his eyes as his dry throat attempted to force out whatever was in his throat.

He felt a cough come up, and he placed the sleeve of his hoodie in front of his mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound. Damian’s already abused throat protested against the strain, but Daimian’s coughs were frantic. He needed to get the lump out of his throat. He knew it was another flower, as he had been coughing up more and more recently. He hadn't even an inkling of knowledge as to why, but all he knew was that it seemed to worsen when he was with his family.

At the same time, being around his family could also sooth his aching chest.

It was almost like a catch-22.

Damian finally managed to cough up the flower, and it fell into the toilet water below him. The pink blossom floated on top of the clear water, slowly staining it red with blood. Damian noted how the flower had more of a stem than it did last time. Damian attempted to catch his breath, but he could already feel a new lump appearing.

Damian’s throat was dry as dead leaves, and he had a metallic taste in his mouth. He doesn't know how long he stayed like that. Coughing up flowers until the toilet was full could take ten minutes, or an hour.

It must not have taken very long, because when his siblings came knocking they didn’t sound concerned. Judging by their light hearted voices, it wasn’t even eight yet.

Damian dragged himself out of the bathroom after making sure he looked fine, and opened the door.

“Hey lil D, we’re going outside. You want to come?”

“We’re going to play a huge game of hide and seek tag. It’ll be fun, as long as you're not a wuss.” Jason added.

“You can be on my team this time.” Dick sang. “Tim will just have to team with Jason.”

“You're making it seem like that’s a bad thing.”

“No, I’m just saying that Tim won’t be with Damian this time.” Dick pulled Damian into a hug. “He’s all mine.”

Damian felt warm in his brother's arms. Whether it was his body heat, or the odd warm sensation that he sometimes got around his family, he didn’t know. All he really knew was that he liked it. Damian welcomed the warmth, and leaned into his brother's hug.

“So what do you say, junior? You playin?”

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Damian said, causing his throat to flare up with pain. Grayson squeezed him one last time, and quickly pecked his forehead.

“Okay! We’ll be waiting in the living room. And remember, you're on my team, not Tim’s. Bring a jacket, I don’t want you catching a cold.”

Jason snorted.

“That’s a myth.” Damian grumbled. Jason ruffled his hair, just to be annoying, and Damian closed his door. He considered his options. His brothers were probably inviting him out of pity, not wanting him to feel excluded. He could either stay in his room, and continue to empty his throat of its unwanted floral visitors, or he could join his brothers outside.

Damian thought about how his throat had BURNED when he coughed, and how the sweet clove smell of the flower had made him nauseous. He then thought about when Dick had hugged him. His chest had settled, and his throat had felt warm. It had given him peace.

But did he really want to risk his family seeing his strange cough? It had been particularly bad today. What if he ended up hacking a flower out of his throat when his brothers were watching? What would he do?

What would THEY do?

Would they call him a freak? Would they be concerned?

No matter how much he told himself it wasn’t a good idea, his mind wandered back to his brothers. Sure, he wanted to be around them because it could sooth his aching throat, but that wasn't all. It was a bonus, but the real reason he wanted to be around his brothers was because he had grown quite…fond…of them. Even if the feeling was one sided, Damian still couldn't help but enjoy their presence. Enjoy seeing his family happy, and healthy. He wanted to be around them because he loved them, and he wanted to be a part of their lives. He wouldn't push for it, as he knew he wasn’t welcome, but he would stand aside and wait. Wait just in case he was ever needed. He knew it was a far fetched hope, but if his family ever needed him he would be there. He would offer his life to keep them alive, because it was better that way.

Damian was disposable, and his family was beyond important. Both to Gotham, and the entire world.

And if Damian was being honest, to him too.

Damian made up his mind, and he forced himself to get ready for the day despite the discomfort in his chest.

—-----------------------

“Okay, here's the game plan. No going passed the lawn. Going into the forest means immediate disqualification. Jason, you're with Tim. Damian’s with me, and we hide first. Understood?”

The sun warmed Damian’s skin, and he had to squint his eyes to see in the bright light. It didn’t help that- due to his unimpressive height- he had to look up at his siblings. The grass poked at his legs, and gave him the urge to scratch himself.

This was only the first game they were starting, even though they had planned to start as soon as Damian came out of his room. The delay happened due to Tim and Dick arguing about who’s team Damian would be on, and after flipping a coin, Dick had won. Damian didn’t understand why they were arguing about him. Why would they pretend to want him on their team? Wouldn’t he only slow them down?

That didn’t stop his brothers from arguing about who he was teaming with.

“Give us five minutes to find a good hiding spot, and then the game begins.” Dick rubbed his hands together in anticipation, and then clapped Damian on the back.

“You ready?”

Damian nodded. “Of course I'm ready.”

Tim raised his hand. “Can I just say that the roof is off limits? Last time when someone hid on the roof it didn’t end well.”

“Good point.” Dick agreed. “No roofs. Oh, and outside only. Alfred would kill me if any of you brought mud inside. Now, are we ready?”

Once everyone nodded, they began. Dick tugged at Damian’s arm and they began to seek out a good hiding place.

“I have to count now, don’t I?” Jason asked.

“One of us has to do it, and I’m not keeping count for five minutes. So yeah, you're doing it.” Tim confirmed.

Jason sighed. “Fine, whatever. One…two…three-“

When Dick pulled him to the backyard, a bush caught his eye. It was a large push filled with pink flowers.

The same ones he had been coughing up.

Damian made a mental note to avoid that bush.

——————————-

After completely destroying Jason and Tim in hide and seek tag, they had turned in for lunch. As always, Alfred had prepared a delicious meal. The whole time they ate, Damian and his brothers couldn’t help but ramble on and on about their game.

Damian took another bite of his salad, and thought about how similar swallowing the lettuce had been to swallowing the flower petals.

The flowers he had been coughing up were a lot worse to swallow. He had to stop forcing the flowers back down after he started to cough up multiple at a time. Until earlier. Damian had coughed another addition to his garden while playing with his brothers, and forced himself to swallow it because he couldn’t risk his brothers seeing it. Thankfully this time it had only been a singular flower. When it was at its worst, Damian could cough up to four flowers at once.

It was not easy on his throat in the slightest. The first couple days he had to eat soup due to the irritation in his throat.

The liquids had helped his throat, but did nothing to stop his floral problem. Damian had decided to ignore it, and start to eat his normal meals again.

Alfred’s soup was fantastic, but after eating it three meals a day for almost a week Damian found himself craving for his usual food.

Lunch was taking much longer than usual. The time they usually spend eating was now used for talking. They had been rambling to Bruce and each other about the time they had outside.

After all, it wasn’t every day they got to hang out. Their vigilante work was incredibly dark, and could take up all their time. It was nice to be able to relax and act like a real family for once.

Damian paused in thought.

He had referred to his family as if it involved him.

And…maybe it did?

This was going to sound crazy and absolutely absurd, but during their time outside Damian couldn’t help but feel whole. He might have been imagining things, but he felt like his brothers sincerely enjoyed having Damian outside with them.

But that was crazy…right?

“How’s your throat feeling, sweetheart?” Bruce asked. Damian looked up to meet his fathers eyes.

“It’s fine. Still kind of sore, but it’s better.” He answers truthfully.

He usually wouldn’t admit to any kind of discomfort, but he found that denying it only made his family more concerned. It was better to swallow his pride and admit any problem than having them fret over him.

“Do you still have that cough?”

Damian briefly considered denying it, but if he ended up coughing where anybody would see him then that would only make matters worse.

“Yeah,” he answered.

His father nodded in acknowledgment. “Are you sick, or is it just the cough?”

Damian took a sip of his water. “It’s just the cough.”

“We were running around all day, and he didn’t seem tired or unwell at all. If he is sick he’s pretty dang good at hiding it.” Jason commented.

That made Damian crack a smile. No, he wasn’t sick in a normal sense, but he had managed to keep the odd flower problem hidden. It’s not that he wanted to keep secrets from his family, but he didn’t want to worry them.

It’s not exactly normal to cough up a whole plant.

After lunch had finished, Damian excused himself to go into his room. His original idea had been to finish a painting he was working in, but his plans changed.

He had left two minutes ago, and Damian was still trying to find his room.

Damian had been feeling…confused when he started his trip to his bedroom. He didn’t know why he felt so confused, but for the past couple of minutes he hadn’t been comprehending anything. It was simple, everyday stuff, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to understand. He saw all the pictures on the wall, and knew that some of them were even painted by him, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember who the people in the portrait were.

Damian had seemed to have forgotten where he was. He faintly knew that he was in a hallway but he couldn’t remember which way to turn to get to his room.

Damian stood still in the hall, attempting to gather himself. He stared at the cornered floor, and wondered how in the world he had forgotten these things. Not even ten minutes ago he would have been able to tell anyone where every crack and bump on every inch of the wall was, and now he couldn’t even remember the way to his own room.

Damian faintly thought that he should tell someone what was going on but two thoughts stopped him. One, if he couldn’t even figure out where his room was he probably wasn’t going to have any better luck with finding anyone else’s.

The next thing that came into his mind was that he couldn’t bother them like that. He had just taken up three hours of their time outside, he couldn’t bother them with his problems.

His throat had closed off significantly more than it had before, which Damian hadn’t been sure was possible. He noticed that he was incredibly cold most of the time, which was odd considering the fact it was mid summer, and just a couple days ago he had been complaining about the heat.

Yet, even though his skin felt like it was about to freeze off, he was sweating.

Damian had ignored it at first, which was a bad decision on his part. His heart seemed to be beating as if he had just ran a marathon, yet he was exhausted beyond belief.

Damian kept his gaze on the dark red carpet below him, and thought about how thirsty he was.

The carpet almost seemed to be coming towards him. This was odd. Carpets can’t fly, can they? Did father have a magic carpet? Were they Aladdin?-

Thud.

Oh. He was falling towards the carpet. Not the other way around. That made more sense.

Damian lay in a fetal position, and he wondered how he had got there. Just a couple minutes ago he had been hanging out with his brothers, and now he couldn’t even find his room. Damian didn’t understand.

But then again he didn’t understand a lot of things right now.

Damian didn’t want to get up. The carpet was surprisingly comfortable, and Damian was tired. Plus, he had been feeling nauseous when he was standing. It was nice down here.

He doesn't know how long he laid there. It could have been five minutes or five hours. It must have been a while because eventually, he heard footsteps approaching the hallway he was lying in.

If he had been his normal self he would have been able to identify the person by their footsteps in a second. He would also not be caught dead lying on the floor, but here he was. Damian closed his eyes without really realizing it.

Damian heard the footsteps round the corner, and then came to a sudden halt. There was a pause, and then the footsteps were running towards him.

“Damian!”

The person landed on their knees next to him, and turned him over. Maybe they were talking to him, but he couldn’t concentrate. Damian peeled his eyes open, and looked at the person who had disturbed his rest.

Oh. It was Drake.

Tim was leaning over him, and he was freaking out. His hands were fluttering around Damian as he didn't exactly know what to do, and his mouth was moving. Damian couldn’t hear what he was saying.

He blinked sluggishly at Drake, and tried to make his brain work. Tim must have yelled something because he saw three more figures round the corner and run their way.

After that things were a blur. He felt somebody pick him up, and start to bring him somewhere. Damian was really tired, and he allowed himself to close his eyes.

He might have passed out, because the next thing he knew he was laying down

—------------------------------

“You better lay your ass back down right now, or so help me,” Jason threatened when Damian had tried to sit up from his lying position on the medical cot.

“This is completely unnecessary.” Damian grumbled.

After regaining awareness, Damian was told he had gone into shock. Thankfully, is father had treated shock before and managed to give him the proper care before his condition could worsen.

If Tim hadn’t found him when he had, Damian would probably be dead.

His family was freaking out, and they had taken some of his blood, and run some tests. As far as his family was concerned, Damian had entered shock with no explanation. Damian knew better.

“All parts of the azalea plant are considered poisonous,” The book had read. Damian had been a fool to swallow the flowers without knowing if they would harm him, and he was an even greater fool to swallow them after he knew they were poisonous.

It had slipped his mind at the time, but Damian cursed himself for forgetting such an important detail.

Damian knew full well that poison could cause someone to fall into shock, but he had unwisely forgot about it.

Damian had no other choice but to lay down and hope the test didn’t reveal his flower problem. He had no idea how he was going to explain this to his family.

The results were loading, and his father was standing unnecessarily close to the screen as the loading sign spun. Dick was sitting directly to his right. He had Damian’s small right hand gripped tightly in both of his own, and he was chewing on his lip, a nervous habit of his. Tim was perched on the end of the medical cot. Jason was pacing back and forth while awaiting the results, but turned to face Damian after he spoke.

“Cut the crap, kid. You went into shock for Christ sake. God, what did you eat?”

“Food.” He deadpanned.

“What usually causes someone's lips to turn blue?” Tim asked, glancing back to give Damian a concerned look.

“Low blood oxygen levels or poor circulation.” Father answers immediately, eyes not leaving the leading screen.

“It could also be due to the cold.” Dick offered.

“Dick, It's a hundred degrees outside. There's a heat wave. Why would he be cold?” Jason asked.

Dick pressed the back of his hand to Damian’s cheek, and grimaced. “That's what I'm wondering. He’s freezing.”

Tim got up and walked to the front of the bed. He placed a hand on Damian’s forehead, and Damian resisted the urge to bite his hand. Tim’s eyebrows scrunched further in concern.

“Dick’s right. You are really cold. I was wondering how you were wearing long sleeves in this weather.”

“How long have you been feeling like this, Damian?” His father asked.

Damian thought about that for a second. He had been feeling pretty bad for a while, but then again it had started when he had begun coughing up flowers. That had started a while ago, but the constant cold and fatigue had only started recently.

“I’m not sure.” He answered truthfully. “Two days, perhaps?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Tim asked.

“Is it not normal to feel cold?”

“Not when it’s a hundred degrees outside, and especially not when it’s making you go into shock.”

“We don’t know what made him go into shock.” Dick pointed out, his voice wavering.

“Are you injured anywhere? Blood loss can cause shock.” Jason stated, walking over to join his brothers at the medical cot.

Dicks eyes widened. “Oh my God, we didn’t check. Why didn’t we check? Damian where are you hurt-”

“I assure you, I’m not injured.”

Dick didn’t look convinced. His eyebrows were pinched together and his lips were pressed in a thin line. He looked seconds away from probing Damian for the slightest of injuries when a noise interrupted them.

There was a ding, and all attention was drawn to the computer. Damian couldn’t see what the screen showed, but whatever it was must not have been what his father wanted. Bruce immediately stood up, and walked over to his son’s.

“Are the rest of you feeling sick? Weak, or dizzy?” Bruce asked Damian’s brothers.

Jason, Tim and Dick shared a look, and simultaneously shook their heads. “No, we're all fine. Why?”

His fathers face was stony. “The tests say the shock was caused by contact with a poisonous plant called an Azalea. I need to know if anyone else touched it.”

“What's it look like? It's not like I know which flower is which.” Jason said.

“It's pink.” Damian said before he could stop himself. When four pairs of eyes turned to him, Damian shrugged. “I had to learn how to identify plants in the league.”

It wasn’t a lie. He truly had been taught how to identify plants, but that wasn’t why he knew exactly what the flower looked like. It had been seared into his mind the day he coughed up his first flower.

He knew for a fact that they had an Azalea plant outside, as he had seen it when he and Dick were looking for a place to hide. He felt a rush of relief as he realized he could just blame the poison on coming into contact with the bush, rather than explaining that he had coughed up his own bush.

“If you knew it was poisonous why did you touch it?” Tim asked.

Damian couldn't help but roll his eyes. “It’s not like I did it on purpose. I don’t recall coming into contact with the plant, but I must have at some point.”

Bruce turned to the computer, and began typing something. After a second, a large image of an Azalea showed up on the screen.

“This. Did anyone else touch this?”

Dick finally released Damians hand, and walked towards the computer to get a close look. However, he kept his eyes mostly on Damian. Jason joined his father and Dick at the computer.

Tim remained sitting on Damian’s bed, and after making sure they were out of ear shot he turned to Damian. “That's the flower you drew, isn't it?”

Damian’s heart picked up in a nervous beat. “Yeah.”

“You drew the flower with blood on it. Why?”

Damian shrugged. “I already told you. I don’t know. I just felt like it.”

“You're telling me you got the random urge to draw a poisonous flower with blood on it, and then get poisoned by it a few days later?”

“You're acting like I chose to get poisoned. I must have unknowingly touched it earlier.”

Tim narrowed his eyes. “I’m sure.”

He didn’t sound convinced.

Damian would have to make sure to keep his flowers extra secret from now on. He had a feeling Drake was onto him.

Chapter Text

Damian had been sentenced to bed rest until his father and Alfred said he was one hundred percent better. 

So basically, never. He didn’t understand why he was forced to lay in bed, after all, he had gone into shock five days ago. He was feeling perfectly fine. But nope, he had to lay down because god forbid he stood up, or even worse. Walked. His family was acting like the second Damian stood up he would drop down dead. Damian got it, he really did. He had scared his family by almost dying, but the whole ‘no standing’ rule was a little much. When his father had first told him about his bed rest he had been mortified. It was humiliating enough that he was to laze around in bed like an incapable idiot, but when Drake spoke his idea Damian wanted to die of embarrassment. 

Tim had said that Damian should moniterd, and guess who had offered to watch him?

Tim himself had. 

That had annoyed Damian the most. At first, he wasn’t even supposed to have someone watching him 24/7, but Tim had insisted. He had argued that Damian needed to be monitored just in case his blood pressure dropped once more, or if any complications were to occur. However, Damian knew why he truly volunteered.

Drake was onto him. Tim didn’t know what had really happened to make Damian enter shock, but he knew it was no accident. He, like the rest of their family, thought that the Azaela plant in the backyard had been where he was poisoned from, but Damian knew that he had been poisoned by his own Azaels flowers. Weather or not he believed it was an assassination attempt by an enemy or a suicide attempt Damian didn’t know, but all he knew was that Tim would be watching him unnecessarily closely and protectively for a while.

That was not good news for Damian with his flowers. With Tim’s watchful eye he would not be able to spit out the plant, and his only option would be to swallow it. Then, they would be right back to where they started.

Damian was trapped.

Thankfully, he had yet to cough up a bouquet of flowers, but he knew he didn’t have long until one came creeping up on him.


“Your turn.” Damian said after moving his red checkers piece.

Tim made a sound of thought, and stroked his chin. Damian was sitting cross legged on his bed, his blanket shoved on the other side of the mattress. Damian would much rather be on patrol with his father and brothers right now, but he had to admit that the gray sweatpants and fluffy socks he was in were much more comfortable then his Robin outfit.

(And if he was wearing a Nightwing hoodie, Grayson never needed to know.)

Damian attempted to think of some excuse to get some alone time, if only a couple minutes, so he could empty his throat. Maybe he could convince Tim to leave his room for one thing or another, or worst case scenario he could start to think of an escape plan.

He knew that he should have made an entire plan by now, that he could have made an entire plan by now, but something was stopping him. He knew that convincing Tim to give him some space would mean that Tim would leave.

Some part of Damian, some incredibly childish part of him wanted Tim to stay. Because maybe, just maybe, if they spent enough time together then Tim might come to enjoy his company.

‘He already does.’ a small voice in the back of his mind whispered.

Damian pushed the voice away.

That was absurd. Of course Tim didn’t enjoy his company. Why would he? Damian was a burden, and Tim was only pretending to tolerate him.

Tim wasn’t truly fond of him.

…Right?

Tim finally made up his mind, and moved one of his black pieces. He leaned back in his chair that sat next to Damian’s bed. “So you said you don’t remember touching the plant?”

Damian sighed, already having answered this question numerous times.

“I don’t.” He confirmed.

“And you said that it was the bush in the backyard?”

“I’m assuming so. We don’t have another Azalea bush on the property, so it would be the only logical answer. But as I said, I don’t remember toughing it, so I can’t say for certain.” Damian finished his sentence by moving one of his pieces, and crossing over one of Tim’s. He smiled as he collected one of Tim’s pieces.

It was best not to lie, as Tim knew his signs. So instead, Damian decided to tell a half truth. Damian truly didn’t remember if he had touched the plant, but even if he had it wouldn't have mattered. Damian knew he had been poisoned by swallowing his flowers, but Tim didn’t need to know that.

Damian’s best option was telling all of the truth he could without revealing his flower dilemma.


Tim frowned. “I reviewed the security camera footage, and nobody close enough to the bush to have any contact.” Tim moved one of his pieces, effectively killing off one of Damians. “Plus, I did some research. Turns out, unlike what we originally thought, Azaleas have to be consumed to do any damage. Simply touching them would not have any negative effect outside of a small skin rash.”

Damian froze.

“And by ingesting the plant in small amounts, it can cause burning to the throat and mouth, and at most an upset stomach. Only very large amounts can cause shock.”

Tim looked at Damian with raw concern. “Did anybody besides Alfred give you some kind of food? Maybe a drink, anything that could have contained some part of the plant?”

“Not that I would know of.”

“Nothing tasted spicy or gave you a stomach ache?”

“No.”

“But you’ve been sick for a while now, right? You had that cough, and you’ve been pretty tired lately.”

Damian mentally paused. Tim had noticed that? He had just assumed that his brothers didn’t care enough to notice. After all, they had just been pretending to enjoy his presence. It was all fake…wasn’t it? But now that Damian thought about it, why would his brothers go out of their way to show him affection when they didn’t have to? Was it really fake?

What was he thinking? Of course it was.

“Yes, I have.” He confirmed, moving one of his red pieces. “But I just assumed it was a cold.”

Tim nodded, and made his own move. “If someone had been slipping the Azalea into your food then they must have been doing it over the span of multiple days, maybe even weeks.”

Tim hesitated. “But I would have seen somebody on the cameras, and the alarms would have gone off if someone had broken in.”

Damian moved his piece,  effectively winning the game. Drake, however, didn’t seem to notice. He looked deep in thought, a crease in between his eyebrows. He was studying Damian’s face as if it held the answers to his every problem.

“You didn’t…eat flowers…did you?”

Damian recoiled, for some reason feeling offended even though he had done just that. “I’m not a child, Drake, I don’t go around eating flowers.”

Tim sighed, and massaged his temples. “I know Damian, I just wanted to make sure. This doesn't make much sense to me.”

Damian shrugged, hoping his brother would just drop it. “I don’t know either.”

Tim reached to the checkers board, only to pause and realize he had been beaten.

“Seriously?”

Damian gave a triumphant laugh, and crossed his arms. “Face it, Drake. You can't beat me.”

“Shut up, brat.” Tim teased, but there was a smile on his face. “I’ll beat you next time.”

“You wish you could.”

“No, I wish that I could drink four cups of coffee without Alfred berating me. I know that I can beat you.”

“Tt.” Damian scoffed.

Tim began collecting the game pieces, and placed them on Damian’s nightstand. Something about this felt different. Damian couldn’t place his finger on it, but he knew that something was odd. Drake turned back to him and pushed Damian onto his back, ignoring when Damian slapped his hand away.

“Lay down.”

“Why?” Damian whined. Today was the first day he had been allowed to sit up, so he had been enjoying it. He didn’t want to go back to lying.

Tim reached over  “It's ten thirty. You need sleep.”

“Says the man who is up drinking coffee at three in the morning.”

Tim draped the blanket over Damian, and much to Damian’s embarrassment, Drake started tucking him in. 

“Yeah, well this is different . You need all the rest you can get to recover.”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

Tim gave him a pointed look, and raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

“I am! I am fine, you guys are just making a big deal out of nothing.”

Tim paused from tucking the blanket under his chin. For some reason, he looked mad.

“Nothing? Damian, you almost died. We almost lost you, and you think that’s nothing? Do you think it was nothing to find my baby brother lying half dead in the hallway not knowing what was wrong? Having no idea if you’d even be okay? That’s nothing? Because it wasn’t nothing to me, Damian. It was terrifying. Terrifying to think that I might not get to be a big brother anymore, because my little brother could die. You almost died, Damian, that was not nothing.”

Damian didn’t know what to say. What could he possibly say to that? 

“Sorry.” He managed. He didn’t know exactly what he was apologizing for. Whether it was for upsetting Tim, or almost dying, he was unsure. 

Tim sighed, and plopped back down on the chair beside his bed. “Don’t apologize, Damian. It’s not your fault.”

But it was. It was entirely his fault. Damian had made Tim worry, and it was completely his fault. Tim sounded incredibly distraught over what had happened, and Damian felt horrible. 

“I’m the one who should be apologizing.” Tim continued. “I shouldn’t have blown up like that. I'm sorry.”

Damian fiddled with his hands under the blanket. “I scared you.” He pointed out. 

“You did.” Tim confirmed. “I…I just,” Tim have a frustrated sigh, and combed his hand through his hair. He couldn’t seem to find the right words. 

Damian decided to spare him the trouble, and instead he asked the question on his mind. “Are you going to sleep in the chair?”

Tim blinked, not expecting the question. “Uh, yeah. I mean, it’s really comfortable and I need to watch over you.”

Damian frowned. It didn’t seem right that he would get the bed while Tim was sleeping in a chair. This was Tim’s home far more than it was Damian’s. Tim should be the one in a comfortable bed. 

“No.” Damian said, and freed his hand from under the blanket to grab Tim’s arm, pulling him towards the bed. 

“No? No, what?” Tim asked, resisting his tugging. 

Damian managed one more pull that caused Tim to scoot forwards. “I mean , you're not sleeping on a chair.” 

Damian pulled Tim onto the bed, and he felt the bed creak under the added weight. Tim gave a long sigh, but he still crawled under the covers. 

“Damian, you're still recovering.”

“And you sleeping on a chair won’t help me ‘recover’. Now shut up and let me sleep.”

Tim chuckled, and pulled Damian into his arms. “Come here, gremlin.” 

Damian’s brother arranged the blanket around them, and tucked Damian’s head under his chin. “Comfortable?”

Damian tried to ignore the heat in his cheeks at the fact that his older brother was cuddling him, and he knew that it was too dark to see, but he still hid his face in Tim’s chest. 

Damian nodded, and mumbled a quiet yes. 

Tim squeezed him a little closer, and then settled himself down. 

Damian didn’t find it very hard to go to sleep. Tim’s hand was carding gently through his hair, and the other was rubbing up and down his back. He vaguely knew that his brother was purposely trying to get him to sleep, but he didn’t mind much. 

He listened to Drake's quiet breathing, and the steady beat of his heart. It was nice. It was the first time in a while Damian felt truly safe.

The first time he truly felt…cared for?

Was that so crazy?

Tim tightened his grip on Damian, and pressed a small kiss to Damian’s head.

His chest warmed.

Maybe it wasn’t so crazy for him to be cared for?

—---------------------------------

Damian was woken up with an itch in his throat.

Damian was annoyed, to say the least. After everything that had happened with the ‘shock’, and almost dying, Damian had hoped to catch a break, at least for a while.

Damian unwrapped himself from his sleeping brother's arms, grabbed a tissue from the box on his nightstand.

Damian coughed into the tissue, and felt when a singular flower came out.

Damian heard Tim shift next to him, and prop himself onto his elbows. Damian must have woken him up with his coughing. Tim placed a hand on Damian’s back.

“You okay, bud?”

Damian nodded, and crushed the flower within the tissue. He threw it away.

“Yeah. Fine.”

Damian wouldn’t notice that the next day, the tissue was open, the flower having been examined by his brother.

—----------------------

Damian was awoken when he heard the soft pitter patter of footsteps approaching. Damian kept his eyes closed, half because he knew those familiar footsteps, and half because he was incredibly comfortable right where he was. He felt every rise and fall of Tim’s chest underneath him. 

The footsteps- Richards footsteps- stopped right beside the bed. Damian felt Dick gently touch his back. It was only the slightest touch, but Tim’s hand flew out and caught Dick’s wrist.

“Sorry Tim, didn’t try to wake you.” Dick whispered. “Just grabbing Damian.”

Tim pushed his hand away, and turned onto his side so Damian was further away from Dick. “No.”

“No? I’m just going to bring him into my room. He’s not going to walk or anything like that. He’s going to be perfectly safe.”

“No.” Tim repeated. “He’s staying here.”

“What? Tim,” Dick whined. “I want to hold him.”

“You always hold him. I want to hold him.”

“You have been holding him, all night. Tim please, he’s my baby brother.”

“Yeah, well he’s my baby brother too, and I want to hold him.”

Damian listened as his big brothers continued to argue over him. They must have thought he was still asleep, or at least much too out of it to properly understand the conversation. Damian was still half asleep, but conscious enough to understand what was being said. If he had been a little more conscious, then he might have been embarrassed. After all, his older brothers were arguing over who got to hold him. He was not a child that needed to be held. No. He was Damian Wayne al Ghoul, and he was perfectly fine on his own thank you very much. 

But, in some strange way his chest felt a lot lighter. His brothers were arguing so he shouldn’t be happy, but they were arguing about holding him. That meant they wanted to have him close, right? Damian didn’t think they were just pretending this time.  What would be the point of pretending for someone who they thought was asleep? 

Did that mean they…really wanted to be around him? Not just out of pity? Maybe they really did mean it when they told him they cared. Was that really so insane?

Maybe it wasn’t?

Damian began listening once more when he heard Grayson give a defeated sigh. “Can I at least hold him later?” 

“I don’t know.” Tim dismissed, which Damian knew meant ‘no’. 

Damian still had his eyes closed, but Dick must have given Tim the puppy dog eyes because Drake sighed. “Go cuddle Jason or something.”

“He won’t let me! You know how much he hates stuff like that. Last time I tried he kicked me out of his room. Physically.”

“Dick we’re trying to sleep. If you would be so kind, the door is over there.”

Damian heard his eldest brother sigh and drag his feet towards the door. 

“And close it on your way out.” Tim called. When Damian heard the door close, he felt Tim pull him tighter to his chest. Damian didn’t protest, too tired to do so. 

Damian must have fallen back to sleep, because he was awoken when he felt someone gently tapping his cheek. Damian felt warm and cozy under the thick blanket, and the chest he was laying against was even more warm. Damian was content to just lie there, but once again he felt something gently tap his cheek.

“Damian? You awake?”

Damian groaned, making known his annoyance. 

Tim pressed an apologetic kiss to his forehead. “Sorry. Just making sure you were okay. You slept in pretty late today. I just had to make sure you were sleeping, you know?”

Damian rubbed his eyes, and let out a yawn. He buried his face into the crook of his brother's neck, not wanting to get up.  “What time is it?”

“It’s eleven thirty.”

Damian’s eyes snapped open. “Eleven?”

Damian rarely slept past eight, so he understood his brother's concern. Damian himself could hardly believe he had slept in so late. In the league he would have been severely punished, maybe even whipped. He had been trained to wake up at sunrise, meditate for a while and then start his day at exactly eight o'clock. The habit had never truly left him.

A lot of things from the league had stayed with him, despite how much he longed to forget.

Sometimes, the fear he had tried so desperately to stiff down in his time with the league would resurface. Maybe it was because he didn’t have to act emotionless and stony around his family here. Maybe it was because he wasn’t expected to be the stoic heir to the Demon at Wayne manor like he was at the league. Here he was only expected to be…Damian. He was only expected to be himself, and happy. It was…a nice change of pace. 

Tim unwrapped his arms from Damian, and started to get up. Damian frowned. “Where are you going?” 

“I’m going to get you breakfast. I ate earlier when Alfred dropped some food off, but you were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you. What do you want, pancakes, eggs or both?” Tim stood and began stretching his sore arms. 

Damian wasn’t exactly hungry, but he decided to attempt to use this as an excuse to get out of bed. He knew it was most likely not going to work, but he had to try. Damian swung his legs off the bed, only to be stopped when Tim grabbed his shoulder. 

“What do you think you're doing?”

Damian inclined his chin. “I’m coming with you.”

Tim scoffed. “As if. You're staying here and you're going to focus on getting better.”

Damian wanted to argue that bed rest would do him no good, but he didn’t want to make the same mistake as last night. He knew that he had scared his family, but he was frustrated. Damian did NOT like lying around. In the league, he would have been whipped for his laziness. 

Tim frowned, and pulled out his phone. He shot a quick text, and shoved the device back into his pocket. Damian knew exactly who he had texted as soon as he heard excited footsteps running in their direction. “Dick’s going to watch you while I grab some food. He’s going to make sure you stay put and don’t do anything stupid. I’ll be back soon.”

“Tt. I’m not going to do anything stupid, Drake.”

Dick barged in. He had the largest and goofiest smile Damian had ever seen plastered on his face. Damian could almost see the excitement vibrating off of him.

 “I’m here.” He panted. 

“Great. Make sure Damian is still alive when I come back. It shouldn’t take too long, I’ll just whip something up real quick.”

Dick nodded, already climbing next to Damian. “Yeah, okay.”

“Damian,” Tim called. “Pancakes, eggs, or both?”

Damian thought about that. Normally he would choose pancakes, as blueberry pancakes were his favorite, but since he was cursed to laze around all day he decided he didn’t need the extra sugar.

But then again, Damian was really in the mood for a nice blueberry pancake.

 “Both.” He decided.

“Got it. I’ll be right back, I promise.” Damian thought it sounded more like he was attempting to comfort himself rather than Damian. 

Damian watched as Tim left the room, closing the door behind him. Damian was left to Dicks mercy. If Damian knew anything about Dick, it was that he would absolutely smother Damian in attention every second he got, and that was in public. Now that they were alone, Damian was concerned he might just be suffocated to death by Graysons hugs.

When he turned to look at his oldest brother, Dick gave him the largest and happiest smile he had ever seen, and Damian could practically see the imaginary tail wagging. 

Yup, that was it. This was how Damian was going to die. 

————————————

Damian was right. Dick nearly suffocated him with affection, and when Tim came in with breakfast, he was not pleased to see the scene.

“Dick, he’s recovering. You're squeezing him too hard.”  Tim had complained.

Really, Damian could tell that Tim was annoyed that Dick was hogging Damian. Damian could have sworn he even saw Tim pout.

It was oddly endearing. Damian didn’t feel like the odd one out right then. He simply existed with his family. It was nice.

Damian happily ate his breakfast as Dick and Tim bickered. Damian didn’t particularly care for what they were arguing about. All he knew was that he felt warm, and that his pancakes were really good.

Dick rubbed a comforting hand up and down Damian’s arm as he sat in his big brother's lap.

(Dick had insisted on it. Damian absolutely did not want to. Definitely not…not at all. It was all Dicks idea. Yup, all Dicks. Damian definitely didn’t enjoy it.)

Damian’s chest didn’t hurt right now. He hadn’t particularly noticed it had been hurting before, but now that the pain was gone he realized just how much discomfort he had been in. Damian didn’t know what that meant, or if that had anything to do with his flowers, but he did know that he was comfortable, and so was his family.

Even if two of them were currently arguing over him.

“You’ve had him all night Tim. You get to watch him for the whole time he’s on bed rest. And, you live at the manor with him, I only see him when I visit. I should at least get a couple hours of cuddling. At least.” Dick stressed.

“It’s not my fault you visit once in a blue moon. That's your fault, not mine. Just like you said, it's my job to watch him, therefore I should be the one hugging him.” Tim crossed his arms.

“Have you asked him? I’m sure he would say he would much rather cuddle with me. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” Dick asked, looking down at a very distracted Damian.

Damian nodded absentmindedly, not really sure what he was agreeing to, much too distracted with digging into his warm blueberry pancakes. Tim should cook more often.

“That doesn't count, he’s not even paying attention.” Tim argued. “If he were, he would say he would rather me than you.”

“That’s completely untrue.”

Damian ate the last bite of his amazing pancake, making a mental note to thank Tim again for the food. Seriously, his brother was great at making pancakes. Damian took a sip of water, and placed the glass down as his brother pulled him closer to his chest. Damian leaned back into Dicks chest, and decided that he wanted to draw.

Damian hadn’t drawn since he finished his flower drawing. That had been at least a week or so ago. Damian decided he wanted to start a new sketch.

Damian placed his empty plate on his nightstand. Damian started to slide his way off his brother's lap, and hoped that his brother's argument would be enough to distract them from realizing that Damian wasn’t supposed to be standing.

The arm that tightened around him told him otherwise.

Damian felt a flair of annoyance flow through him. “Where do you think you're going?” Dick asked.

To Damian’s annoyance, Tim raised an eyebrow at him as if to ask him the same question. Damian sighed. “I'm going to get my sketchbook.”

“Not in your condition, you're not.” Dick stated firmly.

Damian groaned, because he didn’t have a condition. He was perfectly fine. In fact, he felt great. Damian’s chest didn’t hurt, and his throat wasn’t itchy. Rather, Damian’s chest felt warm and his throat was all back to normal.

“Where is it? I’ll get it for you.” Tim offered.

Damian pointed to the desk across his room, where his sketch pad lay.

Damian watched as his big brother got up, and retrieved his sketchbook and his colored pencils for him.

Damian thanked him when Tim gave him his stuff, but he didn’t whip the pout off his face. He could have gotten his art supplies all by himself, thank you very much.

But no. Not in his overprotective family.

“Damian, remember, you have to stay in bed.” Richard scolded.

“But I'm not in bed right now.” Damian pointed out. It was true. His brother had insisted Damian sit on his lap. Dick’s lap was not Damian’s bed.

Dick gave Damian a pointed look.

“It’s true.” Damian grumbled as he opened his sketchbook.

Damian intended on opening up to a new page and starting drawing till his heart was content, but instead he opened up to the drawing he had made of his flower. It sat on his page just as it had before, pink petals and blood.

Richard happily chatted away, talking about unimportant stuff, and cracking jokes.

Damian felt the sense of eyes watching him, and looked up to find Tim eyeing him and his drawing. Tim kept his face blank, but Damian could have sworn he saw the gears shifting in Drake's brain.

Damian closed his sketchbook.

—------

Alfred graciously brought dinner upstairs for Damian, and Tim even decided to eat with him. Damian pretended like he didn’t care that his brother had decided to stay, but it really meant a lot to him. It was almost like a show of endearment.

And maybe it was?

No, not maybe.

It was.

And that meant more to Damian than anything. 

“Greek Salad with extra bell pepper, just the way you like it.” Alfred handed Damian his dinner.

“Thank you, Pennyworth.” Damian accepted the plate with waiting hands. Damian has tried the cooking of hundreds of professional chef’s, and Damian had to admit that Pennyworth’s cooking beat them all by a landslide.

Alfred handed Tim his own food, “Pepperoni pizza, and a large cut of coffee for you, Master Timothy.”

Damian snorted at his brother's simple taste.

Even as Damian mixed his salad, he focused on keeping away the foolish smile that had been attempting to sneak up on his face since Tim offered to eat with him.

Damian knew it was stupid. His big brother offering to eat his food in Damian’s room should not make him as happy - as giddy as it did- but it had. It shouldn’t, as Tim had already offered to watch Damian for however long it took him to recover, and he had fought Dick to hug him, and to be on his team on game nights, but for some reason this was the thing that made Damian the most giddy. 

Or maybe it was because this time he really understood that Tim was doing it because…because he cared?

“That should be it. If you two need anything just call.” Alfred finished, picking up the empty tray he had used to carry the plates up. 

“Thank you, Alfred. I mean it.” Tim smiled. 

“Of course, my boy.” Alfred gave a kind smile right back to Tim. 

Damian dug into his food as Alfred exited.

“Pizza, really?” Damian asked.

“Salad, really?” Tim returned.

“Greek Salad, Drake. At least I am eating real food. Not something as greasy and full of empty calories as Pepperoni pizza.”

Tim snorted. “You could use the calories, Brat. I could pick you up with one arm, and the fact that it's me we're talking about really says something.”

“Tt. Whatever.”

Tim paused to take a long sip of his coffee. “What did you draw earlier?”

Damian finished the bite of salad in his mouth, and shrugged. “Nothing. I couldn't think of anything.”

“Can I see your sketchbook?”

Damian frowned. “You’ve already looked through it.”

“I know,” Tim admitted. “ I want to look again.”

Damian raised an eyebrow, but supposed it wouldn’t hurt. Damian grabbed his sketchbook from his side table, and tossed it to his brother. Tim caught it easily.

“Don’t you dare get any grease on my drawings.” Damian warned.

Tim held his hands up in surrender. “I won’t.” He promised.

Damian ate peacefully as he watched his brother flip through all his drawings. Tim would make the occasional comment about liking something, or that a certain drawing was cool. Damian finished his salad, and turned to place his now empty bowl on his night stand. He took another sip of his water, and turned back to find Tim scanning the drawing of Damian’s bloody flower. Tim’s face revealed nothing as he searched every inch of the paper.

Of course. Tim had wanted to look through his sketchbook so he could attempt to gather some information from Damian’s drawing, not because he wanted to just skim through.

Damian cursed himself for not seeing it.

He shifted uncomfortably, and judging by the way Tim’s eyes flickered upwards, he had noticed the movement.

“Um, can I have my sketchbook?” Damian asked.

“I haven't finished looking through it yet.” He pointed out, only to narrow his eyes. “Is there something about this drawing you don't want me to see? You always close the book before I can get a good look. Nothing seems to be wrong with it. Is there?”

Damian blinked. Sometimes, he hated living in a family of detectives. It meant keeping secrets was virtually impossible.  “No,”

Tim looked back down to the drawing. “Why did you say you added the blood again?”

Damian squirmed. “I don’t know. It was in the reference.”

“Last time you said it was because you wanted to add some color.”

Damian mentally panicked, “The reference was a sketch, and didn’t have color. I think it was originally water, but I made it blood to add some more color.” Damian lied..

“What about this?” Tim asked

Damian was horrified when Tim pulled out a tissue from his pocket, and on it sat his crushed up pink flower. 

Damian should have known Tim would have searched his room for clues. Grandfather would be disappointed. 

Damian stared at the flower for a second, attempting to think of a good enough lie. 

When he couldn’t think of anything, Damian just shrugged. 

“I don’t know.” He lied. 

Tim raised an eyebrow. 

Damian held his gaze. 

“Damian, I know you're lying. Whatever’s going on, you can tell me. please tell me.  I want to help you, Damian. Something is obviously going on, and it’s hurting you. Damian, you almost died. I’m not going to let that happen again."

Damian was at a loss for words. What did he say? What did he do? Even if he really did decide to tell his brother, how would he explain it? Tim probably thought he was joking, or maybe even delusional. It was a lose-lose situation.

Damian just shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

Tim abandoned the flower and tissue, choosing instead to “Tell me what's going on. Help me understand. please, Damian. Let me help you.”

“I don’t know.” Damian repeated. His answer didn’t make the most sense, but it was all he could say.

Tim studied Damian’s face, searching for something, anything that would give him some kind of clue as to what was going on.

Damian didn’t let anything show on his face but his confusion, which wasn’t hard to do.

Eventually, Tim took a sip of coffee, breaking the tension in the air.

—-------------------------------------------

Tim didn’t question Damian any further that night, which he appreciated, but he knew that Tim would not be letting it go any time soon.

Damian had to admit, his brother was an amazing detective, but Damian was amazing at keeping secrets. It was only basic league training.

Damian wondered who would beat the other. Damian could only hope it would be him, He wished his brother would let it go,

After all, what was so wrong with a couple flowers?

Sure, they were coming out of him, but they didn’t change the fact that they were just flowers.

Poisonous flowers, but still just flowers.

Okay, maybe there was something wrong with him, but Damian could figure it out by himself. He didn’t need the chaos that would come with his family finding out. They would have lots of questions that Damian himself didn’t even know.

Just like Damian was sure Tim would question him further tomorrow, which annoyed him to no end.

But no matter how annoyed, nervous or angry Damian tried to be, he just couldn’t. All other emotions were overshadowed by the happiness from earlier. From realizing that his brother had stayed with him because he cared.

Someone cared.

How could he be anything but happy?

He didn’t quite understand it. He didn’t understand why Tim had suddenly decided that he was fond of Damian, or why he even tolerated Damian in the first place, but all that Damian knew was that his brother might actually care. 

Damian couldn’t help but smile as he lay in his bed.

Damian’s chest felt warm, almost uncomfortably warm, but he didn’t mind. Not when Tim was rubbing soothing circles on his back as they tried to sleep, and not when Damian knew Tim was doing it because he cared.

Damian was half asleep when Tim moved. 

His brother shifted just the tiniest bit, raising his head off the pillow. 

Tim placed a kiss on the crown of his head. “Love you, baby bat.”

And Damian believed it. 

———————-

Damian woke with a start, and he couldn't breath. His throat was burning, and his eyes were watering. Damian knew what was coming when he felt an all too familiar itching in his throat.

Damian pushed himself off of his brother's chest, and stumbled blindly to his bathroom. It must have been about three in the morning- meaning his father, Grayson and Todd were out patrolling, and Alfred was in the Batcave
.
Damian collapsed in front of the toilet, barely making it in time before he began gagging and coughing. Just like before, a large pink flower came up and dropped into the toilet, but it didn’t stop there. Damian continued to hack and cough up flowers non stop.

His throat burned painfully, and he felt wet salty tears on his cheeks. Damian could hardly get enough air into his lungs.

Damian was dimly aware that he was no longer alone in the bathroom. He thought that maybe someone was holding him, and patting his back in attempts to help him, but he was too distracted to really notice.

Damian didn’t know how long he stayed like that, coughing up flowers and gasping for breath. 

Eventually, Damian settled down until he was slumped against the toilet, breathing heavily. He didn’t have the strength to open his eyes. 

Damian felt Tim pull him into his chest, and say something. Damian didn’t quite catch what had been spoken. 

They stayed like that for a while, Tim holding him as if he were as fragile as fine china. Something in him told him he should make some sort of excuse as to why he was hacking up flowers at three am, but he was much too tired. 

Tim didn’t say anything about the flowers. He just carefully picked Damian up, and carried him back into the room. 

Tim placed Damian back in bed, and started tucking the blankets around him. 

Even though he had just coughed up more flowers than he ever had before, he felt MUCH better. His chest felt significantly lighter, and his throat felt a little less blocked. 

Damian felt much better as he faded into sleep. 

——————————————-

When Damian woke up wrapped in protective arms. What he was not expecting to find was that the arms belonged to Dick. 

“Morning, Little D!” Dick greeted, as cheerful and happy as ever. 

Damian remembered very well what had happened last night, and he was painfully aware that Tim had seen it. Tim had SEEN HIM coughing up flowers. 

But he wasn’t in the room. 

Had he told everyone? Was he off telling father at that very moment? 

Did Dick know?

Damian doubted it, judging by the pure contentment on his face. Damian knew that if his older brother knew, he would not be as calm as he currently was. Things would be much different. 

Damian didn’t know whether to be relieved or suspicious. 

“Morning.” Damian returned, making a face when his brother planted a big kiss to his forehead. 

Damian was about to ask where Tim was, but Dick beat him to it. 

“Tim went out to do something, meaning I get to hold you for the whole day.” Dick squeezed him. 

“Doing what?” Damian asked. 

Dick shrugged. “I didn’t hear all the details. All I know is that he’s out talking to someone.”

Damian nodded, thinking through this new information. Drake was talking to another human being? Willingly? That in itself was strange, but especially after what had occurred last night. 

Damian hoped Tim wasn’t talking about his flowers. 

Even if he was, who could he possibly be talking to? It would be pointless to tell anyone outside the family. It didn’t make much sense to Damian. 

Dick kissed him once again, this time in his cheek. “You hungry, sweetheart?”

Damian wasn’t really hungry. His chest felt comfortable, and his throat had settled.

Most of all, the lingering pain and emptiness that had showed up once he convinced himself he didn’t belong here- it was…dull. It wasn’t as strong as it used to be.

After coughing up all those flowers, it almost as if Damian had coughed up some of his emotional pain as well. 

This last flower cough incident had seemed different than the others. Before, they would happen when Damian was in emotional pain, and would cause his chest to feel heavy and painful afterwards. 

This time, it had occurred when Damian was finally happy, and his chest felt much lighter this time. 

Why was that?

Damian ponders this as he shakes his head. “No, I’m not hungry.”

Dick patted his back as if he were a babe. “You gotta at least have a piece of toast. You need food, we can’t have you get any lighter than you already are.”

Damian scoffed. “One meal won’t do anything, Grayson.”

Dick smiled as he sat up, placing Damian on the bed next to him. “I know, but I still think you should eat something. Fill that little stomach of yours.”

Damian scowled. His stomach was not little. Nothing about him was little, everyone else was just big. That was it. 

“I’m not hungry.” He protested. Dick ignored him, and swept him off the bed into a carry. 

Damian protested all the way to the kitchen, although he was glad to be out of his room. 

——————————————-

“And Rapunzel finally leaves her tower.” Jason had amusement laced in his voice as he watched Dick carry Damian into the kitchen. He had his booted feet propped up on the table, mirth clear on his face.

Even though he would never admit it out loud, Damian had missed Jason. Damian’s big brother had been busy with taking down a big group of drug dealers, so he didn’t have much time to visit the manor. Jason wasn’t exactly happy to leave right after what happened with Damian, but he had to. Jason still stopped by as frequently as he could, but Damian secretly wished he didn’t have to leave.


Damian glared at Jason. “I would have left a lot sooner if I had the choice. And Mulan is a much better movie than Rapunzel.”

“Now there's something we can agree on.”

“I personally disagree.” Dick chimed.

“You can’t say anything, Grayson. Your movie taste is equivalent to a bag of wet rice. Me and Todd both have immaculate movie taste.” Damian argued.

“Whatever you say, Little D.” Dick opened the fridge with one hand, still supporting Damian with the other, and pulled out the milk. He then searched the cupboards for two bowls, and grabbed a box of cereal. “My taste in movies isn’t that bad.” He mumbled.

Jason barked out a laugh. “Keep telling yourself that, Dickieboy. If you believe hard enough it might just come true.”

Dick poured generous servings into each of the bowls. “It is true.”

“Oh yeah? Dick, you watch American girl movies on repeat, and you think that's good movie taste?” Jason raised an eyebrow.

“They have great story lines, and all have happy endings. Of course I like them.” Dick dropped a spoon in each bowl, and then scooped some cereal into one. To Damian’s embarrassment, he raised it up and stuck it in Damian’s mouth.

Not only was Dick holding him, but he was feeding him.

It was humiliating. Damian felt his cheeks heat up.

“They’re movies for little girls, Dick.”

“Yeah? And so are Disney princess movies, yet you watch Mulan all the time. And I seem to recall watching Princess and the Frog not too long ago.”

Jason stuttered. “Yeah, well I watch the interesting little girl movies. You watch the boring ones.”

Dick raised another spoonful of cereal to Damian’s mouth, and Damian felt utterly humiliated as he took a bite. His embarrassment was furthered when Dick started cooing at him as if he were some sort of baby.

 
“Aww, you're so adorable.” Dick gushed as he planted kisses to Damian’s face.

Jason snorted.

—---------------------------------------

Dick had left to use the bathroom, leaving Damian to finally be alone.

Damian sat in his bed, peacefully sketching when none other than Timothy Drake decided to barge into his room. 

Tim flung the door open so violently it slammed into the wall, and bounced back till it was shut. 

Damian jumped in surprise. 

Tim practically stomped over to Damian, and stopped right beside him. Tim looked ANGRY. More angry than Damian had even seen him look. 

Tim studied his face, seemingly attempting  to find something that wasn’t there. There was some unreadable emotion clear on his brother's face. 

Tim was panting as if he had run a whole marathon just to get to Damian’s room. 

It was unnerving, to say the least. 

Damian blinked. “Can I help you?” 

“So, I talked to Ivy.” Tim started. 

“Poison Ivy?” Damian asked.

“Yes. I figured that if anyone would know anything about flowers it would be her. I described what was going on, the coughing up flowers, and do you want to know what she told me?”

Damian felt a rush of nervousness flood through him, because in truth, Damian himself didn’t know what it meant. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. 

“What?” Damian tried to ask it in a confident voice, but he failed when his voice came out small and nervous. 

Tim took a deep breath, as if calming himself. “It’s something called Hanahaki. Do you know what that is?”

Damian shook his head as a no. 

“I didn’t either, but then she told me. It’s a disease that appears due to unrequited love- or, in your case, the perception of unrequited love.”

Tim lowered himself till he was kneeling in front of Damian. 

“Do you really believe that? Do you really believe that we don’t love you? Do you really believe that you aren’t one of the most important things in the world to us? To me?”

Damian looked away. 

“Damian,” Tim turned Damian’s chin back till he was looking at him. His brother still looked angry, but this time it was along with raw concern, and pain. “Do you really believe that?” 

Why was Tim asking him? He should know that the family didn’t exactly love Damian. He didn’t fit in there. Didn't he only warm up to Damian two days ago? Didn’t Tim only start caring two days ago?

“Damian, answer me. Do you really believe that?”

Damian shrugged. 

Tim seemed to know what Damian knew by that. Tim buried his face in his hands in some sort of invisible pain, and took a long breath. 

Damian didn’t know what to do, or how to feel. He decided to think about his ‘disease’ later, and focus on why his brother was acting so pained. 

“Tim?” Damian asked.

Tim raised his head, and Damian was horrified to see tears in his brother's eyes. Tim took both of Damian’s hands in his. 

“Damian, I am so sorry that you think that, and I’m so sorry that we never noticed. That it got to this point. I'm so sorry. I don’t know how you came to the- the false conclusion that we don’t care, and I don't know what kind of lies you got in that big brain of yours, but all I do know is that we love you, Damian. So so much. Let me prove it to you. Let us prove it to you. Please.”

“Us?” Damian asked warily. “You're going to tell? Tim, please, please don’t tell.”

No, this couldn’t be happening. Father was going to know that Damian was just some child that couldn’t survive without some stupid attention, and he would cast him aside and forget about him. Damian didn’t want that. He couldn’t take that. He didn’t want to lose this family he had gained. He didn’t want to face the fact he truly deserved. 

He didn’t want to be thrown away again. Damian knew he couldn’t take it. 

And what if Grayson and Todd? They would think of him as a child. Some burden, some chore. Something to have to stop what they were doing, and pretend to care for because he was TO WEAK to go without something was stupid and trivial as love. 

“I have to. If I don’t, if I let this go on, then you could die. I’m not going to let that happen. I’m not going to lose you. You're not dying, not on my watch, not ever.”

Damian felt his eyes fill with tears at the realization of what was really happening. His family was going to know. Tim already knew. Damian was going to be cast aside, discarded

“Tim…” Damian pleaded. His voice was weak and pathetic. Grandfather would be so disappointed. Damian understood now why his mother gave him away. 

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” Tim soothed. “It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. I'll make it better, I promise.”

Tim pulled Damian into a fierce hug, and he held him protectively. He allowed Damian to sob into his shoulder as Tim mumbled encouraging words.  He rubbed circles onto Damian’s back. 

Damian didn’t deserve the kindness. 

—————————-

It took Damian an embarrassing amount of time to calm down.

He just couldn’t stop sobbing. His lung problem wasn’t doing anything to help him catch his breath, and he couldn’t stop thinking about how his father would be so disappointed in him. How Damian would lose everything, every relationship, he had formed since coming here. Damian didn’t want to lose this. Damian couldn’t lose this.

Eventually, Damian tired himself out, and he was reduced to a sniffling and teary mess.

Tim held him the whole time.

Damian buried his face in the crook of his big brother's neck. He sniffled pathetically.

“Damian?” Drake asked. He rubbed Damian’s back. “Can you look at me?”

Damian looked up at Tim.

“How long have you been feeling this way?” He asked gently.

Damian sniffled. “The flowers?”

Tim shook his head. “Not just the flowers. I mean how long have you thought that we don’t love you?”

“I guess a little while after I came here.”

When Tim’s shoulders slumped, Damian was quick to reassure him. “But, I guess I realized that you cared…”

Tim met his eyes. “Me?”

“Yes. I don’t know why, but when you chose to stay with me for dinner, it meant a lot. I realized that you weren't just faking it like I originally thought.” Damian stated.

“What made you think we were faking it?”

Damian thought about that for a second. He realized that he may be his fathers only biological child, but his father had hand picked every one of his other children. He had chosen them. 

He hadn’t chosen Damian. Damian had been dumped on him.

“I realized that I didn’t belong here. That I'm a burden.”

“No.” Tim said darkly. “You didn’t realize, Damian, you made it up. That’s just the flowers talking, okay? You're not a burden. You DO belong here, you belong to be here, safe and warm and in my arms. You belong with your family, Damian. Don’t listen to the flowers. They're wrong.”

“How do you know that? How do you know that I belong here? That I'm not a burden?” Damian asked, his eyes feeling hot once more.

“Because you're my baby brother, and you could never be a burden. never. I would do anything for you, and so would Bruce and Dick and Jason. You belong here because you're loved here. We love you, and don’t let anything or anyone tell you otherwise, do you understand?”

Damian thought about that. He thought of all the smiles and laughs he and his brothers have shared. He thought of all the times Dick held him and coddled over him. He thought of all the times Jason would ruffle his hair, and shut down anybody that said anything against Damian. He thought of all the times his Father told him he was proud, and all the pet names he called him.

Had Damian been wrong?

Had he been wrong this whole time?

That definitely hurt his pride.

“Yes.”

“Good.” Tim smiled. “Promise me you won’t think like that anymore. Promise me you will come to me when the lies get too loud.”

“I promise.” Damian responded.

Damian thought it might not be so crazy for him to be loved. And maybe he already was.

Or, rather, he already was.

—------------------------------------------

Tim did end up telling the rest of the family about what was going on with Damian. 

Damian understood that his big brother was just trying to help, but Damian couldn’t stop the shame that burned under his skin at the thought of his family knowing his weakness. 

Damian was a Wayne, and an Al Ghoul. He wasn’t supposed to be a broken and weak child. 

It was disgraceful. (Damian quickly shook that thought out of his head. Tim told him not to think like that before, and he had promised he would try not to.)

Tim told Damian when he was going to tell their father. Damian had only nodded.

Damian’s father walked into his room about half an hour after Tim left. Damian didn’t bother to greet his father, or even stand. He stayed put on the bed. He was so nervous, so shaky,  that standing probably wasn’t even an option.

“Damian,” His father kneeled so he was closer to Damian’s height, he gently held Damian’s chin to keep him looking at his face. “Sweetheart, Tim told me you felt we…didn’t care for you.  That you have been having…”

Bruce placed a large hand above Damian’s chest. “Some problems with your lungs. Is this true?”

This was it. The moment Damian had been dreading since his older brother confronted him. 

Damian was ready for many things. He was ready to grow up, he was ready to inherit his fathers cowl, he was ready to use the adults menu at Olive Garden and he was even ready to die. 

But Damian was NOT ready to explain things to his father. How was he supposed to make his father understand? How was he supposed to explain the built up emotions, or the flowers or the nights spent crying himself to sleep because he felt like he didn’t belong? What if his Father saw him as weak? What if he didn’t want him after this?

No. That was the flowers talking. Tim had told him to throw out any bad thoughts, and Damian had promised him he would. Damian didn’t break promises. 

Damian wanted to look anywhere but his fathers eyes. He didn’t want to see the sadness, concern and love that lie in his fathers warm blue eyes. It was too much. 

Damian had never had a problem with meeting his fathers eyes before, but now that he could finally see the adoration, care and love for him, it was overwhelming. Although it was what he had longed for for his entire life,  Damian wasn’t ready to face that yet. 

Damian swallowed, and hesitantly nodded. 

Bruce’s face fell, and he pulled Damian into his chest, squeezing his son as tight as he would allow himself. 

“Oh, Damian. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

Damian allowed himself to bury his face in his fathers shoulder and take a deep breath. 

It smelled like home. 

When his father pulled back, Damian was surprised to find his fathers eyes were watering. “I love you, baby, so so much.” Bruce tapped a finger against Damian’s temple. “Don’t let that big brain of yours tell you otherwise. You're my son, Damian, and you're my entire world. Don’t forget that. You're not some responsibility, or you're not a burden. You are not a burden. Say it Damian. Say your not a burden.”

Damian shifted uncomfortably. “I..I’m not a burden.”

“That’s right.” His father praised. “You're not a burden. I love you so much. Your brothers love you so much, and Alfred loves you so much and your pets love you so much. Say it, Damian. I am loved. Go on.”


Damian’s face felt hot. Was his Father seriously doing this? Seriously?

“Father,” objected.

“No, I want to hear you say it. I need to hear that you believe me. Say it with me Damian, I am loved .”

Damian couldn't help but laugh (And it was definitely not a giggle.) This was so incredibly absurd, but his Father absolutely insisted he repeat after him, so Damian accepted his fate.

“I am loved.” He mumbled, fighting the smile on his face.

Damian’s father smiled just as wide as Damian himself. “Say it again. Take a deep breath and say it with your whole chest. I am loved . ”

Damian let out a childish laugh. “I am loved.” He begrudgingly repeated.

“There we go.” Bruce pulled Damian into another embrace, and Damian took a second to relish in the warmth of his fathers embrace. This time, the hug didn’t feel cold. It didn't feel fake, and it didn’t feel like Damian didn’t belong. Damian felt..accepted. He felt loved. Just like his father made him say. Damian couldn't help the large grin that spread across his face. He was loved. He had a family. He had a place. He was accepted. Damian had never wanted anything more.

“Now, I know you're going to feel a little sad sometimes. Everyone does, even I’m sad sometimes. That’s normal. But, when you do feel sad, when you start to doubt yourself or us, come talk to me. I'll get those silly thoughts out of your head. I love you so much, Honey.”

“I love you too, Baba.”

—-------------------------------

Dick didn’t question Damian like Tim and Bruce had. He had just picked Damian up, and held him as Dick cried. Dick kept pressing kisses to Damian’s face, and mumbling about how much he loved him. About how much Damian meant to him. He didn’t let Damian down for days, continuously telling Damian that he loved him more than anything.

Jason was a little different. He didn’t probe Damian about it, and he didn’t drown Damian in affection. Instead, he told Damian that he understood. That he had felt that way before, and that he was more than willing to help Damian through it. He even gifted Damian a small flip phone for whenever he needed to call him.

And Damian would end up using it. Sometimes, he would rant to his older brother for hours, but other times he wouldn’t even say anything. He would just sit there, and find comfort in the fact that Jason was on the other side of the line.

Jason was never the first one to hang up, he was there for Damian the entire time.

Damian found that every time he came to terms with the fact that someone cared, he would cough up a whole garden of flowers. Eventually, Damian realized that he had flowers for each person in his family, and when he realized that someone loved him he would cough up their flowers.

With how much love and adoration his family dumped on him, it was hard NOT to believe he was wanted. Damian almost found it funny how blind he had previously been.

eventually, Damian rid himself fully of his Azalea flowers. He didn’t do it by himself. He had help every step of the way. His family supported him and assisted him throughout his healing journey. It was not quick. It took months to help Damian out of his previous mindset and fully accept help. Damian still found himself struggling with his self worth, but he knew that he always had someone to run to.

Damian couldn’t have done it without them.

He found himself thinking about this as he and his brothers sat in a booth of the restaurant they had chosen. Damian would have preferred a more sophisticated restaurant than a burger place, but in all honesty he was just content to be spending time with his family.

Even if they were being immensely irritating.

Damian listened to Jason and Tim bicker as Dick passed each of them their food. As usual, Tim had ordered a large coffee alone with his meal.

Damian was not happy when Dick passed him a kids meal bag.

Damian scowled. “I did not order a kids meal. I want an adult burger.”

Dick chuckled as he ruffled Damian’s hair. “It comes with a toy, Sweetheart.”

“I don't care.” Damian scoffed.

He rummaged through the bag in hidden excitement looking for his toy. Damian did not care that he had a toy, he was only excited for…other reasons. Definitely.

And if he was secretly hoping for a Nightwing toy nobody would know.

Jason took a large bite of his burger, making a sound of admiration. Apparently Todd thought the burger was good. Drake took a large sip of Coffee, and Dick started unwrapping his own burger.

From the corner of his eyes he saw his father smiling proudly, content to watch his children rather than eat. Damian noted the adoration in his eyes as he looked at his brothers, at him, and he wondered how he had ever missed it.

It was so obvious. Almost embarrassingly obvious.

Damian’s face lit up when his hand found his toy. He quickly took it out of the bag, only to groan.

“What? I didn’t want a Red Hood toy”

Jason snatched the toy from him. “Oh, you hit the jackpot kid! If you don’t want it then i’ll keep it.”

Damian frowned. “No. It’s my toy.”

“You didn’t even want a toy in the first place.” Jason argued, dodging as Damian attempted to grab his toy from his hands.

“Well I do now. Give me it!” Damian attempted to grab the toy as Jason used his long arms to keep it away.

“You have to touch it first.” Jason laughed.

Damian imagined they made an odd sight. Arguing and playing kept away in the booth, but he didn’t care. Both because he wanted his toy, and Jason was going to lose, and because playing with his big brother was surprisingly fun, if irritating.

That’s how Damian spent the rest of his lunch, occasionally taking a bite or two, then continuing to get his toy from Jason. It was only when Tim stole the toy from Jason that they stopped fighting each other, and turned towards Tim. 

Tim stood, and made his way towards the door.

“Oh no you don’t” Jason grunted, chasing after Tim. Drake yelped when he saw Jason running at him, and he took off.

Father sighed, and followed after them, mumbling something about kids, and too much energy.

Dick followed them outside, and Damian too followed, stopping at the door.

He smiled when he saw Tim and Jason, running way ahead, and Bruce chasing after then telling them to slow down. Dick began jogging towards them, only to turn and look at Damian.

“Come on, Dami!” Dick shouted, a wide, bright smile on his face. 

Damian smiled back, and followed his family.

Just like he always would.