Chapter Text
How Many Slams In An Old Screen Door?
“Father, I do not understand your stance. I am perfectly able to patrol on my own.”
A scoff sounded from across the room, Jason pushed off the wall as he sarcastically exclaimed “Wow, I wonder why little Brucie wouldn’t want to let you go.” I send a sharp glare in his direction.
“If you worry, father, about another … Jason incident, I assure you I am far more capable than a street rat you pulled out of an alley.” Jason’s jaw clicked, teeth grinding together in a fierce glare.
“Well aren’t you a little sunray?” With that he turned and walked out of the room calling behind him, “Someone text me when a decision is made, I wanna know if I should prepare another gravestone. And Damian," at this he pauses, turning ever so slightly back towards him, “These violent delights, often they have some pretty violent ends” It was unclear whether the miniscule flinch on Bruce’s face was the slam of the door or the biting words.
Jason’s parting words hang in the air.
“I’ve made my- “
“Your decision is wrong. I’ve been trained for the past ten YEARS of my life. Far more than these incompetent strays that you’ve managed to pick up. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t be allowed to patrol on my own.” My rant fills the room, the noise falling flat.
Bruce takes a deep breath, trying to quell the rising frustration. “There is no need for you to patrol on your own, ignoring the fact that you are too young, and it is far too dangerous - Damian we’ve been over this.”
“Do you take me for a fool? There’s no logical explanation for sticking together. Your fear is clouding correct judgement. You are too concerned with - “
A sharp wave from his hand cuts me off, “You have a lazy self-defence form, no empathy for the people around you, you’re too violent, Damian. I won’t send you alone until I trust your ability not to brutally injure or threaten to murder every criminal we come across.”
Some new feeling - an uncomfortable new feeling - stings in my eyes - annoyance bleeds through my tone, “I’ve worked to hard to let someone like you drag me away from serving justice. You’re too soft, it’s what got the first Robin killed and it’s what’s driving him away now.” Frustration boils through my blood, settling into my hands, and my legs. I stalk over to the front door with a muttered, “I’ll be home before dawn.” before yanking open the door and slamming it behind me.
Walking down the long driveway I pull up the hood on my jacket, shoving my hands into my pockets. He’s mental, there’s no way to combat an offensive attack if you’re not willing to fight.
‘you’re too violent, Damian’
The uncomfortable push stings my eyes again, pulling at my throat. I walk out onto the streets of Gotham. Angrily I swipe my hand across my face, the tears disappointingly don´t stop coming.
Trust MY ability? What’s wrong with my ability? Is there something wrong with me?
The unknown is your failure, and the known is your mission.
Talia’s words float through my head. Could there be something wrong with me?
Panic strikes my chest. I’m not good enough. My blood rushes loud in my ear. My hands are shaking in my jacket. My hands are shaking in my jacket? It’s not that cold, it’s not even raining.
Jason didn’t finish that quote. “These violent delights have violent ends, and in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which, as they kiss, consume.” He quoted Shakespeare to me?
The unspoken implications rushed through the air. I glare at the pavement in front of me, disregarding the slight fear that rises with that quote. I am good enough, I swear I am. I’ll show them I’ll be the best Robin.
A loud thud came from the alley beside me, accompanied by a small cry. Breaking the spell my thoughts seemed to have on me. Thoughtless Damian, never break concentration in an uncontrolled environment. Selfblame flowed through my head, before I oriented myself in the direction of the noise.
From here I could smell the stench of old beer, cheap tobacco and cigars. Travelling further into the alley my nose wrinkled as my vision was filled with a man, covered with stained clothing, and smelling as if he wasn’t aware what a shower was.
In front of him was a kid, bruises littering his visible skin. The slurred words from the man I could only assume were insults as incoherent as they were, the malice came across easy. As he went for another kick, I quickly jabbed at his pressure points, and he fell easily, his arm falling beneath him at a crooked angle.
The boy that had been in front of him, had his arms covering his head. Smart of him to protect his head at the very least. He seemed as though he was malnourished, however he seemed to be my age. I reached my hand in his direction, pausing when he flinched at the shadow it cast.
“Hello, my name is Damian, I was under the impression that you would like to get away from this man. Was I not correct?”
He looked - peaked - out of his arms to see my hand outstretched, “That would probably be best, ya.” He spoke almost too quiet to hear, but nevertheless made eye contact with me and-
His eyes were amazing. Swirling blues and greens, almost a vortex. His eyes searched mine, seemingly finding something and accepted my extended hand.
With our hands still connected he steps over the unconscious man. “Percy. My name’s Percy.”
I stuttered, “i- uh - yes, it is very nice to meet you, percy.” The simple name tasted strange in my mouth that I was so used to using last names. The proper names.
Percy seemed to notice this and offered, “My actual name is Perseus but no one actually calls me that, Percy is my nickname.”
We walk out of the alley, hands flailing back to our respective sides. “My name is Damian.” As soon as the words fall out of my mouth I regret them. You already said that, idiot.
Percy lets out a timid laugh, joy filling the silence instead of judgment, “Would you prefer to be called a nickname, Damian?” I let Percy take the lead, following him up a fire escape, up to a roof.
“Um, I don’t think that I have one, would that be an issue?”
Again a small giggle came from the boy in front of me, his foot stuttering on a step, tripping him forward-
I caught his arm, pulling him back upwards. “Are you well?” For the second time I wish the words never left my mouth, You just saved him from a beating, Damian of course he’s unwell. “That man… who was he?”
Percy shrugged his arm out of my grasp, and the air was quiet once more. Nothing was said until the roof, he walked towards the edge sitting down to swing his legs.
“My step-father.”
The words startled me, “Would you like me to kill him for you?” I offer, already contemplating the best ways to go unknown.
His eyes widened at the suggestion of a ghost of a smile coming across his face. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ll be okay - I don’t have much place else to go, and he still has my mom’s things hidden.”
I nodded. A quiet rage dripping into my veins at the mention. He’s hiding his mother’s things? Opening my mouth to reply I was cut off by a series of gunshots in a nearby alley. Beside me there was an evidence flinch, and Percy shuffles just a bit closer.
“Your nickname could be Dami, if you would like?” I felt my cheeks flush, with an emotion I couldn’t recognize. “Then we could match, Percy and Dami? If not you totally don’t have to and it was a stupid thought anywa-”
“I would love that.” An almost whispered confession. He beams, and suddenly I can’t look away from his smile. I avert my eyes staring into the distance. Clearing my throat I add, “Would you like assistance for your injuries.” Once again Percy tenses at the reminder.
“I would appreciate being able to help” I add softly, looking down in my lap and picking at the skin by my nails. You’re not good enough for Bruce, why would you be good enough for Percy? The literal one person who talks to you like a person, don’t mess this up.
Hesitation was clear in his eyes, before he sighed, “If you think it would help.” I brightened and looked over to him with a slight grin. He nudged my shoulder, and the bones of his shoulder dug into my arm. Alarmed, I focus on him once more, having been too distracted by the conversation to have paid attention to his clearly malnourished body.
“You clearly need nourishment, shall we go get some food?” I strive for eye contact, but his gaze stays trained on his hands.
“I’m not so su-”
“Nonsense, you need food.” He crosses his arms stubbornly, almost pouting. “Come on, show me your house and I’ll get you wrapped up.” I stood, brushing off my pants before reaching my hand out.
And we found ourselves in a similar situation as before, he sighed muttering something about stubbornness before grabbing my hand.
“Just… don’t like… I didn’t choose to live where I do. Okay?” I nod, trying to give a reassuring smile. It seems to ease some part of him and he leads to the roof access. Shoving his shoulder against the door to push it open, and then quickly jogging down the stairs.
I rush to keep up, staying a couple steps behind him. He opens a door on the second floor, and walks down the hall to a door, with painted blue designs. He opens the - unlocked? - door to the apartment.
A grimace crosses Percy’s face as he gingerly steps through the floor. “Usually I would have this mostly clean but, I was uh…” His face flushes.
“Getting beat up by your pathetic, waste of space of a step-father?” I inquire adding a touch of sarcasm. See Jason I do know what sarcasm is.
Percy opens what seems to be the bathroom door, gesturing me in before closing it behind him. I step back and observe what seems to be a regular routine, he retrieves a decently sized First-Aid kit and dampens a towel.
“You seem quite familiar with this.” I comment, keeping out of his way until he sits on the toilet seat and faces me. His face is set in an unreadable expression, and I get a swift nod. Recognizing it’s all I’m going to receive I continue, “Where are you injured.”
He quickly lists off his injuries, before using the towel to start cleaning off his face. And as the dirt came off the bruises seemed much more prominent, his temple, cheek and jaw were all swollen and purple. Stifling any reaction I might have had I reached through the First Aid Kit and pulled out the numbing cream, along with butterfly strips for the small cuts along his face.
“Would you be able to shower?” I question as I mechanically smooth out the cream. He thinks for a moment before replying.
“Ah, probably not, I think the water bill expired yesterday- I’ve kept a small bucket of water to wash up but as soon as I find my mama’s things I’ll be out of here anyway.” My mouth forms a line as I finish up my work.
“Okay, all done.” An awkward tension floats through the room, suffocating the earlier conversation.
“Thanks Dami.” The flush returns to my face and I turn away and clear my throat. Taking the time to close up the kit and place it back behind the mirror.
“Shall we head out then?” I say when I’ve gathered the courage to turn back around. His eyebrows scrunched.
“Head… where?” He questioned with a look of pure confusion. I smile.
“To get you some food. You look as though you’ve been starved.” He makes a face at me, before we head out of the apartment.
Suddenly he turns to face me while walking backwards - “If you’re calling me starved, can I just say at least I don’t look like I watch horror movies for fun. I mean seriously whats with the whole-” He waves a hand in my direction - encapsulating my entirety.
“The whole what?” He laughs and swings himself back around, once we get back out onto the street I lead to the nearest BatBurger that I can find - staying on the shadows of the main streets. Once there I opened the door for Percy to go in first.
When we step up to order Percy shrinks beside me. I swivel to face him, throwing an inquisitive glance in his direction. He weakly shrugs and pushes me ahead of him.
As I order enough food for the both of us, throwing the total onto Father’s card, almost rolling my eyes at my petty gesture - A little expense won’t kill the billionaire - I’m handed our number and I usher Percy into the dining area.
The restaurant is unusually empty with no more than three other people sitting down. Which was only curious until I remembered what the time was. It was late. Probably time for me to start heading back to the manor. Or we’ll have another Panic meets Dick episode. I shudder at the reminder.
Sliding into a booth we sip our drinks. “Thank you.” comes the timid voice on the other end of the table. A small but genuine, grateful smile is directed at him.
“Anytime.” He laughs a little into his drink and settles more comfortably into the seat. “No I’m being serious, my Father… has quite the establishment so money won’t be an issue. Anytime you need.” I earnestly look into his eyes hoping he’ll believe me.
A blush spreads across his cheeks and down his neck - Are those finger prints on his neck? “Uhm, I appreciate it, thanks.”
I beam - When’s the last time I smiled this much? and a quiet chatter fills the space until the food arrives.
The food service worker places the food in front of us, and across the table Percy’s eyes widen perceptively. “Is everything alright?” His mouth opens and closes a few times as if he’s processing the information in front of him. My concern grows until he says.
“I just don’t think I’ve seen this much food in one place for a couple months.” Something akin to embarrassment trickles its way into his voice.
I offer a small expression of acceptance. And instead of replying I offer him a fry. He snorts, accepting the fry before we both dug into the meal in front of us.
“So.. is your dad like loaded?” Percy asks as he grabs a burger from the pile. Unsuspecting the question I breath in while chewing resulting in me ever so slightly choking. His face turns concerned, until I wave it off.
Taking a moment to cough, clearing my throat - “Something like that.” That seems to be a satisfactory answer and we delve into a comfortable silence.
The food is steadily eaten away, finishing and cleaning our mess as best we can before heading out. “Thank you, Dami.” Percy nudges my shoulder “For everything.”
“Always.”
I try to think of something I can say but before I’m able to Percy speaks into the empty- crime ridden street. “I’ll see you ya?” The almost vulnerability in his tone makes me pause.
“Of course, I will visit as often as my schedule permits.” He huffs out a breath. “There’s no need to visit that often, but we’ll keep in contact?” His hopeful voice makes me feel slightly better about my joy at the thought of talking to him again.
“I would very much enjoy that.” He sends an almost secret smile in my direction, my heart skipping a beat.
We stop in front of his building, turning to face each other. Percy's arms are suddenly around me with a brief tight hug. “Thanks for being a friend, not a stranger.” At that he turns and rushes back into the building.
As I walk back to the manor two words are looping through my head.
My friend.