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Chapter Text

“You must rest.”

The moment he finished restitching his wound, Bruce tugged away from Alfred. “How can I rest when I can help?”

“At the cost of your own demise? Look at your shoulder, Master Bruce.” Alfred got up and pulled off the bloodied medical gloves with a bit more aggression than necessary. 

“My shoulder is fine.”

“Your shoulder took a spear to it and this is the fourth time this week I have had to restitch it!” Alfred snapped. 

“The people of Gotham need me, Alfred!”

“Your family needs you! Alive! How often must we revisit this exact discussion?”

“It’s just a shoulder wound!” Bruce waved his uninjured arm. “It’s not life or death!”

The exertion caused Alfred to sit back down, already weary from the argument. “What will it take for you to slow down and rest?”

Bruce caught Alfred’s heavier breathing. He knew it wasn’t from the anger, rather from the shouting. His anxiety peaked momentarily at the reminder of Alfred’s rising age. In a calmer voice he tried again, “Gotham needs me, Alfred.”

Behind his heavy breathing, Alfred’s eye twinkled. Bruce braced himself. “Excellent idea, Master Bruce. I will let the others know of our holiday. Shall we say Europe?”

Bruce blinked. “What?”

Alfred stood back up, smoothening his clothes. “If you cannot rest in Gotham, then we shall simply rest outside of Gotham. Greece sounds lovely this time of year, does it not?”

“I can’t just—”

“Master Jason was only just telling me during our last tea that he was interested in a Greek mythology musical of sorts. What a marvellous opportunity.”

“Now, hold on—”

“Poor Master Tim has been overworking himself, did you know I caught sight of him stumbling from a bout of dizziness just yesterday?”

Bruce paused, hand still in the air to cut Alfred off. “Wait, Tim isn’t well?”

“And I am also sure Master Damian had some recent project related to Greek philosophers. It would be nice for him to think you were taking his interests into account.”

Bruce ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, there’s gotta be another interest—”

“Master Dick has been so busy recently, we’ve barely seen him. And what a great time to cement Master Duke’s belief that he is a part of our family, yes?”

“We could just throw a party—”

“And I would much appreciate the break.” Alfred smiled. 

Bruce stopped what he was going to say and his jaw snapped shut with a click. His head slumped down and he sighed in defeat. 

Alfred patted the top of Bruce’s fallen head twice. “Brilliant idea, Master Bruce.”

Bruce could already feel the headache settling in. 

“You literally own private jets.”

“We could have just taken the Batplane.”

“I’m sorry, jets as in plural?”

“I know you’ve only been here a couple months but you live in a literal mansion now, how do these things keep surprising you?”

“I’ll actually rip your throat out if you do that one more time.”

“Breathe?”

“Do we have to go through security?”

“Business seats are still better than economy at least. I remember this one time undercover—”

“I thought we were going through security. I swear, if I left my weapons behind for no reason…”

“You can live without your guns for a week.”

“I bring my guns everywhere I go.”

“Bruce, Dick’s calling his arms guns again.”

“Don’t you have a gun guy wherever you go?”

“Yea, I got some shit stashed around Europe but the point is the principle.”

“I could be getting so much work done right now.”

“Then do it.”

“You want me to throw up on you? I can do it on command. Try me.”

“Do it then. Go on.”

“If he throws up them I’m throwing up.”

Bruce inhaled and exhaled deeply. Gripping the steering wheel tighter, he glanced over to Alfred. A small content smile on the older man’s face. It was nice to see him out of his professional work clothes and in something more comfortable, not busying himself so much and allowing Bruce to drive them to the airport. He had rolled his eyes at Bruce’s insistence to drive despite his healing shoulder. But still. 

“I blame you.”

“I am very much enjoying myself, Sir.”

“Father,” Damian leaned over the head of Bruce’s seat the moment the seatbelt sign switched off. 

“Hm?” Bruce asked, shutting his eyes, ready to grab what little rest he could manage. 

“I understand that all of us cannot cut this insipid trip short.”

“Yes.”

“But perhaps, I may go back to Gotham alone. There is no need to spend an entirety of eight days away.”

At that, Tim’s head popped up a couple seats away. “Hey, if he’s going back then so am I!”

“It’s not like both of you don’t have friends to fly you back.” Jason pointed out, scrolling through the movie selection. 

“No one is going back.” Bruce said firmly. If he had to spend the entire time suffering on a luxurious holiday, then so did everyone else. He wasn’t taking this fall alone. 

He could feel Damian slumping defeatedly into the head of Bruce’s seat. “But Titus and Alfred.”

“Steph promised to stick to their routines, Damian.” Bruce reminded him. 

“It’s not like you didn’t threaten the life out of her.” Tim muttered loudly, still eavesdropping. 

“And if Brown forgets Alfred’s medicine?”

Bruce sighed, realising that Dick had slumped against the window, fast asleep in his seat. Lucky. “She was only teasing when she said she’d turn off the reminders, Dami. She wouldn’t hurt a cat.” Before his son could continue in his unending problems, Bruce cut in. “Batcow will enjoy herself, you know cows are social animals. She’ll have fun at Clark’s farm. And you trust Jon.”

“Oh yeah, he trusts Jon.”

Damian frowned and tilted his head at Tim. “Why do you use that tone?”

“No reason.”

“Tim. The trip hasn’t even started. Don’t provoke your siblings.” Bruce ran a hand over his face. 

“But why did he use that tone?” 

“Watch a movie, Damian.”

“Which one?”

“Hey, Bruce.”

“Tim, please.”

“Duke’s throwing up.”

“Tim, not right n— wait, what?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a vigilante with airsickness.” Dick said teasingly as he soothingly rubbed Duke’s back while they waited for their luggage.

“Shut up,” Duke retorted, but still looked more than pleased that he was back on the ground. 

“I’m sorry, Duke.” Bruce apologised once more. “If I had known then we’d have taken the special plane. It’s built to fly seamlessly.”

“You make it sound like a sex thing.” Jason joked, shrugging his jacket off due to the heat. “He means the Batplane, kiddos.”

“Jay.” Bruce scolded, no energy to actually tell him off but still glanced around for eavesdroppers.

“It’s alright, Duke.” Jason slumped an arm over his shoulders. “It’s not like you gotta fly back or nothing.”

Bruce was glad Duke had nothing like left in him at that moment when just the thought made him double over and heave right as their luggage came rolling passed. 

The family were resting in the hotel lobby as they checked in. Damian sat down heavily on a sofa. The room gleamed with decorations and gold that he immediately identified to be fake. He had so far spent more of his childhood in Nanda Parbat than in America. Gold was a common choice in that area of the world. This flimsy five star hotel did not match the brilliance it tried to fake in any light. Even the marvellous statues and paintings were obviously false. Thomas appeared enthralled but Damian would educate him soon enough. 

“Eight whole days.” Timothy grumbled from the sofa beside him. 

“You were the one who came alone.” Richard quipped back, keeping an eye on Father and Jason who were stood at the reception desk. “Could’ve invited your boyfriend.”

“I did invite him, he just knew that randomly signing off real life in the middle of the week in May was irresponsible.” 

“What? You didn’t sugar daddy your way through your pleading?” 

Timothy’s face reddened, “I am not his sugar daddy.”

Damian scrunched his own face up in detest. Grandfather, who had been silent this whole time from where he was sitting, simply raised a brow towards Richard in disapproval. 

“What about Steph?” Duke asked, coming back from admiring the fake paintings. 

“Absolutely not,” Damian interrupted. “Brown is to care for Titus and Alfred.”

“Well, what’s your excuse? You could’ve called Jon.” Timothy smirked. 

“Jon could not take unplanned time off school. His parents would not allow it. And again, what is with that tone?”

“Boys,” Bruce caught their attention as he made his way back with Jason and a new man. Damian assumed that he would be the private tour guide that the hotel slumped them up with. “This is Dominic, our guide for this trip.”

“Hey, everyone.” Dominic greeted. An evident British accent in his voice. “I’ve been touring guests around Athens and beyond for about six years now. I’ll be sure to show you all the sights and tell you everything I know, but if you have any questions or want to see something specific, feel free to ask!” 

Damian rolled his eyes, already tired from the enthusiasm. 

“Dominic said he’s from Kent, Alfie.” Jason informed, coming around the lean over the back of Grandfather’s sofa. 

“Is that so?” He asked, amused. “Where abouts, lad?”

Dominic seemed to brighten up at Grandfather’s accent. “In Sevenoaks. But I spent my university years in East London.”

“A lovely place, last I saw Kent was many many years ago. I must have been my youngest grandson’s age then.” He commented, gesturing towards Damian. 

Dominic turned to smile at Damian. He responded by a simple stare. Dominic appeared to be about thirty, just around Richard’s age. And other than knowing Greece and being from England, Damian knew no reason to be overly kind towards him. Other than being polite. And Richard had just recently educated Damian on the difference between being polite and being a ‘people pleaser’. 

“Hi, there. I didn’t catch anyone’s names?” Dominic asked eagerly. 

“I am Damian.” He said bluntly, allowing for the others to present themselves. There was no need to be overshare to a man who was simply there to point out the facts around them. 

Before he knew it, they were piling into a small van on their way to the Acropolis. 

It was with the deepest regret in his heart that Damian had to accept defeat and admit that the historical landmark was indeed memorizing. He saved every detail to memory as he roamed his eyes over the stones. The history etched into it all intriguing. Despite the suffocating crowd it was a beautiful sight. Father and Richard were busy listening and questioning the tour guide while Timothy squatted to grab an angle with his camera midst the bustling crowds. Thomas was right by him, snapping his own pictures with his phone. 

“Magnificent, isn’t it, Master Damian?” Alfred asked from behind him. 

“Indeed, Grandfather.” He agreed and allowed the elderly man to rest an arm over Damian’s shoulders, somewhat weary after all the climbing. 

Father wandered close, leaving Richard with Dominic. “Has anyone seen Jay?”

Timothy’s camera clicked as he took a picture, staring into the lens as he subtly whispered a reply. “He left to grab his pew pews.”

Father groaned. Damian felt Grandfather’s body shake as he held in his laugh of amusement. It made Damian smile. Perhaps, this holiday was not as much of a waste if it brought Grandfather this joy. 

They decided to head back to the hotel for a quick rest before heading their next destination. Damian leaned his head back on his seat in the coach as he gazed out. Father had decided on hiring a coach with too much room. Something about being tired of hearing everyone whine. 

The last thing on Damian’s mind was whining. They were planning on kayaking to see Poseidon’s Temple tomorrow evening and he was trying to squash down his excitement for going in the water. Jason on the other hand would not shut up about mythological stories, meanwhile Timothy would not shut up about his stories of ancient philosophers. 

Soon, Damian had seen enough of buildings and people and rummaged through his backpack for his sketchbook. Acropolis and its museum still fresh in his mind, specifically the six maidens. Jason had rambled about how one of the six statues were stolen away and that at night, you could hear the remaining five statues crying for their lost sister. It made Damian feel oddly uncomfortable as he pondered over his own family.  

He felt calmer as he drew onto the page, ignoring the earphones in his pocket to listen to the sound of the pencil and the idle chatter in the coach. Richard beside him was leaning against the window, quiet for once as he ran through his own thoughts. Jason was sat some seats away but Damian could hear his excited voice prattling on and on about the accuracy or lack thereof of some Greek mythology musical with Dominic. The tour guide matching Jason with just as much energy. 

Damian hadn’t realised how much he had tuned out, calmed by the knowledge of his family’s presence around him, that the civilian of their group had startled him by his approach. 

“Woah!” Dominic cheered from beside him, leaning down to look at the sketch. “Did you do that freehand?”

“Uh,” Damian glanced between him and the drawing. “Yes.”

“From memory?”

Richard chose then to speak, “Dami’s real good. Self-taught too!”

“Wow, Dami.” Dominic shook his head in amazement and Damian blinked, about to correct him regarding his name but Dominic continued to speak, whipping out his phone from his pocket. “Do you think I could get a picture of you with it? It would look amazing for our advertising site.”

Bewildered, Damian was unsure of a response. But he did not have to think for long because immediately, Timothy paused in the photographs he had been taking of the views and turned towards them sharply. 

“No photos. Our pictures need to go through a whole process when used for marketing purposes in consideration towards the media. It’s a celebrity thing.” Timothy answered, leaving no room for argument in his tone. 

Dominic shoved his phone away. “Yeah, no, of course. Makes sense. I didn’t think. I keep forgetting you guys are celebrities. You’re all so chill, you know?”

“Right.” Timothy nodded back tersely. “Nothing personal.”

Despite his hobby for photography, his brother had always been peculiar about unsolicited photographs being taken of him and the family. Always saying that they never knew what they would be used for. Father could be odd as well, his response a carbon copy of Timothy’s, but he was currently out of earshot in a conversation with Grandfather and the coach driver. 

Even when Dominic walked back to Jason, Tim followed him with his eyes, ignoring Richard’s questioning head tilt. 

Damian glanced back to Dominic when Timothy returned to his camera. The tour guide did not seem to give Damian any reason for concern. He did not receive any strange aura from him, but the encounter just now had been weird. Simply that. He shook it off, known to overreact to little things, and returned to his sketch. The moment had passed. He chose to forget it and return to the soothing rumble of the road. 

The following afternoon, Damian remained by Richard’s side as they hiked up Mount Lycabettus. The area was bustling with tour groups chattering and solo travellers stopping to photograph the view. Their own little group kept getting caught up doing both, listening to Dominic’s random facts while Timothy and Duke took several pictures. Damian wanted to envy Alfred, Father and Jason who had chosen to return back to the hotel, but the views truly were magnificent. 

“Dami, stand over there.” Richard instructed, taking his phone out for the hundredth time. 

“Ugh.” Damian groaned. 

“C’mon, Bruce wants an update.” He encouraged with a grin. 

“He wanted an update five minutes ago.” Damian grumbled but allowed the photo.

Dominic butted in, “are we maybe ready for a break?” 

In no way were the members of the family in need of a break, but taking into account their civilian identities and Dominic sweating, they all nodded. Timothy and Duke wandered a little away while Richard stayed with Damian. Richard sat on a large rock, fishing out a bottle of water. 

“Hey,” Dominic said. “If your dad wants a picture, there’s a good spot right here.” 

“Oh?” Richard looked to where he was pointing. 

“If you hand me your phone, I can take it. No need for you to get up.” Dominic held out a hand. “Dami, if you could stand right about here so that we block the sun…”

To his annoyance, Damian saw Richard hand over his phone, meaning that he was now forced to play along and pose for the tour guide. “It’s Damian.” He muttered under his breath, barely holding back from stomping to the spot. 

“There.” Dominic said and squatted to get a specific angle. Damian could hear the shutter of the phone camera going off multiple times. “Perfect.”

Dominic stood back up straight and swiped through the images he had just taken before nodding and handing it back to Richard. 

“Oh, wow.” Richard smiled and Damian made his way back to stand beside his brother and peek at the phone. “These are great, thanks, Dom.”

“I’m just the camera man.” Dominic raised his hands in a humble gesture. “The model here is the true artist. Your girlfriend back home would love these, Damian.”

Damian blinked and frowned up at Dominic. “I do not have a girlfriend.”

“No?” Dominic said curiously. “No girl back in New Jersey?”

“No.” Damian said simply. 

“Really?” The tour guide pressed. “Considering how handsome you are? No girlfriend or, I don’t know, maybe a boyfriend?”

Abruptly, Richard laughed loud and fake, startling Damian. His brother wrapped an arm playfully around his shoulders. “My baby brother is too young for all that!”

“Of course,” Dominic chuckled. “I just forget how old he is.”

“I am fifteen.” Damian responded, feeling a flush grow on his cheeks. Or perhaps that was the heat. 

“Right.” Dominic raised a brow with a smile. “I mean I had my first girlfriend at thirteen but to each their own!”

Richard just hummed, standing up from the rock. “Shall we continue on?”

“Of course,” Dominic agreed. “Let me grab your brothers.”

As he walked away, Damian scowled up at Richard who had yet to let go of him. The older man was frowning in thought at Dominic’s direction. “Are you alright, Richard?”

Damian felt that hand on his shoulder squeeze. “Just thinking. I’m going to have Dominic replaced.”

“What?” Damian startled abruptly. “Why?”

“I didn’t like how he talked to you.” Richard said, finally looking down at him. 

Damian felt the flush that had set in his cheeks grow more. “I am… I am not… that is embarrassing!” He hissed quietly so the others wouldn’t overhear.

“Dami—”

“Over a few questions? That is absurd!”

“Okay, okay.” Richard raised his hands placatingly. “Okay. I won’t. But you promise to say something if you feel uncomfortable?”

Damian tutted and folded his arms. “You are being ridiculous. I know to do so.”

“I know.” Richard sighed. “Just promise.”

“Yes.” Damian gritted through his teeth. 

“And don’t be alone with him.” 

“In what scenario would that occur.” Damian held himself back from yelling. “I won’t.” 

“Just checking,” Richard also looked like he was holding himself back from saying more. “Let’s catch up before we get left behind.” 

The holiday progressed, the family visited site after site. Improvising through whatever small disasters the Wayne family kept stumbling upon.

Wandering through the streets of Greece was somewhat delightful in Damian’s opinion. For a handful of minutes. Then it became utterly boring considering it was the fourth day of their trip. 

Damian dragged his feet along through the streets of Delphi. The group had split up and he ended up with Grandfather, Jason and the tour guide. He crossed his arms and leaned against a cart in the market as a street seller presented his merchandise to Grandfather who was quite interested. Dominic translated between the two men. Damian listened in before his mind drifted off. Perhaps he should have insisted on Jon tagging along. 

This same act carried on and eventually they stopped somewhere interesting, a food cart. There were a few in a row which Damian was grateful for, considering the one Jason showed interest in served only meat. They decided to visit that food cart first then make their way over to the vegetarian option. But Jason appeared so pleased with his food that Grandfather began interrogating the Greek man on the recipe, which he was more than happy to share. 

Dominic was the one who had noted that the vendor spoke well enough English and offered to go with Damian to the next cart to grab some food for himself. In the middle of the short route, he placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder which was shrugged off as politely as Damian could manage. He was a tour guide. Not an ally. Dominic didn’t seem to mind, and Damian was simply too grateful to feed his starvation to care. 

“Thank you,” Damian said to the vendor in Greek as he took his veggie roll. He went to get his spare cash out of his pocket when Dominic stopped him. 

“I got it.” He reassured and handed over the money to the vendor. 

“You did not have to,” Damian said while Dominic took his change. “But thank you.”

Dominic waved a hand in the air, “don’t worry about it.” He winked at Damian. “Don’t tell anyone else, but you’re my favourite.”

“I am?” Damian raised a brow. 

“Oh, yeah.” Dominic grinned. “Something special about you, Dami. I definitely find it easier to talk to you more than the others. Wish we had more chances like this where we could spend more time together.”

“Hm.” Damian frowned, pushing the comments in the back of his head as condescending polite chit-chat. Similar to the adults at galas. Things adults said to make kids feel good. He knew it was untrue, objectively aware of his own standoffish mannerisms. Instead, he focused on not spilling the contents in his roll as he started to steer them back to the others. 

On the small route back (and honestly it was barely a minute away, Damian could see Grandfather writing notes on a spare receipt), Damian passed by an older man. Middle aged, also clearly a tourist, who looked Damian up and down as they passed him and tutted loudly. 

He could have continued walking. But Damian had been born with a bubbling temper. He paused, turning back around. “Excuse me?”

“Fucking everywhere, the lot of you.”  The man cursed, looking down at Damian in disdain. 

Damian glared back, mustering as much detest as he could into his gaze. “The same could be said about you. You don’t belong here, either.”

“You don’t belong in this entire fucking continent, kid. The fuck are your parents at?” The man took a step closer. 

“Alright, alright. Come on, Dami.” Dominic put a hand on his shoulder again and nudged Damian along. “We’re sorry about that, Sir. You know how kids are.”

Damian felt his ears burn in embarrassment and rage. He was not the one at fault here. He dug his heels down to prevent Dominic from moving him away. “I am not sorry.”

The hand on his shoulder tightened. “Damian. Stop it.”

He looked at Dominic indignantly. “But I—”

“You heard him, kid.” The man said smugly. “Go on, catch your boat before it sinks without you.”

He gritted his teeth together. Damian was much more equipped in punching than using his words to fight back and he was struggling. Thankfully, before he could think of a retort, a formidable shadow covered over him. 

“What’s going on?” Jason asked, voice low as he took in the scene. 

Dominic swiftly released his hold on Damian, but the teenager barely noted it. Angry. “This man is being racist towards me.”

Jason turned his glare sharply on the imbecile. “The hell you starting here? Huh?”

“Hey, stay out of it, man. These lil’ shits are always smuggling their ways into our countries. You should read up on it.” He reasoned with Jason, attitude comparatively different from how he was addressing Damian earlier. 

Damian tsked. “As if you read.”

The man shifted back to his mind numbing self, “you shut the fu—”

Jason threw his hand forward to grab the man’s shirt. Twisting the fabric in his fist and forcing the man close, glowering down at him as he scrambled at Jason’s fist. “No, you shut the fuck up before I bash your hollow skull in. You hear me?”

“Hey, hey!” Dominic startled, trying to step in. “Let’s just walk away—”

“The fuck do you care, man! You’re like me. He ain't yours!” The man yelled back at Jason.  

“He is most definitely ours.” Damian felt himself relax when this time a familiar hand laid itself on his shoulder. He leaned back into Grandfather. Letting his family take over the situation and nibbling at his roll. “And I believe you owe my grandson an apology.”

The man spluttered. “He ain’t your grandson, old man!”

He yelped when Jason’s grip twisted in his shirt. 

“Oh dear,” Grandfather said, his other hand coming up to also rest on Damian’s shoulders and bracketing him in his subtle embrace. Damian breathed easier. “I may have to ask my dear boy here to cause more harm than was originally intended if you take any longer in your apology to my grandson.”

Jason grinned. “Just say the word, Alfie.”

“Fuck’s sakes, you crazy shits. Fine! I’m sorry— ow!”

“Oops, didn’t hear that.” Jason taunted. 

“I said sorry, shit, let go!” The man shouted in pain, stumbling back the moment Jason (regrettably) released his grip. He wasted no time rushing through the crowds that had formed in blatant curiosity at the spectacle. 

Grandfather’s hands squeezed comfortingly on Damian’s shoulders as Jason reached over to ruffle his hair, asking “you alright, squirt?”

Damian let his brother ruin his neat hair for a moment too long before playfully pulling his head away. “Of course. He was an idiot.”

“Yeah, he was. Lemme know, I can run after him if you want.” Jason said jokingly, but Damian was well aware that he meant it. 

“Let him be. What more can you teach a racist.” Damian shrugged. 

Grandfather released his grasp on him, holding his hand out to the side as an invitation for Damian to take. The fifteen year old huffed before getting over his stubborn pride and accepting the hand. It is not as though he knew anyone in the country who could spot him. They started walking back to the group’s rendezvous spot. 

Dominic walked alongside them, face reddened in bewilderment. “You were risking getting kicked out of the country!”

“Do you have family, young man?” Grandfather asked.

He floundered, not having expected the question. “I mean, I’ve got a few cousins. We’re not close though.”

“Well, I wish you one day have such a bond with another soul that you will not second guess standing up for them.” Grandfather said. 

“It’s as simple as punching in someone’s face if they treat your friend wrong.” Jason shared. 

“I prefer words.” Grandfather said pointedly. 

“Yeah, words. And then punching. Sometimes both.” Jason grinned. 

Dominic just continued to look astounded. Damian ignored him, letting himself be pulled in closer to Grandfather. 

By the time they reached the meeting point, the others had already arrived. With everyone there, it felt comfortable enough that Damian withdrew his hand away, allowing Grandfather to approach Father. Already aware that the recent altercation was being reported. 

Father came to find him as they all walked towards the next landmark. “Alfred told me what happened. Are you alright?” He asked quietly so only Damian could hear. 

Damian continued to chew at the end of his roll. “Grandfather and Jason were efficient. I am unharmed.”

“Good.” Father said. “And you’re sure? It couldn’t have been a nice experience.”

Damian shrugged, shifting his gaze up so Father could see the honesty in his expression. “I am sure, Father. If I am bothered then I will inform you.”

Father nodded and briefly pulled him in for a side hug as they walked. 

As they lined up and waited for Dominic to arrange their tickets, Thomas awkwardly approached Damian. “Hey, Damian?”

“Yes, Thomas?” He asked curiously. He could never tell with the older boy. He was the only one of Father’s wards currently living with them in the Manor but nevertheless Thomas was still uncomfortable most of the time. 

“I didn’t mean to but I overheard what happened.” He rubbed a hand on the back of his head. “And I know that we’re not all that close, but I get it. So if you ever wanted to talk?”

Damian blinked. He definitely had no need to talk over such an interaction. But Thomas was offering his support anyways. Damian supposes he was trying. And the matter was important to him. He had caught Father coming to Thomas’ defense many times even though it had only been few months since he had moved in with them. 

“I appreciate it, Thomas. I will come to you if need be.” 

Dominic came down the line handing them their tickets. Damian inspected the newest member of their family, forcing himself to find some words to ease Thomas’ unnecessary internal dilemma. “Would you like to walk together? Unless you wish to ‘buddy up’ with someone else. It is your choice.”

But Thomas grinned. “That’s cool, let’s buddy up.”

Despite having offered, Damian grumbled to himself as they were shuffled down the line towards the temple. He supposes the trip was not that awful. 

Later that night, when they returned to the lobby of the hotel and were all but dragging their feet, Dominic found Damian who had been rubbing the sleep away from his eyes. 

“Hey, kiddo.” Dominic said, inching them to the side and away from the group. 

“How can I help you?” Damian simply asked, tiredness wearing down his bones. Old scars felt as though they were aching through his skin. He wanted to try sleeping the pain away before reporting it to anyone who would insist on painkillers. 

“I just wanted to apologise for earlier. I didn’t handle the situation very well.” Dominic admitted. 

It caught Damian by surprise, having completely forgotten about the incident. A rude tourist did not hold a match to the deadly combats he had grown up with. “It is fine.”

“Good,” Dominic said in a relieved tone and once again, he placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder. Despite it annoying him, Damian allowed it this time. Too weary to care and cause a fuss. “Let me know if you need anything, yeah, Dami?”

He would not. “Very well.”

The moment dragged and Damian felt uncomfortable with the hand on his shoulder, but he focused on another aspect. “My name is Damian. Not Dami.” Not to him anyways. 

Dominic’s face twisted into something akin to amusement. “I’ll stick with Dami. It suits you better.”

Damian blinked, not having expected the blatant disregard. He did not consider it unreasonable. It was his name. 

“No,” he tried again. “I would prefer you to call me by my name.”

Dominic chuckled and squeezed his shoulder. “You’re adorable.”

The ding of the elevator sounded, Damian pulled away as he retreated. 

“I’ll see you guys around tomorrow!”

Damian did not indulge Dominic with a response, piling in quietly with his family into the elevator, shaking off what just happened when movement reminded him of his body’s complaints. He leaned against the wall tiredly and felt Richard’s hand rest on his nape. His brother silently massaged at an old ache and Damian let his eyes fall shut happily. Barely managing to stay awake. 

“Go enjoy the water, Master Damian.” Grandfather urged, despite avoiding the hotel pool himself. He laid back comfortably on a sun lounger, staying dry in the warm weather. 

Damian pulled a face at Timothy and Thomas in the pool tossing water at each other, making a game out of it. His face scrunched up further when Jason yelled out “cannonball!” And jumped into the pool, bits of water splashing onto Damian. 

“Someone’s scared of a lil’ water!” Timothy mocked from the pool while Thomas tried to spit out the water that flew into his mouth from Jason’s antics. 

“I am not scared!” Damian snapped back. “I simply prefer to stay dry.”

“All that gel in his hair, he’d melt if he jumped in!” Jason joined. 

“I hope you drown.” Damian retorted. Irrationally angry at what he knew was play. He turned to Grandfather. “I am going for a walk.”

“Do not stay away for too long. We would miss you.” He said, eyes hidden behind sunglasses. 

Grumbling at the blush in his cheeks, Damian slid his slippers back on and headed back into the hotel. Despite having been staying here for a few days now, he had yet to explore the building. It was an odd feeling, not searching every nook and cranny in the place he chose to reside in on the first day; simply accepting that it must be safe because why wouldn’t it be?

He wandered through the halls, poking his head into every open doorway, imagining what was hidden behind the doors that were locked. Making note of other hotel residents. Slipping in behind hotel staff and hiding behind corners in places not accessible to the public. Nothing interesting, only kitchens and storage rooms, but it was fun to sneak around where he wasn’t supposed to. 

Damian moved through a hall when he heard Father and Richard walking towards him, also having a stroll through the hotel on their free day. 

He heard Richard’s voice drifting in, “but what if I’m not ready?”

“You are, son. You’ve been asking yourself this for years. You’ve got the ring. Now you just need to ask her the question.”

“And if she says no?”

“You won’t know unless you ask.”

Sensing the seriousness of the conversation, Damian quickly backtracked and retreated down another corridor. It was closer to the pool where he started his journey. A peak in and he noted it was a locker room for those who chose to shower here rather than in their rooms after time in the heated pool. 

Sitting on a bench, typing away at his phone, was Dominic. 

Damian was surprised to see him idle. But he supposed where he was their personal tour guide this week, perhaps when they had a free day, so did he? 

Dominic glanced up, perking up at the sight of Damian. “Hey, kiddo. What’re you doing here?”

Damian entered the room fully. “I was exploring the hotel.”

“Alone? Where’s the rest of you?”

He shrugged. “At the pool. My father and Richard are elsewhere. What are you doing? Are you working today?”

Dominic was quiet for a moment and Damian let him gather his thoughts. “Still working sadly. I was just relaxing for the moment. I came back from Acropolis again with another family. Oh, which reminds me, I wanted to show you something.” He unlocked his phone and gestured Damian to come closer.

Damian crossed the room to him and Dominic patted the space beside him, asking Damian to sit. He did so, peering at the screen. It was an image of Damian and Thomas leaning against each other fast asleep on the drive back to the hotel after kayaking to Cape Sounion. Oddly, he noted that at that angle, no one else on board the coach would have noticed Dominic taking the photo. 

He said nothing as he took in the photo. “I recall Timothy saying not to take photographs of us.”

“He said for marketing purposes.” Dominic waved a hand carelessly. “Besides, this was just too cute not to. And it’s not being posted anywhere. If you give me your number, I’ll send it to you.”

“You have Father’s,” Damian reminded him. Not wanting the hassle of sharing contacts and also not as bothered by unsolicited photos as Timothy. 

“I guess. But how am I meant to keep in touch with you after you go back to New Jersey?” Dominic frowned, disappointed. 

Damian truly did not want to remain in contact with the man, sharing no common interest with him whatsoever. “Perhaps later.” He lied, they were to return in two days, and they were traveling to some island tomorrow, it should hopefully be too hectic to remember.

“Alright.” Dominic cheered up. “Anyway, why aren’t you with the others at the pool?”

Damian kicked his feet, looking around at the tiles on the ground. Two were mismatched. “My tolerance for human interaction had depleted.”

“Social battery died. Gotcha.” Dominic smiled in amusement. “You’re not entirely dressed for the pool anyways.” He commented, looking over Damian’s T-Shirt and knee length swim shorts. 

Damian frowned. Quite done with the conversation. “Yes, I am.”

“You’re wearing a shirt. You go swimming in a top? What’re you hiding, huh?” He teased, bumping his shoulder with Damian’s. 

Blinking, Damian inched away, suddenly uncomfortable. Other than the scars littering his body, he simply had no desire to swim without a shirt. What other reason was needed?

“Hey, I’m only kidding.” Dominic apologised, closing the gap that Damian had made. Damian thought he had moved even closer than before. “I’ve worked with lots of families and made friends with loads of kiddos like you. They just didn’t wear as much as you for a swim.”

A high pitched alarm bell rang in Damian’s ears. Adults didn’t make friends with kids. Right? It was one of the signs…

He abruptly became aware of how alone the two of them were. Cornered away from the other areas of the hotel, the locker room demanding privacy. The close proximity between him and the man. The pressure in the air around him grew heavier. 

“I should go.” He said, but it came out as a strained whisper. Despite this, he pushed off the bench. 

Dominic stopped him. Physically. He placed a hand on Damian’s bare knee. 

A breath caught in Damian’s throat. A sensation he had not felt in a long time rising to the surface. 

Dominic’s hand burned. 

But Damian couldn’t even make himself flinch away. Cemented in place like a mockery of the Greek statues they had been admiring the entire week. 

“Let me go.” He whispered. As if he was restrained. As if this civilian could possibly hold him down. 

He was overreacting. Paranoid. Dramatising what was happening. 

Damian could fight, was allowed to fight, instructed to fight. 

But just like before. He was trapped. 

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Reynolds— no, Dominic asked. His thumb started to rub Damian’s calloused knee, mockingly trying to comfort him. 

“Stop.” He croaked. “I’ll tell.”

“I’ve seen lots of kids like you, Dami. A busy, hectic holiday. Big family, youngest kid. Parents can’t focus on everyone. The babies always say just about anything for attention.” Dominic said in a soothing tone. Damian could swear it sounded sinister. 

A pit of acid bubbled in Damian’s gut. Experience had proven that Father, that everyone, would believe him. 

“What am I doing, calling you a kid? Did you know in Greece, the age of consent is fifteen? You’re not some kid here, you’re a man.”

Damian’s gaze ripped away from the hand on his knee and met Dominic’s. His eyes were different from Reynolds. More violent. But just as cruel. His words confirmed entirely what Damian was dreading his intention was. 

Not just that, he also couldn’t comprehend being a man. He was a kid. A teenager. He was under Father’s protection. He wasn’t ready to be on his own. 

But then he thought of Richard asking Father for advice a mere few minutes ago. More than a man and still asking Father for support.

Why hadn’t Damian listened to Richard all those days ago? Never mind it now. It was too late. 

No, it was not too late. Dominic wouldn’t do this. Damian would be listened to. Dominic may not have listened to him regarding his name, but surely he would now. This was different. Right?

Dominic’s hand moved and it jolted Damian, startling him to return his gaze to it. Dominic’s finger hooked onto the bottom hem of Damian’s shorts. 

And Damian’s heart threatened to implode in pure terror when the hand started dragging the fabric up his leg. 

“Stop,” Damian whispered frantically. 

“You’re fifteen, Damian. It’s okay. Has no one ever touched you here before?”

He flinched back at the words. Back hitting against the cold tiled wall. Memory upon memory assaulting him. 

“It doesn’t matter my age.” He stumbled over his words. Muscles tensing painfully in anxiety. “I say no. I’m—”

He needed to fight. He needed to regain control back of his body. But he sat there. Frozen. Unmoving. Watching the hand trail up. Revealing more and more skin to the man over a decade older than him. Uninvited fingers running over white ridges of scars. 

“Is that why you wear so many clothes? Is your dad not so nice to you?” 

Damian gritted his teeth when he realised that Dominic had moved his face closer, breath hitting Damian’s flushed cheeks. 

The hand was at Damian’s thigh. 

This couldn’t be happening again. 

This can’t be happening again. 

“No.”

“Shush. It’s okay.”

The fingers started to slip entirely under the fabric of his shorts. 

“No.” He pleaded quietly. Stuck in the past and present. 

“Shh, don’t make a fuss. What would your dad say if he found out?”

The question had Damian blink. Vision blurring in dizziness as the world around him fell silent for a heartbeat. 

“You did nothing wrong.”

“You are just as important, if not more.”

“I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“You didn’t deserve it.”

“He did not win.”

“My brave Damian.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“If it happens again, you get help.”

His fingers were now at the edge of…

“Your no means something, Damian.”

A switch had clicked on, and Damian’s body gave him back control. 

He was older now. He knew better. He wasn’t alone. He was Robin. He was Damian. 

Damian grabbed onto Dominic’s wandering hand, he pulled it away from his body and twisted. 

Dominic’s yell wasn’t loud enough to hide the crack of his wrist. 

Jumping to his feet, Damian stumbled from numb legs before gaining his footing and ran. Adrenaline and fear pumping through his capillaries. 

He fought. He fought. He fought!

His breaths were coming in quick bursts, lungs desperately begging for the air he had been denying it during his anxiety. But he didn’t pause. He had to get away. He had to run. To fight. 

He only realised he had come to a stop when his nose sharply erupted in pain. He had collided into a solid body and fell backwards. Hands came to grab his arms and steady him. 

Damian yelled, struggling immediately from the hands. 

“Damian. Dami! Son, it’s alright. It’s me. Bruce. Father.” 

The voice broke through Damian’s torment. He stopped, vision clearing to see Father in front of him, hands placatingly in the air. Richard beside him, equally as concerned. 

As quick as his terror went, it came back and Damian threw himself at Father. Gripping onto the fabric of his shirt and pushing his face into his chest as far as it could go. 

“Father.”

Arms loose but protective enveloped him. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

“Father.” His voice cracked. He felt the air shift as Richard knelt down beside them, looking up at Damian in worry. “I fought. I fought this time.”

“Fought who?” Father asked patiently. “What happened, hun?”

But Damian drew his head back to look up at Father, bringing his hands away from around the waist to cling frantically to the front of Father’s shirt instead. He needed Father to understand. “I fought him. I didn’t let him. I fought and I ran.”

Father’s hand cupped his cheek delicately. Only then did Damian realise he had been crying as the man wiped away his tears. “I believe you, sweetheart.” He promised gently. “Tell me what happened.”

He never doubted he’d be believed. He knew Dominic had been wrong to suggest otherwise. Damian swallowed thickly, sparing a glance at Richard. “I—”

At that moment, Dominic came hurtling around the corridor. Looking disheveled and holding onto his wrist. “Oh, oh, Damian, there you are!”

Instantly, fear grasped at the teenager who rotated around Father. Using Batman as a physical barrier between him and Dominic. 

“Listen,” Dominic started walking towards them, Richard stood up to his full height suspiciously as he eyed the cradled wrist. “You know how kids' imaginations are. They say the oddest things sometimes, right? I would take what he said with a pinch of salt.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes. He looked down at Damian, his kid hiding behind him. His grip on Bruce’s shirt mercilessly tight. His entire body trembling and his wide teary gaze locked onto Dominic. 

Then he glanced at Dominic. The man sweating despite the cool air conditioning. His wrist obviously broken. Anxious. Coming down the same direction Damian had. Telling him that his son was lying. 

Bruce reached behind him and rested a hand on Damian’s back to press him reassuringly closer. He heard his kid’s breath shudder and lean into him. 

He did not like how this looked. 

Neither did Dick. “Damian hadn’t actually told us anything.” Dick’s voice was heavy. Daring Dominic. “What did you think he said?”

“Oh,” Dominic cringed. “Oh, my bad, I— ow. Okay, I gotta get this checked out. You’d never guess what happened.”

“What happened?” Dick deadpanned, raising a brow.

“I’ll fill you in when I get back. This really hurts.” He groaned dramatically and inched away.

“C’mon, Dom.” Dick was instantly by Dominic’s side, swinging an arm around his shoulders to keep him from escaping. It didn’t look too friendly. “I know some first aid, lemme see that.” He took Dominic’s injured hand roughly, causing the man to yell in acute pain but he couldn’t move away without it hurting even more. “Oof, that don’t look too good.” Dick commented, twisting it this way and that while ignoring Dominic’s resistance. 

Knowing the suspect was secure, Bruce looked back down at Damian who was still watching Dominic. Eyes filled with fear that didn’t belong there. “Damian.” The boy tore his gaze away to look up at Bruce. “Talk to me, son. Can you tell me what happened?”

Damian’s face twitched sadly. “I fought.”

“Why did you fight?” Bruce asked carefully. Glancing towards the broken wrist in Dick’s hand and having a clear idea as to whom he fought. 

“He was— he—” Bruce saw Damian take in a shaky breath, trying to centre himself. He was so proud of him. “He put his hand on— on my leg. My thigh. He tried—”

“It was a friendly pat on the leg!” Dominic cut him off. “Your kid’s overreacting, mate, you can’t belie— ack!”

Dick had removed the arm around Dominic’s shoulders and surged forward. Pressing the tour guide against the wall and shoving the bone of his forearm into Dominic’s throat, his grip on the broken wrist tightening. “Shut your mouth before I put your perverted skull through the wall.”

He choked. “I’m not— agh.”

Bruce watched Dick press harder, cutting off his voice. Keeping his own outraged emotions in check, Bruce returned his attention to Damian. “You know I believe you, sweetheart, right?”

Damian nodded meekly, then flicked his eyes back at Dominic. 

Bruce turned around to fully face his kid and placed his body right in front of Damian. Blocking his vision. Damian still kept his death grip on Bruce's shirt and he let him. “What were you saying, Damian?”

He sniffed. “I fought him.”

“Good.” Bruce ran a thumb over another spilt tear. So happy Damian had gotten away. Terrified about what he might not have been quick enough to escape from. “Anything else?”

With some more confidence, Damian tried again. “He pulled my short’s leg up. He was trying to put his hand in… under my clothes. Then I twisted his wrist and ran.”

“Oh, Damian.” Bruce knelt down and pulled the boy in, holding him tightly as he shook. Regulating himself and praying he managed to keep the boiling anger off his expression. “You’re safe now.” He heard Dominic choking harder behind him, he guessed Dick was allowing his aggression to showcase itself more with the confirmation of what had occurred. Bruce leaned down to lay a kiss in Damian’s hair and gently pushed his youngest’s head into his shoulder so he couldn’t see. He kept his arms around Damian as he turned his head. 

“Dickie.” He said and waited for him to look. 

His eldest’s face was enraged. Flushed red and furious. Breaths coming out in smoke. “What?”

Bruce gestured his head towards the CCTV camera. Indicating for Dick not to do anything too drastic. It seemed to frustrate Dick more who chose to crush Dominic’s windpipe harder. Bruce was envious. 

“Switch?” He asked and Dick grumbled unhappily. 

But he still stepped back. They watched as Dominic tumbled down to his knees. Coughing and grabbing at his throat. Not having expected this level of violence from the Wayne family. 

Dick came closer to Bruce and Damian, kneeling down once more. “Hey, Dami.” His tone completely changed as he addressed the teen. “Hug? Bruce is gonna deal with the situation.”

Bruce felt the force it took for Damian to unclench his fingers around his shirt. There was barely a breath’s gap before he threw himself at Dick. “There ya go. I got you, Dami.”

Trusting Damian in Dick’s safe arms, Bruce walked over towards the worm. Dominic was lifting himself up, still struggling for breath, throat bruising. 

And Bruce remained calm. He would treat this diplomatically. This wasn’t his country, his continent. He didn’t have Commissioner Gordon by his side. He was being filmed on CCTV. He was currently celebrity figure Bruce Wayne. He would be calm. 

Then Dominic looked up to meet Bruce’s eyes, an excuse ready on his tongue, and Bruce didn’t even realise that his fist was flying until he felt the cheekbone crush beneath his knuckles. 

“Holy shit, B!” Dick called out, but Bruce heard the grin in his voice. 

He took a breath. Glaring at the writhing man by his feet. Maybe he wasn’t as calm as he thought. 

But fuck it, this piece of shit messed with his kid. 

“He said…” 

Bruce instantly turned his attention to Damian. The teenager appeared to be calming down himself. “He said he did this with other kids. And… I think you should look at his phone. He kept asking for my number… I think he takes images.”

Stomach churning at the implications (at his own memories) Bruce grabbed Dominic’s cracked phone from his pocket. He shoved it in front of the semi-conscious man, unlocking the face recognition. He tsked when the photos app also required Face ID. Listening to Dick murmur soft reassurances to the youngest, Bruce turn the phone to check the pictures. 

Only to audibly gag and drop the device to the ground immediately, the screen thankfully landing facedown on the carpet. He hadn’t been prepared. He didn’t have Batman's steady mindset up front in his brain yet. Just a parent’s worry. He hadn’t been ready for what he had seen. 

“B?”

He shook his head, bringing a hand to his mouth and swallowing down the bile that had risen up. 

Those were children. 

“You two head up to one of our rooms. I’m calling the police.” He spoke, voice hoarse. 

“You sure? One of the others could—”

“I don’t want the others to know.” Damian interrupted in a small voice.

Bruce made a face, unsure how likely it would be that the group of detectives wouldn’t realise something had happened. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, Chum. We’ll try to keep this under wraps, Damian. Go rest, son.” 

He nodded at Dick’s concerned frown. Bruce could manage this. As soon as his sons were out of sight, he took out his own phone to call down someone from reception. He glared at the pedophile at his feet. 

The man tried to get up, but Bruce raised his leg, digging his heel into the broken wrist and grinding down the bones as he waited for the call to connect. 

“Whoops.” He muttered over the gargling screams and put more force into the action. “Clumsy me.”

Dick used the keycard to unlock Bruce’s hotel room, awkwardly walking in with Damian who had yet to loosen his death grip on his hand. 

“Here we are.” Dick said softly, still burying the itching under his skin that had started the moment Damian had come barrelling down the corridor. 

His brother was supposed to be safe. To be secure. And sure, he got away. But he so very easily might not have. He could have frozen. He could have been manipulated. It could have been so much worse and Dick had only been a few halls away. 

Dick shook his head and took a breath. It could have been worse but it hadn’t been. Damian had gotten away. His kid was in the hotel room with him. Shaking. Terrified. But safe. 

Damian’s phone lit up with a notification. Dick caught Tim’s name asking where the boy was and winced. It was really unlikely this would go without any notice. 

“I want to change.” Damian muttered, startled him out of his thoughts. 

“‘Course.” Dick said and looked around the room. 

“I will go fetch my own clothes.” Damian made his way back to the door. 

Dick cringed. It was perfectly safe (downstairs had been ‘safe’ too) but something in him was screaming not to let Damian out of his sight. 

“I’ll be right here.” He said instead and sat heavily on the bed. Squashing down the anxiety. Damian did not have to deal with Dick’s issues. It was evident that the teen was trying to force his independence. To make it seem like he wasn’t struggling and that this entire fiasco was no big deal. And Dick just had to let it all run its course. Had to wait patiently with open arms ready for when Damian decided he wanted the comfort, if it all. 

Why hadn’t he done anything when he noticed Dominic's odd choice of words during their hike? Why had he listened to Damian who insisted on leaving it? Why didn’t he keep a sharper eye out?

He didn’t have the chance to stew in his thoughts for long. Tim was now texting him. 

Timmy: where are you guys?

Timmy: any idea why the police is here?

Timmy: i cant find dami. did he stab someone

Dick: dami and I are in our rooms

Timmy: youre not telling me something 

Dick: leave it for now? Bruce and I are sorting it out 

There was no response for long enough to have Dick rub a weary hand over his eyes. 

Timmy: fine but good luck telling j that

Dick groaned. Dropping his phone to the side as the door beeped open, revealing Damian in joggers and a hoodie. Clothes that were definitely too warm for the current temperature but Dick was going to be the last person to insist he change. 

“Heya,” Dick shimmied up to the headboard of the bed and criss-crossed his legs.

Damian remained standing. He folded his arms. The hood up on his head was for sure heavily grounding and creating a shadow on his face, but he still kept his gaze down, a frown wrinkling his forehead. “I do not wish to speak of it.”

Dick held in the sigh. “Okay. Want to watch something? Order up some food?”

“I am not a child.” Damian muttered and ran his bare foot self-soothingly over the flush of the carpet.   

Dick’s lips twitched. Seems like they were talking about it. He looked the gangly awkward boy up and down. “No, but you’re a fifteen year old teenager. Not really an adult.” He thought back to eleven year old Damian. Less angry and more hurt. But still with no idea as to how to reign in his feelings. Always hiding but also throwing himself at whoever was the first to offer any form of support. How he started to be scared about not being a kid. 

Damian looked uncomfortable but came to join Dick, sitting at the end of the bed. “Apparently, the age of consent in Greece is fifteen.”

Dick shifted to ease the way in which his stomach churned. In his mind, Damian was still too young, the law be damned. “Did you look that up?”

“Dominic informed me.”

He felt his neck warming up with the swift return of anger. It had been extremely satisfying to crush the tour guide’s windpipe but it hadn’t been enough to completely curb the rage. Nothing short of blankly murdering the pedophile would soothe his temper. “Forgive me for not taking his word on it.” He picked up his phone and opened up the search engine. 

Feeling Damian’s nervousness steadily rise, he rushed his research. “It’s fifteen for close-in age relationships.” Dick said as delicately and clearly as he could. No matter how old, Damian has always been more comforted with facts and information. Dick has always been happy to provide this, eager to calm the kid’s storm of emotions. “They have a Romeo and Juliet Law, where fifteen year olds can consent to relationships older than them by about three years. It wouldn’t classify for you and this situation.”

Dick tossed his phone aside, leaning forward towards Damian. “But it doesn’t matter how old you are. You know that right?”

Damian nodded stiffly. Arms still crossed but Dick saw right through the act, the teen was hugging himself, subtly holding himself together. “I said that to him.”

“Yeah?” With the number of talks he had received from nearly everyone in the family, Dick would be surprised if Damian didn’t know. 

“He was arguing the… the age of consent case. I tried to tell him it was irrelevant either way considering I was saying no.” Damian huddled closer into himself. “Not that it mattered to him.”

Dick let out a breath of air. “I’m sorry.”

Damian shuffled closer and Dick stayed still, letting the younger boy come close enough that their crossed knees touched. Once he settled, with his eyes fixed on the bed spread, Damian mumbled “I don’t know what I did.”

“Absolutely nothing.” Dick was incapable of holding back the venom in his voice. “You did absolutely nothing wrong.”

“But then why? This is the… the second…” Damian let out a jittery exhale, letting the silence finish his sentence. 

Dick pressed their knees firmer together. “That has nothing to do with what you did or didn’t do.” He tried to remember what Bruce had said to him, when he asked the same question. Dick spoke around the ball fixed in his throat. “I’m sorry it happened even once. It shouldn’t have happened at all. But you gotta know that it has never once been your fault. There’s nothing you did that made it happen.”

Damian continued to glower at the bed spread, his jaw tense as he clenched it in anger. “I am aware that there are immoral people on this planet. I fight them, I was raised with them, I trained with them. But I just do not understand… I do not present myself as attainable. I dress fully, I do not ask for their attention nor do I befriend many people. I’m cautious. I stay to myself. And yet this has occurred. If I know what it is… what I did then I could… fix it?”

Despite the buzz under his skin begging him to move, Dick stayed still and open, keeping himself soft. 

Because fuck, he needed to move. To gather this kid of his into an enveloping embrace he couldn’t escape from. He wanted to run down the stairs and go back to choking the life out of the pervert. He needed to move. 

He remembered long before he had met Damian, when his body collapsed on the tiled floor in the kitchen, screaming till his throat was sore and asking Bruce the same questions. Frustrated that Bruce didn’t know the answers. 

Years later and now Dick got why Bruce struggled so much. To have your kid ask these things made the world feel like it was tipping over. 

“I swear to you, Dami, there is nothing to fix. It was unfortunate what happened today. There was no action you did and there was nothing you said that forced him to think those things about you. I’m sorry, sweetheart, really I am. It’s not fair.” Dick managed to say, knowing it wasn’t enough. 

Damian’s lip twitched downwards and he raised an arm to roughly rub at his eyes. “I do not wish to speak of this anymore.” He croaked. Damian shuffled on the bed, moving till he was beside Dick by the headboard. He reached for the remote control to the hotel TV and threw it into Dick’s lap. Then he settled back down, ensuring that their knees still touched.

“Okay, okay.” Dick said, leaning back and turning on the TV, scrolling through in search of a show in English. He kept his own knee relaxed, feeling the warmth through the trouser legs. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep in the words he wanted to say. If Damian didn’t want to talk about it then that was fair enough. It was his choice. 

So Dick held in the words. That Damian was safe. That Dick was now there to keep watch. That he was sorry. 

Instead, he was determined to show it. Listening to Damian’s purposefully slow and controlled breaths. Putting on a programme to distract him. Letting him set the boundaries in place and not moving an inch when his kid leaned into him, resting against his side with a shudder. Only moving to wrap a warm arm around his Dami when the younger brother nudged him insistently. Loving him gently. 

Bruce pushed the door open slowly, mindful of his children possibly falling asleep in the time it took to sort out the situation to the best of his abilities as a foreigner. He relaxed his posture once he saw his sons cuddled against each other watching the television. 

Both straightened, Damian rigidly shot upright with his eyes cast downwards while Dick was slower, a questioning frown directed at Bruce. 

Bruce felt calmer walking as he took in the sight, the air drastically different compared to the scene of police officers downstairs. He cleared his throat, “Dick, do you mind checking on Alfred? He’s in his room, he’s supposed to be icing his hand.”

Dick and Damian predictably startled at that, “what happened?” His eldest asked, already slipping off the bed. 

“Guess Alfred knew more Greek than he led on.” Bruce said as he slipped off his hotel slippers. “Apparently he overheard some police officers in the lobby. Next thing I know he’s marching right past me and sucker punching Dominic into unconsciousness.”

“Seriously?” Dick visibly brightens up. Meanwhile, behind him, Bruce sees Damian’s jaw drop open. 

“Had to hand over a lot of money to get the officers on site to let it go. It was worth it.” Bruce lifted a brow at Dick, “might be able to hack into the CCTV if you wanted a look once we get home.”

“I’m gonna have it on loop.” Dick grinned before he turned his attention back to Damian, decreasing his energy appropriately. He was in less of a rush now that they established that Alfred wasn’t in critical need. “Are you okay for me to head over? I can stay.”

Damian shook his head. Bruce caught sight of his throat bobbing on a harsh gulp. “I am alright.”

“Okay,” Dick smiled. “I’ll talk to you later, Dami. Yeah?”

Damian only huffed in response and Dick grinned back. As he made his way out of the room he gave Bruce a hard look when he passed by, an unmistakable mixture of ‘he is absolutely lying’ and ‘talk to him’.

Bruce cleared his throat as he approached the bed, taking Dick’s spot. “What are we watching?” He asked his tense kid. 

Damian crossed his arms tightly around himself, a heavy expression pulling his features down as he glared at the screen. “Something childish.”

“Hm,” Bruce acknowledged, well aware that Damian most likely had not been paying any attention to the show. 

“Who else knows?” He asked, posture still tight. 

Bruce sighed, leaning back against the headboard. “I’m not sure. The police have taken away Dominic and the hotel staff are trying to keep everything quiet to not alert and disturb the guests, but you know your brothers.” He saw Damian flush in the embarrassment of his siblings possibly being aware of the situation and shoved aside his confusion as to why. Everyone had the right to want to keep their hurts private. Just because Damian knew his family would help him in this scenario did not mean he had to make a public display of it. Bruce himself made it a point that he had a strong dislike towards having his own trauma broadcasted, it's only fair he allows his kid to do the same. 

Unfortunately, nothing could be done about the others knowing this specific indecent and Damian was not naïve to it, the teen appeared to be letting it go but Bruce knew it was bothering him. He dropped the matter instead, not wanting to cause unnecessary distress. He’ll later have to make it clear to Jason and Tim to leave it alone. Maybe even Duke if he caught wind of it. 

Damian broke his streak of thoughts. “We’re going to talk now, aren’t we?”

“Only if you want to.” Bruce masked his surprise. 

“All we ever do in this insipid family is talk.” Damian scoffed. “I could get a papercut and be sat down to discuss how it made me feel. Depending on the speaker, I might even be informed that they will enact revenge on my behalf upon the paper that dared to cause me harm.”

Bruce startled both of them by choking on a laugh. Getting ahold of himself, Bruce raised a hand to ruffle Damian’s hair, catching the small smile on his face. He wondered whether his children were still tallying how many times they could get Bruce to laugh for their little competition. 

“If that’s your biggest issue with our family then I’m pretty content with that.” Bruce said. 

They settled back into a quiet. Bruce blankly watched the screen, overthinking what it was he wanted to say. What would be appropriate to help Damian feel better. 

Once again, it was Damian who spoke first. His body stiffened minutely as he tried to reluctantly reveal his thoughts, tensing just enough to catch Bruce’s attention. 

“Father I… I fought him.” He said quietly. Bruce caught onto the words, the same echo from the corridor. As if Damian thought it was significantly important that Bruce knew. 

But Bruce felt his face fall in despair. “I know you did, Dami.”

“I fought him. And I ran away.”

“I know.”

“I did as you instructed.”

“You did.” Bruce paused. “And I’m just as proud of you now as I am of the last time you were hurt this way.”

Finally, Damian’s head tilted up to him. His eyes widened in confusion. “What?”

Bruce felt like he had successfully addressed the matter at hand. “You fought against Dominic today with the information you had. You knew what to do, trusted how me or the others would react. You knew for certain that I would believe your word and take your side.” Bruce smiled sadly. “And back with… with Reynolds, you fought against him with the information you had at the time.”

Damian stopped him with a stuttering shake of his head. “I did not fight.”

“You did.” Bruce insisted. “With the knowledge you had. You told me, as well as the others, what was happening even though it was hard for you.” He sighed regrettably. “But I didn’t hear you. Still, you told me even though it was scary. It was difficult for you. You didn’t fully understand what was happening. You didn’t know I would believe you. He fed you lies and you had no defense against them like you did today. You fought in your own way then. Just as you fought now.” Bruce tried to catch Damian’s eye. “You were just as brave then as you were today.”

He could see the way Damian’s teeth were grinding together as he tried to maintain his composer. Even so, Bruce could spot a subtle wet gleam in his eyes and as a father, his already broken heart hurt. 

“Aw, Dami.” Bruce sighed. “Can I hug you?”

Damian shook his head with a sniff and it warmed Bruce how safe his son felt to easily deny him, a trait hard learned. Nevertheless, Damian leaned against Bruce’s arm, passing over his weight for his father to hold. Bruce gladly accepted it. He’d hold up the earth on his shoulders if any of his kids asked. 

“I’m tired, Father.” Damian whispered. 

“I know,” he replied thickly. “I know.”

“I feel as though I will feel like this forever.”

“You…” Bruce’s head fell back against the headboard with a quiet thunk. “No, I don’t think you will. Everything changes, no matter how impossible the future might seem.”

Damian tutted and sunk further into Bruce’s arm. “What future.” He spat out bitterly. 

“Your future.” Bruce said confidently. “You’re only fifteen, Damian. You’re practically a baby.”

That got a reaction from him, Damian pulled back abruptly, spluttering indignantly. “I am not!”

“You most definitely are. You’re a baby. Tim’s a baby. You’re all babies.” He said with a smile in his voice. 

“Richard is going to be engaged.” Damian retorted. 

“Hey,” Bruce scolded lightly. “Eavesdropping?”

Damian folded his arms. “It is hardly considered eavesdropping if the conversation is held in the halls.”

Bruce shook his head. “I guess we could’ve chosen a better spot. And Dickie is definitely still practically a baby.”

Damian scowled. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” Bruce agreed. “It’s just how I feel.” He smiled. “In all seriousness. This feeling will change. I know life can feel confusing and chaotic at your age. It’s hard to… to see past all the mess and pressures and expectations from everyone. But in ten, no, in even just five years you’ll feel so drastically different, son. You’re growing into someone great. And I’m so honoured to watch you become that person.”

His little boy scowled at the bedding, a blush rising up his neck at his words. Bruce couldn’t help but silently feel relieved he managed to say even that small bit of how he felt. Putting his thoughts into words has always been a struggle for him, something his eldests suffered for. But what kind of person, what kind of parent, would he be if he never learned from his past mistakes. 

“I am also honoured,” Damian mumbled, his blush still growing. “That I have you to help me… and stuff.”

Bruce grinned. “Yeah? Thank you, son.”

Damian huffed and one of his hands reached over to fiddle with the hem of Bruce’s sleeve. The closest he would go to holding hands at that moment. Bruce stayed still and allowed his child to figure out what was comfortable and uncomfortable for him at that point in time. 

They were interrupted by Damian’s phone. A notification tone that Bruce didn’t recognise. It had Damian diving for it in a hurry, a complete change of a person with his tension depleting. 

“Son?”

“It is Stephanie.” Damian explained hurriedly. The image downloaded and a grin erupted on his face. “Look!”

He turned the phone and Bruce saw both Titus and Alfred sleeping besides each other. The message reading that Alfred’s medication for the day had dutifully been administered. 

Damian’s happiness made Bruce feel guilty. “That’s great.” He thought carefully, considering how he would feel if he was made to leave someone he loved so much at home. Especially if they were poorly. “Maybe… maybe next time we can tailor the trip to be more pet friendly. Then we could at least bring Titus along.”

Damian’s jaw dropped and he stilled. “You truly mean that?”

The regret grew within Bruce. “Of course.”

“Thank you!” Damian cheered and threw himself forward. Bruce managed to catch him as always and clung on tightly. Grateful to be holding his boy again.  

“You’re welcome, son.” He leaned down to lay a kiss in Damian’s hair and nuzzled his cheek on top of his head. “If you want, I can take you home today. I know it’s been a heavy day.”

He felt Damian shake his head under his chin before he pulled away to meet Bruce’s eyes. “I would wish to stay. I do not want the trip to end like this. I want to go to the island tomorrow as planned.”

Bruce nodded. “Whatever you want, Damian.”

Damian hummed and leaned back in, getting comfortable in Bruce’s embrace. “Thank you, Father.” He muttered in a whisper. “For listening to me.”

Bruce couldn’t help the way his arms tightened in regret and protectiveness. “Of course, son.” He choked out thickly and laid another kiss down. “I love you.”

Damian felt himself grow heavier as his walls fell. It wasn’t the police puttering about in the lobby that made him feel safe. Nor the locked door. Or the makeshift weapon he had hidden in his pocket when he had left to change his clothes. 

It was Father enveloped around him. And the rest of his family, distant yet present and ready. They helped him feel safe. They reminded him that he could fall. They proved it time and time again. They would protect him just as fiercely as Damian would protect them. Because this was a family. A proper family. 

It felt nice, it felt safe, knowing that his family’s love was unconditional.