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Damian knew he was bleeding without opening his eyes. His forehead was wet with it, hair sticking uncomfortably to his skin. Iron and mildew flooded his senses with each inhale. A low moan escaped as he started to carefully shift, testing his body. Everything ached. His arms were wrenched back and twisted up between his shoulder blades. Tight cords cut into his wrists, ankles, and knees.
“Hush now,” Someone said, “Stay down.” But it wasn’t his family’s kind hands that touched his rising head. A steel-toed boot settled against his neck instead, pressing him back down. “Wouldn’t want to nick you on accident.”
“Get your foot off of him.”
Grayson’s snarl sent chills down Damian’s spine. The boot complied. At last Damian opened his eyes, blinking until he stopped seeing triplicates of everything. Brick walls. Damp. Water dripping from broken and rusted pipes. The abandoned subway tunnels. Richard was standing in front of him, escrima clenched in his fists, teeth bared.
“Ni’...wing?” His tongue felt clumsy in his mouth.
“Stay down, Robin. You have a head wound.” That made sense because he couldn’t remember anything after lunchtime. Red caught Damian’s attention from the corner of his eye. He strained to look as much as the growing pain in his neck would allow and immediately choked back a cry.
Jason was slumped on the stone floor, arms tied behind his back. His helmet was cracked open, seemingly as fragile as an eggshell. Blood streaked the exposed side of his slack face, pooling beneath his cheek. He was so utterly still.
Beside him, at the very edge of Damian’s vision, Duke was slowly sitting up. His lip was split, blood running from his nose down over his chin. One yellow armored shoulder was hiked at an odd angle. Dislocated. Yet his hands were also tied behind his back. Damian started breathing harder, blood pounding in his aching skull. How. How did this happen? Who? Was Jason even alive? And Tim, where was Tim—
“It’s alright, Robin.,” He looked back at Richard, who was still staring at the person standing over him, “Everything’s going to be alright.”
A deep voice chucked overhead. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
Damian didn’t think it was possible for Richard to look any angrier, lip curling in disgust. “What do you want, Slade?”
Deathstroke. They’d been incapacitated by Deathstroke and brought here as bait for Nightwing. And he came. Alone. Because Damian failed. How exactly, he wasn’t sure. The evening’s memories were hazy in his aching mind.
“To check in on my apprentice,” Slade drawled, “See how you’ve changed while I’ve been away. I do miss our games of cat and mouse. I heard your attachment to Batman has grown distant these days.”
“Please tell me you’re not delusional enough to think my personal life is in anyway influenced by you.”
“Were my children not your friends? The ones you turned against me?”
“You mean the son you murdered?” snarled Richard. But Slade did something that had Richard lurching half a step closer, hand reaching on instinct towards Damian.
“Ah...so we agree I have an influence after all.” Being so helpless and unaware was not something Damian was used to. He schooled his face into something he hoped resembled anger as he clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to pant like a frightened baby. “Remember who is in control here, Renegade, and watch that tongue of yours.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Reminds you of darker times, doesn’t it?” Malicious humor tainted Slade’s voice. “Rejected. Weak. A failure. I could’ve made you something so much greater if you stayed.”
Richard scoffed dismissively, resting a fist on his hip. “For someone who’s been obsessed with me for well over a decade, you really don’t know me. I’m disappointed.”
“I know it must’ve felt good when you killed for the first time. So good you killed again.” The air changed, growing as cold and frigid as Richard’s body. There was no mocking humor anymore. His jaw was set, arms straight by his sides. Damian swallowed another whimper. The burning in the front of his head was increasing, slowly cleaving his skull in two. Any movement of his hands sent sharp jolts through his shoulders. He couldn’t help. His brother was alone.
“And I know you killed a third time. Death by lightning bolt, was it?”
“Creighton was a monster,” Richard spit the words out, “But he chose to fly in a storm—”
“Yes, yes, you merely guided him into the lightning. Murder is murder,” interrupted Slade, “But don’t misunderstand me, I’m impressed. I want to know why you didn’t collapse like you did with Blockbuster. Panic attack on the roof, I heard?” The words made Richard sway almost imperceptibly, fingers twitching around the escrima. Were his eyes closed behind those white lenses? Now Damian was truly scared. Because what could possibly shake Richard so badly?
Secrets. His brothers had so many secrets. So many files redacted and heavily encrypted to protect his brothers and him from the truth being known. Didn’t they know by now it wouldn’t change his opinion of them? That all he wanted was to be accepted and deemed trustworthy enough to fully know them?
Obviously not. And he could very well die with them believing he could only muster up care for select pieces of them.
It wasn’t hard to imagine the nasty smile Slade must be wearing. “What a reaction. You weren’t even the one to pull the trigger!” A muscle jumped in Richard’s jaw. “I wonder—”
“Shut up!” Tim. He was alive and awake. Damian strained to look again but still couldn’t see past Duke. “You’re sick, Slade! Sick! Nightwing is twice the man you—”
There was the whisper of armor. Of a blade cutting through the damp air. But before Damian could even anticipate a strike, Tim let out a choked cry as the blade seemingly sank into flesh.
“No!” Bellowed Richard, charging forward. But he came to a jarring stop, eyes fixed on Damian, chest heaving.
Warm drops of Tim’s blood splashed onto Damian’s hands as the tip of the blade dragged across his palms. It continued leisurely down his spine, settling at the base. Behind him, Duke was whispering frantically to a now silent Tim, hopefully mobile enough to attend to whatever injury was just inflicted.
“It happened once before,” Slade pressed just hard enough to pierce the first layers of the Robin suit. “I can make it happen again.” Deathstroke’s voice was calm as the sea before a typhoon, like Grandfather’s was before he lashed out.
No. Damian couldn’t go through that again. The brief agony coupled with a mind-rending loss of sensation. The surgeries, the implants, the searing fire that raced up and down his back with each breath when he finally woke up. The look of horror on Richard and Alfred’s faces when they learned he was now an eleven-year-old with a metal spine. To this day there were old echoes of pain, sharp zaps that reminded him of just how fragile his young body is.
Richard’s masked eyes met his, lips pressed in a tight line. His voice shook with barely suppressed rage. “You’re right. I’m not so attached to Batman. I share his code. I respect the lines he draws but I have different priorities. I don’t need his approval like I did back when Roland was killed. Creighton was a monster who killed dozens of children a day while holding their mother hostage. I made a call and saved innocent lives. And I slept well.”
“That was to save strangers you never have to see again.” The blade pressed harder against Damian’s artificial spine. “What about for people you love? Surely the shame and guilt would send you spiraling again.”
“Like I said, Batman and I have different priorities.”
Slade started laughing. “Oh, I’ve missed you Boy Wonder. Go ahead, prove it! Show me you can kill with your own two hands and not collapse.” Metal clattered as he tossed a gun to Richard. “Kill me.”
Richard’s nostrils flared as he cradled the gun in his hands. “Kill you?”
“Is that hesitation? I thought your precious brothers were the priority? Or were you lying all along?”
He had to do something instead of just lying here like a pawn! Carefully, Damian began twisting his wrists, trying to see if he could straighten his arms somehow. Once they were mobile he could—
The blade bit into his skin. “Don’t try it, little bat. Or I’ll make sure Red Hood never takes another breath.”
“It’s okay, Dami.” Richard gave him a shaky smile. “I know you want to help but it’s better if you don’t. I...I’m sorry this is happening.” A tear slipped from under the blue domino mask and Richard ducked his head. Duke sucked in a sharp breath as Richard’s shoulders shook. Damian’s eyes flew open wide under his mask. This...wasn’t possible. After all the stories and fights he’d seen...this was what made Grayson crack? “I’m so sorry. I can’t-I...oh God, Timmy—”
A gunshot exploded into the confined space. A blur streaked overhead as Damian jolted at the ringing noise, wincing and closing his eyes as fresh pain speared through his head. When he opened them, Richard was gone.
“Damian, I know it hurts but I need you to roll ten feet away.” Ordered Richard from behind him, not a hint of tears or cracking words. Gritting his teeth, Damian obeyed. Silent tears flooded his eyes by the time he came to a stop, resting his pounding head on the cool stone floor. Richard was pinning Slade to the ground, muzzle shoved under his chin. A pool of blood was rapidly growing beneath them.
“That’s your femoral artery.” Richard sounded bored, as if he were stuck doing homework. “Yes, I hit it on purpose while you were busy gloating. You know exactly how long you have.”
Slade sneered. “Too much of a coward to put a bullet between my eyes, huh?”
“No. Too above your silly games to play them. You really think you could cower me like that? Thought you respected me.” The muzzle pressed harder into Slade’s chin. “Now I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. I’m not going to give you what you want. I won’t even give you the satisfaction of being beat to a bloody pulp.”
Richard leaned down close, practically snarling in Slade’s ear, “I want you to live. I want you to suffer, to see your kids turn against you no matter what you try because they see how pathetic you are. I want you to see everything you do fail because of me. A little circus acrobat who is forever besting you. And if you ever touch my brothers again, you’ll learn the exact lines I’m willing to cross.”
Slade opened his mouth, clearly ready to test the limits. Without hesitation, Richard shifted and fired right beside Slade’s ear. He flinched and Damian watched in awe as Richard smashed the butt of the gun against his temple hard enough to knock the enhanced man out.
“Holy shit.” Duke breathed as Richard released Slade’s limp body, a thin line of blood trickling into silver hair. But Dick didn’t stop to gloat or catch his breath.
“Duke, status.” Richard tied a tourniquet with practiced ease before abandoning Slade. A wingding flashed in his hand as he bounded over to Damian and began cutting his bonds. “Slowly.” He murmured, helping Damian straighten out his aching arms. From the new vantage point he could see Tim sprawled on the floor, one leg bloody from the knee down. Duke was sitting with his back to him, obscuring most of his upper body.
“I’ve had worse. Tim is alive but unconscious. I’ve got pressure on the new stab wound.”
“Passed out from blood loss?” Richard asked, quickly checking Damian’s head, shining a light in his eyes. “Damian has a concussion.”
“A mix of pain and blood loss is my bet.”
“We can work with that.” He stilled, head tilted. At last Damian noticed the tiny comm in his ear. “Everyone, heads down—”
With a rapid series of booms, Kon-El came slamming into the tunnel, a streak of black and red. He landed hard enough to shake the floor, crouched over Tim’s body, red eyes blazing. “Kon,” said Richard in a calm voice, “Tim is going to be okay. Free Duke and help him bandage Tim’s shoulder.”
Duke winced as Kon freed his hands. But Superboy seemed to settle down as Duke fished out bandages and began applying them to Tim’s crimson soaked right shoulder. “Bastard was twisting the blade,” explained Duke, “Looks like he used a bear trap on his leg.”
“You should’ve hit him harder.” Starfire flew in through the holes Kon created, both fists clenched. Wally West zipped in behind her. And Damian tried not to feel too jealous of Richard and Tim’s friends.
“Kory, help Damian please. Wally, with me.” Richard knelt and tenderly touched Jason’s face. “Hood, can you hear me?”
Damian tried to sit up and get a better view. Kory gently pressed him back down. “Let’s bandage your head first.”
Both Duke and Damian stared, barely breathing, as gloved fingers touched Jason’s neck. “I’ve got a pulse.” Richard announced before taking Jason’s freed hand and pinching between his thumb and forefinger until Jason let out a pained groan. As Wally checked over the rest of Jason’s body, Richard pulled his eyelids back with his thumb and flashed the penlight in them. “Another bad concussion here. Sorry, little wing, but no more sleeping for you.”
“Gotham General?” Wally asked.
Richard shook his head, carefully removing the broken remnants of Jason’s helmet. “Cave. We need to remove their masks and gear for head scans. A hospital will compromise their identities. Duke, alert Leslie. Flash will come back for you.” He sat back on his heels, watching as Wally and Kon-El picked up their brothers and disappeared. “I’m so sorry this happened.”
Duke waved a hand at him. “Not your fault some old man is obsessed with you.”
“I could put a permanent end to the problem.” Koriand’r muttered as she wrapped bandages around Damian’s still bleeding head. Red and silver streaked back in as Wally extended his arms to Duke before vanishing again.
“Thank you, Kory, but that would kind of undercut my whole threat.” Richard flashed a tired smile as he rejoined them. “How’re you feeling, Dami?”
Like an axe was cleaving through his skull from the inside out. Thoughts were also slipping through his fingers. “I…what did Slade mean? Don’t understand...”
Pain flashed through his brother’s eyes. Kory’s green eyes swung to him, reading, checking to see what Richard needed from her.
Richard wasn’t one to glory in death. But he had killed. Like Damian had. Instinct and old habits wanted to demand the entire truth behind Slade’s taunts, why Dick took three lives that Damian was unaware of. But the more he thought about the way Richard reacted, the less he wanted to be the cause of that pain resurfacing. For any of his brothers.
Let them keep their secrets, he still had plenty of his own. If they wanted to share one day, they would. Right now he only wanted to reassure, the same way Richard did for him.
“No. It doesn’t matter. I...you’re my priority too.” Not his most eloquent sentence ever but under the circumstances it was perfect.
Richard huffed a laugh, standing as Starfire lifted Damian and cradled him in her arms. “That’s good to know, Dami.” Gloved fingers gently touched his cheek. A silent thank you. “I’ll see you at the cave.”