(FIC) This fire is out of control (we're gonna burn the city)
Little Damian fic! yesss! I love Damian and I'm really enjoying his bratty brilliant angry self in Batman and Robin. Poor Dick is out of his depth! I can't help it, I love the tiniest Robin! who's an adorable killing machine whoooooo??
Rating: PG
Characters: Damian, Dick
Word Count: 390+
Summary: Damian needs an outlet or he's going to explode. (Not literally!)
He sets his jaw, his fists closing tightly. Jagged nails -he had to stop biting them, Alfred said, it was unbecoming, but it was hard to stop when everything was so frustrating all the time- bite into the skin of his palms.
Beside him, his so-called brother and current mentor is looking at the same scene he is, though he’s sure they aren’t seeing the same thing.
Dick’s posture is alert, but he’s not ready for action. He’s happy to sit this one out, the coward. His fists tighten. That’s the problem with Dick, that’s the problem with everyone. They are like the firefighters running across the street, too busy putting out fires.
Dick puts a hand on his shoulder. He takes a calming breath -not a deep one, there’s too much smoke in the air, but does one of the exercises his mother taught him, long ago, forever ago, at that time he would rather not remember when he had a family and he thought everything would be okay once he found his father- and tries to look unconcerned.
He fails.
“The fire is controlled. We should get going,” Dick says. “We’re only getting in the way.”
He shoots a smile at Damian. It’s conspiratorial, it’s warm, it says ‘We have a secret, don’t we?’.
Dick has many secrets. One of them is that he doesn’t trust Damian.
It’s okay, though. Damian didn’t come to Gotham to be trusted.
If only… if his father was here, things would be different. He didn’t trust him either, but his father didn’t trust anyone. He didn’t make special rules for Damian. His father knew what it felt like, to always be putting out fires, to bite his fingernails, to be an outcast.
He tries again, to relax and look unconcerned. He lifts his chin and shrugs -Dick flinches for a moment in the way that he always does when something reminds him of their father- and he manages to smile at his mentor, even as he sees another squad of firemen running down the street out of the corner of his eye.
The smile is a fake but Dick relaxes, so at least it’s not a complete failure.
He came to Gotham to learn, to be safe. He came to find his father.
All around him, the city is burning, and he fears that’s all that’s left of him.
Rating: PG
Characters: Damian, Dick
Word Count: 390+
Summary: Damian needs an outlet or he's going to explode. (Not literally!)
He sets his jaw, his fists closing tightly. Jagged nails -he had to stop biting them, Alfred said, it was unbecoming, but it was hard to stop when everything was so frustrating all the time- bite into the skin of his palms.
Beside him, his so-called brother and current mentor is looking at the same scene he is, though he’s sure they aren’t seeing the same thing.
Dick’s posture is alert, but he’s not ready for action. He’s happy to sit this one out, the coward. His fists tighten. That’s the problem with Dick, that’s the problem with everyone. They are like the firefighters running across the street, too busy putting out fires.
Dick puts a hand on his shoulder. He takes a calming breath -not a deep one, there’s too much smoke in the air, but does one of the exercises his mother taught him, long ago, forever ago, at that time he would rather not remember when he had a family and he thought everything would be okay once he found his father- and tries to look unconcerned.
He fails.
“The fire is controlled. We should get going,” Dick says. “We’re only getting in the way.”
He shoots a smile at Damian. It’s conspiratorial, it’s warm, it says ‘We have a secret, don’t we?’.
Dick has many secrets. One of them is that he doesn’t trust Damian.
It’s okay, though. Damian didn’t come to Gotham to be trusted.
If only… if his father was here, things would be different. He didn’t trust him either, but his father didn’t trust anyone. He didn’t make special rules for Damian. His father knew what it felt like, to always be putting out fires, to bite his fingernails, to be an outcast.
He tries again, to relax and look unconcerned. He lifts his chin and shrugs -Dick flinches for a moment in the way that he always does when something reminds him of their father- and he manages to smile at his mentor, even as he sees another squad of firemen running down the street out of the corner of his eye.
The smile is a fake but Dick relaxes, so at least it’s not a complete failure.
He came to Gotham to learn, to be safe. He came to find his father.
All around him, the city is burning, and he fears that’s all that’s left of him.