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Damian draws.
His mind reels with the nightmares he had woken up from, his past haunting him with a renewed vengeance. Shouldn’t be surprising, knowing that he can never wash the blood off his hands, knowing that whatever he does he will always be a murderer.
He draws because it’s the only thing he can do without hurting anyone. Going down to the cave would only end in him hurting himself, training more than he should. Overworking himself to bloody knuckles would be foolish and his father wouldn’t let him go on patrol the next day when he notices.
He buries himself in his blanket, his head rests on his pillow as he thinks back on the horrendous mistakes he has made on patrol. Innocents’ blood sticking to his hands as he tried to stop the bleeding from the wounds.
He did everything he could to slow down the bleeding but soon the woman’s grip slackened from his hand, his empty eyes staring at the sky.
Robin failed.
Damian has continued failing.
He looks around for Titus but the dog isn’t in his room. He puts on clothes so he doesn’t freeze in his pajamas before looking for him. Even if he’s sleeping, Damian can sit down next to him without disturbing his sleep.
Walking down to the kitchen to find a snack while on his journey to find Titus, he stops as a familiar scent greets him, wafting from the kitchen. He stays at the door, astonishment showing on his face as he comes across Jason cooking.
Jason hums standing in front of the stove before turning around abruptly, facing Damian.
Damian looks over all the meals. His chest tightens with homesickness, moved by seeing a part of his past that doesn’t make him feel disgusted with himself.
“Todd,” Damian says slowly, his eyes staying on the food. “You’ve been absent for the whole day, when did you arrive?”
“A few hours ago,” he shrugs like it isn’t that big of a deal, like he hasn’t been avoiding the manor. “Alfred’s kitchen is better than mine.”
“Obviously. You didn’t have the ingredients and needed to make use of Pennyworth’s well-stocked pantry.”
“Shut up, I bought them myself.”
Huh, that’s surprising even for him. Damian watches Jason cooking for a few minutes before breaking the silence.
“You did all of this for me?”
“Can you see me just cooking for your sake, kid? I’m not that nice,” Jason grumbles.
“You have stacks of clothes for the homeless kids in all of your apartments, Todd,” Damian remarks, knowing all too well how easily Jason helps out kids in need. “You’re a softie.”
“Says the one who finds a shelter for every homeless animal.”
Damian resists the urge to throw any silverware at Jason. His father would be proud. Or Grayson.
“What are you doing awake?” Jason asks but doesn’t face him.
“You were noisy so I come to investigate what’s going on.”
“Liar.”
“Better than you,” Damian argues without any heat.
“That was really weak, kiddo.”
Damian only rolls his eyes in answer, shoving the plate that Jason has put in front of him away, his previous hunger disappearing.
“So what’s going on?”
Damian purses his lips, his eyes looking ahead, away from Jason.
“It’s nothing, Todd. I’m fine.”
“That’s why you are awake at three in the morning. Because you’re fine.”
Hearing the sarcasm in Jason’s voice doesn’t deter him from keeping quiet about his dreams.
It’s not like Jason could have any sound advice, right? Damian isn’t sure about asking him how he deals with his nightmares when most of the time he looks like he hasn’t slept for days.
But Jason wouldn’t pester him about his dreams and would back off if Damian asked him to.
“If you dare to coddle me, I’m going to stab you,” Damian threatens him even if it doesn’t have any weight in it.
“Somehow I doubt the old man would appreciate it,” Jason quips with a little grin but he gets serious quickly. “Spill it, nobody’s gonna bother us.”
Damian looks at his hands, fingers intertwined in an effort to prevent them from trembling more than they already were. Grayson always told Damian to ask for help if he ever needed it, so why was it so hard to just open his mouth and talk about the innocent lives he was too slow to save?
“I promise I will be less of an asshole than usual,” Jason says seeing his hesitance.
“-tt- Don’t promise the impossible.”
“And they call me the asshole,” Jason mumbles amused as he sits down across from him. “Believe in your big bro, brat.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m fricking awesome,” Jason replies, grinning smugly, his eyes finding Damian’s and waits for him to talk.
Damian tries to find the right words to describe the hopelessness of the situation.
“An innocent woman died a few days ago and I couldn’t do anything other than sit next to her and slow the bleeding,” Damian starts. The guilt eats at him because it’s not the first time he has been late to save someone but seeing the life slowly slipping away from her eyes, breath slowing down - his heart beats faster as he keeps asking questions to keep her awake but she slips away, her hand letting his go. “She had a family, two kids and a husband. They are never going to see her again because of my tardiness.”
“You can’t be anywhere at once.”
“Father sent me alone for once because Gordon had told him there were only a couple of thugs, messing around… but by the time I got there it was just the woman, Kelly bleeding from her stomach,” Damian recalls the moment clearly even now. His hands covered with blood as he tried to stop the bleeding. “He sent me there and I couldn’t even save her.”
“You couldn’t have done anything. Stomach wounds are mostly fatal, you know it.”
Damian knows but it doesn’t help with the miserable feeling in his gut. Even if Jason is right, Damian wants to atone for being too slow.
“I should have been quicker,” Damian snarls, his fists resting on his thighs. “How can I be Robin when I can’t even save people?”
“Okay, stop.” Jason closes his eyes for a moment to gather all his willpower for this conversation. It wasn’t new for a Robin to doubt in themselves. What was new, was that all of this had left Damian’s mouth. “It wasn’t your fault. The call didn’t come through in time, you arrived there as fast as you could, you tried to help instead of apprehending the killer.”
“Not like it meant anything in the end,” Damian says, scowling but his shoulders hunched.
“She didn’t die alone, she knew Robin was right there with her in the end. “Robin gives hope to people, there’s nothing worse than dying alone and you helped her, okay?”
Damian knows without a doubt Jason thinks about his own death, dying alone in the dirty warehouse, waiting for Batman to come as the ticking of the bomb echoed in his ears.
“I have never lost a civilian before,” Damian whispers, like it’s a big secret. “While I was working with Grayson, I never had to face with losing them because we were always on time, never late, we were the best. I don’t feel like that anymore.”
“Damian.” It’s the serious expression that gets his attention with a touch of softness he can accept without bristling. “You’re going to fail and it’s not because you’re a bad Robin or anything like that. You’re going to fail because people are cruel and you can’t always predict your enemy’s every step. You can’t know when a thug’s gonna think of stabbing someone while you’re on the other side of the city. We’ve all had cases when we wished we were stronger and faster. You aren’t alone in this.”
Damian stares, his words stuck in his throat and his lips curl down in displeasure. It seems it doesn’t matter what he does he won’t feel better for a while.
“I hate this,” Damian says, and he hates himself more for tearing up in front of Jason. “I can’t sleep without seeing her face, without hearing her pleading to save her. She didn’t ask me to save her, she only asked me to hold her hand. I hate it, I hate it so much these ridiculous nightmares don’t let me sleep and nothing will help.”
Jason stands, walks up to him and he can’t resist to lean onto him, closing his eyes. Jason’s hands rest on his shoulders and Damian doesn’t need more to loosen up. He never dreamt that he would this close and comfortable in Jason’s presence, but time changes. People change. He’s changed.
“Come on, let’s go back to your room, I’m gonna read you something.”
“I can read by myself.”
“No shit. My beautiful voice’s gonna make you fall asleep.”
Damian snorts but doesn’t say anything. It’s enough for Jason to know his opinion.
“Oh, shut up, you can even sleep on me. I make a good pillow.”
“I will be the judge of that.”