A random one-shot because I got bored. Please review.

I don't own anyone sadly.

Set after episode #16, Failsafe.

Damian was training in the cave. His father had been called away and Damian was angry for not being allowed to go with him. The only reason he had not made his own way there was because he had wanted to get some training in without his father's constant glare on his shoulder.

His father, of course, thought Damian was tucked up in bed. So probably did Alfred but Damian couldn't be sure.

He stopped training and slipped into the shadows when he heard the Batmobile speed in. He kept still, waiting for his father to leave the cave. Batman didn't leave. Damian heard the car door open and close and then silence. Then another car door opened and closed. Or maybe it was the same one and Batman had left something in the car.

"Robin, if you're worried, you need to tell me about it." Batman's grave voice said.

Damian managed to hold back his gasp but was ready to leave his cover, guessing his father knew he was in the cave.

Another voice broke through.

"Bruce... I... just wanna go to bed."

From his shadowy perch, Damian analysed the voice. It was a male's voice but young, prepubescent. It must have been a child's voice, just a little bit older than him.

"Can you... Just take of the mask!" the boy shouted.

Damian heard sobbing, guessing the boy had broken down into tears. Part of Damian wanted to do the same. His own father had replaced him just like the other Robins. The only difference was that he had had the decency of firing the other Robins before replacing them.

"Dick, I'm just going to call Clark." Damian heard his father say.

The young assassin bit his lip, unsure what to think. Dick was a young man. He had retired from the role of Robin years ago and was now a hero in his own right. He had even been Batman for a time. Damian considered that he may have travelled back in time but shook his head. He was sure he would have noticed that happening. Maybe this young Dick had come to the future? Or Nightwing had been turned into a teenager by one of the villains he fought?

Damian heard his father leave the cave and listened to the crying for a few seconds more. He was torn between talking to the boy who would grow up to be someone Damian loved and respected and just letting the boy be. Damian wasn't sure if he was comfortable with how much compassion he felt towards the boy as he cried.

"I know you're there." young Dick said slowly.

His voice caught on the word 'know' and Damian found himself pulling deeper into the shadows.

"I'm Robin, or at least I was. He's not my Bruce any more. He's changed. I had to get him to take off his mask to check... To check..."

The boy didn't finish his sentence. Damian walked out of the shadows. He studied the boy. It was Dick, of course. The boy's blue eyes were unmistakable. His black hair looked messy and his cheeks were puffy, red and tear-soaked. He tried to force a smile at the image of another boy wearing his uniform but he simply couldn't.

"What's your name?" Dick asked, simply.

Damian didn't answer. He walked over to the seat the boy sat on and sat down opposite him. He tried to ignore him, knowing Dick said that sometimes there is all the good in the world done by just being able to see someone you knew you could trust.

"You look like him." Dick said slowly, taking in the way the other boy held himself. "And you're trying to be like him. Stop. It's not worth it."

"What makes you think it's not worth it?" Damian asked, shifting around to face the boy.

He was interested. Dick had been Batman while Damian had started out as Robin. He had often wondered how Dick had felt about the role, if he had ever regreted taking up the cowl. Dick would answer when Damian asked but there was never a truth in his words. Damian guessed there would be truth in the words of a crying boy.

"I just watched everyone in the world I cared about die and I sent them out there to do it. I gave the orders. Kaldur died and it was me and I messed up and people died. My friends."

The boy had turned white. His hands shook in front of him. Damian found himself slipping off his cape and resting it over Dick's cape. Dick may have been three or four years older than the assassin but he was broken.

"Do you still want to be a hero?" Damian asked.

Dick nodded gently. He looked down at the ground.

"I just don't want to be him. To have to send someone I care about into the path of something like that with my orders, my plan. Can you imagine how hard that would be for anyone?"

A silence rung in the cave. Damian studied the boy. He shifted uncomfortably. He knew Dick's future, about what Dick did, about him become Batman and sending his little brother into battles while his brother tried to show his love by following his orders, following his plan.

Dick slipped to his feet. He moved as silently as he did as an adult, maybe even more so. His every footstep seemed to take sound out of the air, instead of give it. He stopped by a column and put his arm against it, resting his forehead against it.

"Me and my best friend died in an explosion we caused and they just expect us to pick ourselves up and walk away."

The boy turned around and walked back over to Damian but he didn't sit down. He didn't want to sit down. The assassin watched him carefully. The acrobat stalked like a tiger pacing their cage.

"And I had to check. I had to get Bruce to take off his stupid cowl just to check that it wasn't me because I saw you in the shadows and I thought that maybe Bruce was gone and it was me and... I thought I had become Batman and..."

The assassin stood up but Dick no longer wanted to talk to him. Damian however, had questions.

"Is there anything in the world that would make you be Batman?"

"Not in a million years." Dick murmured.

Then Bruce arrived. He explained everything. Nightwing had been turned into a child during a fight with a super villain. He had been rescued and they were working on a cure. However Dick was now in a very fragile state given the last few moments he could remember.

Damian didn't listen to his father. He didn't listen to Dick's murmurings about a training exercise gone wrong or how much he hated the League.

He thought.

How much must Dick have loved me to become Batman so I had a mentor?