A/N: Written for a hurt/comfort, first/last prompt on Tumblr. Also, possible spoilers for Batman, Inc.

Trigger Warning: Character death

Disclaimer: I own nooooothing.

It had rained all day, and Damian had disappeared. Of course, no one had told him, and they'd been so careful. Keeping it secret. But he was Bruce's son, and his sudden disappearance could mean only one thing.

Bruce spent the day hunting down the assassin as the Bat while Dick scoured the city for Damian. Oracle had successfully recruited Steph and Jason to help Dick, but Tim was caught up in meetings.

Or at least he would have been had Dick not sent him fifty texts within the first thirty minutes of his next meeting. Seriously though, how does he do that? But it got his attention and explained the situation.

According to Dick, they found out the Intel fifteen hours ago, but Damian had only disappeared one hour ago. No vehicles were missing either so they assumed the brat still somewhere in Gotham.

Tim knew better. The quickest way to find Damian would be to find Talia al Ghul's murderer.

He found them in an abandoned building in Kiev. Crouching in the rafters, Red Robin took notice of Damian's posture. Controlled but still agitated. A gun – where the heck did he get that? – settled calmly against his palm. The object of his attention hung from a rafter above. Tied up like a caterpillar in a cocoon and gagged. And way, way too still. He sent Oracle a message relaying their location and status before gliding to the floor below.

"Red Robin."

For the first time, Tim noticed Damian's own appearance. "Robin." That had to be a good sign, right? But the gun-

"I'm not going to kill him."

"I know." His response was too quick, but he'd rather err too fast than too slow.

Because he didn't know. And according to that waver of uncertainty in his voice, neither did the Demon Spawn.

"I am Robin. I don't kill."

Tim didn't know what to say and didn't know where to go so he stood, slightly behind the boy, silent.

"Why did you have to be the one to come? It could have been pretty much anyone else. Even Batgirl."

That really was an excellent question. He would have thought Batman, at least, would be here by now. "Because we think too much alike. Not taking any of our vehicles? That had to be intentional."

Damian nodded. The gun still in his palm. Still resting against his left side. "I called Impulse. No super strength, but I was light enough for him to carry me to one of my mother's bases."

"You trust him, huh?" Yes, good plan. Let's talk about trust and then inch our way into not murdering anyone today. Tim stepped forward this time, coming up on Damian's left.

He snorted. "More than I trust you."

Tim cocked his head. That didn't deserve to sting, but it did. It also wasn't the point. "So how'd you get the slip on the assassin here?"

"He's no assassin," The boy held the gun up as proof. "He's a sniper, and that made it easy."

At least that explained the gun. Not a traditional sniper rifle but small enough to fit inside a boot. A back-up plan. "What're you doing with the gun, Damian?"

Talia's son flicked his masked eyes to him at the use of his name. It was potentially stupid if the sniper wasn't knocked out, but that would account for his unnatural stillness and the fact that Damian hadn't been yelling at him. And Tim needed to make this personal; he needed Damian to remember who he was now. Or at least who Tim hoped he was.

"I just took it off him so he wouldn't use it on me," The boy clenched his jaw as he faced the murderer once more, "but then it seemed like such a fitting end. Shot with his own gun."

"What about your father?" Speaking of whom. Where the hell was he?

The gun wavered a little, and Tim took another step toward him. "Not to kill, Drake. Just to hurt."

"And if you misaim and hit his heart? His brain?" Frustration seeped through his tone. His voice rose. "What then?"

Damian turned on him then. Angry. His words lashing out where normally his fists would. "He killed my mother. I owe her. I should cut off his head and send it to the clan idiotic enough to try this."

They stood facing each other. Tim no longer shifted his focus on the gun but kept staring straight into Damian's domino-covered eyes. "Then you don't deserve to be Robin. And you don't deserve to be a Wayne."

"Like you know what it means to be either. Please."

"I know Batman. Robin can't kill, Dami." His voice softened. "Not even for his mother."

"Not even for his dad?" Damian's voice turned from mocking to an odd compassion that twisted Tim's insides.

The teen didn't want it to, but flashes of boomerangs and blood dizzied Damian's image. "I didn't kill him."

"Because you're a coward."

"No," Tim scoffed. "Because I knew it wouldn't bring my dad back." Tim reached his hand out. "This won't bring your mother back either. It won't bring you happiness or even contentment. It'll leave you bitter and angry and regretful. And you'll lose Robin for that. You'll lose Bruce."

"Isn't that what you want anyway, Drake?" The boy stepped back sneering.

"No." He had. Dick giving the title to a ten-year-old assassin still ranked as one of the worst days of his life but. He sighed. "You're Robin. You don't kill."

The boy's mouth trembled. "He killed her. With a rifle. She didn't even have a chance to fight."

"I know."

"I won't cry."

"I know."

His face crumpled at that, and Tim grabbed the gun and threw it before hugging the boy to him as they both collapsed to the ground.

It was the first time they'd ever even pretended to hug, and Tim half-expected a knife to his gut. Instead, the boy's shoulders trembled beneath him. Yeah, like even Ra's al Ghul's grandson could control tears. What a brat.

Red Robin? This is Oracle. Batman should be there soon. A pause. Significant even according to Dick's standards. He got a little sidetracked but it was worth it…Talia's alive.

"Hear that, Dami?" He kissed the boy's dark hair before he had a chance to rethink it. "Your mother survived."

Robin shuddered beneath him as his brother surrendered to another wave of tears, and the images of boomerangs finally faded.

If Damian noticed, he didn't say anything.

But he was also Bruce's son, and Tim knew he had to notice. Especially when Talia put a bounty on her own son's head. Then this Leviathan business with her the evil mastermind?

Damian definitely had to know. But as long as Alfred kept Damian at the Batcave, maybe things would turn out okay. Considering Damian's temperament though, and Alfred's notorious habit of siding with Robin, Tim would much prefer they handle this Leviathan business sooner rather than later.

There were just so many of them, and he still didn't know if Dick had gotten his message over the com. The girl in the red dress – Ellie? – was telling him something, but he needed to concentrate. And take care of as many of Talia's ninja as he could.

Noting his options, he yelled over his shoulder. "If I were you, I'd get in the tank!"

Then he leaped into the air, using his grappling hook on the plane model above to provide enough leverage to kick the giant coin into the majority of gun-toting barbarians. That's when the cord holding the plane snapped.

"Uh-oh."

His annoyance did nothing to keep the plane from falling on top of him, and his world went black.

He woke up to the clanging of swords and screaming. And good grief, but that should weird him out at least a little bit, shouldn't it?

"Cowards!" That was Damian. He managed to open his eyes. The plane still weighed on him, but he was Red Robin. Practically immortal, right? He started scooting out, pain exploding in every nerve of his body. But he still caught the whispered, "Coward."

Panic rose this time as he pushed through the pain and managed to stand. Hunched over, maybe, but still ready to fight. The snap of bones as Damian hit against a wall snagged his attention. Why couldn't he have just stayed in the freaking cave?

"Call him off at once, Mother."

Tim gritted his teeth and yelled, his ribs pinching unmercifully at his impertinence. "Hey, Heretic! What kind of name is that anyway? Talia didn't even bother giving you a real one, huh?"

"Stay out of this, Drake." The boy hissed, and the clone didn't bother with the obvious distraction. He lifted his sword, and Tim tried to push his feet forward.

"Tt."

It took Tim a second to realize the arrogant sound had, for once, not come from Damian, and in that second, Heretic thrust his sword into Damian's torso.

Tim screamed. Pain forgotten as he shuffled forward, crawling the last few feet. Heretic yanked the sword from the boy's body and pushed him to the floor with his feet. He turned, his right arm still enflamed, as he walked past Tim and ordered his men out.

Tears burned in Tim's eyes but refused to fall as he tore what he could from his costume to stop the bleed. The boy laid there, his mouth open, struggling to breathe but so quiet. And Tim just wanted him to make noise, to say something, anything, but please don't die. Too many people died. He was so. tired. of people dying.

Damian's hand nudged Tim's away from the gorge in his stomach. Don't bother. The tears fell then. The Boy Wonder had lost too much blood, and Tim could only stay there and do nothing.

But then…maybe not nothing. Tim cleared his throat. "You saved the world today, and Bruce is and will be so proud of you."

His brother's jaw trembled at his words, and Tim hoped he was finally saying the right thing. "You did well." A pause. "Robin."

Damian's breath stopped, and Tim never knew if he heard him. Tim lifted Damian, then, into his arms as he sobbed.

"He saved me," Ellie whispered beside him. And Batman was there. Dropped to hug them both, his cape hiding them as his own tears soaked his cowl.

Lazarus-Pit-crazy or not, Talia was going to pay for this.