Dick and Dami

Ch: 1

Help

"I'm not a child Grayson!" Damian yelled, "I am positive that I am at least capable of taking off my shoes on my own!"

Dick Grayson usually didn't dwell to hard on Damian's constant rejection for help, but today was different. Dick had tried everything, when Damian first came to the Wayne household he tried what his first instinct always told him, to give compassion and kindness. Of course Damian pushed him away constantly. That never seemed to stop Dick before, he'd done the same with Tim and Jason, and everyone else he met, he couldn't help it, it was just his nature to comfort. They say some men just want to watch the world burn, then Dick Grayson is the opposite, always fixing things, people. People like Damian. Thats all he truly wanted, to help the boy. He had tried to leave Damian alone even, to give him his space, but had always been overwhelmed by the need to help. So he turned back to compassion, still always being rejected, but he usually didn't let it get to him. He'd gotten used to it, the rejection. But today was different.

Today it hurt.

"You know Damian, sometimes people need help! You can't shove away everyone who loves you because soon you'll have no one left for when you really need it." With that Dick stalked out of the Bat cave. 'All I want to do is help the damn kid!'

Damian looked up from where he was sitting, one boot already off, the other clutched in his hand, but still on his foot. He stared after Dick. He'd seen him upset before, but never angry. Never had he raised his voice before, not at him. Damian knew sometimes he went to far. He had noticed the pang of hurt in Dick's eyes at times, and even if he would never admit it in his wildest dreams, he wasn't always okay with that. Sometimes it made him feel... guilty? No of course not... Not him, not Damian Wayne. That was what he told himself. But now he felt outright confusion. Dick Grayson, of all people had just yelled at him. Of all people Dick had been the most patient, the most willing to put up with Damian.

Damian sat frozen, replaying the events. He had been taking off his red laced boots, yanking off the right, although being particularly gentle with the left, he was almost positive he had a slight sprain from patrol. He knew Dick noticed it too. But he was in a bad mood. He had gotten injured. 'I have to be better! How stupid of me, getting injured like that,' he thought miserably while he yanked his right boot off. He winced as he touched the left.

Dick had already changed almost completely, the only piece left being the domino mask he was removing at the time.

"Here, I'll help you Dami, It could be sprained." He said without the slightest bit of a condescending tone. That's when Damian had snapped at him.

'It's surely not the worst thing I've ever said to him... hell it's not the worse thing I've said to him today alone,' he sat and thought, 'No, but what's that old saying? The straw that broke the camel's back?' He pondered that momentarily.

'Well what am I supposed to do? I am most certainly not a child, and do not wish to be treated like one!' He absentmindedly rubbed his left boot gently, 'But I have been yelling at him all day...' He argued with himself, but before he admitted outright guilt to himself he backpeddled. 'No, no, no! Am I supposed to dance around Grayson so I don't hurt his feelings? No. I'm a hero not a pansy.'

He pulled at the remaining boot, wincing in pain as it put pressure on the injury. He bitterly cursed at himself. 'Stupid Grayson, and your stupid feelings. I am not the bad guy...'

"You look like you could use some help Master Damian," came a voice from the stairs. Alfred walked over to Damian casually. Damian snorted, 'Why must everyone think I need assistance all the time?'.

"I see you and Master Dick have returned from patrol. Is everything alright? Master Dick left you rather quickly."

"Yes, everything's..." Damian yanked at his boot again in frustration, "Fine." He spat the last word as he yanked harder. Damian gave up electing instead to hold his sore ankle as he willed his breath to stop coming raggedly. Alfred put a hand on his shoulder.

"Master Damian, may I inquire what has happened with Master Dick?" Alfred spoke gently. Damian noticed the specific wording did not ask if something happened, but rather what. 'How does he always know?' he thought, almost bitterly. Alfred's hand pulled away. Damian pulled his knees up to rest his chin on them.

"Nothing." His voice was slightly muffled as he slid his forehead onto his knees, leaving his mouth inbetween them. Alfred's sigh was audible.

"I don't expect you'll refuse an after patrol snack." Alfred trailed off and Damian knew he was being invited to sit in the kitchen and talk.

"No, I suppose I wouldn't." He replied with annoyance apparent in his tone. 'Alfred's cookies are the best, and I am hungry...' he rationalized.

Alfred streightened himself slowly, without taking his eyes off the younger boy still on the cave ground. It was a strange sight, the boy sat in the middle of the batcave half dressed. His Robin cape had been long unclipped and discarded at the entrance of the cave, as well as his utility belt, one boot lay next to him on the ground. Alfred pondered the boy a moment longer.

"I will make a place for you in the kitchen," was all that was gently said.

Damian grumbled slightly when he knew Alfred was out of hearing range.

"...I swear he makes enough cookies for every hour of the day just in case one of us needs to talk..." He continued mumbling as he finished undressing and then redressing into his pajamas.

He changed first into a t-shirt, then sat back down on the ground as he realised he still hadn't managed to deal with the boot still on his left foot. And he couldn't change into his pajama pants with a boot still on, he had to deal with this problem now. Finally resorting to actually untieing the laces of the shoes, he groaned. Gently undoing the laces, he could feel the boot loosening on his foot.

When it was loose enough to slide off he inspected the ankle. He once again groaned out loud. It was bruised and already swelling, definatly sprained, but not broken. He would wrap it later, but now he continued changing then climbed the stairs, to make his way to the kitchen. He took the stairs one at a time, slowly.

'I bet Grayson never did this. He seems more like he wouldv'e been the 'I take the steps two at a time' kind of kid.' He thought bitterly. 'Why am I still thinking about him?' he added in his mind.

He was nearing the kitchen and could already hear Alfred pulling out a plate of cookies. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, and sat at the small table he usually had his after patrol snacks at. A small plate was set in front of him.

"Would you like to begin your story now, Master Damian?" Alfred asked as he sat in the chair across from him. Damian took a bite of a chocolate chip cookie and looked thoughtful, he did not speak, but Alfred was patient.

"I think I feel... I think I... feel..." Damian started but found it impossible to finish. He was unsure of his feelings, it was one he was almost unfamiliar with.

"Guilt?" Alfred finished.

"...I...I don't know...maybe." Damian struggled. 'Guilt? Is that what this is?'

"It might help if you explained more." Alfred suggested, nothing in his voice pushed Damian or made him feel unconfortable. Damian slowly looked up at the man.

"I...I think I went to far Alfred." He was almost surprised at his own words, "I mean, I always say things to Grayson that aren't exactly kind, I don't know why what I said in the cave was different. He asked me if I needed help and I snapped at him...but... he...he," Wet heat of unshed tears behind Damian's eyes surprised him, "...snapped back at me."

Alfred's look of understanding wouldv'e been enough for Damian to feel better but the advise the man gave was even better.

"Dick has a shining personality. He is a rare gem in this world if I may say so. Always trying to please others, to help others. Thats all he wants Master Damian. My observation is that what you said to him was not what put him over the edge, but simply how many times you have snapped at him before. This just put the final fray on his nerves."

"So I should...?" Damian trailed off, waiting for advise to come.

"I am afraid you are not going to like what I suggest."

"...apologize?" Damian mumbled with resentment. Alfred nodded the affirmitive.

"I'm going to bed," and with that Damian excused himself from the table and walked out of the room.

Alfred sat behind, pondering the conversation. By the look on Damian's face when he was talking about Dick, he truly did feel remorse, even if the boy wouldn't admit it to himself. He gave an audible sigh as he got up and picked up the empty plate Damian left behind. He knew Damian hadn't eaten both the cookies on the plate, he must've snuck one into his pocket.

Alfred finished putting the dish away and thought for a moment more, hoping Damian went to apologize rather than really going to bed.