14. Music

It wasn't often that Damian visited his former mentor in Bludhaven. Mostly, it was because Damian was forced to go to school, then willingly took part in vigilante patrols that took most of his night, then divided his time between pointless homework and less pointless training. The attempts Bruce made to integrate Damian into society were time consuming and completely unenjoyable, leaving Damian mentally exhausted from the sheer monotony, and Damian figured that the months that he went without seeing his brother were justified by that alone.

There was a smaller, darker part of Damian that still hated the man for leaving him alone, even if Damian had wanted to train with his father. They were the best, after all, and the sudden departure had left Damian feeling inexplicably betrayed. If the child were honest with himself, that small part of him played a prominent role in Damian's absence.

Still, there were time when Damian cast the excuses aside—and gave into the nagging guilt that he would deny to his dying day—and surprise Grayson with a visit. He was much too stubborn to actually announce his visits, and he never actually came in through the door, so it was only a matter of time before he stumbled in on something embarrassing.

Hanging half in, half out of the window, Damian regarded his brother with a bemused sort of shock. He was aware that his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn't seem to close it.

Grayson was unaware of his presence—which Damian would have chastised him heavily for, had the situation been any different—dressed in stained sweats and a pair of obnoxiously fuzzy socks. He was completely immersed in some sort of dance mix, blaring from an ancient looking stereo that Damian had never seen the man actually use, slipping and sliding around the floor and he flopped his head around in a painful-looking figure eight pattern. Hair was flying every which way, and Grayson was belting out lyrics in a very, very out of tune voice. Damian was at a loss.

After approximately a minute of this behavior, Damian tugged off a shoe. The boot smacked his former mentor with the sort of precision that was expected of a former assassin, throwing Grayson off balance. He skidded in his obnoxiously fuzzy socks, whirling around with a sudden, clumsy battle stance that made Damian snort. Grayson gaped at his brother, still half in, half out the window, while one techno beat blended into another. This track was much more grating than the last, and Damian finally pulled himself all the way into the apartment, making a beeline for the stereo.

Ah. Blessed silence.

Grayson was still staring at the window when Damian turned from the stereo. His look was one of horror, and he only broke his stare when Damian tossed his other shoe at him.

"Did you climb into my window?" the older man demanded, straightening up and placing his hands on his hips, the picture of indigence.

"Of course not," Damian answered, crossing the room and settling on the couch. The trained operative in him itched to pick up his shoes from their haphazard positions on the floor, but the little boy in him took pleasure in leaving his brother's apartment a mess. "I have no idea how you came up with that idea."

"How did I not notice you opening the window?" Dick persisted, appalled.

"Maybe it was the ungodly screeching that was emanating from the room."

"Oh come on, Dami. That's called music."

"I was talking about your singing, Grayson." And just like that, Dick was launching himself at the couch, and it was just like Damian hadn't missed any time at all.

There's not much to say about this one. Set sometime after Bruce comes back from the dead and Dick goes back to Nightwing. I feel like Damian would be really hurt by Dick leaving, but he wouldn't be able to completely brush his brother off.

Hope you guys enjoyed it! Six more prompts until my challenge is over!