Title is inspired by Marilyn Manson's cover of Cry Little Sister, with the obvious change of course xD

It's been half a year since Damian came to Gotham, and a few months since Bruce died.

October 24th, 2018. 23:26

"Robin get to the civilians." Batman snapped in Damian's ear, jumping down the rooftop to the street level. There were numerous people screaming around him, running away from the building where so many more were still trapped.

"Tt." Damian clicked his tongue, scowling as he followed Batman down. "You cannot just put me on civilian duty, Batman." Damian scowled, following Batman despite his brother's orders. He could hear Dick sigh in his ear.

"Just do it, Demon." Tim hisses in his ear, and Damian rolls his eyes, sending a glare to the building where he knew Red Robin was on the lookout.

"Shut it Re-"

"Robin!" Batman snapped, stopping to glare at him. "Just get the civilians out, that's an order." Damian glares, mouth set in a straight line at the direct order. It wasn't often that his brother used the famous 'Batvoice' on him, despite the fact that he rarely listened. So he knew he shouldn't push his luck now Dick had done this.

"I was not trained for this." He scowls, but he turns around, making his way to the building. Dick sighs at the retreating figure of his younger brother, disappearing into the shadows as if he was never there. He could almost hear Drake's reply in his ear. 'You were trained to kill, demon' but Drake surprisingly kept his mouth shut.

Damian continued to run, shooting a grappling hook up to the second floor before he burst through the window. Several people screamed as glass shattered. He glances at them. There were 7 people, including 2 children huddled close to their parents.

"Robin?" One of the children gasped.

"Who attacked you?" Damian immediately asks, inspecting the room with narrowed eyes. The door was obviously locked, and the only other entrance was the window, which wasn't an option for the civilians without the proper equipment.

"We didn't see him." One of the mothers said. "Someone locked us up here, we couldn't get out, even after the explosion." Damian narrowed his eyes behind the domino mask, glancing at the window. There was really only way out for them, it would take too long for the firefighters to get here, and the fire from the explosion was already spreading.

Damian quickly made his decision, grabbing his grappling hook again and walking over to the window. He carefully shot it so it attached to the roof, giving it a few tugs.

He then motioned the civilians to come near. "You first." He ordered, handing the hook to the only male. He took it rather uneasily, and Damian resisted the urge to growl. "Take her with you, and do not let go." Damian reminded him with a sharp voice, guiding a teen towards him as well. The line could easily hold two people.

The man nodded as the teen wrapped her arms around the men's neck, hesitantly stepping off the ledge. The line slowly guided them down two levels, until they were both standing safely on the ground. Damian grabbed the line, hauling it up and allowing the line to retract into the gun itself so it could be used.

The next one was the woman, with the two children clinging to her for dear life. They quickly went down as well, and Damian repeated the process with the second last civilian. .

"Robin!" Batman's alarmed voice suddenly sounded through his comm, and Damian tensed. "It's Scarecrow, he's behind the explosions." He continued, Damian gritted his teeth because he understood what that meant, it was likely a trap. Without hesitation, Damian pulled the last girl towards him and the ledge.

"Hold on to me." Damian commanded, waiting just a few seconds until he felt the girl wrap her arms around his neck before he jumped. He roughly landed on the ground, but the girl didn't let go of him. He frowned, but the girl slowly turned towards him. Before he could do anything, Damian's vision suddenly filled with smoke.

He cried out, stumbling backwards and the girl let go of him. He gasped, reaching for his breather but before he could do so, a strong kick landed on his chest. Damian coughed, staggering backwards.

"You have failed me, Damian." The girl sneered, and Damian's eyes went wide behind his mask.

"Mother?" Damian whispered, staring wide eyed at the form of his mother. Her dark brown hair loose, tan skin hidden by one of her green garments she often wore. And her glare was solely fixed on her child. Damian shrunk at the sight of his mom, but willed himself to stay where he was, don't move unless giving the order to.

A lesson that had been drilled into him for so many years.

"You are no son of mine, you are a failure Hafid, always has been." Talia spoke with a venomous tone in her voice. Damian winced inwards, taking a hesitant step back. Talia raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that fear I see?" She mocked, unsheathing her sword. Damian glared right back at her, despite his heart racing quickly.

He was away from her, he got away. He had a home, somewhere he could be safe. Why was his mother always ruining things, ruining my life?

"I'm not afraid, Talia." Damian spoke, his voice shaky despite him trying to cover it up. Talia snorted at the name, and suddenly she charged. Damian startled ever so slightly, but quickly reached for his own weapons. He didn't have his sword with him, but it didn't matter, he was better than Talia, he could beat her like he had done before.

Except that he wasn't.

Talia swung her sword, and Damian quickly ducked, attacking her from behind. But it was as if Talia had already anticipated it, twirling around Damian's body and striking from the back. Damian gritted his teeth as he felt the sword cut into his back, and he quickly felt the warm liquid start to soak into his costume.

"You are weak." Talia sneered, kicking him in the chest. He stumbled backwards, blindly lashing out. He felt his heart beat against his chest, faster than it should've be. It wasn't just exhaustion, it was pure fear he was feeling, he knew that. He was afraid of his mother, the realisation shouldn't have hit him that badly.

He had always known that he was scared of his mother.

Talia charged again, and Damian flipped over her, throwing two batarangs at her. She dodged easily, rolling over the ground. She quickly reached for her own belt, throwing a ninja star towards him. Damian barely dodged it, feeling the weapons fly past his head by just a few inches, but luckily not hitting him.

Damian's eyes widened behind his domino mask, seeing Talia coming straight towards her. Her knee collided with his chest, sending him to the ground. His mouth opened in a silent cry, feeling his ribs break on impact. Talia flipped away not seconds after Damian landed on his back. Damian coughed harshly, rolling over.

He tried putting his shaky arms under his body, just barely succeeding. He looked up, seeing Talia approach him again. She stopped just mere inches from his face, and she put the tip of her sword on his chin, forcing him to look up. His heart hammered against his chest, and he could feel tears burn in his eyes.

He couldn't show weakness.

He swallowed back a sob, forcing himself to look up. He felt himself go cold at the object that was in his mother's hand, and she smirked deviously at the reaction.

"Get up." Talia ordered with a cold voice, and Damian shook, both from the pain and from the fear, as he slowly climbed to his feet. Talia sneered silently at the slow speed. "Now turn around." She continued, and Damian swallowed thickly, taking a hesitant step back. Then, he slowly shook his head.

"Mother, no." Damian whispered, a shuddering running through his frame.

"Turn, around." Talia hisses through her teeth, grasping the tails of the whip with her free hand. Damian could only focus on his mother, her mother's cold brown eyes that were so rarely filled with love, but never unconditional love towards him. He realised that now, it took him over 10 years to realise that she never loved it.

She only loved what he could do, what she pushed him to do. She only loved him for the ability to murder people, to follow orders without a question, because of his skills in martial arts. It was then, that he also realised something else. His mom never loved him, and he never loved his mom. And he wished that was the first, but no,

He feared her.

Talia moved and Damian froze, unable to move as she forced his arms behind him.

"No!" Damian cried out, lashing out, thrashing against the figure holding him.

"It's okay, Damian." Talia hissed in his ear, before he felt something sharp sink into his neck. Damian stiffened, feeling his muscles involuntarily go lax.

"No." His voice cracked, and he shifted, trying to wiggle his way out of the tight grip. "Don't hurt me, please. I will do better." His voice was soft, barely audible, and he knew he had to stop. Begging wouldn't help, showing weakness would only make the punishment harsher, he knew that from experience.

But he couldn't.

He cried softly, feeling tears cascade down his cheeks in endless rivers. But Talia never hit him. And whatever she had injected him with finally won, and Damian shut his eyes, succumbing to the welcoming darkness.

"Red, I got him. But we need to get him home fast." Dick hisses in his earpiece. "Robin has been injected with fear gas, I don't how much Scarecrow changed the formula." The worry in Dick's voice was all too evident, and Tim almost winced from the other side of the line, he never liked hearing his siblings so worried.

Especially not over another sibling.

"I'm already on my way." Tim affirmed, and Dick nods shakily, hugging Damian close to himself. His little brother seemed so small, so vulnerable in his hold. He was partly hidden by his Batman cape, looking younger than he often looked while he was awake. The almost permanent glare, or look of distaste was gone.

There was a 10 year old boy in his arms, Dick thought grimly.

"You're gonna be okay, little D." Dick murmured softly, wrapping his arms around Damian's body and hefting him up. Damian's head flopped against his collarbone, and Dick held his little brother as tightly against him as possible before he quickly made his way over to where the Batmobile was parked.

Dick was reluctant to let Damian go, but he knew he had to in order to get him home safely. He quickly got into the driver's seat, starting the car. Dick continuously glanced to the side as he drove well past the speed limit. Damian had fallen against the side of the car, vague lines of discomfort on his face.

About halfway through he started muttering softly, inaudible so Dick was unable to hear what his little brother was saying.

"Just hang on, little D." Dick whispered, more to himself than to Damian. His little brother twitched at the sentence, almost as if he heard him, muttering something Dick recognised as Arabic, but it was too soft, and Dick wasn't fluent enough, to understand what he was saying.

But the fact that he was speaking Arabic worried him. Damian only did this when he was didn't want others to know what he was saying, or he was really distressed or having a nightmare. And Dick knew for sure it wasn't the former right now.

It took way too long for Dick to reach the cave, and he swiftly stopped the car. Before he could reach out for his youngest brother, his door opened. Tim, still in his Red Robin outfit, barely caught Damian before he toppled out of the car.

"I got him." Tim affirmed, picking up the current Robin and quickly carrying him over to the med bay.

"Jason?" Dick asks softly, eyeing warily at the sight of his immediate younger brother. Jason huffed at the look, rolling his eyes.

"Timmers called me, I'm here to help, Dickie." Jason affirmed, and Dick nods. He still didn't fully trust Jason around Damian. He hadn't done that since Jason shot Damian in his spine, paralysing him and forcing Dick to send Damian back to his mother for a while, an experience Damian wasn't thrilled about.

Although he wouldn't admit it.

But Jason had changed since then, he wasn't in his right mind because of Bruce's passing, but Roy and Kory helped him since then.

Tim gently laid Damian on the cot, unclipping his cape while Jason put a pillow under Damian's head. Dick shook his head at the sight, he had rarely seen his brothers act so concerned for Damian, especially Jason. But this was the first time Damian had been dosed with fear gas.

"Do you have the antidote?" Dick asks, worry evident in his voice. Damian was starting to move already, twitching on the table and eyebrows scrunched together in fear. The sedative Dick had given him was wearing off. It was a small dose to begin with, to minimise the risk of the sedative worsening the fear gas.

Or something worse.

"It's the latest version, I don't know if it'll work." Tim muttered, walking back to the table with a syringe in his hand, the antidote. Jason gently peeled off Damian's mask, discarding it without much care.

"Give it, he's been exposed for too long." Dick ordered, feeling the cowl weigh heavily upon him, both literally and emotionally. He always wanted to be the leader, back when he was 13 years old, and just part of the Team. He had always wanted to be Batman, he wanted to follow in his dad's footsteps.

But the older he get, the less he wanted it.

He was a leader, he wanted to be one, but not the leader he needed to be as Batman.

He never wanted to be Batman.

Tim nodded, injecting the antidote into Damian's arm. The boy whimpered, actually whimpered at the injection, trashing and lashing out with panicked limbs. Dick reached forwards, grabbing Damian's arm and pushing him down onto the table as firmly as he could without hurting him.

"N-No!" Damian croaked, arching his back as much as he could. Green eyes widened, staring up at Dick's blue eyes. He was looking right at him, but he wasn't seeing, he wasn't seeing his oldest brother right now, he was seeing whatever Scarecrow wanted him to see, his worst nightmares.

"Dami, please." Dick pleaded, ignoring the way tears streamed down Damian's face. "Focus, little brother. It will pass." Dick murmured, and slowly Damian slumped against the table again, eyes still clouded with lingering fear. Dick carefully reached forwards, hefting his little brother up.

Damian flopped against his chest, head buried in his collarbone. His little brother released a shuddering breath against him, body relaxing in his grip. Dick glanced at Tim and Jason, giving them a slow nod to tell them it was okay, or at least, Dick thought it was, until his hand brushed over the current Robin's back.

His head brushed against something wet, and he looked at it to see blood.

"Timmy." Dick muttered, showing his hand to his two other brothers. "He's bleeding." Dick informs, but Tim was already gone, walking over the one of the closets and roll over a tray with all the supplies they needed. Dick frowned slightly, trying to move Damian, but his brother whimpered at the movement, grabbing his costume with tiny, shaky hands.

Now he hated that Alfred was gone to visit some family back in England. He could really use the Butler's support right now.

"Help me get his costume off, he's bleeding from his back." Dick instructed, reaching for the belt of the Robin costume, and gently taking it off before slipping his fingers under the fabric of his top.

"Grayson.-" Damian mutters, taking in a sharp breath, but his movements were sloppy and weak.

"You're hurt, we just want to help you." Dick explained gently, something he knew often helped calm his youngest brother down. He didn't like not knowing what was going on, he hated not being in control. Black Canary often told him she suspected something more to be going on with Damian.

Almost sure there was.

He grew up with the League of Assassins after all, PTSD was almost a given, and the more time he was with his brothers, the more he showed signs of it. He was slowly starting to realise that he was mistreated for 10 years.

"Stop." Damian hisses weakly, putting shaky hands on Dick's shoulders but he wasn't strong enough to object.

"We're not going to hurt you, little D, you know that" Dick urged.

"That's not what he's afraid of." Jason muttered, a dark look spreading across his face. Dick frowns at the comment, halting his movements.

"What do you mean?" He asks, feeling some unease creep into his body. He didn't like the dark look on Jason's face, or the way his eyes were filled with rage and yet sympathy.

"You'll see. Just don't take out your bullshit on him once you do." Jason added, turning around and stalking towards the exit, leading to the rest of the manor. Dick glances at Tim, before sending a worried glance to his hands again, now smeared with blood and quickly drying.

But the eldest quickly shook his head, reaching for the hem of Damian's costume.

"Please don't." Damian whimpered, but Dick decided to ignore it and, with the help of Tim, pulling it over Damian's head, despite the protests of the latter. Dick's breath hitched, and he could hear Tim gasp at the sight. And suddenly he understood why Jason had said what he did.

Why he insisted on not taking out his bullshit on Damian.

He meant sadness.

Damian's back was filled with old scars, it looked like a battlefield. Lines crisscrossed on his back, some swollen, some significantly lighter in colour. Dick felt anger pool in his stomach as he couldn't take his eyes away from Damian's back. Because there was only one person he could think of right now who could do this.

Talia.

"Dami." Dick whispered softly, but his little brother refused to show his face. "Dami look at me please." Dick pleaded but still, Damian didn't show his face. Dick knew that the only reason Damian was still here was because his body was still weak from both the fear gas and the sedative.

And the only reason he saw Damian's back was because of this. How long would he have kept this hidden? Would he ever tell them how his back looked?

"Jason knew?" Tim whispers softly after a few tense seconds. Dick looked up at Tim, seeing his gaze fixed solemnly on Damian's back, horror written on his face.

"I met him." Damian muttered into the Batman costume Dick was still wearing. Tim's gaze travelled to the back of Dami's head with a small frown. Dick carted his hands through Damian's hair, and he felt the smaller boy relax slightly at the feeling.

"In the League of Assassins?" Dick asks softly, and Tim scrunches up his nose. Of course they knew each other, Jason had stayed with the League shortly after his resurrection. It's where they manipulated him into hating Batman, or tried to at least. Jason was all kinds of messed up.

But nobody could ever take away the love he felt for his family, even if it was in his own messed up way.

Damian nodded against his collarbone, taking a shuddering breath.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Dick asks, prying Damian off his chest to look at him. This time Damian didn't protest, but he immediately averted his eyes, huffing out a breath. He looked so young right now, eyes slightly tinted red, and still a tear lingering in his left eye.

"No." Damian spoke shortly, but firmly. His voice was heavy with tears, which was obviously the reason for his short answer. Dick just didn't know if it was the reason that he refused to talk about the scars, or him knowing Jason.

"Let me at least stitch you up, okay?" Dick then asks, and Damian glares slightly, knowing that it wasn't really a question, or a suggestion. It was a demand, a compromise. And Damian knew better than to think Dick was going to let him go without tending to his wounds first, including his back.

"Whatever, Grayson." Damian muttered, shrugging himself out of Dick's embrace so he was on the table again. There was a wariness in his body that showed both Tim and Dick how exhausted Damian was, but they knew better then to force him even more. Tim silently handed all the materials to Dick.

He knew Damian would only want Dick to help him right now, and Tim was in no mood to protest right now. Dick silently worked on Damian's back, a few tears lingering in his own eyes as his fingers ran over the scars on his little brother's back.

Damian had completely tuned out, almost as if he wasn't even aware of what was happening behind him. He didn't even flinch when the needle pierced his back, and Dick started stitching. He only stared at the table he was sitting on with blank eyes, no emotions to be found in the bright green eyes.

"I met him twice when I was 7, he was… different." Damian suddenly spoke very softly, the blank look in his eyes never disappearing.

"Did you know who he was?" Dick asked, forcing himself to continue working, knowing that that was the best way to keep Damian talking right now. Damian was silent for a few seconds, before he shook his head.

"I did not know. Mother did not explain who he was, other than that he was the son of a great man."

"And what did Talia tell Jason?" Damian frowns slightly at the question.

"That I was her son, and Ra's al Ghul's grandson."

"And he didn't recognise you as Bruce's..-" Tim asks, stopping himself before he could ask the entire question, but it was clear what he was asking, and why. Damian looked so much like young Bruce, so didn't Jason recognise him as Bruce's son?

"He was just brought to life, Drake" Damian hisses. "I do not even know if he truly recognised Talia." Damian added, much less hostile this time.

"So how did he knew of your back?" Dick instead asks. Damian scowls, looking down again.

"He obviously saw them, he thought them to be from my training." Damian said, a degrading tone in his voice.

"They aren't?" Dick felt a sob build up in his throat, but he forcefully swallowed it. Damian scowls again, clicking his tongue.

"Some are," He mutters. "Most were necessary for my training."

"Training?" Dick almost hiccupped, a tear trailing down his face.

"When I was too weak, or when I failed a mission, mother would give me those scars. They ensured I did not repeat such a mistake, that I did better next time." Damian explained calmly, and Dick didn't know what disgusted him more, the fact that Talia hit his little brother, or the fact that Damian didn't see that Talia was wrong.

Dick pulled the last stitch through Damian's back, discarding everything almost directly afterwards and walking around the table so he was in front of Damian. The latter glances up with bright green eyes, and Dick crouched down slightly so he was at Damian's eye level. Neither boy said anything.

"Dami… you do realise that she had no right to?" Dick asks hesitantly, and Damian's forehead pinched ever so slightly in confusion. "What she did was cruel, and unnecessary."

Damian glared at him. "She made me a better fighter, so I could fulfil my destiny." Damian spoke, and Dick put a gently hand on Damian's knee.

"Do you think Bruce hit me? Made me a better fighter that way?" Dick asks softly, almost pleadingly. Damian reeled back ever so slightly, as if he was horrified by the thought.

"I don't know." Damian whispers softly, a sudden vulnerability in his voice that Dick almost didn't recognise. It was rare for Damian to display much emotion, but right now, it was as if he was wearing his heart on his sleeve.

"Do you respect me?" Dick asks, and Damian frowns slightly.

"I do, Grayson, you're Batman." Damian spoke, and Dick laughed sadly.

"Bruce never hit me, little D. Does that make me less of a fighter?" Dick could see Damian's brain wreck for an answer, and Dick knew that there truly wasn't a right one for Damian.

"Mother loved me." Damian croaks out. "Mother loves me." Damian repeats, but it wasn't a statement anymore, it was a question. A desperate question, because he couldn't just accept that what his mother did was wrong.

"I'm sure she does, kiddo, but not in a healthy way. Not like any mother is supposed to love her child." Dick spoke, but Damian shook his head.

"You're wrong." Damian glares, and Dick sighs.

"I know you don't want to accept this," Dick whispers. Of course he wouldn't want to admit his mother doesn't love him. "We'll get through this, Damian, I'm not going anywhere, and you can form your own opinion about your mother okay?"

Damian watched his oldest brother for a few quiet seconds, before he nodded softly.

"Don't leave me." Damian whispered, throat closed up. Dick smiles sadly, ruffling Damian's hair with a fond smile.

"Never kiddo."

"What are you doing here, Timbers?" Dick asks, a slight frown on his face. Tim looks up from his spot on the ground, back leaning against the wall.

"I can't be concerned about my little brother?" Tim asks, cocking his head slightly. Dick chuckles, feeling his heart swell when Tim addresses Damian as his little brother.

"You can, I just didn't expect it." Dick answers, Tim carefully stands up, crossing his arms. "You've never done this before."

"Well things change." Tim mutters softly, and Dick frowns.

"What do you mean?" Dick whispers, watching Tim intensely. Tim sighs, staring at the ground.

"You know what those scars mean Dick… and I guess I should've known this before." Tim mutters darkly. "I thought he liked killing, that he choose to obey, but Dick… he was abused. Talia abused and manipulated him."

"I know." Dick voices softly, throat closing up. He had known, or rather, he had suspected this way the case. At first he had the same idea as Tim had. Damian liked to kill, he liked to be in power, and he thought of himself as superior. Even then, Dick had thought of him as redeemable.

But the more he saw, the longer he spend with Damian, the more he realised that this wasn't Damian. That Damian put on a front that Talia and Ra's created, an image that he hid behind to hide what he was truly feeling at any time, an image that he cowered behind because he still remembered what happened back with the League.

And that mask wasn't easy to get rid of.

"Those scars mean that he failed, he was beaten when he failed. He had to fight to feel safe at home-" Tim frowned even more, and it was as if something suddenly clicked. "He attacked me to .. to feel safe. It was what he was taught, eliminate threats."

"But you weren't a threat, Timmy. I mean, I understand why Dami did it, but he-"

"I was a threat to his legacy. I know Talia wants him to become Batman one day." Tim stops, looking at his oldest brother.

"Which means he has to become Robin first." Dick finishes with a sigh, suppressing a shudder. "He attacked you because you stood in his way of becoming Robin."

"I guess I wanted to make sure he was okay after today-" Tim says softly, looking Dick straight in the eyes. "Just make sure he is, okay? We all have problems, but I don't think he realises his own." Dick lost his parents right in front of him, Jason was abused by his parents, and Tim got neglected.

But Damian.. Damian wasn't just abused for 10 years, he was forced to do horrible things he just now started to realise. Forced to kill, forced to see people get killed, hurt, beaten….And that was probably the worst an of the Robin's had experienced.

"Will you be okay?" Dick asks, and Tim chuckles darkly, nodding.

"I'm not the one dosed with fear gas." Tim says, glancing at Damian's door behind him. "Or the one wanting your company but too stubborn to ask for it." Dick chuckles, hugging his second youngest brother quickly before releasing him. Dick affectionately ruffles Tim's hair, laughing as Tim grumbles.

"Night Timmy." Dick says, opening the door to Damian's room. "Dami?" Dick calls out softly. The room was still slightly lit from the open window, Damian always preferred to sleep with some light from the outside. It was something Tim never understood, but then again, he was a difficult sleeper.

There was a short 'tt' from the bed, and Dick smiles slightly, making his way over to the bed. He slowly crawls into the bed, being careful not to startle his youngest brother. Like the first time he did this Dick thinks bitterly. The first time he ended up with a broken nose and a very angry, and probably also fearful, Damian.

'What the hell do you think you're doing, Grayson?' was his exact response, but luckily that wasn't the case right now. Damian was staring at him with tired green eyes, watching as he climbed under the covers. Dick turned on his side, face turned towards his youngest brother so they were both looking at each other.

"If you're going to say something, do it." Damian snapped irritably, Dick didn't react at first, watching Damian silently.

"I don't know if I should." Dick offered softly, and Damian scrunched up his nose.

"That never stopped you before." Damian retorted, and Dick chuckles softly. Because Damian was right in that regard.

"I don't want to convince you about your mom." Dick clarified. "Especially now I know what she did." Damian frowns at the sentence, but Dick was sure he understood what he just said. His mom.. Talia had forced him to do whatever she told him to, she shaped the way he thought, he was probably punished for having different ideas.

And Dick didn't want to be like Talia.

He wanted Damian to form his own opinion about Talia. Of course Dick hoped Damian realised that Talia did something bad, but he would never forgive himself if he didn't give Damian a chance to form his own opinion.

"She made me a better fighter." Damian snapped, and Dick could feel him becoming more irritable. Dick sighs.

"But at what price?" Dick asks softly, gently reaching for Damian's arm and stroking one of the big scars on his arm with his thumb.

"She loves me, Grayson." Damian hisses, and for a split second, Dick could see a tear shining in Damian's eye, before his little brother quickly turned around. Dick said nothing as he stared at Damian's back, no covered by an old shirt Dick recognised as his own, but right now he couldn't smile at that fact.

Damian didn't want to believe that his mother abused him.

But that was okay for now, Dick would show him that Talia was wrong.

Dick slowly shuffles closer, wrapping his arms around his little brother and pressing him against his chest. Damian stiffened but, much to Dick's surprise, didn't struggle or try to get out of the hug. So Dick took that as sign that it was okay, burying his face in the crook of Damian's shoulder.

Dick frowned slightly as he felt a slight tremor run through Damian's body, and without seeing his face, Dick knew what was going on. Damian was silently crying, but Dick knew better than to say something about it, especially now.

So Dick closed his eyes again, willing the images of Damian's scarred back out of his mind.

He would show his little brother the truth, he would show that is was child abuse and that Talia didn't love him like a mother should.

"G'night, Little brother." Dick murmured softly, but Damian was already out.

There! It's done. Pffff, my very first Damian centric story. I've written him twice before, but never in this continuity and as a main character. Hope he wasn't too OOC. Let me know what you thought guys!