A/N: This collection of stories was inspired by the song "Who Will Love a Little Sparrow?" by Simon and Garfunkel. It's one of my favorite songs by them, and for some reason it makes me think of the Robins! Enjoy!

Who will love a little sparrow, who's traveled far and cries for rest? ~ Simon and Garfunkel

There's a very old, gnarled oak tree that stands on Wayne family grounds. His father says it has "character," and that's why it's never been removed. The oak is probably at least several decades old, if not centuries, and it looks twisted and ugly, as though something had crushed it when it was smaller, and so it had become nasty and vindictive in its old age.

Damian finds himself sitting in it sometimes. When being a Wayne and a Robin and trying to make his father proud all become too much. When he feels with distinct clarity the fact that this is not the place where he was born. When he becomes inexplicably homesick for an exquisite mansion-compound in the Middle East.

That's when he comes to this hideous tree, climbs into its branches, and tries to rest within its ugliness.

If he's honest with himself, it's not a very restful place, and it doesn't much remind him of the place where he was born and raised. The knots and curls in the branches make any position uncomfortable, and the shapes of the leaves over his head feel menacing and enclosing.

But he can guarantee that it's one spot no one else will ever steal from him, because Dick thinks it's hideous, Drake is secretly scared of it, Alfred just wants to cut the thing down, and his father spends too much time inside wrapped up in his work to care.

He lies in its branches, wearing his hoodie and jeans, and listens to the loudest, angriest rappers he can find on his iPod. All the while his heart breaks inside of him, yearning for someone to see his need and comfort him.

But his pride is too strong to let anyone see his need of care and kindness, so he buries it deep inside the ugly tree and the hoodie and the angry rappers and the earbuds.

One night after a day spent convalescing, Damian falls asleep in the oak.

So he doesn't know when his father comes out looking for him, doesn't see his father's soft smile. Doesn't feel it when his father lifts him gently in his arms, doesn't hear it when his father shuts off the iPod. Doesn't react when his father brings him into the house, or when his father pulls the hoodie off over his head. He is senseless as his father puts him into pajamas and tucks him into bed.

Damian just sighs in a contented dream when Bruce leans over his son's bed, kisses his forehead, and whispers, "Rest well, son."