I JUST WANT THE TAGS IN THESE FUCKING BOOKS TO STAY UGH
you know the drill kiddos, if it's your request drop your name - this was requested by no1importaant!!
TW: SUICIDAL THEMES
https://sossilenceofsuicide.org/?gclid=Cj0KCQjw38-DBhDpARIsADJ3kjn2gCMdx_ygHYr5QLZ2-e8R-x2vJeB3JUYGBJkUzP2E1XTPkHRmGMAaAnhkEALw_wcB
https://suicideprevention.ca/
https://www.inclusivetherapists.com/
It felt like forever since Damian saw his older brother. The last time he saw Dick was when they went out for ice cream together and spent the entire day doing whatever he wanted. It was the best day ever in his books. At the end of the day, Dick wrote him a cheque and told him never to tell anyone about it. He was told to cash it in when he wanted out of the Manor. Although he told him that the Manor was his home, Dick assured him that one day he might outgrow the place. He didn't quite understand it but he knew that many of the residents had since moved on so he didn't question it any further than his brother being kind to him. His brother always was kind to him with infinite patience. When they got back to Wayne Manor, Dick said he had to go work on a case and that he might not be back for a while.
"Where are you going?" Dick smiled at the question and ran his fingers through the younger's hair.
"That's top secret, Dami," he replied. He set his hand on the young teen's shoulder and knelt down. He had a serious look about him as he did. "I need you to listen to me for a moment." Damian nodded, confused but willing to go along with whatever was happening. "I love you a lot. I'm never going to stop loving you even when I'm gone. You don't need to say you love me back, I know it's hard for you. Please remember this, whatever happens, it's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault."
"I understand Grayson." The acrobat smiled and pulled him in for a hug, squeezing him for a moment.
"You're going to grow up into someone so wonderful, I just know it. You'll make me so proud."
Dick had gotten in the car after that and, after waving goodbye, he drove away. That was the last time they spoke. He waited by the door, kept his phone close and kept an eye out for the older but there was nothing. He understood that it could be an undercover mission but this felt like a little much. It'd been months and he hadn't had any updates. Worried, he decided to bring it up the next time they were all together.
"When's Grayson coming back? He's taking far too long," Damian complained. The dinner table went silent. You could hear a pin drop it was that silent. He glanced around in confusion. He'd only asked the question in passing. Why were they so shocked? From his side of things, it'd been radio silence for a while now. Had they heard differently?
"Damian, Dick died," Bruce said unsurely as though this was an obvious fact and he didn't understand why he'd thought any different. The younger furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. Oh, this must've been a secret mission hence why nobody was talking about it.
"No, he didn't. He went on a mission and said he wouldn't be back for a while. I would know if he died."
"Don't you remember? He was fighting Riddler? We found the journal. You hid in your room for weeks," Jason offered, hoping it would jog his memory. When it didn't, the family glanced at each other with concern. Bruce put a hand on his son's shoulder and looked at him rather seriously.
"You nearly killed Riddler over it. You went to the funeral."
Riddler didn't want to kill Nightwing. The game was supposed to end on the roof and they'd have their usual tussle then he'd be put in Arkham. He'd made the clues exceptionally easy to follow just so he could go back inside and break some people out. It was that simple. Yet when the fighting began, he realised he had the upper hand. He never had the upper hand. That's not how it was supposed to happen. Nightwing didn't dodge, he just took the hits and made misplaced punches. At one point, Riddler was sure that he'd thrown his tazor batons rather than them being knocked out of his hands. Their fighting somehow ended up with Nightwing retreating backwards and hitting the edge of the roof. Riddler reached out to pull him away but he deliberately tipped back and toppled over the edge. The villain rushed forwards and only just managed to catch his hand but Nightwing didn't make any attempt to pull himself back over. "Let go," he told the villain simply.
"What? No! God, no!" Riddler replied rather hysterically. "Are you insane?" The acrobat chuckled lowly.
"No. Just tired." He stared at the young man. Yes they were on opposite sides and yes there may have been a few attempts to kill him but he'd watched the man grow up. A spritely child hero turned badass vigilante. Why now, after all these years, would he allow the man to die?
"Pull yourself up," Riddler demanded. This wasn't the plan. Why wasn't he following the plan? Why was he throwing this all away to die by his hand? Then he thought about what he'd said. He was tired. Riddler's eyes widened. "Nightwing, no."
"You can take all the glory, Ed."
"No, no this isn't right! It's not my kill, you've- Just get up here!" Nightwing shook his head and grabbed his forearm. He pressed his thumb down hard on a nerve, forcing the villain's hand open. He slipped through his fingers and Riddler let out a yell as he watched him fall. All the while, there was a watery smile on the hero's face. His eyes slipped closed.
CRACK
"You killed him," Robin bit out. The police apprehended Riddler and when they saw the body of Nightwing, they called Batman and Robin in. They allowed them a room with Riddler with no security. Anything that happened in the room would strictly be off the book. Whatever scene they walked in on, they would turn a blind eye. Who knew corruption could offer some consolation? Robin had gone in first, punching the Riddler so hard that the first knock to the head had almost made him pass out.
"I didn't kill him!" Riddler shouted. There was a tremble in his voice that the protege decided to ignore.
"His damn body says otherwise!"
"Please, look at the CCTV. I swear I tried to pull him back up but he wouldn't let me! He-he said he was tired."
"Shut up!" the boy roared, landing another hard blow.
"Look at my clues! They were easy!" Batman froze. The clues were easy. Too easy. They were meant to be solved. He was meant to be found on that rooftop. He was meant to be arrested there and then.
"He was tired," he whispered.
"He's gone!" Robin yelled. He glared at his mentor for not joining in. He'd just lost his son, why wasn't he beating the man to near death? "That bastard killed Richard! He's dead and you're not doing anything!" Batman didn't respond. He left the room after that and Robin continued on with his assault. Riddler was covered in his own blood by the end of it, clinging on to the little life he had and Robin didn't feel an inch of remorse as paramedics rushed to help him.
They found the journal two days later. It'd been stuffed at the back of the closet but they'd found it. Inside, they found out that Riddler was telling the truth and that the CCTV hadn't misrepresented what happened. Dick had written out his plan for that night. From the moment he caught wind of something happening with Riddler, he'd started planning how the fight would end. He would die. No matter what happened, he made sure he was going to die. It'd all been a suicide mission. The saddest part was that he'd planned this before but they'd kept saving him.
Damian broke down. He locked himself in his room and wouldn't come out. He stayed in there for weeks, only ever opening the door to take food and water or to let in Alfred the cat. Crying filled the halls at night and during the day his room was silent. Then the funeral happened. Something broke in him. The day after, he was completely fine like nothing had ever happened. He got confused when he saw so many people were upset and didn't understand why his phone was blowing up with sympathy.
Damian was shell shocked. He stared at his father, disbelieving at first before he felt a sick feeling settle in his stomach. Dick was dead. Dick killed himself and tried to cover it up as murder to save them because it hurt so much less to think he'd died by a villain's hand than intentionally. Yet they found the journal and they discovered why it happened. Damian remembered now. He remembered the crushing guilt of not recognising the signs because he knew them. He knew that people who planned to end their lives gave away gifts, they said foreboding things, they had these moments of being "happy" and they tied up loose ends.
"Please remember this, whatever happens, it's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault."
He should've recognised it. When he saw that grave, he was so mad but he didn't understand why. Dick was so kind to him. He did so much for him. That time Damian was his Robin was amazing. That's why it annoyed him so much that he could've saved himself and didn't. The grappling hook was found on him. Riddler had his hand. Yet he made sure he fell. Damian knew he shouldn't feel mad at Dick because he was obviously struggling and drowned before he could see the lifeboat. Maybe the lifeboat had drifted too far. Perhaps there was no lifeboat coming. He remembered going back to his room and sitting there for hours then it just stopped. Dick wasn't dead to him anymore. How could his brain convince him that Dick wasn't dead anymore? "Damian, take a deep breath son. It's okay," Bruce told him. His eyes snapped back into focus and he realised there were tears running down his face.
"I forgot. Father, how could I forget? I-I cared!" The older pulled him in close and rubbed circles on his back to soothe his cries.
"Shh now. It's gonna be alright."
Yeah, it will be alright. Damian knew how to fix this. He just needed a little trip.