Damian watched as his brother ran around the Theater room, grabbing blankets and handing him a numerous amount of treats, all of which were greasy looking to some amount. The did, however, look appealing to Damian, which was something he was surprised about. Surely there was no way that a food that looked so. . . irrevocably stomach-churning could smell so alluring. Instead of eating it, he sat it along his seat's arm, deciding to settle in before tasting such suspicious food.
When Grayson finally decided to sit down, he looked not in the least bit tired, though his excitement was still clear in his eyes as he forced a tangle of covers onto his chair and leaned it back. He, too, then grabbed some of his food, but unlike Damian, he started shoving it into his mouth hastily.
When he looked over at Damian, he shot him a look. Damian who knew exactly what sort of trouble was to be caused by not listening to Grayson, warily picked up the bowl of popcorn, of which was seasoned with caramel. Damian slowly picked up a single piece of popcorn and let it slip into his mouth.
After a moment, he pushed another in, letting a content noise flow from his mouth, putting a grin on his brother's face. Satisfied, Grayson turned away from him and focused instead on the television as it started to roll the first film.
"You only care for sugary things," Damian observed suddenly, his voice low but loud enough to carry over to Grayson, who immediately glared at him.
Grayson took a look at the popcorn and shoved more into his mouth, "I have no clue what you're talking about."
He smiled at Damian, turning back toward the movie. The lights were off, so it was not as dirty way to see his face through the darkness, but the light from the television did well to illuminate the room.
"Do you have any idea when father might return?" Damian asked reluctantly, his fingers stilling over the popcorn in his bowl, his body growing rigid as he watched Grayson's reaction.
His brother slowly looked back at him, his eyebrows drawing a look of concern, and if he looked closely, disappointment, though Damian knew this was not directed at him. His intuition, if nothing else, was telling him so.
Damian contained himself, his brother's hesitancy to open up the subject giving him an undesirable surge of annoyance. Not long after, shame followed. His father was not talking to him, but he must have sent something to Grayson; he was the more trustworthy son, after all.
He had failed his father a many series of times. Even now, as he improved, he continued to fail him. If he was not so prone to failure when it came to his father's orders, he might have had a chance at joining his father on his mission. His father would have to be alone, he could have someone who he could trust. It would be amazing to have that happen, for his father to willingly chose him. The first time they had ever met, Damian had been forced into his own father's hands, giving him not choice but to take him in.
"No," his brother admitted, his voice smoothly controlled, though only just, "he hasn't answered any of the messages we've sent. We don't think he intends to either."
This made Damian frown, his father thought it was a piority to keep in contact with other members of the family during missions. If something went wrong, they needed to know was soon as possible as time wa sus half of the essence. If someone missed a scheduled call or something of the sort, skepticism would start to arise.
"We're working on it," Grayson promised, taking in Damian's reaction.
Damian turned back to the movie, his eyebrows furrowed, though he was not nervous or tense. He was simply in deep thought.
"I know," Damian agreed, "you care of father just like I. You are trustworthy."
Grayson smiled fondly, his eyes softening at Damian's words. He looked at the covers Damian was nestled in and tucked them under him a bit more, fretting over him for but a moment.
"Are you worried?" Damian wondered, his voice spurring into action all on its own command.
Grayson looked down thoughtfully, his gaze deep and calculating. He looked back up and smiled sheepishly, "Yes, just a tad."
"I am sure father is fine," Damian said, his heart filling with suspicion despite his words. He hoped his father was fine, but sometimes you simply got unlucky. His father had done something like this before though, so ur was not as far-fetched as some conclusions that had brought to themselves before,
"Yeah, probably," Grayson agreed, his tone dismissive, his hand waving as if to wave off the thought, "but it's not him I'm worried about."
Grayson smiled broadly before tuning back to the movie, leaving Damian to his thoughts, of which he captured and accessed quickly. Once he had, he responded, "You do not need to worry about me, I am quite capable."
Grayson laughed. "I know," his expression sobered, "but I still can't help it."
"Worry of father," he imputed, a muscle in his own mouths twitching.
"How contradicting!" Grayson teased unrelentlessly, his smile growing.
"Do you not worry of father at all?" Damian questioned after a moment of silence.
"I do," his brother responded without hesitation, pausing before carefully continuing, "but he's made it harder for me to care. He does what he wishes no matter what changes need to be made."
"He has a flaw like anyone," Grayson told him reluctantly, a frown on his face, "but it gets in the way more and more."
They both turned toward the movie, deciding with talking that it would be best to leave it at that. Damian did not want to talk about such depressing things at the moment, and if Grayson's expression told him absolutely anything, it was that he felt the same way.
Damian was happy when the movie ended a few hours later, his eyes were growing tired despite his usual control of his body's actions. He was sleepy, very much so. The lulling silence of the room did not help his attempts to stay awake in the least.
His brother looked over at him and smiled, his eyebrows lifting with a light surprise. Damian paid no mind, he could not process such an action with the condition he was in. Grayson grabbed the mountain of blankets off of Damian and readjusted them, tucking them underneath him with great care.
"You comfy? Grayson questioned, amusement clear in his voice. Damian's eyes had unconsciously drifted closed, but he could imagine the twinkle in his brother's eyes as he looked at him cheekily.
"Cease your teasing at once," he whispered in response, his voice was low and held a great lack of the usual amount of venom it contained.
Damian opened one eye just in time to see Grayson salute to him with a grand ear-to-ear grin. "Right away."
Damian scowled faintly, his muscles relaxing because of his need for sleep. "Must you be so dramatic at such a late time in the day?"
"Of course," Grayson responded immediately, no hesitation in his voice, "it would be a lot more boring around here otherwise."
"Yes, I suppose so," Damian concurred dryly, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
It grew silent again, the television was off by now, but it was light enough in the room for him to see once his eyes adjusted to the light. It seemed they would both be sleeping in the Theater room. He did not dare think of how Alfred would react.
By now, Damian's thoughts were half-finished and only faintly connected. His thoughts were also sluggish. ". . . Richard, thank you. . ,"
"For what?" He chuckled, his voice lower than before.
"For trusting. . . me," Damian told him honestly, "It is a difficult task for even some of our family."
Grayson ruffled Damian's hair in response. There was no verbal reply needed. Damian was already asleep anyway, Grayson could tell by his snore pattern. Damian had already been half-asleep during the conversation they had.
So with the movie off and Damian asleep, he finally let himself attempt to sleep. He closed his eyes and sank into the soft recliner, it was not the most confiable position, but the comfy fabric made up for it.
———
Damian woke up to his own accord. He woke up comfortable and most surprisingly, very well rested, which was rare for him to come by, especially considering his sporadic sleep schedule. Ah, he remembered softly, it helps when you have not gone leaping around the roofs of buildings the night prior.
He and Grayson had watched movies and enjoyed a great arrangement of snacks, all of which he enjoyed immensely. He would be very slow to ever hint to admitting that, though. He would never be able to live it down—much less be able to bear listening to his other brother's feasting him about the fact.
He sat up and situated himself out of his recliner, a mountain of covers tumbling to the floor as he did so, sending a great amount of noise into the otherwise quiet room. Damian made his way out of the Theater room and into the kitchen. If for some reason he ever failed to recall his way around the manor, he knew he could rely on making his way to at least one recognizable area: the kitchen; he could guide himself around there purely by smell.
When he finally made his way to the kitchen, where he could see Alfred contently making food despite the time of morning, he found that the smell of coffee did not fill the air, which was very odd. His third eldest brother normally had a strict schedule in the morning of inhaling at least one cup of a caffeine filled coffee. He walked to the dining room to find that his brother's seat was, in fact, empty. There was no sign of him having been at the manor at all this morning, which suggested he slept at Wayne Enterprises.
It would not be unlikely, he thought realistically, as much as he wished his brother would prove to be more keen towards heathlier habits, he hardly ever listened to anyone worries on staying up late. Drake was definitely an insomniac; he stayed awake for well over twenty-four hours and suffered from intense bouts of sleep because of it.
His father's sudden departure was probably leaving its own marks on Drake already. He was more likely to drive himself into his own work than express how he felt about sensitive matters. He was also more than likely trying to adjust to the sudden increase in workload. It was unfair for him to have to adjust so quickly, and he knew many around him would agree. Damian decided it best to mention it to Grayson or Alfred before his problem created a few nasty outcomes.
Grayson was the best one with understanding emotions and sorting them out. Their father was by far the worst, he resembled something closer to a constipated raisin when he was forced to even think about his feelings—much less utter an actual word about them. Grayson had helped Damian sort through unnecessary guilt and other problems beforehand, too. He knew what he was doing with that. Drake was more than likely to be a mess when he finally was forced to recognize his feelings, he felt it would be a breach of privacy to deal with that.
It was unfortunate, their current circumstances. Drake was the person many went to when they needed information on certain areas of a case. Damian wanted to go over what Drake might have found sense the random people entered the cave unannounced. It had not been that long ago, but with such a major event, there was no doubt it was something that was taking up Drake's many hours of lucidness. He probably had stayed up a few days because of it as well.
Damian would have to catch him at a different time. Despite their unstable relationship, Drake was reliable when it came to cases. It would be good to bring a magic expert onto the case. That would only be of Drake found nothing, Damian had no interest in associating with that man otherwise.
His thoughts turned to Titus, who was patiently waiting for him to put a leash on him. His tail was wagging with great intensity, and he looked ready to leap into the air. Still, because he was an obedient dog, he waited. Damian fastened the leach onto Titus's full body harness with practiced ease. He then slowly opened the front door, making his way to the car, where Alfred was waiting for the two of them.
Alfred had a small and pleasant smile on his face when Damian reached him, though he was not looking in Damian's direction at all, rather his eyes were on the road in front of them. Titus sat straight in the seat, his tail settling just the smallest degree.
The girl Dupain-Cheng would most likely already be there. He would take a quick stroll around the park with Titus and then try to finish the project. Damian was quite satisfied with his reasons that justified the way Dupain-Cheng's ability to fight, but he still needed to try to get information. If he could have something more certain, then he could be more certain of her innocence—or lack of danger.
He would take into account her personal space and do his best to not ask for private questions, as she had put up with his irritable mood without complain many times. She had not snapped at him, which suprised him, it made him feel the slightest degree more confortable in her presence, which only made him more determined to get information from her.
The park was not far away, and the traffic was smoother than usual, which Damian was surprised by. It took them half the time it usually did to get there. Titus did not seem to mind at all.
"See you later, Master Damian," Alfred told him in farewell, his smile still on his face.
Damian eyed his watch for a moment, if his clock was correct, which he knew it was, and Dupain-Cheng did not come late, he had ten to fifteen minutes to walk Titus before it was time for them to officially meet up.
He spotted her fifteen minutes later, well into his walk with Titus, of whom walked right beside him with his tail wagging intensely. She was sitting on an incoming bench; she saw him. She was staring at them with a small smile on her face. When she saw he was looking at her, she raised her hand in a awkward attempt at a wave—at least, this was what Damian was forced to assume. She smiled at him in greeting as well before turning her gaze to Titus, who seemed to walk straighter once he realized someone was watching him. At the sight of Titus, her eyes seemed to brighten, and a large and bright smile grew over her face.
When they finally reached her, Titus leaned toward her eagerly, his tail now wagging aggressively, wacking into Damian's legs. Damian's interest piqued at this. Titus was an exceptional judge in character and normally grew angst around anyone who was untrustworthy. He looked comfortable around Dupain-Cheng, which only solidified the feelings that he had naturally been too suspicious of her character.
"He's your dog?" Her eyes were still on Titus, a large, stunning grin on her face. "He's huge!"
Damian looked at Titus; it was true, he was a large breed, there was no denying that; however, Titus was slightly smaller than the usual Great Dane. Damian felt like he and Titus had this in common.
"He is mine. I have had him for many years now." Damian replied neutrally, though he enjoyed to talk about animals to any person who was willing to listen. "He seems to like you."
"You think so?" The smile grew softer, and a fond look appeared in her eyes, "I've always loved animals."
"Yes, Titus makes it known when he dislikes someone," he paused. He remembered his intention to make an effort, just like his brother had suggested. "Do you own an animal? I recall seeing you at the Veterinarian Clinic."
"Yeah! At least, I think," she rambled for a moment before pausing, "that was a stray kitten I found not too long ago, we were supposed to get it checked out that day."
"My aunt and uncle will probably end up keeping it as long as I live in the bakery," she mumbled out glumly.
"You live in a bakery?" Damian questioned, his curiosity pushing the question out of him before he realized.
"Yeah, my parents are both bakers, and a year or so before they had me they opened their own bakery," Dupain-Cheng explained to him in a rush.
He had only seen a few others in his lifetime that talked so fast, as if they had to hurry to get all the information they wanted to out. He had never met someone who lived in a bakery, which was not surprising, especially since he lived in Gotham.
"You're parents do not allow animals?" He wondered allowed; it was logical, considering the amount of shedding any animal with fur had.
"My papa loves animals," she admitted, "but there's certain restrictions when you live in a bakery, you have to live a cleaner life."
They sat in silence for a moment. Hesitantly, Dupain-Cheng reached out to pet Titus, who quickly accepted all the attention he could.
"Did you pick his name? It's lovely," she asked him randomly, smiling like always, it seemed.
He had not bothered to pay attention to things like that when he searched her for signs of dangerous or nefarious ploys. He could see now that she was a very bubbly person. She also seemed genuinely interested in Titus, which made Damian's mood lighten to a great degree.
Dupain-Cheng was looking at Titus intently; her eyes looking at his physique, his obviously Great Dane features, and his nose.
"He's a . . a," she paused, her eyes meeting his," a Great Dane, right?"
"Yes," Damian replied. She must have looked derisively into dogs before to recognize his species from his build and such. That or she had seen one before.
"We should probably get started," she said after a moment.
She continued to pet Titus, who was panting. She gave him a small smile before looking up at Damian again.
She seemed to love animals as much as Damian, which was something that surprised him. Not many people he knew shared the same love for animals that he did.
Damian had an urge to tell her about his cow, but then remembered that they did need to finish their project, and all of his attention shifted to that.
Soon enough, they were sat down at a picnic table and working intently. Titus sat beside Damian with his leash tied to a support pole of the picnic table, laying down in the shade, content.
"I think that if we use another example—I know we have enough," Dupain-Cheng proposed as they penciled down some final revisions before they would finish the final product, "but adding another would tie it together better, and we could base the conclusion partially on that."
It was a good idea. One that would most likely get them some extra credit because of their efforts. "That would be beneficial."
"Before we do that, can we take a break?" She looked away as she asked this, which made Damian confused. She was anxious of something.
"Titus is getting slightly angsty, anyway," he agreed carefully.
That much was true, Titus had woken up and wanted to run around. Dupain-Cheng started to pet Titus, laughing when he laid down and rolled over. Damian rolled his eyes at the dramatic behavior.
Damian unclipped the leach from Titus, grabbing a ball from his bag. Titus was a highly achieved player of tag. He threw the ball lightly; Titus shot after it immediately. In a flash, the ball lay at his feet, slightly slobbery.
Beside them, Dupain-Cheng sat, muttering under her breath. Damian was certain now that it was not him that was bothering her.
"Would you like to play with Titus?" Damian asked, snapping her from her thoughts.
Automatically, a smile grew on her lips, though her eyes remained shadowed. She grabbed the ball and ran, instead of throwing it like Damian did, she held it up for Titus to wrestle out of her hand. She was fast and watching her tiny figure wrestle with Titus was amusing.
Damian watched this all. Titus was enjoying himself. Dupain-Cheng also seemed to be enjoying Titus's presence. They grew farther and farther away, racing at farther and farther distances.
Damian was surprised to admit that he was enjoying himself. It seemed he had been making their time together difficult. Dupain-Cheng like a nice person. Many people were closed off in Gotham, unwilling to put themselves forward in the first place. That was because they realized this was a form of trust. Damian wondered if Dupain-Cheng realized what sort of faith she was putting into him.
He always saw her smiling, rarely did he see her frown. He would advise her to not be so open to so many people in Gotham. Hopefully she already knew this.
Damian still did not trust her. No matter how much good her saw in her, he could not help but recall all of her special skills, one of which included rooftop jumping. There had to be an answer for that, and Damian wanted to find that answer.
Damian could tell though, he was very sure, that Dupain-Cheng was not a villain.
Damian was very well aware of the sudden poof of smoke and appearance of masked people. In a moment, Dupain-Cheng and Titus were out of view, and worry filled him. Dupain-Cheng may not be a villain, but there were other ones to worry about.