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Damian had only seen it once - a month into being Robin.
Of course, Grayson wasn't trying to hide it. If he had, Damian would have easily caught his deception. Grayson could hardly keep something so big from Damian of all people. His League training alone would have alerted Damian that the man beside him was untrustworthy.
However, Grayson didn't consider it a secret. He treated it callously, uncaring.
(Late at night when Damian could be honest with himself, he found himself grateful. If he had thought Grayson were a liar -)
(Well.)
(Would he have stayed?)
Grayson had been stabbed. He'd left the blade in his thigh until they'd returned where Alfred had set upon him with all the grim competence of a man at war. Damian had followed his orders without a word, peeling away ripped fabric from the wound site when Grayson had flinched.
"My apologies, Master Richard -"
"Oh, no." Grayson said, a pained, idiotic smile sliding over his face. "It's not you. Careful where you put your hand, kiddo."
Damian had immediately shot a harsh look at him, hand tightening imperceptibly. "I know how to handle injuries, Grayson."
"Yeah, you do." Grayson winced once more. "But that's not what I'm talking about. That's where my soul mark used to be."
Damian startled, thoughts catching on used to be. He peeled the fabric further, eyes widening as he took in the edge of a burn shaped peculiarly like the curve of an S. His hand jerked away almost of its own volition rather than the societal and instinctual horror that came with -
Well.
(Damian had only ever seen one other person whose soul mark had been burned away. He had been a servant of his mother's, and he had tried to begin a coup against his grandfather. Unlike other rebellion leaders, though, he'd laid hands on his mother. His words had been vile enough that her red lips had turned sneering and disgusted when he'd been publicly disfigured.)
(It was a punishment of the highest decree.)
"Hold this." Alfred had snapped swiftly as blood had begun to bubble up more fiercely.
Damian had. He'd pushed away his dark thoughts and mentally scrubbed the burnt skin from his mind.
It had become a topic he did not think about, and as he began to respect Grayson more and more, he'd pushed the image away even harsher.
Then Damian had died and returned to a world without his Batman.
Damian had been so consumed by the empty seat at the table that he hadn't considered his own soulmate.
A mug hit the table harshly, the sound of sloshing liquid louder than it should have been. Damian glanced to his side, one eyebrow raised at Drake. His eyes were wide and locked on Damian, mouth gaping like a particularly annoying fish.
"Yes?" Damian said. "Is there something you'd like to say or are you going to stare at me like a buffoon all morning?"
"Your - You have a soulmate." Drake gaped.
Damian's eyebrows lifted. "Everyone does. Or did you somehow miss that in primary school, Drake?"
"Your soul mark - It's come in."
Damian's lips parted, and it was his turn to gape like a fish.
He had always heard that when a soul mark appeared, it stung like a touch of a god or the static of lightning striking too closely nearby. As such, he'd always expected that he'd know when his soul mark came in. After all, such powerful sensation could hardly be missed.
However, Damian had felt nothing.
He jolted out of his seat and rushed to the nearest mirror - a tall cabinet with glass shelves and knickknacks that he doubted his father cared about in the slightest. Past antique figures and bells was a colorful marking spreading across his neck and down below his collar. He swiftly undid his shirt and shoved away the material to stare.
It was a beautiful marking. It depicted a bird, small and red-breasted, with its wings high and large. Little claws were pointed at a white doe, her hooves raised to strike. All around them were twisting vines and flowers that bled into the lines of the animals. The colors were soft as if they had been airbrushed with the last strength of a great expert. He slid a finger along the line of feathers in the little robin.
There was a whistle behind him. "That's really colorful. They're not normally that vibrant."
Drake.
Swiftly, Damian's fingers began to hide bare skin once more. "Is yours not?"
"It's mostly black with touches of red."
"Perhaps my soul bond will be more powerful than yours."
Damian caught Drake rolling his eyes, and he ignored the light bit of relief that Drake had responded so well. Things had changed between the two. Drake no longer looked down his nose at Damian with that insufferable look in his eyes, and Damian no longer attempted to remove him from Batman's good graces be it by means of violence or otherwise.
"What color was Grayson's?"
Tim and Damian both stilled, somehow both startled by the words that slipped out of the younger's mouth. However, Damian squared his shoulders.
Tim pursed his lips. "I don't know. It was before my time."
Damian frowned, turning away.
"But I'm not the only one you can ask."
"That's real fuckin' bold." Jason Todd said, eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Even for you, shrimp. Real fuckin' bold."
"That's not an answer." Drake noted, pulling a Red Bull out of the refrigerator. Todd immediately ripped it out of his hand and replaced it with a small apple juice box, little plastic straw and all. "Hey!"
"Red Bull is for adults, not nosy brats."
"I am an adult!"
"Sure. Tell me that when you grow a few more inches."
"I'm -"
"Todd, I demand to know what Grayson's soulmark looked like!"
Both imbeciles paused, turning back to the youngest. Todd sat down the drink as Drake slinked into a kitchen chair and took a sip from his juice box. "Why do you wanna know?"
"Because." Damian stated simply.
"Wrong answer." Todd replied. He walked around them both, stalking towards his room without a hint of hesitation.
Damian clenched his fists. "Because Grayson is lonely."
The footsteps stopped.
Drake frowned. "Dick? You think Dick is lonely?"
"He shows all the signs."
"Bullshit." Todd's voice was a little snappish, but it wasn't angry. His face was pinched up somewhere between irritation and curiosity as he stomped back to the table. "Goldie has more friends than the population of Denmark."
"And how often do they come to his apartment?" Damian pointed out. "How often can he not find time for us, because he is too busy with his friends? How many times have you walked in on him having a phone conversation or the like with one of his many, many friends? How often -"
"You've made your point, Damian." Drake interrupted, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"What's knowin' what it looks like gonna do?" Todd asked.
"It will help us find his soul mate." Damian declared.
With that declaration, there was a thump by the window. All three boys were up in arms in a moment, and they spun around only to watch as Brown and Cain climbed in the window.
"See?" Brown said, pointing at them. "I told you they were up to no good!"
Damian sniffed. "Fatgirl -"
"How did you know we were here?" Drake frowned. Cain mimed a telephone by her ear and shook her hand. Drake frowned, pulling out his phone.
It showed a twenty-minute phone call with Stephanie.
Damian felt heat creep into his face. "You idiot -"
"You're lucky it was me you butt-dialed." Brown said. "Can you imagine what B would have done?"
Drake crossed his arms. "What are you gonna do?"
"Besides eat me out of house and home." Todd grumbled as Cain opened his refrigerator and began rooting around the contents.
"Help, obviously." Brown replied.
"You will?" Damian found himself frowning.
"Yes." Cain replied, returning to the table. She set a pudding cup on the surface, pausing for a moment as a melancholic look cast a shadow over her dark eyes. "He's sad. Lonely. A lot. We'll help."
"So everybody here thinks this is a good idea? And that it won't somehow blow up in our faces?" Todd demanded. When everyone looked at him expectantly, he groaned and dropped into a seat. "Look, if this goes badly, I reserve the right to say I told you so. Because I'm gonna tell you right now that this isn't gonna go the way you think."
"What's the big deal?" Brown asked, voice a little too light. "We all work together, find his soul mate, and baddabing baddaboom -"
"Oh, my god, Steph." Drake groaned.
"You're messing with Dick's life right now." Todd pressed. "Just think about that for a second, would ya?"
Damian frowned. He thought about the bright smiles and trustworthy, consistent line of Grayson's back that was always so strong when he had been his Batman, and he thought about the glance he'd stolen when his father had returned to Gotham and the cowl. Grayson's shoulders, just for a moment, had bowed. That strong spine had been bent in exhaustion.
(Though Grayson was the one that walked away, it was Damian that had abandoned him.)
"I am sure."
Todd frowned at him before popping open the Red Bull he'd taken from Drake and taking a swing. "I only saw it once, and even then, I only caught a glimpse since I walked in on him in the shower, and I didn't want to see that. It was pretty colorful - blues and purples and all that jazz, but I also remember a lot of black. I don't know if it was a dragon or something else, but there was something like that on the front of his thigh. That's all I saw."
"That's all?" Damian demanded, scowling.
Todd crossed his arms. "If you don't like it, go creep on Dick. I'm sure you can get a good look."
Drake sucked in a sharp breath, and Cain went completely still. Damian opened and closed his mouth.
Brown furrowed her eyebrows. "Wait. What just happened? What's wrong?"
Drake stared at her. "You don't - neither of you know?"
"What don't we know?" Todd snapped.
"Dick doesn't have a soul mark." Drake said slowly.
Brown's eyes went wide, but Todd barreled forward. "Of course, he's got a soul mark. They don't just go away."
"Jason . . ."
"Someone burnt it off." Damian said coldly.
The room went very, very quiet.
"Burnt?" Brown repeated.
"Someone better explain right fucking now." Todd snarled, raising from his seat so fast that his Red Bull spilled across the table. No one moved to clean it up or explain, so Todd slammed his hand on the table.
"Look, none of us were around." Drake finally said. "It was before I became Robin -"
"So then Barbara -"
Todd cut himself off before continuing, and no one pushed him to continue.
(It wouldn't be fair to bring Barbara into this.)
"Come on."
And they all followed.
"Alright. Get on with it." Donna Troy said, leaning against her wall as she surveyed all of them crushed into her rather small entertainment area. "I know you're not here just to visit me. What's wrong with Dick?"
Drake rubbed the back of his neck. "Nothing, really. Right now, at least."
The Amazon narrowed her eyes. "Uh-huh."
"Really. Dick isn't -"
Todd cut him off without a care. "We want to know what happened to his soul mark."
Her face hardened. "That seems like something to talk to Dick about."
"You think Dick's gonna talk to us about this?" Todd scowled, glaring at her as if she were leveling a weapon at him.
(By the look on her face, she wasn't far from it.)
"Well, would you look at the time?" Troy said coldly. "Don't let the door hit you on the way out."
Damian jolted to his feet. "Please."
She frowned at him. Whatever she was thinking was hidden behind a carefully blank stare. It was a look Damian had seen on his Batman's own face a handful of times when he was in a difficult position with too many people pulling him in different directions. Of course, Damian had always felt confident at his side, certain that no matter what, he was there fighting alongside his Batman.
Now, he and Grayson were opposed in her mind, even if Damian still felt himself beside his Batman.
"Please." Damian repeated. "We want to help him."
Her eyes dragged over them all, slowly. One by one, she stared as though their every secret were hidden in the stress lines stretching beneath their eyes. She stopped at Todd.
She approached him slowly. "What happens when you find out? What purpose does this information serve?"
"I'm not gonna kill whoever did it if that's what you're asking." Todd snapped.
She cracked a smile, but it was a bitter thing. "I didn't think you would."
"We want to find his soul mate." Steph jumped in.
Troy didn't move her gaze as she said "You really think you could?"
"Yes." Damian declared.
Drake grimaced. "We're going to try."
She breathed out slowly before finally turning to all of them. "Alright. I'll tell you, but there will be no questions. Got it?"
It was Cain that said in both a strong and gentle voice "Thank you."
Troy did not acknowledge the thanks, simply continuing on. "You've heard of Deathstroke the Terminator."
Damian caught Cain stiffening out of the corner of his eye, both Brown and Drake sending her concerned looks. However, none of them interrupted.
"At the time, we fought against and occasionally with him off and on. However, we didn't realize his interest in us was actually only his interest in Dick. For a period, he managed to get him under his thumb. How doesn't matter. Neither does how long." Troy shot Damian a harsh look when he opened his mouth, and he shut it, teeth bared. "If you want to know that, you ask Dick. All you need to know is that it wasn't Dick's fault. It was ours. It took us too long to get him back. When he came back, there was a lot missing - including his soul mark. Now, I trust you can find your own way out."
And she stalked away.
Drake leaned backwards into the couch. "How did we not know that he and Deathstroke had a history? Batman never would have -"
Brown frowned, eyebrows furrowed. "Batman would never what?"
"Batman Dick go undercover with Deathstroke -"
"You're joking, right?" Todd hissed. "Bruce would absolutely send Dick undercover knowing that. Hell, it probably gave him the idea!"
Cain scowled. "Unfair."
Before Todd could take out his anger on her and cause a huge fight, Damian pushed himself to his feet. "We are wasting time."
"Wasting time?" Drake stood and pointed at him. "You think we're wasting time?"
"Obviously."
"Look. We thought that finding out what happened might give us clues to whether or not Dick might know who his soulmate is or give us a hint, but it didn't. We knew it was a long shot." Drake said, voice just a little on the edge. "We don't have leads that are going to try up or disappear if we don't run out the door. We have a cold case, and cold cases can take years to solve. Face it. We have to find a lead before we run off."
"Do not speak to me like I am a child." Damian hissed. "I understand what a cold case is. This is simply not one."
"Oh, yeah? What's the lead?" Drake crossed his arms.
"Deathstroke the Terminator." Damian stated. "Or more precisely, the hideout he held Grayson in."
Drake's eyes widened.
Drake, though irritating, was adequate enough to find the location of Deathstroke's old hideout in the Titan's database. Legally now a Justice League owned property rather than a Mercenary's lair, they easily found both the location and the entrance. The whole place felt like an abandoned industrial site, broken lights and iron making the place feel eerie and almost haunted.
Damian stepped over a broken arrow when Brown called "Here!"
A computer.
Drake descended on it like a vulture ready for its carcass.
"Hurry up, Replacement." Todd called. "Feels like we're being watched."
"For real." Brown agreed, kneeling to look at what looked like ash across the concrete floor.
"Tt."
They silently kept guard as the tap, tap, tapping kept going and going and going. The sound started to lull Damian, eyes drooping despite the early hour. He shook off the feeling roughly, hiding an undignified yawn. He nearly stumbled on his feet before it hit him - The room was silent. He spun to stare at the screen -
Drake was just sitting there, and spread across the screen . . .
It was a spread, Grayson's thigh pictured from many angles showing off the kind of artistry that only a soul mark could bestow. Todd had been correct. A twisting, long dragon made of the night sky swirled through a splash of black and grays, but dancing across and behind it were rainbow birds, feathers rich and shining in a multitude of colors that clashed and played in ways that didn't make logical sense yet lifted the heart. It was rich and beautiful, pure joy and life somehow mixed with darkness.
And Deathstroke the Terminator had destroyed it.
Damian stumbled forwards before glancing at Drake. His body was lax, laid against the chair as if he were asleep.
Damian's eyes widened as he stared around. Everyone except Todd was on the ground, his helmet protecting him from the -
Damian hit the ground.
Damian felt something jostle him, a cry.
He groaned and sunk back into darkness.
". . . helmet is cracked, it's only a matter of . . ."
". . . gonna fuckin' - fuck . . . Nightwing . . ."
". . . fear. I'll call him for you."
There was a bright light in Damian's eye, and he flinched backwards with a groan.
"See? Alive, little bird."
"Are they all . . . and unhurt?"
". . . minimal damage . . ."
Damian tried to open his eyes once more, but they felt glued shut, resistant to any movement. All he could make out was a figure standing in front of him - a (comforting figure).
". . . know what I want."
The sound of something heavy though soft hit the ground, and Damian found his mind drifting to canvas and thick fabric bundles. It was a warm thought for how cold his body was.
"That's what you get. Be grateful . . . need money upfront to handle . . . vigilantes, and you didn't prepare for . . ."
"No. I did not. However, opportunities are . . . What kind of a man . . ."
"Take the money, Slade."
"Very well." the oily voice agreed. "I'll see you soon, little . . ."
And the darkness consumed him.
It had been a week since Nightwing had apparently paid their ransom after the group had triggered one of the compound's failsafes and Deathstroke the Terminator had taken them hostage.
And deleted the pictures.
Damian had been determined to continue the search.
Even without the others.
Even against the Batman's wishes.
"You told father!" Damian demanded.
"What did you expect me to do?" Drake said, not looking up from his phone. "Lie?"
"You're a traitor." Damian hissed.
Unexpectedly, Drake threw down his phone. "What do you want from me? I had to tell Batman. I had to. He locked down the hideout, and I don't have access to the computer, because it was on a closed circuit, but if we want to retrieve the pictures - I had to. I had to."
Damian paused. "You are right. I . . . apologize."
Drake stared at him. Then he sucked in a breath. "No. I'm sorry. We spent a lot of time arguing instead of focusing on what matters."
He turned to stare down the hall, and Damian's eyes followed.
Grayson smiled at them from down the way.
"How did you know where we were?" Damian couldn't help but ask.
"I got a call."
"From Deathstroke?" Damian exclaimed.
"Him, too." Grayson agreed, far too calm for that statement. "But Donna is who I meant. It wasn't hard to figure out your next steps from there. But I have to ask, Dami. What were you thinking?"
Damian swallowed. "I wanted you happy."
The admission, though painful to let out, made Grayson's blue eyes soften. He set heavy, solid hands on his shoulders. "I am happy. I'm especially happy when you're safe."
"I failed you." Damian said.
"You've never failed me." Grayson refuted.
"But I couldn't find your soulmate. I couldn't even stop Deathstroke from deleting the pictures of your soul mark."
"Damian, I asked him to delete the pictures."
Damian jerked out of Grayson's hold. "Why would you do that?"
"I don't need a soul mark to be happy or whole."
"But you are lonely." Damian frowned.
"Lonely?" Grayson asked, gentle smile on his face. "No, I'm not lonely. See, I have Tim and Jason, Steph, and Cass! I don't need a soulmate. Not when I've got you, Dami."
"Wouldn't a soulmate make you happier?" Damian asked slowly.
"Maybe." Grayson said slowly. "But a soulmate can't make you content or at ease or like yourself. You have to find that within yourself. And I am happy. I owe a lot of that to you."
(Damian wanted to believe him - partially did believe him.)
(But he couldn't stand the thought of Dick alone in that apartment when they used to have the penthouse, warm and somehow so much less lonely than the manor - the apartment -)
"I won't stop. I will help you." Damian declared.
Grayson let out an amused breath, smile so bright it was blinding. "I don't expect anything less. If you want to do it, okay."
Damian scowled at the floor. "Even without those photos -"
"Dami, do you really think the only one with photos of my soul mark was Deathstroke the Terminator?"
Damian's lips parted silently. Then he said "Of course not!"
"You can use my photos, and whatever you want to know, I'll tell you. Just promise me one thing."
Damian looked up at him, eyes wide. "What?"
"That from now on, you'll be careful." Grayson said. "If I lost you because of this, I'd be beside myself."
"Like Batman without a Robin?"
"Even worse." Grayson said. "Like Dick Grayson without Damian Wayne."
When Grayson pulled him into a hug, Damian couldn't help melting into it.