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Damian groaned as his stomach turned itself inside out yet again. There was sweat dripping down his forehead and it blinded him momentarily as he retched once more, his stomach now empty. There was a knocking outside his door that he ignored in favor of leaning over the toilet bowl and pressing his head to the cool porcelain. It didn’t do much to relieve him as all he could think about were the thousands of bacteria that would likely aggravate his current state.
“Damian! Please open up!” Grayson called pounding on the door again. The noise only served to increase the pain in his head and Damian groaned in an answer. He hoped that would be enough to pacify the man outside, but alas he continued to knock on the door.
Perhaps, he thought that Damian had passed out. Damian wondered if he himself had passed out, but then Richard spoke again. This time though, there was also another voice in the background.
Pennyworth, his mind helpfully supplied him. A soft clinking of metal, like a key ring, and then the lock tumblers in the door were clicking and Grayson entered followed closely by Pennyworth.
“Oh Damian,” Richard murmured, no small amount of stress in his voice. “Come on, let’s get you into bed hmm.”
Damian didn’t think he would be able to pick his head, let alone walk, without passing out. So, he hugged the base of the toilet and moaned in pain as his vision swam again.
Richard was whispering nonsense as he reached down and got his arms around Damian’s body. Damian felt himself being lifted into the air, his head supported by one of Richard’s large palms. There was a continuous soothing babble in his ears.
When he was laid down onto his bed, Damian couldn’t keep his eyes open and he fell asleep to the sound of Pennyworth and Richard’s fretful whispers, a warm hand stroking his hair, and a gentle kiss to Damian’s forehead.
Damian awoke with a gasp. He lurched out of bed, still reeling from his nightmare, but the moment he moved his vision went black and was forced to lay himself back in bed. At the foot of his bed, in a small armchair that had not been there before he fell asleep was Richard. He had a paperback open in his lap, but all his attention was firmly on Damian.
“Hey there,” Dick smiled at him, putting the book down to focus on Damian. His eyes were crinkled in the corner, but they did not hide the bags pressed deep under his eyes. “Let’s take it easy now, huh. You’ve had a pretty tiring day.”
Damian opened his mouth to retort, but his tongue lay heavy and drier than the Sahara. (Damian knew, he’d been there after all.)
Richard got up out of his seat and brought a glass of water to his lips. Damian tried to show that he didn’t need any help, but Richard ignored him. With one hand, he helped hold Damian up enough to swallow and with the other he tipped the glass so that Damian could slowly drink it.
When Damian indicated he was done, Richard helped prop him upright surrounded by a mass of pillows, and then moved to sit at the end of the bed. His hands were wringing themselves in his laps.
Damian didn’t think Richard would be a hand wringer, especially over Damian. Perhaps over Todd or that alien girlfriend of his, but not Damian.
“Alfred’s currently throwing out all the food. He thinks it might’ve been food poisoning.” Richard offered in the silence. His voice was steady in a forced way.
Damian could hear the opening left for him in the conversation, but he wasn’t sure he could say anything without throwing up at the moment. Instead, he just raised an eyebrow, hoping it would convey his question without him having to ask.
Richard must’ve understood, because he continued on. “I found this in your room earlier.” There was a moment of sharp betrayal at the thought that Richard, who’d advocated for privacy so heavily, had gone through his things when Damian had been unconscious.
But, then he held up a small, empty vial, and Damian understood the worry. The wax seal was broken, but the label on top was still legible. Even though it was in League Arabic, Damian knew Richard had understood.
Poison, extracted from a deadly breed of snakes from the area where Damian grew up. He remembered his mother warning him against poking the underbrush too much lest a snake come out and bite him from disturbing their home.
The snake itself wasn’t the dangerous part; it was the venom in his fangs that could kill a man faster than they could move.
But now sitting in front of Richard, empty vial in hand, expression switching between heartbroken and terrified, Damian wasn’t sure which was more dangerous: the snake or the venom.
Richard opened his mouth, no doubt to begin some sort of speech or lord knew what, but when he looked at Damian, his expression broke and firmly settled on heartbroken. “Damian-” His voice cracked, “I don’t know-” A pause. “I don’t know what I would do without you. Please, Damian, we’ll get you help. Whatever you need, we’ll make it happen, just please-” And now Richard was crying, there were tears rolling down his face, red splotches appearing on his nose and cheeks as he continued to cry.
Damian realized, with a dawning horror, that Richard was very much mistaken in what he believed was currently happening. He again opened his mouth to try and rectify the issue, to try and fix what was happening, or just stop Richard from crying.
In the back of Damian’s head there was a voice that was questioning why Richard would be crying over the thought of him dying , but he forced it aside as he attempted to talk. His first words were soft and barely there. But Richard caught the movement, and waved Damian off.
“No, no.” His voice was rough, but from crying, not from vomiting as Damian’s was. “It’s ok, I don’t want you to feel compelled,” He made a soft noise, grabbed a tissue, and blew loudly into it. Damian winced in sympathy.
The overwhelming show of emotion was quite a bit surprising if he was honest, especially at his expense? Damian wondered if this was a hallucination and he was still passed out in bed.
After another moment of Richard wiping his eyes, he gathered himself. “Look Damian, we both know what happened here. And I want to apologize-” As Richard was speaking, Damian violently shook his head. The movement caused his vision to darken once more, but he pushed through it.
Richard stopped speaking, and looked at Damian. “You don’t want me to apologize?”
Damian shook his head in a yes fashion. Then he moved his hands in a way to say go back.
“We both know-” Damian shook his head no, “ We both don’t know?” When Damian didn’t make any indication, Richard continued. “We both don’t know what happened here. And, you don’t want me to apologize.”
Damian nodded yes, firmly. Richard looked at him, hard. “Ok then why don’t you tell me what happened here?” Richard glanced around the room, presumably searching for something. Then his eyes settled on the desk in the corner of Damian’s room, went over to it, picked up a random notebook and pen.
He gave the items to Damian, turned to the last page in the notebook, and pointed at it. “Tell me everything.”
The first word Damian wrote down was Mithridatism. When he turned the page around to Richard, his expression went stony, and then soft.
“oh,” It was a very small oh, one Damian did not like the sound of as he felt it bordered too close to pity.
When he felt Richard had absorbed the information well enough, Damian wrote some more down on the page.
Ran out. Need more.
He turned the page back to Richard, but before he had barely even read the words, he was shaking his head. “Damian I can’t. ”
It will get worse. Please, Richard.
On seeing the word please, Richard’s mouth flattened. “Damian, why will it get worse. Can’t we detox you from this? I understand the League had certain rules, but you don’t have to follow them now. We can talk to a doctor, get you fully detoxed. You won’t have to be reliant on this anymore.
“I know Talia-”
Again Damian shook his head violently, Not Mother’s choice, he wrote down. Grandfather forced her to start the process.
Now Richard’s expression flashed pure anger, and Damian reflexively moved back from him. But, then it smoothed back out to neat calm, and Damian allowed himself to relax if just for a moment.
“Damian, can I ask how long you’ve been dosing yourself?”
2 ½ years.
Richard nodded; he still had that calm expression. “Damian, I’m going to ask you something that you don’t have to answer now, but I will need an answer soon. Do you want to continue with this? Not because you have to or because Ra’s expects you to, but do you, Damian Al-Ghul Wayne, want to keep doing this?
“Because if you do, you haven’t to keep doing it in secret here. Ok? I promise we will make sure it is done safely, as much as possible.
“Or, if you don’t, I’ll call a JL doctor and we can figure out a way for you to detox safely and securely. But Damian, I promise, that whatever you choose, whatever you decide, our top priority will be to keep you safe and healthy.”
Damian swallowed, his throat was still rough from earlier, but it felt like the only thing he could do. Even if he could talk, he wasn’t sure what he could say without breaking down like Richard had earlier. Well, perhaps not to that extent, but the sentiment would be the same.
It had been 3 hours since Richard had posed his question.
It had also been 2 hours and 59 minutes since Damian had made up his mind.
When Damian had first moved to Gotham, after Father had died, the lack of control over his life had been overwhelming. He’d assumed, mistakenly, that it was because neither Pennyworth nor Richard had cared about him.
Then he’d figured that they were stupid enough to trust him. Even the League servants wouldn’t trust him.
Then he’d realized this was what it was like to have control over one’s life. That revelation led to a terrifying thought that he was now irrevocably changed, and there would be no going back from this. He also found, he didn’t mind that thought as much as he should’ve.
That was what today felt like: an overwhelming display of trust and putting the ball in Damian’s court. It hadn’t taken long for him to decide what he wanted, but it had taken him long to work up the courage to tell Richard.
He’d slowly inched out into the kitchen, using the furniture and walls to support him. There, Richard was stirring a pot of something that smelled delightful to Damian’s addled brain. Pennyworth had stepped out to go buy more groceries since he’d thrown out the entire fridge after seeing Damian’s state.
“Oh Dami!” He lowered the heat and rushed over to help Damian into a chair. “Why didn’t you call me-”
But Damian waved him off. Once he was sitting, no assistance required, he turned the notebook towards Richard so that he could clearly see what was written.
I accept your offer.
Before he could blink, Richard blindsided him with a hug. Damian went stiff for a second.
But after his initial hesitation, he reached and wrapped his arms around Richard. “Thank you so much.” He murmured, just as much as his voice could manage. But, from the way that Richard tightened his hold, he knew that he’d heard.