Robin Suits

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Demetria's P.O.V.:

Walking up behind Damian, I find him staring at the Robin suit, the one that Dick used to wear.

"This was yours?" Damian asks Dick, referring to the suit.

"Still is," Dick replies annoyed, now standing and checking the stitches on his arm.

I walk closer to the case, leaning in, getting a closer look at the suit. Damian seemed to have the same idea, but instead of leaning into the glass, he presses the case open for a closer look. As the glass slowly opens, a big hand quickly closes the case with force.

"Keep your hands off it, kid," Dick says glaring at Damian with his hands on his hips.

Damian looks at the suit once more. "Is this what you wore in training?"

"It's what I wore when I went on patrol."

"The only thing it's missing is lace trim and a sun hat," Damian says with a smug smile.

"You don't fool me. I know what you're thinking." Dick points an accusing finger at Damian. "You're thinking that you could be Robin. Well, you can't."

I looked back at the suit, imagining Damian wearing the suit. No. Damian wearing a costume this revealing? I look over the pantless suit once again. Impossible. Let alone be someone who would let their enemy get away alive by will.

"I don't need some insipid costume and a bird name." Damian points to himself with his thumb with confidence, "I'm way beyond your kind of simplistic training. As you saw tonight."

"Don't forget," Dick says walking away, "you lost that fight."

"Tch. I didn't—"

"Admit it Dami. We lost," I put my hand on Damian's shoulder, "And you know it."

"He's the one wounded!"

"But we're the ones who ended up getting caught and tied up," I reply calmly. 

"Listen to your sister, kid," Dick says looking up at us, "at least she has to guts and brains to admit she lost."

"Don't let him get to you Dami. Calm down, alright?"

"Tch. We didn't lose"

Taking my hand off of his shoulder, I walk over to Dick who is now grabbing his top from the table, next to the medical equipment. 

I stop a few feet behind him and ask, "So, I'm guessing that your opinion on my brother didn't change?"

"No, it changed," he says looking back at me. He puts on his top and turns his whole body towards me. I look at him a little hopeful.

"I think he's even more of a brat than I anticipated." My small spark of hope extinguished in a snap. He looks up at Damian who is still on the second platform, now looking at the ground with his fists clenched. 

"Are you sure that you two are related?" Dick asking one more time.

"Ya," I reply quietly, "He's my older brother." Staring at Damian, I can't help but feel upset, myself. 

There were times where we've had our ups and downs, but we can't help but beat ourselves up when we lose. We're supposed to be the greatest weapon when together. We're supposed to win.

"What? You're younger?" 

"Ya", I look at him in confusion, "Is that wrong?"

"No," he says waving his hands, "I thought you were older since you're more mature."

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