Purpose

Ultimatum

Damian wakes with a gasp, but this time, he only sits up in bed, instead of falling out of it. With bleary eyes, he peers around the room, searching for some remnant of his dream, but finding nothing to help him recollect. The music still plays softly from the speaker, but he has no way of telling what time it is, or how long he has slept. Titus lifts his head curiously, as his master crawls from the bed. Damian's goal is the door, but his suitcase catches his eye. It's leaning up against Todd's dresser.

Damian lays it flat on the ground, and kneels. Neat rows of his clothes are stacked inside. He slips Todd's hoodie over his head, and exchanges it for a plain black sweater. His own pants fit him considerably better than Todd's, but Damian still frowns at the way they hang off his hips, like they've been stretched too thin. His sweater stops at his wrists, where it should, but feels loose in the shoulders, baggy.

Damian puts Todd's borrowed clothes in the hamper, and returns to his suitcase to close it up. As he's tucking a pair of socks back in, something crumples. He moves the pairs back, unearthing a folded piece of paper. The note is written hastily, but there's no mistaking Pennyworth's hand,

Master Damian,

I wanted to include your Robin suit, as I believe it belongs to you. However, I wasn't sure how it would be received, and did not want to force it upon you if you harbored ill feelings. In the interest of stealth, and taking into account your comfort, and usual style, I had this outfit made up some time ago. I felt it was an appropriate time to offer it to you.

I hope you are well.

A. Pennyworth

Damian stares and stares at the note, unsure how to feel. Eventually, he removes the rest of the socks, and pulls a bundle of clothes from the bottom. They're wrapped around a black utility belt, three pieces unfolding separately. Damian holds one of them up, revealing a long cloak with well-fitted sleeves. There are loose trousers, lined with pockets like cargo pants, and a warm top long enough to tuck into them. His eyes search the top with some apprehension, and finds himself relieved to not see the familiar R emblem.

Damian packs the clothes away, and returns the suitcase next to Todd's dresser, out of the way of opening the drawers, now. Damian exits the room, strolling toward the living room to find not one head facing the TV, but three. Grayson, sitting on the far end, notices Damian in his periphery first.

Grayson smiles brightly, "Good morning."

Drake and Todd swivel their heads. The hockey game is on again, and Todd turns it down a bit. "Hey," Drake greets.

Damian nods at him, unsure why either of his other brothers are here. "Grayson, Drake." They act like it's normal to see Damian emerge from Todd's bedroom, so Damian decides to play along. After all, nothing can be normal without some semblance of normalcy.

"You changed," Todd remarks.

"Yes," Damian replies. He imagines his hair looks quite comical, and he's no longer wearing a hood to cover it up. Fortunately, none of them comment on it. "May I have some water?"

"Sure," Todd pushes himself off the couch, and heads for the kitchen.

Titus' nose bumps Damian's hand, and he pats the dog's head. Stretching his paws in front of him, he arches his back, yawning, and trots along beside Damian as he, in turn, follows Todd into the kitchen. He watches the Red Hood fill a glass and hand it to him. "Thank you."

Todd crouches, so he's down level with Titus, and gives the dog a hearty scratch behind both ears, grinning at the way it mushes Titus' face. He looks up at Damian, scrutinizing him. "If you want them to leave," he says, hushed, "they will."