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He’d been with his father for a year when it finally dawned on Damian that none of the Bats and Birds of Gotham seemed to realize that he and Todd knew each other.
Mother had all but adopted Todd; Grandfather called him her pet to this day and Damian knew the two of them kept in contact. Damian hadn’t known that, as a child – Todd had simply been another student, another guard, one so gifted his mother had taken him under her wing and told Damian to watch and learn. The memories were vague, faded and warm. But Todd had smiled at him, the first time they’d met again.
And, yes, Mother had distanced herself from him, but it wasn’t as if she was playing favorites – Damian had asked, and Todd had held him when he’d cried, and—
And for all the detectives in the family – no one had put it together.
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He’d been halfway through his patrol when he’d spotted Todd’s helmet laying discarded and shattered on the sidewalk below. A quick swing revealed that Todd himself was missing, but the impact of the helm itself –
Damian fired his grapple up, and in moments was crawling up beside Todd, who was pressed as tightly as possible against a gargoyle. They were on the old cathedral the family used as a meeting point – or, the old Robins did. Father never came up there.
Todd’s face was pale, and his hands shaking, and he barely spared Damian a glance before hunching in on himself further.
“Panic attack.” He spat out, and Damian blinked slowly before nodding.
With Todd being so close to Mother, it had been inevitable that Damian saw the effects of the Pit up close and personal. Grandfather had always raged against the weak-willed, insisted that only Al Ghul blood was strong enough to withstand the Pit’s twisted powers – even when he sank into a rage that left half of his inner council dead and broken. It had not been the most pleasant or understanding environment, but Mother had tolerated no disrespect towards Todd and Damian had vivid memories of Todd telling him one day you’ll be like this too and trying to explain coping mechanisms.
He’d had nightmares of the Pit ever since.
“Panic attack.” Todd choked out, again.
Father and his ilk didn’t speak quite so negatively about mental health – but they didn’t speak of it at all. Grayson implied support, every once in a while, after particularly hard cases. Sometimes Drake did a poor job of hiding his medications. Sometimes Father locked himself in the study or the cave and when he finally emerged Damian would see Pennyworth carrying out empty bottles by the bagful.
“Does reading still help?” He asked, and settled in against Todd– pressed himself against his brother’s back. To cover the blind spots.
Todd let out a brief, crackling laugh, and pressed back against Damian’s weight.
“Not – just quiet, baby bat.”
“You are trying not to…scream.”
“Mm.”
“Do they not know? The rest of the…family?”
“So Bruce can make it all about him? No.” Todd snorted, but cut himself off rather abruptly. Damian took the hint, and didn’t say anything else.
He waited out his brother’s shaking and his gasping. He sent a quick message to Oracle to divert the rest of the family’s path, and kept watch for any shapes flying the skyline towards them.
It was not a hard responsibility to shoulder; none did. Grayson only ever brought them up here when he wanted to prove a point. Stephanie was the only person, besides Jason, to come up here with any regularity – and she was out of town for the weekend.
“Would Father think this a weakness?” Damian asked hesitantly, once Todd had untensed against him and his breathing had evened out. He was loathe to break Todd’s silence, unsure if it would bring the fit back – but Todd only laughed softly, hoarsely.
“When he gets involved…it’s not my health. It’s not my trauma. It’s all about him, bat brat. He’ll do the same to you. I don’t….think he’d think I was weak, if he knew. But he would think I was broken. Damaged. And he’d use that against me.”
“It’s a liability.”
“Mmhm.”
Damian was – immensely grateful, then, that Todd understood what he’d meant.
“Does Mother?”
His brother turned, then, and Pit-green eyes met Pit-green eyes.
“You can come to me, if you want.”
Something eased in him, and Damian let himself sink down a little.
“I know.” He said quietly, but he did not elaborate. Not that he needed to, not that Todd expected him to.
They sat and watched the city for a long while after that, their comms silent and the distant noise of cars their only companion.
“Can I ask you something?” Todd finally asked. Damian shrugged, but didn’t look away from the skyline.
Todd huffed out a soft laugh, and Damian allowed the boy to put an arm around him.
“You hungry?”
“Not for Batburger.”
“Have I got a diner for you.” Todd drawled, and then proceeded to hurtle the both of them off the edge of the building.
If Damian came home quieter and more relaxed that night, no one noticed.
They never did.