[Gordon and Wayne Residence] When I'm Small

Damian quietly takes notes on the conversation, fitting pieces together to make a picture of the league. Strangely, he finds himself wanting to meet this Tony that Barbara and Johnny speak so highly of, needing to understand for himself what makes him great. He will research this man after dinner.

Curious eyes glance at Johnny to see if he is watching before Damian tries to place another slice of his pizza on the man's plate. The one slice he ate has sated his hunger and now he looks to distribute the food where it might be consumed. If allowed, he smirks and looks away. If stopped, he frowns and tries to sneak the pizza onto Barbara's plate.

"Does he want to join? It sounds as if this Stark cannot make up his mind on if he wants in or out. Denying the opportunity when presented, but still reaches out to assist when he can." The boy frowns a little. "He should decide: in or out."

At Barbara's new question, Damian sits back in his chair and stares at the apartment at large. Embarrassment, he knew, was a feeling of self-consciousness, shame, or awkwardness. He cannot recall a time he was awkward or a time he was self-conscious. Shame? There is a surprisingly deep well to pick from. But what was appropriate for the scene?

"I-" He pauses with words waiting on his tongue to glance between the two adults. Would they listen? Grayson and Drake had not and Cain did not understand.

"We got a call about a robbery in progress. I was with a group of civilians and two police officers. I could hear my partner having difficulties over our coms. My thoughts were that I could leave the civilians with the police to assist, so I did so."

A soft exhale precedes his next words, "Red was fine in the end, however, the civilians and police suffered further injuries. I had thought I was doing the right thing and I was told I was wrong." Dark curls fall over his eyes as Damian looks at his plate, heat radiating in his ears again.

"I don't know," Barbara answers Damian. "Tony is really... complicated, even if he doesn't like people knowing that," she says, thinking on him now. "He's the kind of guy that I think was taught a lot of wrong things about what makes a man a man... and that weakness isn't something he is supposed to have or show," she says, lifting her glass of almost finished wine to her lips but not sipping from it. She just holds it there, trying to piece Tony together a little more. "Like, if he was on a team, it doesn't just mean people relying on him, it means him relying on other people. Not only could they fail him, but worse, he could fail them," she says, shaking her head a bit. "I understand why he has one foot in and one foot out. Commitment is hard, tying yourself to other people is accepting other people you cannot control. The best we can do is be thankful for what he offers us," she says, nodding. She paints a picture of someone Tony does not want to be seen as: lonely and afraid. So many people are, though, and it is so easily remedied. It just takes trust. But that's... really, really hard. Even Barbara has her issues, still.

"He would definitely be tempted to join now you're there," Babs says, laughing a little. It isn't derisive, just a joining in on the silliness. "I mean- do you want to? Meet him, I mean. You could help me with recruitment," she says, laughing. It might have to wait a little while. He doesn't want anyone to see him in this state. Pride is a silly thing. If she can save his damn life, though, she is going to hold that so over his head, until he joins or makes an arc reactor for the Watchtower. Whichever comes first. 

What a project that would be... Something to distract her from-

"Dames," Babs says, not not willing to stop herself from touching him. She places a hand on his shoulder. "Red Robin took out his frustration on you, rather than the real issue. Emotions can get high... it doesn't excuse what he did, but it may provide context. We all make bad calls," Barbara says, trying to reassure him. "It is how we learn, how we get better. You think I always make the right calls? Or Johnny? No, we fuck up, fall flat on our face, and have to pick ourselves up," she says, eyebrows knitting together. She is going to have words with Tim. "Every mission goes a little sideways. Rolling with the punches is a big part of it. I bet you learned something from the experience, right?"

Pieces might start to fit together for Johnny. Barbara was Batgirl... this kid is her "brother"... they worked with Red Robin....

"Oh my God, I remember that!" Barbara says. She was so young, did not understand it really until she got... older. Never, ever, ever is she going- oh. Oh that's a good embarrassing thing. Okay.

Barbara's face is in her hand. She moves it just to finish off her glass. "My embarrassing moment is now. Johnny, when I was a teenager, I had a poster of you on my wall," she says, face getting red. Anything to get Dames out of the hole he is in. "...... it was on the ceiling, next to Tony, Dr. Bruce Banner, Dr. Michael Holt, Dr. Hank Pym, and Dr. Adam Brashear," she says, groaning into her hands. "I swear, it was because they are in STEM! That's- I am really impressed by your work, Johnny, you.... and other people.... got me into a lot of the work I do now," she says, still refusing to look at him. He doesn't need to know the poster wasn't exactly from Engineering Weekly. "I also had a poster of your sister, Dr. Daphne Koller, Dr. Marie Curie.... but they... yeah. Weren't exactly... yeah."

Johnny was uncharacteristically quiet as he processed the information presented to him. Barbara Gordon was a damn Torchie?! A member of his often fanatical fantasy who collected every signed bit of merch that he put out into the world? A large, dumb grin spread across his face.

"I never forget a face. It takes me a while, but... Gotham Hero Convention, 201X! We did a Fantastic Four panel. You got me to sign a poster! You're a Torchie, Barbara Gordon! Sorry, I need a second to process-"

Johnny was on his feet, hands over his mouth as he smiled like an absolute idiot.

"No dice, Damian, this is legitimately the best day of my life. Barbara, Oracle, had a signed poster of me on her wall. Do you still have it? Those things are worth a bomb these days! And -"

Another cog turned in Johnny's brain. He stopped, looking between the two of them. Red Robin. He knew that name too. Partner? That wasn't an unknown pair for a Superhero simp like Johnny. If that was the case, then Damian was part of a larger family - one that was known in Gotham and elsewhere. Johnny's eyes went wide as he stared at Barbara and Damian, sparkling with absolute hero worship.

"You're not just Oracle - oh my god. Batgirl?! Robin?!"

He hissed the names through his teeth. Secret identities were important to certain people, and the Batfamily especially. Nobody even knew who Batman really was, not anyone who would say it anyway. He took a seat opposite them, head in his hands.

"Oh, shit. Babs. I have a poster of you in my room."

"This is the worst day of my life," Damian groans as the two 'adults' go off about having each other's posters and being fans and over just two giant Simps pretending to be old and wise-

"You can't lie to me, Barbara Joan Gordon. I know your father and where you live." He doesn't flinch at the fact that he sounds so much like Grayson. All Damian can do is try to survive the sheer tide of- "You two are so cringe, for real. It's giving little old ladies talking about Nightwing's ass. Like, just kill me, no cap."

His chair scrapes against the floor as Johnny calls him 'Robin' and he decides then and there that he is done with the title. Brown or Drake can take it back like the nursery blanket they claim it to be. Still, there is one more card he can play.

Knowing that he may live to regret it, Damian walks over to the closet near the front door, pulls it open, and reaches for a hidden compartment towards the back. He pushes his newest costume to the side, reaching for the bright yellow tool belt of the Robin costume. After a moment, he closes the door and purposely walks straight for Johnny.

"These were meant for fans, according to Spoiler." He grimaces as he hands over what looks like a playing card. On the back is the bright yellow Robin insignia. On the front is a shadowed picture of Damian in full Robin attire with Gotham as a backdrop. In the corner and written in black sharpie is the most graceful signature- Robin. "Since I am no longer Robin and you get to have it."

It isn't said that Johnny is the only person to get one of these little cards or that they're typically meant for the children of Gotham as bragging rights. Damian huffs as he takes his pizza to the kitchen, preparing to put food away.

"Tell anyone and you won't live to see the next dawn."

Barbara just starts laughing harder when Damian busts out her full name. "Your spells have no power on me," she says, eyes twinkling with mirth. She's trying hard not to cry from the silliness of it all, a deep warmth settling in her from good food, good friends, and good conversation. "I am not obsessed anymore, better?" she says, still laughing. It feels nice, this. She hopes he feels it, too. "And... to be fair, Nightwing has a great ass, shame he's such an ass," she says, laughter dying a bit. Babs settles, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, absolutely pleased. 

"Sure, Johnny, of course I'll sign it," Babs says, not being malicious with him at all. How can she? Never be mean to your fans. More than that, he's just so damn genuine about it all. She isn't sure she could ever really embarrass him. Given everything he's admitting of his own free will, he's just not a guy that has a ton of shame. 

When Damian scampers off, she lets him go, not all that worried quite yet. If she hears the front door open, then she will worry. Instead, it is the closet, and he returns with one of his signed cards. Her heart swells. He really must like Johnny, to do that. He didn't have to, but he did. Granted, the cards are for kids, but Johnny is kind of a big kid himself.

No longer Robin? When did that happen? Something to discuss later.

When Johnny and she are alone in the dining room, Babs places a hand on his forearm, just to have a moment with him. "Thanks," she says, and its meaningful to her. He can see it in her eyes. "I've never heard him talk like a kid before," she says, looking away from Johnny to the kitchen as her eyes mist over. She blinks it away. "I owe you, Johnny. Name it, I'll get it, do it, anything. You've made a Torchie for life outta me," she says, giggling a little.

From there, she grabs a few things off the table, helping Dames clear it off. She pauses at Johnny's question, balking a bit. Celebrity crush?

"That's hard- I know most of the Supes," she says, thinking. If she were brave, she'd admit to something soft developing for Johnny, but that's not something she's going to do anything about any time soon. They work together... and she knows what it is like to have a messy relationship with the people you work with. Besides- if he wants something, God knows he would say it, no shame and all. Maybe its the Torchie in her. Fuck, Dames was right... she is a simp.  "Honestly, I have run into this guy a few times at big wig events... Einár Brígh. A Bruce Wayne, Matias Jacinto type with a Scottish Accent. What's not to love?"

"I don't know that one. Bruce Wayne, I've met him though. I think I'm in that video."

Johnny laughed, grinning at Damian's obvious dislike of Mr. Wayne. Though it did seem odd, a boy that young knowing the old exploits of a sitting Senator. Was he big into politics, or something?

"Ive always had a thing for Emma Frost. I think it's the blue lipstick, or her frosty aura. That woman gives me the chills, and I love it. Oh, and I had a thing with an alien once, although..."

Johnny paused, suddenly solem. He picked up his wine, frowning into the glass.

"That didn't end well."

He knocked back the drink, shrugging to nothing and nobody. Then he glanced up at Damian with a little nod of affirmation, raising his empty glass in salute.

"I totally agree! Especially when there's so many hot supervillains who try and take advantage of an innocent, handsome man such as myself. The amount of times I've been beaten because I got distracted... well, that was my younger days, anyway."

Johnny's mood shifted again, and he laughed as he rose to his feet, pointing to Barbara's glass.

"Another, Ms. Gordon?"

If his eyes could get stuck in his head, they would have by how hard Damian rolled them. "If you were in the video, I may need to soak my eyes in a bath of bleach and ammonia. Hopefully, the lovely aroma will put me out of the misery of imagining the type of fun you allude to, Barbara."

There is a stubborn wrinkle to his nose as he cleans the few dishes that remain. The suds rolling over his hands serves to distract him until Johnny's voice disturbs his few seconds of zen. Damian glances over at the man, watching as he stands and laughs. His sister and Storm set about getting more drinks and Damian refocuses on his task, shifting his feet on the supportive mat under him.

"Die Hard-" He pauses, mind going back to their earlier comments of 'fun' and disgust twists his features. He may be young, but even he can understand the many definitions of 'hard.' Suds fling into the sink as he shakes his hands, rounding on the duo. "If this is a 'fun'-" and he uses the air quotes he's seen Grayson use, "-movie, then I shall have none of it. We can watch Life of Pi instead."

His expression fades into one of quiet contemplation, and his gaze falls to the ground. Too many questions come to mind, making his choice just that much harder. What qualifies as a good question? What is appropriate to ask of both his sister and this new person? What would he not mind answering himself?

"Have you ever felt lost?"