[ There's the possibility that Damian is going to absolutely refuse to let go. He isn't known to cry easily, if at all, but he's crying now, hitched sobs smothered in Dick's Spyral-issued shirt as he huddles close. He hadn't done his grieving, not really -- coming back to a household with no Grayson had been a shock, and one he'd never really swallowed. He'd felt his absence keenly; returning to life had had its ramifications, and though his first instinct was always to rely on himself and stick it through by sheer stubbornness, his second instinct had been to turn to Dick for help when even he felt overwhelmed.

But Dick hadn't been there. He'd been dead. Damian had seen the footage, no matter how hard everyone had tried to keep it out of his hands. ]

You shouldn't've left at all! [ There's the snapping. He's twice as irate -- at himself for being such a mess, at Dick for pulling such a dumb maneuver. ] We're, we're family, I don't see why--!

[ And he can't. Can't wrap his mind around why Dick's status would need to be kept secret from even them. Him. There's no rhyme or reason to it, not that he can see. He hiccups, snuffling hard, and there's another curse mangled in there somewhere. ]

Don't ever do this to me again. You hear me, Grayson? I will kill you myself if you do.

[ Clearly, he missed Dick, too. Right back to the threats. ]