The sun was shining in your arms, making it harder for you to see the ball. The only indication it was a ball was the bright yellow, but then again that could have also been mistaken for the hot orb in the sky making you partially blind.

But it wasn't a ball, wasn't the softball. It was actually soft, and made a loud squeaking noise when you hit it. Definitely not a softball, because a softball isn't suppose to be soft.

You gasped, everyone on the field turned to look at you as the actual softball pounded itself into your chest, the item you hit, that wasn't the ball, landed in the grass a long ways back near the ASB group.

The blue and white team uniform T-shirt and grey pants reflecting in the light, you yanked off your softball helmet and rubbed the left side of your chest just under your shoulder, a bruise already forming where the softball had been thrown into your arm.

"(Y/n), that wasn't the ball!" The coach yelled, blowing the whistle. You didn't pay attention to him, the only thing you paid attention too was the blood on the bat and the yellow feather that stuck to your shirt, blood tainting the white area.

This happened about twice a year, sometimes a student would hit a bird without realizing. It mostly happened when the sun was so close in your eyes, impairing your eyesight. This time, it had been you it happened too.

You threw the helmet onto the ground, slamming the bat at your side and taking off running in the direction the bird had been smacked across the field by your bat. The game resumed without you as you ran off the field near where the ASB was filling up plastic tanks of water, Damian was the first to notice something was wrong.

Your breathing was sharp and loud, you could hear it in your chest, feeling your heartbeat in your brain as you ran as fast as you could. Damian, had squinted his eyes and raised a hand over his eyebrows on his forehead to see what the fuss was about, a couple other ASB members doing the same. Especially when it's you, running with a scared expression filled with worry. Something very rare to see.

You got to the area the bird had landed, resting your hands on your knees and bending over to catch your breath. This intrigued Damian, why had you ran off the field? Softball was pretty much everything to you, out of all the time he's seen you play, you've never left the field for any other reason to get water. even then you'd rather be dehydrated as long as you get to be on the field.

Then he saw the bird, first he saw the drops of blood that reflected in the sunlight, then he saw the yellow and red and black feathers in the area. Then he saw the blood on your shirt and the small drops on your face. Instinct took over, assuming the blood was yours at first as he made his way over to you at a fast jog, not exactly a run but he wasn't walking either.

"(Y/n)?" He asked, staring at you, but your eyesight was on the dry grass, the bird that lay unmoving keeping the serious expression on your face. Something Damian felt uneasy seeing on you, was the serious expression that meant no more fooling and messing around.

"Hey, (Y/N)." Damian demanded, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you. A scoff leaving his lips, though in response you grabbed his hands and ripped them off of your shoulders.

He looked down and noticed the robin at your feet, unmoving and bleeding with a wing bent in the opposite direction. A lump in his throat that was quickly shoved away. You always had a strange sense of irony, Damian just hopes this isn't one of those dumb times where you're irony actually threatens him.

"Usually when they say a Robin means good luck, I don't think it counts if I kill it." You mumbled, crouching down to the ground, Damian copied the action and stared at you with a confused look. He had heard the theory of a Robin giving someone good luck if they come across one, but in places of Gotham where they aren't exactly common, like here, some people took the lure more seriously he guesses.

"Um, probably not." He responded, his thick black hair having fly-aways that land in his face, a strand or two in front of his eyes.

You sat down on the grass, crossing your legs and leaning back on your left hand while the right covered your face, shoving strands of shiny (h/c) out of your face.

Damian remained in the crouching position, knees spread with a hand on the ground between them to keep himself balanced. This seemed like a natural position for him almost. His blue eyes scanned over your body, the way you leaned back and the way the sun hit your face that your hand had covered about half of it, made him realize he doesn't really see this side of you very often. Yes, Damian liked animals more so than he liked people. But it confused him why you were letting this get to you.

He remained studying your figure for a few moments, then your shoulders started to shake. A drop of liquid slid down your cheek and fell down your shirt. He couldn't help but look away seeing as he told himself he had no business gaining pleasure out of seeing you cry.

"God this is embarrassing. It's just a bird and I'm crying over it. I know you hate me and all which makes this even worse." You stated, a laugh sparing its way through your lips. It felt wrong to hear you laugh like that also, the brokenness that didn't even spare the tears that fell too. You weren't bawling in tears, your weren't hysterically sobbing.  Granted he knew what this looked like, but he'd only seen it once all those years ago.

"I don't hate you but I do find you annoying, here." He said, taking an ace wrap out of his pocket. One he usually kept on him at all times. Because ya' know, being Robin and all kinda requires skills like that. In a way.

"It's not dead. If you had been paying attention you would have seen it twitching." He said, taking your hand and picking up the just barely moving bird, a chirp of discomfort coming from it's beak.

"Hold it like this." He said, unravelling the ace bandage and taking your other hand, letting a feather or two fall off the bird you had assumed was long dead.

His calloused hands wrapped around your free one, in your other hand you held the unmoving bird. you hadn't seen it twitch but Damian had.

His fingers delicately maneuvered their way around your hand as he placed the end of the bandage in it, wrapping it around the bird under and around the broken wing. Guiding your hand where it should go.

Much as Damian had been noticing different things about you, the guilty and embarrassed tears that slipped down your cheeks, the look of absolute vulnerability in your eyes. The serious expression that had placed itself on your features that clouded on your face.

You had been noticing small things about Damian as well.
The softness to his voice, the calloused and scarred marks on his hands. They seemed rough, they were strong hands. But they moved so slowly and swiftly at the same time, being gentle not to hurt you or injure the bird even worse. From the way his hands felt, he really could have snapped someone's wrist without even trying. But he was being so...caring?

You had noticed soft things about Damin before, the way he drew, the way he sometimes dropped his guard and laughed and smiled with his friends. It was a night sight to see, but with his hands over yours it felt strange. Your hands had callouses on them, but they were in no way like his.

Yours came from gripping a bat to swing at a ball, holding an instrument to carefully extract a beautiful note, grabbing a bar and holding your weight to throw yourself over it. Where his felt like they had come from too many fights. You knew what knuckles and palms like this felt like, but they were nothing compared to your brothers. Which is odd, considering your brother deals with criminals everyday. Just makes you wonder how Damian got these hands. The only callouses you would connect to not coming from fighting were the ones around his thumb and index finger, which you assumed came from using a different type of pencil from expensive wood. You've seen him draw and sketch, but never knew the full extent to how long he's been doing it. Now you've got an idea.

"(Y/n). You're zoning out. I was asking where your backpack was. I have an old box I could put the robin in for you." He said, his voice snapping through your thoughts.

"What?"
"Well, you're the one who hit it with your bat because you weren't paying attention. You also broke down and started crying over it so I'm assuming you want to take care of it." He said, the annoyed expression on his face. He was right, though.

"Yeah, Sorry I'm just breaking you down in my head."

There it was, the cocky expression casting over your lips. Damian felt somewhat more comfortable with himself when you were being snarky and sarcastic. It was much more unnerving than watching you cry or take things seriously.

"Interesting, except not really." He responds, pulling his backpack off of his back and taking out a wooden and lead box.

"Hold it on the wood areas. I was using it for something else but I do not have that item in my possession anymore. So I have no use for the box." Sometimes he would give you vague comments like this, they'd tell more than you were suppose to hear but you could never figure it out. What did he need a lead box to keep safe for? No clue. But now you know he had to hide something in a lead box. Not needing to hide it anymore at least.

"Don't keep the bird in here for more than an hour. Take it out a couple times every now and then, wrap it up in a cloth. Because it's lead and you should be careful anyways." He said, wrapping the bird up gently in a spare rag he pulled out from his backpack.

He opened the box and placed it in, the heavy lid closing in. there was a couple holes in the top, enough for air flow.

You noticed that you didn't feel like going back to practice, Damian had set the box down in the grass in front of you and sat how you were, with crossed legs and arms crossed.

You pulled out your phone and unlocked it.

"I'm not going back to practice, I think I'll just call my parents to come and get me or something." You said, shrugging your shoulders, wiping the last tear from your face.
"Understandable, but stupid." He says, raising an eyebrow but then scoffing, blowing hair out of his face.

You never really noticed it, but in the hot temperatures like today he had his sleeves rolled up, revealing the detailed muscles of his arms. You stared at him for a moment, looking at his neck and his jawline. Moving your eyes up to his lips and surfacing to his own eyes. Shit, had he just noticed you checking him out basically? Who cares anyways, you have a girlfriend. Well, terms and conditions may apply but you still do stuff like this often to everybody, so he passed it off as another one of your stupid antics.

Your mother wasn't answering, and your father was in Metropolis again. You knew that you couldn't call your brother right now, because work.

"Do I have to call Nyssa? She's always so busy and I don't know." You muttered to yourself, Damian caught this and he nearly choked on air when he heard the name 'Nyssa'.  As in Nyssa Al Ghul?!

"What?" Damian asked, coughing and trying to clear his throat. The bead of sweat forming on his forehead but you ignored it. Thankfully, your percepted vision and ability to pick up every little detail wasn't working right now because you were focusing on your phone.

"Nothing, talking to myself. I tend to do that sometimes. I just don't wanna walk home again. Might be good for me to get some clear air but it's a long walk. Well, you'd know but hey." You mumbled, dialing in the numbers of the woman's phone number.

"Never heard you mention anybody named Nyssa. Considering you talk about yourself a lot." Damian said, looking in the opposite direction. "Family of yours-"

"Haha, god no. She's just a family friend that I see every once and awhile. I heard how she talks about her dad and her half sister, all I can say is if I was really related to her is I'd definitely run away just like she did." You replied before hitting the call button on your phone. It was not really much of a surprise to you she wasn't able to pick up.

"I'm going home, have fun with your ASB thing if possible."