He knows he could order Nathaniel to tell the truth and come to him, but in some ways it feels like forcing someone against their will. Not his style.

He looks levelly at Nathaniel, summoning a tenderness to his gaze that he seldom feels and uses even less often. "There is no need to lie to me, Nat. I am only trying to help."

Damian reaches out, palm up, offering the only thing he believes he can in order to calm Nathaniel: touch.