Chapter Text
In the years Damian had lived with his father and new family, he’d learned many things. He’d learned not to kill. He’d learned that there is a path to justice without bloodshed. He’d learned that so much of what his mother taught him was wrong.
His mother taught him many things, most of which fell apart upon closer inspection. ‘Mercy is weakness,’ didn’t hold up to scrutiny. The vast majority of legal and religious systems penalized ruthlessness, the opposite of mercy. Logically, he could tear that down. “It is better to die than live in the shame of defeat.” A dead man feels no shame but also feels no joy and has no ability to defeat their opponent in a rematch. Again, it didn't make sense.
And yet there was one thing his mother taught him that he struggled to let go of. It wasn’t their creed; he wasn’t expected to repeat it back to his tutors, but it remained. “Munharafin deserve death.”
Damian has seen it from his window once. Two members of the League were found in bed together and therefore branded as almunharafin. They were then whipped and executed in the courtyard. The lesson stuck. The deviants, (Arabic had no other word for it) were perverse and a cancer to the League.
English had better words for it. Gay. Homosexual. Damian.
This too he should easily push away as wrong. Those men harmed no one, they did not deserve death. If he can knock down the idea of death for minor slights, he should be able to move past thinking those men had done anything wrong. And yet every time he looked at a boy the way he should a girl, he was filled with terror and shame.
America was different, he knew that. He knew it was legal or at least not prosecuted in every state, and that munharafin—no, he had better words, he would not use the ones his mother gave him—could marry and live together legally.
But he also knew of the many teenagers in Gotham homeless solely because their families refused to care for them. Solely because they were queer.
He did not know how his father would respond, or how his family would respond. How Grayson would respond.
Damian could be rash, but he also knew when to be cautious. As much as his gut churned with his yearning for someone, he would not risk acting on that desire or any other until he knew the consequences. Only once he knew what he would face from his family, would he even consider approaching another boy.
———
Eventually he settled on Todd. In the five years Damian lived in Gotham, he and Jason had found an understanding. They both wrestled with their father’s expectations, and they both had spent time in the League.
Jason knew the creed and knew the mantras Damian had memorized. And on some slow nights, the two of them had opened a private channel on the comms and broken down the fallacies of the League. In a way, he had Todd to thank for finding his way out of the League’s group think.
On this night, Damian found his way to Todd’s apartment. The man had many safe houses throughout the city, but this was his home base. He went in through a window and crossed his arms disinterestedly when Todd pointed a gun at him.
“The hell, Demon Brat?” Todd demanded. He was in pajama pants, and had rolled out of bed and onto the worn carpet, gun in hand. No doubt he had expected an intruder sent to kill him, as there was nothing in this sparse room worth a burglar’s time.
Years ago, Damian would have torn him to shreds for calling him that, but now ‘Demon Brat’ was less of an insult and more of a familiar nickname. A joke between brothers.
Damian watched Todd silently until he put his gun on the bed, and then said, “You know the League. You helped me see the flaws in their dogma.”
“Yeah,” Jason said, nodding slowly. “You looking to open a comm channel again?”
“I felt this conversation would be better held in person,” Damian explained. He was not afraid of Jason, but the idea of telling someone, of sharing this secret had his heart racing and hands shaking ever so slightly.
Jason blew out a long breath and rocked back on his heels, contemplating, before nodding and saying, “Well heat costs money, so close the window and come on. I’ll make you some tea, you damned coffee hating foreigner.” He turned and left his bedroom, expecting Damian to follow.
A few minutes later, Jason was setting a mug of some supermarket tea down in front of Damian and holding a cup of coffee for himself. He sat down across the small table from him and didn’t say anything, just drank his coffee.
The tea wasn’t high quality, but it was well enough made. Plus, focusing on the warm mug and the mechanical action of drinking helped calm Damian’s nerves. His hands stopped shaking, and he felt more prepared for this.
Once he had drank half of the cup, Jason asked, “So what’s this about, little D?”
“You helped me see the error of my mother’s ways,” Damian said, repeating his earlier statement. Todd nodded, and he continued. “However, you do not disagree with her on everything. You and the League agree that killing criminals is more expedient than imprisoning them.”
Jason opened his mouth to speak, but Damian cut him off. “I’m not here to reopen that discussion. I’m... curious about whether you agree with the League on another topic.”
Jason set down his mug and the sound of it hitting the plastic veneer of the table cut the silence. “What topic?”
Again, Damian took a drink to calm his nerves and gather strength. He was too strong to be cowed by a simple conversation.
“Damian?” Jason prompted.
“Munharafin,” Damian set curtly.
Jason frowned and leaned back in his chair. “My Arabic’s a little rusty. That’s like perverts, right?”
“Literally translated,” Damian conceded. He stared at the tea bag instead of his brother. “But in this case, it means homosexuals.”
That surprised Jason. He blinked and put his chair back on four legs. “You want to know if I agree with the League about gay people? It never came up in my time there, so you’ll have to tell me what the League thinks.”
“That they should be swiftly put to death,” Damian explained. He bobbed the tea bag up and down in his cup.
Jason grimaced and said, “Yeah, that’s about what I expected. Uh, no. I don’t agree with that. Gay people can go do whatever they want. Date, fuck, get married. Doesn’t hurt anyone.”
Damian nodded. That was good. At least Jason wouldn’t be looking to hurt him.
Jason’s voice softened as he asked, “So why the sudden interest in my homophobia or lack thereof?”
Instead of answering, Damian stared at the wall over Jason’s shoulder and finished the rest of his tea.
“Damian?” Jason prompted again.
Deciding to bite the bullet, Damian said, “I’m a munha-” He stopped and corrected himself. “I’m gay.”
“Oh.”
He prepared himself for Jason’s reaction and stood, ready to flee.
“Woah, woah,” Jason said, raising his hands. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t got to run away. Sit back down.”
Slowly, Damian sat back down. He looked at Jason, who looked out of his depth, but not upset or disgusted. Perhaps this wasn’t a terrible idea.
“You aren’t upset?” Damian asked, again fiddling with the mug in front of him.
“No,” Jason said, like it was a dumb question. “Like I said. Doesn’t hurt anyone, so I don’t particularly care. I left a severed head in someone’s bed yesterday, it’s not like I have any room to judge.”
Damian nodded and took a deep breath. “Good.”
“Am I supposed to give you a hug or something?” Jason asked. “I’m not good at this.”
“Hug me and I’ll cut off your hand,” Damian shot back. He smiled slightly, this was normal.
Jason laughed and came around the table. He ruffled Damian’s hair, who growled at him. He leaned against the table top and said, “So, uh, use a condom. Just because you can’t get them pregnant, still got to put a rubber on it.”
“You are far from the person to give me sex advice,” Damian said flatly.
“First,” Jason said, holding up a finger. “Rude. Second, have you told anyone else?”
Damian shook his head and said, “You are the first.”
That made Jason’s eyes widen. “Uh, wow. Okay. I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry.”
“I have more credibility than you. People would believe me over you if you did,” Damian explained coldly.
Jason snorted. “Ah, there’s the Demon Brat I know.”
“It is late,” Damian said as he stood. “Thank you for your time. I will allow you to sleep.”
Jason nodded and said, “Night, Lil D.”
“Good night, Todd,” he said, going to the other window and climbing out into the night.