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Chapter Text

Damian stood besides his grandfather’s throne. His “family” kneeled on the ground in front of the throne’s steps. Even Talia kneeled besides them, having made the mistake of trying to help her “beloved”.

“Why?” Grayson whispered. Damian scoffed and turned his nose up at the pitiful vigilante.

“Damian was never on your side, he was always there on the mission to bring the Bats back to me,” Ra’s answered for Damian. He looked down at the kneeling bats, eyes settling on Drake.

“Fuck you,” Todd spat. He tugged on the chains that held his hands in place. Damian ignored him, the rest of the family was quiet. Drake looked as pitiful as ever as he looked to Grayson for comfort. Grayson looked up at him with betrayal in his eyes, and Todd looked at him with pure hate and fury. Bruce kept a carful poker face but his eyes gave away his confusion. Duke never stayed still for long, testing the chains and observing the room for an exit. Brown was uncharacteristically quiet as she leaned on Cass. His mother Talia remained still and silent along with Cass.

A few people were missing, but it didn’t matter. Damian would return, play to scared Robin and wait for the perfect moment to strike. The justice league would never see it coming.

“Take them to the dungeons,” Ra’s commanded, “expect Drake, take him to my chambers.” They all tensed as Drake was dragged away in a different direction from the rest.

Damian turned to his grandfather, awaiting further instructions. Ra’s watched as everyone was dragged away before addressing him.

“Rest for a few days, then return to the justice league,” he commanded and nodded for Damian to leave. With a stiff bow Damian hurried down the steps and to his room. He could still hear the echoes of his family the bats being dragged away.

He closed his eyes and ignored the yells and banging as the fought every step. He could almost see Todd as he threatened the ninjas dragging him along.

Damian shook his head and kept walking. He wasn’t Robin anymore, was never truly Robin in the first place. He would be glad to not have to wear that silly costume and pretend to like the strays the Wayne adopted.

Damian pushed open his doors. The room looked the same as when he left it, but felt all wrong. It was too empty, no animals crowding his bed and the walls entirely devoid of color.

No animals … would his pets be ok? He shook his head once more, he did not miss them. The animals were only to seem harmless. He did not care for such childish interests.

Alfred will feed them. Damian fell back into his bed. It didn’t have any of the stuff animals, not that he cared about that. The stuffed animals are a sign of weakness.

He stared at the ceiling and slowly drifted to sleep. It had been a long day and he could allow himself this one treat.

—————————

Damian jolted up in bed. He thought he heard Tim Drake screaming. Memories from the previous day came back as he looked around the room. He wasn’t at the manor he had to reason to pretend to care anymore.

A second scream sounded throughout the compound. Damian looked out the window at the sun barely over the horizon. He pushed himself out of bed, with those screams there was no way he’d fall back asleep.

He groggily dressed and left his room. The halls were full of assassins despite the early hour. Training starts early for the new recruits. He would call his time in training fond memories but that would be entirely untrue.

Another scream echoed through the halls. No one stops, no one cares, screams are a normal occurrence in the league of assassins.

Damian wandered the halls, but every time he ended up back at the door to the dungeons. He had access, he has access to everywhere, but he couldn’t bring himself to cross over the entrance way.

After the eleventh time returning to the cells he gives in. Taking in a deep breath he pushed the door open. The moment he walked in Jason Todd began to bang on the bars. He yell vivid threats and vulgar curse at him.

“Jason!” Bruce suddenly yelled. The whole room fell into silence. Bruce stared Damian down, but he turned to the cell on his right. Grayson sat silently inside, dried tear tracks on his cheeks.

“We loved you Damian … I loved you Dami,” he whispered, his voice cracking mid sentence. Damian blinked away the growing wetness behind his eyes and turned his head to portray uninterested.

“What you loved was nothing but a lie,” Damian swept his gaze across the room. Cass Cain made direct eye contact with him. She lifted her hands, chains clinking as she did so, and signed, ‘do not forget or time together, little brother.’

With that, the dam had broken. Silent tears dropped down his cheeks as he tried to blink them away. Damian looked back at the silent guard, he was watching Bruce, paying no mind to the young assassin as he moved towards Cass.

He pulled out a small dagger, one he would barely even notice missing, and slid it silently into the cell. Her eyes widened the smallest bit a she accepted it into her hands. Damian scrubbed away his tears and turned to the guard.

“The next shift is coming soon right?” He questioned the guard. The assassin stood straighter and nodded. Damian hummed for a moment, “take leave early, I’ll watch until the next shift.” The assassin nodded and hurried away.

Once he was sure the guard was long gone he turned back to the room. He scrounged around in his pockets—still unused to the lack of a utility belt— and pulled out a small communicator. It was an extra he rarely used, able to link to the justice league line.

He walked to Bruce’s cell, the man watching him warily. Damian placed the communicator on the floor and nudged it in.

“Don’t make me regret this,” he said coldly and turned to leave.

“Thank you,” Bruce whispered. Damian felt his breathe hitch, he stopped for only a moment before continuing to walk. He walked away from his family teammates one last time.

Chapter Text

Damian found himself wandering the halls once more. His grandfather was busy with whatever he was doing with Drake.

… Drake! Damian turned on his heel and walked down the halls towards Ra’s’s chambers. He didn’t know what he’d do when he got there. He stopped in his tracks, why did he even care?

Why’d he given them the dagger and communicator? Because he loves them. He looked down the hall towards his grandfather’s room. As he got closer he could hear soft whimpers and sobs from the chambers.

Damian couldn’t breathe as he looked down the hall. Why did he care so much, because they showed him love , why would he want to save them?

What had they done for him so much, more than they’d ever know. What had the justice league done for him? They weren’t really his friends, not his family. Even if they showed him so much love.

God what was Jon thinking about now?They meant nothing. Damian slowed his breathing, and turned around. He would go to the courtyard to practice with his sword. He nodded, training would be just what he needed to clear his mind.

—————————

Tim held his neck and sobbed. Ra’s watched him with a sadistic smile. The chain that had previously been wrapped around his neck in the man’s hands.

“Tired already detective? I choose you first as I thought you’d be most enjoyable,” Ra’s taunted. Tim tensed, he had to keep Ra’s’s attention on him, he would not allow his siblings to suffer the same. You let Damian suffer for years.

“I’ll ask again, what are the Justice League’s weaknesses?” Ra’s questioned. Tim glared at the older man.

“What, did Da—the brat not tell you,” his voice was scratchy from screaming.

“It seems the League was too smart to let him know their secrets,” Ra’s answered before moving to wrap the chain around his throat again.

Through the pain Tim could only think that Damian knows the League’s weaknesses. Why didn’t he tell them? because he won’t betray you.

The chains wrapped tighter around his neck and Tim watched black spots dance across his vision as he fainted.

—————————

Tim’s limp form was tossed into an empty cell as Ra’s stood at the center of the room. He looked over to his daughter, she faced away looking calm as ever. Ra’s knew she was planning an escape, but he took ever precaution to ensure none of her plans would work.

“I’ll be sure to come back for him, he’s enjoyable to torture, but for now I think I’ll settle for…” he made a big deal of pretending to think. It was obvious he already knew who he’d be taking, he wasn’t the type to make spur of the moment decisions. “Jason.”

Jason growled as the assassins moved in to grab him. The moment the cell doors opened he was up and running. He didn’t make it far as the ninjas tackled him and grabbed him by the arms. They dragged him screaming and shouting down the hall until he could no longer be heard.

Ra’s took one more moment to study each of their faces. They looked hopeful, for what he did not know, but he would ensure one by one that hope would be snuffed out.

He turned with a swish of his cape and robes and left the room.

Everyone turned to look at Tim’s limp form. In the faint light marks of strangulations were apparent on his neck.

“Damn them,” Steph banged her fists on the cell wall. Bruce looked over at her with a sigh .

“We’ll get out, we’ve sent a message to the league all that’s left to do is wait,” Dick assured her. Steph looked over to Dick with anger across her face.

“Yeah let’s trust the communicator given to us by the Al ghul heir,” she sassed. Dick frowned, slightly hurt at her words.

“But you this is also Damian, we’ve worked with him for years,” Duke reminded them. Steph’s head snapped to face him best she could. His cell was next to hers so all she saw was his hands holding the cell bars.

“He tried to kill Tim in the beginning! I don’t know why we trusted him in the first place!” She yelled at him. Duck opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Cass slamming something against the ground. They all fell silent at the uncharacteristic move more Cass.

“Damian loves us,” she said, leaving no room for argument. She held out a small dagger, unmistakably one of Damian’s.

“He betrayed us Cass, I know you want to see the best in him, but we have to accept. Even if we get out it won’t be with Damian,” Steph argued and leaned back against the wall, “look what happened to Tim, he let Ra’s do that.”

No one spoke again as the guard returned from dragging Jason away. Tim remained unconscious, the only sign of life being the faint rise and fall of his chest.

Chapter Text

Damian looked out the window of the airplane. He was returning to Gotham for the mission, but there was one problem with that. He gave Bruce the communicator, the justice league might already know of his betrayal.

He had to find a way to lie to his grandfather. Tell him that the justice league already knew. Cameras? Too obvious, he was too careful not to avoid the cameras. Alfred had been on vacation so he can’t be blamed either. Perhaps Superman’s super hearing? No the house was super proof.

Damian snapped his fingers. Hidden cameras! Bruce was cautious, perhaps he had cameras not even his own son knew about. Damian nodded and prepared the message he’d send to Ra’s once he got to Gotham.

His phone beeped with a text message. He pulled it out, curious of who was trying to contact him. The league of assassins didn’t use phones and he figured out how to get rid of scam a while ago.

Pulling open the messaging app he looked at the text he received. It was from Jon.

“Fuck” he whispered and flipped the phone over. He would have to face them soon, but he could live in blissful ignorance a little longer. Jon was always the last person he wanted to know of his betrayal. Jon was a piece of sunshine and Damian did everything he could to keep the boy off his grandfather’s radar.

Damian’s breathing sped up. He clutched his phone in a death-grip, only letting go when he heard the phone begin to crack under his fingers.

The plane was suddenly too small. Despite only having the pilots and a single servant on it he felt as though millions of eyes were staring at him. He clutched the blanket he’d used earlier to sleep, wishing for Dick to comfort him.

His phone buzzed again, and again. It first gave comfort, Jon’s thoughts to fast to write them out in a single text. But then he was reminded why Jon was texting him. He knew, they all knew.

Damian flipped his phone over with a held breath. Jon’s messages lit up the screen.

‘Damian are u ok?’
‘The justiceleague is loking for u’
‘You didn’t betray us?’
‘Right?’
‘…’

He was still typing.

Damian flipped the phone over and looked out the window at the Gotham sky line. On the horizon he could already see the forms of the justice league.

Damian turned off his phone and place it in his bag. Something kept him from just throwing it out despite having no more use for it. He stood and walked over to the servant.

“Inform grandfather that the Justice League already knows,” he commanded before returning to his seat as the plane descended.

They landed in an empty airport. The league was prepared for his arrival. Outside was Superman, he looked overly confident.

The moment the plane slowed to a stop Damian was jumping out of the door. Betrayal painted the faces of the league as he pulled out his sword.

“Damian, put the sword down,” Wonder-woman commanded. The plane was already taking off behind him and with it the last chance for Damian to delay his confirmation with the justice league.

“I may have given Batman the communicator, but that does not mean we are on the same time. It was merely a momentary weakness,” Damian held his sword tighter. The weight of the blade in his hands the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Damian, you aren’t evil, you proved that long ago. Just set down the sword and we can talk this out,” Superman pleaded.

“Tch, I made my choice long ago, I am the Demon’s heir,” Damian turned his nose up to them. Despite his words he felt his heart clench. he didn’t want to leave his family behind.

Damian readied himself to fight, watching the justice league also do so.

“Dami!” A high pitched voice yelled. Damian looked up in time to see Jon flying straight towards him.

“Jon! What are you doing I told you to stay at home!” Superman yelled. Jon ignored him, going right for Damian and knocking him over in a hug.

Damian stiffened as strong arms wrapped around his torso. His sword fell from his hands as Jon buried his face in Damian’s shoulder.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he cried. He looked down at the crying super in his arms. His grandfather would tell him to take advantage of this moment. Jon was showing weakness and this would be his chance.

Damian was aware of every weapon on his person. Each one he could and couldn’t reach. Which would work best. The kryptonite in a lead lined pouch sitting in his pockets.

He could reach it. One move could spell the end for Jon.

His arms twitched. Jon stilled held on tightly, restricting his movement. The justice league watch warily.

Damian moved his arms.

His muscle relaxed as his hands dropped and …

He couldn’t do it.

Damian wrapped his arms right around Jon. Falling to the ground and like the straw the broke the camel’s back, he finally broke.

Tears came flooding down his face and his breath caught in his throat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry,” he kept repeating, as though the more he repeated the more they would believe.

His breaths came to quick and Jon moved to look is his eyes.

“Dami Breathe, we forgive you just breathe,” he commanded, and Damian tried, he tried but air would just not come. Black danced around his vision, clouding his view of the world.

Damian slumped forward, into Jon’s open arms. Superman approached, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder before bending and scooping Damian into his arms.

“You’ll be ok kid, you’ll be okay,” he whispered to the young boy. Jon stood with him, clutching one of Damian’s hands in his own.

“We will return to the watchtower and contact Batman with an update,” he called out. A chorus of agreement rang out, but Superman only cared to look at his son and the young boy in his arms.

He said it’d be okay, but in that moment he felt more like a liar than he ever had.

Chapter Text

Dick looked up as the guards changed shift. They had only a few minutes to get this right. He nodded to Bruce to pull out the communicator. It blinked with one new message. Bruce clicked the button and turned the volume up just loud enough to be heard.

“Damian arrived in Gotham, he was prepared to fight, but gave up willingly. He passed out and was placed in a holding cell at the watchtower. He hasn’t woken up since.” Bruce nodded to himself. Looking at the door Dick could see no one in the hallway yet. He gave a thumbs up to Bruce.

“Tim has been returned, but they took Jason yesterday and we haven’t heard anything about him yet. Tim has woken up a few times but seems disoriented, possible concussion. Keep an eye on Damian, we still don’t know his reasons for helping us,” Bruce finished only a few seconds before the new guards walked in.

Dick slumped back against the cell wall. They’d been there for three days with no sign of help arriving. The league’s base was nearly impossible to sneak into, let alone navigate once inside. Judging by the lack of sunlight, they were probably deep inside the complex’s walls.

Dick looked up and did a mental check over everyone. On the opposite wall closest to the door was Talia, she was as impossible to read as ever. On her right was Duke, he’s been quiet for nearly the whole time. Currently he was asleep, probably because he was the only person here—besides maybe Talia— with a normal sleep schedule.

The cell next to Duke’s was empty, the cell Jason had been in before. In the corner was Steph’s cell. She too was asleep, despite her tough exterior he could see dried tear tracks across her face. On the furthest wall from the door was Bruce. He was immediately visible from the moment you walked in, probably as a precaution.

Dick couldn’t see the cells next to him but he knows Cass is on his right. She had dagger with her in her cell that Damian had provided. To Dick’s left was an empty cell. Beyond that was Tim. They’d thrown him into the nearest empty cell when he was returned.

Tim had some bad bruising around his neck when he first came in. Dick couldn’t help but worry about what was happening. He’d only woken up a few times, too disoriented to even speak.

Dick hadn’t seen Jason in what was probably approaching 24 hours. He was strong, but if Damian had been relaying information this whole time, then Ra’s might know exactly what makes Jason tick. The thought of it made Dick shudder.

And Damian, what happened to make him do this. Just last week it seemed like they were finally making progress. He purposely hung out with Tim, for fun! Was that a trick to? A way to make them let their guards down?

—————————

Jason was thrown back into his cell. Unlike Tim, he was still awake. He was kicking and cursing the guards as they struggled to return him to his cell.

“Since you guys are proving unhelpful in providing answers, I suppose I shall find another way to make you guys useful,” Dick felt a shiver go down his spine as Ra’s spoke. Duke and Steph were now awake, and Dick swore he hears some shuffling from Tim’s cell.

“You guys might be a nuisance, but your skills could serve me well as assassins,” Ra’s walked over to Tim’s cell and put a hand through, “and perhaps in other ways too.” He whispered to himself, just loud enough to be heard by Dick.

Tim could be heard shuffling away. Ra’s turned away and nodded to his guards. They moved first to Duke’s cell. Opening the door and grabbing both is arms.

Throwing himself forward, Dick tried to reach for Duke’s struggling form. He was the oldest sibling and he couldn’t even protect his family.

The lights and shadows flickered and danced around him, but proved useless to save Duke. He was dragged away and the door slammed closed.

Bruce immediately pulled out the communicator. No messages blinked on the screen yet.

“He didn’t betray us,” Jason whispered. Dick looked up at him. He was bruised and bloody, pulling himself up into a seated position.

“What do you mean?” Dick questioned. Jason looked up at him. His hair was covered in blood and a black eye was developing around his left eye.

“He doesn’t know the league’s weaknesses, doesn’t know mine either. He said Damian was never told them, but I know for sure the best knows the weaknesses of most the league. The kid has a blackmail folder for everyone for goodness sake!” Jason yelled. Dick thought back to before this had all began, Damian had once made a remark that he knew the weakness of every vigilante in the city and the justice league. If that was even remotely true then why send Damian back to infiltrate the league again?

“Little brother, not evil,” Cass spoke up. Dick felt a little more inclined to believe her now. It still didn’t make sense why this was happening if he loved them still.

“Damian was raised to follow orders, he won’t betray orders from Ra’s, but he was never told not to help you guys,” Talia finally spoke. Bruce finally looked up from the communicator. Talia took that as he cue to continue.

“He will in the end fight back against Ra’s,” she spoke with certainty.

“How would you know that? Damian betrayed us, nothing he does now is going to make that go away ” Steph questioned. She still sounded angry, sad, and most importantly, betrayed.

“I’m his mother, plus the signs are already showing. His Robin emblem still sits in his pockets,” she informed them. Dick knew Damian wouldn’t betray them.

A beep sounded through the dungeon as Superman’s voice came through the communicator.

“Damian will be returning in a few days, we’ve chosen to trust him for now, but be careful. We have basic blueprints of the base and Damian will be relaying information periodically. Plans are in the work, we’ll get you out soon,” Superman explained.

Dick nodded to himself. They would get out, because Damian, despite what he pretends, still loves them.

Chapter Text

Damian opened his eyes, blinking away the lingering tiredness in his body. He sat up and looks around. The walls were smooth grey and the floor white tiles. He sat on what was one of the least comfortable beds he’d ever been on.

He recognized the room as one of the watchtower’s holding cells. He’d fainted and was—presumably—brought here. Damian stood and walked over to the door. He banged on it a few times before Superman himself opened the door.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, not knowing what to do. Superman coughed and opened his mouth to speak.

“Will you talk with us now?” He questioned. Damian considered for a moment before nodding. He was already found out, what’s the worst that could happen, you never see you family again.

Damian followed Superman through the watchtower and out to the main room. Wonder Woman and Flash sat at the table, waiting for Superman to take his seat. Everyone else are probably somewhere in the watchtower, waiting, watching. He took a seat and waited for the questions.

“Why?” Wonder Woman asked. It was a loaded question, with a million answers. Damian looked down at his hands, fighting with the hem of his shirt. They didn’t put him in handcuffs, confident that he couldn’t escape.

“I follow orders,” was the response Damian finally settled on. He risked a look up at the metas before him. Instead of the anger, the hatred and rage that he expected, they looked sad?

“Do you want this?” Diana Wonder Woman asked. It was a question with many meanings, but Damian knew the one she meant. He wanted to say yes; he needed to say yes.

He couldn’t speak. He opened his mouth and no sound would come out. Superman watched him from across the table.

“Damian,” Superman only had to say his name. Damian felt like he was crumbling.

“No,” he whispered, the words barely audible. Superman nodded, sliding a small communicator across the table.

“Then show us, save your family,” Superman instructed. Damian reached out and shakily took the small device. With a nod he stood and followed Superman out of the room.

—————————

Damian stood, hands behind his back, staring at the floor. Ra’s stood slowly, his shadow casting down on Damian.

“So you are telling me, you failed to find all cameras. So the justice league knew ahead of time and captured you?” Ra’s questioned him. Damian looked up, his muscle tense as his grander father approached.

“Yes. They ambushed us at the airport, but made the mistake of trusting me to stay at the watchtower willing,” Damian held his breath. If Ra’s even so much as thinks he might be lying, than the plan will be done for.

“This is but a temporary set back. I will be putting the Bats to use, you will be expected to help in the training,” Ra’s commanded, dismissing Damian with a wave of his hand.

Damian moved slowly only until the door closed behind him, then he was running down the halls. Barging past the guards posted outside the cells containing his family.

Duke was missing from his cell. Tim had been returned, but seemed to be in less than optimal condition.

“Leave us, I must talk to the prisoners,” he instructed the assassin. They nodded and left Damian alone with his family the bats. The moment the door closed Damian was pushing himself over to Cass’s cell. He fell to his knees in front of her and leaned his head on the bars.

“Little brother,” she whispered, reaching out and cupping his cheek in her hand. Damian could feel his eyes grow watery as she reached for him.

“I didn’t want this,” he whispered. It echoed through the cell. Damian no longer seemed to emotionless and hate-filled; instead he was just a child, a child that never learned to love but is trying so hard.

Chapter Text

Duke had a new found sense of respect for Damian. After only a day he felt like death everytime he moved. All his muscles were sore and he kept being attacked whenever he fell asleep.

If this was the kind of environment Damian grew up in, Duke could understand why he acted the way he did.

He wasn’t returned to his cell, instead left in a mostly empty room with only a bed. Still better than the hard floor of the dungeon. There were no windows, just a locked door guarded by assassins on the outside.

Duke listened to the footsteps of servants and guards echoing down the halls. There was never a time where the compound was silent. No matter the time of day there was always something to be done.

The door swung open and in marched two guards. They grabbed him by the arms, dragging him down the hall. The guards were silent, leaving Duke to question where he was being taken.

His questions were soon answered as he was dumped into an open courtyard. It wasn’t the main one, this one was hidden away in the compound.

He breathed in the fresh air he hadn’t had in weeks and looked around. His family was there—besides Damian— and they seemed as confused as him.

Duke was pushed to sit in a line with his family, against the wall. It felt like the first day they arrived. He was scared to realize he didn’t know how much time had even passed.

“I believe it is time you test your strength,” Ra’s walked out, assassins following a few feet behind.

A chill ran down Duke’s spine, he didn’t know why, but it felt like something was about to happen. The smirk on Ra’s face wasn’t helping his bad feeling.

This was normally when Duke would expect Jason to start cussing him out, he didn’t. The man was silent, not facing Ra’s; instead staring at the ground. Whatever Ra’s did to him, it was effecting him; no matter how well he hid it.

“This is a test of your strength, I suggest you do you best lest I throw you away,” Ra’s didn’t care to watch the Bats, instead turning to the assassin on his left. “Damian, face your opponent.”

Duke was hauled to his feet again and given a sword. Not one of those wooden training swords, but a real one that could do some real damage.

Damian circled him, watching him with focused eyes. His movements reminded him of a snake, moving back and forth, hard to hit. Damian lunged forward suddenly, the blades of the swords meeting.

The sword came only inches from Dukes face before retreating. They went on for a few minutes, Damian lunging, nearly striking but backing off just before he hit.

“Stab me, just in the shoulder,” Damian whispered before he jumped back again. This time his movement were more obvious, visibly slower to only those who knew he was throwing the battle.

Duke moved, the blade hitting Damian’s shoulder. Blood welled on the surface of his skin as the blade sank deeper into the muscle.

“Enough, it appears your time with the bats has weakened you,” Ra’s called out. For the first time, Duke saw real fear in Damian’s eyes, only for a second before he returned to an emotionless expression.

“Yes, grandfather,” he stood and pulled the sword from his shoulder. He didn’t show pain as he pulled gauze from his pocket and wrapped it around his shoulder.

Duke was returned to the line. He felt sick to his stomach, he’d just stabbed his little brother in the shoulder! Cass placed a gentle hand on his shoulder before she too was grabbed to face Damian.

They didn’t give Damian medical attention, barely giving him enough time to bandage his shoulder. Cass held the sword loosely, she was at ease with handling it, but seemed hesitant to even hold the weapon.

“Begin,” Ra’s called and it began again. They danced around each other, taking attacks that they didn’t quite hit.

It was obvious both were holding back, and Ra’s seemed to notice too. He stood and calmly walked over to Dick, grabbing him be the throat.

“If you do not put your all into this fight, then I will be forced to hurt your brother ,” Ra’s held the Dick’s throat a little tighter. Damian turned back to Cass and rushed her.

He got close and once out of view of Ra’s mouthed ‘sorry’. She was pushed back and Damian held the sword to her throat when she landed on her back.

“Good,” Ra’s said, “perhaps all you needed was a motivator.” It continued like that, down the line. Whenever Damian started to slack Ra’s would find a new victim to threaten.

It was finally down to Bruce. It was evident how much Damian had been holding back at the manor. He held his own against Batman, not even seeming winded.

Bruce finally made a move after being on the defense. He lunged, but at the last moment, dropped his sword and wrapped his arms around Damian.

“I … I love you Dami,” Bruce leaned over his son’s form. Damian remained frozen, looking up in surprise.

“Stab him,” Ra’s commanded. Damian looked up at Bruce, who discreetly nodded. Damian brought a new dagger from his pocket around Bruce’s back.

He hesitated for a second, his hands shaking. Ra’s tapped his foot impatiently.

“No,” Damian murmured. Ra’s looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“What did you say?” He questioned. Damian looked like he was gonna go back, but instead he dropped the dagger. Pulling away, he faced Ra’s with his head held high.

“No,” he repeated, louder this time, “I will follow your instructions, but hurting my family is where I draw the line.” Ra’s rolled his eyes and stepped forward. Damian held his ground as the man approached.

“It seems you need a reminder of what death feels like,” Ra’s pulled out his sword. Damian didn’t even flinch as the end impaled him.

He dropped to the ground, his eyes fluttering closed without a sound.

“Dump him in the pit, once he wakes he is to return to training,” Ra’s turned away from his dying grandson. He didn’t care, he never cared. Ra’s was a cruel emotionless man that didn’t deserve Damian as his heir.

Bruce cradled his son’s body in his hands. For the first time, Duke watched Bruce cry. Even knowing he would return, it was heartbreaking to see.

Would Damian be the same? Would any of them be the same?

No, but they would still fight as always.

Chapter Text

Tim clenched his hands, watching Bruce and Damian fight. It was like a dance of blades and death. One that should never happen, yet here he was.

Bruce lunged, faster this time and Tim’s breath catches in his throat. The sound of his sword clattering to the ground to loud in his ears.

“I … I love you Damian,” Bruce whispered like a confession and Damian … Damian always follows orders from Ra’s.

“Stab him,” it rattles in Tim’s brain. Tim was gonna lose his father, the one he fought so hard for. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. They should be at home, listening to Dick’s awful puns and eating Alfred’s cookies. Bruce should be brooding in the corner as Steph pokes fun at him. Cass should be teaching them sign and Jason should be trying to learn every curse in sign language. Tim should be dodging another of Damian’s knifes … knifes that were always a little off target.

Tim can only watch Damian pull out a knife. One he had dodged so many times back at the manor. One Dick would constantly confiscate only to find more hiding in Damian’s room.

“No,” it was almost inaudible. Ra’s seemed angry, but Tim could only look at Damian. His face was smooth and emotionless; but the way he leaned into Bruce for support, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly, he was scared.

“What did you say?” Ra’s sounded angry, no furious. Damian pulled away from Bruce, he no longer shook. He stood straight and proud like when Tim first met him, no, not like that. This was different, Damian was not there for the will of some master, he was there for himself.

“No.” Damian’s voice was steady, not a hint of fear. “I will follow your instructions, but hurting my family is where I draw the line.” Family, they were family, even Tim and Damian.

Ra’s was speaking, but Tim couldn’t hear it. All he could focus on was Dami. The logical part of his brain screamed that this was a trick, but the emotional part believed it. For once, the emotional part won.

The sword, he recognized it. Of course he did, it belong to Ra’s, so why was it moving towards Damian.

Damian fell to his knees, blood gushing from just above his collarbone. He was dying, he was in pain and dying. All Tim could do was watch. It was Jason all over again.

“Dump him in the pit, once he wakes he is to return to training,” Ra’s turned away from the dying form of his grandson. Just like the monster he was.

Bruce was crying as the servants dragged Damian’s body away. His eyelids still flickered, he was still alive and had to live through all the pain. He will die soon.

Another tally to deaths.

—————————

Bruce felt his son slip from his arms. He felt like the dam was breaking. He turned to face Ra’s and watched as his son stood his ground to his grandfather.

“It seems you need a reminder of what death feels like,” Ra’s pulled out his sword. Bruce lunged for Damian only to catch his falling figure. Blood pooled around his neck and fell to the ground.

Damian eyes fluttered and fell closed. His heartbeat slowing as his body began to shut down. Bruce didn’t care to listen to Ra’s, all he could focus on was one of his children dying in his arms a second time. He never should have let his kids become Robin. Children aren’t meant to be fighters, he should be alone and as he watches Damian die he is reminded why.

But if he went back, he wouldn’t do anything different. This family was mismatched and full of trauma, but it was his family. He didn’t know it at the time, but letting Dick dress up as Robin has lead to the best and worst part of his life.

Tears slipped down Bruce’s cheeks. He held his son closer, not caring who was watching. He brought his head down next to Damian and whispered.

“I’m proud of you.” Damian didn’t show any sign of hearing it, but Bruce can hope he’ll remember when he wakes up.

The servants dragged him away and Bruce could only watch; his vision blurry with tears.

—————————

Cass watched Damian. His every movement scream scared and frightened. She wanted to give him a hug and comfort him like she did a couple nights ago.

When Bruce hugged him she could see how he began to relax. Leaning ever so slightly on Bruce for comfort. When Ra’s began to talk he went rigid.

“No,” he whispered. Cass turned her attention to Bruce. He was worried, holding his son as long as he could. The worry only got worse when Damian pulled away. Damian: scared, worried, frightened, tense.

No. Cass looked back at Dami. He’d changed again, in the blink of the eye. He stood straight, staring Ra’s down, not a sign of the boy from a few seconds ago. Even Ra’s seemed worried.

When Ra’s brought his sword up, Dami could have avoided it. He knew it was coming, yet he stood still and let it happen. He wanted to protect them.

Damian loved them. He returned to them and faced Ra’s for them. He was brave and strong and loving.

—————————

Steph didn’t care, she didn’t. Damian betrayed them and that was it. So why wasn’t dead yet. He had all the opportunities he needed when they fought and yet she stood uninjured.

His sword stopped before it hit her. He did so for everyone. Even as Bruce dropped his weapon, his only defense.

“Stab him,” Ra’s commanded. Steph stiffened. No matter what Damian claimed, he was a weapon trained from birth that will follow all orders.

“No.”

Cass was trained as a weapon too. She was her own person. She laughed with them, cried with them, celebrated with them, and helped them. So why couldn’t Damian?

“What did you say?”

If Cass didn’t have to follow orders then he didn’t either.

“No.”

This was his little brother, the one he roped into pranks. The one who insulted her yet still threatened anyone who tried to insult her.

“I will follow your instructions, but hurting my family is where I draw the line.”

Family? Damian is his family. Steph had been so stupid, Damian is not a weapon. He’s a child, just like she was, just like they all were.

“It seems you need a reminder of what death feels like.”

Steph looked up only to see the sword stabbing through Damian. Bike rose through her throat as he fell, limp into Bruce’s arms.

Steph was so wrong, and now she might have realized too late.

—————————

Green.

That was all Jason saw as he watched Ra’s. He fought against the assassins that held him in place. He would not let another Robin die.

Laughter echoed in the back of Jason’s head as Damian fell to the ground. It wasn’t fair! He vowed not to let more children die in front of him!

He tugged violently at the arms holding him. All he could see was Damian, the rest was toxic green. Green like the pits they will dump Damian in.

A shot pain radiated from his upper arm and he felt his conscious slip away. The last thing he saw was Damian being dragged away and Bruce crying at the death of another Robin.

Loss is no easier a second time.

—————————

Damian’s eyes flickered and fell shut. Dick couldn’t find anything to be grateful for. He was always looking for the bright side, but there didn’t seem to be one.

Bruce was crying like the day he lost Jason. Dick felt terrible as he wished he didn’t have to watch. Damian was his brother, but he was also his Robin.

Damian was like the light in the night when Bruce had disappeared. Without his light, what was Dick supposed to do.

This is not something he will forget with puns.

—————————

Damian didn’t know why he refused his grandfather. yes you do. He must now face his consequences.

Damian watched his grandfather almost in slow motion. His sword reaching for his neck. Damian didn’t move because he wanted to protect his family always follows orders, even if those orders are to die.

He always follows orders. He always … follows orders. He … he always follows … orders. He … always … follows orders?

He … always followed … orders?

He … didn’t want … to follow orders.

Damian was Robin, not an heir.

Robin does not follow orders.

Chapter Text

Damian woke up to green. It was bright and toxic and surrounding him. He gasped, breathing in the toxic liquid. Swimming to the surface.

He collapsed to the ground, coughing up green liquid. Damian was only given a few minutes before he was dragged to his feet. They guided him down the halls, the rooms they passed becoming more and more familiar.

The training rooms.

The area he spent most of his childhood in. Where he learned to hold a sword, where he learned to move and fight. The rooms his tutors taught be to manipulate, to lie and use others for his own goals.

Where he learned to hurt.

The place he made his first kill.

He fought against the hands the held him. He won’t return, never again, never again, never again!

Damian was thrown into a room. Assassins surrounding him, ready to fight. A sword clattered at his feet and the moment he touch the handle, they were on him.

Training has begun.

—————————

Tim was brought back to Ra’s, he sat at a chess table. Tim hesitatingly sat down and the game began.

“Damian is just like his father, too soft to kill,” Ra’s moved a piece forward. Tim considered the bored carefully before making his move.

“Yet Bruce has beat you every time,” Tim responded. Ra’s looked up with a smirk. He moved another piece before speaking.

“It seems we’re getting off topic here detective, “I have invited you to offer a deal.” That … wasn’t good. The last time he made a deal with Ra’s he lost his spleen.

“I don’t feel like losing another organ,” Tim answered. Moving a piece forward as he did so.

“Oh don’t worry, you won’t get hurt. Though I can’t say the same of your family.” Tim’s head snapped up. The game of chess left forgotten. “All you have to do is join my side, you’re very smart and with Damian, nothing will stop me—I mean nothing will stop us.”

Tim couldn’t breathe, this couldn’t be happening. He felt like a fish, opening a closing his mouth.

“I’ll give you 3 days to consider, otherwise you might find some of your siblings …lacking in terms of limbs.”

—————————

“Fuck,” Jason cursed. It had taken so long for news of Ra’s ‘proposal’ to reach everyone that they had already lost a day. They all sat in the courtyard, they only had so long before they were discovered. The fact that they all managed to sneak away was a miracle.

“We’re leaving tomorrow, the justice league has been informed and are on their way,” Bruce instructed. Jason nodded and looked around at everyone.

“Wait, where’s Damian?” Jason questioned. He was no where to be found, was he not revived yet? No, Ra’s wouldn’t take such a risk.

“The Justice League has already contacted him he knows.” Bruce said before directing their attention back to the plan. Jason had a bad feeling as he snuck back into the compound halls.

Chapter Text

The morning started normal, or as normal as it could after having revived only a few nights before.

Damian was shoved back into training almost immediately. Only having time for breakfast and a quick shower. He refused every order to kill. Bruises piling up on his skin with every refuses order.

What he wasn’t expecting was to be called to Ra’s person dining room for lunch. He picked at the meat, having gone vegan years ago. Of course Ra’s didn’t know that, or if he did he didn’t care.

It was silent painfully so. The only sign of the passing time was the sun shining In from the single window.

Damian took deep breaths, fighting back the green the crept around his vision with every passing moment.

Jason had once described the pit as the need to hurt and kill all those that wronged him. Damian couldn’t help but disagree, he didn’t want to kill Ra’s, he wanted to destroy his life so much that death would seem a mercy.

“The Justice League is coming for you today,” Ra’s began. Damian snapped his head up. He hadn’t heard anything of the sort. He hadn’t check on his communicator in a while but it surely hadn’t been long enough for a plan to be devised already. Had it?

“Not that I’ll let them,” he continued, “how about we make a deal? You complete my orders and I won’t kill the bats.” Damian’s eyes widened. He shook with rage, the green filling his vision.

He picked up his knife and flung it at Ra’s. All the man did was smile as hidden assassins emerged and grabbed his struggling form. Dragging him down the hall.

He was chained up in a dark room. Ra’s looming over him. Damian wanted to rip the smug look off his face as a gag was tied around his mouth.

An explosion echoed throughout the halls. Damian felt hope in his chest. The justice league was here.

“You look so hopeful, to bad nothing will come of this attempt to escape,” Ra’s smiled. If Damian had payed attention he would have seen the syringe in his hand.

He was too distracted to notice.

Damian could head fighting from down the halls. He was so close, the Justice league and his family were right there. He pulled against the chains that held him and looked up at Ra’s.

He was smiling.

“They don’t know you’re here,” Ra’s said, “I found your little communicator, they think you’ve escaped already.” Damian screamed for the league, all the noise muffled by the cloth around his mouth.

Ra’s only laughed and the sounds of battle only grew quieter. For the first time in years, Damian could feel himself crying. He wanted his family, all he wanted was to run into the waiting arms of his siblings and feel his father ruffle his hair.

Ra’s huffed and grabbed Damian’s shoulder. He injected something into his arm and Damian felt his body relax. He was still awake, but his body wouldn’t move.

The chains were removed and Damian fell slack.

“Stand.” Ra’s commanded. Damian didn’t want to move, he didn’t. No! He would never listen to Ra’s again.

He stood.

“Follow,” he turned around and walked out the door, “I’m sure your mother will be glad to see you again.” His mother. Ra’s had his mother!

Damian’s vision was tainted green, his fists closing yet his legs still moving. Following Ra’s to the courtyard. A helicopter was there, his family piling in. Talia stood in the shadows, her eyes empty like Damian’s.

“Dami! Damian get away from him!” Dick yelled. Ra’s let out a twisted laugh.

“He won’t be going with you, a quick dip in the pit is all the reminder he needed of who he belonged to.” Damian was seething in rage. He wanted to run to Dick, tell him it wasn’t true, he was sorry, he wanted to go home.

He wanted to go home. The compound wasn’t his home anymore. It never was his home.

“Damian, attack.” His body wouldn’t listen. He drew his sword and rushed them. Aiming for Superman first, he pulled out a kryptonite coated dagger.

It struck him in the chest and he fell back into the helicopter. Damian wanted to scream as his sword found its next target.

Aiming for Cass’s heart.

The green covered his vision, his sword pulling to the side at the last moment. Striking her arm.

He jumped back, Talia now also in the fight. She stumbled lining her back up with Damian’s.

“It’s wearing off for me, just a few more minutes and I’ll get you home,” she informed him. Damian wanted to nod, but his body didn’t listen.

The next target with Wonder-Woman. She blocked his sword with her shield, but didn’t see the dagger he had aimed at her leg. He winced internally when it struck her thigh and she stumbled back.

Talia stumbled again. She didn’t returned to fighting, instead running towards Damian. Ra’s noticed and nodded to the assassin standing next to him.

Damian watched as the arrow flew towards her. It struck her back and she fell to the ground.

“She had our lived her use,” Ra’s shrugged.

Everything was green, but not the toxic green he was used to. No it was darker, like the forests he used to draw. It wasn’t rage just for rage, it was anger to protect.

He turned regaining control as he grabbed Talia and heaved her into the helicopter, dodging the arrows shot towards his legs and arms.

They weren’t trying to kill him, just stop him. It wouldn’t work. Everything was sharper, he felt stronger, faster.

Everyone understood what he was doing. Piling into the helicopter, Damian was about to climb in when Ra’s voice rang clear above the helicopter.

“I command you to stay.” Damian pushed Tim fully into the helicopter before his control was taken back. They tried to pull him in, but he dodged every hand.

He landed next to Ra’s, tears escaping from his eyes as the helicopter pulled away.

“Damian!” A voice screamed. It was full of anger, hatred. But it also was full of love for Damian, a promise that they would return.

And Damian.

Damian will wait for them.

Chapter Text

Jason carried an injured Cass to the medbay. Everyone had taken a beating. The cave was silent as the days events washed over everyone.

They left Damian behind. He faced death for them and they just left him.

“Dammit,” he slammed a fist against the cave wall. Bruce looked up from the computer for the first time since they got back.

“Jason, we’ll … we’ll get him back,” Bruce reassured. At least it was supposed to sound reassuring. Right now it was just a reminder of how they lost another Robin.

“What happened?” Superman pushed himself off a medbay bed. His wound had to be cleaned of residual kryptonite before it final started to heal.

“… too much,” Tim answered for them. He looked guilty, probably because they rushed the plans after Ra’s threatened him.

“They put him in the fucking pit. He’s a child, he should be in school right now, not being fucking stabbed!” Jason was starting to get riled up, his vision tinting green as he paced.

Alfred appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Dropping the tray of tea he was carrying. It was startling, to see Alfred so shaken.

Jason rushed to see him, pulling the older man into a hug. The green receding as he did so.

“Welcome back,” Alfred collected himself, eyes sweeping across the room. He fell back onto old habits, pulling out medical supplies from cabinets.

“Report?” He asked. It wasn’t an easy question. They’d been gone for at least a week, maybe more, they had to condense all that time down into a few sentences.

“We were taken hostage by Ra’s with the help of Damian. After unsuccessfully attempts to torture us he decided to move to as he put it ‘making us useful’. This was also when Damian was confronted by the Justice league before returning to help us.” Tim began before suddenly stopping. They all knew what happened next, but no one wanted to say it.

“He died, Alfred. They forced us to fight and Ra’s killed him for refusing an order,” Steph finished for him. Wonder Woman put her hand on Steph’s shoulder. I silent conversation happening I’m the blink of an eye.

“When we got there it seemed deceptively easy. It seems they were just stalling for Ra’s and Damian to arrive. He following commands again. We were losing, but he seemed to take control long enough to let us escape. We don’t know why he was fighting us or why he suddenly stopped,” Wonder Woman explained.

Jason hung his head in anger. This was his little brother, who he had promised to protect with his life, yet he failed when it mattered most.

“He wasn’t in control. Ra’s uses a special poison that forces the victim to follow all commands,” Talia pushed herself into a sitting position. Her back was covered in bandages from where an arrow had struck her.

It clicked. Damian would never betray them, at least not willingly. Ra’s is a bastard. Jason wished a million curses onto the man.

“Technically he shouldn’t have been able to fight back, but Damian has always been good at doing the impossible,” Talia continued, “he used the pit rage for more than just violence, he used it as a tool to take back control.”

Jason felt a somber smile take hold. Of course Damian being the persistent brat he is would find a way to use the pit rage for himself.

—————————

Everything hurt.

Damian’s wrists were rubbed raw from the chains holding him up. His hands having gone numb long. The worst of it was his back. Long lines drawn through skin and muscle made worse with the crack of a whip.

Ra’s had excellent aim, hitting each groove in his back over and over and over. Digging deeper and deeper. Muscles shredded. Blood pouring down his back with each strike.

“72, 73, 74, 75,” each crack of the whip brought the number up. It was supposed to end at 50, but Ra’s wasn’t ever so kind as to dangle the end in site. For all Damian knew, this could go on until he passed out.

“81, 82, 83.”

Damian wondered where his family was now. Probably returned to the cave already. Did they tell Alfred? Are the making a plan to get him back?

“93, 93, 94, 95, 95.”

Or maybe. Has he already been forgotten. Another dead Robin and another Wayne family grave. Will there be a funeral? He hopes in there is, that is won’t be so … dark. If Damian could plan his funeral, it would have bright flowers and colors. I celebration of his life. With all his pets in attendance.

“100, 101.”

It stopped.

Damian could cry tears of joy as his wrists were released.

“I think that is enough for now. Return to your room, tomorrow I expect no more disobedience,” Ra’s commanded. Damian could only nod as he was led out of the room.

“I expect complete silence tomorrow, weapons don’t talk.”

Weapons don’t talk.

So neither will Damian.

Chapter Text

Alfred wandered the manor. It was quiet for the first time in a long time. He missed the laughter that used to fill its halls.

He looked at the clock, 2:30 a.m. If the family was still here, they would be getting done with patrol soon. Alfred sighed and made his way to the kitchen.

He made a tray of tea and post patrol snacks. He knew it was pointless, they hadn’t come back any other night, why would tonight be different? Despite knowing they weren’t there, Alfred still made the tea. Pilling the plate high with cookies.

He placed it all on a silver serving tray and lifted it into the air with one hand. He kept his other arm tucked behind his back.

Moving through the manor halls he watched Alfred (the cat) wander the empty rooms. The cat was meowing, as it had been since everyone disappeared. No doubt be was looking for master Damian or even one of the other family members.

Titus had been worse. The dog ran around for hours, sniffing everything, looking for his dear owner.

All Alfred could do for the animals was keep their schedule and hope for the return of the family. A family that—despite how he denies it—he has come to see as his own.

Slipping into the cave, Alfred balanced the tray as he traversed the stairs. Voices could be heard from the cave. It sounded like master Jason and Bruce.

“It seems I need to get my hearing checked,” Alfred whispered, more to himself than anyone else. He knew no one was in the cave.

He came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs and the tray fell from his hands. It clanged against the floor, alerting everyone of his arrival.

Jason was the first over to him. Alfred was swept into a tight hug. Looking down at the young man, he watched the glow from behind his eyes begin to recede.

“Welcome back,” Alfred’s voice rose barely above the ambient sound of the cave. Though quiet as he was, everyone could still hear.

It was easy to fall back into old habits as Jason let go. Pulling out medical supplies and looking over the visible wounds.

“Report?” He asked as he moved to address the worst of the injuries.

—————————

Alfred wasn’t prepared for what he would hear when the family finished retelling the story. The guilt they all held as they spoke of Damian’s death. The way they all looked away when he was told they had to leave Damian.

His normal pride to hear when of the boys had done something “impossible” was tainted by the knowledge of where he was.

Looking up he met Stephanie’s eyes; they shimmered with unshed tears. The girl was never close with Damian, and it appears she was starting to regret that. If only it had been sooner.

Chapter Text

Steph was the last to arrive at the meeting table. She knew they needed to get Damian back, but it’s not like they’re gonna kill him so she doesn’t really understand the urgency. They should be resting before jumping straight into a mission, most of them were hurt in some way.

Wait, what was she saying?

Steph might not interact with her brother much, but he was still her baby brother and she loved him. She felt so conflicted, did Damian even love her back. He betrayed them, what if this whole thing is an act. A really complex act that has no real pay off …

That didn’t mean that it couldn’t be true …

Steph put her head down on the table as Bruce cleared his throat. She was only half catching his words, she’d just listen to the audio recording after.

The image of Damian stabbing Superman in the chest is seared into her brain. Every time she closes her eyes she sees the fight replay in her mind. Superman is supposed to be invincible, yet she watched him bleed.

She’d never admit it, but in those moments, she felt terrified. The way Damian went from person to person, finding their week spots every time. She knew he must of held back when he arrived at the manor, but seeing him fighting full force was completely different from knowing he was stronger.

He was so close to finishing them and then, he just stopped. The way he so desperately pushed everyone towards the helicopter. The tears that streamed down his face as he returned to Ra’s.

Steph had felt scared, Damian thought, he looked hopeless, lost as he watched them leave.

There wasn’t enough words to describe how terrified Damian looked in that moment.

It was perhaps now, as she looked back, that the illusion fell away. She no longer saw a traitor, but her little brother.

She said so many terrible things, will Damian ever forgive her?

Chapter Text

Damian collapsed to the ground, his breathing heavy and his arms sore. Training had only become harder since the Bats escaped.

Rubbing his arm after a particularly hard hit from a Bo-staff, Damian stood again. He knew it wouldn’t bruise. No matter how hard Damian was hit no marks were left.

Was he always like that?

He couldn’t remember.

The thought left as quick as it came. More assassins were already moving in. This time with swords.

Damian could only last so long before the strikes started to hit home. Despite that, Ra’s didn’t call off the match. He wouldn’t until Damian was either throughly defeated or stood above the bodies of his opponents.

—————————

When the round was finally over, Damian stood above the bodies of fallen soldiers. All only now regaining consciousness.

Blood cover Damian from head to toe. He didn’t know which was his and which belonged to the assassins. He wiped away at the drops that threatened to fall in his eyes.

“Damian.” Ra’s’ voice was clear above all other sound. Damian turned to face him, acknowledging him.

“Report to the medical wing,” Ra’s commanded of him. Damian moved to follow the order immediately. Something in the back of his mind refusing to let him disobey the command.

It was the liquid’s fault.

The liquid, that Ra’s … gave him? When was that? What liquid was he even thinking of?

The thought, like all the others, slipped out of his grasp. He was almost to the medical wing anyways.

Everyone moved out of his way. The looked on him with fear … and pity? Damian softly shook his head. Why would anyone look upon him with pity? The mere thought was ridicules.

he doesn’t want to be here

There was a blank space in his mind suddenly. He didn’t have a thought, but his mind was empty like he just did.

What’s happening to him?

He pushed the thoughts away as he entered the medbay. It was empty, only a doctor waiting for him.

Ra’s entered only a minute later. He nodded towards the first bed, a silent command to sit. So Damian did.

The doctor didn’t speak, merely holding up a syringe and bringing it to Damian’s arm. He wanted to fight, wanted to grab the syringe and throw it, wanted to … to.

Nothing.

It was the same injection from the day before and the day before, how long has it been happening? , but this time the doctor pulled out a second one. The liquid bright green, acid green.

Lazarus green.

It burned as it entered his muscles. Damian could feel it flowing through his blood, entering every part of him. Damian wanted to scream, it felt as though every vein in his body was being torn to shreds.

“Return to your room, I expect to see you for dinner.” Ra’s left the room. Leaving only the doctor and Damian.

“I’m sorry,” the doctor mumbled. Damian snapped his head to face them. The doctor didn’t even flinch.

“The first wasn’t the real one, if I keep it up you’ll feel better, but I couldn’t replace the Lazarus water,” the doctor barely got everything out before he rushed out the side door.

Lazarus water. Ra’s put the Lazarus pit inside him.

Damian nearly threw up.

Why did he want to throw up?

Because … because?

Water.

Lazarus.

His thoughts were jumbled. Perhaps the words would reconnect. For now he filed them away and moved for the door.

Chapter Text

Bruce was tired. 5 days, it had been 5 days since they got back to the manor and Bruce had only slept a few hours. He was planning, everything had to work. His son was stuck with the league of assassins. Every day they don’t rescue him makes it more likely they’ll lose him forever.

Bruce sighed. They couldn’t do anything, not now, not yet. Even with the remaining Gotham vigilantes, Batman’s disappearance has been noticed. It’s been hell for them to rein in all the crime again.

Not to mention the disasters even the short disappearance of the Justice league caused. It’ll take them weeks to heal and deal with all the damage in Gotham.

Can Damian even hold out for weeks?

“B, you need to go to bed,” Dick walked up behind Bruce. He suddenly became aware that he’d been at the batcomputer for over 4 hours.

Bruce would normally argue. Maybe just ignore Dick, but he knew he needed sleep.

He stood, wobbling a bit as he did so. Tomorrow, tomorrow he will have a plan.

—————————

Damian sat up. His mind felt … clearer. Perhaps the doctor truly didn’t give him the drug. He pushed himself off his bed and forced his body to go through his morning routine.

He’d almost made it to the end before he looked at his wrists. The veins glowing a toxic green. Too bright.

Bright like the sterile compound lights. Bright like the Joker’s hair. Bright like acid.

Bright like the Lazarus pit.

Before Damian realizes what he’s doing, he has a knife to his wrists. Scraping across the veins. Wanting the blood out, for the green to leave his system.

Blood welled on the surface. Falling away to stain the wood beneath his feet. The cuts turn red, then to scabs, and finally a small white line across his veins.

Damian tried again, deeper, and deeper, and deeper. He traced the veins up to his elbow. Following the green that shown through his skin.

It didn’t work.

Red turned to white in seconds. Scars that appeared years old rather than brand new. The knife clattered to the floor.

—————————

“Weak.”

That’s all Ra’s had to say when he spotted the scars across Damian’s arms. The white that extended like vines across tan skin. The green glowing beneath it like a snake just beneath the surface.

This, isn’t what family is supposed so be like.

How had Damian believed this was family. That this was what he wanted. He’s supposed to feel safe. Here, he’s walking on eggshells, and each crack is another scar.

Soon enough there will be nothing left but scars. This isn’t the life he wanted when he was named the Demon Head’s heir. This isn’t the life he wanted.

His family isn’t here. It’s back in Gotham.

It’s his father, Dick, Jason, even Tim. His family is Cass and Barbara. Despite her words, it’s Steph. It’s Alfred, the only true grandfather he had, and Duke. Even Talia is more apart of his family than the league of assassins ever will be.

And his family is coming for him.

Now he just has to make sure he’s still here when they do.

Chapter Text

Barbara was many things. She was a hacker, she was the daughter of the commissioner, she was the former Batgirl. She was Oracle.

But she was only human.

And humans can only do so much.

When she finally heard from Bruce again she nearly cried tears of joy. They had limited vigilantes in Gotham and even after calling in favors with Harley Quinn and Ivy, they were still left swamped with work.
Those joyful tears soured quickly though. The news that Damian was still with the League of Assassins weighed heavily on her mind.

It was always there, tainting every thought it touched. She had taken a few days off from the library at first, but that only made it worse. Without it, she was left to her thoughts during the day.
She returned early from her break off work. Separating herself from life when she was in the library.

It was hard. Barbara wasn’t the closest with Damian, but she still saw him like a little brother. An annoying and entitled brat, but her brother nonetheless.
Now … now she doesn’t know if she’ll ever be able to say goodbye.

She wanted to be hopeful, everyone was so hopeful. But it was hard. Her brain kept supplying her with the worst cases.

Hearing how Ra’s had dunked the boy in the Lazarus pit did nothing to help her. How could that bastard just kill his grandson, his flesh and blood?

Barbara took a deep breath and looked up at her screen. She had gotten lost in thought. The screen showed every file she could scrounge up from the league.

Annoyingly they were keeping any information on Damian on paper only. If it even existed in the first place.

Watching their security, as little as there was, was infuriating. To see Damian drag himself through the halls, a husk covered in blood, it was painful.
She was delaying sending the footage to Bruce. If this hurt her, it’d kill Bruce. This is his son, one he’d only just begun to know.

The footage continued. Just that morning, the last time Damian was in sight of a camera. She only half watched until Damian’s arm came into view.
White lines followed the veins across his skin. A sickly green glow emanating from beneath the scars. Scars that weren’t there a day ago.

And green.

Lazarus green.

Did they? … That is … too far. But Ra’s, he doesn’t care about too far.

Damian rubbed at his wrist. When he looked up, for the first time in days, Barbara saw something more. His eyes weren’t blank, they were filled with too many emotions to count. But most of all, he was in control.
Damian is back.

Chapter Text

Jason parked his motorcycle and hurried across the cave to where everyone else sat around the bat computer. No one commented on the blood now staining his jacket. He looked up at the screen that had them all so distracted.

It was Damian.

Footage that Babs must have found when hacking the League of Assassins.

It was frozen as Damian looked up, his face in full view. His eyes were more green than before, and with more emotion than Jason thought he’d ever seen on the boy. It wasn’t like when Damian was being controlled, no this time he was fully in control.

Jason looked down and stopped when his gaze met Damian’s wrist. Covered in scars, ones that traced the veins. He couldn’t have scared that quickly.
The Lazarus pit.

Beneath the white was the faintest glow of green. Green that was all too familiar to Jason.
And all Jason wanted to do was strangle Ra’s.

He knew just why Damian’s veins flowed green, why the boy had cut across his skin, and judging by his Family’s silence, they knew too.
Babs was still typing, sending more information to them.

Dick reached over and pulled Tim into a hug, and he didn’t even react. Simply leaning into the older man.

Jason grabbed the back of Bruce’s chair, his grip making the chair creak under the force. Damian’s eyes bore into him, feeling like the boy was staring straight into his soul.

Another ping and another video came in. This one dated only half an hour ago. Bruce moved his mouse. Hovering over the video for a few seconds.

Clicking it revealed a courtyard. One they had not seen before. Damian stood in the center, Ra’s across from him. Two assigns held Damian’s arms, forcing him down to his knees.

“Begin,” with one word from Ra’s the assassin on the left pulled out a knife and cut a line where the shoulder and neck met. Blood welled along the surface, an unnatural green, before the cut stitched itself back together.

The knife returned to his shoulder, along the same line. It dug deeper this time, sawing its way through the skin. This time they wiped away the blood to watch the skin reconnect. The muscles rebuilt themselves in thin lines that pulled the two halves back together.

Duke pulled away from the computer, covering his mouth and gagging. By the time Jason looked back, the knife was already gliding through the skin a third time. Jason could hear the sound of it scratching the bone.

This time Tim turned and buried his head in Dick’s side, looking uncharacteristically young. Dick looked queasy, his eyes watching carefully every move.

Jason looked behind him at Steph and Cass. The girls were silently crying as they watched the screen.

He turned back to watch again. The assassin had stopped for a moment, looking up at Ra’s.

“I believe that is enough for today, return to your room,” Ra’s walked away without another word.

Jason felt the rage he’d been pushing away finally bubble over. His vision tinted green and he stomped off to his bike, driving away before he did anything he’d regret.
And his family … they didn’t blame him one bit.

Chapter Text

Pain.

That was all Damian felt, Pain.

Every time the knife slid through his skin. Every time his body sewed him back together. Every time it started again.

And then it was done, and he was returning to his room.

He looked up at the camera watching him, not knowing why, but feeling like he must. Damian stopped for a moment and then kept walking, already forgetting why he had ever stopped.

He could still feel a fog hanging over his mind, clouding his thoughts.

Wasn’t he supposed to be getting better?

Damian shook his head. There was no time for thoughts, he must only think of …

Of…

Of nothing.

His grandfather didn’t like it when he thought.

Everything was coming back and going away in pieces.

Damian sat on his bed and took a sip of the water waiting on his bedside table. One of the servants must have set it out for him, it was still cold and everything.

It tasted weird.

Like

Like

Something.

What had he been thinking of?

Nothing

He hadn’t been thinking of any, but obeying his grandfather’s orders.

Damian laid back on the bed, dreams pulling him into sleep.

Only then could he think.

And think he would.
—————————
Damian stared up at the sky. He knew it was a dream, but he didn’t feel like waking up. He felt free, no pain, no brain fog… no brain fog.

He could think.

He could think … freely.

In an instant his brain flooded with information, everything he’d lost to Ra’s’ meddling. Even memories he didn’t know he’d forgotten, like the names of his classmates in Gotham, or the test he was supposed to take only 5 days before.

Damian thought through his day, every moment clearer, sharper. The cameras.

The cameras were on, someone had been watching.

No one in the league besides Ra’s and Talia were allowed on the cameras.

Barbara.

She was watching.

It should have brought comfort. His family was looking for him, yet it didn’t. It didn’t because they had to watch everything. They saw his scars. They saw the Lazarus in his veins.

Damian felt like crying, for the first time in weeks, months, perhaps even years he wanted to cry. He clenched his fists the ground feeling unnatural beneath his hands.

His world was thrown upside down in a matter of weeks, months? However long it had been. He used to believe so much in Ra’s’ cause.

His thoughts were tinted green, more vibrant and intense than normal. Because of Ra’s, because of him, Lazurus pit runs through his veins, because of him he was alone. But Damian was also to blame. For the first time ever he was shown love by his family and he threw it away. For what? The promise of glory? The title of heir to the demon head? It wasn’t worth it.

—————————

Waking up was, not pleasant for Damian. His head hurt and the new scar on his shoulder ached. There was no sunlight streaming in through his window yet, but he knew it was already morning. He could hear servants and assassins alike milling about the hallways.

He pushed himself out of the unnecessarily big bed and moved towards the attached bathroom. He ignored the mirrors he passed by, not wanting to acknowledge the new scars adorning his body nor the bright green color his eyes had turned.

The scars could not be avoided forever though, as he realized as he got changed. His eyes kept wandering to the lines on his wrist and forearm. The white couldn’t even cover up the green peaking out from beneath. The corners of his vision were tinted green as he thought of why the Lazarus water was now in his blood.

Knocking on the door brought him out of his thoughts. He smoothed over his clothes and opened the door to a servant standing outside. She had her head bowed looking at the ground as she addressed him.

“The Demon Head wishes to see you for breakfast,” she bowed before scurrying away. Damian stood there looking dumb as he thought. Ra’s never wanted to see him for breakfast. He always ate the first meal of the day in his private quarters. Did that mean Damian had to go … there?

A shiver went down his spine at the thought of Ra’s private quarters. He hadn’t been there since the day the Justice League came to save them.

He walked down the hall, everyone moving out of the way as he walked. He used to think it was out of respect or fear, but now he could hear the pity in their voices as they talked. He glanced at the few cameras in the corners. They weren’t on.

All too soon he came to a stop outside of the entrance to Ra’s private area of the compound. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. One of Ra’s personal servants opened the door and guided him to the dining hall.

Ra’s sat at the head of the table, dressed in fancy silks and already eating. He barely glanced up as Damian entered and hesitantly took a seat to the man’s right where a second plate was waiting for him.

They sat without talking for multiple minutes, the only sound that of silverware. Damian took a sip of the glass of water. It tasted off.

“The previous doctor has been killed.” Damian’s head snapped up to look at Ra’s, questioning why the man was telling him. He didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

“I know he didn’t give you the real shot, so I had to find other means of administering it,” he chuckled, watching Damian immediately shove the glass and plate of food away. His thoughts were already scattered, and he became afraid of losing what little he held onto.

Ra’s stood and moved to hand Damian something. A dagger.

“I believe a punishment is in order,” he said moving away, “stab yourself in the heart.”

Damian’s hand shook as he tried to force it down. He could feel tears sliding down the side of his face, dripping onto his hands and arms. The blade drew ever closer, all his eyes could see was the sharp point directed towards his chest.

“Make sure to put on a good show for our watcher.”

His vision turned to the camera hidden in the shadows of the room. It was on, and oh god that meant Barbara was watching. His whole family would probably see. He stared at the lens, internally pleading for them to come soon, to save him.

The tip of the knife pierced the clothes, skin, then muscle, and lastly, it stabbed into his heart. He could feel the organ try to beat, blood rapidly leaving his chest and staining everything red and green. His body trying to stitch itself back together with the dagger still inside.

Every movement, every twitch made more pain flair up. He didn’t think to try and contain his screams.

Ra’s, apparently tired of waiting, grabbed the dagger and twisted. The feeling was one Damian would never wish upon another person, to feel his heart give out. His eyes glazed over as the blade was ripped from his body and he slumped forward.

Ra’s cleaned off the dagger with a cloth watching his grandson stop moving. A finger to the boy’s neck confirmed he had no pulse. He had survived much longer than expected, out of all his experiments with the Lazarus pit, this one was his most successful.

He let the servants move forward to drag the boy’s body to the pits when a twitch caught his eye.

Damian’s lifeless body gasped, he let out a few coughs as he sat up. His entire front was covered in blood as he remembered what had just happened. He looked around expecting to see the cave the pits were housed in, or maybe his room where he was placed after being revived. Instead, he found himself still in the dining room.

Ra’s stood frozen, mid-step as he looked at his grandson. The servants were in similar states but with their shock more evident.

Damian glanced at the camera, it was still on. Still watching. That out of everything was perhaps what he was most upset about, to know that his family was forced to sit on watch everything. He didn’t care as he was dragged away. Didn’t question where he was going or why. Only stared at the camera.
__________

Barbara pushed away from the computer, her wheelchair nearly falling over as she covered her eyes, wishing to undo all that had happened in the past half hour.

Chapter Text

Bruce clicked away from the video Barbara had sent him. He scanned the faces of the Justice League, all with similar faces of horror. His children looked much the same despite having seen the video only hours earlier. The only person who looked relatively unaffected was Talia, but he could see the faint shine of unshed tears in her eyes.

“That is why we must move our plan up to the most immediate we can manage.” He said, setting his hands over top of each other.

“But how? Their base is practically impossible to navigate, Damian is still not in control, and they know we’re coming.”

Bruce leaned back in his chair, letting Tim take over to explain their plan as he thought of the last time he saw Damian. He seemed so different in the video yet completely the same.

There were new scars and the faint glow of green was not there before. His hair seemed a little longer and was messier than he’d ever worn it at the manor.

Every time Bruce saw his son he knew he’d failed a little more as a father.
__________

Damian was shoved back into his room, the door locking behind him. It was empty, he hadn’t noticed how decorated his old room was, but now he can’t help but miss it.

And his animals. He promised when he returned home he would give them all the attention they deserved.

When not if because he is going to get home, he has to. He still had so much to do.

His teacher wanted him to enter an art competition. There were still so many animals to rescue and Jon still needed his friend. Batman needed Robin.

Damian needed Robin.

The thought was startling, having spent his whole time in Gotham preparing to betray his family. He made sure he didn’t get attached to anyone or anything and yet here he was. He missed them so much, his family and his pets, his friends and classmates too. He missed the feeling of patrols with his father, and Alfred’s cookies after a hard patrol. It was all too much and he just wanted to go home.

Damian could have laughed, acting like a child wishing to go home, but that’s what he was. Barely a teenager forced into a war that was not his fighting for ideals not his own. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, now reaching past his shoulders. It was growing quicker than before, perhaps another effect of the Lazarus Pits?

He traced the scars on his arms with a finger, the white fainter than before. The green shone through stronger, too strong. Too bright, too strong, too Green.

He hated and loved green. Green like greed, green like grass, green like envy, green like Jason’s eyes, green like jealousy, green like life, green like Damian’s eyes, green like Damian’s eyes, green like the Lazarus Pits.

He wanted to despise green, to hate the color and all that came with it, but it was beauty in the same that it was pain.

It hurt to think about it.

Tugging on a strand of hair Damian brought himself back to the present. He was about to let go when he caught the color of the piece. White in a way bleach would never be able to replicate. Like Jason’s hair. Another reminder of the ways he had changed.

Damian tugged once more on the hair before letting go, it wouldn’t do anything, but he couldn’t help it.

He just wanted to go home.
__________

Jason climbed onto the back of the batplane, strapping as many guns to his body as possible. Bruce glanced at him but made no comment. There wasn’t time for an argument. He found a seat between Tim and Duke.

Everything was quiet as they left the ground. The map showed them flying over the ocean at speeds faster than he had known the plane could go. No one commented on it, counting down the minutes until they arrived.

Damian’s death and near-immediate revival played on repeat in his head. He was conscious, for the second time dying and feeling all the pain that came with it. Watching his heart and tissue stitch itself back together was gruesome. His eyes never left the camera after he woke up, even when they dragged him away.

It sent a shiver down his spine just to think about it.
__________

Steph checked her utility belt for the nth time, unable to keep still, but unable to do anything else. She could still hear Damian berating her when she forgot something important in the cave. At the time she just found it annoying, but she still started double-checking her pockets. He had done it so she wasn’t left without something important, and she had treated him so terribly for it.

Tapping a repetitive rhythm of her thigh she thought of her brother. He was bratty sometimes, and a bit arrogant, but she loved him. Steph just wished she had realized sooner before she had said all those awful things.
__________

Cass held the small dagger, Damian’s dagger. Hands brushing against the grooves in then handle. Intricate designs dating back possibly hundreds of years. So much history in one object, but more than that, a sign of trust. A sign of love.

It was all the words that remained unspoken, a language for only Cass and Damian to speak. She can understand him, the story his movements tell and the feelings written in her eyes. Just the same as everyone else she could see through him, but he could do the same for her.

They were assassins, they were vigilantes, but most of all they were brother and sister; and Cass would do anything for the ones she calls her siblings. Anything.
__________

Dick stood up and took another lap before sitting down again. Too nervous to stay still but too anxious to keep walking. A sort of limbo that kept him from having even a moment to relax. His body tense like it was moments before a stunt, but there was no flying through the air to relax him.

He glanced around the plane, everyone in their own world. Jason looked angry, his eyes flashing green every few seconds. Steph had chosen to tuck her head to her knees, hiding her expressions. Cass was staring at a dagger, the one she got from Damian. Her face set in determination. Tim was scribbling at a piece of paper, his other hand holding a cup of coffee. Duke was the only one that seemed to be getting some sleep, even if it was full of tossing and turning. Bruce was somewhere in the cockpit. Knowing him it was to try and avoid dealing with his emotions.

Dick turned to himself, taking notice on the eyebags that reflected in the plane’s window. Deep and dark, like Tim’s when working on a long case. His hair was greasy, and longer than he’d let it get in a while. Not as long as Damian’s hair though, even if the boy’s hair started shorter. Maybe an affect of the-

He stopped himself before he could fall too deep. Turning his eyes to his hands, His nailbeds irritated from him picking at them. Even now he wrung them together.

2 more hours, he reminded himself. Then he’ll finally see Dami again.
__________

Tim scribbled on the map of the compound. Every route, every exit he could think of. A million and one backups. He could not let anything go wrong, not this time.

His hands hurt from how hard he pressed. A pile of discarded pens next to him, all snapped from the pressure. Ink slowly leaked out and stained the tissue he’d set them on.

Tim brought his mug up to his lips and took a sip. The coffee was cold, the disgusting taste coating his mouth. There was no sugar or anything sweet added, he couldn’t drink anything other than black coffee when Damian was still out there. He couldn’t bare to know Tim was enjoying a sweet drink when his brother was with the league.

He glanced up at the map, the plane drawing ever closer to the league. The rest of the Justice League will arrive shortly after they do. The taste of iron filled his mouth as he chewed on his lip.

1 hour left.

Chapter Text

Damian held still, tense. Unwilling to move even as the needle entered his arm. He couldn’t show pain as it pierced his skin, he couldn’t show pain as the liquid entered his skin, the syringe was pulled out, his skin healing immediately.

1

2

3 seconds before it began. The feeling of the Lazarus pit racing through his veins. His thoughts became cloudy, just out of reach.

The doctor left the room, leaving just Damian and Ra’s. Damian turned to look at the Demon’s head, he’d forgotten the man was in the room. He seemed lost in thought.

Damian’s skin itched, why did it itch. Why did it itch.

“Stop scratching yourself.” Ra’s commanded. Damian’s attention snapped up. He hadn’t realized the Demon’s head was in the room.

.
.
.

Why was Damian in this room?

The way Ra’s watched him made his skin crawl. Why did he watch him like that. Why does the man care.

How did Damian end up here? He knows the Demon’s head, he knows him.

He knows him.
He knows him.
He knows him.
He knows him.

He knows nothing.

“It seems you were given too much, never the matter.”

Too much?

Too much what? Was he given something? Where was he?

“Damian, stab yourself.”

.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Blood was warm.

He craved the warmth, he wanted it. He needed it. What happened to the warmth? Why was it so cold?

He pressed a hand to his stomach, trying to keep the warmth in.

The muscles stitched themselves together under his hand. Slowly returning to the way it was before.

“Again. This time the neck.”

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Why?
__________

Damian brought the dagger up to his neck with a shaky hand. He died, and he came back to life; every single time.

Everything was clearier after he revived. The fog in his mind slowly retreating, death chasing it away. If he did it again, could he remember?

He would come back. He always did.

So why?

Why was he scared to do it?

He wanted to remember. To see the blurry figures in his mind. Wanted to know their faces and their voices.

But did he?

Was he fooling himself, maybe they weren’t real. Or maybe they were just more LoA members.

He brought the shaky dagger to his neck. Deep breath in, deep breath out.

His hand lowered. Could he do this?

He

He

What was he doing?

The blade plunged through his neck. Red dripped down onto his hand, staining his skin. The room grew blurry and his legs refused to stand.

The world tilted sideways and his eyes slipped shut as he hit the floor.

What is dead should stay dead.

Damian’s eyes snapped open, his hands reaching for his neck. Two scars now ran parallel to each other, one from earlier and one he’d just made.

He let his hands fall away and stood up. Everything looked the same, like no time had passed

Damian gasped as in the single moment everything came back. Leaving the LoA for the first time, Gotham, his time as Robin, getting the Bats captured, their escape.

His family.

How could he have forgotten his family. His fists clenched as anger flowed through him.

They watched, the camera was on. They saw him die and come back to life. They knew he was there, they had to be coming for him.

But did they want him anymore?

He was a freak. He should be dead. He hurt them over and over and over again. Never will he make up for what he has done.

It will be better if they leave him.

The dagger was left in the puddle of blood. Forgotten as Damian turned around and left. His hands still stained red from blood.
__________

Jon pulled himself onto Damian’s bed. Alfred had let him into the manor without a word. It was quiet, too quiet compared to how it once was. Before everything that had happened.

Jon used to visit and find himself surrounded by noise and joy and fun. Now all he found were traces and where Damian once was.

The paintings that hung on the walls, every other one with a small signature in the corner. Damian’s name spelled out in cursive. He stared at them. The newest ones had a different signature. Damian had dropped the Al Ghul from his name and the handwriting wasn’t as rigid. It had a tilt to the right and the letters curved in a way they hadn’t before.

Jon suddenly turned away, unable to look at the name in the corner. He was unlucky enough for his gaze to fall to Titus, the dog watching him with a slight tilt to his head. He let out a short whine.

“He’ll come back,” he whispered, “he has to.” Jon knelt to scratch behind the dogs ear, but instead Titus stood up and began to walk away. He stopped a few feet done the hall, as if waiting for Jon to follow.

“Titus?”

The dog let out a quiet bark. Jon took in a deep breath and let it out. Titus still waited, watching as the young boy began to follow.

The only noise as they walked was the click clack of Titus’s paws on the wood floors. The dog looked back every few moments to make sure Jon was following. It was freakily human like, enough that had Jon repressing a shudder as he followed.

The further they went the less used it got. Even with Alfred cleaning constantly, this area had developed a layer of dust. Despite that one thing persisted, Damian’s paintings. These ones were different, not the perfected ones. Their lines weren’t completely straight and the colors blended unintentionally. They weren’t hung right either, not the work of Alfred. Perhaps it was Damian who hung them.

When Jon looked closer he could see the signature in the corner was only Damian’s first name. The Kryptonian could hardly believe Damian would be so informal to write only his first name, not even in cursive.

Titus sat down, he was staring at one picture in particular. The left side of the painting was a desert, pale yellow sand blowing in the wind and bright blue skies. Jon could recognize it as the deserts Damian grew up in. The right side he could easily identify as Gotham. The smog in the air and the bat signal reflected on the sky. It was beautiful.

Was this how Damian saw the world?

The divide was jagged like it was two paintings torn in half and stitched together. There was no signature, instead there was the word home. Written in blocky letters with what looked like sharpy.

Titus barked, reminding Jon that the dog had led him here for a reason. The boy looked at the animal and back to the painting. He had a hunch. Maybe it was the lack of dust on the painting or the way he was led there. Maybe it was even that Jon just knew his friend that well.

The boy walked up to the wall and gently reached up. His hands wrapped around the edges of the frame. He could feel the paint beneath his fingertips, it reminded him of Damian.

In one motion he lifted the painting off the wall and set it down on the ground.

A sudden laugh escaped the boy.

“I thought you hated cliches, Damian?” He joked as if the boy could hear him. Behind the painting was a small hidden compartment. A few things sat in there, a sword that Jon recognized as Damian’s favorite from the league and his original uniform. There was also a picture, one of the Wayne family, and another of the Titans from Damian’s short time with them. Jon smiled when he saw a framed photo of a selfie he took with Dami. The Kryptonian stole the boy’s phone and took a picture as Damian threatened him to get his phone back.

For a boy that claimed to not care for anyone, he certainly held onto memories. What truly caught Jon’s attention though, was the sealed letters sitting in the middle of the space. He reached in and pulled them out, there were probably a good 30 in the pile, maybe more.

The very first envelope was addressed to Jon. He could recognize most the names, but he didn’t care for them. He stuffed them in his pockets and looked down at Titus.

“Thank you.”

Jon turned and made his way down the hall as fast as he could. His feet lifting from the ground, the letters heavy in his pocket, the one addressed to him always in the corner of his eye.

As he made his way through the hallways he tore into the envelope and pulled the piece of paper out. It was crumpled like Damian had repeatedly second-guessed himself well writing it.

His eyes scanned it and he came to a stop dead in the middle of the foyer.

He had to find Damian.

Chapter Text

“Ra’s Al Ghul.” Bruce spat the name, disgust evident in his tone. The man in question stood calmly, hands behind his back and assassins surrounding him.

“I suppose you have come for my weapon.” The man said it with such disinterest that it made Jason want to deck him across the face then and there. He was going to no matter what but it’s the thought that counts.

“Your ‘weapon’ is my brother Damian, and I suggest you return him to us, before this gets messy,” Jason cracked his knuckles, vision tinted green.

“Your brother is long gone.”
__________

Damian crept through the halls, it was unusually quiet. He hadn’t seen anyone since he left his room. A ball of … something settled in his stomach. His left hand traced the scars on his neck well his right gripped his dagger.

Every minute that passed since his most recent death made his memories clearer. Faces defining and voices echoing in the back of his mind. Damian longed to reach out for comfort, to be wrapped in that gentle warmth his family seemed to carry with them.

One of his first lessons in the league was that love made you weak, but Damian will be the weakest person alive if it meant being able to hold his family close again. Board game nights and long car rides that once seemed so terrible. He’d lost something he never knew he’d miss.

Now he stood in empty stone corridors, cold and uninviting. It was his childhood without the rose-tinted glasses he once wore. He came to a stop, emotions had him in a choke hold.

Damian loved and loved until his body could not hold anymore, it was a part of his nature that the league could not and would not take away. He was taught in violence but learned in love.

And it was with love that Damian would return to his family. This was not how his story would end, not a weapon for the league to use. He was the son of the Bat and heir to the Demon head, but more than that he was the son of Bruce Wayne, brother to so many.

He was Robin.

Damian turned to the left, peering out one of the few windows. It overlooked the front of the compound, where many assassins spent the day, training and patrolling. Today was different though.

In the center was a plane(?) it was black and looked to be unoccupied. It tugged at the back of his mind, so familiar he could image the inside.

Damian turned his head, eyes immediately landing on Ra’s Al Ghul himself. The man was surrounded by his assassins and had a smug look on his face.

“Your brother is long gone”

Damian could barely hear the sentence. His eyes widening as he took in who stood before Ra’s. His father decked out in full gear stood at the front. Damian’s siblings to his sides and behind him.

Jason was the first to move, pouncing on the man like a tiger, knuckles connecting with Ra’s’ jaw. It was like a flip with switched as the courtyard erupted in battle.

Damian spun on his heel and sprinted down the hall, footsteps echoing in the empty compound. He cursed the building's layout that forced him to take too many turns for his liking. The sounds of battle echoed in his ear as an explosion sounded from the other side of the compound.

The Justice League had arrived.

Damian stumbled and fell to the side, his head smacking the corner of a wall. Blood dripped down his face but the cut was healed almost instantly. All it left to show was a white line that too will fade soon.

He pushed himself up, he had to keep moving. His family was within his reach. He wouldn’t give up, he couldn’t give up. If he failed here it would mean every day he spent fighting to stay alive, to remember would be for nothing.

They came back, they came back for him.

He sprinted faster than before, taking the last turn and jumping through the doorway to get there faster.

Damian reached the outside only to find the fight had moved. He could still hear them, not far away. He stood for a moment, assassins littered the ground, not yet dead.

He took a deep breath, turning back to the compound.

It would end today, that he was certain.

Chapter Text

Damian glanced to the side at an explosive left forgotten on the ground. He reached down, gently scoping it in his hands and placing it in his pocket, careful not to jostle it. Something told him he would need it.

He sprinted up the steps and ran inside, following the sounds of battle. The hallways had bloodstains across the floors and walls but he paid them no mind. He pushed his body beyond what he knew was possible, he could feel his muscles breaking down and building back up stronger with every step he took. Every pump of his arms making him go faster and faster. He had to move quicker and be stronger to save his family.

Damian was so close, he could almost see his family. There was no time to second guess himself, it was now or never. One last bend in the hall, one measly wall separating him and those he loved.

He rounded the corner, Ra’s stood on the right side of the room with all his remaining assassins, his family, and the Justice League stood on the other side. Both sides were equally injured. Seeing the blood soaking his family’s suits made his blood boil. Damian stopped, unsure what to do now. He’d never thought this far, he could just run in and start fighting like nothing had ever happened. The last time he had seen his family felt so long ago. He had dreamt of this reunion and yet he didn’t know what to do now.

“Damian!” Steph was the first to notice him, her voice breaking the tense silence. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes. Suddenly the attention was on Damian, he didn’t like it, he’d never liked those moments when all eyes were on him, watching what he did, but he remained standing tall. He had to stay confident for he would end it here and now.

“This changes nothing, he is still under my control. Come here!” Ra’s commanded. It had no effect on Damian anymore, death having long since washed away the chemicals. He was in control of his body, not Ra’s. Still, he moved towards the Demon’s head, one hand hovering over the trigger on the explosive. He had decided long ago that he would take down the Demon’s head, even at the cost of his own life.

His final wish had already come true, he’d seen his family one last time. He knew this would hurt them, but they would move on. They always carried on, this was no different. He’d done so much wrong in his life, but perhaps this could make up for it.

“Dami, please!” Dick’s voice broke through the yelling that had erupted. Damian glanced back and -taking a page out of his siblings’ books- winked. He grinned at their stunned expressions before wiping his face blank. He turned back, stopping just out of Ra’s reach. The man watched him, looking down his nose at him. Ra’s might be his grandfather by blood, but he would never be his family.

The man was smiling, cruel, and vicious like he had won. Little did he know. Damian took joy in watching the expression be wiped away as he pulled the item from his pocket. His finger hit the trigger. The world seemed to slow as everyone took in what Damian had just done.

“Dami!”

In his final seconds, Damian watched Jon come flying in. His last regret was destined to always be making his friend watch what was about to happen.

Click

The vigilantes were thrown back as a small explosion came from between Damian and Ra’s. The destruction was mostly contained, injuring assassins and making a hole in the floor.

A hole in the floor with no Ra’s.

Or Damian.

Dick was the first to move, running across the room and falling to his knees on the scorched floor. The crater a black pit with charred bodies. Too damaged to be brought back to life by the pits. His hands reached for what was left of Damian, but not touching. To touch Damian’s body would make it real. He’d have to acknowledge that his little brother was dead.

Bruce’s hand fell to his shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze before slipping away. The man descended into the hole and lifted Damian’s corpse from it. Dick’s sibling gathered closer, watching the lifeless body slowly be lifted from the crater.

It was Damian, that was indisputable, from his metal spine to his too-small form. So small, so young. A boy fighting a war that’s been raging long before he was born. A war he had no choice but to join, born between sides. His skin was completely black, and the arm that held the explosive missing.

Dick gently touched the boy’s cheek, tears rolling down his face as he did so. Black flakes drifted to the ground. It wasn’t a nightmare, it wasn’t a nightmare, it wasn’t a nightmare. Dick turned away unable to watch.

Superman gently lifted the corpse from Bruce’s arms. Holding the boy gently he flew back a few paces, giving the vigilantes some space. They huddle together, soft sobs sounding in the room. Jon stood a few feet away, unmoving from the position he’d been in. His arm was still stretched out, mouth open as tears streamed down his face. A piece of paper fell from his pocket.

Clark couldn’t see it well, only the ending. ‘Love, Damian’

Clark glanced at Diana and nodded to her. She nodded before gathering the rest of the Justice League to leave the room and give the family some space. Their footsteps were quiet as they shuffled away.

Jon finally moved taking envelopes from his hoodie pocket. He gently tapped Bruce’s shoulder, handing them to him without making eye contact. He stepped back, turning a sprinting to his father. His arms wrapped around the man’s side, unable to look at the corpse of his best friend.

The rustling paper was all Clark could hear for a moment before the sobs picked up, louder this time. Without seeing them, Clark could guess what the papers were, and what they said. A final goodbye from the youngest Wayne.

Clark looked down at his son and then at the boy in his arms, looking at his green eyes that seemed to maintain eye contact. No child should have to witness the death of his friend, Jon should have never been forced into this world of heroes and vigilantes. Clark wanted to apologize, to both of them, but the words were caught in his throat as he finally tore his attention away from those green eyes

Green eyes.

Clark’s head snapped back down.

Damian’s eyes were open, unfocused but open when they hadn’t been before. They watched him as he moved. The charred skin slowly flaked away. Underneath reveal a layer of new skin, unblemished.

A hoarse cough came from the boy. It sounded painful in a way that almost made Clark cringe.

Bruce’s head snapped up so quickly Clark thought his neck might break. He pulled away from his children and took Damian back into his arms. His paper was forgotten on the ground, and the rest of them watched with held breaths as Bruce held his son close to his chest.

“Baba?”

One word that could bring so much relief. Spoken softly with a broken voice, barely audible.

“Yes Habibi, it’s me,” Bruce’s voice was unusually soft as he cradled his son. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes, a few trailing down his face.

“I did it, Baba, I saved my family,” Damian smiled softly. His words were like a sigh of relief as he spoke them.

Damian looked back up to the ceiling. The nightmare was over.

End

Chapter Text

1 1/2 months later.

“Your hair grows so fast now! We cut it a week ago!” Jason complained as he inspected Damian’s hair. I was already down to his shoulder despite cutting it not long ago. The boy rolled his eyes as his brother walked around him in circles.

“At least we don’t have to watch him regrow an arm again, that was creepy, and should have been impossible,” Tim yelled from across the cave as he entered the changing rooms.

“You’re just jealous I can regrow parts of my body and you are still spleenless!” Damian yelled back. Tim stuck out his tongue and closed the door behind him.

“Let’s not test that theory again, we don’t know if it’ll work again,” Babs reminded them as she rolled into the cave. They’d just had a family dinner and she decided to stay and do her oracle work from the cave.

“There goes my weekend plans,” Jason joked as he finally stopped circling Damian. He flopped back into the spinny chair at the computer and put his feet up on the desk. He placed his helmet in his lap and folded his hands behind his head.

Dick snuck up next to him and pushed his legs off the desk, startling the man into nearly falling.

“Gotham’s greatest Crime Lord ladies and gentlemen,” Steph announced to the whole cave as Jason flipped her the bird.

“Bruce Jason is flipping me off!” Steph yelled across the cave.

Bruce just sighed, head in his hands. He ignored the duo and walked over to Damian. He placed a hand on his son’s shoulder and crouched slightly to look him in the eyes.

“Are you sure you’re ready? You can rest for a bit longer, help Babara on comms?” Bruce questioned him.

“I’m fine Father,” Damian shrugged off his hand and cross his arms.

“I just want to make sure you’re ready.” Damian softed a bit, letting his lips curve up at the corners. He looked his father in the eyes as he spoke.

“I know, and I’m ready,” Damian let Bruce wrap his arms around him in a short hug. They pulled apart and Bruce tugged on his cowl.

Damian smiled as he placed his domino across his face. His phone buzzed with a text.

Duke: Good luck!

Damian smiled and put the phone back in his utility belt.

“Dami give me a hug!” Dick yelled, running after the shorter boy.

“Tt, you’ve had plenty of hugs today,” Damian side-stepped the man as he tried to tackle him into a hug.

“But I want another!”

Damian smiled, it was like nothing had changed, but at the same time everything had. Damian was with his family, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

Because, family will always come through in the end. The best lessons were not learned through bloodshed but love.