Chapter Text
Damian al Ghul does not know what to think.
Robin should be him. All his life has been spent training to stand by his parent’s side, to become Batman, to become the next Head.
He flexes his hand, watching the glow at his fingertips.
A symbol of his Mother’s love.
She moved fast to acquire Kord Industries. It is an open secret of who the CEO was. With the scarab, there is a chance that Damian gets an impenetrable armor. His Mother might not have been expecting much – the scarab is selective about its chosen. No matter how clever Theodore Kord was, he was never able to bond with the it.
But it chose him. Damian al Ghul, assassin, with not an honorable bone in his body. The reason is apparent rather quickly why.
[Kill him. Use your blasters.]
Damian grits his teeth.
He hates when he agrees with Khaji-Da. It means he has to do the opposite of what he wants and not follow Khaji-Da’s instincts. If he is to get into his Father’s grace, he can’t go around killing his strays. Damian doesn’t even know who the current Robin is. Bruce Wayne hasn’t publicly adopted anyone since Drake.
From his peripheral, he can see the boy shift on his feet.
“Hi, I’m Robin.”
Damian finally raises his head. The silence combined with the yellow of the lenses tend to unsettle people. But acknowledging the boy somehow relaxes him.
“What should I call you?”
“Tt. Father already told you my name,” Damian says, bitter.
“Do you want me to call you that?” Robin gestures to his body. “You’re in your suit.”
The mask is a double-edge sword – both an issue and gift for hero and villains alike since time immemorial. He has been freer with his facial expressions and his capacity to stay blank has lessened. It’s good he has a mask to hide behind because he’s pretty sure he is gaping.
Damian has expectations. Sometimes, it feels like that is all he is. To take Grandfather’s place. To be owed his Father’s love. To face jealously and rejection from Father’s apprentices. Has preemptively soured his relationship with whoever he met so far. He thought the others would warn their youngest Robin against him.
“I am Blue Beetle.”
“Nice to meet you Blue.”
His nose twitches. He asked for his name, only to shorten it. What was the point?
He doesn’t get to question it for long. Father calls for Robin for patrol while Damian is grounded.
Damian understands. Father does not trust him. His one and only blood child yet never chosen by him. He doesn’t do anything as inane as punching a wall. But it is close.
Unfortunately, Damian cannot spend all his time as Blue Beetle. He is banned from any patrol. He is told to sleep in the night while Father goes out with Robin. The only time he interacts with Robin is right before patrol. Damian seethes. He breaks into the Cave and Oracle says nothing. She lets him watch the feed. He hates that anything he does is on the pity of others.
From watching the feed, Damian can see that Robin is good at what he does. Robin is clever and light on his feet like all the Robins before him. There is something magnetic about him that draws the eye. He can understand how Father chose him. But it doesn’t make it any easier to accept.
Staying in the Cave to try to get Father’s trust is untenable.
Horror of horrors, Father enrolls him to Gotham Academy. When he protests and says he knows all there is to learn from an institution like that, Father rebukes him that it is to socialize. Lucky him, he gets expelled pretty quickly even without Khaji-Da’s help.
Since he can’t spend the whole day sleeping and he doesn’t want to stay in the Manor with the constant reminders of all the ways he doesn’t fit, Damian is stuck with going to the Wayne Enterprises offices during the day.
It is there that he meets Jaime the intern – no last name given. Damian could easily find it but he doesn’t really care about the boy beyond the annoyance he is. He’s not stupid. Damian can clearly see the ploy Father is playing. He’s going to force him to socialize, one way or another. All it does is remind that somehow an intern is closer to Father than he is. An intern is temporary yet he is privy to his plans.
So, Damian does his best to ignore Jaime. The intern is only there a few hours a week owing the rest of his time to school and whatever else children do. Yet, Jaime continues to sit with him at lunch and tries to talk to him.
“I already expressed my disinterest. Why are you continuing this farce?”
Jaime bites his lip. “Well, you are the closest person in age to me.” He raises his hands in a panicked motion. “I mean - don’t get me wrong – everyone is cool and all! It’s just that – I actually moved here recently. And I would like to be your friend?”
“Oh.”
He does not cry. But it hurts to realize that the only people in his life trying are a butler, his rival, and Jaime the fucking intern. His Father holds him at a distance, distrustful of both Mother and Khaji-Da. The rest he pissed off himself.
Damian does not like to admit weakness. But for most of his life, he has interacted with subordinates or superiors, never as an equal. Damian has absolutely no idea of how to continue this conversation now that he started.
Jaime clears his throat. “Do you play any games?”
“No.” Damian winces. That was too short of a response.
“Would you like to?” Jaime soldiers on.
“…Yes.”
“Great! You can come over my house sometime.” His smile is blinding. It makes Damian look away; his face heated.
The invite is how Damian finds himself at Jaime’s house that weekend. On the outside, the house is as nice as it can get at Gotham. He hesitates to walk up – concerned that he has the wrong address. Damian looks down at his phone with their messages.
“Master Damian, would you like to postpone this engagement?” Alfred asks, breaking him from his thoughts.
“We are here already. I am not going to retreat.”
“There’s no shame in retreat Master Damian.”
Damian yanks the door open, steps out, then slams it shut. He doesn’t need advice from the help. He stomps his way up the walkway. The door opens before he reaches it.
“Hey Damian! Come in, you can put your shoes over there,” Jaime points at a cubby near the doorway. “Did you eat before you got here?”
“Yes, I didn’t want to impose.” Damian looks around curiously.
“Oh, it wouldn’t be! I can get you a drink or something…” Jaime rambles.
The house is silent with only Jaime and him there. Nonetheless, it is a welcoming place, filled with mismatched furniture and photos and other knickknacks. It isn’t the empty mausoleum the Manor has become.
“Where are your parents?”
“Oh, they’re out grocery shopping with Milagro.”
Thank goodness he doesn’t have to deal with awkward introductions yet. This is a terrible time to realize he never learned Jaime’s last name. Damian lets Jaime lead him deeper into his house, to the basement. There’s a projector, a game console, and a treadmill. A scattering of games litter before the console. Jaime sits before them, picking up and tossing it back.
“Do you have any preference to games?”
“No.” He has never played any before. But Damian has a feeling that admitting that will make him even more of a freak in Jaime’s eyes.
“Hmm. Let’s do something easy.”
Jaime sets up a racing game. Damian loses. Badly. The controls are slow and don’t react to him. When he complains of this to Jaime, he laughs. “I guess it isn’t that easy. We can try something else.”
Next, they play some fighting game. It isn’t very accurate but he does better. They go several rounds that transitions to a discussion about how the fighters differ from their real-life counterpart. Jaime is surprisingly insightful for a civilian. Pointing it out, Jaime waves it off as simply being a superhero fan.
Jaime checks his phone. “I gotta help with bringing in the groceries. You can stay here if you want.”
“I can help.” Damian would rather rip the band-aid off.
“If you say so.” They go up the stairs and put on their shoes.
Damian trails behind Jaime. Jaime does some quick introductions as he packs his arms with groceries. The wall of groceries makes it less intimidating to meet his parents. Bringing it all in, he hoped he can then make a speedy withdrawal back to the basement.
It is not to be. Watching their interactions triggers an ache deep inside. There is not an insurmountable wall between Jaime and his family. Jaime is not tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
It is such a departure from what he is used to. Damian tastes the sour bile of jealously, one that he has become accustomed to since his arrival in Gotham.
Damian makes his excuses and escapes. He knows in his bones that he would not survive dinner.
Jaime is uncomfortably perceptive. From then on, when they spend time together, Jaime limits to their activities to things where he doesn’t have to meet with his family or spend any prolonged time with them. But the glimpses he does get, it is clear how loved Jaime is. It gets easier to witness.
Things fall into a routine. He does pointless filler homework. He goes to the office. He has lunch with Jaime. He goes home. He ignores Father’s strays and trains. He argues with Father to let him patrol. He waits until Father leaves to go to the Cave and watch the feed. He sleeps. Rinse and repeat for the weekdays. On the weekends, he hangs out with Jaime.
The plateau frustrates Damian.
Damian does his best to ignore Robin while he trains in the Cave.
Perched upon a railing, Robin tilts his head. “You’re good at this. Why do you listen to your father?”
Damian does not preen at the compliment. The question itches at him. He has pushed, been arguing with Father. But he never actually disregarded his order. None of Father’s other apprentices let him command them to not go out. They gave Father the choice: they go without him or with him. Yet two of them died. He is Talia al Ghul’s son. Damian has the scarab. The arguments go round and round his head.
Robin doesn’t give him a chance to answer. “Let’s go out tonight! C’mon, armor up Blue.”
It is the final push for Damian. He’s tired of waiting. He calls upon the armor and follows Robin into Gotham’s streets.
He is careful not to kill anyone. It is harder than expected. Both instinct and Khaji-Da encourage otherwise. But since he’s already breaking one rule, he rather not get into additional trouble.
Fighting by Robin’s side is exhilarating. The boy effortlessly supports him. In return, Damian watches his back as well. They fight in tandem. Damian wonders if this is how it is like to fight by Father’s side, to have someone’s trust. Robin is tolerable company.
When he is tying up criminals with him, he senses a presence behind them. He doesn’t tense to give it away. He taps Robin’s hand discreetly to alert him. Damian gets a subtle nod in acknowledgment – not that it matters. As soon as they finish, Robin turns around and waves. “Hey B! Did you see us?”
Damian’s shoulders go to his ears. He suspects that Robin had set him up to get in trouble. He has to grab his arm before Khaji-Da gets any ideas.
“What’s he doing here?” Father growls.
“He’s good at this,” an echo of the words Robin said earlier that night. “Why hold him back?”
“You have no right.”
Damian scowls. He’s right here yet Father doesn’t look at him. He is not a part of the conversation about something he did.
“It was a matter of time before I went out.” Damian swallows. “Isn’t it better that I did so with Robin?”
Father swerves his head to him. The lenses to his mask narrows. “You are grounded. Both of you.”
“How is that any different from before?” Damian challenges. “That means nothing to me.”
Robin steps in to soothe ruffled feathers with, “B, he was in control the entire night. You should give him a chance to do more. He just wants to help.”
Father is silent for a moment. “Fine. Both of you are still grounded for the rest of the week but he will be a part of the schedule starting Sunday.”
He leaves with a sweep of his cape. Damian’s shoulders slump.
“I think it worked out well. Fist bump?”
Damian weakly taps his knuckles against his. “You planned that?” Damian asks.
“Yeah.” Robin scratches the back of his head. “I couldn’t keep watching you guys go on like that.”
“Tt. Thanks.”
Robin beams. “No problem.”
And thus, Damian is able to replace watching the surveillance video to becoming part of the nightly patrol to his routine. Getting to fulfill his purpose is amazing. He is still isolated but at least he gets to fight beside his Father and Robin.
Each part of his life is segmented. There is the daytime with Jaime and nighttime with Father and Robin. Violence is only supposed to happen at night. The assumption is a foolish one in Gotham.
He learns quickly how, despite Father’s limits, crime occurs at any time when a floor at Wayne Enterprise is held hostage. The department Jaime interns for is there. Damian doesn’t let security stop him.
Jaime can’t die. He matters. His family loves him. Damian – he – he cares about him.
Damian rips through the two-bit goons with ease, even without the use of the scarab. He doesn’t hold back. He feels the warmth of blood staining his face, his hands. He has to get to Jaime. As the last man falls, he runs through the hallways, checking the rooms. They keep coming up filled with terrified employees but not Jaime. He leaves them for the others to handle.
Slamming the door open, he comes to a stop at the sight of Jaime.
The restraints fall to the ground with a soft thud. Jaime gets up and he walks towards him, his gait steady. He meets his eyes.
He is unafraid.
Despite the blood, the violence, despite everything – his hand is gentle as he wipes the blood from Damian’s face.
“Are you okay?”
“Of course, I am. Are you?”
“Good, good. I’m glad. I am too.”
Damian laughs. He never expected anyone to return his care – to worry so much about him.
Yet Jaime accepts all of him. How novel.