Archive of Our Own

This was… new.

He wasn’t used to this. It's definitely something that will take him a while to get accustomed too, but he could adapt. That’s what he was trained to do.

The room was spacious, a bed all the way to the end with bed sheets perfectly creased around the edges. He had a dresser near the door, two small loveseat sofas facing the bed with a 60” Flat Screen TV in the middle. He had a walk-in closet which he found no use for, and he already folded the clothes that Alfred had left on the bed, and put them in the dresser. He didn’t need any more. It wasn’t practical. There was a door all the way to the right of the entrance that led to his bathroom. There was a balcony outside of his room, something he was secretly glad for as it gave him easier access to escape if he needed to. He had no use for most of the things in the room. The bed wasn’t needed, he could sleep on the floor with no problem. He didn’t need the sofas, and he didn’t care for the TV. His pride won’t let him admit that he doesn't know how to use it.

As he stared at the closet, he realized that he could put all of his weapons there, and organize them to perfection, so that he won't get punished for disorganization. The only thing he was secretly impressed by was that the room was spotless. No dust. He checked, and everything was cleaned to a T. It was good that his father had an efficient butler as annoying as the old man seemed to be.

His father… Talia had shown him pictures when she was in a good mood. She had only shown him 4, and she never allowed him to keep them. 

‘It’s a weakness Damian, don’t get attached. You’re not here to know about him, you’re here to fight.’

It’s interesting that she always said that, and yet he was constantly reminded of his position, and where he came from.

‘You’re a Prince, the real heir of Bruce Wayne and Koriand’r. Act like it.’

It was always something that was beaten into him. It didn’t matter how many idiots his father adopted, he was his real son. The other’s don’t come close to his level of importance. He’s not jealous, he’s not. He’s just as efficient as the others, and more. He had always known that he had been born as a tool for the League, a mere science experiment, but his curiosity never faded.

His mother… she was- He was only shown one picture of her. Talia had only ever shown him one, she was younger in the photo compared to now. He remembered that day clearly. He had been ordered to train since early morning, and he finally finished at night. He had wanted to limp back to his room, but he wasn’t allowed to show weakness, so he had straightened up and walked straight even though he had felt like his body was going to give out with every single step he took. As he headed to his room to take an ice bath, Talia had stopped him. He rarely ever got compliments, knew better than to expect them. They always had an ulterior motive on the rare occasions that he did receive them.

‘It’s a good thing you’re a good warrior. Your mother comes from a warrior race, did you know?’

He hadn’t, she knew that. They hardly ever mentioned his mother. He knew more about his father than her. He had known about the imbeciles his father trained, and of the reputation he had. Talia never hesitated in reminding him of that. He had known about his father’s hierarchy in Gotham as well as in The Justice League. However, when it came to his mother, they rarely ever brought her up. They had informed him when he had been five that his mother was next in line for the throne at Tamaran, her planet, and that he was royalty. He had also found out that his mother had been with one of his father’s adopted dogs when Ra’s al Ghul had mockingly laughed at the hilarity of the situation when he turned six. When Talia mentioned his mother's lineage, he had made the mistake of freezing mid step. She had scoffed, cruelly laughing when she noticed his error.

‘Do you want to see her, little prince?’

He had stared straight ahead, he hadn't wanted to make the same mistake in reacting in front of her, and giving her the satisfaction by seeing him fail to control his emotions.

She had mockingly walked in front of him, and as she kneeled to meet his eyes, she pulled out a piece of paper, teasingly waving it in front of his face.

'Look little prince, you have her eyes.’

He continued to stare straight through her, he wouldn’t- no couldn’t give in to his curiosity. He knew he wasn’t supposed to wonder about them, knew better than to ask. 

Talia’s smirk had faded, and she had glared at him, sneering. Talia was always cruel, she had her moments, but he knew better than to think of it as anything other than what it was: a manipulative tactic. They always tested him in any way they could. He wasn’t allowed to show emotions, wasn’t allowed to cry, wasn’t allowed to want. 

‘Damian, I’m ordering you to look at it.’

He hated her. Despised her for doing that. The one thing he always kept close to his heart, the one thing he always wanted to know more about were his parents. It was a curiosity that never disappeared no matter how much he wanted it too, no matter how much he trained, it was a constant thought in the back of his head.

He had bitten his tongue so hard when she ordered him to look, and as his eyes slowly lowered to the ripped newspaper she had in her hands, a metallic taste filled his mouth as shock ran through him. Her eyes… he had her eyes. Her hair was a long mix of dark and bright red, reminding him of fire. She had orange skin, and he couldn't help, but be astonished at how it seemed to fit her. On anyone else, he would consider them odd, but she looked… She looked beautiful.

He wanted to ask so many questions, the sudden need that filled him in those quick seconds had surprised him. He had wanted to rip the paper off Talia’s hand, the desperate urgency that had taken over made him want to kill her, just so that he could keep the picture with him. He tried to keep his face stoic, but she had seen the want in his eyes. Talia had harshly grabbed him by the chin, pulling him close as her nails dug into his skin.

‘Be careful, Little Prince. Your heart is showing.’

Talia had glared at him for a good moment before she roughly shoved him away. He had to deal with the sting that her nails left, and the burning sensation that filled his mouth as he walked back to his room. He may not have been able to keep the picture, but he memorized it in the few seconds that he had seen it. It’s the only glimpse he had of his mother within those seven years he was kept away from her. It’s one of the few things he cherished. 

When he was captured, it happened so fast. He felt disgusted that he allowed himself to let his guard down, just to relax in the few moments he was alone in his room. He had closed his eyes, immediately feeling a pinch on his neck. Everything seemed to slow down, and as his world was tipping on its axis, he had tried to fight off his attackers, but got knocked out by a hard punch to his head.

When he had woken up, every inch of his body had hurt in a way he’d never experienced before. It felt like his nerves were slowly getting electrocuted one by one, and when he slowly became aware of his surroundings, all he could hear was the faint sound of a small whine. When he opened his eyes, everything around him was blurry, and he had been dismayed to realize that the sound was coming from his body. 

Faintly, he heard the sound of a crash, but he hadn’t paid any attention to it because he believed that he was hallucinating. He tried to slowly maneuver himself out of the bed, but quickly realized that he couldn’t move, even if he gave it his all. As he had tried to focus, he noticed that the brown blur he had seen lying on his stomach, and the pressure he felt was due to being tied down to the bed by a rope. He had tried to concentrate on his surroundings, but whatever kind of neutralizer his kidnapper had given him was working.

As he struggled to become aware, the pain he was feeling increased by a tenth fold, and he realized that there was no way he was going to get out of this if he didn’t get help. He hadn’t been able to control the panic that hit him, and had begun to shiver from the pain when he heard the crunching sound that came from his right. His head snapped towards that direction, even though it felt like it was going to fall off, and that’s when he saw her. Even with his blurry vision, he had been able to make out the green in her eyes, and the red that surrounded her like a halo. As his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and as his vision went black, all he could think of was how fitting it was that he hallucinated her when he was suffering the most. 

He kept coming in, and out of his senses as the time passed. He felt the warmth that surrounded him when the firmness of the bed below him disappeared. Even though he was unconscious, he was still able to feel the small pinch on his left arm as a faded beeping sound suddenly surrounded him. The pain he felt when he had awoken was slowly going away as the sounds around him faded in, and out. The one thing he remembered very clearly was the soft warm touch he had felt on his forehead, the silent whisper of his hair being moved. He’d never been touched with such- such delicacy. 

All of his senses went away after that, and his consciousness sank completely until all he could see was black. He hadn't dreamt, never had. Dreaming meant getting distracted, dreaming meant desiring, and he has never been allowed to wish for anything.

Time seemed to slowly pass, and little by little, he became aware of his surroundings. The beeping sound became clearer as he slowly awakened. He had known better than to outright show that he was awake, to analyze what was around him first before he made a move, he had to see if this was another test. He knew that he wasn't allowed to fail, that he couldn't fail unless he wanted to get severely punished. 

He’d recognized that he was laying on a bed, and he quickly realized that the sound he heard was the sound of a monitor. The pressure that he had felt on his stomach was gone, and he knew that it meant that he was no longer tied to the bed, figuring that he was possibly back with the League. He felt a stiffness in his left arm, and quickly connected the dots that there could possibly be an intravenous line in his vein. The room felt cold, and he was thrown off when he realized that the softness that he felt on top of him were blankets. 

Normally when he was put in the medical ward with the League, they would never put blankets on top of him. He was used to waking up bruised, and cold after a rough day of training. He believed that this was a different kind of test, maybe one to let his guard down to confuse him before they attacked. He analyzed any other possible sounds around him before he opened his eyes, and he could only hear the faint sound of someone breathing to the left of him. 

He prepared himself by counting his breaths, and making sure to move his eyelids to give off the impression that he was in REM sleep, and focused on managing his pain enough to be able to move. He had enough energy to fight two, or three assassins if they attacked, but he quickly realized by the acute pain in his body that if there happened to be more than 3 assailants then they would be able to knock him out easily, and he would fail. He figured that he had a higher chance of escaping, and passing the test if he could manage to quickly hit their nerve points to knock them out.

He’d snapped his eyes open, and striked out with his right fist only to have his hand quickly grabbed, blocking the blow. His eyes had snapped up to meet his enemy's, and green eyes met each other.

Silence.

The only thing he could hear was the sound of the monitor increasing at a fast level. His body had frozen, shock filling his veins. She- His- She looked just as shocked as he did. When he breathed in, cinnamon and the faint whiff of mocha filled his nostrils. Her hair had gotten longer, compared to how it looked in the photo Talia had shown him, with waves cascading down her back, and he itched to see if it was as soft as it looked. Her eyes looked a bit swollen as if she had been crying, and the part that he always told to shut up, wanted to ask if she was okay.

He glanced down at their hands, and couldn’t help, but slowly open his palm to feel the heat of her skin.

At first, he thought he had finally succeeded in being able to dream, and instead of finding weakness in that, the small part that he kept well hidden was elated that he was able to dream of her. He may not have been able to see her in his real life, but he could see her here, and that was enough.

He can still remember their first conversation clearly.

He had been stuck staring at their hands when she had gotten up from her seat, taking a step closer to him. He couldn’t help, but be amazed that she was so tall. He’s always been prideful and strong, normally he kept control of his emotions, but in that very moment, he had wanted to let go of his pride and hug her. He wanted to surround himself with her smell, wanted to finally ask all the questions he had kept to himself all those years that he had missed with her, and yet he couldn’t move.

“Damian?” She had softly whispered.

His eyes snapped up to meet hers, her voice… her voice had been so soft, and had felt so real that he hadn't known how to respond.

He heard the doors behind him swish open, and his head had snapped towards it, ready to fight any upcoming enemy, ignoring the jolt of pain that went down his back, only for green eyes to meet blue eyes.

He dropped his hand from his- from hers as he stared at his… at him.  

Silence filled the room once again, and he noticed from the corner of his eyes that she tensed up when his- when he stepped forward.

“You’re awake. Good.” He had continued to walk forward until he reached the right side of his bed, and oddly, he seemed to awkwardly shift to the side as if he didn’t know how to proceed.

“Awake?” Damian had continued to think that it was all a dream. He couldn’t possibly be awake, he believed it to be a lie. There was no way that his parents were standing in front of him, it had to be a dream. The League would never permit this to happen, would never allow him to get this close to them.

“Damian, are you okay?” He slowly turned to stare at her again. He watched as she slowly raised her arm as if he were a scared kitten that could run any second, and he froze when she softly touched his forehead. She gently ran her fingers through his hair, getting closer to inspect him more. That touch… He’d never been touched so softly before. “Is your head hurting? Do you want me to call the Doctor? Do you-” She hesitated, “-remember what happened to you?”

“I was attacked.” He kept it small, and short. He hadn’t wanted to waste his dream talking about his failure. She’d cocked her head to the side as she stared at him, and he pretended he didn’t see the glance she shared with his father. 

His father, and his mother were standing right in front of him, and he was too busy dwelling on his thoughts to ask them all the questions he had. He didn’t have the time to dwell, he didn't want to waste it.

“Do you remember what happened after that? Do you- Do you know who we are?” His voice was deep and inquisitive, and Damian could feel the tension rise in the room after he asked that question.

“Of course, I do.” He snapped, irritated. “I was captured, and possibly tortured from how sore my body is, but I don’t have time for this. Time is already running short as it is, and I can’t waste it.”

All of his frustration had come out in a second, he had felt overwhelmed, and he hadn’t known how to control it. He had felt a creeping sensation go up his chest, and his throat had begun to tighten up. It felt like his heart was falling into his stomach. He couldn’t name the emotion that he had felt at that moment, he could only remember how quickly the lights began to blur. Too much was happening too fast. 

“Damian, what are you talking about?” His turmoil continued to grow at even higher levels after she asked that question, and he didn't miss the hesitant glance they shared as he bristled.

“This! Instead of wasting this dream, I want answers. They’ll wake me up, and I don’t have time to lose.” He straightened in his agitation, and he hadn’t been able to stop the hiss he let out as pain shot up his back again.

Silence. 

“Damian. Look at me.” His eyes snapped up to meet hers. Her voice had hardened, and all of his anger was subdued when he noticed the cold look in her eyes. She kneeled in front of him, and grabbed his face in her hands as she stared into his widened eyes.

“Damian, breathe.” She had grabbed his hand, putting it on her chest. “Do you feel this? Do you feel my heartbeat? Do you feel the warmth of my hands on your skin? This isn’t a dream, Damian. We were the ones who found you. Ra’s al Ghul told us everything, and from now on you are going to stay with us. I won’t allow you to go back with them, do you understand? I’ll kill them if they even try.” 

He hadn’t seen it, but he felt the air shift behind him, and instinctively knew his father had tensed up. He had been stunned into silence when she sent a menacing glare behind him after she finished her statement, as if daring his father to interrupt her. 

“I need you to save your questions until after you get a decent amount of sleep. You’re obviously in pain, and it would do you well if you gave your body some rest to heal up. Your father and I have to talk about some things, but we’ll be here when you wake up, okay? I promise.” 

“But I-” He stuttered out, frightened at the thought of losing them before he even got to know them. Dream, or not. 

“No buts, go to sleep. We’ll be here, Damian.” Her voice had softened again, and she gently pushed him back. His father continued to stand silently as she pressed the button on the side of his bed. He hadn't known what it was, but slowly, his vision began to blur again.

“I-I don’t wa-” He had slurred out, not even noticing that she had pressed the button again.

“Shhhh, it’s okay Damian. Go to sleep. We’ll be here.” Her voice had echoed in his head, the sight of them blurring out until all he saw was black.

He was surrounded by darkness. His entire body had become numb, making him feel like he had been floating on a cloud for hours. Parts of a private conversation creeped in, only he couldn’t figure out who was saying what, or if it was his imagination acting up. 

Little by little, his senses began to creep in.

‘I think it would be best if he stayed with you. It would do him well to adapt to all the different personalities that surround you there.’

He could hear the quiet rustle of clothes to the right of him.

‘Why did you say that?’

His throat felt dry, and he started to get annoyed by the beeping sound that the monitor let out.

‘I meant it.'

He felt like his brain was going to pop right out of his head, a migraine so big that he was hesitant to move. 

‘Are you going to train him?’

He heard a soft sigh to the left of him.

'He seems so small.'

He had already identified the smell of antiseptic, and bleach with an odd touch of cinnamon in the room.

‘Trust me if I had to pick someone to share this experience with, it certainly wouldn’t be you.’

The pain in his back felt slightly better, but he knew that he was definitely going to need to take painkillers for his head.

‘When is he going to develop them?’

The blankets that were on top of him felt softer than the other ones he had before, more warm. 

‘You already made your feelings clear.’

Even with the pain in his head, He felt… safe. It felt unnatural.

'What’s between me, and him does not concern you in the slightest. I’m not going to make the same mistakes I made when I was younger.’

Slowly, without his control, his hand twitched as he became more conscious of everything around him.

‘Don’t you, of all people, find it ironic?’

He let out a groan when he opened his eyes, and immediately closed them again when the bright lights of the room made his headache worse than it already was.

‘I’m going to find a place nearby.’

“Here, let me turn off the lights.” He heard a soft voice to his left say, before hearing them walk to the other side of the room, and the light he could still see, even with his eyelids closed, diminished. He heard another switch flicker on before they slowly walked back to their seat. The part of him that still believed it was all a dream relaxed. He recognized that voice. She was really there, and he quickly pinpointed the slight breathing to his right which meant that his father was there too. 

“Why am I hurting more than before?” He managed to whisper out as his eyes got acquainted with the soft dimness of the lamp in the corner of the room. As he slowly looked around, he realized that his blankets had been replaced by a dark red quilt.

“It was probably the adrenaline blocking it when you woke up. You had been ready to fight, and now that it dissipated, you are now fully feeling the pain in your body.”

Damian slowly moved his head to the right, immediately noticing that his father was no longer wearing his batsuit. He was dressed as a normal civilian, and he couldn’t help, but find it odd. His father was handsome, he had always known this, and his mother was beautiful too, but on the four occasions that Talia had shown him pictures of his father, he had only seen him with the batsuit on, or with a black tux on. 

“Damian, where are you hurting the most? My friend could come in, and heal you. Just tell me which parts of your body ache the most.” 

He felt like a weakling as his head slowly moved to the left. She had changed too, instead of her two-piece purple outfit, she was dressed in a white dress, free of her gauntlets. Her hair was slightly pulled back by what he assumed was a hair clip, and he noticed that her eyes were a bit sunken in, as if she hadn’t slept.

“I don’t need to be healed. I’m fine.”

Damian broke eye contact, and turned his head to stare ahead. He hadn’t liked that they had seen him like that, feeling small, and weak. He shouldn’t have been lying in a bed being coddled, if the League had seen him at that moment, if Talia had seen it, he would’ve been punished to the point where he would still feel it for months on end.

“Just seconds ago, you were asking why you were hurting more, and now you’re fine?” He heard the sarcasm in his fathers voice, and he could feel his face reddening all the way to his ears.

“I’m fine.” He spit out, and he tried to sit up. He had felt indignant, wanting to prove his worth, so that he wouldn’t come off as weak. His migraine seemed to worsen with each movement, but he ignored it, attempting to jump off the bed, even when his world began to slowly spin, until a hand firmly grabbed his shoulder.

“Enough.” His eyes had met hers, noticing that they had gone from soft to hard, and he struggled to shrug her hand off, attempting to ignore her stern voice, yet failing miserably.

“Enough, Damian. You’ve been asleep for 15 hours, your body still needs to rest to heal properly. If I have to ask your father to hold you down while I find my friend to heal you then I’ll do it. If you don’t want to be healed for some odd reason, just say that, but if you continue to act like this then I’ll ask her to heal you whether you like it, or not. I can see you trying to hold your flinch back, so lie back down, or I’ll go and find her right now."

He had huffed, glaring at her, refusing to move as they both maintained eye contact. She slowly cocked her head to the side, and raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him to argue with her.

“Well, which would you prefer?”

Her voice was clipped, and he clenched his jaw, continuing to glare at her, hating how hot his cheeks felt. 

“Alright then. Bruce, watch him. I’m going to go get Raven.” His mother had sent him a smirk, swiftly turning to walk towards the door as he stared in displeasure.

“I don’t want to be healed.” He blurted out before he could stop himself, feeling indignant.

Immediately, she spun around with an impish smile, and he frowned. “Well, that wasn’t so hard now, was it? Now, please lie back down. We have to talk to you about some things.”

He slowly lowered himself back to the bed, grumbling the entire time. His pride hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the fact that the jolting pain in his head lessened once he was lying down. She walked back to his left side, and gently covered him up with the quilt that he had shoved away during his fit. Her eyes had met his, and he still couldn’t forget the look he had seen in them. Her eyes had glazed over, freezing in place, breath catching. It wasn’t until his father grunted that her head snapped up, and the faraway look she had faded. 

“Damian, St- Ko-” He shifted on his feet as he sighed, appearing to be uncomfortable. “Your mother and I talked, and we think you should come live with me in Gotham.”

He wasn’t able to control his reaction, and his eyes snapped back to search hers. She softly smiled when she caught the alarmed look in his eyes, and hesitantly reached out to touch his hand. 

“Don’t worry, I’m going to look for a place there, so that I can be close. I’ll visit, and when you feel comfortable enough,” She slowly looked up to meet his fathers eyes, apprehensive. “You can come stay with me whenever you want to. I just have to find a place first, and get settled, but I’ll be there. Your father and I have been talking, and we've come to an agreement that I could visit whenever I want to check up on you. Whenever you want, just call me, and I’ll show up.”

He was… displeased by that, but forced himself to appear aloof. Deep down, he knew that he was upset that she wasn’t going to stay, but he pushed that thought to the back of his head, and pretended that he was indifferent.

“We’ve also discussed that it would be best for your mother to stay in one of the spare rooms when, or if, you have a difficult day. We know that you’re not used to this, and it will take time for all of us to get accustomed to everything, and we don’t want to push you too fast, nor too hard. A room will be prepared, so that she could stay on the days that you need us both.” 

The dismay he had felt dissipated a little with that statement. He slowly moved his eyes to the right, and as he stared into his fathers eyes, he noticed that a lot of the physical traits his father had, he had as well. Same hairstyle, same chin, same lips, same nose, the only thing that he didn’t get from his father were his eyes, and his skin color. He was a bit darker than his mother, but his eyes were an exact copy of hers. He wasn’t able to control the smugness that took over him when he realized that no one could deny he was theirs. He was their true blood heir, and no one could challenge that.

“You know, I thought you’d be taller.” He declared as he continued to stare into his fathers eyes. He smirked when he heard a snort to the left of him, and he focused on the eyebrow his father raised, and the slight twist of his lips. 

He hadn’t felt this relaxed since… never. Maybe when he was a babe, but he had no recollection of that. His entire life has been filled with calluses, cuts, and bruises. He’s never been allowed to lie back, and enjoy a moment. There was always something to do, always something to perfect.

He can still remember the sting in his hands when he had plucked a flower when he was four years old. He had just wanted to see the color patterns that a flower had, and Talia had harshly slapped his hands when she noticed that he was distracted. She had grabbed the flower, and squeezed it until all that remained were weakened petals, and a broken stem. 

‘What do you think you’re doing, Damian? This isn’t play time, you’re not a child. That’s beneath you. Grow up, and focus, or else.’

“Wait, what about the League? I can’t just leave, it’s prohibited. My training is important, I’m already catching up to most of them. Ra’s al Ghul will be-”

“Ra’s al Ghul won’t come near you if he knows what’s good for him.” The room felt colder, a sudden chill creeping up his spine. The fond smile that his mother had, and the warm glint in his father’s eyes, disappeared. 

“Your father, and I spoke to him,” Her eyes hardened, “and we all agreed that it would be best for you to stay with us permanently. He has already left while you were asleep along with his people. He has agreed that it would be in his best interest to cut communication with you.” 

He didn’t know how she could go from soft to hard within seconds. She was rigidly standing, and his eyes followed the odd flicker he was seeing from the corner of his eyes only to see that her hands had been flickering red as she spoke. He focused on them, becoming mesmerized by how her hands seemed to pull in the flames that were slowly appearing as she spoke. When she noticed that he was staring at them, the flames disappeared, and she fiddled with her hands before sliding them down her dress to move them behind her back to block his view. 

He looked to his right, and noticed how his father’s eyes had darkened to a dark blue, tightly clenching his jaw. He saw the way his father’s arms flexed behind his sweater, as if he was doing everything to control his reaction and not snap.

He had to ask, had to be prepared just in case.

“And I won’t get punished for this, correct?”

He didn’t think it was possible, but the room suddenly felt like it dropped below zero degrees. The snarl his mother let out had made him tense, and he hadn’t missed how his father’s fist clenched.

“What?” His father had bit out as he stood straighter.

Damian hadn’t known how to respond. By the way they were reacting, it seemed as if he had made a mistake, so he stayed quiet to see how he could proceed without causing any more anger.

“Damian, what did you mean by that?” His mother had given him a stiff smile as if she were trying to comfort him, and at that moment he truly believed that he was hallucinating because the ends of her hair seemed to light up like flames, making the room brighter.

He hesitated before responding, “Am I going to get punished for not remaining with the League? Is it because I let myself get attacked?”

“You didn’t let anything happen, Damian. You were taken by surprise, and that’s not your fault. There is no reason as to why you would get punished for that.” 

For the first time since he had awoken, his father inched closer, and grabbed his right hand. “Look at me, Damian.” His eyes snapped up to meet his father’s, still dumbfounded by his father’s touch. “We would never punish you for something like that. It was out of your hands. If anything, we're just glad that you’re here now.”

He stayed quiet, and analyzed his father. He wanted to see if he was telling the truth, and it seemed like his father had realized what he was doing because he relaxed his body, and maintained eye contact without blinking. He relaxed after realizing that he wouldn’t get punished, a sudden relief coursing through his veins, and his body sunk into the bed afterwards, not even realizing that his body had tensed up.

There was an awkward silence that hung in the air. His mother had still been tense, and his father just stared at her solemnly. 

“I want to continue my training.” He declared while staring at his father. He hadn’t wanted his progress to go to waste, and he wasn’t going to permit the other ones to get ahead. He was already better than them in every way as it was, but the competitive side of him wanted to prove his worth. He wanted to show his father that there was no need for him to have any other idiots by his side since he already had him. His father sighed, shoulders slumping, and his mother sent his father a smug look, clicking her tongue at him.

“Your father and I already talked about this, we think it would be best for you to get accustomed to the house, and everyone there first before we start your training. I figured that you would want to continue your training, so we still need to figure out a schedule. Both of us want to see how far you are, and then we’ll figure out the rest as we go.” 

“Everyone?” His displeasure was clear in his voice, and his father had given him an inquisitive look while his mother looked confused.

“Were you informed of your brothers?” His father asked, and Damian gave him a disgusted look.

“They’re NOT my brothers. I don’t need to meet them, nor get used to them. There’s no purpose for them anyway now that I’m here.” He snapped at his father feeling insulted that he had even dared to say that to him. His father had straightened, and glanced at his mother who had raised her eyebrows in shock at the spite heard in his voice. 

“Damian, you’re going to have to meet them. Whether you like it, or not, they are your brothers. They’re my sons, they may be adopted, but they will always be my sons. One of them lives at the house, the other two drop by when they want to. I know it’s going to take a while for you to get used to them, but it’s important that you accept that they will be in your life.” His voice was stern, and Damian scowled at him, feeling upset.

His mother had noticed his agitation, and cleared her throat to resume the conversation when she noticed that both of them were too busy glaring at each other.

“Um besides that, Damian, is there anything you would like for your room at the manor? I already told your father to order a couple of outfits in for the meantime, and then I’ll take you out to get more, so you can get what you want. Do you want a specific brand? Or color? Is there anything you would like?” 

“I don’t care, you can choose. I don’t need a lot, and I don’t need to go shopping for more.” He had still been irritated over what his father said. He didn’t want to meet any of them. He knew it was irrational, knew he had no right to be upset, but he didn’t like the fact that there were others. Especially others that had more time with his father than him. 

“Right. Shopping after it is.” His mother easily dismissed what he said, and as she looked up at his father, a strand of her hair slid forward, and touched his hand near the rail of the bed. 

“Bruce, what did Jon say? When did he say he’ll be ready to leave?”

Damian was pleased to realize that it was soft. He slowly turned his hand around, and grabbed the end of it as he marveled over how bright it was. His mother hadn’t noticed as she talked, and he ignored the urge to softly tug at it. 

“Within five days, they want to make sure his head is okay. If he’s fine then he’ll be allowed to leave, if not then he’ll possibly have to stay longer.”

He let go of her hair, and quickly turned to look at his father, ignoring the pain he felt. “No, I want to leave now.” He stated, not wanting to remain in bed any longer. Normally at the league, he would’ve been told to deal with his pain, and go back to training.

“Damian,” His mother sighed, and he cut her off. “I can take painkillers. I don’t want to stay here any longer.” He felt like he was being treated like a child, and his frustration grew.

“Damian, it would be best for you to stay here. You’re still in pain, and you don’t want to be healed, so you’re staying.” His father stared at him seriously, and he didn't like how small it made him feel. He tried to sit up again, but his mother softly pushed him back as she shook her head. 

“No, lie back down. I’m going to ask you one last time Damian. Do you want to be healed, and you can leave today? Or would you prefer staying for five days, and possibly more?” Damian clenched his jaw, and stared straight ahead, not wanting to give in. 

“5 Days it is!” His mother smiled brightly at him, and turned around, walking towards the door. “I’ll go, and tell Raven to not worry about it, get comfy Damian. You’re gonna be here for a while!” 

“Wait!” He called out before he could stop himself. “Hmm?” She spun around, and smiled at him, patiently waiting for him to go on. He bit his tongue, and ignored the smirk he saw grow on his father’s face.

“I could.. Possibly get healed.” He quickly mumbled out, and turned crimson when he realized it had come out so fast that it sounded like gibberish. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” She had playfully asked, smile widening. 

His father had leaned back, looking down at the floor, his smirk deepening. Damian hadn’t liked how cornered he felt, but he had known that the only way he would get out was by giving in. 

“I said that I would,” He slightly shifted, and avoided eye contact. “like … to get healed.”

His mother’s smile twitched as if she wanted to smirk, and he scowled. “Great! I’m glad you agreed. I’ll be right back.”

She quickly left the room as if afraid that he was going to take back what he said, and he was finally left alone with his father. He glanced at him, and immediately looked away when he saw that his father was already staring at him.

“Damian?” He looked up to see that his father had stepped closer, and was shocked to see the soft glint in his eyes. “I know that this was a shock to all of us, with us not knowing, and with you now staying with us, but-” He sighed, “but even with all that. I am glad that you’re here, I’m not happy about the circumstances, but you’re here now, and I’m…” He slightly fidgeted, uneasy. “I’m pleased to have you in my life now, and I may not be close to your mother, but I know she’s happy to have you here.”

He stared, unable to move. The part that he hid, the child in him, wanted to hug him. He wanted to feel his father close, wanted to feel connected to him, but he shoved that thought away. He hadn’t known how to respond to him, so he had been secretly glad when the door opened, and his mother stepped in with a violet haired woman by her side. 

The woman had slightly frozen when she had seen him, to the untrained eye no one would have noticed, but he did. He also noticed that the woman had thrown a quick glance at his mother who quickly walked back to his side.

“Damian, this is Raven. She’s a very close friend of mine, she’s going to heal you, okay? It’ll be quick.” 

His father stepped back to allow Raven through, and Damian stared at her warily. He didn’t trust her, he didn’t trust anyone. When she got closer, he had tensed up even more. His mother placed her hand on his arm, softly squeezing, and he looked at her to see that she was nodding at him as if telling him that he was in good hands. He relaxed as he continued to stare into her eyes, and he was so distracted that he didn’t notice Raven silently moving her hand above his head, or the soft white glow that appeared below it. He finally noticed when his body began to abruptly feel warm, and serenity replaced all the anxiousness he felt. The pain in his head, the soreness in his neck, the ache in his bones slowly faded away. He had never felt a feeling like that before. 

Normally his body would ache for days after training. He was never allowed to get healed, or get patched up unless he was extremely cut up, and severely bleeding. Usually he would just bear the pain, and deal with it. The worst part was that his body never had rest. After one soreness faded, another filled his body, and it was a continuous painful pattern. 

Once she finished, Raven had stepped back, and flashed him a smile, only it looked awkward and stiff. He tried to give one back, but it ended up looking like a grimace. His mother noticed the awkward exchange, and a chuckle slipped out without her control. Both of them looked up to glare at her, and his mother tried to hide her smile, but she  failed horribly. 

“Ahem, well… It was nice meeting you Damian. Kori, um call me,” She flashed him a glance, unsettled. “Call me once everything is settled.” Raven cocked her head, and gave his mother a look only for his mother to smirk back at her, and nod. Raven sighed, and shook her head. Damian looked at both of them, trying to decipher the meaning behind their looks. When his mother noticed the curiosity in his eyes, she smiled, and shook her head at him. 

“Are you going to say anything to Raven, Damian?” She asked while folding her arms, and raising her eyebrows at him.

“Um.. Thank you.” He had stated, showing no reaction to the disapproving tone in his mothers voice. Damian sent a firm nod to Raven, awkwardly showing his gratitude. Raven raised an eyebrow at his gravity, giving his mother another look, only for her to wink back at her with a cheeky smile. 

“Alright, I’ll be going back. Gar’s probably worried, I hurried here when you called, and didn’t tell him where I was going.” Raven sent a nod at his father, and his mother walked around his bed to grab Rachel’s hand.

“I’ll walk you out.” His mother tugged at Raven's hand, and guided her out. He ignored the quick glance Raven sent his way before the door closed, and silence filled the room again. 

“How are you feeling?” His father asked as he watched Damian’s body relax once the door officially closed. He noticed how Damian reacted to Raven, and solemnly knew he was going to have his hands full once he introduced Damian to all of the boys. 

“Good. My head doe-... Good.” Damian uttered, not wanting to show weakness in front of his father.

Bruce sighed, realizing that Damian’s pride was going to be an issue, and instinctively knew he was going to have to take painkillers before he introduced Damian to everyone to avoid getting a migraine. Deep down, Bruce refused to acknowledge that the painkillers were probably not going to work. 

“I’m going to go tell Jon that you were healed. I’ll fill out the papers to have you discharged.” Damian sent him a quick glance before looking above at the wall, wanting to tell him to not leave him alone, but he bit his tongue, and stayed quiet. 

His father stared at him, seemingly waiting for something until he shook his head, and started walking for the doors. Damian stared at the doors once they closed, hating the lonely silence that filled the room after his father walked out. 

He wasn’t prepared for this, he didn’t know how to act around them. A part of him was glad, but the other part was terrified. He knew everything was going to change, and while he wanted to act strong and nonchalant, Damian realized that things were going to be difficult. He had seen the cold interactions between his father and mother, the awkward tension that seemed to fill the room when they both looked at each other. He noticed the warm look that his mother gave him, but he also noticed the frosty look that quickly replaced that warmth when she looked at his father. He had also seen how his father seemed to somewhat relax every time his mother stepped out.

He closed his eyes, and focused on his breathing to relax when he heard the door open. He quickly sat up, ready to fight the intruder, only to see his mother frozen by the door. He immediately forced his body to relax, feeling frustrated for getting spooked so easily. 

“Damian,” She sighed, and started walking towards him. Once she was finally by his side, she hesitantly raised her hand, and he closed his eyes when she slowly ran her fingers through his hair. Her touch was warm, he never felt anything so warm, he felt protected just by her touch. He felt her get closer until her body touched the rails of the bed, and he finally gave into his desires without caring if he came out as weak, and leaned into her. She continued to run her fingers through his hair as she slowly used her other hand to pull him closer to her. For once in his life, he let himself let go of all of his self control, and he let himself get pulled in. He leaned his head on her chest, and she lowered her head on top of his, and they stayed like that. He felt comfortable with her, far more than with his father. It just felt easy to be by her side, like he was meant to be there. The silence no longer felt tense, nor awkward, nor cold. It just was. 

He felt at peace, and he used his hand to grab her arm to push himself closer. He felt her huff, and knew she was smiling. If his mouth slightly twitched then no one had to know. His head felt tingly, and he was slowly starting to feel drowsy. 

“Are you ready for your life to change?” She whispered, and he hadn’t been able to help it, but he smiled, feeling grateful that she seemed to understand how uncomfortable he was about the situation, and leaned further into her chest. 

“No.” He whispered back. She leaned back, and he slowly looked up to meet her eyes. She softly smiled at him, and moved his hair back. 

“Good.” She said, and slowly raised her eyebrows at his confused look. ”Neither am I.”

He smirked at her, and she laughed as she stepped back, letting him go.

“C’mon you’re officially allowed to get off the bed now. We’re going to wait for your father, then we’ll use the Zeta-Beam to go to Gotham.”

“Zeta-Beam?” Damian asked as he jumped off the bed, and stretched his legs out, feeling amazed that his entire body no longer hurt.

“It’s a teleporter. It’ll take us straight to the Batcave.” His interest was piqued as he folded the red quilt, not wanting to leave it behind, and put it in between his underarm as he followed his mother out of the room. He looked around, everything looked so clean, and organized. He spotted a man in blue with a red cape off to the side talking to a woman in red, and gold, both sending discreet glances at him. He pretended that he didn't notice them. He had immediately known who they were, the League had made sure to teach him of all potential enemies. He looked at his mother, and frowned when he saw that she was waving to a man that appeared to be half robot.

“Cyborg!!!” She happily called out, and smiled brightly when she saw him walking towards her.

“Little Lady, I was worried about you!” He grabbed her, and swung her around as she giggled. Damian frowned when he saw him grabbing her, he wanted to slap his arm off for even daring to touch her when she was clearly so above him. When Cyborg gently let her down, he glanced at Damian, and held his fist out.

“What’s up, little man. I’m glad you’re awake! Your mom was really worried.” Damian stood straight, and scowled, refusing to acknowledge him. Cyborg’s smile slowly faded, and he dropped his arm as he looked at his mother. Kori awkwardly chuckled, and grabbed Damian’s hand, sending an apologetic look at Cyborg. 

“I’m sorry, Cy. He’s just a little stressed; He’s not used to this.” 

“I’m not st-” Damian quickly shut his mouth when his mother glared at him, and he shifted on his feet as he went back to glaring at Cyborg. 

“Let’s go, Damian. Bye Cy, I’ll call you later, okay? Tell Karen I miss her, and that I’m going to have to miss girl’s night.” 

“Ugh, you’re just telling me to tell her, so that you don’t have to hear her yell at you.” 

“And I’m thankful you know me so well!” His mother gave Cyborg a side hug, and Damian grunted when his hand was tugged. Damian watched as Cyborg leaned in to whisper something in his mothers ear, and noticed how quickly she straightened. She stepped back, and gave her friend a strained smile, giving him a nod.

Kori tugged at his hand, and Damian let himself get guided, continuing to give Cyborg the death stare, ignoring the worried looks he was sending him. His mother was quickly walking towards a black door, but she stopped in her tracks when his father stepped out with a man in a blue and black uniform behind him. He focused on how rigid his mother became, and how she frowned before quickly replacing it with a bright smile, but by the strain of her neck, he knew it was fake. The man seemed to be in shock as he slowly followed his father out, and Damian tensed up once he realized who the man was.

“K-Kori.” The man croaked out as he stepped towards her, and Damian watched how she took a small step back, furrowing his brow. 

“Dick.” His mothers voice had a chill to it even with her smile, she slowly moved her head to the side, and her smile widened when she made eye contact with his father. Her eyes got darker, and she looked like she was seconds away from snapping. Damian watched as his father straightened, analyzing how he seemed to slightly freeze when his mother made eye contact with him. Bruce grunted, and looked down at Damian who was now scowling at Dick.

“Damian,” Bruce sighed, knowing that it was going to go downhill fast. “This is your brother, my oldest, Dick.” 

Damian scoffed, and looked at him haughtily. “I have no brothers. Last time I checked, I was the only one who had your blood.” 

Bruce sighed, inhaling deeply before shaking his head. Dick continued to stare at his mother who in return stared at his father, and then he shifted to look at Damian who narrowed his eyes, looking at him with distaste. He didn’t want to speak to him, let alone acknowledge that he was his father's son. He pretended he didn’t see the wounded look in Dick’s eyes when he stared at Damian. It only lasted a second, but he noticed it. He also disliked the way he stared at his mother, as if he was regretful. 

“Hello um Damian, I’m-” He glanced at Kori, and quickly looked away. “I’m Dick. I know that this may be hard for you, but I do hope we get-” Dick noticed how Damian bristled, and how he appeared to be seconds away from snarling. “... along.”

“I want to go.” Damian declared, frowning at his father.

“Da-” Bruce started, until his mother cut him off. “I think that would be best.”

Damian smirked at his father who frowned, feeling smug that his mother agreed. He knew by the stiffness in her shoulders, and how she seemed to stare straight through them, that his mother wanted to be anywhere, but there. 

“Kori, I-”

“Alright,” His mother exclaimed, cutting Dick off. “Time to go. I think it’s time for Damian to see his new home!” Damian noticed the hostile glare that his mother sent towards his father, who grudgingly nodded. 

Dick looked shocked, and when he opened his mouth, his mother cut him off again before he could even begin his sentence.  

“Bruce, did you notify Alfred?”

Damian smirked, feeling pleased that his mother seemed as uncomfortable as he was, even though he would never admit it. His father silently nodded, still frowning at his mother who glowered in response.

“It was nice to see you, Dick. Take care.” His mother had curtly stated while quickly walking towards the Zeta-Beam, making sure to not leave any time for conversation to continue. He followed, glancing back to see his father drop a hand to Dick’s slumped shoulders. Damian immediately looked away, ignoring the envy he felt. He saw a sudden blue light appear in the middle of what looked like an entrance, and his mother seemed to speed up, calling out to his father without looking back. 

“Bruce! Let’s go.”

Damian hesitated when they got nearer to the light, and his mother looked back to check on him. She saw his hesitation, and slowed down, squeezing his hand, as if reassuring him that everything was okay. She slowly walked towards the light, and stepped through it. His eyes closed when he followed, expecting to feel shocked by the light, but when he felt nothing, he opened his eyes to see that he was now standing in the middle of what he assumed was the Batcave. He heard a zapping noise behind him, and the sudden silent steps behind him meant that his father had crossed over as well. 

His mother was standing in front of him looking around, and he followed her example. It was oddly cold, there was a long path in front of him until it ended in the form of a circle. There were two large paths connecting to the sides of the circle, emphasizing how spacious it was, with screens in front, and he could see a chair in the middle. He looked up, and saw stairs leading up to a path filled with glass shields. In each shield, he saw uniforms lined up. Immediately, he noticed the robin costume, and frowned, finding it hideous and child like. He looked behind him, and noticed a black car parked all the way to the end of the path. He raised an eyebrow at his father who was already looking at him.

“I expected more.” He snarked. He looked back in front looking for weapons, and found none around. 

“Where are your weapons?” He asked, feeling curious as his father stepped beside him to look down at him, smirking. He didn’t know how he could manage to look so serious, yet smug at the same time. 

“Hidden.” Bruce couldn't help, but deepen his smirk when he noticed how Damian flushed, glowering at him. 

Kori clicked her tongue, smiling when she noticed that both father, and son looked mildly annoyed with each other, yet doing everything they could to not show it. Both extremely prideful, and stubborn.

“Where’s his room?” Bruce dropped the smirk, and glanced at Kori who was staring at him expectantly.

“Follow me.” His father began to lead his mother down the path, and Damian followed. 

Damian looked around as they walked. When they got closer to the screens, Damian noticed that there were multiple folders stacked on the counter, and when his father turned to the right, he noticed a door all the way to the end. When his father opened the door, there was a long narrow path all the way to the end that was shaped weirdly. His mother slowed, and pushed him forward, so that he could walk by his fathers side. 

“Why do you have the Batcave so close, seems kind of stupid if you ever get caught. What if your enemies followed you, and found out who you were?” Damian asked, not understanding his father’s logic.

“I have that covered, they wouldn’t be able to connect the dots. You don’t have to worry about my enemies. If they were to follow me, I would know.”

Bruce got to the end, and shoved it open for Damian to realize that they were standing a foot away from a lit room. Bruce stepped in, and as Damian followed, he was amazed to realize that the weird entrance was a Grandfather's clock. The room was spacious, there were bookshelves filled with thick books along the walls, and a main office table in the middle with a fireplace behind. It was a study, he realized as he heard the door close. He glanced behind him as his mother stepped around him to see that the grandfather’s clock was now in place with the wall. He looked closely to see if there was anything around it to indicate that it was a hidden door, but it appeared to be nothing, but a Grandfather’s clock. 

“Damian?” He looked to the side, and saw both of his parents patiently waiting by the door, expectantly staring at him.

He followed, and watched as his father stepped through the door while his mother waited until he was in front of her to close the door. As they walked, he looked around, noticing how elegant everything was. When his father walked down the stairs, heading towards the living room, he caught sight of an old, yet tall man standing in the middle, calmly waiting. By his attire, Damian quickly deduced that he was a butler. He observed how the old man’s eyes widened when he saw him, seemingly shocked before quickly sending a fascinated look at his father. 

“Damian, I want you to meet Alfred. Alfred Pennyworth. He’s… He’s family, and he knows about everything.” His father had given Alfred a look, and Alfred had sent one back. 

“Master Bruce and,” He sent a delighted smile behind Damian, eyes softening. “Princess Koriand’r! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, you’re as beautiful as you’ve always been.” 

His mother smiled, and walked past Damian to give Alfred a warm hug.

“Alfred! It has been a while. I know that these are… circumstances neither of us expected, but I am glad to see you.”

“As am I, Princess.” Damian watched how the butler seemed to analyze him, and he denied the urge to fiddle with his hands. He maintained eye contact as the butler stepped forward to bow. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Damian. I am at your service.”

Damian made a show of looking around, not acknowledging him. He looked back at his father, and opened his hands in front of him. 

“Where are the other servants?” 

Alfred raised an eyebrow, and stared him down. “I am the sum total.”

Damian looked back at him, and scoffed. “Are you serious, you only have one servant?”

“Damian!” Both his mother and father exclaimed, only for them to glance at each other, quickly looking away. 

“Damian, he’s not a servant. He’s family.” His father said as he observed how unimpressed Damian looked. 

“Master Bruce, I know you expected to have him here, but Master Tim seems to have stepped out when you called." Alfred said, dismissing Damian's comment, as he spun around to notify his father who merely gave a firm nod as a response. Alfred turned back around to give his mother an appreciative smile.  

"Would you like a drink, Princess?” Alfred asked his mother, and she affectionately smiled at him, nodding. 

“Let me go with you. Damian, do you want anything?” His mother asked as she started to follow Alfred out to the left side of the room into a hallway.

“No.” He shook his head, and looked down at his feet. 

“Alright.” She frowned, and continued out the door.

Silence filled the room, and Bruce analyzed how uncomfortable Damian seemed to be in his presence. He had seen how Damian appeared to only relax when his mother was near, and how he seemed to quiet down, and tense every time she left. He bit his tongue to control the sudden envy he felt towards her. It seemed to be so easy for her to deal with Damian while he was already exhausted with how everything was going so far, and he knew it was going to get worse before it got better, especially since Damian only seemed to relax when his mother, whom he did not get along with, was nearby. 

“You don’t have to be rude, you know? Alfred isn't a servant, he’s… He’s special.” Bruce slightly stepped forward as Damian furrowed his brows, continuing to stare down at his feet. When he opened his mouth to reply back, he heard steps going down the stairs and tensed up.

“Geez, don’t tell me you adopted another one? Are you going to screw this one up too, Bruce?”

His fathers head snapped up, and Damian spun around to see a man with white streaks in his hair, all in black, going down the stairs. 

“Please, it’s like a vice for you Bruce. You just keep getting more and mo-” The man froze when his green eyes met Damian’s. Damian stepped back as the man slowly analyzed him. He didn't like the strange look that appeared in the man’s eyes the longer he stared. Damian grabbed the quilt closer when he saw how rigid the man became when he noticed the red quilt in Damian’s arm.

“Alfred made you some hot coc-” His mother stepped into the room, looking down at the mugs in her hands with Alfred behind her, and when she glanced up, she froze when she made eye contact with the man.

Damian didn’t like how his mother stepped forward as she looked at the man, or the look of astonishment the man gave her. He also hadn’t missed the apprehensive look that his father had while glancing at them. 

“Mother?” Damian asked, and didn’t miss how the man’s head snapped to stare at him in confusion when he said the word. His mother snapped out of whatever charm she had seemed to be in, and started walking towards him to hand him his mug. He frowned at her, and she narrowed her eyes, silently ordering him to drink it. He huffed, and took a slow sip, mindful of the heat, and controlled his features to not express how pleased he was with the taste.

“Mother?!?” The man exclaimed, and Damian watched how his mother sent a concerned glance towards the man. He didn’t miss the stiffness in her body, as if she was doing everything she could to not walk towards him. 

“Jason. We need to talk.” He heard his father say behind him. Jason, Jason Todd. Damian scrutinized him, he had heard of him from Talia. Ra’s and her never hesitated in mentioning that his father’s second son was an amazing fighter, and how they regretted not forcing him to stay with the League when he was resurrected.

“Princess, I’ll lead you two to Master Damian’s room to help him get settled.” Alfred cut in, knowing Bruce wanted privacy, and started walking towards the stairs. His mother started following, with Damian behind her, and Damian took notice of how she leaned into Todd's arm when they walked past him, nor did he miss how he leaned into hers as well. He was dismayed by how Todd seemed to stare at him in wonder when he walked past him. In response, Damian had given him a frosty look.

Damian looked around the hallways as they walked, observing the various amount of doors in the house. His curiosity piqued, and he clenched his hands to prevent himself from opening all the doors, and learning all the possible secrets his father could have. Alfred made a turn to the left, opening a door to another hallway, and calmly walked to the last door on the right. He vaguely heard Todd's question before the door closed behind him, and his mother seemed to walk faster once she heard it too.

“Why the hell does he look like you? And why the fuck did he call Kori his mother?”

“I hope this isn’t too cramped for you, Master Damian.” Alfred opened the door to a very large bedroom. Damian stepped inside, and silently marveled over how big the room was. When he was with the League, his room had been small. Efficient, but small.

“The door to the left is your closet, and the door to the right is your restroom. Princess, I already called in the outfits you had told Master Bruce to get for Master Damian, they should be arriving within half an hour, or less. The door in front of this room is your room to stay in when you feel like it. I will go, and prepare it for you. Welcome Home Master Damian, I hope you enjoy your stay here.” 

“Thank you, Pennyworth.” Damian grudgingly replied when he had seen the scolding glare his mother had sent him when he stayed quiet.

“Thank you, Alfred. You’re too kind, you don’t have to prepare the room. I can do it.” His mother stopped talking when Pennyworth shook his head at her, a fond smile on his face.

“Don’t worry about it, Princess. I’ll be back in a while, please drink the cocoa and relax.” Alfred walked out, softly closing the door behind him. Kori sighed, and glanced down at Damian, smiling when she noticed the intrigue on his face as he continued to look around. 

“Here,” Kori said as she grabbed the quilt that he was still tightly gripping with his right arm. She walked over to the bed, put her mug down on the lamp table, and spread the quilt out until it covered most of the bed. She sat down on the floor by the lamp, and softly patted the spot beside her, calmly staring at him as she grabbed her mug. Damian followed, and sat next to her. She leaned her head back against the bed, and sighed. 

He took advantage of the time, and stared at her in awe. He spent all of his life wondering about her, knowing that the League would refuse to talk about her if he dared to ask. He had always wished for this moment, even though he had been prohibited to ever wish for something, to have her close, and he didn't want to waste it. Her long hair was touching the floor, yet she didn’t seem to care. He quietly breathed in, wanting to take in her scent. He could smell cinnamon and mocha, and he knew it wasn’t coming from his mug. He quietly, yet slowly, moved in closer to her, and bit back a smile when her smell surrounded him. She had a small beauty mark near her lips on the left side of her face, and he could see a small bruise on her left shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” She softly asked, and he looked up to meet her eyes, and quickly looked down at his cocoa. 

“I’m fine.” He declared, noticing that his cocoa had small marshmallows in it. He heard her sigh, and felt her slightly slouch forward.

“Damian, I can’t help you if you don’t let yourself get helped. Just tell me how you really feel, I won’t tell anyone. It’ll be between you and me, I promise,” He stayed quiet, contemplating. “and I won’t punish you if that’s what you fear.” His widened eyes snapped up to meet her solemn face. 

“I won’t ever lay my hands on you, Damian. You can tell me how you feel without hesitation at any given time.” He continued to look into her eyes, trying to see if she was lying. When he saw the pure honesty in them, he finally relaxed completely. He looked down at his mug again, and slowly raised it to take a sip. The warmth of his mother's body, and the heat of the cocoa made him feel cozy, and oddly child-like, innocent. The silence between them felt comfortable, there was no pressure, nor anxiety, nor fear, or frustration.

“I’m not ready for this.” He whispered, not wanting to speak louder out of fear of someone listening in. “I never thought I would be here. I was always told that my existence would remain a secret, and that I would never be allowed to see you, both of you.” 

He watched as she took a small sip of her mug, her hair slowly sliding in front of her, shielding her eyes from his as she stared at her lap.

“And now,” He sighed looking away, trying to find the words. “Now I’m here, and I have to deal with them. I know how my father works, Talia always told me of his moralistic self-imposed rules. I-I don’t… I’ve never followed those rules. What if he thinks I’m not good enough simply because I have blood on my hands? What if I’m not like them?” He looked down to see his fingertips were white from how tightly he was gripping his mug, and loosened his hold. He saw the calluses on his hands, and from the corner of his eyes, he looked at hers, and noted that she had some as well. It was weird, when he had held her hands, they had been soft, and yet they were full of proof of her efficiency as a warrior. It sent a thrill of pride up his spine seeing that, knowing that both of his parents were well known fighters. 

His mother let out a dry chuckle, and she leaned further back as she stretched out her legs. “Do you want to know something?” His mother looked at him with a sweet, but small smile as she shuffled closer to him till their shoulders were touching. He raised an eyebrow at her, and sent her a piercing look, struggling not to show the curiosity he was feeling.

“Look at my hand.” Her left hand let go of the mug, and she moved it, so that he could have a closer look at it. Her nails were painted red, and the veins that popped out made her hand look even more elegant with the silver ring on her middle finger.

“Do you see how my index finger is shorter than my middle finger? Or how my ring finger looks a lot like my index finger, and yet it seems to be a centimeter longer? I don’t have to mention how my pinky, and thumb are smaller than all of them. They all come from the same hand, and yet they’re all different. One finger has more lines than the other while another finger can have a deeper indent than the others. Your father can have all the kids in the world, and all of you would have different personalities, different likes and dislikes, different desires, and different methods. Your father…” She sighed, pursing her lips. “Your father has his methods, and he may not understand yours, but I do know he’ll try to. He can be strict, and a complete hardass when he wants to be, but he does try in his own way. Besides that, he has another son who completely dismisses his rules and does things his own way, and yet your father still loves him, so you don’t have to worry about that.”  She dropped her hand, and Damian looked down, afraid to look at her while he asked his next question. 

“What about you?” He heard his mother shift slightly, “What about me?” She tilted her head, sending him an inquisitive look. 

“What do you think of my… of my methods?” He refused to make eye contact with her out of fear of seeing disgust in her eyes. 

He looked at her in shock when she laughed loudly, hair falling back as her shoulders shook. Slowly, her laughter stopped, and she stared at the wall as her smile faded until all that remained was a lost look. She shook her head, and looked down.

“Damian, you never have to worry about me judging you in that department. Between you and me, we’re a lot alike.” She looked at him, and sad green eyes met curious ones. “I was just like you, at your age, a mere child with blood on my hands. I did a lot of… unspeakable things before I arrived on Earth. It pains me to know that you didn’t get to experience a childhood like me. That your normal was full of pain, and blood just like mine. I… struggled a lot when I arrived on Earth. I was used to bloodshed in many ways, and it took a lot for me to get used to the rules that society put on humans. It caused me a lot of issues in… it just caused a lot of issues. The good thing though is that you have me to fall back on, he may not understand how difficult it’s going to be for you, but I will.” She leaned back, and ran her fingers through his hair as he stared at her in awe, but he was still curious over what he had seen.

“Can I ask you something?” She cocked her head to the side at his question, and smiled at him encouragingly.

“That man… Todd, who is he to you? I saw the way you two looked at each other, and how he reacted when I called you mother? Are-” He shifted feeling uncomfortable, grimacing. “Are you two close?”

He didn't miss the way she tensed up when he said Todd, or how she seemed to be out of words. 

“Jason…” She looked down, and smiled softly. “Jason and I are... friends.”

She gave him a playful smile at his disbelieving one, and softly tugged at his hair before he batted her hand away. She laughed when he huffed, frowning.

“Right.” He deadpanned. 

She opened her mouth, and was cut off by the door opening. When he looked to the side, annoyed with the interruption, he frowned when he saw Alfred standing by the door with bags in his hand. His mother put down her mug on top of the table, and stood up to walk up to Alfred.

“Princess, the clothes have arrived. I also brought a towel in case Master Damian would like to shower.” 

“Thank you, Alfred.” His mother had given Alfred a bright smile, and looked behind her to give him a stern look. He sighed, and stood up to walk by her side. He glared at him, and didn’t miss the unimpressed look the old man gave him.

“Thank you, Pennyworth.” He made sure to show his displeasure with his tone as his mother narrowed her eyes, lips pressed together in displeasure, and he avoided eye contact with her when she made a noise of exasperation. 

“I also bought this just in case you, or Master Bruce, would like to take him out.” Alfred said as he extended his hand out in a fist, and opened it to show a black metal ring.

“I don’t know your exact ring size, but hopefully I got it correct.”

“What is that?” Damian asked as he grabbed the ring to examine it. It looked like a normal ring, so he didn't see the importance of it.

“It’s a holographic ring, it makes the wearer appear more human-like. I must say you look just like your father, but you have your mothers eyes, and that will certainly raise questions.”

Damian had given his mother a glance, and she had sent him a nod of encouragement. He tried it on his index finger, but it didn't fit until he put it on his middle finger. He hadn’t felt anything, so he had sent his mother a confused look when he saw that she had raised her eyebrows, lips twitching into a smile, seemingly amused.

“When I wear mine, my eyes look just like that too.” He sent her a bewildered look, not understanding what she meant by that, so she gently pushed him in the direction of the bathroom door. 

When he entered, he was shocked to see that the restroom appeared to be just as big as his bedroom. His mother guided him to stand in front of the mirror, and he stepped back in shock when he saw that his sclera was no longer a bright green, but white. His irises were still green, but the color seemed to dim a bit. He watched as she grabbed her ring on her left hand, and used her finger to slightly swipe it to the right. Her eyes started to dim in front of him, and he watched in shocked silence as her sclera turned white, eyes focusing on how her orange skin began to darken until she looked tan instead of her usual color, and he stepped back when he noticed that her bright, red hair had faded into an auburn color. She smiled when she saw the befuddled look on his face, and guided him out of the door to see that Alfred was still standing by the door, patiently waiting for them. When he looked to the side, he saw that Alfred had laid out all the clothes, plus the towel, on the bed while they had been in the restroom.

“Thank you, Alfred. Really. I was thinking of taking him out tomorrow to go shopping, so I’m glad that you prepared this ahead of time.”

“Of course, Princess.” Alfred had turned to give him a glance, sending him a nod.

“Master Damian, if you need anything, just call out my name.” Damian had slowly given him a nod in response, still shocked by his mothers changed appearance. Alfred gave his mother a reassuring smile, and stepped out. 

“How does the ring withstand your starbolts?” He asked, turning to look at her.

“It’s not real silver, it just appears like it. When The Justice League had been created, they all realized that metahumans needed to blend in during special missions, so they created these rings, or in other cases necklaces, and different types of Jewelry to help us blend in with humans. They had to do a lot of experimenting seeing as some metahumans have abilities with severe cold, or heat conditions like mine. Mine works by me touching it, and moving my finger to the right. When I want to go back to my normal appearance, I swipe it to the left, or I simply take it off.”

“I don’t like it.” He stated, missing her original look, glaring at the ring on her finger.

She snickered, looking up. “No, I didn’t think you would.”

“Wait,” He waited until she looked down to stare at her in the eyes, wanting to see if she would be honest with his next question. “When will I get my Powers?” It had always been something he had been curious about, the League had always waited for him to develop his abilities each birthday only to get disappointed each year. His mother became rigid in seconds, and her eyes hardened. 

“We’ll leave that for another day, Damian. Why don’t you go take a shower, I’m going to step out for a moment. When you were asleep, I had spoken to a couple of real estate agents around here, and I want to see if they found anything nearby.” He knew that she was changing the subject, and he wanted to push for more answers, but he didn’t like the panicked look that she had in her eyes, so he slowly nodded. 

She gave him a tight smile, and tried to step out until he quickly grabbed her hand. “You’re not going to leave, right?” He tried to keep the worry out of his voice, and he cursed himself for showing his vulnerability. A distressed look appeared on her face, and she grabbed his shoulders when she kneeled down to meet his eyes. 

“Of course not. I’m not going to leave Damian, and if I do leave for whatever reason, I’ll tell you. I promise. Go ahead, and take a warm shower. Relax, okay? I’ll go tell Alfred to prepare you a meal, alright?” She ran her fingers through his hair, and he closed his eyes, feeling comforted by her touch. "You must be hungry, is there anything you would prefer?”

He silently shook his head, and looked down at his feet before he asked, “Will…” He flexed his jaw, “Will you… Will you eat with me?”

She gave him a soft smile, and nodded. She stood up, and walked over to his bed to pick up the towel. 

“Here, now go. I’ll come back once Alfred is done to take you to the dining table, do you…” He watched as she grimaced, and frowned. “Do you want your father to be there as well?” 

He nodded, and his brow furrowed when he saw how strained her smile became. She gently pushed him towards the restroom, and softly closed the door behind him once he was in. 

He had taken advantage of his shower, and had stayed longer under the hot water in an attempt to control his nerves. Once he believed himself to be in control over his emotions, he stepped out. Now he was here, waiting patiently for his mother to come get him as he continued to analyze the room. 

He vaguely wondered how her room looked, and if it was as plain looking as this one was. He heard his stomach growl, and huffed, not wanting to give in to his curiosity, and go looking for the kitchen. He turned around when he heard the creak of the door being opened, and saw his mother waiting by the door.

"Let's go, I hope you like Lasagna. Your father is downstairs with Alfred waiting for us. Jason already left, and you don't have to worry about meeting Tim tonight. He left to go stay at a friend's house." She held her hand out, patiently waiting, and he walked over without hesitation, and grabbed it, letting himself get guided out the door.

As they walked through the hallway, Damian relaxed, feeling an odd sense of comfort at the prospect of eating with his parents. He has no idea of how things will turn out, or if he, or his parents, will be able to handle all the changes that are going to occur in their lives, but he was interested in seeing the possible outcome that may come out of all of this. 

He wasn't looking forward to having to deal with all of his fathers strays, but as long as they stayed out of his way, he'd be fine. 

For now, he was just content knowing that he finally has both of his parents in his life, and by his side.