Chapter Text
Damian’s relationship with his family was not problematic. Following Alfred’s passing, things between him and his siblings were rather okay. Mediocre C. Thursday. Right in the middle really. And you can’t truly blame them either; they had a life that Damian was not a part of. And to be fair, so did Damian. It had been a year of living alone in this haunted house, with a father whose but a shadow of a man and siblings who scarcely visit. At the end of the day, this is how things were.
However empty and unfulfilling the life he lived now was, it was his life. Damian had found a sort of sanctuary in this purgatory. Which is why, you cannot blame him, in any capacity, for what he did with Timothy.
It was one of those rare family dinners at the penthouse. The manor being a place no one in the family had been able to convince themselves to visit. Everyone was there, except Timothy. Father and Richard were having a casual conversation which seemed to be on the verge of turning serious. Todd was messing with something on Thomas’s phone while preventing him from reaching it, his older brother had made it a mission to make family gatherings unbearable for everyone.
Cassandra and Brown were giggling in the corner. Gordon had skipped out on the past few family dinners, she claimed it was because of her busy schedule but Damian had strong suspicions that it had something to do with the Tamaranian princess currently sharing an apartment with his oldest brother but he’d rather not gossip. Other than him, everyone blended into a picture perfect family. In fact, if Selina Kyle barged in from the front door and flaunted an engagement ring in front of him right now, Damian would curse his ancestors and feel no surprise.
The family was happy. The cracks were there, the wounds were too deep to not scar but all of them liked each other. And that likeness did not include him.
His father finally shut down the conversation with Richard and looked at everyone, “Tim’s going to be a bit late and I fear Selina won’t be able to come, she’s sick.”
Next to him, Jason snorted while Cassandra hid a visible smile.
“And this mysterious sickness is unrelated to the unarmed robbery at Winston St. last night? Mrs. Winston was very hurt by the loss of her favorite diamond necklace, you know.” Richard stated, raising an eyebrow. It wasn’t disapproving as much as it was teasing. A clear— you hypocrite— directed at their father.
They must’ve fought then. It's the circle of life for their relationship, both of them hold reservations towards Gotham’s aristocracy but neither Batman nor Catwoman would ever agree to each other’s contingencies. Catwoman was Robinhood with a little compartment of self service and Batman was an anti establishment cowboy. They’d never see eye to eye.
“The same fuckass necklace she got after clearing out Hamptons?” Jason asked and then rolled his eyes. “Oh please! Fuck that bitch and her family, Park Row’s riddled with families lookin for homes n shit.”
“I’m guessing a new building would be there for them soon,” Duke said, not really caring about it. And Jason muttered a very performative “Bless her heart”
Bruce sighed loudly, the creases of eyes tilting, “This is not an appropriate topic for family dinner.”
As if on cue, in an attempt to save everybody from a loud argument ensuing, Damian heard the sound of two pairs of distinct footsteps. Huh. Interesting.
Damian looked up from his meal, putting aside the fork he had basically spent the whole time toying with— he should consider getting chopsticks really— and looked up at their intruder while the family of detectives with razor sharp hearing also stopped at the unexpected second person.
Timothy Drake, a family’s equivalent of a teacher’s pet, in all his glory. He looked uncertain. Small —which is strange because unfortunately Timothy still has a foot on him— in a way that his being melted with the rest of the room.
Tim Drake was a twenty three year old CEO of one the world’s biggest conglomerates, and currently he was holding the hand of some boring blonde male Barbie looking as if he’d faint any second. The blonde, who Damian had already deemed unlikable, (because why else would his proximity make Damian’s usually charismatic, overconfident and annoying older brother appear so defensive) looked at Timothy like the raven haired man had hung the moon and the stars and created all things good.
Disgusting.
Father was the first to get up, pulling Timothy into a type of hug he reserved for his children. His real children. Damian felt a burst of yearning in his chest. Father had never hugged him so casually before. Then, father shook Bernard’s hand, clearly confused.
“Hello, eh Bernard Dowd right? You resemble your father.” The Brucie Wayne persona seemed to have appeared in an instance. If the Waynes hadn’t witnessed the whiplash of this transformation a million times too many, all of them would've had their mouths gaping at Batman taking the food and gift bags away from Bernard’s hands and beckoning him to sit down. To Damian, who most often experienced the most formal version of Bruce, it was jarring.
Bernard frowned, surprised at being recognised
Father smiled, strangely soft “I worked with him, he helped WE settle an environmental dispute a long time ago. You would’ve been younger than Damian.” He looked at Bernard and the hand clasped between Tim’s and sent an intrigued look his way. “C’mon now, those things can be discussed later. Lets get you a plate— Chum set one up for our surprise guest.”
He cast a pointed look at Timothy who looked absolutely nauseous now.
Everyone began to settle in, Drake sitting right beside father and dumb blonde next to him. Richard looked the most constipated at the new arrival, so Damian guessed he knew whatever the fuck was happening. Damian would just really appreciate eating his lasagna— that he travelled ten miles to get from that stupid restaurant Richard liked so much that didn’t deliver. And no one had even bothered to mention it. Not only did he have to wait two hours in line because he refused to use the Wayne card for premium services, he then also had to be admonished for not just ordering at home. As if he didn’t think of that bright idea, wow Batman, ground breaking really.
“So,” Father began, everybody collectively ignoring the elephant in the room. “How has everyone been?”
“We’ve been here for an hour.” Jason said and Richard glared at him.
“Two hours.” Cassandra corrected and well, nobody had the heart to glare at her “And good.” She then switched to sign “Might have to leave town soon.”
After she finished, an awkward silence took over the room. Damian’s own skin felt prickled by the emptiness but he knew better than to talk. Unfortunately, Richard did not, “Kori and I were thinking of taking a—“
“Shut the fuck up Dickhead, everybody and their grandmother knows you and Star are living together. And do we really have to do small talk? We all hate small talk.” Said Jason, looking increasingly done with everyone’s bullshit. It was one of those rare things that Damian could tolerate about him. Then he proceeded to kill all the goodwill, “Replacement, is your type blonde.”
Stephanie coughed, “What the fuck man who says that? Not cool dude.”
“Bite me blondie.”
”Oh you son of a bitch you’ll wish that’s all I’ll do to you”
Timothy clears his throat. . And Damian was almost lost in that haircut. Really did he pay a stylist to fuck it up on purpose? A drunk toddler could’ve done it better, which was definitely how bad it was and not a projection of Damian’s inner dejection. “This is Bernard. He’s not my friend.”
Richard interjected—“Tim kid you don’t have to say anything you don’t—“
“It’s fine. I want to. Everyone, Bernard and I are dating. We’ve been dating for eight months. I’m bisexual which means I like men as much as I like women. I’m very happy in this relationship, he makes me a better person and,” Tim looked at Bernard and squeezed his hand, then proceeded to make eye contact with everyone ,”and I love him, a lot. He completes me and he makes me a better person and I really really need you all to be okay with this.” His voice completely breaks in the end and he curls into himself. “If that’s a problem, I— we’ll have no problem with leaving.”
Well
That’s not what Damian thought Todd’s comment was about.
“Does anyone have any questions?” Timothy continued,
“We don’t.” Todd said frowning,
Timothy blinked. The tension at the table felt like it could be cut with a knife.
“Well except me I guess,” Stephanie elbowed him, “I have normal questions and by the way Steph, that really hurt. Anyway Bernard— really, Timothy Jackson Drake? Is that the best you think you can do? I promise ya there’s a much bigger market out there. We gotta send this one to therapy next Dick.”
That seemed to do away with the tension, laughter returned to the table and even Drake let out a smile.
Father smiled, strained and confused. “I’m glad you told us.”
He clasped Timothy’s shoulder with one hand. It was one of the gentle gestures you only see parents do to their children. A stranger to Damian. In a way, the world belonged to his father and his child. Child, as if that was what Drake was to him. Although Damian would never admit it, that moment had felt like seeing your dream through a window in the streets. The little matchstick girl who dies of cold. And not a soul who dares to utter her name.
(And child, wasn’t that was Damian was?)
“That’s it? You don’t want to say anything else? You don’t mind?” Small. Terrified. Vulnerable. Something inside him burned. It was ugly.
“Tim, you are my child. You have been my child since the first time I looked into your eyes because I knew then that I would protect you with my life.” To ruin a good moment Jason snorted. “And I know that I failed at that, don’t make that face— I made Jack a promise— one I haven’t kept very well. But kid, I’ve seen you, every single part of you, for as long as I’ve known you. And for what it’s worth I’ve known this too.”
Drake raised an eyebrow, “Huh, I don’t—“
Bruce’s eyes were kind. That was not the father Damian knew. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m proud of you more than I can explain with words and Bernard, welcome to the family” Bruce raised his glass up high and the family followed suit. Damian just fumbled with his food again. “Here’s to you, son.”
Richard got up and wrapped his arm around Timothy, an awkward angle trying to hug his little brother. “I told you he’d be happy.”
Cassandra smiled. “Little brother is good.” She looked at Drake, “Be kind to him.” She told Bernard
“So who damned Bernard to eternal suffering? Like who asked out who.”
“Fuck off Jay.” Timothy said annoyed, but Damian could see the tears in his eyes
Phenomenal.
What a spectacle.
Damian rolled his eyes, really drake? As if father would ever have a problem with anyone's sexuality. And everyone saw the mullet Richard had as nightwing initially and oh that gaudy blue colour wow, as if walking disco ball had any intentions of being homophobic.
The amount of time Jason Todd had spent sharing an apartment with Roy Harper was a testament in itself even if nothing ever came of it. And let's not even begin talking about the fact that Damian had once seen Brown usher herself into Cassandra’s room for three nights in a row. Why Cassandra, the stealthiest member in the family, wasn’t the one doing the sneaking around was beyond him. The other members would probably not be homophobic, if they were at least not somewhat on the queer spectrum themselves
Whatever though, who has ever cared about logic in this family, Damian who's been unjustly benched for well over a month now couldn’t answer that for the life of him.
Just get through the dinner, Damian. Just this dinner.
As usual, he doubts the family noticed that he hadn’t said more than five words the entire time,
The family notices how quiet Damian remained throughout the dinner. That’s the memory of him Dick takes home. The silence from his end was deafening. Dick could see how often Tim would look his little brother’s way and wait for something to be said, only to be disappointed in response. It frustrated Dick, because he thought they were making progress but after what happened with the new Teen Titans, he wasn’t surprised.
Look, Dick loves the kid like Damian’s his. In a way, Damian will always be his child. But the kid was going off the bender recently and his attitude wasn’t something dick was interested in handling anymore. He gave that duty to Bruce. It killed something inside him to walk out that day, but he did. He can’t fix things for Damian anymore. This was no longer his job. Or his right, a quieter part of his mind reminds him
The first person he calls his Kori, someone Tim had given his permission to tell about Bernard a while ago.
“Hey.” He says. Silent. Dejected.
He hears the gentle smile even though he doesn't see it, “It didn’t go well, did it?”
“It’s not that it didn’t go well. You know how it is, everyone has opinions. But mostly it was good, it’s less to do with Tim being with a boy and more to do with being with someone at all. Everyone was mostly fine. Hell, Bruce actually acted like an adult for once— you should’ve seen Jay’s face.” He’s rumbling by the end, trying to explain hours worth of conversations to her within a few minutes
“But?” She’s patient. She’s understanding. It’s a strange, this thing between them is new, an attempt at something that died almost a decade ago but it feels like returning home
“Damian. It’s always Damian isn’t it?” He chuckled without humour. “First the titans, he— he lied to all of them. And then the fight with Jon. Bruce even told me Damian’s benched from patrol because of an incident last month.” Dick held his face in his palms.
“The titans thing was right after..” She stopped herself, probably realising Alfred’s death wasn’t the right thing to mention. “Right after he wasn’t okay mentally, he was going through it and then the fight with Jon was right after the titans thing, it’s hard on him. Give him some space.”
“But It’s all that and today, with the family, Kori I didn’t hear a single word out of his mouth after Tim came out. He just stared at him, there wasn’t an emotion on his face. It was nothing. Then once Bruce was done talking, he looked and there was this— this face on him— so full of disgust that I had recoil. Do you— oh god, so you think he has a problem with Tim’s sexuality?”
“Dick, come home. You’re mumbling. It’s alright, you-“
“No Kori, if this is true, then god I need to talk to Tim about it, I’d I noticed then he did— we can’t just let it go on, this is—“
“-isn’t your responsibility anymore. You’re their brother, not their father. Come home now, sleep and leave the rest on tomorrow”
It’s safe to say that tomorrow never arrived
The Penthouse is abandoned— left utterly despondent— before the morning arrives. The family disappears. What’s left is a crime scene. Damian is used to crime scenes. A stack of piled up dishes for the cleaning crew, a small group which came every few days, to handle. The living room has been cleaned, his family has a way of leaving no trace of them behind. There are some clues though, a CD slightly out of order in the pile; Dumbo. Stupid children’s film he’s never wanted to watch. The box of cereal he settles on eating today feels lighter than yesterday. There’s no cool water in the refrigerator. There’s signs that something had happened, but as far as Damian and his family go, even the signs are of absence.
The bus ride to school ends up being boring. He has the option of going with a private chauffeur. But Damian would rather rot in the Gotham Academy school bus than go to school with someone who isn’t Alfred. His father had long left for work, Damian doesn’t even know what he does anymore. Wayne Enterprises has needed him in a capacity he’s never been needed before, and Batman has started going out earlier and coming home later. If Damian isn’t Robin, he feels like he’s nothing at all.
“Hey Raghead! You’re late today. No warning texts for your friends?” A voice shouted as Damian walked to class. It was a group of upperclassmen, the same group that usually waits for him by the door
Damian ignores them. Usually fighting with them doesn’t go in his favour. He can’t exactly risk getting benched again right now. The last time he had fought back with them, the result hadn’t been kind. He had been benched for two months for breaking a kid’s nose.
Nevermind that the kid in question had attempted to lock Damian in the toilets and pour dirty water on him. His father had refused to believe it, for him, Damian was a story told. No matter how many attempts he made, he’d always be lesser in the eyes of his father.
He walks hurriedly to class, shifting between a sprint and a walk. Careful to avoid the eyes on him. He was a Wayne. There were always eyes on him. He’d gotten better at this. For the length of the walk to class, he had a way of pretending that nothing too bad was happening, that he wasn’t physically there, that the boys weren’t following him and that he was allowed to fight back.
“We don’t usually hang with people like you. Our parents worry, you know?” Another voice said, viciously. They all laughed. “Jack’s mom has trauma from the— well some stuff your people did. She saw it on TV, it was very hard on her. But we know you’re better.”
It’s the same story. Every single time.
They were following him to class. They did every morning. Their voices had long become a chorus. Damian knows their names. Has known their names for the past two years but to him, they’re nothing but the evil choir, praying for his downfall. “It’s not so bad with you. Maybe you should come meet us after school sometime huh? sorry am I speaking too fast?”
He looked at Damian. They all did. And Damian felt small.
Damian grew in the league of assassins. He’s killed people. He’s been unkind. He has more blood on his hands that most people can imagine. All he’s ever had has been fight. A decade of anger inside his body. Yet, as he walks to class, the only thing that ever belonged to him has been taken away. Locked between the pearly gates of fatherly approval.
Damian, you poor child, even your rage betrays you.
By the time he gets to class, the boys have had their fun and left him behind. His mind is loud again then. And Damian, a thing of complete shame, wishes they were still there.
Mia is waiting for him in class. She takes one look at his face and he knows she knows, “Didn’t sleep again?”
”Take a wild guess”
Mia smiles, “Hmm, I think you slept for nine hours and then ate a full plate of breakfast. Am I right on the money?” Damian gives her a look. “Hey! You said a wild guess.”
She looks at him expectantly. Damian chuckles, not because she’s stupid, but because he knows that’s what she is trying to do.
”And such is the crisis of literacy. Sarcasm is a lost art form.”
Mia rolls her eyes and makes some space for him next to her. Behind him Colin taps Damian’s shoulder in greeting. And the world’s kinder again. The three of them together. Then Mia looks at him again, a long hard considering look, “Those boys, the ones by the gates. They’ve been behaving okay? You know you can talk to me. I’m not your family but I’d listen plus I can tell my brother to rough them up. You know Bruce Lee style—”
”That’s enough maps.” Colin says, cutting her rant
Damian nods, too ashamed to look into her, and looks away. Not all things are meant to be told.
Sometimes, Damian dreams. His family asks him questions. Tell him about their days. They’re kind to him. They’re curious. They are as they have always been but to Damian. Then he opens his eyes, and they’re never as kind as he needed