Chapter Text
Damian was now fourteenth. He took a quiet, sharp pride in the fact that his "deficit" remained a mystery to the rest of the household. Despite the suffocating layers of unconditional love his father and siblings displayed, he was entirely convinced that if they discovered the failure of his birth, they would cast him out. He tried to dismiss the thought as irrational. After all, Timothy remained a member of the family despite his own... mental fractures.
"Hey, Dami!"
The voice preceded a blur of motion as Richard appeared in his peripheral vision, his hand colliding with Damian’s hair in a messy display of affection that Damian had come to hate.
"Tch." Damian jerked away, smoothing the flattened strands with practiced precision. "Was that barbarian display necessary, Richard?"
"Absolutely," Dick chirped, flashing a trademark, troublemaking smirk before bounding off to harass Jason.
At that exact moment, a jagged spike of pain shot up Damian's spine. His hip seized, and sent a bolt of agony through him that stole the air from his lungs. He exhaled a sharp, hissed breath, his eyes darting across the room to ensure no one had caught the slip. Gritting his teeth, he hobbled toward the nearest chair, his gait uneven and heavy.
He dropped into the seat, and a sharp, metallic clack echoed as the titanium of his shin collided with the wooden frame. Both Jason and Dick froze, their conversation dying instantly.
"Damian, you good?" Jason asked, a single eyebrow arching in a silent interrogation.
"Yes," Damian snapped. He could feel the sweat pooling his palms, slick and cold.
"You look pale, Damian. Let Alfred take a look," Dick said, his playful energy vanishing as he reached out to check for a fever. Damian batted the hand away with a snarl.
"I said I am fine!"
He forced himself upright and stormed toward the exit. Every step felt like when his Grandfather made him walk on hot coals to build endurance, his limb throbbing with a desperate need for rest.
Behind him, Dick let out a long, weary sigh. Jason, however, didn't look convinced. He slid into the chair Damian had just vacated, his thumb already flying across his phone screen, opening Steph's contact.
Jason: Something's wrong with the brat.
Five minutes later, Steph responded.
Grimace Jr.: wdym?? did something happen??
Dick turned and glared at Jason, well aware of his affinity for gossip.
"Jason. What are you doing." Dick stomped up to him, grabbing his phone.
Grimace Jr.: hello???
Grimace Jr.: jay???
Grimace Jr.: did he kill you??
Grimace Jr.: JASON??????????????😭
Grimace Jr.: please don't be dead you and tim are the only ppl i can bear in this family and he doesn't have much time lft💔
GrimaceJr.: left**
Grimace Jr.: im getting babs to hack into ur cameras if you're dead again im gonna kill you
Dick put Jason's phone on silent and slipped it into his pocket.
"Out of everyone in this family," Dick began, looking stern, "I had assumed you would understand privacy the best. We both know that Damian's a little..." He paused, searching for the right word. "Uptight." He decided. "So when you go around, spreading rumors with zero proof, that's bound to get you impaled with something."
Jason snickered at the wording, pausing and sobering up when he saw Dick's unamused expression.
"So, do you understand? I would hate to have to ask Diana to lecture you on manners." Dick stared at Jason, his eyes threatening.
Jason instantly agreed after that.
"Of course," Jason said, rushed. While he loved and adored Wonder Woman, her lectures were awfully boring.
Dick handed Jason back his phone.
"Hurry and respond now," He said smirking, "we don't want Spoiler crashing through the Waynes' window in the middle of the day. The press would be insufferable."
Dick turned and left, the sound of Jason's fingers typing rapidly assuring Steph he was okay fading.