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Batman moved with unexpected grace. He struck relentlessly, took his opponents by surprise, ordinary thieves of no importance, and put sheer terror in them.
From his privileged position on the roof, Damian watched in admiration.
That was his father, the man the Demon himself had deemed worthy to take his place.
Mother had told him all about the man, almost legends about the greatness of Ra's al Ghoul's greatest pupil, but Batman lived up to those stories.
He was a relentless, strong, fearsome warrior.
And Damian was his son.
He knew he had the blood of exceptional individuals in his veins. Mother had made sure he knew.
But he had never felt the weight of it, the fear of not being worthy.
"Why doesn't he kill them?" he mumbled in concentration, watching Batman tie up the thieves and throw them into a corner. It would be easy for someone like him.
Perhaps too easy, and father didn't see the taste in killing easy prey.
It was something to keep in mind when he introduces himself to father. Which will happen soon. Hopefully.
He was so focused he didn't realize he wasn't alone, "Silly. Batman doesn't kill!"
Damian acted swiftly and pointed his sword at the throat… of a child.
He was small, maybe seven years old, wearing a large red sweatshirt and ripped jeans. Around his neck she had a seemingly expensive camera.
Damian was not fooled by his harmless appearance: at that age he had learned how to kill a man in thirteen different ways and had witnessed him as his mother killed their enemies.
"Wow ... is that true?"
"Who are you, kid?" Damian asked, not moving the weapon. One misstep, and he'll cut his throat.
"Who are you?"
"Here I ask the questions. Who are you?"
"Alvin."
Damian frowned, "Your real name."
"How do you know it isn't?"
"You hesitated. A sign you were lying."
The child pouted, "I could be scared. Have you thought about it?"
"You're alone in a thirteen-story building at night. You've shown too much courage to be frightened by such a small thing."
Damian almost pressed his sword to the kid's jugular, "Now, who are you?"
"Tim."
Insignificant name and without dignity. Damian said, "Who do you work for, Timothy?"
"What?"
"I know the numerous enemies of fa.. Batman," he corrected himself in time.
He didn't want to attract too much attention, especially when not even his mother knew where he was. He had disobeyed, a serious lack of respect for the second most powerful person in the League. He hadn't fulfilled his mission to follow a momentary whim. It was unforgivable. Damian was twelve, he should know better.
But it was a rare possibility, and he hadn't wanted to waste it.
(The worst part was that the target had escaped, and upon returning home, Damian will have to face the consequences of his actions.)
"I'm not a Rouge!" the child protested, looking offended.
"Then why are you here?"
Timothy blushed, a blush enhanced by his paleness.
"I wasn't following Batman. I was here for… for the skyline!"
"The skyline," Damian repeated.
The brat was unable to lie. Such a weakness would make him an expendable but useless pawn. Maybe it was just a civilian meddling in business not his, or maybe not.
Keeping him alive was a risk.
Damian should kill him. But… but it would have been a useless display of power. Father wouldn't do that, and Damian wanted to be a worthy son.
He pulled the sword away from the child, "Go away, before I change my mind."
Timothy didn't have it repeated twice. Before he escaped, however, Damian yelled at him, "What does it mean that Batman doesn't kill?"
Timothy looked at him strangely, "Everyone knows. It's Batman's golden rule. He doesn't kill."
This confused Damian.
"Why?"
"Duh, he's a hero!"
Timothy said it as if it were logical, but it didn't make any sense to Damian.
Over the next three days, Damian continued his study of Batman's methods.
He was almost discovered during a fight against Bane, notable by his father, considered his enemy.
From that, he knew he had to be more careful, improving his stealth.
His father was an incredible warrior, and every fight confirmed that. But he didn't kill. Never.
Not even enemies who had stained themselves with unforgivable sins, like that clown who kept laughing among the corpses of his latest victims. Damian visited Joker before he was locked up in Arkham.
Such a being could not live.
( He left the agonizing Joker on the ground. He will hardly survive. If by sheer misfortune the clown survives, he will be in a condition where he wishes to die.)
Damian didn't understand. Father had been trained by grandfather, he was the best.
So why did he let his enemies live? He surely must have seen the disadvantage.
Moreover, there was also another thing: Robin.
The teenager accompanied father everywhere, too bright a shadow on the streets of Gotham.
His costume was ridiculous, he was a brute without grace, a hindrance to his father.
Still, he had the privilege of fighting alongside Batman.
A privilege that should belong to the blood child.
Damian was not happy. And he made the second impulsive decision of his life; he will kill Robin.
Batman and Robin were fighting. It wasn't the first time.
"You have exaggerated!"
"So? You saw what he was going to do! He's a rapist!"
"Robin, we are not the law."
"But we punch criminals at night. Tell me, what's the difference with what we usually do?"
Damian pursed his lips in a soft line, flattening his back more against the dirty wall of the alley. Robin's disrespect was annoying.
If they were in the League, he would be punished as he deserved.
Since father did not want to do it, it will be Damian's job.
Robin was distracted. It was time to act.
He took the shurikens, ready to hit the target.
He was about to throw them when someone pounced on him.
"No!"
Quick as a bolt, Damian put a hand on his assailant's mouth and came back with his back to the wall.
The fight was over, Robin had asked, "Did you hear?"
"Damn. "
He didn't want his first meeting with his father to be a result of failure. What impression would it give him?
He heard no footsteps approaching, and by the time he ventured to check, Batman and Robin were gone.
He looked down and set his jaw.
"You? Again?!"
Timothy tried to free himself, but his efforts were pathetic.
Damian should have killed him when he had the chance.
Damian set him down, taking his hand out of his mouth and moving it to his shoulder. The grip was strong, so the child didn't even think he could escape.
"You can't hurt him!" Timothy screamed, and Damian had to make sure he was actually alone to avoid any nasty surprises.
"You can't kill Batman!"
"I wasn't aiming at him," Damian said dryly, even if that ruled out Timothy being in league with one of his father's numerous enemies.
The boy's eyes widened, "Did you want to hit Robin ?!"
" Lower your voice."
"You can't hurt Robin! -Timothy snapped, ignoring Damian's warning. - Batman won't forgive you! He's his son."
Damian felt his stomach sink. He had been under the impression that his father had no other children. His mother had never told him about it.
(There was a lot she hadn't told him.)
A firstborn is worth more. Grandfather cared about the laws of birthright. They were old-fashioned, but they worked.
Damian was not the firstborn, his blood claim null and void.
Father already had a son that he was training. Damian would have been a replacement at best.
He was shocked, and he loosened his grip. Timothy took the opportunity to escape, but Damian did not pursue him.
If Batman already had an heir, what was he?
Damian had to hope. He had to understand. Mother had been concerned with making him better, never telling him anything about the man behind the mask.
Damian sometimes felt more like the son of a legend.
(And how heavy the legacy was.)
He began to get information about the man behind the mask.
His father's civil name was Bruce Wayne. He had two sons. Adopted.
Which was a relief. Damian was still the only blood child.
However, Richard John Grayson and Jason Peter Todd had been chosen.
This made them more dangerous loved.
Damian could have killed them both, but he wouldn't have earned his father's approval.
If he wanted recognition, he had to do something important. Something that caught Batman's attention.
And maybe he already knew how.
"If you're waiting for Batman, you're wasting time."
Damian really should have killed that brat when he had the chance.
It was the third time in a week that he had found him in the way.
This time, they were outside a warehouse, where there would be an exchange between Two-Face and Penguin.
(The henchmen were very talkative when they thought no one was listening to them.)
Damian would cut off the deal, neutralize the threat, and wait for his father to arrive. That way, Batman will appreciate him. He will recognize him and Damian will take his place as the rightful and true heir.
But first he had to get rid of the hassle.
"Go home, Timothy."
"No."
"Your guardians will be worried."
The child shrugged, "They're not even in this country. And even if they were, they wouldn't notice my absence. They spend all their time arguing."
Inefficient guardians. This explained why such a young civilized child wandered alone at night.
Timothy continued, "Batman won't come. He's in Ethiopia."
He felt his blood run cold.
"Why?"
"Robin ran away. He went there as soon as he found out."
This made his plan ineffective. If Barman wasn't there to witness Damian's success, what was the point?
"Are you a new vigilante?" Timothy asked curiously.
"Sort of."
"Will you stop Two-Face?"
Damian wanted to mock him. Why do it if he didn't get what he wanted? But he stopped to think.
Father had left the city unattended. Someone had to take care of it. The pretenders had proved unsuitable. He, as a true son, would prove to be superior.
"Yes, I'll take care of him."
"Wow ... can I help?"
" You're weak."
"I know! But I could pass you some information! I'm good at that!"
Damian arched an eyebrow, "Really?"
"Yep."
"How much do you know about the Rouge activities?"
The answer was a lot.
Damian realized he had made a mistake. He had underestimated him.
Timothy proved to be a valuable source of information. He told him how to avoid the police when important operations would take place, such as Rouge to avoid.
In return, Damian allowed Timothy to take pictures. And if he didn't kill in front of the baby, it was pure chance. He didn't care.
Liar.
Despite everything, Damian began to respect him, even though Timothy was weak and anyone could kill him. It would be easy.
He understood, however, that the child's true strength was his own mind, much brighter than many of Damian's teachers.
Perhaps brighter than Damian himself. He had to be kept under observation. For practical purposes. He would thrive in the League.
(The League, however, could also have destroyed him.)
In short, thanks to his informant, Damian became Gotham's new terror. People called him Shadow.
He liked his name.
(He still wanted to be Robin.)
A month later, he was ready to meet his father.
Batman, however, had not yet returned from Ethiopia. And Damian began to fear that he had missed his opportunity
"Batman is alive!"
Timothy announced it with confidence, although no one has any news of either the vigilante or Robin.
There were rumors, of course. It was said that they died because of a Rouge, that Gotham had lost its Dark Knight.
Damian didn't believe it. None of those pathetic criminals could have done that.
But someone with the resources and skills to trap father existed. It was Damian's grandfather.
Ra's might have gotten tired of waiting. Perhaps respect for that exceptional pupil was no longer enough to let him live.
Damian was aware that if the grandfather decided to kill a person, there was no escape.
This made him restless, and not even the cleanliness of the weapons calmed him.
Timothy had entered Damian's shelter, an old abandoned factory, almost running, eyes bright with joy. Damian arched an eyebrow, "How do you know?"
"I hacked the Watchtower computer."
The twelve-year-old almost felt out of breath, "How? "
"It was easy."
He doubted hacking the Justice League computer was easy. Either the heroes were incompetent without father, or that child was smarter than all of them combined.
Probably both.
"What did you find?" he asked him, hoping to disguise the anxiety in his voice.
"The good news is that Batman is alive. He's still in Ethiopia. The bad news is that Robin is in danger. His biological mother sold him to traffickers and now Batman has asked the League for help to track him down!"
Damian almost grinned. What a beginner's mistake. Robin had once again shown that he was unsuitable for the role of Batman's companion.
Damian was better. He had proved it. When he introduces himself to father, the man will forget the bankrupt backup heir and take him with him.
He was so focused on that thought, he hardly noticed that Timothy had started talking again.
"... and it must be hard for you to wait for your father."
Damian stared at him, not knowing whether to deny or not.
"How did you understand that?" he finally asked, knowing that lying wouldn't help. He had gotten to know Timothy, and he never said anything without having a solid foundation to build on.
The boy shrugged, "I've seen pictures. You look like him. The only differences are the darker skin and the eyes. Yours are green."
"Something mother always regretted," Damian remembered.
Mother would have liked him to have the eyes of father, to be able to remember him better. Damian's eyes, however, were those of an al Ghoul.
Timothy tilted his head, "Who is she?"
"She is a powerful woman. The daughter of the Demon himself."
It was Timothy's turn to open his mouth, surprised.
"Is your mother Talia al Ghoul?"
It was no surprise that he knew who she was. If anything, it was more surprising that he hadn't figured it out earlier. Who else could be worthy of giving birth to the son of Batman?
"Yes, it's her."
"Batman doesn't know about you?"
"Not for now," and it was something Damian was planning to change.
Tim had a weird expression, "You're lucky. Batman is a good dad. He's there for Robin."
Damian found it ridiculous to call him dad. He was not a child. But he saw Titmohy's dejected expression and decided not to correct him.
"Robin is a pretender. He is not his blood."
"So? Family isn't just blood. I see it in a tv show."
"Don't believe what they show on television. They are lies."
"But it's true that blood isn't everything. Batman loves both of his children, and he'll love you too, despite you being his, and not for that."
"It does not make sense."
"A lot of things about him don't make sense, but that's okay. Your dad will surely welcome you."
Damian had worked hard to make sure. But hearing it calmed him, even if all that speech was incomprehensible to him.
Superman and Wonder Woman rescued Robin before the teenager was sold to an anonymous Gotham Rouge.
(The suspicions were too many, but Gotham's streets were unusually quiet after Batman's return with two literal gods by his side. You don't challenge two of the most powerful beings in existence, even when you're insane.)
Timothy was happy, Damian was indifferent. He had better things to think about. How to introduce himself to his father, for example.
It was Timothy who gave him the idea.
"Killer Croc has escaped. You should show up when Batman arrives."
"What if the alien came first?"
"Then you will ask him to meet Batman. It will be enough to look at your face to understand who you are."
It couldn't be so simple. Right?
Luckily, it was Batman who chased after Killer Croc.
"Hello, father. I thought you were taller."