Chapter Text
The sound of music was the first thing Damian noticed when the passage to the batcave opened. It was an upbeat tune that seemed to pound through the rock and limestone interior of the place. It was so jarringly loud compared to the rest of the manor that he found himself tuning into the lyrics without consciously choosing to. To his confusion, it seemed to be a song about a woman named Rio who enjoyed dancing on the sand.
Damian wanted to plug his ears with cotton to drown out the offending sound, but more than anything, he wanted to know who was blasting music in the cave. Surely his father did not listen to such garbage, nor did he allow it to play while he was working. Within the week Damian had gotten to observe his father, he knew that the man was nearly always silent. Bruce Wayne ate in silence, read in silence, exercised in silence, and patrolled in silence. It only made sense that his workspace would retain his preference for silence as well.
So no, it would be completely out of character for his father to play music in the batcave, which meant that someone else had been down here earlier. Judging by the sudden tenseness in his father’s shoulders, Damian could only guess that the culprit was still lurking around.
The only people Damian could imagine would be down here would be his father’s caped associates. That insufferable alien called Superman or possibly the blabbermouth speedster. Unless… his father was testing him and was planning to have him attacked as some kind of training exercise. Even though it was unlikely, Damian kept his eyes peeled for any sense of danger.
“There are some people I want to introduce you to,” Father said. He began to descend down the staircase, his feet making no sound. Damian followed suit and resisted the temptation to cross his arms over his chest. If there was someone threat-worthy down here, he’d rather his hands be free to grab the knife tucked in his pants. He did allow a small scrunch of his nose since there was an unpleasant earthy smell in the cave mixed with a sharp saltiness that Damian couldn’t place.
He scanned beyond his view of his father’s backside and noticed that there was something different about the lowest level of the batcave. Typically, that was the section of the cave where his father kept his jet skis, ski boat, and submarine. When Damian saw the cave for the first time a week ago, he briefly looked down and saw that there was just enough seawater inside the cave to keep the vessels afloat. There had also been a large door at the entrance of the lower level that blocked off more ocean water from coming in, though it was obviously more of a device to keep people from entering the cave. The door had been locked tight before, but now it was completely wide open, allowing ocean water to slosh gently against the lower walls of the cave. The saltiness he had detected moments ago made sense now.
“Are you planning on going fishing?” Damian asked. He ended up crossing his arms anyways, hip cocked toward the support of the ridged wall. His father continued heading towards the lower level platform. The platform was only a few feet higher than the top surface of the water, making it easy enough to hop onto the boats. His father made no move to board any of the vessels, rather, he stopped at the edge of the platform and turned to meet Damian’s eyes.
“You’ll have to come down here,” Father said. “They won’t climb up there to meet you.”
Damian pushed off the wall with his shoulder and came down to the lower platform. “Who on earth are you referring to?” His arm nearly brushed his father's when they finally stood next to each other. “Surely you don’t mean to introduce me to that trident-wielding clownfish man.”
For a second it looked like his father was struggling between a glare and a small grin. Damian decided it must be a look of disapproval. People were rarely amused by him.
“No, not Aquaman,” Father said. Oh, of course. That was the clownfish man’s name. “They're somewhat related to him. You’ve met Mer people before, haven’t you?”
Damian had, in fact, never met a Mer person, let alone multiple of them at the same time. He’d certainly seen them when he was with the League of Assassins. Sometimes he would see them darting through the waves of the ocean, but he mainly saw them when his grandfather brought them in as prisoners.
Regardless, they were beautiful creatures, even though they rarely showed themselves above water. There were laws in place that kept Mers from being hunted like a typical sea animal, but it hadn’t always been that way. Damian supposed that was why the people of the sea were hesitant to make regular appearances outside of their habitat.
“Not officially,” Damian said after a few moments of silence. His eyes narrowed into slits. “I’m about to, aren’t I?” He instantly took a few steps back away from the ledge. His tongue curled, ready to reprimand his father for allowing Mers into the cave. Before he had the chance to do so, his father held up a hand.
“You don’t have to be scared of them. I’ve known each of them for a long time now, and they know who I am.”
That only made Damian tense even further to the point where he was practically a replica of a dog with its hackles raised. He couldn’t believe his father had revealed his identity to others. Who were these people that had his father’s trust? Why were they privy to such a private part of his father’s life before Damian himself was? Damian technically knew the reason for the last question, and he couldn’t help but feel a little jealous that his father’s affection for the interlopers was likely stronger than his affection for his own son.
His father’s blue eyes watched him with calculated precision and Damian quickly schooled his features. He’d rather have his father think he was nervous instead of pinpointing his insecurity.
“I know things between us have been rough this past week, but try to be civil with them.” They mean a lot to me went unsaid. Damian rolled his eyes before dragging his feet back to his father’s side. He gave a stiff nod.
His father reached up towards the comm in his ear, which was interesting. That meant the Mers had a means of communicating with him in the water and vice versa. While Damian was certainly wary of the situation, he had to admit he was a little curious about his father’s “associates.”
“Tim,” his father said into the comm. There was a small pause where this so-called Tim must have responded. “I have Damian with me. You can come inside now. Tell Jason he can’t have any of Alfred’s shrimp for a week unless he disables the music loop.” Then, muttered through clenched teeth as if pained to admit it, he said, “It’s been driving me crazy all morning.”
“Tt.” Damian had been ignoring the music still pounding through the cave up until that point. There had been another terrible song playing for the past three minutes. It went something like, “I’m having your baby. It’s none of your business.” It hit a little too close to home for Damian’s liking, and by the way his father was openly scowling, he figured he felt the same. However, it didn’t become an issue because the music abruptly came to a stop. The Jason character must have decided the butler’s food was worth far more than an annoyed Batman.
There wasn’t much indication that the Mers had entered the cave other than the water itself taking on a more rippled effect. Seconds later, the water started sloshing more harshly against the walls and platform. Damian lifted his foot just in time to miss a wave of water from soaking his shoe. By the time he dodged a few more wayward splashes, hair and skin were beginning to emerge from the murky depths.
Two dark-haired males then rose up until their arms and chests were exposed to the air, water droplets trickling down their skin. The male with the larger and more muscled torso looked to be older than the slimmer, pale male. Both of their eyes were blue and rid of any irritation that a normal human’s eyes would experience when exposed to seawater. Their hands also had webbing between each finger, though the small white tissue scars covering them suggested that the webbing was not entirely durable. While interesting, Damian was more excited to see the Mer’s tails, but so far neither of them had moved far enough out of the water to show a glimpse of them.
His attention was drawn towards the teardrop-shaped obsidian stones that were fastened to each of the Mer’s throats by short silver chains. He wondered if they were gifts from his father since the necklaces did not look like the kind of colorful jewelry Mers were known to wear.
During the time Damian had taken to carefully observe the two strangers in the water, he realized they were doing the same to him. The more intimidating Mer drifted closer until he was leaning his arms against the side of the platform, making Damian take a few steps back. His eyes seemed to be drawn to the knife that Damian had concealed in his pants. How the Mer had detected it, Damian had no idea, but it instantly made him feel more guarded.
His father placed a hand on his shoulder, and normally Damian would have shrugged it off, but somehow it made it easier to look at the Mers without showing his unease over the situation.
His father looked at the larger male. “Damian, this is Jason Todd.” This was said with a pointed glare at the Mer, and the Mer instantly sported a wolfish grin that displayed his sharp teeth.
Father then motioned to the smaller male. “This is Tim Drake.” Tim gave a hesitant wave, his webbed hand stretching out to full capacity. Father sighed. “Where’s Dick?”
Damian raised a brow, unsure of what that was supposed to mean.
“He got sidetracked,” Drake said, swimming up beside Todd. “A kid from a passing pod snagged his tail between two rocks and broke a few scales. Dick said he was going to show the pod where the Mer-medic was. He should be here any second.”
From what Damian remembered, a pod was the Mer people’s equivalent to a family unit. They mostly traveled while children in the pod were young before becoming more stationary in one area. From what he could make of their ages, Damian assumed Todd and Drake’s pods must be close by. If that was the case then did their pods also know the identity of Batman? Did they also come into the cave and chat with his father? Once again, Damian couldn’t help but feel like a complete outsider in the situation.
His father started talking to the comm in his ear, apparently demanding to know where the absent Mer was located. Damian ignored him in favor of focusing on the Mers present. Arms crossed, he stepped forward to the point of nearly stepping on Todd’s fingers.
“My name is Damian Wayne,” he said, chin tipping upwards. “I demand to know your relationship with my father.”
Todd and Drake shared a look with each other.
“You demand to know?” Todd asked, Gotham accent taking Damian by surprise. He gripped the side of the platform harder and pulled his torso further out of the water, intentionally leaning into Damian’s space. “How about I demand you rephrase your question?” Todd didn’t even blink as a water droplet from his hair trickled into his eye.
“There was nothing wrong with the phrasing of my question, bottom dweller,” Damian said, using a term he had heard his grandfather use when referring to Mers.
Jason’s tail, a mixture of black and red, appeared for a split second before coming back down to the water with a loud smack. Water sprayed in multiple directions and a large portion of it drenched Damian’s jeans and shoes. Outraged, Damian stepped on the heel of his right shoe to loosen it. Then, with a well-practiced aim, he flung the shoe straight into Todd’s smug-looking face. Todd’s head snapped back on impact. His arms gave out beneath him, making him sink back into the water. Drake dodged to the side to avoid Todd’s flailing.
Damian heard Drake and his father shout at the same time.
“What the hell!”
“Damian!”
Suddenly, a wet hand shot out of the water and snagged one of Damian’s ankles in a bone-crushing grip. He was yanked so hard that he lost his balance and fell on his backside with a startled gasp.
“Unhand me!” he yelled while trying to scramble for purchase on the wet floor. It was no use. He felt another tight squeeze around his ankle, and before he knew it, he was dragged into the disgusting water.
Saltwater immediately stung his eyes. He squeezed them shut and blindly reached towards his ankle to try and dig his nails into Todd’s hands, but the water slowed his momentum. Even kicking became difficult against the water’s resistance. He could feel his body being dragged back and forth through the water, his hair ghosting over his face every other second. Lungs burning, Damian tried to use his hands to propel his torso to the surface of the water, only to have Todd give a harsh tug downwards, keeping him from reclaiming oxygen.
A second passed where Damian genuinely thought his father was going to let this psychotic Mer drown him. A heavy feeling of betrayal fell over him and he tried even harder to kick Todd in the face. Clearly, no one was going to save him. He had to save himself. That’s the way it had to be. Just like it always had been with the League of Assassins.
Just as he was about to try reaching for his knife, a high-pitched sound vibrated through the water. It sent shivers down Damian’s spine, and for a moment, he thought there was a whale with them in the water. A sound like that was far too similar to the whale songs Damian had seen videos of. But then the biting grip of Jason’s hands disappeared from his ankles. A different set of webbed hands grabbed his wrist, propelling him towards the surface.
Damian reflexively sucked in a large breath as soon as his face was out of the water. He felt dizzy from the lack of oxygen. He tried to open his eyes and immediately shut them again after feeling the sharp sting of salt in them.
Whoever pulled him out of the water had enough sense to keep an arm around his waist. Damian half-heartedly dog paddled back towards the edge of the platform with the arm’s support. Another set of hands, his father’s hands, grabbed him under the armpits and scooped him out onto the platform.
Damian gasped wetly and dragged himself as far from the water as he could with the dead weight of his wet clothes holding him back. He noticed his father’s presence disappear from his side, only to be swapped with another person, supposedly the person who saved him. Vaguely, Damian could hear his father yelling in the distance. It was hard to make out the words with the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.
The webbed hand returned to his back and gave it a few hard taps to help dispel any water Damian accidentally swallowed. “Go get him a towel and some tap water. He needs to flush out his eyes.” The voice was unfamiliar. There was no doubt that this had to be the other Mer, Dick.
“Are you sure he doesn’t need some milk?” Drake asked from somewhere above them. And what? How was Drake possibly above them? He wouldn’t be able to breathe nor would he be able to walk with his tail. He tried to pry his eyes open to look, only to close them with a hiss after feeling how sensitive they were. Dick used his hand to slick Damian’s hair away from his face so more saltwater wouldn’t drip down into it.
“Oh krill,” Dick said, sounding exasperated and amused at the same time. “How long have you been waiting to use that reference?”
A bark of laughter echoed in the cave. “Way too long.”
“Should’ve waited longer!” Todd shouted during a pause in his and Father’s argument.
“Jason,” Dick warned in barely concealed anger. “Shut it.”
Todd’s loud scoff startled the bats. Damian heard them scatter up above, their flapping wings getting farther away.
“Sure, okay. He insults me and hits me in the face with his steel-toed shoe, and I’m somehow in the wrong for showing him that actions have consequences?”
“Don’t even try to make it seem like that was a teachable moment. He’s just a kid—”
“Don’t treat me as if I’m some imbecile that needs to be handled with kid gloves,” Damian spat, rolling away from Dick’s gentle hand and sitting up on his own. “I’m capable of taking care of myself! I was just about to gut Todd with my knife when you stepped in unnecessarily.” Damian motioned in the direction of Todd’s voice. “I’d kill him right now if I was able to see properly.”
Damian felt his father’s hand close around his bicep. His first instinct was to knock the hand away, angry that people kept grabbing and touching him. First, it had been Todd’s biting grip on his ankle. Then, Dick’s supportive arm around his waist. Now, his father’s tense fingers on his arm.
He scowled. Their touch made him feel weak and vulnerable, and he was neither of those two things. No, Damian Wayne was no one’s victim. No one’s damsel in distress. He was too good for that. The blood running through his veins was proof of that.
“That had better be a joke,” Father said lowly. “I told you when you came here that we don’t kill. Ever.” The cold tone of his voice made Damian want to shrink and curl back up on the floor. Instead, stubborn as ever, he crossed his arms and turned his head in the other direction.
“I have the right to defend myself if he attacks me! If defending myself leads to his death then that hotheaded flounder was asking for it!”
Todd made a high-pitched shrieking sound similar to the one Damian had heard in the water. Damian jumped slightly when Dick, who was still sitting right beside him, answered back with a mixture of shrieks and clicks of his own. It sent goosebumps down Damian’s arms. The shrieks didn’t sound as soft or musical out of the water as they had in the water. They were quick, biting, and fueled by anger.
“Ooh, you made Mom mad,” Drake snickered, his voice sounding much closer than it was before.
Dick and Todd both clicked in the back of their throats simultaneously, which Damian could only assume was some variation of, “Shut up!”
Damian wondered if his father understood the Mer’s heated conversation or if his silence was an indication that he was just as lost as Damian was. As far as Damian knew, translating the Mer language did not come easy. Replicating it was even harder, if not impossible due to the different frequencies that could not be heard or replicated by the human body.
“That’s enough!” Father said after what felt like an eternity of nonstop vocalizations, causing the two Mers to trail off into silence. Damian could have sworn he heard one of them hiss at one point. “You two need to cool off. Jason, get upstairs. Go help Alfred with dinner.” He paused for a second and then, most likely addressing Dick, said, “You’re drying up like a prune. Go soak for a few minutes.”
There was some mumbling and what sounded like feet pounding up the platform that connected to the top level of the cave. Damian internally cursed at the salt that was still keeping him from opening his eyes. He was desperate to make sense of how it was possible for the Mers to be walking around the cave. All of them except Dick, apparently.
“You and Tim got the kid?” Dick asked.
Damian immediately scowled and clenched his fists. That was the second time he’d been called “kid.” Kids were not equals, and worse, they were not capable of much. Damian was the opposite. He would show both his father and these Mers that no one was more capable than him. Then they would realize their mistake in referring to him in such a demeaning way.
“I got the water and towel right here,” Drake chimed in somewhere to Damian’s immediate left.
Dick squeaked twice, short and low.
“Huh?” Drake said. “Quit speaking in dialect.”
“Ugh. Forget it.”
Dick’s scales were rough and heavy sounding as they dragged across the floor. Damian wondered if it hurt or if the scales were tough enough to take some damage. His curiosity died as soon as he heard a large splash from behind him. He turned his attention to the remaining Mer instead.
“What are you waiting for, Drake? Hand over the water immediately!”
Damian could only imagine the look of bewilderment on the Mer’s face as Drake muttered, “Drake? You’ve gotta be kidding me.”