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Dark, threatening clouds had taken over the sky in the city of Gotham, the downpour all but promised and merely awaiting the opportune moment to strike. Despite the threat of an incoming storm, the park was still steady with children playing. Laughter and joyous cries could be heard from miles away. Exuberant children bounding about, racing, sliding, and jumping around with no other concerns in the world. Tired parents sat on the benches watching, others on their phones to enjoy the little bit of free time they finally had on their hands.
From a distance, hidden away by bushes, Robin peered out at the children bounding around on the playground.
It seemed like yesterday Damian had been in this exact spot peering out at children of his own age playing without a care in the world. Their joy had always been evident in those moments, able to shed away any worries or baggage that may have held them down in other parts of their lives. He’d always been confused about such things at that age. Ten years old, free of responsibility, able to make friends and play because there was nothing else in the world for them to face. When Damian had been close to reaching ten years of age, he’d been thrust into the year of blood in order to prove himself as a worthy heir to the League of Assassins.
Blood had been spilled thoroughly, coating his hands, ruining lives all in the stead of a legacy that he had once believed in with all of his heart.
There had been a time where Damian had once been proud of such acts.
Now they just filled the young Robin with a hollow emptiness – a guilt that had nearly eaten him alive.
He hadn’t known any better for so long.
Coming to Gotham had been the opportunity for change he had been unaware was needed. Meeting his father, gaining a family, becoming Robin – this had been what his entire life had truly been leading to. While there had been numerous rough patches over the years, learning pains as he had been informed by a few of his family members, Damian had made his home in Gotham. There had been days in which he’d been uncertain if this path was the right one, or if he was even deserving to be walking it with the blood that had been spilt over a decade of his life.
It was said that killers tended to be the only ones who could truly understand the remorse of what it felt like to take a life. That was a feeling he was all too familiar with.
Standing in this same spot nearly four years ago now, there had been so many changes in his life. Even now, Damian could still remember the loneliness that had welled up inside of him when he had first come to this place at just ten years old. A well of sadness, a well of emptiness that was threatening to burst or consume him. He had watched those children play, wishing nothing more that his life could have been something more similar. Or perhaps the Robin had wished he could join those kids, shake off the feeling of responsibility and guilt that had consumed his life and feel like a normal child for once in his life.
Normalcy was something Damian knew he was never going to have in his life, and at fourteen years of age now, he was finally starting to settle and accept that. Four years of Robin had taught him a great deal. All of those trials and tribulations had led him to Lazarus Island, the tournament of death just another reminder of the life that he’d chosen to leave behind.
He was no longer a killer. He no longer took pride in having to take a life, even with the knowledge that each person would be brought back until their third and final death. That hadn’t made any of it easier. Only one who had so much blood on their hands could possibly understand that feeling and the remorse that came with it. He certainly did these days.
“Hey, Robin!”
Turning at the name, a familiar figure held up a hand in a wave. The grey skin and white hair were a dead giveaway for Flatline, along with similar clothing that she had worn during the tournament.
“I know, I know – sorry I’m late, but I managed to grab it!” With a triumphant grin, she held up the latest issue of the most recent manga they had both been reading, Damian’s eyes widening beneath the domino mask. “I had expected it to be sold out by the time you made it to the store,” he mused, reaching for the book, gloved fingers flipping through it briefly.
“You’re just lucky I’m very good at what I do.” When Damian gave her a look, she quickly brushed it up with a wave of her hand and a wide smile. “I didn’t kill anyone for it, I promise! But I may have grabbed one of the last copies before this snot nosed little brat could. If I shoved a little, there was no harm or foul. We had to get it – this is the second to last issue!”
A soft tt came as a response to her story, closing the manga once more to the cover of the newest issue.
This was one of the things that Damian had managed to gain during the Lazarus Tournament that had seemed out of reach to him for so many years. His leadership skills, over the years, had needed some… adjusting. Bossing people around had come naturally to him given his history, expecting people to do as he said without a single complaint. His stint with the Teen Titans had proven it wasn’t an effective form of leadership. If Damian wanted to be an actual leader that people looked to, he needed to become something –someone—better.
So, he had.
Asking for help when it was needed, bringing people together as one: that was what a true leader did. One of the many lessons that he had gained and would hold onto if only to make him a better person for the future. He’d once thought that asking for help was a show of weakness, but had quickly learned that it was a strength. Leaders were only as strong as the people who followed them, after all.
Besides, having friends felt nice.
Glancing back at the park, Damian felt a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips before he was taking off with Flatline.
Eventually the two of them found their way to one of the many rooftops of Gotham City. Perched atop the edge of the roof, manga opened, the two of them read through the latest installment together, occasionally pointing out little details or making a passing comment with faint huffs of laughter. Knowing that the next issue would be the final one, Damian should have expected the cliffhanger to come, yet he still let out a rather dramatic sigh, throwing his arms up while Flatline nearly toppled over laughing.
“I can’t believe they’re going to end it like that,” he complained, arms finally settling back at his side.
“Hey, at least we’ll know how it all ends come next month. If you really think about it, it’s not that long of a wait. I’m sure you can manage it, short stuff.” Nudging the Robin’s side with a teasing grin, he scoffed faintly, nudging her right back.
“That hardly changes the fact that they merely ended it like this to ensure everyone tunes in for the final issue. As though they didn’t expect their readers to already do so with it officially ending.”
“Of course, you would take it so seriously.” Damian shot a half-glare in her direction beneath the mask, no true heat behind any of it. Reaching out, he plucked the manga fully from her hands, scanning over the final image once more. “Either way, I am intrigued to see how it all ends.”
It was just nice to have something like this for himself in his life when everything else tended to be for other people. There were so few things Damian had that hadn’t been either forced upon him or passed down in some way from both sides of his family. This belonged to him.
Flatline turned, standing up as she stretched out fully. “Well, that was fun! As much as I’d love to just sit around and talk about this and that, I should get back to Lord Death Man and all of that.” Flashing him a grin, reached to pluck the manga back with a teasing grin, flipping through it once more before tossing it back in his direction, Damian easily catching it from the air. “I’ll come bother you again soon, don’t you worry, bird boy. You haven’t seen the last of me.” With a wink, she was off.
Watching as Flatline disappeared along the rooftops of the city, he finally turned back once he could no longer see her off in the distance. Glancing down at the book in his hand, head shook finally before he was rising himself.
While there had been numerous changes in his life as of late, he knew there were still steps to take in order to grow into the person he truly wanted to be. The road was a long one that he sought for redemption, but it was one that Damian was all too willing to walk in order to make those in his life proud. He was going to ensure he deserved the R and the title that came with Robin. After all, this was the life he had chosen, and Damian wasn’t going to look back no matter what came his way.
Reaching into his utility belt, pulling a grappling hook free, he shot it out over the city, swinging through the rooftops while the wind whipped through his hair.