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Damian was helping Lois with the dishes, drying them off after she scrubbed them clean. Once the sink was empty, she dried her hands and smiled down at Damian.
"Thanks for your help, Damian."
Then she did something strange. She leaned down and ruffled his hair, as Damian had seen her do to Jon.
He froze, simply staring at her.
She noticed him tense and the realization hit her. Damian isn't Jon. Not even similar. It felt so natural, to ruffle a child's hair but Damian isn't a normal child. She should have asked or simply complimented him without touching him.
"Oh- I'm sorry Damian, I should've asked."
Damian stood still for a moment before speaking up "...You're forgiven. Please excuse me."
She watched as Damian made his way to Jon's room to settle in for the night. She sighed, feeling guilty. She didn't know much about Damian's upbringing, but she knew it was difficult and left him with CPTSD. She assumed that was why Jon and Damian got along so well. When Jon was diagnosed as autistic, She read lots of books about neurodivergent children and how they tend to get along and gravitate towards each other. Before learning of the CPTSD, she actually thought Damian was just plain old autistic. She wanted to kick herself, but that wouldn't help. She apologized and he forgave her. She would just have to do better next time.
Later that night, Damian slept next to Jon and dreamed of his mother. He stood across from her, both armed with wooden swords. As they battled, Damian questioned her.
"Mama, can you tell me about Alexander the great?" Their wooden swords clashed
"Of course, my love. Once their was a horse called..." Her voice faded off, but Damian still hung onto the feeling of hearing that same story.
The sounds of their swords clacking against each other thumped in his head as his mother held him in her arms "You are more than the bat, my dearest. You are Damian. The future."
He leaned his head against her, head resting in the crook of her neck. She was warm and loving. Her arms were safe. He saw her smile gently and fade away.
He was no longer under the warm sun in his mother's arms, but laying next to Jon in the darkness. He looked over to see 3:06 AM on Jon's alarm clock. An uncomfortable feeling swelled in his chest, and something in his brain told him not to go back to sleep. That nothing good would come of it. So, he silently moved from the bed and made his way to the living room. He made his way to the window and stared blankly at the sky.
He replayed the dream in his head over and over. He wanted to relive the memories, hoping he'd never forget the warmth of his mother's smile, the safety of her embrace, and the love in her words. It hurt to know that he could never go back. That deciding to be good meant he would only ever be an enemy of Talia al Ghul and not her beloved son. The memories all became bittersweet and his heart burned with grief.
It wasn't fair. Why did his mother and father have to be enemies? Why couldn't they love each other and him? Why couldn't he be a normal kid with a normal family? Now he was here mourning a mother lost but still breathing.
A creak came from the hallway and Lois walked out into the living room.
She jumped a little, seeing Damian in the darkness, but smiled at him. "Hey, Kiddo."
"Forgive me, I didn't mean to wake you."
"Huh? You didn't wake me. I had some trouble sleeping, so I was gonna brew tea." She paused, wondering way Damian was awake at 3 am "Would you like some?"
"Yes. Thank you."
She smiled and went to the kitchen. After a few minutes she returned, and handed him a mug.
He nodded as he took it, and took a few sips. "Chamomile. It has a mild sedative that improves sleep and has many health benefits."
"....Yeup. I figured since we both can't sleep, it might help." She took a few sips "So. What's got you up? Nightmares?"
"No. Quite the opposite." His eyes were fixed on the sky outside the window
"Hmm. I see. I've never seen someone who cant sleep cuz of sweet dreams."
"I suppose you have now."
"You got me there."
As Damian sipped his tea, he couldn't help but think of how considerate Lois is. She apologized for touching him before asking, made him chamomile tea, and was willing to sit down and talk with him now. It wasn't fair. Why did Jon get to have a sweet mom who loved him? Why did Damian have to lose his? Did that make him a bad person? Being jealous of his friend like that.
"Jon is.....dear to me."
"What a coincidence! Me too." She laughs "I'm glad, Damian. I remember when you two were constantly arguing. Now seeing you two together makes me feel... happy. Proud too."
"....You're a good mother."
The comment caught her off guard, but she was used to strange compliments from someone who didn't understand social cues "Thank you, Damian. I meant it when i said you're a good kid."
Damian wanted to correct her and tell her he's not a kid, but.....he couldn't bring himself to. "Thank you."
He turned to her. All he could think of was his own mother. He could hear her voice telling him 'You are no longer welcome here. From here on out, you are an enemy of the house of al Ghul.'
Was it wrong of him to miss being in the league of assassins solely because that's when his mother loved him so fiercely?
A good kid. No one ever called him a good kid anymore. It felt...good. Warm.
Lois watched him staring at the tea in his mug. He's so unlike any child she's ever been around, but she couldn't help but feel that he was weighed down by something he wouldn't share.
"Damian? Would it ok if I ruffled your hair."
He looks up at her and after many minutes pass, he nods.
She reaches her hand over and gently ruffles his hair. He doesn't react much, which makes her worry that she's made him uncomfortable.
But after a minute he asks her "Can I lean my head on your shoulder?"
She nodded and adjusted so that he can comfortably lean on her. Damian hesitated, watching intently until he set his mug down, scooted closer to her and gently rested against her. Lois smiled, trying not to giggle at how stiff and tense he was. Slowly, but surely, Damian relaxed against her. His eyelids became heavier and heavier until he drifted of, and Lois made no effort to move him. Only stroke his hair and hum softly.