Chapter Text
He was supposed to already know what to do, always. Inquiring further about anything required of him was deemed as weak. His detective skills and understanding of his mission should be enough as to not need clarification on anything.
Because of this, he always kept his confusion hidden deeply in the back of his mind. He followed instructions given to him by his superiors blindly.
Tonight was one of the nights he had to be quiet and do as he was told, regardless of how little he knew about what was actually going on.
Damian had left his home on multiple occasions to do his grandfather’s bidding, to complete a task; sometimes, he would leave for months at a time, he was used to this. However, he knew this was different.
In the middle of the night, Mother had snuck him away on a boat Damian had ever seen before, and without his grandfather’s knowledge. They were also unaccompanied by their usual guards.
The boat rocked slowly. He had stopped counting how many days they had been traveling and started focusing on what he could feel. Damp wood against his feet, the fabric of his clothes, the roughness of the duffel bags his mother had packed for them.
Suddenly the boat halted to a stop and he and his mother got off into a dimly lit bay. He didn’t fail to notice his mother only unloaded his duffel bag.
“You are in the United States, in Gotham City. There is a dangerous plot going on with your grandfather and we are in danger, you especially.” His mother sighed and knelt in front of him.
His confusion grew, but his desire to help his mother was stronger.
As if reading his mind, she continued, “The only way you can help me is if you stay with your father while I end this.” His mother bit her lip.
His father? He had only heard stories about his father but had never met him. Was he even aware of Damian’s existence? He doubted it. He didn’t want to be away from his mother and hide with a stranger. Damian opened his mouth but he found that he simply could not summon the strength to protest, the shock of this goodbye was to great.
His mother grabbed his hands, gently.
“Find him, you can tell him everything I just need you safe.” She kissed the crown of his head.
“Goodbye, Damian. I promise you, I will be back.” With that, his mother returned to the boat, and returned to the shadows again. Leaving Damian standing on the edge of the dock, alone.
Mother’s hands are cold.
That was his last thought before his mother disappeared.
-
Damian assessed his surroundings. Cold chill and salt air a consequence of the sea and the time. He had an approximate idea of the time, he made the time zone change in his mind. It should be about 10PM.
He started to walk. Finding his father would be quicker if he wasted no time. A city known for its darkness— or at least the darkness of its protector, lived up to its reputation. The docks of Gotham were badly lit, a move done probably on purpose to ensure the anonymity of the dealings done there.
He hated to admit it but he hadn’t had the first clue on how to find his father. He knew who he was, both his daytime persona and his real persona: the bat, but locating a man who went to great lengths to conceal his identity would prove difficult for the ordinary man. Fortunately, Damian wasn’t an ordinary man.
His mother had entrusted him with this, and even though he didn’t need protection he would do this for her. Damian truly had no idea what his grandfather and his mother were going through but he placed blind trust in her as she had done to him so many times before. So, he walked on.
As he shuffled along the shadows behind _ Damian heard voices. At least half a dozen men. American accents, perhaps Gotham-natives? He hid behind a container a few feet away from the men and listened.
“I’m telling you man this is the shipment.” One of the men said. Damian couldn’t make up any features from where he was standing so he used the stairs on the container to get on top of it. His dark clothing would keep him hidden long enough so he could see any development.
He imagined this was a good way to get to his father. If anything ilegal was going on he believed the Batman would not be far behind to stop them.
“Look at me Jeffrey, we’re friends, so I want to believe you. But I need you to give me the rest of the precious cargo. There’s more than a few kilos missing.”
Another man approached Jeffrey. “Jeff, don’t make us hurt you.”
Drugs, of course. Damian knew that 60% of violence in Gotham was drug related, so he had to be prepared if anything happened. He took a moment to look inside his duffel bag for the first time since he got there.
He hoped his mother had packed his preferred weapons, he didn’t know the kind of dangers Gotham City would present.
Inside he found clothes, mostly his training robes, 2 pairs of shoes, and other necessities. Stacks upon stacks of American money. Then finally, a Katana, some of his knives, and then, under all of it, his mother’s favorite dagger.
This sent a chill down Damian’s spine. If his mother had saved this for him it meant a multitude of things Damian wasn’t sure he wanted to consider. His mother wasn’t sure she would return. This was her parting gift. What had happened to his grandfather? What would happen to her? He cursed at himself for not fighting to let him join her.
His mother had promised she would be back. However, Damian knew her word meant little when it came to his grandfather. Lying was a common occurrence in the Al Ghoul household. How could he be so naive as to believe her?
The men were yelling at each other now. This took Damian out of his thoughts and back to their conversation. There were too many, he couldn’t exactly made out what they were saying, when one of them pulled a gun. As if reflexively, the other 5 pulled guns on each other as well.
He heard loud pangs on some of the other containers that were surrounding the drug deal. That would be his father, Damian thought.
Suddenly, out of the shadows two figures appeared and jumped to action, trying to incapacitate the men. They moved perfectly in sync yet they had two very different fighting styles. The leaner one had a blue and black uniform. He was fast and agile, jumping and using his opponent’s force against them. The other one was heavier, and certainly did not hold back his punches. He wore a red helmet.
They made work of the drug smugglers quickly and swiftly; tying them up. Then the one in blue touched his ear.
“Yeah, we have them. No need to come I already alerted Gordon. We’re coming back soon.”
He didn’t know these men, but the one with the Red Helmet wore his father’s symbol on his chest. They must be connected to him somehow. He decided to follow them as he was sure they would lead him to the Batman.