Chapter Text
The League of Assassins had no time for weakness, no allowance for childish things such as the luxury of rest. Mother afforded him much, too much even, but she could never afford him this. She told him that much.
She could never afford him more than thirty minutes' rest. Not from what he knew. That was what he was told.
It was alright, it was perfect, actually. No one could take him unawares if there was no unawares to speak of. He didn't remember anyways.
The blur of training and learning was meerly an ache on his bones and a haze in his sight and a reflex that stuck.
Damian knew when he was being punished. The bursts of pain curled around his back and a gentle hand would soothe him right after with something cold being laid over his spine. The face he looked up at was kind. Safety was written on every feature and scar on her face. She never meant to hurt him. She was protection.
He couldn't recall her name if he tried.
Damian had no title or phrase to attribute to her. It slipped through his fingers.
He had become more and more aware of his place over time. More and more trips where he was able to sleep rested against Protection's chest.
He was an heir. To a demon as well as a bat. She whispered it to him again and again.
"You will be great. You will inherit what is yours. With that comes no rest for the powerful." She always said then. "You will go where I cannot follow."
He was too exhausted to listen to anything more. He didn't even know what she meant.
She held his hand and pressed his finger against a button. Noise rang out before Protection disappeared.
Damian got into a stance he didn't know he learnt. He pointed a determined stare against shiny wood, fingering something in his pocket. A man opened the door. He was pale and old and balding. He didn't know people could be that white.
Damian must have been beckoned in, since the next thing he knew was that his belly was full and he was in a bed. He didn't know how he got there. He didn't remember who dropped him off.
Memory slid through his fingers, never staying long enough for him to register it.
Damian blinked to awareness one morning, when the table around him was full with people and half-eaten food was in front of him. He looked up at them. They felt familiar. They were safe. He didn't want to disrupt it. There were aches in his bones, but it felt far away. He was awake, he was sure of it.
He observed the table full of life, smiling.
A man came up behind him and scooped him up, causing him to flail and reach for a weapon before he registered the arms holding him. Protection. Damian sagged and leaned into the hold.
"Love you, Baby Bat!" The man proclaimed.
Baby Bat, is that a name? Or a title?
He laughed, the joy too much for the man to hold alone.
"Love you too!" He beamed.
He yawned and the man kissed his head. Damian climbed up to rest on his back and the man supported his weight. He looked around at the rest of the room.
Everyone had paused to stare at them with fond smiles. A girl studied him before getting up to poke at his cheek. Damian hummed inquisitively.
"Damian is no longer empty." She announced.
He ducked down as the room exploded into chaos and yelling. Fear coursed through him and he shook.
The man holding him made it stop with his own shout. He was powerful. He commanded the room. It made Damian grin.
Another man, one that was broader, tilted his head at him. Damian mirrored him when he relaxed.
"Do you know what Cass means by being empty?" He asked gently.
Damian frowned and shook his head. It was frustrating not knowing.
"No?"
The man winced and Damian longed to be small enough to hide in the hoodie of the man holding him. Even if everyone in the room was safe, safety wasn't always a guarantee. Protection still let him get hurt.
Never mind that.
He turned to Cass. There was this crease between his eyebrows.
"Sweetie, what do you mean by Damian being empty before now?"
"Damian was not there, not aware." She pushed, glaring at the man. "Empty. Like how you said a child is expected to be vacant before five."
Damian wiggled out of the arms holding him and he was set on the floor.
"How old am I, then?" He asked, going to Cass's side and hugging her waist.
A teen spoke up, closer in age to him. He looked horrified.
"You're- You're ten."
Ten.
That was older than he expected, for some reason. His shock must have shown on his face, since everyones' faces fell.
A man with a white streak coughed, walking over to crouch down to his level.
"Do you know where we are? Who we are?" He asked.
Why was he being asked so many questions?
"I don't know. You all are Protection." He shrugged. "It doesn't matter." He insisted. "You all are safety. I'm safe."
"We are safety. You are safe." The white-streaked man assured. "But it's important that you know who we are and where we are just in case, anyways." The man shrugged. "We can go at your pace with introductions."
Damian nodded.
His limbs were weighed down, his head was beginning to fog.
"I'm tired, could I go rest?" Damian asked, rubbing at his eyes.
The white-streak man softened. His eyes, while always kind, turned kinder.
"Of course, Damian."
Damian turned and walked right up to the broad man who had winced earlier. He raised his arms. The man picked him up and set him on his hip with ease. He laid his head on the man's chest, the fine stitches coming into focus.
Damian promptly passed out.