Chapter Text
The pain in Damian’s head woke him up. It pounded against his temples like the drums the League of Assassins used for show fighting. His body was sore and his neck definitely has a cramp. The heat and smell of his own breath reeled back at him and - There were metallic chains wrapped around his body.
Damian opened his eyes with difficulty, only to meet the darkness of a bag thrown over his head. He was tied to a foldable chair, his entire back aching from spending so long sitting on it. Adrenaline ran through his body with a whirlwind of questions:
What happened? Where was he? Who dared kidnap him? And how did they had the jump on him?
Damian bit his lower lip to stop the train of thoughts and focused on his other senses to examine his surroundings.
He first heard the low buzzing of a neon light right above him and smelled the faint scent of cleaning products in the air. Further in the distance, beeping noises came muffled. He tasted bitterness in his dry mouth like when he had just woken up from a long sleep. Damian didn’t hear noise coming from outside or felt any wind so he guessed he was probably underground. Not in a cave though, the air wasn't damp or cold.
With his head hurting, he struggled to remember the details of the last few hours. Maybe only that he split up with Father. Instead of wasting time on battling his brain, he decided to work on freeing himself.
It proved to be more difficult than anticipated. He even broke his thumb and dislocated a shoulder to try to squeeze through, without sucess. Whoever tied him is good—very good, Damian thought with growing dread. He tried one last time a technique taught by his mother when the door creaked open.
The footsteps were light. Too light to be anyone in the family. They echoed strangely around Damian, as if the both of them were in a small room... or a cell.
Damian went completely still, waiting for the newcomer to speak but they remained silent. Damian could feel their glare, even with the bag still on his face.
“Don’t bother wasting your energy on escaping,” they spoke suddenly with a grating voice. “You’ll never get out.”
The person’s voice was heavily modulated, even more than Todd’s. Damian couldn’t tell their age, gender or if they had any conditions afflicting their respiratory system.
“Many have said that. And all failed to contain me,” he replied.
His captor clicked his tongue.
“Arrogant brat,” they spat as they circled around Damian. “That attitude always ruined everything."
They grabbed his throat.
“I watched you for a while.”
They squeezed, making Damian yelp.
“And it drives me crazy how you treat them.”
Them ?
“You think yourself so superior, right? You think you’re above wasting time in their company ?”
Damian thrashed as much as he could to free himself.
“You took them for granted. They loved you. They saw your potential. They never thought you were a lost cause and gave you so many second chances. And you. Didn’t. CARE !”
Then they knocked him out cold.
-
Damian breathed heavily. He felt his stomach twisting as he looked down at his alternate self. His head hanged low, his body completely still except for the slow rising of his chest below the Robin symbol. Rage and disgust battled in his heart at the sight of the logo.
As well as regret.
And guilt.
To think he only thought of “Robin” as a costume and a step towards becoming Batman…
To think he cared so little about its legacy.
That he cared so little for Steph.
For Jason.
For Tim.
For… Dick…
But it’s gonna be ok. He’s gonna fix everything.