Chapter Text
“Before I have you sign, I must ask, are you sure you want to go through with this?” Dr. Sato’s soft kind eyes looked at Damian with compassion.
"Must you keep asking me such an inane question, I've already said yes." Damian snapped, he hated seeing the look of pity everyone kept giving him.
"It is an important question, many think they can go through with this without fully grasping the consequences." Dr. Sato's eyes somehow turned softer when he smiled, a tinge of sadness marred the corners of his eyes.
"It's just protocol, little D." Dick reached out to pat Damian's hand only to be swatted away.
"He is my child, once he has made up his mind he will stay strong." Talia stroke Damian's head gently, she was not swatted away.
"If you would only tell us who it is, we might be able to set things right. Before going through with such a major surgery." Bruce crouched next to where Dick sat, his hand hovered over Damian's.
Jason snorted where he leaned against the door frame and Tim, sitting in the chair next to the door, paused in his typing.
"There is no point if the object of his affection doesn't reciprocate." Talia glowered at Bruce, who glared back, finally placing his hand on Damian's.
"Yes, well," Dr. Sato cleared his throat, "if you have determined that this is for the best, please sign the release form so we can begin the surgery."
Damian rolled his eyes. He didn't understand why his family had to be here, he would have been fine on his own. He grabbed the clipboard the doctor had handed him and signed his name neatly. He coughed, his hand shooting up to cover his mouth. He was too late, a bit of blood had splattered on the consent form. Removing his hand he stared down at it, a clump of thick white petals came with it.
He felt the room silence, his family ready to fight an opponent they could not punch.
He felt weak, his breath coming in short, burning his throat, leaving a sour taste.
He felt pathetic and that was the worst feeling of all. He hated that this was what had become of him. That he had let his feelings rule him in this way. His mother had warned him all his childhood that love would only hurt him, would hinder him; yet here he was beholden to it, ruined by it.
"Tt." He crushed the petals in his hand.
He grimaced, feeling the hateful tears, that he had tried to keep at bay, drip down his cheeks. A choked sob escaped him, before a hacking cough over took it. He clutched at his chest, the noise from the heart monitor attached to him rising to dangerous levels, the temperature in his head skyrocketing, forcing his veins to bulge, a high pitched ringing overtook his hearing. His fingers dug into in cheeks, his palms covering his open mouth, preventing the bloody saliva from splattering out. His forehead bumped his knees with the force of the last cough. With watery eyes he saw a full flower in his cupped hands, it's waxy white petals let the blood it came out with slide off with ease, dripping, staining the white hospital blanket. The strong sweet smell of it mixed sickeningly with the smell of iron and bile.
The ringing gradually dropped and when he looked up his family were being pushed to one side, their panicked faces pale under the florescent lights. A nurse pat his back, telling him to lay back, trying to comfort him. Dr. Sato pushed his medical bed forward, his calm soft demeanor gone, replaced with the concentration and determination of a doctor who had been working in this field for decades. They rushed him out of the room, the white sterile walls blurring in their wake.
He knew he was dying, his head light, his limbs heavy. He felt relief. When they placed him on the metal bed of the operating room, they placed a plastic mask over his nose and mouth, told him to breathe in and count backwards. He saw a pair of blue eyes reflecting the sky, tousled black hair and a smile brighter than the sun, his arms opened wide, beckoning him for one last hug.
Soft light streamed in through the large window, gently waking Damian up from his dreamless sleep. His mouth felt like sandpaper, his throat felt worse, he tried to lift his hand to rub at it but a weight prevented the action. The weight was warm, comforting and when he looked down he saw Talia holding his hand, half her body laying on the mattress. He tried to call her but all that came out was a rasp, the effort was too much and he fell back into unconsciousness.
“When do you think he will wake up?” Dick asked, pacing the room.
“According to records from other’s surgeries, it can take anywhere from a couple of hours after surgery to three days.” Tim said sitting next to Bruce on the beige couch, his face hidden behind his opened laptop.
“How do…did you hack the hospital records?” Dick asked stopping in front of Tim.
“Is it really considered hacking if it was so easy?” Tim scoffed.
“Yes. Yes, it is.” Dick said.
“What, you going to arrest him, pig?” Jason was lounging on the recliner, an open book in one hand.
“Boys, please let’s be respectful to your brother’s recovery.” Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, his hair looked like it needed brushing, his dress shirt rumpled and unkempt.
Damian watched his family bicker with half opened eyes, he was already annoyed with them. He carefully glanced around, he no longer stayed in the sterile white hospital room he had first been admitted to. He could tell that his father had put him in a private hospital room complete with a two seater couch, two reclining chairs, a coffee table and a giant 4k television hung on the wall. The walls were a light warm colored wood and the giant window that basically covered one side of the room faced the peaks of mountains. He tried to tell them to shut up, instead what came out was a soft gasp. The gasp left a burning sensation in his throat, he needed water.
“Little D!” Dick rushed towards him, “How are you feeling? OMG I’m so relieved that you’re awake.” He sobbed, clasping Damian’s hand to his chest, being careful of the IV needle embedded in it.
Bruce and Tim had followed Dick, but were much more reserved. His father looked relieved, smiled at him and ruffled his hair. Tim smirked, the bags under his eyes looked darker and more defined. Jason had left the room, when he returned he brought a nurse with him. The nurse worked around them, checking Damian’s vitals, while Dick prattled on about how relieved Kori and Mari would be when they found out he had woken up. Damian did not have the energy to make Dick shut up, though he was relieved he was there, something he would never admit to. The nurse gave Bruce a cup of shredded ice, giving him instructions to feed it to Damian slowly. She helped put him in a sitting position, adding pillows for back support. She then excused herself, stating that she would inform the doctor of his wakefulness.
The ice that his father fed him was the best thing he had ever tasted. He wanted more, was frustrated when he couldn’t snatch the cup away due to his heavy limbs. He was shaky and uncoordinated, Tim and Jason teased him, taking advantage of the fact that he couldn’t retaliate both physically and verbally. Bruce scolded them, feeding Damian another sliver of ice that melted far too quickly on his overheated tongue. The room quieted down when Dr. Sato walked in, his soft smile directed to the whole room, when it landed on Damian it softened further.
“I am happy to see you awake. If you would allow me to do a few tests?” He indicated for the rest of the family members to leave the room.
They all reluctantly complied, Bruce squeezed his shoulder telling him to call if he needed him. Damian rolled his eyes, why would he need him? Dr. Sato gave him a brief check up, checking his breathing with a stethoscope and his eyes with a small pen light. When satisfied, the doctor brought the stool chair that had been under the hospital computer in the room, close to the bed, sat on it, looked at his clipboard and then gave Damian a serious look.
“Physically, it seems that you will recover wonderfully.” Dr. Sato stated, “Do you remember why you had this operation?”
Damian scoffed, opened his mouth to respond, but when he realized that he couldn’t remember his mouth shut with an audible clack. He rubbed at his neck, trying to message it, trying to distract from the uncomfortable feeling of blankness. He looked around the room, did he get hurt? Obviously, his throat burned and he had bandages wrapped around his neck, but what hurt him? His hand slowly drifted down to his chest, he had bandages there too, the skin felt painful, inflamed, he hadn't noticed before.
"I was hurt." Damian rasped, unsure of his respond.
"In a way," Dr. Sato nodded, "we removed a growth from your lungs and heart, it was causing an obstruction to your airways."
He tried to remember, a subtle image of a memory crept up and quickly slipped away. It felt like a cold bolt had struck him, the sudden pain making him wince.
"No, don't," Dr. Sato patted the blankets next to Damian, "rushing it will do you no good and will only hurt. Many patients in your shoes will have temporary amnesia, slowly you will regain most of your memories."
"Most?" Damian couldn't go above a whisper, his throat burning with any effort of speech.
"Hm, yes, all of the relevant memories will return, except for the ones that caused the injury in the first place." Dr. Sato wrote something on his clipboard and stood up, "You were very brave, I am glad you pulled through. I will inform your family to give you some time alone to process, I'm sure they would like to go eat and shower. Please rest, you need plenty of it." He smiled and left, the door giving a soft click as it shut.
Damian stared at his hands, a faint image of white petals lingered, but he couldn't remember the shape. He shakily touched his chest, it was solid, his flesh intact under the gauze. He took a deep breath, it tasted of blood but it was clear. His heart beat without constraint, comfortable in his chest. Damian could feel it, that something was missing, he gripped his hospital gown. It felt like he could reach in if he pressed a bit harder, like he could fill the cold void left behind by whatever they had removed. Fill it with his fist, squeeze his heart so that it could feel warm. It was an silly thought, dangerous even, he should be grateful that it was gone. Wet droplets landed on his hand, large and hot, with a shock he realized they were tears. He was crying and couldn't figure out why, all he knew was that this emptiness was unnatural. He had forgotten something important.
He wanted his father, he wanted his mother, he needed his family.