Chapter Text
Damian Wayne wasn't an average child. He never has been. His biological father was Bruce Wayne, aka Batman, the dark knight of Gotham City. His mother was Talia al Ghul, the daughter of the Demon Head Ra's al Ghul.
He was born to inherit not only the Batman legacy but also the League of Assassins. He was meant to be the new Alexander the Great. And when he was younger, he dreamed of being like Alexander the Great. He wanted to conquer the world and be the leader of his new world.
His mother didn't want that; she wanted him to grow as a normal kid and have the life she didn't have. So when Damian was a baby, she gave him up.
He didn't remember that. He was just two years old when his grandfather got him back.
He didn't remember what life was before his time in the League.
He wished he could.
Because what had happened after he went to live with his father reminded him of something. His earliest memories were of a brown crib surrounding him as he swung one of his arms around while sucking one of his fingers on the other. He was carefree, joyful, and loved.
His father didn't love him before his own death. Damian understood that. Who could love an unwanted child who was a cold-blooded murderer?
His mother loved him, but she didn't know him. For the first 8 years of his life, he didn't get to know who his mother was because his grandfather kept him a secret from his own mother. So for all she knew, he was still with his adopted family.
How wrong she was. She learned about him when Damian was 8 and a half years old. When she found him lying on the ground clutching his broken arm while trying to calm his breathing after his grandfather's punishment, Talia al Ghul didn't or maybe couldn't comprehend that he was hers.
Even then, she came to him and calmed him down, her voice quiet, tone soft and gentle. Damian wasn't good at reading people. Even then, when he looked into her eyes, he didn't understand the sparkle in them at first. It was intense but warm.
But then he saw her hands shake lightly. He would have missed it if he wasn't a trained assassin and hadn't been learning how to recognize even the slightest movements from a young age.
But he did.
Understanding filled his being. It was a concern for his well-being, but unlike his grandfather, it was for him, not for what he represented. It shocked him, and he let her do what she wanted.
She helped him to her room and took care of his injured arm. She wanted to know what had happened and who he was. She didn't know about a new child recruit.
She got her answer.
After that, her eyes turned cold and calculating, and she told him to return to his room.
The next day his grandfather finally introduced him to his mother, who turned out to be the same woman who helped him.
He was happy to meet her.
She was not.
She kept her distance, watching him from afar. Damian thought she was disappointed by how much he lacked in his skills. He wanted her to be proud, so he worked harder and longer until every muscle and bone in his body was sore, and everything hurt.
One day he found her wandering around his training room while he was learning from one of his teachers. Naturally, he wanted to impress her, so he showed how mighty he was.
He quickly defeated his teacher and was ready to cut his throat. After all, the League wasn't a place for failure or the weak.
But then he looked at her and saw how her face twisted in horror and fear, and Damian stopped.
His mother was scared of him. He didn't understand why she was. At least then, he didn't.
Enter Richard Grayson, and Damian's life changed forever. Richard Grayson was a man of many faces and names. He was the first Robin, Damian's father- Batman's first partner in crime-fighting. He was Bruce Wayne's first adopted son. He was Nightwing, the leader of the Teen Titans and later the Titans.
Richard Grayson was the new Batman. Father's first son took the legacy which belonged to Damian by birthright. Damian was angry, but Grayson made him his Robin and took him under his wings after his Father died and his mother disowned him for Damian's own safety.
Their life together started rocky. They moved from a manor to a penthouse in the city. They lived together and fought together while Damian said many horrible things to his Batman, and Grayson's frustration with him never stopped.
Damian now understood he was being difficult, but back then, he was too proud and scared to admit it.
Back then, he was too much arrogant and terrified to admit anything.
There were many instances where Damian was sure Grayson would send him back to League to his grandfather. He waited for the shoe to drop every second, minute, and hour of every passing day, but Grayson never even mentioned his return to the League.
For the first time he could remember, Damian felt safe and happy. Grayson and Alfred, and even Stephanie were becoming his home. He belonged somewhere. He was loved by someone.
Damian felt like this could be his chance to be part of a family.
Alfred was the family butler, but Damian loved him more as his grandfather than the biological one he already had. Stephanie could be called something akin to an older sister.
Grayson was many things to Damian. He was Damian's mentor, his adopted brother, and his Bab-. Some things were just better to left unsaid.
Everything changed when his Father came back. He was never dead, just lost in the time stream. First, Drake returned, then Stephanie stopped coming over as much as she used to. Finally, Father made them move back to the manor. Father returned to being Batman and Gray- Richard to Nightwing.
Richard left back to Blúdhaven, leaving Damian with his Father.
Damian wished so painfully Richard didn't leave then. Maybe he wouldn't have forgotten everyone. Perhaps he wouldn't have if he was still Damian's Batman.
Maybe if he remembered, Alfred wouldn't have died, and so it wouldn't be Damian's fault Alfred was dead.
Maybe Father wouldn't hunt him like a criminal when Damian just wanted to get Alfred back. Maybe Father would still love him as he did when Damian returned from his own death. His father did love him; Damian just had forgotten where to look after everything that happened. Or maybe he didn’t. Damian wasn’t sure anymore.
As Damian lay on his new bed, he wished he was an average child for the first time in his life.
Maybe then his father would love him enough to tell him he loved him. Maybe Richard wouldn't have been shot then. Maybe Alfred would still be alive and the only person Damian had left. Maybe he would still have his family with him.
Perhaps he wouldn't be alone then.