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There was something so comforting about the silence a prayer brings. Watching her rise and then go back down, watching her count. She didn’t smile but she was content.
“Are you done yet?” He called from behind the door.
Silence. She wasn’t done yet.
“Huh? Yeah, I’m done.”
Oh yeah. She took off her hearing aids when she prayed. The house was quiet when she did pray. Maybe hushed whispers echoing through her room but mostly nothing. She slipped off her praying garments, smiling as she did so.
“You can join me if you want next time. It’s generally not accepted for man and woman in the same place but…on a technicality, we’re married.”
Yeah, that was true. In Hell. They had witnesses and they didn’t think they were binding but God said so.
“Isn’t it redundant? Praying to your grandfather?” He wrinkled his nose, approaching her.
“I guess, but-Woah, don’t touch me, I still have isyak in an hour and a half.”
He sat on one end of the couch and they sat on the other. Silence.
“Do you want me to fast with you?”
“Excuse me?”
“I can if you want. There’s a discipline to it and it’s easy-”
“Damian,” Her hand reached out, before retracting. “You can if you want, I’ve been doing this for nearly nine years. I really don’t care if you do or not.”
“I want to.” For some reason, the words seemed to falter out of his mouth.
The weakness that overwhelmed him whenever she was with him was disturbing. It was like the walls had fallen like paper, alarms disarmed by a mere gaze of her eyes. His hands trembled in her wake, body aching with love barely contained. He wanted to say that he was in love but how? His devotion to her was higher than some god, pulling him to his knees and praying for her mercy. A flick of her wrist sent him fluttering away, falling into oblivion.
But that wasn’t the Damian he was raised as.
“Okay then.” She seemed unamused.
Maybe it’s how she was raised but she didn’t care about what path he took with her religion all that much. She tried to not care as much as she could but…it was a nightmare. Knowing who everyone else was in the grand scheme of things made her head hurt.
And Damian?
He never had a religious backing. Judaism? Maybe. Islam? Barely. Christianity? No. And she intended to keep him out of it.
“Something wrong, beloved?”
“Stop it, Dames, you’re gonna make me break my wudu.” It seemed to be a tease but her tone was flat.
He didn’t want to press but he should’ve. But it could wait. She was already annoyed and so was he at some say of the word. He loved her but she could be insufferable sometimes. It was so hard to just say something.
Guess that’s what happens when you date someone with ‘Con’ in their name.
She stepped out after she prayed for the second time that night. She looked tired. Not surprising but she shouldn’t look this tired, it was early for her.
“Do you ever think our children will end up like us?” Kendra held her prayer garment in her hands, looking at it like a child would an old doll.
“Like what?”
Oh god. Children. Could they avoid this topic for a little while longer? Linger in the moonlight of their dreams before then? He sighed quietly, preparing for this.
“I mean…” A silence filled the room. “We were raised to be legacies.”
‘Manufactured.’ A small voice whispered in his head.
“We carried on our family names.” She hugged the cloth closer to her chest. “I always felt bad for not being religious but what if I had kids? I’d want them to be…”
Her eyes finally met his; Hard metal striking emerald in the dirt. He didn’t know what to say. How would you raise kids without knowing what a normal childhood was like?
“I’d want them to go to Heaven at the very least.”
Said by the one who is destined to Hell for lack of a soul, directed to the one who went to Hell when he first died.
“May I?” He reached for their hand, shuffling off the couch.
“Of course.” They laid the cloth out, draping it over the couch.
Damian spun them around for a moment, smiling. It was crazy how beautiful she looked. But that wasn’t the point right now, was it?
“I’ll get up with you tomorrow.” He confirmed, smiling. “Can we talk about this then?”
“Sure thing.” Alessia kissed him on the cheek. “Love you, Dames.”
“I love you too, Kendra.”
He walked out of the apartment, still grinning to himself. A bit of a dork when it came to his partner, his human nature shining through the scarred exterior. Such a dork in fact, it seemed any sort of spatial awareness evaporated once he was in her presence.
“Oh Damian dear, watch where you’re going.” A woman with white hair shuffled around him. She fixed her glasses, pushing them higher on her nose.
Moira. Damian had only met her a couple of times but Alessia loved her by a mile. She looked young but her eyes held more knowledge than anyone else he had ever known, even his grandfather.
“Um, ma’am?” His words were hesitant.
“Yes?”
“Could you tell me…if you hear Alessia-” A pause. “It’s okay.”
“Crying? I’ll tell you when you come back tomorrow.”
Maybe he had hit a sore spot. With Alessia. It made sense. Whatever, maybe that was a problem for tomorrow Damian.
Alessia felt weirded out whenever they had to put their hands anywhere near their pelvic area, even in a resting position. It was comfortable but it always felt a little weird to do. Especially during Ramadan. Something about it felt inherently sexual, even Damian wouldn’t put his hands that low. Well, maybe if she was sitting on him. But that wasn’t intentional.
Hey, what were you supposed to do during Ramadan.
You couldn’t eat, you couldn’t drink, you couldn’t touch yourself, your boyfriend can’t even touch you, what are you meant to do?
Reflect, I suppose. Your future, your relationship with God. But maybe it was like…you’re more tempted to do something because you’re forbidden from doing it. To resist the temptation, the hunger. But why?
The silence of the room was deafening, no rustling sheets, no heavy breathing, just pure…silence.
The night was getting to a point where no moonlight flitted through the curtains, calling for them to come nearer.
They hated this time of year.
Kendra was not made for the silence. But they were too tired to go out and patrol. For as long as they knew, they didn't patrol much during Ramadan. None if they could help it. It got worse as they got older, the migraines grew every day, messing with everything around them.
They wondered if their mother ever experienced something like this before.
Stop. A ring. Not the door. Their phone.
“Heyo.”
“Uhm.” Tentative. But familiar.
“Oh, hello Mum.”
“Did you buka puasa?”
“Yes, mum, I did. I had nasi and ayam.”
“That’s all?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, just checki-”
“Mama.”
“Yes?”
“I…when you had me and Tristan, did you think about it for very long?”
“What?”
“I mean-” They could backtrack now. Just say ‘oh, nothing.’ “You knew the dangers.”
“Of course I did but I got you and your brother, kan?”
“Yeah but-”
“See, it worked out.”
“You weren’t…worried?”
A hitch in their breath. They hated that it was so…evident. So loud. So…cowardly.
“Who do you think I was?” Their mother’s voice broke. “I was young too. Older but young.” A deep sigh. “Hawa, you’re not pregna-”
“No! No! No! Ma, what the hell! No, oh my god!” Alessia shrieked, throwing their phone onto their bed, jumping up.
“Oh good, I thought you were asking because you were-”
“You don’t think I would’ve told you better!” Their panic was boiling over, scared of what their mother was going to say.
“Hawa.” Their mother snapped. “Don’t yell at me.”
Falling into their own silence, they wrapped their own arms around themselves, rubbing their arms. Getting yelled at by your own mother was a different pain. One that hit deeper than the heart, falling into the pit. Technically, they didn’t yell.
“‘M sorry. Bye.”
Yeah, so what to do now? Clock, fuck, what time was it? 11? Already?
‘I miss you.’ Their hands hovered over the keyboard.
‘Sudden.’
‘Can’t say I miss my boyfriend?’
‘I miss you too.’
A smile grew on their face.
‘What time you comin’
‘4?’
‘Barely works but why not? :D’
‘I’ll see you. I love you. Go to bed.’
‘Promise you will too?’
‘Of course.’
They squeed in the isolation of their room. “I love him so much!!!”
They feel asleep easily enough after that, even if their body shook with tears for a moment. But Damian was coming tomorrow!! And he was gonna fast with them!!! Ough!!! It’s like they were married. Like a married couple that lived apart but that was fine. Anything to do with their Damian.
They jolted awake at 3:30am, cold shivers running down their spine. They had a weird gurgling sensation in their stomach, like something was moving. Nothing was moving, nothing was living in there but it felt like there was. Just eat, Ken; it’ll go away eventually.
They could hear their window slide open from their kitchen. They were genuinely going to just eat leftovers, even if Damian had just changed his mind and watched them.
“Hello.” He whispered, as if not trying to stir a child.
“Hey.”
His voice was deeper in the morning as it was with most people. Not deep that it was scary but…sultry even. Nope, Ramadan, at least try for it.
“Alfred made extra food. He was worried you’d go hungry.” He was muttering, but a tired muttering, not a frustrated muttering. He set the tupperware down on the table, opening it up.
“You didn’t have to.”
“Alfred did it, not me.” He stepped back as if shocked she would say he did it.
“Oh, but you definitely asked him.”
“No I didn’t.” He growled back in defiance. He sounded like a wolf but his eyes were like of a wounded puppy’s.
“Whatever you say.” They shrugged, not willing to fight anyone right now.
They sat at the coffee table, due to Alessia’s lack of a proper dining table. More comfortable sitting on the floor anyway. But going from having a massive dining table to eating on the floor with the smallest coffee table known to man was certainly a change.
It didn’t matter. He was with the love of his life.That was compensation enough.
There’s a calm that comes before asking a grave question. Hushed breathing sounding like screams in a quiet room, only the shuffling of cushions being audible. There’s a stinging in her eyes, one that is so recognisable to Damian, it should be a crime. No one should have to suffer like she has all her life.
Molded into being an heir for a throne that rejected her time and time again.
“Do you even want kids, Dames?”
Their voice seemed to crack under the pressure, floodgates threatening to break and wash away all thoughts of the subject.
“Alessia.”
“No, really, I need to know. Now.” She gripped the edges of the table. “I just need to know.”
It’d be a weakness to indulge. Nice to have kids but you watch kids your own age for a while and things…disappear from mind. And you see how your parents fare raising with you and you wonder for a second if you should do it.
“Maybe.”
The time between finishing suhur and the adhan felt like the most sacred part of the day during Ramadan. Waiting for the day to properly start as sunlight waved to you from outside the window.
“How many?”
“1…or 2.” His answers were short, concise but not wholly uninterested. Unsure, scared even but not uninterested.
“I want 5.”
Damian nearly spat out his food. “Five? Why?”
“I like a big family.” They murmured.
Always destined for a big family, never got it. And seeing the Waynes created this stupid sense of envy within them, wanting and dreaming of a day where they could actually achieve something like that? That’s a proper miracle.
“Why, you don’t want it or summat?”
“I would…” Hesitation in his eyes but not in his heart. “I would do anything if it was with you, Ken.”
He could see that, a couple of kids running around, some looking like him, some looking like them, some as a mix. That would be so…wonderful. He’d love it. And if his family were to object, they could go suck a dick. Power wouldn't even be a question if that’s what they wanted. But if the children got their partner’s tenacity, he doubted that they would let the League use them.
Either League to be fair. Alessia wasn’t a soldier like he was.
They were barely a child soldier.
They were bait. Never on purpose but why would you let a power like that run rampant on the world? Where everyone was attracted, magic or not?
None of their kids had to grow up with a target on their back but maybe that was inherent. Damian and Alessia would be their parents, and that was a danger in itself.
“I’ll give you as many children as you’d like.” He finally whispered, gripping their hand.
“Really?”A shine grew in Alessia’s eyes.
And Damian could feel a hot rush grow to his own face. And a smile hidden beneath it.
Maybe this was the life he was meant to lead. A doctor, with their ultra super beautiful, super genius partner next to them. A few kids running around.
Five year old Damian would never have imagined this would happen when he pinned down that little girl for a fight. Her raven hair and at the time, mystical hazel eyes, calling for a challenge.
And when Oliver brought Alessia for one meeting, and they saw glints of emerald through the darkness like a diamond in the rough…their curiosity holding a noose around their heart and they went exploring.
Who would’ve thought that eleven years later their hearts finally surrendered themselves to each other? Sitting by each other in the early dawn, talking about children and families, about to start their first fast together.
Oh, how things happen.