Chapter Text
It had been hard for Cam to integrate with the people of the lab. She had been warned, very extensively, before she took the job that it was a close group and gaining their respect would be difficult. It was a hard won victory, and only happened after she verbally destroyed a prosecutor for insulting their work.
Even then, there had been an aftertaste of distrust and insubordination. Especially from Brennan.
And this? This was not going to help.
She sighed, trying not to let the annoyance come through, and smiled. “Damian you know I love you and you’re my favorite assistant, but why are you here and not back at Blüdhaven?”
The man in question was standing in front of her, arms crossed with a glare that could read as intimidating if she hadn’t known him since he was barely above her waist in height. Instead, what she saw was that he was nervous.
He looked away, “Me and the new head coroner did not get along,” Damian says.
“I see. But why are you here?”
Damian shifted his posture. “I ah, may have said some choice words that got me fired. The Jeffersonian is a prestigious institution and you’re here, so I figured why not get a job here?”
Cam’s eye twitched. People don’t just get jobs at the Jeffersonian, they’re difficult to get and few and far between. That’s not something you do on a whim.
He continued; “I already talked to Goodman, it took a little persuasion but if you’re okay with it then he’s willing to hire me as your assistant.”
Now he was giving her puppy eyes. Or at least, as close to puppy eyes as she’s ever seen him get. “How exactly did you ‘persuade’ Goodman? Please tell me you didn’t bribe him.”
“…”
“Oh my god! You did! If people find out that won’t look good for the institution.” Cam half yelled and swatted him on the arm. She glared him down.
His eyebrows pinched and he frowned. “Are you mad at me?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” she replied while shaking her head.
“Does this mean I won’t get the job?”
-And Camille doesn’t even have to think about her answer. She pulls him into a hug before he can even react.
“I’m glad to have you here,” she couldn’t keep a smile from creeping up her face. “It hasn’t been the same without you around you know?”
Damian, who had been standing uncomfortably not returning the hug untensed a little. He maneuvered his hands from his side into an awkward half hug. “But you’re still mad?”
“So mad. Never do this again, or at least make sure I never find out about it,” Cam let him go and took a step back.
Damian had a slight smile on his face, a contrast to the usual scowl. He’d grown so much literally but also as a person since Cam first met him.
She remembers back then, when he had tagged along with his brother to the BPD where she and his brother had been partners. Cam had loved being a cop back then, but eventually she got tired of the nonstop corruption and never ending crime.
That’s how she had ended up a medical examiner right there in Blüdhaven.
Back then Damian had been a brash little kid with a cocky attitude. He only listed to Dick, and even then that was in the best situations.
When he came to her at barely over 18 to intern in the morgue it was like he was a different person. She had kept in touch with Dick over the years but it wasn’t the closest of contacts, so this was a shocker.
She had told him he’d grown up a lot after the interview. It’s only been two years since then, but Damian had still made a lot of progress on how he treated the people around him.
It was easy to see after working with the man for a while in Blüdhaven that the manners, or lack thereof, was instilled in him a long time ago and he was trying to work through it to be better.
To Cam, that meant more than people who were content with staying mediocre and stuck in their views.
But what spoke the most were the moments where he was kind; the way he treated the family members that came into the morgue to ID a dead body; the way she caught him holding and petting the stray cat that lives in the alley behind the morgue, the one that always runs from people; and the way he’s always talked about the bodies that come through the morgue like people that were once alive instead of pieces of meat.
And so Camille Saroyan hired him on as a permanent assistant.
“-ey, what are you thinking about so hard? Are you reminiscing on the past old lady?”
She snapped back to the present with a hand waving in front of her face. Cam squinted at him. “Don’t push it. I’m still very mad you pulled something like that, and as a punishment you won’t be my assistant-”
Damian’s face dropped completely in a fraction of a second.
“-You will be assisting anyone in the lab who needs it. Including our FBI liaison Seeley Booth. I won’t force you to do anything that could put your life on the line but I will expect you to be respectful.”
At that, somehow his face dropped even further.
…
“So what is this impromptu meeting about?” Hodgins voices what they were all thinking as he entered one of the conference rooms the Jeffersonian hosted. He chose the seat next to Zach, across from Booth. “You’ve even got Booth here.”
An email had been sent to the whole team that morning, phrasing vague enough that no one knew the reason.
“Thank you, Hodgins, for getting here 5 minutes late and delaying this far longer than I would have liked,” Dr. Saroyan leveled him with a flat look.
The entomologist smiled, “Always a pleasure,” he said with a nod.
Booth looked around the room and zeroed in on Cam. “Why am I here? You have me lumped in with the squints, I’m not a squint Cam.”
She stared back at him, unwielding, “Maybe if you’d let me speak I could tell all of you,” she surveyed them, “Any other pointless questions on why everyone is here that only prevent me from telling you?”
At the silence that met her, Camille clasped her hands on the conference table. “Great! Alright come on in,” she called to one of the side doors.
The whole conference room perked up and looked towards the door. In came a very tall man with tan skin, black hair, and deep green eyes. Although the basic description seemed like it could be for a normal person, this guy was decidedly not normal looking. In fact he looked…
“Wow,” Angela was the first to speak, “You could pass as the second coming of Bruce Wayne,” she said, impressed.
And it was true; if not for the slightly different color palette and the baby fat still clinging to his face he could almost be a dead ringer for a younger version of the billionaire.
He responded with a raised eyebrow. “I get that quite often. I’m Damian Al Ghul, and I suppose I’ll be working with you all from today on.”
The reactions around the room were varied, but not wanting to test Dr. Saroyan’s patience, no one uttered a word.
Seeing that Damian wasn’t intending on saying anything else Cam picked up where he left off, “Yes, he was hired on as an assistant for the entire lab. Whether it’s helping with actual lab work or going on a coffee run, he’ll help out at your request.”
Damian’s face soured to a scowl directed at an uninhabited corner of the room.
Dr. Brennan raised her hand.
“Yes, Dr. Brennan?” Cam sighed.
“Is he qualified to work in the lab? He looks very young.” She questioned, staring directly at the newly-minted Jeffersonian assistant.
Damian crossed his arms but didn’t say anything. Once again Camille had to speak for him; “He worked under me for 2 years in Blüdhaven, and I will vouch for the quality of his work. He will admit if something is above his ability or if he is unqualified. Right, Damian?”
“Yes. Tt.” He replied with a scoff.
Smiling at everyone in the room, Dr. Saroyan clapped, “Good, well, we’ll have more time for introductions later but we have a case that needs our attention. Everyone going to the scene needs to get kits together.”
Conversation started up again and people began to leave to conference room. Before she was completely out of the room, Cam turned back to Damian who had been awkwardly standing waiting to be told what to do.
“Damian! You can ride with Brennan and Booth to the scene. Make some friends,” after that, she promptly disappeared.
Damian wilted and looked between the two people and the door Dr. Saroyan had just left out of. “Yes Ma’am…” he sighed.
He prepared himself to approach, praying that he wouldn’t strangle anyone by the end of today.
…
The first few minutes of the car ride were stiflingly, painfully silent.
“So Blüdhaven, huh? What’s that like?” Booth finally broke through the quiet.
“Not great. I only moved there for my brother, I don’t really see what he likes about the city,” Damian replied absentmindedly.
“Ah, well uh, favorite superhero? Aren’t there a couple of guys up there in New Jersey? Batman and Co.?” Booth was using all of his 2 years experience of being around bones/the other socially inept people of the lab to try and converse with the kid. Superheroes were always a popular topic, no way it doesn’t work.
Damian hums contemplatively then gives an answer, “Well if we’re getting technical I don’t have a favorite superhero. The ‘guys’ up in New Jersey are all vigilantes, which are illegal might I add. Although if I had to pick, during my time in Blüdhaven nighwing came to my aid so he is… alright, I suppose.”
“Yeah I guess they are. I haven’t heard much of that guy so… You know I’m really more of a green lantern guy myself.” Booth was stretched thin on his reply, trying very hard to not hate the guy. He was nothing if not abrasive and difficult.
“Green lantern is a bumbling idiot.”
unfortunately for those in the car who more in tune with social conventions (one Seeley Booth, exclusively) that cut off the rest of the conversation.
Perhaps even more unfortunate, this didn’t stop the other two.
“You know superheroes are very fascinating anthropologically speaking,” Dr. Brennan begins. “They fill a specific niche within society, as the ‘saviors’ of the common people and protectors from evil. Traditionally this was filled with mythological and religious figures, but with the advent of tangible figures that’s fallen out of favor.
Instead of praying to gods or spirits when people are in danger, now they hope for a hero to come and save them,” she paused in her explanation.
“So what you’re saying is superheroes have replaced Jesus or something? That seems a bit far fetched,” Booth interjects, ever the skeptic.
Brennan acknowledged him with a look that asked ‘Are you stupid?’ and Booth could only return with one that said ‘No, but compared to you yes.’ Meanwhile, Damian just sat in the back wondering why the hell they randomly stopped talking. Not that he’s complaining, of course.
“…Well, statistically religion is at a record low for this millennium, but I never said that was a good thing,” Brennan starts. “I imagine the effects on the heroes themselves aren’t good. They’ve ended up filling the shoes of these great myths that are completely impervious of the woes of life. The heroes we have today are merely…” she paused, “fallible.”
Damian clears his throat from the back of the car before speaking, “How is that bad for heroes? That seems like it would be worse for the people that need saving,” he pointed out.
She considered his point for a moment, “I can see what you mean, but unrealistic expectations are most difficult for the person those expectations are placed on. There is always a margin of error, but people have been conditioned to expect perfection from them. Even at peak performance no hero could keep up with that.”
“…I see.”
“My personal favorite superhero is Wonderwoman.”
“A respectable and admirable choice.”
Booth whipped around to look at Damian. “Wait so she gets ‘respectable and admirable’ while I get ‘bumbling idiot’? What’s with that?”
Damian smirked. “It’s pretty simple. She chose a valiant hero of the people, you chose green lantern.”
“You know what-“
“-Before either of you get too heated, I actually have a question for you Mr. Al Ghul,” Dr. Brennan cut him off. The car fell silent while waiting for her to speak, despite the obvious annoyance on Booth’s part. “You share a lot of the same facial markers as Bruce Wayne, it would be highly unlikely for you two to be unrelated. Are you sure he isn’t your father?”
“Bones! You can’t just ask that!” Booth said, admonishing her forwardness.
“No it’s quite alright,” Damian sighed heavily, summoning patience, “I am quite certain of my parentage, thank you Dr. Brennan,” he said, putting emphasis on the ‘thank you’ in a way that said he wasn’t thankful at all.
After that exchange, the car was once again plunged into silence.