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Summary
The hit resonates above the noise of the city. His head snaps to the side, eyes forced to the cracked concrete below. He can feel the blood beading where her ring has carved into his cheek and it stings under her touch but the vitriolic Arabic that so sharply rolls off her tongue right after cuts so much deeper.
"You are an only child, Ibn al Xu'ffasch."
Her nails dig into his jaw, forcing his head up to meet her eyes. "You have always been an only child. You'd do well to remember that."
A part of him resents her for calling him the sole heir. Splinters at the idea he was born alone. Another wonders if she is right. If he can even call himself a brother anymore when his is scattered, thousands of miles away, ashes in an unmarked grave.
". . . I understand, Mother."
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AKA - Damian was a twin, once. But the League has no need for two heirs, and as far as he knows the Bat must only need one son. So when he is sent to live with his father, it is not merely blood relation that makes him refuse the idea of new family. Not that they know this.