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20 years. It had been 20 long years since Damian had fallen into a different dimension during a siege of Nanda Parbat whilst you were in Gotham. Leaving you with Alfred, who was just a year old at the time.
Wayne Enterprises was easy to manage and handle from afar. Setting up proxies, handling things through online meetings with visitations just once every quarter or so, but the League of Assassins was a different story. For them, you had to be present. Show that you were there, that Damian’s heir was there. That the Al Ghul family still held the reins.
For years you had managed to lead the League of Assassins and raise your son. A boy who had too much of his father’s heart with none of the training to break it out of him. But- you were not the Demon's Head and Alfred, without his father, hadn't been trained as well to become one either. And unbeknownst to you, after so long, some soldiers were beginning to become restless.
Slade had been at the forefront of it all. Leading the charge of those soldiers and members of the League. He knew he couldn't just become the Demon's Head, not with Alfred there as heir. His only way to gain control was through you.
The plan was simple enough- When Alfred returned from his trip abroad, take him, kill him and then take you to create another heir. His heir.
"Hold him down." Slade smirked, looking down at a terrified Alfred as he took out his sword. “So I can slit his throat.”
“Slade! Don’t do this- My father will-” Alfred struggled but it was of no use.
“Your father?” His laugh boomed. “He hasn’t been around for 20 years. What makes you think he’ll come now?” He didn’t wait for Alfred to form a rebuttal. “After I’m done with you- I’ll throw you off the far side of the mountain. There won’t even be a body to find.” He said, “And after I’m done with you?” He crouched down, the tip of the sword at Alfred’s throat. “Then I’ll go to your mother- I’ll have these men hold her down and take her and share her and then the League will be mi-”
Slade’s words clogged up in his throat as an arrow stuck in his neck. The blood dripping slowly, his sword dropping down with a clank. The others loosened their hold on Alfred and he looked around just as confused as the rest. Meanwhile Slade’s hands reached to his throat, choking sounds escaping him and then his body hit the floor.
“20 years.” Damian's voice echoed from seemingly all around. “For 20 years, I fought gods and monsters and when I return, I see this?” Another arrow is shot and a light is taken out. “My own League. Plotting to kill my son and rape my wife.” Another arrow, another light. “I have had enough.”
“Keep your eyes open. The Demon's Head is agile and dangerous.”
Another arrow, and more lights were taken out.
“We have the numbers. We can overpower him.”
“This is Damian Al Ghul - The Batman's son. He plans for every possible scenario.”
Another arrow and the darkness slowly started to encompass them.
“He's just one archer. We can take him in the darkness.”
“We know these halls like no other. We can kill him.”
A weathered Damian emerged from the shadows. Older, grey hair, wild green eyes. “You think I don't know my own base? I built it.” He growled and shot one more arrow, the entire place was engulfed in darkness. With the electric lights out, the base was covered in the emergency lights’ red hue.
“Demon’s Head!” One of the League Assassins fell to his knees. “You killed the serpent's head.” He pointed to Slade’s body. “We were just following orders. We're not a threat!”
“No.” Damian's voice echoed in the red darkness and another arrow snipped through the air, killing the assassin.
The rest scattered to find weapons, running towards the armoury. Finding it opened and full made some of them pause.
“This has to be a trap. Why would the Demon's Head leave this place unlocked?”
“Doesn't matter! Arm yourselves and find him!
“Stop! Throw away your weapons and my father will spare you!” Alfred begged but the assassins were already ready for battle.
“The Demon's Head spares no one.”
“I don't want to hurt you.” Alfred raised his own sword. “But I will if I have to.”
They laughed at him then someone said, “Grab him.”
“Big mistake, little demon.”
“You're going to be our lure for your father.”
“No!! Get off me!” Alfred screamed but he was so easily outnumbered.
“Hold him down.”
“The Demon's Head will have to do as we say for his son's life.”
“Break his hands so he can't fight.”
“Gotcha, little demon.”
In the red darkness, a slick sound sliced through the air. The blood unable to be seen or discerned in the red light.
The man closest to Alfred dropped dead, his head slowly rolling away.
“Mer- Mercy-”
“Mercy?” Damian's laugh was maniacal. “It died to bring me home. Until I have erased you all, the fate of my family is still unknown.”
The assassins tried. They tried their hardest but no one was a match for the Demon's Head. One by one, each fell. Blood splatter across the walls and floors, on Damian as well. And all Alfred could do was watch in shock and awe. The man whose stories he'd grown up hearing, the man who still held his mother's heart.
Finally, after what seemed to be ages, the lights came back on and Damian turned to look at Alfred.
“Father?” His voice was timid and small.
“My son…” Damian stared at him.
“All my life, I've died to meet you.” He said slowly, walking towards Damian with measured steps. “I spent so many days and nights wondering if we were anything alike. If I had your strength or not. For 20 long years, I-”
“Oh my son- Look how you've grown.” The sword fell to the floor and Damian cupped Alfred's face. “My beautiful boy. The greatest joy I'd ever known.” For the first time in years, Damian smiled. “I used to tell you that I would make storm clouds cry for you. That when I would go on missions, I'd tell you, it's to capture the wind and sky for you.” He took in how grown Alfred looked. How much of you he had in him and how he was still Damian's little boy who was no longer little anymore.
“I can't imagine what you've had to suffer all these years.” He continued. “All I see in you is strength you hold within.” He embraced Alfred tightly. “All these years, you've had to wonder, if I left you alone. But no more. My son… I'm finally home.”
Silent tears fell from Alfred's eyes as he held his father, returning the embrace with equal measure.
When they broke apart, eyes glistening, Damian spoke. “Go tell your mother I'm home. I'll be there in a moment.”
“Of course.” Alfred nodded and turned to go to you.
Quickly, Damian turned heel and went to the closest rooms. He washed himself of the blood that covered him and found something that would fit him. All he found were the assassin garb that he hadn't had to wear since he'd finished his training decades ago.
“Father? She's waiting.” Alfred came and told him.
Damian nodded, making his way to what once was your and his shared bedroom. On the way, he saw an exceptionally old Titus laying in his dog bed.
“Hello old friend.” He crouched down to pet the animal. “Seems like we've both been waiting a long while, hm?”
Titus sniffed Damian's hand and wagged his tail just barely. The years had taken their toll on him as well.
He stood up straight again and knocked on the door then slipped inside. And there you stood, wringing your hands together, waiting for him, radiant as ever.
“Is it really you, my love?” You asked softly. “Have my prayers finally been answered? Or am I dreaming once more?” You looked at him carefully. His eyes looked so tired, and even though he was smiling, it wasn't the same smile you once knew.
“I… I don't think I'm the same man you fell in love with anymore.” He swallowed, stepping closer. “I'm no longer the man you once knew. I feel as if everything kind and gentle you had once fostered in me, has been torn from within me once more. But still.. I ask even though I don't feel that I have the right to. With everything that I've done in the last 20 years, could you love someone like me?”
“What did you do…?” You asked, not moving from where you stood.
Damian sunk to his knees, palms open in his lap as he stared at his hands. “Left a trail of bodies in my wake. I killed without mercy, I traded allies like bargaining chips. All to just somehow come home to you.” His hands clenched into fists and he looked up, his green eyes looked murky. No longer as bright as you once knew them to be. “I’m not the same man anymore. So I ask again, could you love someone like me? I know you have been waiting so long for me to come home.”
You watched him. He looked like your husband, older, greyer. But you… you weren't sure. What if it was an imposter? What if it was a disguise? Or worse - a spell?
You smiled, ever so slightly. “If that's true, then could you do me a favour? Just a moment of labour?” He nodded, waiting for instructions. “See that wedding bed? Can you carry it far away from here?”
Damian looked at you, then to the bed, then back to you. “Our wedding bed?” He asked, his brows furrowed. “But I- I had built that wedding bed from the wood of the black walnut tree under which we’d first met in Gotham. I had it brought here and planted it to carve out our bed.” His eyes filled with tears. “Do you know what you have asked me?” His voice grew hoarse. “The only way to remove it is to cut it from it's roots!”
“Only my husband knew that- So it must truly be you.” You gasped and ran to hug him tightly.
He breathed you in deeply. You were exactly as he'd remembered but better. His arms wrapped around your and he buried his face into your neck.
“I will love you over and over again, no matter what, where or when.” You whispered as one hand rested at the back of his neck and the other in his hair. “No matter how long it's been. You'll always be mine.” You pulled back slightly and looked at his haunted eyes. “Don't tell me you're not the same person. You're still my husband and all these years I've been waiting-”
He exhaled your name like a prayer. His forehead against yours.
Finally. He was home.