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“Your mom is on her way.”
Damian stilled. Pure shock ran through his face to the point where his lips parted slightly. More raw emotion than he usually allowed himself to show in this place, where every second he felt like he would reveal his secret identity by accident.
“You called my mother?”
The principal looked him up and down with that familiar mix of disapproval and triumph. “We take skipping class very seriously, young man, and your mother answered first.”
How did they even get her number? Maybe she had volunteered it herself during the initial paperwork, insisting on being listed as a primary contact despite her unpredictable schedule. Or perhaps his father had added it quietly as a backup. Either way, Damian doubted Bruce would have expected this outcome. He preferred to take care of things himself.
“How long ago did you call her?” He tried to keep his voice even, almost bored, but the idea of his mother dropping everything and coming here because of skipped classes felt strangely off-balance. She missed holidays more often than not, sending gifts or brief calls instead, but she was on her way now for this?
Headmaster Hammer had hated Damian from day one. The boy would swear on every blade he owned that the man had a personal vendetta. All because Damian was a Wayne and the fact he preferred slipping away to spend time with Jon and Mia rather than endure another hour of lectures on material he had absorbed before he could even read properly.
“She said she would be here—” Hammer checked the clock on the wall with deliberate slowness.
There was a knock at the door.
“Now.”
Talia let herself in without waiting for an invitation. She wore a beautiful deep green abaya Her never-ending collection of gold jewelry gleamed at her neck, ears, fingers, and wrists, subtle but unmistakable. She was technically a princess.
“Mr. Hammer,” she acknowledged with a cool, polite nod before settling into the chair directly beside her son. Her presence was overbearing.
It felt surreal. Damian would have preferred facing Bruce a thousand times over in a situation like this. At least his father would handle it with efficiency, one lecture, and then move on to more important matters. His mother’s involvement promised something far worse.
“I wish I could come under better circumstances,” Talia said, her voice smooth yet carrying that authority she had in the league.
“Mother—” Damian tried to interject, already sensing the direction this was heading.
“Khalas.” She turned her head and fixed him with a glare from her seat, using that no-nonsense tone that had stopped him in his tracks since he was small. The one that allowed no further argument.
He shrank a bit in his chair, shoulders dropping in a way he had not done since early childhood.
“Yes, Mrs. Al Ghul, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Hammer said, visibly pleased to be dealing with someone other than Bruce “pushover” Wayne. “Your son has been skipping class recently, and we are lucky we caught him this time before it became a larger pattern.”
Talia turned her full attention on Damian, her emerald eyes narrowing. “Is this true, Damian?”
There was no lying to Talia Al Ghul.she could give the lasso of truth a run for its money. He shifted in his seat, his only choice to pivot.
“Mother, let me explain myself.”
“Damian Al Ghul Wayne.” Her tone sharpened further, and the glare intensified, making the principal’s office feel ten times smaller.
He swallowed hard. “I was going to see some peers. I maintain a four point zero average, so yes, if you must know, I did leave class for a day. It was not without reason.”
“Oh, you want to be the delinquent of the school,” she replied, her voice rising with that dramatic flair she has always had when it came to her precious son. Her precious son who was currently in huge trouble. “I raised my son to be a delinquent?”
‘No, Mother, you raised me to be an assassin’, he thought bitterly, but kept the words locked behind his teeth and simply bristled in silence.
“No, Mother.”
“Mr. Hammer, I apologize deeply for my son’s foolish behavior,” Talia continued, turning back to the headmaster with practiced poise. “This will be corrected. He will be present every single day from now on. I will make sure of it personally.”
“About that,” Hammer interjected, that sly, satisfied smile creeping back onto his face, “your son is going to be suspended for three days. This is his third strike. It is school policy.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“Shu suspension? What is that?” Talia looked to Damian for clarification, genuine confusion crossing her features. She had never attended a traditional school in her life, so these rules remained foreign to her.
“It means I cannot attend school for three days,” he explained in a low voice, trying to downplay it as if it were nothing important.
“He does not go to school, so you give him more opportunities to stay home and do nothing?” Talia asked, shaking her head slowly in disbelief. She had that theatrical way of accepting fate when it came to disciplining him, especially after all the long nights she had spent overseeing his education with tutors and strict schedules. “Come, Damian. We will discuss this properly in the car.”
“Well actually—” the headmaster started, clearly wanting to drag the meeting out longer.
The door opened again.
“Sorry I’m late.”
Bruce walked in and stopped short, too stunned to speak for a moment. Damian tried to pull his hood over his head, wishing he could disappear entirely into the fabric.
Talia’s eyes widened for the briefest moment when Bruce entered the office. Bruce looked equally stunned, his usual composed mask cracking just enough to show genuine surprise. Both of them were clearly confused about why the principal had contacted the other parent, but neither voiced the question out loud.
Not here, not in front of Hammer. The tension between them was definitely there, but they kept it carefully tucked away for now.
Talia recovered first. She motioned gracefully for Bruce to take the empty chair on her other side. “Sit, Beloved.”
Bruce moved to the seat without argument, his tall frame making the office furniture look smaller. He glanced at Damian, who was still trying to hide beneath his hood, which was weird…then turned his attention to the headmaster.
“Hear what your son has been up to,” Talia said, her voice carrying disappointment tinged with frustration.
Bruce listened as Hammer repeated the details of the skipped classes, the multiple strikes, and the upcoming three-day suspension. While he was slightly upset with Damian for the recklessness, he was not overly mad. The boy maintained excellent grades and the infractions seemed more like a cry for normal teenage freedom than anything malicious. Bruce had seen far worse from his other children over the years.
He also needed Damian to have normal friends but he didn’t want to say that out loud.
“We accept the punishment,” Bruce said calmly once Hammer finished. “Damian will serve the suspension, and he will be kept busy during that time. We will make sure of it.” His smile was bright, trying to cheer Damian up.
Talia rolled her eyes at his lax response, the gold earrings swaying with the motion. She crossed her arms, the bracelets clinking softly. “This is exactly why he does these things, Bruce. You are too lenient with him. He needs structure, not another opportunity to wander off with his friends whenever he pleases.”
Damian sank lower in his chair between them, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole. Having both parents in the same room for a school matter felt like standing in the middle of two colliding forces. His mother’s intensity and his father’s measured calm created a pressure he had not experienced since he was dropped off at his fathers.
Hammer watched the exchange with poorly hidden interest, clearly enjoying the family drama unfolding in his office. “The suspension begins immediately. We expect full cooperation, and any further incidents will result in more severe consequences.”
Talia nodded firmly, already planning in her head. “He will not have the chance for further incidents. I will see to that.”
Bruce placed a steady hand on Damian’s shoulder for a brief second; a quiet gesture of support mixed with warning. “We will handle this as a family. Thank you for bringing it to our attention, Mr. Hammer.”
The headmaster looked a little disappointed that the meeting was wrapping up so neatly, but he gave a curt nod. “See that you do.”
Talia stood first, smoothing down her clothes with elegant hands. She gave Damian a look that promised a long conversation once they were alone. Bruce rose as well, towering over the desk. The three of them left the office together, the hallway outside feeling both too bright and too exposed after the stuffy tension inside.
Once they reached the parking lot, Talia turned to Bruce with a sigh. “You see? This is what happens when you give him too much freedom. He tests the boundaries because he knows you will not come down hard enough.”
Bruce kept his voice even. “He is doing well academically. Skipping a few classes is not the end of the world, Talia.”
Damian trailed behind them, hood still up, cheeks burning with embarrassment. The car ride home was going to be long. The idea of a three-day suspension did not sound like a reward. It sounded like three days of intense parental oversight from two very different worlds.
Talia stopped in the parking lot beside her sleek black car. She gestured toward the back door with a quick motion of her hand, her voice low but firm. “Yalla, in the car.”
Damian obeyed without argument, sliding into the backseat and pulling the door shut behind him. He stared out the opposite window, trying to block out the conversation he knew was coming.
Talia and Bruce remained outside the vehicle. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the asphalt as they faced each other.
“I do not want my son to become unruly,” she said, keeping her tone measured but insistent. “Skipping classes sets a dangerous precedent. He needs discipline if he is to amount to anything beyond these childish rebellions.”
Bruce leaned against the side of the car, his expression calm but thoughtful. “What he did was normal for a teenager, Talia. This is not the same as running wild.”
He knew the words would be hard for her to fully accept. Neither Talia nor Damian had been allowed anything close to a normal childhood. Training, expectations, and survival had shaped them. Normal teenage mistakes did not fit into that framework.
Talia sighed, glancing toward the car where her son sat. “It is difficult to see it that way. I worry he will lose his edge if we allow too much leniency.”
Bruce studied her for a moment. “What are you even doing here? In Gotham, I mean. I was not expecting you.”
“I was already in town for business when the school called,” she replied simply. “It seemed important to handle it in person.”
They stood in silence for a few beats, the distant sounds of students leaving for the day drifting across the lot. Shared concern for their son bridged some of the usual gaps.
“We should continue this at the manor,” Bruce suggested.
Talia nodded once. “I agree. I will follow you there.”
She slipped into the driver’s seat while Bruce headed toward his own vehicle. Damian remained quiet in the back as the two cars pulled out of the lot, one after the other. The drive to the manor stretched ahead.
They arrived at the manor in a quiet procession. Alfred met them at the door, ever the picture of perfect composure. “Madam Talia, welcome. It has been some time.”
Talia offered him a small, genuine smile. “Alfred. Always a pleasure.”
From the living room came the unmistakable sound of groaning. Dick, Jason, and Tim were sprawled across the couches after a long day, and they made no effort to hide their reactions when they saw who had arrived with Bruce and Damian.
“Great,” Jason muttered, tossing a pillow aside. “Company.”
Dick tried for politeness but could not quite manage it.
Tim just sighed and sank deeper into the cushions, already anticipating how stressful the evening was about to become.
Damian made a beeline for the stairs, desperate to escape upstairs to his room. He did not make it far.
“Ta’ali,” Talia called after him, the command to come back. “Sit.”
He stopped mid-step, shoulders tense. With obvious reluctance he turned around and walked back to the living room, dropping onto the couch. Being disciplined in front of his brothers like this felt worse than any suspension but he wouldn’t dare talk back to his mother now.
Talia remained standing, “You will stay home for these three days. No Robin. No going out with friends. You will focus on your studies and your training.”
Bruce stepped forward, his voice low but steady. “Talia, there is no need for that. I have custody and he is scheduled for patrol tonight. We can handle the consequences without completely upending his other responsibilities.”
She turned to him with a look that left no room for debate. “No. He needs this more than he needs another night running rooftops. This is not up for discussion, Beloved.”
Bruce held her gaze for a long moment, then sighed deeply and rubbed the back of his neck. He knew better than to push. The rest of the family watched the exchange in awkward silence, the brothers exchanging glances but wisely staying out of it.
Talia turned back to her son. “Go upstairs, Damian. We will begin your assignments after dinner.”
He stood without another word and headed up the stairs, footsteps heavier than usual. There was also a strange comfort in his mother taking charge so decisively. It reminded him of older days, even if it stung right now.
Once he was gone, Talia moved toward the kitchen with purpose. She filled the kettle and began preparing a pot of tea, Alfred offered to assist but she waved him off gently, preferring to do it herself.
Bruce followed her into the kitchen, leaning against the counter. “We need to find a middle ground on this.”
Talia did not look up from the pot. “Middle ground, yes. But not at the expense of his future. He is still a boy, Bruce. Even if he forgets that sometimes.”
The tea steeped slowly between them as the manor settled into a new Talia Al Ghul centered rhythm. Upstairs, Damian sat on his bed staring at the wall, already dreading the next three days but knowing resistance would be pointless.
Although she appeared strong and unyielding on the outside, Talia’s heart ached on the inside. She hated seeing her baby sad, even when she was angry with him. The look on his face as he had climbed the stairs stayed with her while she finished preparing the tea. She poured a cup for him, adding just the right amount of cardamom the way he liked, and carried it upstairs.
She knocked softly on his door. “Damian.”
He opened it after a moment, still in his school clothes. His eyes avoided hers at first. She held out the cup of shay.
“Here. Drink while it is warm.”
He took the cup carefully, the warmth seeping into his hands. Without being told he moved to his desk and sat down, pulling out his books and starting on the assignments the school had sent ahead. The scratch of his pen filled the quiet room as he worked through the problems with focused determination.
Talia watched him for a long minute, her expression softening. She stepped closer and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, her hand resting briefly on the back of his head.
“You are doing well,” she praised quietly. “I only want the best for you, habibi. I want you to grow smart and capable, able to face whatever comes. That is why I am firm. Not because I enjoy seeing you upset.”
Damian kept his eyes on the page, cheeks warm and flustered. The kiss and her words eased something in his chest though. The tension in his shoulders loosened a little. He took a sip of the tea.
“I understand, Mother,” he said finally, voice low.
She lingered a moment longer, brushing a stray hair from his face before stepping back. “Finish your work. Dinner will be ready soon.”