This fic talks a little about religion and has Catholic references, since I think probably the Wayne family is Catholic or Protestant. Anyway the idea is not to offend anyone or impose a religion before other. Just a fanfic, about the baby bat finding a little of faith.
He does not now how to pray.
Never have done it before. He knows all about religions, all about the rites people perform in each one of it, he knows the different forms God takes in all diferent cultures.
He knows there is faith. People need to believe in something bigger, larger than life.
He has never need that before. He had never before need to ask help or comfort from a mighter being than himself. He knows people greater than life. He is the son of two humans that could be gods in their own right. He is the son of legends.
He never asked for a guide, because his destiny is already chosen. He takes what he wants.
But right now, as his brother screams bloody murder, as an unknow toxin created by Scarecrow runs through his blood, (and Grayson the fool screams Damian`s name over and over, begging to whoever is attacking him, to stop), he finds all his knowledge, skill, or heritage can`t help the former Batman.
And the grim look of his father and Drake while they look for an antidote, makes him think Grayson may lose this battle.
Suddenly he needs to get out of there, Grayson crying his name getting in his nerves (scares him shitless that him being killed is one of Grayson`s worst nightmares) and he runs out of the batcave without any destination on mind until until he stops, having tired himself in the process.
His blind run has drove him in front of the family Chapel.
He stands there for a second, and on impulse opens the closed door entering, desperation and the need to help driving him
He does not know how to pray, never need it before.
But this is Grayson.
And he can`t lose him.
So he tries.
"Hey, you, God...this is the first time I talk to you, but I need you to make useless Drake useful for once so he can help my father find the cure for wathever shit that is running throught Grayson`s veins. NOW"
Damian does not ask for things. He demands them. He waits for a second and glares at the image on the altar who only stares back.
He sighs. Maybe he needs to be a little more emotional for it to work.
"Look...I need you to help him, because the idiot is loved by lot of people. So if he dies, Alfred and my father will miss him. A lot. And Drake too I guess. And Gordon. And all the Justice League and the Young Justice and the Outlaws and the entire police force of the forsaken city he protects as nightwing So help him now." he tries to humble his tone, to make it convincing.
As he says the words he imagines himself without Grayson in his life and a sudden emotion explodes in his chest, as the notion that his former mentor (brotherfriendmentordad) may die.
It is not pleasant. He falls to his knees. Prays harder. (Prays sincerely)
"And I will miss him. You need to help him, because if he leaves who else is going to..lov." he pauses, can`t say the L word ".. Please help him, because I can`t. Please. I will do anything but please help him...help him..."
He continues to mumble the words, until he feels a hand on his shoulder and stops. He looks up and finds the gentle face of Pennyworth, who nods and kneels next to him and closes his eyes, still his hand on Damian`s shoulder.
Damian does not move (he is thankful the butler did not comment on the fact Damian`s cheeks are wet)and closes his eyes, still mumbling his petition.
For a few minutes the only noise their breath and Damian`s plead for help.
Suddenly Alfred stands up and takes his hand off his shoulder.
"How is he?" whispers the young Robin, a little bit too fearful.
"I just came to thank the Lord, Master Damian. Master Timothy and Master Bruce found the correct antidote just after your left and Master Dick is awake, coherent and resting. In fact he is asking for you..."
Alfred did not have chance to finish the sentence when Damian was already running back to the cave.
And there in the bed next to the chairs where his father and Drake were sitting was a drowsy but smiling Grayson.
Before anyone could say anything, Damian, victim of another explosion of emotion, jumped on the bed and hugged the older man tight, finding comfort on warm chest he has been pressed merciless hundred of times before. It takes a second, for Grayson, to hug back.
"Are you alright baby bird?" Grayson`s voice is hoarse for the screaming, but has the same affection and mother hen factor as always.
"Now I am" answers Damian and for once not caring how he call him or that his father and Drake were watching at him like Damian just pop another head.
Grayson was not leaving.
Next Sunday, like every Sunday , Dick and Alfred were getting ready to go to the service, the family priest gave in the small chapel. Ocasionally Tim came with them. But Bruce and Damian never bothered before.
So it was a big surprise to see Damian walking next to them. At least for Dick. Alfred smile a little, a story untold.
Inside the chapel while communion was given, Damian kneel and for the second time in his life prayed.
"Thank you"
Seems like a little bird found faith.
Is not all about asking. Also is about being grateful.