The Disappearance of Damian Wayne

Disclaimer: I don't own Batman, Superman or any of the characters in either franchises.

Summary: The morning of his sixteenth birthday, Damian wakes up to waffles. It only gets better from there (until, of course, it gets worse).

Please forgive me for any grammatical errors, wrong use of expressions, and the like. English isn't my native language.

Thanks to damijon-supersons and ytamano at Tumblr for beta reading this fic! ^_^

-(X)-

NOW

A sword was held against his neck. A demon smiled.

"Happy birthday, Grandson."

-(X)-

LAST NIGHT

"Superboy, to your left!"

Said half-Kryptonian turned—blue eyes burning red with heat—but he was too late. A burst of orange laser struck him in the face and he was flung halfway across the street before crashing into the black asphalt. Smoke and debris flew upwards, before raining down on the smoking crater he formed.

Damian only spared him a glance (he was an alien. Invulnerable. Jon was fine) before running across the field.

Throwing his birdarangs at the robot, Damian feinted to the right. The robot tracked his movements, shooting lasers upon lasers at him, all of which he nimbly dodged. Once he was within striking distance, he whipped his legs under the robot's feet. It toppled forward, giving him a chance to slap some mini-explosives onto its chest. Then he back-flipped away, pushing a button on his gauntlet once he was at a safe distance.

BOOM!

Metallic robot innards rained down on Metropolis' streets.

"That was easy," Damian remarked, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he surveyed his surroundings. With the last of the robots destroyed, the evening calm was restored. Walking towards the crater his friend formed, he peered down at it with a hand on his hip. "How long are you going to sleep there, Superboy?"

Superboy—Jonathan Kent—glared up at him. "I'm not sleeping!"

"Then why are you still there?" He sneered, though a hint of worry tinged his frown. "The robot didn't hit you that hard."

"You try getting hit by a laser first," Jon grumbled as he easily denied gravity, floating up to face him. The younger boy looked around warily. "That's the last robot, right?"

Damian surreptitiously gave him a quick check (no burns, no wounds, no broken bones) before nodding. "It would seem so."

"Great!" And just like that, his friend was all smiles again. "Wanna call it a night, or is this not late enough for you Bats?"

Damian frowned again. The night—the true night—was only beginning. In Gotham, patrol only ended after 12 a.m., usually around 1 or 2 a.m., and sometimes even extending until the break of dawn. That wasn't even counting the nights where there were breakouts from Arkham or Blackgate, or stakeouts in the docks and warehouse district. Jon, however, has a strict 10 p.m. curfew enforced by his mother and a test the next morning; all things Damian never had to do before meeting his father.

"I'm not the one with a 10 o'clock curfew." He scoffed, crossing his arms. He glanced at the wreckage of the fight. "But fine. There doesn't seem to be anything else tonight anyway."

Jon grinned, throwing a punch in the air. "Yes! That means I can study tonight."

"You have to be the only person I know who's enthusiastic about studying." At least, that was what he observed from his family and friends, such as the Teen Titans. Most of them didn't seem happy about school, but they still went there anyway. In Damian's case, he was forced to attend the same school as Jon or else he couldn't be Robin. What was their excuse? Pursuit of knowledge? Why couldn't they learn all the stuff by themselves?

(That was what Damian did. Sure, there were tutors and teachers, but his mother always encouraged him to seek knowledge by himself whenever possible. "Some teachers are fools," she said once, "who thinks they know everything, or who only sees things in one way. Do not trust your teachers fully.")

(Later, Damian came to learnt that she meant: "Do not trust anyone fully.")

"It's not that I'm happy about it or anything." Jon corrected as Damian called for his motorcycle. The masked teen glanced up to see the thirteen years-old looking down at him with his hands in the pockets of his ripped jeans. "It's just—I have a big test tomorrow and I can't fail it."

I already know that, Damian thought, but kept it to himself. Jon didn't tell him about a test, but from the way he kept bothering him with science questions and impromptu study sessions outside of patrols was a big hint. Not to mention that Damian believed it was his responsibility to stay up to date with whatever was going on in his friend's life.

Still, he vaguely remembered his older brother, Dick, telling him that people didn't like it when other people invaded their privacy—something he found strange because that was what his family (both paternal and maternal sides) did all the time. In fact, Damian was certain that invasion of privacy was how the Bats showed affection, which would explain why his family like to hack, stalk, and spy each other.

But Damian had learnt that his family (both sides) weren't 'normal', not like how the Kents were (ironically), and while he still wasn't exactly certain what that meant, he knew enough to say. "I'm sure it's not that bad."

That was something 'normal' people would say to Jon's statement. Dick would have said that. Jason would probably have said the same but with coarser words. Tim, Stephanie, Duke, Cassandra, Barbara, Selina, and even Father would have said the same thing—the 'normal' thing—too. Alfred would have added some encouraging words, but Damian wasn't a saint.

(Before he would have dismissed his friend's words as something frivolous. "Who cares about tests?" He would have sneered. "You're on duty and you have a job to do.")

See? He learnt.

"It is!" Jon exclaimed, waving his arms dramatically. "Mom's gonna kill me if I fail!"

Damian was certain that someone like Superman wouldn't marry a woman who would kill a child for not living up to her expectation, let alone her own son. His father didn't, and his taste in women were questionable to begin with (he married a thief, of all people). Besides, Lois Lane-Kent didn't strike him as that kind of woman. He could be wrong, but it would be too tiring to keep up with that kind of charade for too long, so for once Damian decided to err on the side of the optimistic.

(See? He learnt.)

Damian scoffed. "I highly doubt that. Your mother will most likely ground you instead. She doesn't strike me as the harsh type."

Not like her.

"Still…" Superboy frowned—pouted, really— "That means I can't go on patrols with you anytime soon."

The teen rolled his eyes behind his mask. "Oh, a week without an inexperienced rookie tripping me up. Whatever shall I do?"

"Hey!" The half-Kryptonian lightly shoved his shoulder, mindful of his strength. It was still enough to send Damian stumbling, but he righted himself before he could fall. "It's been three years already! I'm not a newbie at this hero business anymore."

You're thirteen. Damian crossed his arms, grateful that frowning was such a norm for him that his friend didn't question the reason for his expression. I thought the same when I was younger than you and I died.

He would never say that though. Instead, Damian said. "I'm still older than you."

"I'm still taller." Jon replied with a huff, crossing his arms at the familiar argument.

Damian didn't grin, and he would never admit it to anyone, but this was his 'normal'. A banter between the sons of the world's greatest superheroes at night in the middle of an empty, ruined street. It could have easily been replaced with a father and a son perched on gargoyles and towers under the bright glare of a signal, or a rooftop race against his siblings beneath the grinning moon. It wasn't the 'normal' he heard of from his family and friends, but it was still a good kind of 'normal', not the bad kind he was raised into back with the League.

See? He learnt.

The distant rumble of his motorcycle signalled the end of their discussion. As his motorcycle turned and approached them, Jon landed next to him and smiled.

"You're still going to sleepover at my place tomorrow, right?" asked Jon, blue eyes hopeful.

Damian got onto his motorcycle and smirked. "If you're not grounded."

"I'm gonna ace that test. You'll see!"

"Sure I will." He teased, kicking the kickstand back.

Superboy shook his head, grinning as he pushed off the ground. "See you tomorrow!" He shouted as he flew off to the ink-black night sky.

Damian watched him leave for a moment longer, before he drove back to Gotham.

-(X)-

THIS MORNING

He smelled the waffles before he woke up.

A frown automatically crossed his lips. He had grown lenient and trusting in his time with the paternal side of his family. Back in the League, he could have been killed in his bed if he didn't wake up at another person's presence. But the manor was 'home' and the residents inside it were his family. He could 'trust' them.

(Six years had passed, and 'trust' and 'home' still seemed like a foreign concept at times. He was much better at accepting both now, though, and could at least recognise them we he saw them.)

(See? He learnt.)

Opening his green eyes, he was greeted by the sight of waffles on his bedside table and a note written in garish purple gel pen. Stephanie Brown. Only she would use that offending shade of purple and serve waffles for breakfast.

(If it was Stephanie, then the waffles should be safe to eat. Of course, there was always the possibility that someone else came in and left the waffles and purple note, in which case it might be poisoned. But Damian was 'home' and he 'trusted' its residents to protect him, so he was reasonably certain that the waffles were safe.)

He pushed himself upright, scrubbing away the sleep in his eyes. Glancing to the side, he saw sunlight poured in through the gaps in the curtains, drawing lines against the plush carpets. From outside the windows, he could hear the faint call of birdsong.

(The birdsong was muffled due to the glass of the windows he shut last night. The patterns the curtains formed together were still the same as before he went to sleep. There were no indents on the plush carpets. No one came in through the windows.)

The teen picked up the note that was placed next to the waffles. It simply said:

HAPPY 16TH BIRTHDAY, BABY BAT! — YOUR FAV SIS, STEPHANIE BROWN

"Tt," Damian clicked his tongue against his teeth. His favourite sister was Cassandra. Still, something warm settled in his stomach as he placed the note on the nightstand and started eating the waffles.

It was delicious.

(Waffles and garish purple notes—the shapes on 'home' and 'trust'.)

-(X)-

THIS MORNING, CONTINUED

"This is entirely unnecessary." Damian stated with his arms crossed, seated on the passenger seat next to Father. He scowled at his adopted siblings, all seated at the back of the bus Father rented for the day. He was certain that Dick was the mastermind for today's outing, but he couldn't rule out Stephanie either after that morning's waffles, nor Jason who loved to see the sheer ridiculousness of watching their father drive them to the amusement park, as well as a free pass into the place. So, not knowing who exactly was responsible for the trip, Damian settled on glaring at all of them.

(Maybe it was Cassandra. It was the quiet ones you have to watch out for. Or maybe Duke. His innocent facade may be hiding a plotting mind. Or perhaps it was Barbara. Her absence was suspect.)

"Relax, Dami," Dick said, grinning. "This will be fun."

"I've been to amusement parks before." He sniped back.

"Yeah, whenever the Joker is out." Jason replied, frowning briefly at the mention of the insane clown. "Have you ever been there outside of a case?"

Damian opened his mouth to retort, only to close it again, brows furrowed in thought. Tim took the chance to speak.

"He hasn't." Tim said, sipping coffee from his Starbucks tumbler. The dark bags under his eyes had become a little lighter after he chose to temporarily suspend any superheroics and pursue college, but it was still present enough to imply that his brother still didn't sleep enough.

For someone so smart, Timothy Drake-Wayne is an idiot, Damian absently thought.

Damian scowled at him. "I don't remember asking you."

"Whoa, you seriously never been to an amusement park?" Duke gaped. "We need to fix that asap."

Sitting next to him, Cassandra quietly intoned. "Agree."

The birthday boy was about to retort, but Father gently placed a hand on his head, brushing it slightly. It was a trick he had discovered when Damian was younger to calm him down from nightmares. Even now, years later, it still worked like a charm.

Damian grumbled under his breath, but settled down next to him.

"We're about to be there in five minutes." Father's strong voice rang out loud enough to reach the back of the bus. "So if you can all behave yourselves for five minutes we'll be there without any incidents."

There was a moment of silence.

Then Dick and Stephanie snickered. Jason full-on laughed. Tim tried to hide his laughter behind his hand and failed. Duke raise a sceptical eyebrow, far too used by the family's eccentricities to believe him. Cassandra simply smirked.

Damian tried to bite back a smile, but he didn't really mind if he failed.

-(X)-

THIS NOON

The rollercoasters were the first ride they lined up for.

"You've got to ride the rollercoasters!" exclaimed Dick as he dragged Damian to the ride. The rest of the family quietly followed. "This is the best ride in the park!"

(He supposed it was somewhat thrilling, but he had gotten more adrenaline rush from driving the Batmobile when Father wasn't looking, so he couldn't really see the appeal in it.)

The next ride were the spinning teacups.

"Forget the rollercoasters, this is the best ride in the park!" Stephanie proudly stated as she all but pushed a clearly reluctant Tim on board. Damian agreed to go on, if only to check out the ride that could make Tim's face green before it even started.

(It turns out that Stephanie liked to spin those things with a vengeance. Damian was glad he went on with Duke, Cassandra, and Dick. Father, Jason, and Tim was not so fortunate.)

After that, they went to the haunted house.

"I know it's nothing scary after everything we've seen." Duke said as he pushed open the door. "But I still think it'll be nice. At least we can laugh at the fake blood."

(The haunted house didn't scare Damian at all, to no one's surprise. The design, however, interested him as he could appreciate the amount of effort it took to make the whole thing. Jason had to pry him away from a 'ghost' after Damian spent over five minutes debating the pros and cons of acrylic paint vs spray paint with said 'ghost'.)

Then they entered the mirror house.

Cassandra didn't say anything as she led them to the maze. She simply smiled and pointed at the funny figures the mirrors reflected.

(They ended up having to pay more than $3000 for damages.)

Next was the petting zoo.

"Isn't there a petting zoo around here?" mumbled Tim as he pulled up the park's map on his phone. He somehow missed the warning looks Father and their siblings sent him as Damian's eyes gleamed with interest.

(Somehow they managed to stop Damian from adopting all the animals. Barely. Damian scowled at them all and started plotting a way to 'liberate' those animals tomorrow night.)

Finally, they went to a couple of shooting stands.

"No trip is complete without this." Jason stated, hefting the rifle. He grinned at Damian. "Which prize do you want, Baby Bat?"

(Indignant, Damian crossed his arms and scowled. He was sixteen now, and he did not need toys. He didn't grumble too much, however, when Jason won him a medium-sized bat doll.)

"So, what do you think, Damian?" Father asked as they filed into the rented bus. They were the last two to get in.

Damian blinked, frowning thoughtfully. Finally, he answered. "I suppose today was pleasant enough."

"That's good." Father smiled—a rare expression, but one that had slowly became more common after he married Selina. He still wasn't exactly what one would call a happy man, but he was happy enough.

He fished something from his pocket; a small box wrapped in simple, elegant red paper and a gold bow. "This is for you. Happy birthday, son."

Damian took it carefully. He glanced up and saw Father watching him, as if to gauge his reaction—and took that as cue to open it. Gently, he unwrapped the gift, revealing an old, well-worn leather watch inside the box.

"My father wore this watch everyday." Father said. Damian's eyes snapped up to him, surprise crossing his face at the revelation. Father looked down at him kindly, still smiling. "Now I think you should have this."

"Oh." Damian didn't know what to say. Warmth bloomed in his chest, and something clenched his heart pleasantly. The teen ducked his gaze, looking at the watch instead. "Thank you, Father."

(It was well-known how close Father kept the mementos of his parents. To give him this…. It was the acknowledgement, recognition, and acceptance that his ten years-old self had longed for.)

Carefully, he took the watch out of its box and placed it on his wrist. It was a comfortable fit, the leather worn down comfortably from constant use. He struggled to contain his smile.

Then Father reached out and pat his head, before slowly—if awkwardly—drawing him into a hug. "I'm proud of you." Father said, voice warm and sincere in a way he rarely did as Batman. "I don't say it often enough, but I love you."

The smile broke free from his control, and Damian relaxed as he allowed himself to lean into the warm embrace.

(This was everything he ever wanted.)

-(X)-

ON THE DRIVE BACK

"Who was responsible for the idea of going to the amusement park?" Damian finally asked.

Father's eyes flicked to him as he smirked. "Selina's actually."

-(X)-

THIS EVENING

Damian saw her just as he was leaving for Metropolis, one foot into the car that was driven by Alfred.

"Off to the Kents?" asked Selina as she leisurely walked down the steps with a white kitten in her arms.

He nodded to his step-mother. "Yes."

(Even now he couldn't call her by that title. 'Mother' would always refer to Talia, but that hadn't stopped her from making a connection with him. Although Damian would most likely never refer to her as such, Selina was the closest thing he had to a 'Mom'.)

"I see." The former thief gently held out the kitten in her arms. "She's for you."

"Really?" Damian's eyes widened in surprise even as he carefully took the white kitten. The cat meowed quietly in his arms. "I thought Father said no more pets."

(Father made that rule after learning about Goliath. Apparently, after the dog, cat, turkey, and cow, a giant bat-dragon was the limit. Not that it stopped Damian from trying to adopt more pets.)

Selina gave him her patented Catwoman smile—the same smile she used whenever Father needed 'persuading'. "I managed to convince him otherwise."

"Thank you." He said sincerely, because within the family they were the ones who shared the most sentiments about pets, especially cats. "What's her name?"

"I'll leave that to you to decide."

Damian lifted the kitten to eye-level. In his hands, the cat wriggled, meowing quietly, and looked at him with intelligent blue eyes. She attempted to bat his nose, causing Damian to smirk.

"Aurora."

(Her white fur reminded him of the snow in the Artic. Her blue eyes; the clear skies above the Fortress of Solitude. Aurora—for the sight Jon showed him when the younger boy learnt of his passion to draw.)

"That's a pretty name." Selina commented, smiling. A part of him burst with warmth at her approval, something which was easier to gain than the impossible demands of Mother. She ruffled his hair (a move she learnt from Father, and one which he allowed her to use over time). "Happy birthday, Damian."

He hid his smile behind a smirk, but Damian suspected it didn't work. Selina grinned knowingly, and after bidding him farewell, left for bed. Damian entered the car with Aurora nuzzling sleepily at his chest.

The warmth in his chest stayed with him all the way to Metropolis.

(Cats and bats—the shapes of 'home' and 'trust'.)

-(X)-

THIS NIGHT

"Happy birthday, Damian!"

Damian grunted, rocking back on his heels slightly from the force of the hug, hands instinctively going to his hidden knives. Around his body, Jon's arms were like a steel trap, causing his buried assassin instincts to flare up as it usually did whenever someone embraced him. It was only for a second, however, and with experience Damian easily stifled it. He wasn't attacked. A hug was a way to show affection and care, not stab him in the back. And this was Jon, his best friend. The only times he would hurt him if it was by accident, or he got mind-controlled or brainwashed.

(It has been five years, and it was getting easier to assure himself that he was safe.)

When Jon pulled back a minute later to smile at him, Damian could smirk back.

"So," Damian smirked. "Are you grounded?"

Jon laughed easily. "The results aren't out yet, but I think I did well. Thanks for helping me study, Damian."

"Hmph, I expect a minimum of A- since I helped out." Pride welled up inside him, not the arrogant kind he was accustomed to in the League, but one for his friend for being able to do it and himself for helping. Even now, after all those years, it still felt slightly strange to be proud of such a simple, insignificant achievement, but it felt good for Damian and he wasn't punished for it beyond an exasperated eye roll (and it was laced with fondness too!), so he allowed himself to indulge in it. "I am an excellent teacher after all."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." Jon rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling, so Damian was reasonably certain he wasn't actually complaining. He slung an arm around Damian's shoulders and guided him into the kitchen. "Come on, Mom and Dad bought cake."

"I already had one." Protested Damian, though he didn't fight against Jon's grip. "Alfred already made one this morning."

"Well now you get two!" smiled Jon, easily rebutting his argument.

Damian rolled his eyes, but didn't fight the smile tugging his lips.

-(X)-

A FEW HOURS AGO

Cake filled his belly, the remnants of its sweetness still lingering on his tongue. Aurora—his new kitten, gifted from Selina—was asleep on top of his belly, her warmth spreading over his stomach. He shifted slightly against the mattress the Kents had pulled out for this sleepover, trying to get comfortable without waking up the kitten.

On the bed next to him, Jon was fast asleep after their discussion on 'liberating' the animals in the amusement park. The younger superhero called his plan crazy, but then again, he called plenty of his plans crazy and still went through with them anyway. Damian was certain it was only a matter of time before he could persuade the younger boy to see things his way.

The curtains shielded the room from the moonlight, but some of it still slipped through the gaps. It was enough to let Damian see the time on the watch his father gave him earlier that day, still around his wrist. The memory warmed his heart, and that combined with everything else (the amusement park, the kitten, the cakes) was enough to make him feel warm all over.

He felt like he was running a fever. A fever called 'happiness'.

Smiling, Damian closed his eyes and slipped into the familiar embrace of the shadows.

(Tomorrow, life would go on. He would go to school, patrol with his father and friend, beat criminals, and save the innocents. Tomorrow, his life would continue on as 'normal'—the 'normal' he had come to embrace.)

(Tomorrow—Damian couldn't wait for what the future might bring.)

-(X)-

NOW

A sword was held against his neck. A demon smiled.

"Happy birthday, Grandson."

Immediately, he woke up from his pleasant dreams, brain running a mile a minute. What was Ra's al Ghul doing here, in the home of Superman? Why was he here? Damian didn't ask any of these, however, instead reaching out for his communicator under his pillow and—

"If you care for the Kent boy's life, you will not do that."

Green eyes wide, Damian froze and focused at his grandfather. Cloaked in shadows and the cold moonlight, he stood over him with a victorious smile. One hand held the sword still pointed at his neck, pinning him in place, while the other…was holding a transparent canister filled with green gas.

Dread welled up in his throat like bile. No…

Ra's al Ghul smiled pleasantly and confirmed. "Kryptonite gas. We wouldn't want anyone to disturb us, hmm?"

He could practically taste the bile at the back of his tongue, but he refused to show any weakness. "What do you want, Ra's?"

"First, let me see that communicator under your pillow." The Demon's Head answered, still smiling as he held the sword against his neck.

Scowling at him, Damian tossed his communicator up. His grandfather easily caught it, before tossing it to the side and crushing it with a foot. Damian stared at it—mind running through various emergency protocols—before snapping his attention back to his grandfather when Ra's pulled the sword away and stepped back.

Only to sit by Jon's bed.

Warily, Damian pushed himself up. Aurora meowed, annoyed at the sudden movement and slid down his stomach. He caught her in his arms as he stood up, the white kitten blinking confusedly at him before purring and rubbing her face against his chest. If the situation wasn't so serious, he would be charmed. As it was, Damian didn't register his pet's actions, only able to focus on his grandfather.

"Metahumans and aliens always think themselves so powerful. Invulnerable." Ra's al Ghul looked at his friend with the detached amusement of a scientist seeing a guinea pig before some kind of sadistic experiment. He slowly, calculatingly, turned his attention to Damian, smile still one of assured confidence and victory. "But we know better, don't we, Damian?"

He shook the canister in his hand, before setting it upright next to Jon's head. The green glow casted over his friend's face made Damian sick.

(Could he attack? No. Not without harming Jon. Call for help? No, Ra's would notice. That left…)

"Why are you here, Ra's?" He asked, hoping against hope that if he stalled long enough, perhaps Clark would wake up and hear them.

"To congratulate you for your sixteenth birthday, of course," answered the Demon's Head, voice misleadingly soft and sincere. "And to welcome you back into the League of Assassins."

Damian sneered. "I will never return to the League."

Ra's laughed. "You do not have a choice."

Gaze still locked on his, his grandfather made sure he watched as he took something out of his pocket. Like a showman, he allowed Damian to see the remote in his hand. Then with a smirk, Ra's pressed a button.

Jon shifted and moved, mouth open as if gasping for air, but not a sound came out.

Damian was too controlled to shout out his name and reveal his panic, but Ra's caught it anyway. Eyes gleaming with victory, the Demon's Head pressed the button again. Almost immediately, Jon settled down, drawing quiet, deep breaths, still fast asleep.

"What. Was. That?" He hissed, scowling at him as worry and panic warred inside him.

"Recall your latest misadventure." Ra's al Ghul replied, smirking. "A fight against robots on the streets of Metropolis. The half-Kryptonian boy hit by a laser but coming out of it unscathed. Does any of this ring a bell to you?"

It does. The dread welling up inside him were now heavy stones at the bottom of his stomach. Through gritted teeth, he questioned. "What. Happened?"

"Now, now." Ra's tutted. "You are your father's son, are you not? Deduce then, what may have happened."

Frowning, Damian thought back on the fight. The robots had been fairly standard, so he didn't think that was the issue. Then what? Was it…Staring at his grandfather, the sinking feeling in his gut intensified.

"The laser." He stated flatly. "It wasn't actually a laser, was it?"

The Demon's Head smiled, a mocking facade of a proud grandfather. "Correct. It was a blast of nanobots that immediately tied to his cells at the moment of contact. Completely invisible to the naked eye and undetectable by any sensor known to man. A press of a button, and your dear friend here would die."

Damian bit back the growl at the back of his throat. He wanted to shout. He wanted to scream. He wanted to wipe that goddamn smile off of his grandfather's face.

(A lesson he once lived by but had forgotten in his time as Robin: One's needs and desires were inconsequential compared to the League's.)

(It all came rushing back.)

Focus on Jon's life, Damian thought, pushing back the slowly encroaching despair as he realised how the night would end.

"You want me to return to the League."

(Father, Richard, Alfred…)

"I am glad you finally understood." Ra's expression was triumphant. Damian hated it.

(Jason, Timothy, Duke…)

"After everything I've done? I have turned my back on the League for Father's side. I have revealed League secrets and hideouts. Still you will take me back?"

(Cassandra, Stephanie, Barbara…)

"Damian," the Demon's Head sighed, "you are, and will always be, my grandson. My greatest creation. I can turn a blind eye to your adolescent follies this one time."

(Selina, Clark, Lois…)

"How kind of you." Damian replied bitterly.

(Jon, Maya, Colin…)

Ra's al Ghul chuckled as he rose and approached him. It was a kind sound. Gently, the Demon's Head brushed his hand over his head. When he spoke, his voice was fond.

(His family…his friends…his home…)

"You still and will always exist at my sufferance."

(Damian couldn't even say goodbye.)

-(X)-

MORNING

When Jon woke up, the bed next to his was empty.

-(FUN FACTS)-

"Jon, however, has a strict 10 p.m. curfew enforced by his mother…" — from Super Sons issue 6.

"In Damian's case, he was forced to attend the same school as Jon or else he couldn't be Robin…" — from Super Sons issue 10.

"But Damian had learnt that his family (both sides) weren't 'normal', not like the Kents were (ironically)…" — I found it really funny and ironic that the fully human Batfamily lead weirder lives than the aliens/half-alien/clone in the Superfamily. Sometimes I think, in the pursuit of making themselves myths, legends, and symbols, the Batfamily fully commit themselves to doing the impossible and transcending the human limits, while to keep themselves in check, the Superfamily focused on grounding themselves in human lives. It's an interesting dichotomy.

"You're thirteen. Damian crossed his arms, grateful that frowning was such a norm for him that his friend didn't question the reason for his expression. I thought the same when I was younger than you and I died." — Honestly, Canon timeline is a mess. So to make things easier on myself, I'm using my own timeline, and in it Damian was 11 when Batman Incorporated issue 8 happened.

"I'm proud of you." Father said, voice warm and sincere in a way he rarely did as Batman. "I don't say it often enough, but I love you." — based on Injustice 2 issue 8. I don't like what they did to Damian there (why do DC like making him the villain!?), but it's ok-ish enough. The actual quote is "You did well. I'm proud of you, and I know I don't say that enough." (from Bruce to Damian in a flashback).

"Damian," the Demon's Head sighed, "you are, and will always be, my grandson. My greatest creation…" — Based on what Ra's said to Damian in The Shadow/Batman issue 4. Everyone who is a fan of Damian and Bruce-Damian family feels go read it! It's really good. Anyway, here's what Ra's really say in that issue: "You were, and have been, one of my greatest creations, Damian."

"You still and will always exist at my sufferance." — Another line taken from The Shadow/Batman.

"…It was a blast of nanobots that immediately tied to his cells at the moment of contact. Completely invincible to the naked eye and undetectable by any sensor known to man. A press of a button, and your dear friend here would die." — The basic premise of this story is based on the Teen Titans' (cartoon) Apprentice arc, where Robin was forced to become Slade's apprentice or else he would kill the rest of the Teen Titans. I don't really remember what happened (I'm gonna have to rewatch it someday), but I think that Starfire, Cyborg, Raven, and Beast Boy got (unknowingly) infected by exploding nanobots. I'm trying something similar here.

From damijon-supersons: Just to add to that last tidbit, the same tactic was used by the Court of Owls in Robin War to entice Dick Grayson to join them, otherwise they'd blow up the nanobots inside Damian that they placed on him. By Nightwing Rebirth, Dick has successfully removed the nanobots thanks to his contacts back when he was a spy, and he continued to infiltrate the Owls knowing Damian was safe.

"He (Damian) could practically taste the bile at the back of his tongue, but he refused to show any weakness. "What do you want, Ra's?"" – Thanks to ytamano for the suggestion of Damian calling Ra's by his name instead of his familial title to imply distance between them. Before, I would have gone ahead with letting Damian call him Grandfather, but she suggested that it's better to have him call him Ra's to show that Damian wants to distance himself with his maternal family. Of course, in his narration Damian will still call Talia and Ra's by their familial titles, because even if he doesn't want to admit it, he's still reluctantly connected to them, but in this fic when he speaks he won't call them as such. However, in the sequel fics he would have to revert to calling them 'Mother' and 'Grandfather' again because he would be back in the League of Assassins.

-(AUTHOR'S NOTE)-

The next fic in this series, The Mystic's Apprentice, will be uploaded sometime next week! So please look out for it ^_^