So. A while ago I decided to give up fanfic writing for good. But then I got this idea and it wouldn't leave me alone. And Damian and the batboys give me all kinds of feelings, so why not.

This will be...I don't know what. Kind of a bunch of one shots, based on different versus of the Mumford & Sons song 'Broken Crown' that reminded me of our favorite assassin baby. Tis a good song, I recommend. I'll put the verse that inspired the writing at the beginning of every chapter. Hopefully that won't get me in trouble with the mods or anything.

Disclaimer: all characters belong to DC Comics, and the verses belong to Mumford & Sons. Creative content is mine.

"Touch my mouth and hold my tongue. I'll never be your chosen one."

Damian sat in front of the computer banks, watching the monitors while Titus lounged at his feet. He could see everyone – his father at the police station, Grayson at the docks, Drake above the national bank, and Todd about to take down a drug-dealer near Crime Alley.

He sighed angrily as he pulled his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them. He should be out there too. He should be with Batman at the police station. He should be with Nightwing at the docks. Hell, he'd even accept being stuck with Drake or Todd, so long as he was out there. Working for their cause.

But no. He was here. In the cave. At home.

There was no reason for it that he could think of. He was not injured, at least not in any sort of disabling way. He and his father had not argued recently. There were no ridiculously mad men running around Gotham. It wasn't even raining, which was a reason Grayson once used to leave him behind.

"Need anything, sir?" Alfred approached the consol, staring at all the screens. Titus raised his head slightly, giving the butler's shoe a lick of recognition.

"No thank you, Pennyworth. I'm fine," Damian answered, eyes unblinking as he watched Tim swing into a window at the bank.

Alfred glanced from the screens to the young boy who watched them before giving a small smile as he turned away, "They'll all be home soon. Try not to worry too much. You know how Richard feels about that."

Damian snorted as he leaned back in the chair. Stupid Grayson and his stupid feelings.

He watched the screens for hours, his family fighting the bad guys and saving the day, just as he himself should be. He dwelled on the thought throughout the evening. There was nothing, no reason for his father to keep him in for the night. So why…?

His thoughts were broken by Titus suddenly waking up and barking. Damian listened for a moment, picking up the distinct sounds of three different motors. He hopped out of the chair, slowly shuffling his way towards the parking area. He snapped his fingers, "Come on, boy."

Titus happily walked next to him. They reached the overhead railing just as the large black car pulled to a stop, the two flanking motorcycles slowing nearby. Motors were killed and helmets were tossed as Damian tried to decipher the mood of the three men in front of him.

Bruce got out of the Batmobile, pulling off the cowl to inspect one of the front tires, asking Tim a question as he did so. Tim answered and glanced at the car as he passed to meet up with Dick, who stood in front of his bike. The two talked for a moment before Dick shouted a remark to Bruce. The man looked up, giving a quick laugh, which the two boys joined into.

Titus gave a happy woof as Damian leaned on the railing, "Fruitful evening, I presume?"

All three men looked up at him. And that's when he saw it.

The reason.

The reason he was left behind. The reason he spent his night sitting in front of computers watching everyone else do his job.

In talking with Dick and Tim, Bruce was relaxed and calm. Normal, even. When Damian had called out to them, he was looking at his father, not his brothers. He didn't care what their reactions would be. Just Bruce's mattered. And the moment his father heard his voice, panic and guard flashed through his face and eyes.

It was gone as quick as it had appeared, replaced with a small smile and quick hand wave, but it was there long enough for Damian to see.

His father still didn't trust him. He didn't trust him not to mess up. He didn't trust him to watch his back. He didn't trust him to watch the backs of any of his other children, even the murderer.

"Fruitful as ever, kid," Dick said as he came up the stairs, rubbing Damian's head.

Tim followed right behind him, "Is fruitful a common 10-year-old kid word? I thought you were going to work on sounding your age…"

"Now, Timmy, play nice. He didn't say anything to you…" Dick said as the two wandered farther into the cave. Damian hadn't moved. He was still staring at his father who, after waving, had quickly gone back to his work on the car.

"Are you coming, father?" Damian asked icily. Titus whined at his feet, pushing his head into the boy's side.

"In a little. I just need to check the axel here."

"I can help you."

"No thank you, Damian."

Damian looked away, keeping his focus on Nightwing's bike. "Father, why did you request I stay in tonight?"

Bruce paused and looked up, "I…didn't want you to aggravate your shoulder injury. Just a precaution, nothing more."

"Oh," Damian responded. He heard Bruce's hesitation in his answer, in his lie, and the assurances he threw in at the end. Just a precaution, nothing more. Who were they for, Damian wondered, himself or his son?

He so badly wanted the status that Grayson and Drake – and even Todd, to an extent – had with the man they all held so highly. He wondered how long it took them to achieve it, that love, respect and trust.

He had his father's love, he knew that. There was even the possibility that his father respected him to a point. But he couldn't help it, he was a spoiled child. He wanted all three.

Damian watched Bruce for a few more minutes. He couldn't quite wrap his mind around it. He'd done everything his father had asked of him, everything that went against his upbringing. What the hell was he still doing wrong?

"…Father?"

"Yes?" Bruce looked up again.

Damian opened his mouth to say something but changed his mind. He closed his eyes and sighed before turning away, "You're a terrible liar."