CM Aeris: I know NightsofTomorrow is finished and on a happy note, but it could've turned out much worse. This is if Damian had decided to listen to Tim and Dick and acted with more patience.
Broken Bonds
A year.
In a year, Damian had seen someone who he thought was dead for the past ten years. In a year, he had hoped that he could bring that person back into his life. In a year, he had followed him, shadowed him and protected him from afar. In a year, he tried getting close. He tried talking to him in the office, he tried inviting him home, but even then the other had treated him as a stranger. Acting as if he never met him, never knew him.
People told him that the man wasn't his little brother. They told him he was trying to compensate for his lost. They told him, it was just a coincidence that they looked and sounded so similar… but they were wrong, he knew they were wrong.
If that man weren't his brother, he wouldn't be able to tell that he was following him. He wouldn't be able to lose him with such ease when the weekend comes and stay missing until Monday morning. Any other person wouldn't have been able to do so.
Any other person would have been oblivious. Any other person would have called for help if they knew, but this young man hasn't. He wouldn't, why would he? He's his brother, isn't he? But if that were the case…why would he keep up this charade and still act like they were strangers?
A year was a long time, ten years even longer. Why was he doing this? Why has he covered himself with so many lies? Why was he hiding from his family?
Damian found himself seated and waiting in the dark apartment in Gotham Park Tower. Geared to the teeth in the image of a wraith, he was ready for patrol. Even if he wanted answers, the night never rests. He knows he would have to return to patrols after he get his answers. That is if he gets any at all.
Half past eleven was when he heard the sound of the door unlocking. Between the young CEO walking into the apartment and spotting Damian was no more than thirty seconds. His reaction was immediate before the minute was up. Had Damian expected less, the other would've been gone from the apartment and he would have to wait until his brother was willing to be without company. And knowing how the other thinks, waiting a year would have been the least of his problems.
The door was locked and the building's power was cut off. Without an electrical charge the door wouldn't open, his brother was trapped lest he risk leaving through the window.
"Who are you? What do you want?" He pinned himself against the wall, doing his best to move away from Damian.
Damian brushed his rugged cape aside to show him a glimpse of the bat insignia on his costume. "I want answers." He could see the caution in the other's eyes disappear for a moment before ice returned in its place.
"I don't know who you are or what you want! Get out!" He snapped.
"Stop lying. I know it's you." Damian growled. "Why are you hiding from us? Why are you pretending that you don't know who we are?"
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Terry screamed and reached for his pocket.
Damian caught his arm and gripped it tightly. "Stop lying. I've searched through your apartment. You've kept the shirt you died in… Did you even die at all?" He growled. "Was that all a ruse to get away from us? Are we that despicable?"
The look of fear and confusion disappeared from Terry's face, replaced in its place was anger. "What do you want? You have father's name, you have the manor, you have Dick, Tim and Alfred, you have the night, you have Gotham! What more do you want from me? Why does it matter what I do with my life? It's my life! I don't owe you anything!"
"You are my brother!" Damian snapped.
"I'm no longer a Wayne. Any relation we have now is just the half amount of genetic coding we've gotten from father." Terry droned out. "I don't have to answer your questions."
"So we're nothing to you." Damian growled.
"You're the people I have to tolerate living in dad's city. What you do matters little to me as long as you're doing your job." He crossed his arms.
Damian found his hand gripping furiously at his side. "So nothing matters?" He slammed his fist into the wall. "The time spent with father, the time we fought for him. None of it matters?"
"It has no relevance now." Terry said coldly. "Dad's not here anymore."
"Not rel—" Damian never got to finish as the power returned.
Terry was out the door within seconds. He would've chased after him. He would've demanded a better answer. He would've done anything to continue this conversation… had it been a year ago.
"…Forget it." He sighed as he stepped away from the wall and made his way to the window. "…Just… forget it."
o.o.o.o.o
A month.
For a month there was peace. Something Terry's been longing for the past year. No one to follow him, no one to bother him and free to do whatever he wanted to. He didn't have to worry for his life every day. It was great! Yet, something didn't feel right.
He found himself glancing at the windows, shadows and rooftops for a figure, a presence. Each time he found none. That annoyance he felt at having a stalker was gone, but for some reason, he wanted to feel it again. Why was he feeling this way?
"Terry? Are you okay?" Max's concerned voice drew him back from his thoughts.
"Hmm? Yes, I'm fine." He tried to ignore the feeling, but it was gnawing at him like a starved dog.
"You look lost in thought." She murmured quietly. "Is something bothering you?"
Terry rested his chin on his hand as he idly swiped through the stack of documents on his desk, but even so he found himself trailing back to his thoughts again. "Hey Max… say something really annoying happened to you daily for a long time and then it suddenly stopped… It's natural to feel happy about it right?"
She tilted her head curiously. "Yes, that would be normal… Did something happen?"
"Something like that…" He murmured. "… But what if… it stopped and you're not happy about it?"
"…You miss it?" Max sounded surprised.
"Miss it?" Terry frowned, as he tasted the words. "Hmm… that might be it."
"What happened?" She asked.
"Nothing you have to worry about Max." He murmured as he tapped his desk with a pen. "I'll deal with it on my own."
He promised himself not to think about it during work, yet that was all he could think of. Reports, statistics all became background noise in his mind as he thought of how to approach the hotheaded Wayne heir. Words were nothing to him and even if it had any affect, he wouldn't know what to say. The best way to get to him was through action.
Terry paused as he found a grin touch his lips. He had just the way. All he needed was to wait for nightfall and a few choice toys. Waiting for work to end was never this torturous for him and rushing home has never been this exciting. He found himself suiting up and searching through the city for the wraith of a man his brother was dressed as.
He paused on a rooftop as the thought went through his mind. Damian… his brother?
"… I guess there were more than blood we shared." He murmured to himself. The thought didn't linger long as he spotted the person he was looking for.
Swinging from roof to roof with a grappling hook, he spotted the wraith form of Ibn al Xuffasch, the new name Damian had taken since the name of Robin. Cloaked in invisibility, Terry tossed out three of his batarangs at him. He made no point to stay. He was sure Damian would be enraged and hunt down the source.
…
It never happened. Damian wasn't angry. There were none of the usual signs. No was rise in terribly beaten criminals in hospitals. No criminals fleeing into the arms of the law enforcement begging for protection. There was… nothing.
Why?
o.o.o.o.o
A week.
For a week he was assaulted by strange batarangs. For a week his com-link was hacked multiple times to the point he stop bothering with the earpiece. For a week he has been getting emails from Terry McGinnis constantly trying to talk to him about nonsensical things.
Damian never answered.
In that week, a figure confronted him. Donned in black with not an inch of skin shown, the red bat stood brightly on his chest. In his hand was the stylized batarang that assaulted him only a week earlier.
"If you know what's good for you, take off that costume and get the fuck out of my city!" He snarled. The figure said nothing as he chucked another batarang and fled.
The next email he gotten was a photo with a short message. Neither was pleasant as his destroyed laptop found out. The photo according to Terry was his new family in which, it included Jason of all people. Along with the laptop a number of hospitals were filled with broken criminals.
Tim found him fuming in Terry's room. "Damian…"
"Not a word. Not a single fucking word." He growled.
"If that's what his wish… as his brother… shouldn't you support him? As family…" Tim trailed off when he noticed Damian wasn't listening.
"He abandoned us for that bastard. He rather have his killer than his family." He growled.
"You don't know that." Tim said soothingly.
"I think he made it quite fucking clear. He wants all ties broken." Damian growled out.
"… But that's his choice isn't it? If he wants that… we really can't do anything about it."
"Yet, you suggest I support him." Damian crossed his arms.
"I know you're angry at him, but you still care. Even if Terry is really choosing Jason over us do you really want him to have no one to help him if he really needs it?"
"…" Damian was silent.
"Staying angry won't change a thing. You need to learn to let go." Tim said soothingly.
"Let… go?" Damian murmured.
By the end of the week a package to Terry McGinnis was sent to the dojo of his new family.
o.o.o.o.o
A day.
In a day anything could happen. Something happy, something great, something sad, something horrible or something unexpected. Terry wasn't sure what to make of it when he found the package waiting for him at the dojo. It was sent from the manor from Damian of all people. Was it a bomb? Was it poison?
He didn't open to check. He chucked it in the nearest river, but that wasn't the only strange thing. A call from Kevin told him that the hospitals were once again filled with broken criminals. It was a sign. Damian was furious. Something he did finally drew a reaction from him, but for what reason, he wasn't sure.
It was time he talked with his brother. He was no longer the same brat he met as a child. Damian's reactions no longer made any sense. He couldn't tell if he was angry or annoyed. I couldn't tell if he wanted him dead or he wanted to torture him. Nothing made sense to him.
Picking up the phone was the last thing he could think of to resolve all his questions. The phone rang. Once, twice, five times before someone finally picked up.
"What do you want?" Damian's voice came through in a dead tone. Gone was the energy he remembered. The anger, the jealousy and the stubbornness, they were all missing from his voice.
"You ignored me all week." Terry said cheekily trying to pull some lightness into the conversation. "It's rude to not reply."
"I don't reply to strangers." There were no changes in his voice.
Terry pressed his lips against his fist briefly. "We're hardly strangers, brother."
"… My brother is dead."
A pang of pain went through his chest. "That's not what you said over a month ago." Terry murmured.
"You wanted me to leave you alone and I have." He grounded out.
"I know. That's why I'm the one that decided to talk to you." Terry replied.
"I'm irrelevant." Damian was blunt. "According to you, there are no relations between us sans what little genetics from father. We don't share a name. We don't share a home. And whatever time we have shared in the past meant nothing. I've left you alone as per your request." His voice dropped deeper and deeper into a growl. "WHAT. MORE. DO. YOU. WANT?"
A solemn look crossed Terry's face as he held the phone gently against his ear. "…I know I've said all that… I know I've pushed you away… but has it… succeeded?" He sounded uncertain, regretful. "Have I realized too late the severity of what I've done?"
Damian was silent on the other end.
"Am I… no longer family?" Terry asked quietly.
"Think what you like." Damian replied evenly. "Come home when you're bored with playing with your murderer. Until then, I don't care what you do."
With a click, the line was dead.
Terry lowered the phone without a word.
o.o.o.o.o
An hour.
He was silent the hour after the call. Tim had suggested he let his anger go, but that wasn't as simple as it sounded. Nothing can compare to the hatred he held for his brother's murderer. Even with him trying to let go, he couldn't help the anger that bubbled up with each thought.
Damian closed his eyes and pressed his folded hands against his head. If he stopped thinking, the anger would go away. If he stopped thinking, it wouldn't hurt every time he gave a damn. Just stop thinking. Just stop thinking. Just stop…
o.o.o.o.o
A minute.
Just one more minute. Terry found himself staring at the phone trying to make sense of the conversation. Did it really come down to him choosing between his past and his current life? Was that what Damian meant? Did he want him to choose?
Just one more minute. He'll get this. Just one more.
o.o.o.o.o
A second.
Stop.
o.o.o.o.o
CM Aeris: This idea pissed me off to no ends. It still pisses me off. Don't know if I would continue it, but if I do, someone is going to get maimed or tortured. Reviews would be greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading.