When Damian wakes up, Father is watching from the doorway, costume still on and cowl pulled back.
Damian quickly sits up and says, "Good morning, Father."
Father frowns, and Damian refuses to think it's because of him. Must have been a difficult night, is all-Damian wasn't allowed to listen in on the comms at Dick's persistence and Alfred's pointed stare.
Really. He's banned from patrol, and can't even stay alert of what is happening.
"Father? How was patrol?"
Father shakes his head minutely, and now Damian's frowning.
Something is obviously wrong here.
"Father?"
Father smiles, and Damian relaxes. It must be a stubborn case or something like that. He'll find out later.
(Thing is, Damian doesn't know how many "laters" he has left, how much time is left in this body's lifespan. He doesn't know if he will ever find out what's bothering his parent, and it tugs at his thoughts.)
"Shall we go get breakfast?" Damian asks instead, and Father nods, relief weighing his shoulders down.
"I should go get changed." Father says, and Damian smirks.
"You should. Pennyworth will have no mercy if you show up at the table dressed like that."
Father gives a small huff, looking him over once, and then again, lingering on Damian's eyes before walking away.
Damian's left standing in confusion and sudden apprehension festering in his heart.
It seem that he was right to be cautious.
Damian gazes at the people sitting at his table and subtly shuffles back.
Too many people too early in the morning, and Damian had no warning, no signs to prepare.
He doesn't know what the hell they're here for, but Damian wants them gone now.
"Hey, Damian!" Dick Grayson chirps, and Jason Todd inclines his head, and Tim Drake waves as a sign of hello.
Damian narrows his eyes. "Why are you here?"
Dick pouts, but Damian catches the glance he shares with his family, and that leaves Damian to wonder just what is going on.
"The old man invited us." Jason says instead, and Damian looks over at him with surprise.
"And you came?"
Jason grins, but it's more like a grimace, and it makes Damian flinch back, fingers tapping on his leg.
Tick, tock. Tap once, then twice. Rinse and repeat.
Rhythmatic
"Indeed he did, Master Damian." Alfred breaks the silence that settled over the group as if it was merely wet paper, and not for the first time, Damian is glad for his boldness. "Now, why don't you sit down."
Damian takes his usual place, and stares at his siblings, puzzlement clear.
"But why did Father call you here?" He asks, and Tim hides a flinch.
"Damian…. He-" Dick starts, and Jason cuts him off.
"You're hiding something. Something big, and it's not good. We want to know what it is."
Damian sits and stares, hands clenching on the table.
They-
Stars burst in his blood, and Damian doesn't stop the way his eyes glow.
"What?"
The wood cracks underneath his fingers.
Father sweeps into the room, and Damian's heart stops.
"We want to know what you're hiding." Jason repeats, and Damian-
Damian flies to his feet, chair clattering behind him, and the molecules of the air around him vibrate.
"What I keep to myself is my own business. I would tell you if I felt the need to." He says, and the countdown in his head goes one, two, and Damian ignores it the best he can.
"Damian." Father says, voice stern, and from the way Tim shrinks slightly, that was supposed to be intimidating or compel him to talk.
Damian locks his jaw instead.
He's older than everything, older than the universe itself. If Father thinks that he can make Damian tell, he has a completely different person in mind.
Damian is stubborn. Damian is patient. And Damian knows that he could simply walk away now and never return.
He pays no mind to how that idea makes something ache.
"No." Damian says instead, and stands his ground against his family.
They don't need to know what he is.
And they certainly don't need to know about the tick tocks in his mind.
"I refuse."
Damian leaves the room with an empty stomach and thoughts full of storms.
"That didn't go well."
"Well, what did you expect? Damian's a defensive kid. He doesn't tell you anything unless he wants to."
"Still-"
"No. We don't bombard him like that."
"...What if we-"
"Let Dick talk. He knows Damian best."
"Thanks, Bruce." A pause. "So here's what we're going to do."
Damian watches Father fight on the screen, adding in advice and warnings through the microphone on his headphones, and he notices the way Tim comes up from behind him.
"What do you want, Drake?" He asks, and winces internally as Father gets a crowbar to the arm. "Father, there's five more headed your way, and they have assassin training."
"Understood." Father grunts back, and punches a thug into the wall and whirls around to catch a bat with his gauntlet.
Tim puts a hand on the back of the chair, and Damian is reminded of when he took Tim's staff.
Damian tucks a foot under him and leans back, eyes narrowed as he sees Father grapple his way to the rooftop above, drug dealers tied up and unconscious.
He presses a button and sends the coordinates to the police.
Tim's still here.
Damian give a -tt- and turns around, leg swinging an inch from the ground as he does so.
Sometimes, he truly hates his height.
"What do you want?" Damian hisses, hackles rising.
He had yet another nightmare last night, he can't go on patrol, and Tim is still here.
Dark matter growls in his throat, and Damian almost lets it come out.
Almost.
Tim shrugs. "I wanted to see the results of the analysis of the fear toxin."
Damian frowns, the images of what he saw rising. "They're over there." He says instead, pointing at the file.
Tim should have known where they are.
Damian breathes through his nose and directs his attention to the screen again. "Father-"
Damian shoots to his uniform, frantically pulling it on because Father is surrounded by assassins and Damian isn't there-
They're aiming to kill.
Damian simply can't lose his father again.
Just as he climbs on his motorcycle, Tim grabs his arm, and everything is weird, a sharp ringing in his ears, but Tim points to the screen, and Damian looks over and-
Dick is there, at Father's back, and they're beating Talia's operatives, and relief is a crippling thing in Damian's chest.
He nearly falls to the ground with the weight of it crushing his shoulders.
"Da...Dami...Damian."
Tim's talking.
Damian blinks up at him, and his eyes are vacant and without thought, and Tim sighs.
"Damian."
Damian blinks again, eyelids heavier than a solid planet and the thought of Father and Dick coming home makes him straighten his back no matter how much it pains him and take steps towards the Batcomputer, each one feeling like it shatters the stone beneath him, and he stops only an inch before he touches the desktop.
Damian takes a breath and sits back down again, and Tim hops up on beside him, reading the file in his hands, and everything is silent for a moment.
"Damn, Crane got creative this time. We're lucky that the antidote even worked." Tim mutters, and it breaks the quiet.
"What do you mean?" Damian asks, raising his eyes to look at his older brother.
Tim turned the folder around. "Look-that component is the main thing in this." And suddenly Damian knew what Tim meant.
This fear toxin is more like a suicide gas.
Damian grips the armrests.
Tim falls still, letting Damian mull over his thoughts.
"So...if an antidote wasn't delivered in time, the victim would die?" Damian finally ventures, and although he's certain, he wants confirmation.
"Yep. They'd kill themselves." Tim says grimly.
Damian leans back.
The second before Father had given him the antidote, he had been close to ending his life, no matter what the countdown said it was his time or not because everything was just too much.
"...It seems that I was saved just in time." Damian finally says.
Tim's head snaps up.
"Guys, Damian was close to killing himself."
"What?"
"Dick, calm down. What-"
"The new formula for the fear toxin. Look at it."
"...Oh shit."
"Yeah. So I'm thinking that-"
"He's...still thinking of doing it, isn't he?"
A shuffle.
"I think so."
"It's my turn anyways, so I'll make sure."
"...Thanks, Jason."
A sigh.
"Hey, I don't want the kid dead anymore than you do."
Damian blinks.
"Jason, what are you-"
"I'm saying that we're going on patrol together." Jason says, helmet tucked under his arm.
"But I am banned from patrol." Damian says.
Jason snorts, and Damian's heart aches at the familiarity. "Yeah, like that's ever stopped you before."
Damian's fingers itch to pull the hood of his jacket up in defense. "Yes, but-"
That was before this week.
Jason ruffles his hair, and Damian immediately claws at him, teeth bared.
"Alright, no touch." Jason jokes, and slips on his namesake. "Get dressed and let's go."
Damian tilts his head a bit before nodding and heading off.
Jason watches him the entire time, and Damian times his stride to the tick tocks in his head.
He misses the way Jason counts them and frowns.
Damian throws himself into battle the moment he's able, and Jason watches with his arms crossed.
It reminds Damian of those times when he was training and Talia was watching in front of him with cold eyes and expectations, but Jason was right behind him with encouraging words and a sharp grin and eyes the exact opposite of Talia's.
A bullet slams into the stone next to his head, and Damian grabs the gun it came from, throws it to the ground and twists the man's arm until he screams.
Damian drops him and gives a nerve pinch that makes him go unconscious.
Damian tells the police where to find them, and climbs his way to the roof, taking the hard way up, needing to feel that burn in his muscles.
Jason follows, and for the first time in months Damian is glad that he does.
But Damian fights and he gets hurt, gets injuries that could have been avoided, and it's around three when Jason says, "That's enough."
Damian's arms are aflame, and his legs are sore, but his heart is lighter and his mind is clearer as he falls asleep
He doesn't see the way Jason was watching him.
"Replacement right."
"Fuck."
"What confirmed it?"
"Always to the point, huh, Bruce?"
"Jason, just tell us!"
"Fine. He was reckless with his life out on the field."
"Jason, you let him out?"
"Calm down, Dickiebird."
"Dick, that was the best way to see if that was true."
A low growl.
"There's something else."
Silence.
"...I'm going next."
"Little D!"
Damian's tugged into a hug-it's the kind Dick gives, and Damian relaxes.
"Grayson." He says, and pulls away, arms crossed with a scowl firmly in place.
"I thought that we could watch a movie and get some food." Dick says, and when he grins, his teeth catches the sunlight.
Damian gapes on the inside. How is it that the sun favors Dick more than him?
Well. He thinks as he's dragged outside and stuffed into the car with complaints and snarls from him at the manhandling. This is Dick Grayson.
Dick ends up taking him to see Captain Underpants and he laughs the whole time, and even Damian has a small smile and gives a huff of amusement at parts he finds particularly hilarious
"Did you like it?" Dick asks as they leave, and he's still eating the candy and sipping at his soda, and Damian feels the monster lingering just underneath his mind, the one that devours every single positive thought and spits it out negative-
He feels it falter for just a moment.
"Yes." He says, and he feels triumphant that he managed that because lately-
Lately, it's been so much harder to just say the truth.
Dick gives him a smile, and takes him to eat pizza, and Damian's day isn't overshadowed by that countdown, and he falls asleep with the monster slain for the night and the cosmos churning above his head.
"So?"
"He's...I'm pretty sure that he's depressed. There's more, but that's the best I could get with what little time I had."
"Fucking fuck!"
"Jason!" Sharp and unrelenting. "Damian could hear us!"
"Sorry for fucking caring!"
"I do care!"
"Shut up!"
The jumble of papers.
"Look, Damian has some issues, but right now we have another problem."
"Grayson? Todd? Drake? Father?"
"Hey-"
"What are you all doing?"
Eyes span over the group.
"We're just talking, don't worry about it."
A frown.
"We are!" A nudge.
"Damian, we were discussing a case."
"Why do you need all four of you?"
"Because it is a case with a villain we all have experience with. And you need to go take Titus out."
"Fine, Father."
Door swinging closed.
"...Bruce, you're a lifesaver."
Damian stands in uniform, more at home than he's felt in a week, and Father is at his back as more assassins come.
"Father-"
"Robin, I know." It's soft, and Damian whirls around, foot hitting the side of his opponent.
He goes flying.
Father's surrounded by the unconscious bodies of assassins, and the line of his lips is gentle, and Damian sprints into the next battle, and Father follows.
Damian is at peace, and he thinks that everything will be fine, just so long as this continues.
Talia is going to attack.
Damian sucks in a breath as he watches the army Talia amassed march their way to Gotham.
All of this just to...
"Tick, tock." Damian murmurs under his breath, and his heart pounds and a supernova shudders in his chest.
A hand settles itself on his head.
Damian looks up and Father is looking down at him, and Dick is smiling, and Jason is right behind them with a gun, and Tim is analyzing the screen for weaknesses, and Alfred is coming down the stairs with a tray tucked under his arm.
"It'll all be okay. We'll beat them back, and no one will get hurt." Dick says, and Jason nods.
"Least of all you."
Damian tries to believe it but-
But this is Gotham.
And Damian can't let his family fight alone, and so he goes out, and the tick tock grows bigger.
Everything goes to shit.
Nothing is like what he wants, nothing is like what he wishes for, and Damian-
Damian blinks tiredly as yet another opponent charges forward, and deflects their attack with a flick of his fingers.
Nobody's around, and he's so fucking war-weary that he can't be bothered to care if any cameras caught it.
The tick tock in his head is the loudest it's ever been, a crashing bang against his ears, and Damian knows that today he will die.
He...
He's not ready to leave Earth, leave this life behind. He's not ready to go back to the silence, to his isolation among the stars, to a life without Alfred and Father in the same house, to a life without any of his family near.
He's not ready, and Damian doesn't think he ever will be.
But-
But that very same family is fighting for him, and he has to fight too, has to fight because he might lose any of them today, and if he's going to die, he will do it saving those he loves.
So here he is, exhausted beyond relief, and just wanting to sleep, not even lifting his sword, when he sees-
"Grayson!"
The name tears itself out of his throat and he runs towards his brother, towards his clone, and the countdown grows impossibly louder.
Damian's arms are shaking and he can barely stand, but he's not going to sit idly by and let someone who shares his DNA but not his memories, not his powers, hurt his family.
"Look at me!" He shouts, and then he has the Heretic baring down on him, and he has arrows in his skin and stars bursting in his chest, and he bares his teeth without a care for his life as he pounces.
Talia is near by, watching and waiting, and Damian grins, bloody and wild, and with radiation infecting his breath as he says, "Are you too cowardly to kill me yourself?"
Dick is unconscious on the ground behind him, and there's a echoing tick.
Suddenly he's backed into a corner with no idea how he got there, and though she's long lost the title, Damian pleads with her. Just once.
It's the first time he's ever done it.
"Call him off… Mother…"
There's no reply, no actions to show she even heard him.
Damian tries to leap over the Heretic's head, tries to get more ground because he's too tired, too hyped up on adrenaline to safely use his powers so he can't just incinerate his clone, but there's a sword and-
Tock.
He has a sword in his chest.
Damian's mouth falls open as pure agony wrecks his mind, and for a single moment, everything blanks out.
He's vaguely aware of falling to the ground, and there's no more tick tocks in his head.
"Goodbye." He manages to Dick, to everyone, and his cape falls over his face just as he closes his eyes and his heart stops.