Edited as of 4/16/18.
The ride back to the mountain could be described in one word; tense. At least, that's how it felt to Damian. For all he knew, his friends could be thinking of cupcakes and rainbows, not his impending explanation of recent that wasn't likely.
No, Damian was sure everyone was thinking about what he could possibly say that would explain everything. Why Talia al Ghul wanted to talk to him. Why his brother was an anti-hero. And he was sure Artemis would mention that only members of the League of Assassins could speak the dialect of Arabic he was speaking.
He had promised himself that he would tell them everything about him. He was allowed to. His father had granted him permission. It was only the fear of what would happen if they found out about his past that kept him silent. Now, now he really had no choice.
A small part of him whispered that maybe it wasn't so bad, being forced to tell. If he hadn't been put in this position, he probably would have kept silent forever, to spare the chance of losing anyone. This way was better.
Maybe he would leave out some of the bloodier parts of his past though. Not to hide it, but to keep from losing any of them. He didn't want to see their faces when they found out he had been, still was, a killer.
Suddenly Damian was jerked out of his thoughts as the Bio-ship came to a halt. He shook his head slightly to clear the cobwebs infesting his brain and peered out the window. They were back at the mountain.
Damian sat up straighter as the seat unbuckled itself and stretched his arms out, then cracked his neck, slowly. By the time he'd finished making himself feel less stiff, everyone was gone. He took a deep breath of relief. He would have to get off in a minute, but the time he had left, before anyone came looking, he could use to gather his thoughts. He needed to if he was going to make any sense explaining… everything to them.
After taking a few deep breaths, he was ready, or as ready as he would ever be. Damian went towards the back of the Bio-ship and down the ramp. No one was in the hanger. He paused for a moment, hand on the wall of the ship. Where were they? Wouldn't they want him to explain everything right away? What if he ran off or something?
But, Damian realized, they were all sentimental fools, though he thought of them as such very fondly. They were so trusting. And they trusted him. Even with everything questionable that had happened; Talia being so familiar with him. Letting Todd leave without stopping him. His mysterious box. Even with all of that, they still trusted him.
And honestly, Damian could use a break. He wanted to get changed into civvies. It was late. And maybe some sleep would do him good as well. He could do that, take a moment to relax. They would understand, especially since they seemed to be doing the same thing.
He walked down the hallway with the silent steps of one who'd trained for years and into his room. It was just how it'd always been. Plain. Empty. Impersonal. The perfect room to make sure nothing about him would be given away. Today, he hated it. How he wished to just go home to his own room, filled with his sketch pads and pencils. Somewhere familiar.
Normally he wasn't bothered by his room here. It wasn't like he slept in it often, or even entered it. Today he just wanted to be somewhere he felt safe. After what had transferred over the last few hours, it would be welcome. That wasn't destined to be though.
As soon as he locked his door, he stripped his uniform off and left it crumpled on the floor. In his head, he could hear Alfred's voice chiding him, but he ignored it and went straight into his bathroom and turned on cold water before jumping in the shower. His shower was short, and he had to be careful of his stitches. When he was done, he stepped out and threw on a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt with a large Superman symbol covering it.
It was only once he was in the civvies that he finally allowed himself to relax, and peered at his reflection in the mirror. He wasn't very different from this morning. Maybe a little bit paler, but he could attribute that to blood loss and stress. His eyes were the same tired green eyes. Nothing about him had fundamentally changed, yet he felt different. It was contradictory.
Damian turned away from the mirror, and walked back into his would go out to the living room and talk to them in a minute, he just wanted a moment to collect himself. Before he knew anything, the room faded into black and Damian felt himself sinking into a deep sleep, brought on by exhaustion.
When Damian blinked his eyes open, he was confused. Had it been a dream? As the last vestiges of sleep faded away, he became sure that no, it wasn't a dream. The events of yesterday had indeed happened. He rolled out of bed, and as soon as he was standing up, stretched languidly.
The alarm clock beside his bed read 7:23 A.M., which meant he'd slept well past his usual time to wake up. Though he would normally be angry at himself for breaking routine, he wasn't. Yesterday had been emotionally exhausting, and he was sure today would be too, but he did wish he had at least known he would fall asleep. But the Team would still be here, that was what he thought.
His guess was proven right when he entered the kitchen and saw the whole Team in various states of dishevelment eating breakfast at the table. All eyes turned towards him when he entered and widened. He wasn't wearing his sunglasses.
It was enough to make him give a short bark of laughter, which made everyone jump.
"If I am explaining what is going on… if I am going to trust you," he said, taking a seat at the table and letting his eyes roam over them. "Then it will be with everything."
They were all stunned into silence. Damian wasn't sure if it was because of his sudden trust in them, or if it was his open honesty. They may be his friends, but he wasn't known for being an open book, even to Wally.
"Then lay it on us," Artemis said suddenly. She leaned forward on the table, elbows propped up while her hands held up her chin. "What was all that about with Talia al Ghul, Robin?"
"Damian," he said. "My name is Damian. And… that would be part of a very long story."
"Then let's hear it, Damian," Wally said, testing his friend's name out slowly, especially for a speedster. "What's the story, dude?"
"We won't judge you," Zatanna said calmly. A fresh bandage covered her throat. "You're still our friend."
Damian didn't know how the magician had located where his reservation were already, but she had. And Damian believed her, that they were all his friends no matter what. Every part of his training told him not to, and the paranoid voice of his father was whispering that no one could be fully trusted. But Damian wasn't his father, and he no longer wanted to be.
He took a deep breath to calm his nerves.
"Batman is my father," he said, and watched his friends, judging their reactions. Most didn't see too surprised but did look quite confused.
"But, what about your accent? Batman doesn't have that," Wally pointed out.
"Well, no," Damian admitted. "I did not grow up with my father. My mother raised me until she was… no longer able to," Damian settled on.
"She didn't… die, did she?" M'gann asked innocently. "You felt, and I'm not reading your mind, I swear! But you felt really sad when you talked about your mom."
"No, she is not dead." Damian looked down at his clasped hands. "You met her last night."
Damian waited for the conclusion to come to everyone. The first one to voice their thoughts was Raquel.
"Talia al Ghul! That's your mom! Batman and Talia al Ghul are your parents!"
Damian nodded his head. "Yes."
"That's… no offense, dude, but that's just crazy! Batman and Talia al Ghul dated?" Wally asked incredulously.
Damian scoffed and looked up at his redheaded friend. "No. They met when my father was training to become Batman with the League of Assassins. She was… interested in him. They may have before I was born, but not as far as I know."
"You were raised in the League of Assassins," Artemis said, and Damian was both thankful and horror-stricken that she pointed it out. It did need to be addressed because he'd promised to show what was in the box they'd recovered, but he really, really didn't want to. She said it like she already knew, which she did. She'd figured it out the moment he dropped his faux accent.
"Yes," Damian said serenely, trying to maintain a calm. "I was."
"How old... how old were you when you got away," Artemis choked out. Damian was sure that she was the most horrified because she knew what they were capable of.
"Ten," Damian said. "I remember it. I told my father that I thought he would be taller."
Wally gave a short bark of laughter, and soon Damian joined him, and then everyone was drowning in hysterical giggles, despite the lack of humor at the situation.
Finally, they all managed to curb it.
"So, if you're telling us your name, are you going to tell us Batman's name?" Conner asked.
Damian shook his head. "I will give you my last name. That should be enough. Wayne."
A beat of silence.
"Oh my god. You're Bruce Wayne's son!" Raquel shrieked. "Bruce Wayne is Batman!"
Damian nodded his head.
"I met you," Artemis said. "You're that creepy freshie that took my picture and then ran off with the redheaded kid."
Damian gave a small smile and shrugged his shoulders. "I wanted to see if you would recognize me."
Artemis smiled lightly and shook her head while muttering under her breath good-naturedly.
"So, what about your fighting style? I mean, if you lived with the League until you were ten, then you would have learned their style of fighting. You're only fourteen, dude, and I doubt that's enough to change a whole style," Wally pointed out. "But you flip around like you were trained that way since you were born."
"I may or may not have taken Nightwing's style a bit. He is a talented acrobat," Damian admitted.
"Wait, if Nightwing is your brother, and Red Robin, and Red Hood, does that mean they're Bruce Wayne's other kids?" M'gann asked.
"I do not believe Red Hood could be. As far as I am aware, Bruce Wayne only has three sons," Kaldur said. Everyone's heads snapped to him. He hadn't spoken yet, so it surprised them all. But it settled Damian's fear that Kaldur might suddenly hate him.
"So, are we gettin' to see what's in that box we rescued, and why your… mom took it?" Zatanna asked. She said 'mom' like it made a weird taste in her mouth.
"Yes," Damian said. "But… it is a little different than you might expect."
Damian stood up and walked out to the hanger, where the box sat innocently in front of the Bio-ship as if it wasn't about to possibly destroy his friendships. He knelt down in front of it, took a deep breath, and opened the case.
Inside, just like yesterday night, was his sword. Surrounded by white paper, it almost looked innocent, but to Damian's eyes, it was stained red forever with the blood of those he'd killed. Yet, he was still grateful it didn't seem to be damaged.
"This is my sword," he said, keeping his eyes on the sharp edges. "My mother gave it to me the first time I met her when I was eight."
"Why, why did she take it yesterday?" Wally asked. For once he seemed completely serious.
"To get my attention," Damian admitted. "It is the only gift I received from her. She knows it is important to me, even if I do not use it anymore."
"Anymore?" Kaldur asked.
Damian took a deep breath. This was it. "I was… misguided as a child. I was raised by the League of Assassins. You know their tradition for old members, Artemis? Or perhaps the stories around four years ago spreading in Gotham?"
Artemis inhaled sharply, then looked at Damian. He raised his eyes and met her gaze. "After a member of the League is unable to perform their duties, they are killed by newer members. And in Gotham, when Robin first started, there were rumours about some person who got their head chopped off."
Damian averted his eyes from Artemis'. He could feel everyone's gaze on him. He didn't move or say anything. He simply closed the box again and waited.
Finally, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Damian looked up and met Wally's green eyes.
"Dude, you may have made a mistake, but it happens to everyone. And it's not like you knew it was wrong at the time. I, we aren't just going to stop being your friends."
"Yeah, man. We're a team," Raquel said and punched him in the shoulder.
"Robin, Damian. You regret it. You wish it hadn't happened. And besides, my uncle J'onn has killed in war before. It's not too different," M'gann said softly.
"You do not need to fear, Damian," Kaldur said, placing a hand on Damian's shoulder.
"No, you don't," Zatanna said, and kissed him gently on the cheek before moving away. Damian saw her cheeks were tinted red, and he was sure his were as well.
"So," Artemis began. "Anymore surprises we should look out for? People to meet?"
"Well," Damian said, looking at her with a smirk. "There are three, maybe four, but you won't meet them anytime soon."