A/N: My computer is about to die! Trying to get this out. It was weirdly hard to write, but then I also had another chapter I was impatient to work on and ended up doing two at once, so, that might have had something to do with it.
My Robin Reversal AU:
Damian - 5
Chapter Eleven: American Prince Damian
"Thank you for watching Gotham Celebrity Insider, tonight we join our very own Amy Stone as she greets some of Gotham's elite as they join together for the Saint Mercy Charity Ball. Take it away, Amy."
"Thank you, Jill. As you can see behind me, the night has been underway as the guest have been pouring in, but some of the city's most esteemed guests have yet to arrive. As I speak now, here comes Mr. and Mrs. Masterson, followed closely in by the up and coming Drakes. Mr. Masterson, can we get any word on the new Mesume being built near Harbor Square?"
"My team of archeologists and I are very excited to confirm rumors about the undergoing of such a project, though I'm afraid that I am not at liberty to got into more detail just yet."
"Alright, thank you for that! So as the Masterson's lead the charge into the Charity Ball, why don't we go through the list of other expected arrivals. Such appearances are hoped to be from the Cliftons, Mr. Maxi Zuse, Luthor, Goldstein, Madame Lueyai Colt, Actress Searia Kittman, and more. To remind, the charity is for the benefit of the road construction down by the old Parkway, with high hopes of helping small business as well as convenience in travel. We now have another car coming forward and, I don't believe it, Mr. Bruce Wayne making a debut after his 'skiing accident' last spring. Mr. Wayne! Mr. Wayne! Can you please give our viewers an idea of what you've been up to, to pass the time while you were healing up from your terrible skiing trip?"
"Actually Amy, I'm glad you asked. I am going to make a more official announcement soon, but it would appear that in my less careful beginning as the notorious playboy I have become, I had apparently been less than careful. Through some very careful navigating through custody court, I can now proudly say that I am a father of a very gifted five-year-old son. I will, of course, be giving more information as things get farther settled."
"Wow, that's such a big change for you Bruce, will that lead to any dramatic differences to your lifestyle do you think?"
"Well, I don't expect fatherhood to be easy. I can say with solemn certainty that I will be attending fewer and fewer events."
"And what of your bachelor status? Think you'll be settling down soon? Maybe even with your son's mother?"
"Ah, no, probably not. I doubt I'll be getting around as much, but no, I don't see myself as the 'settling down' type. Not just yet, anyway."
"Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Wayne. Seeing Mr. Wayne through the doors, we now have the Cliftons coming up. Mrs. Clifton, that is an exquisite dress, can you tell us who you wear-" The television suddenly when silent as it was switched off.
"That was utterly moronic!" Damian growled as he almost threw the remote at the television.
"Perhaps, but necessary. Master Bruce needed to explain why he suddenly had a child in his home and it just so happened that his usual cover worked for his favor this time." Pennyworth was cleaning as he spoke to Damian. Dusting, really. Damian ground his teeth as he sat back into his seat. It had been over a month since he moved in with his father in Gotham, New Jersey. Since then, he had four things mostly understood. The first thing he learned, was that while Alfred Pennyworth was a butler and therefore a servant, this was not the extent of his service to his father. In fact, Damian had come to see Pennyworth as more of a vicar to his father's rule, a right-hand man, an adviser, and confidant. Living with his grandfather for so long, Damian wasn't use to seeing someone actually as competent in their position as Pennyworth. It also became quite clear that Damian was to respect and obey the man as if he were an extension of his father himself. So far, Pennyworth had yet to really do anything more than inform Damian of rules and manners pertaining to the new world he now lived in. Damian started to heave a sigh before remembering his mother's teaching on such behavior and tried to cover it with a cough.
The second thing Damian slowly came to understand, that while the Batman that Damian had been told his father was, was feared and respected in equal parts by both criminals and heroes, as well as local law enforcement and his mother's side of the family - that last one being truly impossible feat - Brucie Wayne was a moronic, fast spending, lech that knew nothing about anything. Despite the obvious sense, it made toward hiding any connection between the two identities, Damian hated it. The fake way his father had just smiled dumbly at that blonde floozy and her cameraman made Damian sick. It didn't help that he didn't know what his father was actually like because Bruce Wayne didn't seem to know how to act around Damian at all. The kid just could not get a read on the man.
One of the reasons for this was because of the third thing Damian came to understand. Bruce Wayne did not trust Damian Al Ghul. Or anyone named Al Ghul. Wisely so, too. Damian was never made clear on what had happened between his father and mother, he just knew that his father turned his back on the league around the time that it was being promised to him. He knew that while this decision insulted the Al Ghul clan, he also knew that they, in a small amount, respected him for it, though it made them enemies. That last part was key here. They were enemies and Damian was the perfect Trojan Horse. He wasn't really one, but his father was not the fool that was just on the television. Bruce Wayne was well aware that Talia Al Ghul would use her own child to bring the destruction of their own father if she wanted. But the truth as far as Damian saw it, she didn't want to. She just didn't want him, either.
Damian pulled his knees to his chest as he thought on the fourth thing. He was now, completely, and utterly, alone. Alone in a strange country with strange customs that breed strange people.
"Master Damian, might I suggest heading your way upstairs to your bed? You start school tomorrow and I will be waking you at six o'clock sharp." Damian rolled his eyes. It was only eight, he only needed three hours of sleep. He already figured to get a few extra hours by going to bed at ten and getting up at three before doing his morning work out routine. Since his father so far refused to train him or even allow the name 'Batman' be mentioned in the house, Damian had to rely on his own training regiments to keep in shape until his father finally trusted him. However long that took.
Damian walked down the hallway with a knot growing in his stomach. He was in enemy territory with no backup, no provisions, and no plan. He didn't have the slightest idea of what was waiting for him on the other side of the door that he now stood at. Next to him was a tall woman with a tight bun in the back of her head. She was slightly heavy set with gowls that told Damian that she knew how to smile once, but had forgotten somewhere along the way. Her name was Principal Cook, and she did not seem like a very forgiving woman.
Prin. Cook gave two firm knocks to the door in front of them and then stood at attention. Everything about the woman was ex-military and Damian didn't know if he was happy about that or not. He was used to silent, strict teachers, but at least he knew what they expected from him. Pennyworth already made it very clear that in this country, children were not trained to be deadly assassins, and violence of any kind would not be tolerated on school premises. So Damian honestly had no idea how to behave or what to do. So he kept his head on a swivel and his motions stiff. None of it was intentional.
The door before them opened and a thin man with a blue sweater greeted them. He was balding at the top and his glasses seemed a bit big for his face that Damian kept expecting them to fall right off his nose. He was clean shaven and had a goofy smile that Damian assumed was meant to relate to the more moronic of Damian it just made the man look like a moron.
"Well, hello Principal Cook, and you must be Damian Wayne. It's nice to meet you. I am Mr. Firks. I will be your homeroom teacher for this year. Would you like to come in and meet your new classmates?" Mr. Firks asked Damian. Damian couldn't bring himself to talk he was so stunned.
"Oh, it's okay to be a bit shy, Damian, but I'm certain your new best friend is waiting in there to meet you. Why don't we give it a try?"
"Mr. Firks," Prin. Cook interrupted, "After watching Mr. Wayne for the past five minutes, it is my assumption that he is coming to us from a military school, please do not talk down to him." So, yes, Damian was happy about Prin. Cook being ex-military. Having at least one adult in the building understand felt like a weight off of Damian's shoulders and he felt himself ease a bit into his usual stance.
"I see. Well then, I'm sorry Damian, I didn't mean to talk down to you," Mr. Firks made a show of apologizing to Damian that Damian had to glare at him a small bit. The guy was talking down to him while apologizing for talking down to him!
"I will be back at the end of the school day to see how well the student is adjusting to the class." With that, Prin. Cook turned on her heel and walked off, or more marched off.
"Come on in, Damian," Mr. Firks motioned for Damian to enter the room. He looked around and felt his eye twitch. There were toys everywhere, kids were running around after each other, there were some screaming, some beating on things, there was a girl in the corner crying her eyes out for no reason, and absolutely nothing that Damian was expecting. "Welcome to your new Kindergarten Class, Damian."
Almost to punctuate the ominous sentence, Damian watched as a boy his age took a whole box of random keys and up-ended it on the floor. Creating both a racket as well as a mess. "When Play Time is over everyone will sit over on that blue rug over there. When things have settled down a bit, then I will introduce you to everyone and we can get started on lessons."
Damian stood at attention by the front door, refusing any of Pennyworths attempts to persuade him into other activities. No cookies, outdoor activities, books, or even arts and crafts would work to distract the child. Damian was determined to speak with his father. He would NOT suffer this indignity quietly. He was trained by the world's elite. He had such disgraceful behavior beat from him years ago.
Damian was so absorbed in reciting in his mind what he intended to say to his father that he missed it when Bruce came up behind him.
"Alfred says you wanted to talk to me?" Bruce asked. He bit back a smile when the five-year-old jumped a little before spinning around on his heel. Damian stared at his father in complete awe, his gaze going back and forth from the man behind him and the front door that he had to go through to get into the manor.
"But, how did you?" Damian looked back in loss as he tried to figure out how his father had managed to get passed him. The only way that came to mind would have been through a window, but he couldn't imagine that his father would have climbed a window just to avoid the door Damian was guarding.
"What did you want to talk about Damian?" His father rephrased his question, making it clear he did not intend to answer the one Damian asked.
Taking a breath and then squaring his shoulders, Damian gave a stern look to his father and cleared his throat. "Father, I demand to be removed from that school and placed with one of more intelligent peers. If they must be older than so be it."
Bruce Wayne seemed to be taken aback by Damian's request and the force behind it. His brows shot up and he sent a glance back toward the butler, before turning back to Damian and clearing his own throat as he knelt down to talk to the boy at eye level.
"Damian, I understand your mother had you go through extensive learning processes to put you so very far ahead of all the other children your age, I did take that into consideration when I put you in that class. I also understand that you have not had much in the way of learning to interact with the children you've bypassed. Sometimes you have to take a step back in order to be a great leader," Bruce tried to explain.
"Ttch, I don't need to be in a brainwashing course along with those simpletons to command them! I watched one of those cretins put *glue* in their mouths! And then they threw a screaming fit when the 'teacher', as if the dimwit was deserving of the title, confiscated the glue to avoid the dolt from poisoning himself! Though I suppose that would have been *too much* of a service to humanity to allow the idiots to weed themselves out by their own foolishness!" Damian was panting by the end of his outburst.
"First, I said 'lead', Damian, not 'command'. There is a big difference between the two. Also, I need you to watch how children tend to act in this society so that you may mimic it passibly so no one starts asking too much about your mother's side of the family," Bruce tried again.
"I refuse to put up a facade of such moronics!" Damian was furious. He did not want the world to see him like they saw his father. He didn't want the world to see his father the way they did either, but he had no voice in that. "You just want me to be an imbecile that doesn't ask questions, but I was taught better! I want to know more about 'The Batman'! I want to continue my training! I refuse to be just another dullard!"
"As you can see, Master Bruce, Master Damian has even gone so far as to put his vast vocabulary in use to convince you. That was a total of nine words that all are synonymous with 'stupidity' and I have a foreboding feeling that we've only scratched the surface," Pennyworth felt the need to add his unwanted voice into the argument between father and son. Damian wanted to snap at him to shut up, but he knew that wouldn't go over well with his father for some reason.
"That's enough, Alfred, I need to talk with Damian myself, please." Damian almost couldn't believe his ears or eyes as his father shot a look over to the butler. Pennyworth raised a brow at the man before giving a small nod and dismissed himself back to the kitchen. "Damian, follow me."
Still a bit shocked, Damian followed his father through a door that he had been expressly forbidden from entering and hadn't had enough time to properly sneak through yet. There seemed to be no need as his father unlocked and opened the door for him, motioning for Damian to go through. Once in the room on the other side, Damian saw that it was just a simple study room, no doubt where his father did any of his office paperwork that followed him from the office or personal files such as taxes or whatever else. But the point was that it was his father's private space, and Damian had finally been invited inside.
"Take a seat." His father's voice broke Damian out of his awestruck wonderment and the five-year-old instantly sat himself down in one of the armed chairs in front of his father's desk. His father then sat on the other side. There was silence before Bruce pulled out a file from a locked cabinet and handed it over to Damian. The document was in Arabic and thus was even easier for Damian to read, with it having been his first language. The boy scanned it over and felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. It didn't help that his eyes began to prick with tears and cause him farther humiliation.
"You know what that is, Damian." It wasn't a question. Not even a rhetorical one. His father knew very well that Damian was familiar with what was in his hand.
"It's, it's a training regiment, . . . for me," Damian's voice was growing smaller.
"I didn't want to just throw you into something neither of us were ready for yet. You still need to acclimate to this new culture and I need to acclimate to this new responsibility. Not to mention I had to think of something from scratch for you that would best work what you do know and grow what you don't. It's not as easy as it sounds." Damian could have sworn he was listening to his father talk from a megaphone straight into his ear. Each word cut straight through his brain and hit something deep in him that took him a moment to realize what it was. A traitorous tear fell from his eye as he came to terms with what this meant. His father had every intention of training him, of letting Damian in, of granting Damian his last inheritance.
Damian had to swallow around the lump in his throat and looked his father in the eye. He owed this man an apology. However, as soon as Damian opened his mouth to do just that his father spoke.
"I'm giving you a choice Damian," Bruce folded his hands on the desk before him, "I will allow you to skip as many grades as you can, you can be Gotham's little genius. I'll make certain you get all the best tutors and are challenged by peers much older than you and help you grow in that way-," Damian held his breath, he knew there had to be an ultimatum. "Or, you can promise me you'll try harder to blend in with society so that no one suspects a thing when Batman suddenly has a highly trained, extremely smart, child fighting at his side."
Damian couldn't stop another treacherous tear from falling from his other eye this time. His father really had taken all his previous training into account when he chose Damian's class. He looked back down to the training regiment in his hands. It looked properly challenging without seeming too impossible. He looked back up to his father. "When?"
"Not until you're twelve, at the youngest," Bruce answered.
"Ten," Damian challenged.
"Non-negotiable," Bruce replied.
"Fine." And with that, Bruce gave his son a smile.
"I suppose if we're going ahead with your training," he stood as he spoke, walking over to the grandfather clock against the other wall, "I should probably show you where that training will be taking place." With that, his father turned the hand on the clock before opening the glass door and pulling down on the pendulum. There was a click and the whole clock suddenly swung to the side as if on a hinge. It probably was. Damian gasped as the doorway it revealed showed a set of stairs that went deep underneath the house. "Let me show you, Damian, the 'Batcave'."
A/N: So, As I said, My computer is about to die, so I had to rush the editing on this. Sorry if I missed something obvious! I honestly didn't really know where I was going to go with this. But I do know that a lot, and I mean a LOT of you wanted to see 'Culture shocked' Damian, and I kinda did too, but then I realized at Five, EVERY kid is having culture shock. Like, 'what do you mean I'm not allowed to throw spaghetti against the wall?', 'explain to me again, what is wrong with putting this particular object in my mouth? It this other one okay? No? Then how about that one?'. For Damian, his learning curve is from an actual different society, but he would actually fit in pretty well in trying to learn American customs while at school because at 5, that's what his classmates are also learning. So, sorry for the disappointment.
R&R if you liked. (need a default response? just say: 'Good Luck, Dami'. I'll accept it.)
