"I never formally introduced myself," Officer Grayson says after the sun begins to peek it's head into the golden horizon forming outside the window. "I'm Richard Grayson. My friends just call me Dick."
Damian doesn't look at him as he introduces himself. He thinks that the sun is a much more interesting view even though he has seen it many times in his lifetime. Perhaps, should he look straight into the sun, it would take mercy on his pitiful soul and burn him to a crisp. Then he wouldn't have to worry about being held captive.
It was strange.
He had traded one lunatic for another.
Richard Grayson.
Dick.
Damian voices his thoughts, "What is your relationship with the miscreant that calls himself my father?"
Damian can feel the officer's eyes on him even though his own gaze was directed elsewhere.
"Our relationship is... complicated," Grayson answers carefully.
Damian does not appreciate the vague reply.
"Forgive me for prying," Grayson begins while Damian has already sworn to not forgive him, "but how did you come to be in Bruce's care?"
Damian clicks his tongue against his teeth in mild annoyance.
"He captured me," Damian seethes, "and imprisoned me within his manor."
The officer blinks.
"Captured...?"
"In a term that even children can understand," Damian thinks himself to be rather generous to explain his situation any further to the man who was acting as his current host as he continues, "I was kidnapped." Damian does not bother to go any further than that.
"He must have known that Al Ghuls grow weaker in captivity," Grayson mutters loud enough for Damian to hear him. Damian's eyes then fly over to Grayson's figure and he observes how the man brings a hand up to massage his chin. The thoughtful expression on the officer's face does not slip Damian's watchful gaze.
"The Al Ghuls are not weak." Damian defends. "Never do they grow weak."
His answer seemed to fascinate Grayson.
"Every race has its weaknesses..." he says slowly, watching Damian's expression for the slightest twitch, "and your people are no exception."
"The Al Ghuls are superior to the rest of the populace," Damian growls, "and that is how it will always be."
"Perhaps that is what you were led to believe." Grayson doesn't bother cutting corners. "The Al Ghuls grow weaker in solitude."
Damian prepares to retort but his mind runs back to his captivity in one of the manor's rooms. His authority over the shadows had dwindled greatly. He thought it to be a ward of some kind, something to keep him from escaping, but could his father had known that he already held a weakness? Had he decided to use that information and use it to keep Damian grounded within his home?
"We do not grow weak in captivity," Damian snarls, denying any logic in his brain, and decides to drive solely on his emotion. His pride as an Al Ghul blood heir was on the line. He could not forsake it, even if he wanted to be free from the shackles of his mother's grip, and of his grandfather's expectations.
Grayson ignores him and continues, "Did you not wonder why Bruce was extremely possessive of you? Elves have long lives. Yet, despite that, they lack the ability to bear children freely. Your very existence is a rare one. You have inherited such a weakness. The weakness of elves. The weakness of the Al Ghuls."
"Should you call me weak one more time," Damian threatens, hissing like a venomous snake ready to strike, but the officer is not deterred. The only thing that stops Damian is the lump that he hides close to his chest. A kitten that had long since fallen asleep in his warm hold.
"I have not said any such thing," Grayson insists. "I'm simply explaining your bloodlines to you."
"As if I would need your assistance," Damian growls, "stupid fool. Just release me and let me be on my way. That is the least one of your intelligence can do."
Grayson's lips quirk into a small smile.
"No can do, kiddo."
Kiddo?
"You're under my protection now."
A glint.
Damian had nearly missed it.
Grayson's eyes flash a bright yellow but it disappears as soon as it had appeared.
"And I'm very territorial."