This is a thing. Same style as chapter 2. Also, another mention of chapter 26 (and sort of 28).

Before anyone asks, no, Damian is still not sleeping. But literally just lying there. For sake of argument, let's say he goes to some sort of meditative state. And let's just assume that the animals don't necessarily understand what death is, so, to them, other spirits are just funny-looking humans, not other-worldly.


"In the name of Master's sanity," Titus whined, throwing a paw over his face. "Will you shut her up."

Alfred stopped licking his paw to send a haughty glance the dog's way. "Master is not here, you twit. She is bothering no one."

The cat then stood, stretching out his front legs, and looked over to where Desdemona sat on the coffee table, hissing and swatting at the air.

"Besides," Alfred sighed, moving away. "She's doing a much better job of protecting this house than you are."

Titus's head shot up from the floor as he growled at his friend. "I protect this house just fine." He heard Alfred huff in disbelief. Titus stood to follow him. "And anyway, my boy said there is no danger."

"Away with you!" Desdemona screeched at a spirit hovering over the couch. It stared at her blankly before a yellow-glowing butter knife appeared in his hand. Desdemona hissed, throwing her paw at the man. The man blinked and disappeared. Desdemona sat down, chest puffed out proudly. "I will not allow any of you to attack Timothy's father's home!"

"Believe it or not, my dear canine," Alfred purred, jumping up beside the younger cat. "But Damian is not always correct."

"Well…" Titus lowered his ears, staring at all of the other ghosts slowly floating in and out of the sitting room. Today, it was tame. The spirits that had suddenly taken residence in the manor weren't always this tranquil. "…Damian's right most of the time…"

"Where is Damian anyway?" Desdemona asked. "I have barely seen him since he protected my Timothy from these strange humans."

"That's because your Timothy is fragile," Titus mocked, walking over to the window. The yard, too, was full of these other transparent beings, just walking around like lost sheep.

"What he means," Alfred explained calmly, before Desdemona could retort. "Is that we haven't seen Damian in a while either."

"Where do you think he's gone now, Alfred?" Titus asked softly, continuing to watch the spirits in the yard. His eyes darted between the lawn and the driveway, ready to protect his master, should the man return home any time soon.

"He's been busy dealing with these…things." Alfred sounded distracted. Titus turned to see the elder cat had curled himself around Desdemona, and was swiping at a child not much younger than Damian. "He told us as much last time we saw him. I wouldn't worry too much, Titus."

"I'm not worried." Titus responded quickly, spinning his head back to the window. "I just…I miss him. That's all."

"Maybe he is with my Timothy?" Desdemona squeaked, peeking at the dog over Alfred's back. "Timothy always tells me stories about when they work together. Them and that Grayson person."

Titus shook his head. "No, Timothy is with that team of humans. My boy says he hates them. So I doubt they are together this time."

"Regardless, he is fine, Titus." Alfred cut in. "Have some faith in our child."

"I do." Titus huffed. "I just…I do not like these other see-through people. It is fine when it's Damian, or that child that seems to follow him…or even the see-through Grayson that isn't Grayson because Grayson is not see-through. They are okay. But I don't like these other ones."

"Nor me." Desdemona said, ducking under Alfred's paw. "When they are mad, they throw you against walls."

"That has not happened here," Titus murmured. "But I am…concerned. If our boy is not here…could that happen to Master? Or the one who gives us food? I think that's why we need-"

"Damian?" Desdemona whispered.

"Yes," Titus agreed. "He should be here. Because if he's here, then Master and Food-Giver will be-"

"Damian!" Desdemona mewed loudly, jumping out of Alfred's embrace. Titus and Alfred turned to look at her; she was standing on the edge of the table, staring out into the hallway towards the stairs. All of the spirits in the room had turned, too. There was a flicker of movement upstairs, a small flash of green.

A small whisper echoed through the room and, in an instant, all of the ghosts were gone. As relief flooded Titus's body, he glanced back out to the yard. All the transparent beings were gone there as well. Quickly, Titus trotted out of the room, passing a Desdemona who, while struggling to jump from the table, was muttering a happy litany of, "Damian, Damian, Damian, Damian…"

Titus paused in the large hallway, staring up the stairs to see Damian slowly strolling down the hall, surveying the family portraits that lined the wall. He didn't seem injured, but looked as through he was distracted. Exhausted. The dog sniffed and moved up the steps. Damian glanced back at him as he reached the top landing, and a smile spread across his face. "Ah, there you are. Miss me, boy?"

"Very much!" Titus wagged his tail as he walked forward. Damian patted his head gently, before continuing his trek down the hall. Titus stuck to his side, tail incessantly whipping the back of the boy's legs. Damian didn't seem to mind. They ended their journey in Damian's room, where he promptly flopped onto his bed. Titus jumped up next to him, nuzzling his elbow. Damian turned on his side, wrapping the other arm around Titus's neck, pressing his nose into the fur.

They sat in silence for a few moments, before a shuffling sound was heard at the door. Both Damian and Titus glanced up to see Alfred jogging into the room, Desdemona hanging limply from his mouth. Damian smiled again as Alfred leapt onto the bed, depositing Desdemona on his shoulder. The kitten mewed hoarsely, shaking her head quickly before kneading at Damian's shirt. Alfred opted to occupy the small space between Damian's stomach and Titus's foot, curling up into a tight ball, with his head on Damian's side. When the cats were comfortable, Damian pressed his head back against Titus's fur, fingers absently petting Alfred's head.

"Mother is stepping up her game." He sighed quietly. "She attacked the Outlaws today. Todd wasn't with them – I don't know where he is – and I don't know if Mother knew that. Be she attacked the alien and the archer anyway."

Desdemona stumbled against his cheek, licking him with her sharp tongue.

"I was lucky, Titus. I was so lucky I was able to distract the attackers long enough that Starfire could get Arsenal out." Damian's voice was shaky. All three animals stared at him in concern. "They stabbed him. Turns out those spirit-weapons? They can hurt living creatures. And there were so many more enemies this time. At least double the amount that went after Drake."

Desdemona looked up at Titus, adoration shining in her eyes at the mention of her Timothy. Titus lowered his ears. Poor kitten. She has no idea what Damian's talking about. Not that Titus really did either, but he could tell his boy was scared, and that was all that mattered.

"So if Mother sent that many to go after Todd…is she just upping the ante? What about when she goes after Grayson? Or Father? Will her army be ten-fold?" Damian shuddered. "I…I don't know if I can handle that much."

Titus let out a low whine, nudging his nose against Damian's head. "Why is he sad?" Desdemona asked, gently pawing at Damian's face. "Timothy gets this way sometimes. Well…a lot of times. And I still haven't found a good way to get him out of it."

"You don't." Alfred said quietly. "You just…let them be sad. You sit here with them, listen to their troubles and let them be sad."

"And you only do something if they ask you to." Titus added. "But even then…"

"I don't know who these spirits hanging around the manor are." Damian's voice was muffled against Titus's fur. "I would assume Mother sent them. But they haven't done much of anything yet, so I suppose I can let them be." He hummed, looking down towards Alfred. "Maybe they're just old Wayne family members. Only, unlike Grandmother and Grandfather, have no invested interest in what I do or where I go."

Alfred purred in agreement.

Damian sighed, closing his eyes. "That's the one thing that sucks about being dead. You don't sleep." He smiled slightly, "'I'll sleep when I'm dead.' Grayson said that once. Well, joke's on you, idiot."

The boy shifted closer to his animals. He opened one eye, glancing between the three. "Regardless, I'm going to lie here and rest a bit. That battle took more out of me than I expected. Force me up in about an hour or so, all right? I would like to go make sure the Outlaws are okay. Or that Todd found them, at the very least."

Titus huffed against Damian's hair in promise, but skeptically looked down at Alfred, who nodded. Damian needed more than an hour's rest.

"Make sure they do it, okay Desdemona?" Damian muttered, gathering the kitten up in his arms as he closed his eyes once more. She meowed lightly. "If you do, I promise I'll get you into the cave to meet Bat-cow tonight."

Desdemona purred happily, giving slight glares to her elders. "I'm going to do it!" she cried. "You two have been promising me Bat-cow for a month!"

"Of course, of course," Alfred drawled, turning over. "Remember, Damian requested one hour. So, in one hour, lick his face a few times."

"Okay!"

Titus couldn't help but laugh to himself a little as he turned on his side, throwing a paw across Damian's shoulders. By his estimation, it would take Desdemona about three hours to realize she didn't know how long one was.

But with Damian safe and secure and here beneath his arm, that was perfectly fine by him.