As usual, the night is cold and lonely. Damian's so-called 'brothers' are ignoring him once again. It seems as though they only bother paying attention to him after he has killed or maimed someone, or done something worthy of a harsh scolding and possibly even confinement to the spacious, luxurious halls of the Manor. A prison in its own rights.
Damian sighed. He loathed the city. Gotham: The birthplace of his 'father', Batman, and home of the world's most dangerous villains. Not including his 'grandfather', of course.
Even the secluded apartment complex he sat upon is tainted by this wretched place. Windows, a nonexistent feature of the towering structure. Any glass has been replaced by rotting wooden boards or is simply nonexistent. The light scratching of mice, rats, and roaches scurrying on behind him brings a disgusted sneer to his face. Despite the noise, Damian stays. The chattering rodents is far better than the loud, obnoxious honking of car horns and ear grating screaming of imbeciles. Idiotic people his 'family' deemed worthy of protection. Disgusting, worthless harlots and sleazy scumbags that hold a higher value to his 'family' than he himself. Damian Wayne, son of the Bat- One true heir to the mantle... Not that anyone in the Wayne household actually cares.
So, yes. Without a doubt in the world, Damian abhors this city and every single insignificant creature in it with a burning passion.
An unsightly smog stretches across the sky, effectively hiding the stars and moon. A smell reminiscent of a moldy dumpster assaults his nose. The heavily polluted air of Gotham makes Damian long for the crisp clean air of the mountain. The snowy high peaks he occasionally trained on. The obscured night sky makes him yearn to stand on the peak of said mountain and bask in the brilliant light of the moon. Unfortunately, that is an impossible wish to fulfill. A childish dream that will never come to fruition.
He had been abandoned in this a cursed city by his 'mother' exactly one year ago, yet he still couldn't get used to the 'city life'. It is too noisy; Far too bright for his liking. The mountain, how he wished he could return, but there is no way the League of Assassins would welcome him back with open arms. Talia made it quite clear Damian is no longer her son- that he no longer has a place in the al Ghul family.
But, regardless of the toxic smelling air and annoying lights/noises, it is nice to be away from the Manor. A suffocating atmosphere weighed down the very air dwelling within its' halls. Tension and grief threatened to swallow him whole. The sheer sorrow displayed by Pennyworth, Todd, and Drake is foreign to him. Something considered highly frowned upon in the place of his upbringing- a weakness for enemies to exploit. Damian would be grieving too if not for the fact he hardly knew his 'father'.
Wayne never made an effort to spend time with him, unlike how he constantly partook in frivolous activities with Todd and Drake. Movies, board games, photography contests, that stupid book club- Wayne did everything with those two rats. Damian could admit he was jealous of the amount of attention they received at first, but now he just prays their deaths will be sooner than later.
The boy looked off the edge of his perch, pondering many questions. Some about his life and others about what he will do next. Mainly one inquire stuck out amongst the chattering cloud of thoughts. Did Wayne ever really want me? Damian analyzed previously obtained evidence. Based on these clues, the answer is obvious. So, so obvious. It felt as though his heart was being broken all over again.
No. Of course not, why would he? I was merely meant to be a pawn in his game, just like how I was a pawn for 'Mother' and 'Grandfather'.
Wayne had kept Damian for the sole purpose of keeping him from decapitating or eviscerating people, not because Damian is his son. Even when the man was alive he treated Damian the exact way Todd and Drake do. Ignore him until he's does something wrong and then yell at him. Life with the League of Assassins was so much easier. Train and go on missions- that's all Damian had to do there. Now there are so many things he should and shouldn't be doing it becomes overwhelming. So many rules he is required to follow that he is driven mad: "Don't kill anyone!", they scold; "Do your schoolwork!", they demand; "You need to make friends with kids your age.", they state. The list goes on and on and on.
"No weapons in the house"; "Quit breaking peoples' noses"; "No fighting criminals"; "Be nicer to people"; "Stay home at night"; "Don't sharpen your swords in the kitchen"- that is only a small list of the many things he has been yelled at for. The League of Assassins has a clear set of rules and expectations. But here with Wayne's family, it felt like he was learning a new rule or expectation every day.
A gentle thump shook Damian out of his thoughts. The noise came from behind, soft and almost nonexistent. Naturally, it causes him to stiffen. His first instinct would be to assume it is Todd or Drake, but the noise was far too quiet- far too assassin-like for it to be either of those clamorous elephants. The two are a pair of strident, raucous bats; They could never manage to replicate an assassin's stealth.