At the next staff meeting, Hughes mentioned that Neal was no more.
"If anyone asks, he's no longer here."
Damian felt everyone's eyes on him. He grinned.
Jones raised his hand. "Can I ask what's going on?"
"Neal's record has been wiped clean for exemplary service to the FBI. And we've made a contract with a new security company that he's in charge of."
"You're in security now?" Diana asked Damian. "That's ironic."
"Well, I'm not running it as Neal Caffrey. No one would hire me. I'm running it as Damian."
"Who's Damian?" Jones asked sceptically.
There was a hesitation in the air as Hughes, Peter and Damian shared looks. Damian didn't want to be the one to say it and Hughes and Peter thought he should be the one to share.
"It's Wayne. Damian Wayne. I've had experience running a business since I ran my father's for a time." He heard the mutterings and, even though he couldn't hear what was being said, he could guess. It was the same things which were said whenever he had introduced himself.
There was a reason he had been homeschooled almost his whole life.
"While you may think this confirms theories that Neal Caffrey was created by a bored rich kid, I assure you that isn't the case," Hughes scolded, to Damian's surprise. He had been aware of the theories, which he considered to be close to the truth. "There are other circumstances."
"That messes with the whole paper I was working on," Diana joked.
"There are people who will have to go back and rewrite entire papers on me," Damian informed her, knowing that she didn't have any such paper in the work.
"No. They won't. This doesn't leave this room. If we're lucky, people won't question the disappearance of Neal Caffrey and appearance of Damian."
"If it helps, I'll answer to both."
"That's the strange thing. Answering to both? You won't get confused?"
"Not really. Names are pretty fluid in my family."
"Is that how Jason Todd managed to be 'dead' for so many years?"
Why were people so fascinated by Todd? All he had done was die. Damian had done that too. "Something like that."
"There are people who say it was Bruce Wayne's way of getting rid of the street kid he picked up for points."
"That's not a question," Damian growled at the agent who had spoken. "Todd's death hurt my father and you shouldn't comment on things you know nothing about."
"I guess this explains why Neal Caffrey never hit Bruce Wayne."
"Incorrect. I never hit my father because Wayne has the best security measures and always comes after you. Too much heat for so little pay off."
There seemed to be a collective sigh as they realised that Neal was still Neal in many ways, even though he was related to a very rich family.
Damian waved off another agent with some kind of excuse involving printing that needed collecting. This was a problem. Now that the agents knew his name, they seemed to think he wasn't all that anymore and bugged him with whatever came to mind.
Want to know how a crime could be done? Ask Damian. He's not a criminal anymore so he'll share.
Damian continued to answer the way Neal would but it didn't deter people as easily as it used to.
"How would you pick this lock?" Damian didn't even bother looking at the photo the agent dropped in front of him. He looked up at the agent for a few moments. It wasn't anyone from this floor. So, the rumours had travelled to other floors.
"Do me a favour," he said as he held out the photo to the agent. "Learn how to use google. It's probably a good skill to get."
The room froze. The agent huffed.
"Forgive me for thinking that asking you would be faster and easier than wasting my time on inaccurate searches."
"Are you one of those people who uses google the way you speak? 'How would you pick this lock' isn't effective searching. It's not the searches that are inaccurate but your ability to use them."
The agent looked offended but Damian didn't care. To be honest, he was being much more polite than he would have been outside of the FBI. Anyone else would have gotten a scolding for being an incompetent idiot.
A realisation hit. Maybe that's why people didn't like working under him? At least he could work in a pair or very small group.
Jones was frowning at him.
"You're being... different."
"You mean blunt," Damian said. He had heard it enough times. Or something like it. "It's the easiest way to get people to leave me alone when they need a favour. Especially now that being a vague conman doesn't work."
"So you're manipulating agents."
"Like you don't do the same thing." Damian turned his head to Diana. He hadn't expected her to speak, let alone in his defence. "Everyone plays the office game, Jones, even you. Otherwise we'd never get any work done. Good on you for not letting anyone walk over you, Caffrey."
"Thanks?" He wasn't sure what she was getting at, since he didn't allow people to get their way with him unless he planned it.
"You up for an evening of beer and whatever's on TV? Clinton has a wide screen."
"You're not touching it. Caffrey, yes, Berrigan, no."
Damian didn't want to ruin the moment by mentioning that they knew his last name wasn't 'Caffrey'. He did agree to join them.
To no one's surprise, Jones insisted on playing the night's game on his TV. Damian suspected that Diana knew about the game being tonight as she grinned when he learnt that there was one on that night. Or maybe she just enjoyed the look of pain he had. He never really cared about sports.
Damian grabbed a beer, took a sip and made a face. "Do you have anything drinkable?"
"Caffrey, I've seen the bottles in your fridge."
"Peter drinks that beer too."
"And so do you." Diana grinned at him. She was right and Damian wished he hadn't bought those bottles. While they were for Peter, he didn't mind a drink every now and then.
"Fine. You got me." He drank some more, this time without the theatrics.
About half an hour in, there was a knock at the door. Jones rushed to answer it, hoping to be back before anything happened in the game.
"Uh, I think it's for you," he said to Damian a few moments later. Behind him, Red Hood walked in. This Red Hood wasn't his brother though. This red hood wore a Red Riding Hood type hood and had a bow strapped to her back.
"Yo," she greeted with a wave.
Damian glared. Years of being Neal meant that he managed to avoid random heroes turning up whenever. "What do you want, Harper?"
"How mean. I heard you started a security company. Want a new employee?"
"Are you hiring superheroes now?" Diana asked Damian.
"No."
"You hired Mar'i."
"Mar'i has sense and isn't related to a competitor."
Red Hood, Lian Harper, shrugged. "Anyway, that aside, I need your help with something."
"Something?"
She grinned. "You're in security now so I need your help. Mar'i recently acquired a thing and she needs help to protect the thing."
"A thing?" Not the most descriptive term.
"Yep. She's under attack right now."
She couldn't possibly mean right this moment? Damian stared for a moment before realising that Lian was completely serious.
"I'm going to have to cut this short," he said to Diana and Jones.