Disclaimer: I don't own Batman or DC


Chapter 2: Two Sides To Every Story

Damian stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom in Wayne Manor. He was in his bed, shirtless, with scars lined up and down his body. Beside him was Kara Danvers, who placed her head on his chest and sighed in contentment.

"You work yourself too hard," she said, tracing some of his scars with her finger.

"I don't work hard enough," Damian said. He shifted his eyes down to Kara and would place his arm around her. "There's still so much left for me to do. Gotham's a cesspool, and I have to clean it up just like my father did."

"You know what'd he think about how you're going about it," Kara said, looking up at him.

Damian sighed and closed his eyes for a brief moment.

"He'd undoubtedly hate me for killing while wearing the symbol he created. He excommunicated Todd for killing, I could only imagine what he would do to me. He'd say that I've become as bad as the criminals…but in reality, I've become worse, but being worse is getting results," Damian said in reflection of his war with Gotham's criminal underbelly.

"I may not agree with your methods, but it's not my place to judge you. This is your city, and all I can say is…" Kara trailed off. She sat up a bit to look Damian in the eyes. "I'll love you no matter what."

Damian wanted to say that he loved her as well, but proclaiming any kind of love to anyone was a difficult task. He never said it to his mother, he never said it to his father or even his brother. As if she could tell that he was thinking about it, Kara leaned down to kiss him and silence his doubts. However, before she could, she stopped only a few inches away from his lips. Blood began to trickle down from her mouth, causing Damian's expression to turn to that of confusion and concern.

"...Kara?" he asked, sitting up.

Inside Kara's back was a green Kryptonite spear. The Kryptonian began to gasp for air and would fall over onto her side. Damian leaned over her, eyes widened and his hands trembling.

"No…NO! KARA!" he yelled in horror.


Damian woke up in a cold sweat and would sit up in his bed. He looked to the left of him to find that there was no Kara laying beside him. He was alone in his bed, as he'd been for 18 years. He rubbed his face and sighed before reaching over to his nightstand, where a journal sat next to a pen. He grabbed the journal, opened it to a blank page, and began to write:

FEBRUARY 12TH,

Another nightmare, this time about Kara. It's a change from the usual of my father's death, or an eternity in Hell. She dies beside me, after a conversation about my methods of crimefighting. It wasn't too different from a conversation we had after I first wore the cowl. Why is it coming up now? Why Kara? Why show her death? What is my subconscious mind trying to tell me? Is there a level of guilt, not just for what I've done to protect this city, but for how I treated Kara during the last days of our relationship? I'll conclude more if it becomes reoccurring.

Damian moved out of his bed and placed the journal back down on the nightstand. He stretched for a moment before falling forward onto his hands to begin several push-ups. After he'd finished about 30 of them, he stood to his feet, grabbed a grey shirt from his dresser, and walked towards the door.

When he left his bedroom and descended the stairs of the spacious Wayne Manor, he found the smell of bacon entering his nose. Damian pulled the shirt onto his body and walked into the kitchen, where 16-year-old Nicholas Wayne sat at the table. Before him was a plate full of bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Julia, who had been standing over the stove, turned around to catch sight of Damian.

"Ah, you're awake. I thought about bringing you your breakfast, but then I remembered you're a grown man who can come down here and eat," she said with a slight smirk.

Julia placed a plate down in front of the empty chair across from Nicholas and gestured for Damian to sit. He stared at the food for a moment, as if analyzing its contacts. Damian rubbed his face again and would sit down at the table.

"You look like you had a rough night," Nick remarked while sticking a fork into his eggs.

"I often have several," Damian said with a voice devoid of energy. He grabbed his silverware and began to dig into his breakfast.

Julia sat down at the table between the two Wayne's with her own steaming plate. Nick glanced at her, and then at Damian.

"Look at this, when's the last time we all sat down and ate something like a family? Dad would be proud," he said with a slight smile.

"I don't think he'd care either way, " Damian replied before biting down on a piece of bacon.

Julia grabbed a knife and began cutting into her pancakes while occasionally glancing at the two brothers.

"It'd be even more special if we had the whole family here," she commented.

Damian remained silent and instead focused on cutting his pancakes into squares. Nick picked up a glass of orange juice and drank from it for a few seconds before placing it down.

"Maybe if someone would bury the hatchet with Melanie, the family might come back together," he said with a long side-eye towards Damian.

An uncomfortable silence filled the kitchen. The conversation that was about to ensue was one Damian wasn't looking forward to. He raised a fork to his mouth and bite off a pancake square.

"Some families aren't close. The sooner you accept that, the easier it'll be on your mind," he said.

Nicholas rolled his eyes.

"Really? That's how you're playing it? The whole reason the family isn't close is that you and Melanie went at each other's throats, and wanted everyone to pick a side," he responded.

Damian leaned back in his chair and sighed, not wanting to carry the conversation on any further.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for Themyscira?" Damian asked in an attempt to change the subject.

Nick gave Damian a look of disbelief, followed by him shaking his head and scoffing.

"There it is, the classic Damian Wayne move. Changing the subject when you know you're wrong," he said before standing up and leaving the table. He walked out of the kitchen and dashed up the stairs.

Once his footsteps faded out, Julia shot Damian a disappointed look.

"He's right, you know," she said while finishing her breakfast.

"I assume you'll tell me how," Damian said in an uninterested manner.

Julia placed her fork down, grabbed a napkin from the table, and gently wiped her mouth before speaking.

"When you and Melanie blew up at each other, you both wanted everyone to pick a side. Good on them for not doing so, by the way, but it left the family fractured. Rick moved to Bludhaven, and Sam retired. Your apprentice, your student, gave it all up. The ones still active here in Gotham act entirely on their own. It's like none of you know each other. You wonder why your war on crime isn't proving very fruitful? It's because it should be a war you're fighting with your family by your side, not alone."

Julia took a breath once she was finished. Damian stared back at her, his eyes sharp as broken glass. He knew that there was an amount of truth in what she said, but there was still much that he refused to acknowledge. He looked back down at his now empty plate and cleared his throat.

"Is that all?" he asked.

Julia sighed and shook her head. She stood up, grabbed his plate, and placed it in the sink.

"You have so many people in your life, Damian. You don't have to be alone," she said.

"I'm not alone. You're here, so is Nick," he replied.

Julia stood over her plate and finished picking off what was left. Once she had stuffed the last bit of pancakes into her mouth and swallowed, she rolled her eyes.

"Yes, you have your literal, blood-brother and me, the woman who promised your father she'd take care of you. By default, you have us," she said while placing her plate in the sink. "When's the last time you talked to your kids, even?"

Damian paused at the question. The topic of his children never came up much, which led to it briefly stumping him. His eyes shifted around while his mind began recollecting memory of his last interactions with his kids.

"I talked with Kariah a few months back," he answered.

Julia looked over her shoulder with an eyebrow raised.

"What about Akira?"

Silence filled the room once again. Damian didn't have an answer, or more accurately he didn't have an answer that he wanted to share. Julia seemed to recognize this and would cut the water off. She dried her hands on a paper towel and turned around to gaze at Damian with her arms crossed.

"You haven't talked to him since you left."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement. It was a statement that rang true in Damian's head, and one that was filled with a considerable amount of judgment.

"He's better off without me. With his mother there and retired, he'll continue to live a life away from vigilante work," Damian said.

"The boy has vigilantism in both sides of the family, I don't think there's any stopping that," Julia said, looking down in thought.

Damian stood up and began heading out of the kitchen.

"That'll be Emiko's call to make, not mine."

Before he could leave, a small blue flash of light appeared in front of Damian. Standing in front of him was Nick, now fully in his Amazonian gear. He wore a sleeveless armored burgundy hoodie, which had a silver "W" on his chest that stretched into bat wings. He also wore navy blue combat pants, red and silver boots, as well as silver gauntlets on his arms that rested on top of a pair of long fingerless gloves.

Damian shot Nick a cold glare, which prompted his brother to raise his hands in defense.

"Sorry, I can't help the powers I was blessed with," he said while inching past Damian as if to not further poke the beast.

"You can not use them in the house," Damian said in a low tone, neglecting to use any real energy in his scolding.

Julia's face lit up at the sight of Nick, prompting her to walk over to him and adjust the collar of his jacket.

"Look at you…just the spitting image of Diana. There's some of your father in there too but, you feature your mother more. The Prince of Themyscira…I've met my fair share of princes back in my heyday but never did I think I'd be living under the same roof as one," she said with a beaming smile.

Nick appeared a bit embarrassed, evident by the redness coloring his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from Julia.

"Yeah well, it would be great if I was prince not just in name, and actually had some power," he said.

Julia paused and raised a coy eyebrow.

"Typical men, wanting to hold power over women," she said with a shake of her head.

Nick quickly shook his head to dispel the notion.

"N-No, that's not what I meant-"

"I'm only teasing, Nick, don't worry," Julia said with a humored smile. She turned around and made her way back to the sink to finish cleaning up. "I know you're not like that."

"You may not have political power," Damian began, standing against the doorframe with his arms crossed. "But each of those women on that island would fight and die for you. No other man can say that."

Nick looked back at Damian with a puzzled expression, which changed into that of a smile.

"Thanks…I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," Nick said before stretching his arms. "I should get going. I'll uh…I guess I'll see you guys in a couple of weeks. Don't blow up Gotham while I'm gone."

Damian gave him a nod in acknowledgment. Within seconds, Nick disappeared in another flash of blue light. Damian stared at the spot where he previously stood for just a few moments. Once he finally blinked, he looked up and turned to leave.

"Where are you off to?" Julia asked.

Damian stopped and looked over his shoulder at her.

"It's like you said yesterday…Damian Wayne has a busy day ahead of him."


Thorne Family Clinic, Coventry District - 8 AM

The office of Matthew Thorne, which would normally be open to the public during the day, was now a crime scene. Police and forensic scientists filled the scene, which had been sectioned off with yellow crime scene tape. Matthew Thorne's deceased body sat in his office, in the same position where he had been shot to death. It was largely untouched, except for the addition of duct tape across his mouth, with "SHHH" written on it in red.

Renee Montoya, wearing a gray and blue suit, walked onto the scene, with her badge visible on her hip. Once she made her into the office, she scowled at the sight of Thorne's body. A forensic photographer stood off to the side taking pictures of all evidence, while Lieutenant Jake Allen stood in front of the desk.

"Jesus Christ…just the way I like to start my morning," Renee said sarcastically.

Jake turned his head once he heard Renee's voice, and would chuckle.

"Well commissioner with all due respect, if my black ass gotta be here, then so do you," he said in jest.

Renee looked around the room, taking a moment to analyze everything she could before taking a few steps toward Jake.

"I know I don't have to ask who the victim is, what's important is what exactly went down?" she asked.

"Well according to the lab geeks, Thorne was shot about…" Jake trailed off, looking towards one of the CSIs, who was squatting down, looking further into the scene for evidence. The CSI noticed Jake at the last second and hopped up to his feet.

"The victim was shot about 15 times in the body, likely hitting multiple vital organs, he died almost instantly. A bit overkill if you ask me, but whoever did it wanted him to be as dead as possible. Despite their erratic nature, the bullets were confined strictly to the body, there was no head wound. So whoever our killer is, they were precise in their targeting," the CSI responded.

Montoya walked around the desk and would stand next to Thorne's body. Her eyes were drawn to the tape over his mouth, along with the writing on it. She tilted her head to the side for just a moment to process.

"Well, this certainly wasn't a robbery, though I don't know any nutbag that would rob a doctor. Whoever did this, was sending a message," she said. Her eyes drifted down to the phone on his desk, but before she could move on to a specific thought about it, her ears picked up a commotion outside.

A blonde-haired woman, wearing a navy blue pantsuit was standing in front of the crime scene tape, yelling at the police officer on duty.

"You know who I am! I need to know what happened to my cousin! If you don't let me in so help me God, you'll be in the unemployment line. I can make it happen!"

"I'm sorry councilwoman, I can't. Standard protocol-"

"I don't give a damn about protocol, my cousin's office got shot up! I called him and he didn't answer, now someone better tell me what happened!" she yelled.

Montoya walked outside, one hand in her pocket. Jake was standing beside her and sighed at the sight of the woman.

"As if we needed this…" he whispered to Renee.

Montoya took a step forward and held her hand out in a gesture to calm the woman.

"Calm down, Rose. Please, just take a breather."

Rose turned her attention to Montoya and scoffed.

"Finally, someone who can actually give me answers. What happened, Montoya? Is Matt okay?" she asked with deep concern.

Montoya sighed, rubbed her face, and looked back at Jake for a moment. She moved under the caution tape and walked over to Rose. She placed her arm around her shoulder and let her a bit away from the scene.

"Rose I uh…there's no easy way to say this, and I'm sorry…but your cousin was murdered," she said with as much remorse in her voice as possible.

Rose, at first glance, didn't appear to react to the news. She stared at Renee, almost as if waiting for her to take it back. When those initial few seconds passed, the wall came down and Rose began to cry. At first, it was a weak, silent cry, that became more and more hysterical. Renee remained silent, a shoulder to cry on for the councilwoman.

"Who would…why would…" Rose stammered, shaking her head in an attempt to make sense of it all.

"That's what we're wondering too, Rose. Do you know anyone…anyone who would want your cousin dead? Any enemies?" she asked.

Rose sniffled, reaching into her purse to grab a tissue to catch her tears.

"I-I-I don't know, I mean he was a doctor for God's sake! You never hear about them getting murdered! After I heard there was a shooting, I-I tried calling him…a few times. He didn't answer and I just…"

Rose trailed off, finding herself filled once again with emotion to where she could hardly speak. The mention of her attempt to call her cousin, caused Montoya's attention to shift back to Matthew's phone.

"This… is exactly why I'm running for Mayor. This city's been a gutter for far longer than I've been alive, but when it comes to a point where good people, doctor's who save lives aren't safe…it's time for a change," Rose said with a newly determined look shining through her pained expression.

Montoya looked back at the office before placing a hand on Rose's shoulder.

"I have to head back inside and finish up. If anything comes up that could be useful to the investigation, you come down to the station, okay? We're gonna bring your cousin's killer to justice, I promise you that."

Montoya walked off towards the office at a quickened pace. She passed by Jake, who had been watching the whole ordeal.

"You know I could've consoled her. I don't have these big shoulders for nothing," he said with a lighthearted grin on his face.

"Not now Allen," Montoya said as she speed-walked into Matthew's office.

Once inside, she made a beeline for Matthew's desk.

"Where's the fire, commissioner?" Jake asked as he followed her.

"His phone hasn't been placed in an evidence bag yet has it?" she asked while taking out a pair of gloves.

The CSI, who had been collecting other evidence into bags, looked over his shoulder and shook his head.

"Not yet, no."

"Good," Montoya responded. Once she had her gloves on, she grabbed the phone and turned it on, only to find that it was locked via a thumbprint. "Shit…"

Her gaze dropped down to Matthew's hand, as did Jake's. The two raised their heads to lock eyes with one another. Jake grimaced a bit at the shared realization.

"You know that's messed up, right?"

Montoya shook her head and grabbed Matthew's hand carefully. She pressed his thumb to the phone to unlock it and would place his hand back in its original position afterward.

"Do you plan on clueing me into why the phone is so important?" Jake asked with a raised eyebrow.

Montoya pressed the icon for Thorne's call log, and would only have to scroll once to find what she was after. There were several missed calls, including those from Rose. She furrowed her eyebrows briefly, before holding the phone up to show Jake the screen.

"Why was Dr. Thorne's last conversation with Danilo Maroni?"


Wayne Enterprises - 9 AM

The early morning traffic in Gotham was at its usual pace, not without life but also not experiencing rush hour either. Among the traffic was a red Ferrari that sped through at a faster pace than the traffic around it. The car weaved in and out of traffic before coming to a stop in front of Gotham's tallest building, Wayne Tower.

The door to the car opened and out stepped Damian Wayne in one of his least expensive gray suits, which still was even more than most in his social class could afford. He tossed the keys to one of the valet drivers and gave an appreciative nod. Once he made his way into the building, he was greeted by the security guards as well as the receptionist.

"Morning everyone, let's have another productive day, shall we?" he said with a cheeky smile.

Damian made his way to the elevator and stepped inside. Before the doors could close, a hand came in between them to interrupt. In walked Bruce Podolsky, Damian's strategic consultant.

"Oof, made it. Hey Damian," Bruce said while moving to stand next to him. He adjusted the collar to his suit and looked up to the floor counter as the elevator began to move up.

"Bruce…" Damian said in acknowledgment. The name of his father was still one that stirred up a sick feeling inside whenever he heard it. For just a brief moment, his mind flashed back to the day he died, a memory that threatened to overwhelm Damian each time. Damian quickly blinked out of the memory and refocused on the man standing next to him. "I uh…didn't know if you'd show today, considering that party you went to last night. I would've thought you were all partied out, or at least hungover."

"Nah, I didn't drink that much. I'm scaling that back a bit. Regardless though, we missed you. It was a great party, I tell you. Why couldn't you come again?" Bruce asked, looking over at Damian with his head tilted slightly.

Damian's mind drifted to the previous night's events. The scene of him attacking the thugs at Rags'n Tatters played through his mind like a highlight reel.

"I had to help an old friend," Damian replied.

"Well while you were doing that, I was making two new friends. The most beautiful Spanish twins I've ever seen, like the same woman but cloned. Had you been there, you could've had one, I could've had one. Even split," Bruce said with a cheeky smile.

The elevator bell rang, signaling that they had arrived at their designated floor. The doors opened, and Damian would walk through first.

"I'll catch the next set of twins," he said, knowing full well that he likely wouldn't.

Damian greeted his secretary Lyn on the way to his office, who quickly put her phone away.

"Hi, Mr. Wayne. Hi Mr. Podolsky," she said with a nervous smile.

Bruce followed Damian to his office but stopped at Lyn's desk first. He leaned against it with one arm propped up.

"It's Bruce, remember? Calling me Mr. Podolsky is two years ago," he said with a friendly smile before swiftly moving into Damian's office.

The office was spacious, having its own bar as well as a full bookshelf. Behind Damian's desk was a large window, that gave him the best view of the entire city. On one of the adjacent walls to the office doors was a picture of Thomas and Martha Wayne, along with little Bruce, while on the other was a portrait of Bruce and Damian, taken not too long after Damian began staying with his father.

Damian walked around his desk and took a seat before logging into his computer. Bruce came to a stop in front of the desk and would watch him with a raised eyebrow.

"Why are you staring at me?" Damian asked without even looking up.

"I'm just…trying to figure out what's different about you. Well, I think I know what's different, but I guess I'm trying to figure out why you're different," Bruce responded.

"Okay…what do you think is different?" Damian asked.

"You're becoming less…I don't know, focused? No, that's not the right word. Engaged? Yeah, engaged. I've noticed that these past couple of months, you've been taking more and more steps back. Not just socially, but business-wise also. Tiffany's been a lot more hands-on, and I get that she's your business manager but…it feels like you're becoming ever so distant. So when I ask you this, answer truthfully…are you about to retire?"

Damian stopped what he was doing, and shifted his attention to Bruce. These kinds of conversations were the ones he hated, but he had to continue playing the part of Damian Wayne. Evidently, he had started slipping in that regard. Damian scoffed at the notion, and even let out a small laugh.

"Retiring? Come on. I'm not retiring, hell I'll never retire. When I leave this company, I'm going out the same way my father did…on his death bed," Damian said. Right as the words left his mouth, his eyes drifted up to the portrait of his father. "It's just uh…I've been dealing with…family stuff. That's all."

Bruce nodded in understanding.

"Oh trust me, I get that. I've dealt with my fair share of family issues. I uh…I know you don't talk about your family much-"

"And it'll continue to be that way," Damian interjected. He folded his hands together and looked up at Bruce with both eyebrows raised. "Now unless you have something important to talk to me about, Dent will be here for our meeting soon enough."

Bruce opened his mouth but closed it soon after. He nodded and began backing away towards the door.

"Right…right. For the record though, I'm the one who came up with the idea of this meeting in the first place," he said with a small smile.

"Of course, and if it fails you'll be the one to blame," Damian said, turning his attention back to his computer.

Once Bruce had left through the door, Damian pulled up GCN's news feed. It was a habit he developed ever since becoming Batman. Whenever there was an idle moment to himself, he needed to see what events were taking place in the city, whether criminal or not. The station was currently airing a live press conference, held by Rose Thorne.


"My cousin has done nothing but save lives. Countless life-saving surgeries, and for what? To be gunned down? What has this city become when its doctors are the targets of such violence? This is precisely why I am running for mayor. We have lost our way as a city, and I can't just stand by with all my power, all my influence, and not do something. Damian Wayne may sit in his ivory tower, throwing down a few thousand dollars every so often but money can't change this city. The people in power can. People who truly care about the wellbeing of Gotham as I do."

Rose's speech played on the TV screens down at the Gotham City Police Department Headquarters. Renee stood behind the desk in her office, watching the speech with a coffee cup in hand. Standing in front of her desk was Jake, who watched the speech with a disappointed glare.

"She oughta be ashamed of herself. Her cousin just died, and she's making it political," Jake said with a shake of his head.

"It's what politicians do, Allen. They take whatever comes their way, and use it for their political gain. Doesn't matter if it's their own family," Renee responded, before taking a sip from her cup.

Jake sighed and looked over his shoulder at the police commissioner.

"What are you gonna do about Maroni? You know that smug SOB ain't gonna answer questions without lawyering up," he said.

Renee nodded, keeping her eyes squarely on the TV.

"I know…but what if we're not the ones asking the questions?" she asked, giving a small smirk.

Jake raised an eyebrow at first, but within moments his face changed into one of realization at what she was insinuating.

"...Which one though?"


Next Chapter 3: Chasing Ghosts