DISCHARGED

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— It is better to sleep some more... — Selina suggested while putting one of Bruce's arms around her shoulders — ... you look terrible.

— It was three hours in a taxi... — Wayne mumbled. However, he did not refuse to receive help.

— Alfred also stayed in the same taxi for three hours and it seems perfectly fine — she said, looking in the distance at the butler who was walking from side to side putting everything he could in order — Bruce, you need to rest.

— I need to know how my son is doing.

— He is fine — She held him a little more tightly, they were about to start climbing the stairs that led to the second floor, where the rooms were — And you need to be well to take care of him...

— Why is everyone so stubborn with me? I just want to see my son and talk to him.

Selina chose not to continue that discussion.

The two walked slowly up the steps, and as they approached Damian's room, they could hear more laughter and lively conversation more clearly. They were getting along...

— Tries to remain calm — It was everything the cat asked before opening the door and leaving her boyfriend there. She knew that this moment was up to him and his children, mainly because she would not agree if he took any mitigation measures with anyone.

Bruce mumbled something close to an "ok" and continued to stand in front of the door for a few seconds, listening to the children's discussion before interrupting them:

— I want a rematch! — Jason said irritably. At first glance, you couldn't tell if he was bothered by the lost game or with Richard practically thrown at him.

— Accept as soon as you lost, five to zero is enough shame! — Tim said between laughs.

— You are only winning because Dick is not perched on you! — the other replied.

— I was exactly like that when Bruce beat you the other time... — Grayson remembered between laughter — Give the control to Dami, come on!

— For me? — the little one, who until that moment had only been content to watch, seemed almost flattered by that — But I will lose worse than Jay…

— Hey!

— I'll take it easy with you, gremlin — Drake smiled looking at his younger brother. He was the only one sitting on the floor, making sure their faces were at the same height.

After that awful first impression between them, it was enough for Tim to sleep for a few hours until he realized that as much as Damian was "pretending", it didn't necessarily imply anything bad - in fact, he was much preferring this improved version and obedient to the demon Wayne. The little one, incidentally, barely remembered what had happened at dawn; which helped Timmy to be presented to him as a "nerdy and cool" brother, instead of that "bad guy" impression.

— Thanks, Tim — the youngest smiled awkwardly, finally accepting control.

— Before starting another match of Dirt Rally without me, I would like to clarify some points... — Bruce took advantage to began his speech rehearsed mentally throughout the Metropolis path until then. The children kept their eyes on him, looks that intensified even more when the eldest stood between his children and the TV. He took a deep breath and caught the attention of the first "victim": — Dick.

— B? — the boy responded by sitting properly on the bed.

— You did a good job in my absence... — When he started to get a smile from Grayson, he added: — But you need to stop being so impulsive towards your brother. If Jason hadn't arrived, what would you do? You would look for them without knowing where to start?

— ... Sorry — There were no other words for him to say.

— Tim...

— Yes, Bruce? — the boy looked at him. He was almost as finished as his father: dark circles, red eyes, tiredness on his face... all that was left was stubble - or rather, some sign of beard.

— ... Rest, we'll talk later.

Resentful, Timmy got up and left the room. Dick went with him, he didn't want to hear the end of that conversation.

— ... You don't even have to say anything, Bruce... — Jason murmured, getting up too — I'm going to pack my things.

— As well? — Damian stared at his brother — Jason, where are you going? — He tried to get up too, but all he had to do was force his injured leg to change his mind.

— Stay calm, brat... I'll send you news, okay? — the rebel smiled trying to look good with that, when in fact the only thing that prevented him from throwing himself at his father's feet and begging to stay there - with that chance to be able to pretend that everything was fine - was pride.

— Jason, you didn't even let me speak — The older man said after a long sigh.

— Say what? That I let you down again; that I am an awkward rebel; that I better get away before I do something wrong or... — Jason couldn't finish listing all the possible mistakes he has already made - lucky him, because there were many before he got to his brother's kidnapping and BMW theft.

— You did the right thing and... — Bruce interrupted him, placing a hand on his shoulder — ... I'm proud of you.

— ... Are you... are you proud of me?

— Yes.

— ... F-From me...? — Todd tried to think of how to react, but the words just tangled in his throat. The eyes prickled. He left the room before Bruce had a chance to deny what he had said, murmuring just one: — ... until breakfast.

Damian was still looking at the door, hoping that at least one of the three would come back to play with him some more. He didn't want to be there alone, and as much as his father was there with him, all he had to do was remember that the stay in that hospital would make his mind refuse Bruce as some kind of protection as effective as the brothers.

— Damian? — the eldest called him, sitting on the edge of the bed.

— Dad, Jason won't be leaving, will he? If he didn't say goodbye, it's because he won't, right? — He asked to be sure.

— No, he will not go... — Bruce ended up smiling — Is he a good older brother?

— Yes! Dick is too! — The little one smiled and faced the door once more - keeping himself hopeful - but soon he conformed to the lonely reality.

— What about Tim? Did he treat you well?

— He is strange, but he seems to be… smart.

Damian looked at the TV, his father ended up repeating his gesture. And so the two were silent facing the game paused ... Bruce needed to gather a lot of courage for the next question:

— Damian, can you forgive me?

— ... Why? — The little one stared at some point on the floor. He knew the reason for that request, but he wanted to understand what Bruce had done wrong - because he considered himself the one to blame for something, not his father.

— For having kept you in that place against your will; for letting you be afraid; for not noticing anything wrong... — Bruce felt his heart fail every time he spoke one of the reasons, he felt like a monster, like Dr. Garner. He had really neglected that child.

— It was for my good, wasn't it? — Although he already had tears in his eyes just for remembering, Damian wanted to face the whole terrible experience as a "necessary evil".

— It could have been otherwise if I were not so... inconsequential — He repeated the adjective that had been attributed to him so many times — I believed it was the best for you, I ended up handing you over to the care of one...

— Evil doctor?

— Yes — Bruce ended up smiling with those words so "kind" to designate that sick being, which only made it even worse: the weight of guilt increased.

Heavens, Damian was just a child in the hands of a monster...

— When did you discover that he is evil?

— When it was too late... — he whispered, feeling as if a knife went through his chest.

Just an innocent child...

The silence settled again for what seemed like an eternity. Bruce could hear his own heart, broken and agitated, trying to get back to normal... pretending he was fine required too much effort.

— So I will not need to do more tests? — Damian finally broke that stillness, looked at his father with hopeful eyes.

How can he keep that look?

— I promise not — Bruce ruffled his son's hair, forced himself to smile.

The little one only contained all the joy he was feeling when he tried to get up and once again ended up forcing his still sore leg. However, this did not stop him from making a request:

— Can I go and play in the garden? Please?

Bruce assessed him from top to bottom: the pants were still the ones his son wore at the hospital; the top of some pajamas and Jason's jacket covered with crumbs from something they were eating in the bedroom. Apparently, the lack of memory made the little one forget even to brush his teeth: there were still remnants of a string of drool in one corner of his mouth.

— ... After the bath — finally answered.

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NOTE

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IMPORTANT REQUEST: follow me on Facebook (laviniacrist13) or/and instagram ( laviniacrist13). This request has a reason: last week I lost access to one of my accounts and had no way of notifying anyone, I didn't even know if I could post normally or not today. They don't need to enjoy anything, comment on anything or interact with me, because I'm not that active there, it's just for me to have a way to let you know if something like this happens again.

Now about the fanfic: have you noticed how Damian is an adorable little child? Completely different from what he was before, right? Just to remember that he lost his memory and his first memories are of Dick talking to him, Mr. Pennyworth and his father telling him stories to sleep. I'm not trying to give ideas for theories, but, for example: if I forgot everything and then I was left hospitalized with a crazy doctor, I would become something even worse than the Dami from before, kks.

Note of note: the title is because Damian was discharged from the hospital... sorry, I suck at titles! Kks.