"You wanted to see me, Dad?" asked Damian Wayne, knocking on the door to his father's study and popping his head in.
"Yes, come in, Damian," said Bruce, turning away from the portrait of his parents to face his son. "I have an early Christmas present for you."
"Oh…yeah?" asked Damian, skeptically. "Is it Batman socks again?"
"No, it's something better than that," replied Bruce. "Tim's decided that he wants to spend Christmas with Dick in Blüdhaven – I guess that little bust-up Dick and I had over Thanksgiving made Dick pressure him into choosing sides. Tim says he thought I would understand more than Dick would, and of course I do. Family is complicated, after all, and Dick always was a hothead. Tim says staying with him might be a good way to cool him down and repair our relationship. Anyway, with Tim off in college now, and not coming home for breaks this time, I think it's time I trained a new Robin."
He reached into a trunk and held out an outfit to Damian. "We can start training you now so that when your Christmas break rolls around, we'll be ready to go out on missions together in Gotham. What do you say?"
Damian said nothing, slowly taking the outfit from his father. "Yeah, that's…uh…" he stammered at last. "That's…good, I guess."
"Good, I guess?" repeated Bruce, frowning. "I was expecting you to be a lot more excited than that. This is every kid's dream, to help out Batman. Ask any kid in Gotham. It's the first step on the road to becoming Batman someday," he added, kneeling down next to him and putting his hand on his shoulder. "I'm passing the mantle on to you, son. After Tim has his turn, of course. I just hope I'll live to see it, my own flesh and blood carrying on my legacy. I'll be so proud of you, Damian."
"Thanks, Dad," murmured Damian, avoiding his gaze. He cleared his throat. "Well, I…got some homework to do, so…"
"Of course," said Bruce, straightening up. "We'll start your training after dinner. Let me know if you need any help with the homework. I'm not a bad hand at intellectual work, you know."
"Yeah…I know," said Damian slowly. "You're the World's Greatest Detective. Just blind to the obvious," he muttered under his breath, as he left the study.
Instead of heading to his room, Damian headed for the kitchen, where Alfred was preparing dinner. "Master Damian, to what do I owe the honor?" he asked, turning and smiling at him.
"I just needed to talk to someone," said Damian, taking a seat and looking down at the costume in his hands. "Dad's asked me to start being his Robin."
"Well, that's wonderful news," said Alfred, returning his attention to stirring the sauce on the stove. "Quite an honor."
"Yeah…it is," said Damian, slowly. "It really is, I mean, Dad's right – it's every kid's dream to be Batman's sidekick. Only…it's not my dream. I'm not sure…I wanna be Robin, or Batman, for that matter."
Alfred turned back to him. "Have you told your father this?" he asked.
"I can't talk to him, Alfred, you know that," said Damian. "Nobody can talk to him. He doesn't listen to anyone, and he doesn't understand anything except what he knows to be true. And he just looked so happy, so proud when he handed me the Robin costume…I couldn't disappoint him like that."
"Your father is proud of you, Master Damian," said Alfred, firmly. "No matter what you do. He's your father, and he'll always be proud of you."
"Not if I tell him the truth," retorted Damian. "Not if I told him I don't buy into his whole justice crusade, or that I think he's just wasted his life trying to be a hero. He'd say I'm just a kid, and that I don't understand, and maybe I don't…maybe I'm too selfish...I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm sure Batman has done a lot of good for people. But it's come at an enormous cost to himself – his adopted kids might respect him, but they don't seem to get along with him at all, and now they're both staying away for Christmas. He hasn't found anyone to share his life with, at least, not out of choice, and he lives alone in this huge house with just me and you…and of course you're great, Alfred, but you're his family – you kinda have to put up with him, just like I do. But nobody's chosen to be with him long-term because he's so difficult to live with. I just don't want my own life to turn out like his – people staying with me out of obligation and a sense of duty, and not because they genuinely care about me. I mean, I love him, of course, just like you do. But that's because I have to. I'm not sure I would choose to if I had a choice. I know that's a horrible thing to say, but I'm not sure he'd choose to love me either if I hadn't been forced upon him. It's like you said, Alfred – he's my father, so he has to be proud of me whatever I do. It's an obligation, not a choice. I guess it's just hard to feel like an obligation sometimes. And that's what Robin feels like to me – an obligation that was forced upon me, that I didn't ask for and don't want. But I can't tell him that. Because if I told him that, I'd have to tell him everything else, and that would break his heart. I can't do that to him. But I also can't live a lie, trapped doing something I don't want to do for the rest of my life. So I don't know what to do. Can you help me?"
Alfred said nothing, turning down the burner and coming over to sit down next to Damian. "I've known Master Bruce longer than anyone," he said. "And I like to think I know him better than anyone too. You're right, he is difficult to live with. Stubborn, hard-nosed, self-righteous. He doesn't listen to anything anyone might say to contradict his beliefs. But that's because he's afraid, Master Damian. He's afraid of everything you just said – he's afraid of doubting himself, of realizing that he might have wasted his life. He hasn't, of course. He has done an incredible amount of good for this city and its people. He is a true hero. But the problem with heroism is that it always has to seek out monsters to slay, and villains to battle. There's no such thing as a hero in retirement," he added with a wry smile. "They always have to make a noble end, fighting to the last, and dying in a heroic way. And Master Bruce knows this. So he carries on as he always has, and in his defense, in a city such as Gotham, he always does have numerous monsters to fight. But he's afraid that if he didn't, he'd have nothing left. He's afraid that if he stopped being Batman now, if he stopped this whole crusade, that he'd lose his purpose, and he'd be forced to confront how alone he really is. Master Bruce has always been good at dealing with the darkness that manifests in others, outside himself. But within…well, ever since his parents' murders, he's just run from it. He channeled it into fighting for righteousness, he trained to use it as a force of light. But he has never confronted it, because he's afraid that would break him. That he would be overwhelmed with pain when he realizes what he's truly lost. The pain won't kill him – he's Batman, and no pain can. But if any pain could come close, it's going to come from within, not from some supervillain."
Alfred placed a hand on his shoulder. "When I was left in charge of Master Bruce, I was terrified too. I never wanted a child, and suddenly I was responsible for one who had undergone an unfathomable trauma, and was in incredible pain. I didn't know what to do – there are no parenting books for the situation of former SAS officer and family butler suddenly taking on both parenting roles for a suffering child who has witnessed its parents' murders," he added with a wry smile. "I tried everything, but nothing I could do induced Master Bruce to take any interest in life again. He would just sit in the dark in his room, depressed and alone, and I didn't see any way of snapping him out of it. Then one day, I found him in the garage – he had discovered my old exercise equipment from my army days. He had set up the punching bag, and was unleashing hell upon it. I was so pleased to see him engaging in anything that I encouraged the training. The physical exercise seemed to help, seemed to take him outside himself, so I did everything I could to support that. Perhaps I was wrong, looking back. But you can't always see your mistakes at the time, and it was just so good to see Master Bruce take an interest in anything again."
Alfred stood up, heading back over to stir the sauce. "He went off around the world to train, and when he came back, he announced this whole Batman idea. It didn't seem healthy to me, and I tried to talk him out of it, but his mind was made up, and even back then, he was incredibly stubborn. So I just kept supporting him, because there was nothing else I could do. And because I thought if I ever did manage to make him question himself, he might break down, and become that poor, traumatized child sitting alone in a dark room again. Anything was better than that, even this bizarre idea of crime-fighting in a costume. And to his credit, it did seem to be helping not only him, but many other innocent people. It wasn't the usual method of doing that, but if it worked, who was I to argue?"
He turned back to Damian. "All of this to say that I understand your dilemma, Master Damian. It's been a dilemma that's plagued me for years, and still does. I was content to take a backseat to Master Bruce, because that's what a good servant does. I was happy to give up my life to help him, because that's my job. But it's not your job as his son to do that. But the only way you can help yourself, and him, is by breaking his heart, and that's a difficult thing to ask anyone who loves him to do. I would perhaps counsel you just to try being Robin and see how it goes – you might well change your mind about it. But if you don't…don't wait until it's too late to confront him about it. Or you'll find yourself just going along with something you don't really believe in while your life passes you by. And that's been fine for me, but it's not for you. You're young, and you have your whole life ahead of you. It's up to you how you spend it, not your father. You must tell him that before it's too late. But maybe not at Christmas," he added, with another wry smile. "It was bad enough at Thanksgiving with Master Dick and Master Bruce tearing in to each other. I don't want to set the precedent of every holiday ending in a fight."
Damian nodded. "You're right, Alfred," he said. "I'll…give Robin a try. Maybe I'll change my mind. It's gonna be awkward with the flour baby project though – I can't take little Ra's crime-fighting on the streets of Gotham."
"His namesake would be fairly keen," replied Alfred, dryly. "But only if you were murdering the criminals you fought. Not to speak ill of your grandfather, Master Damian – I'm sure he has many fine qualities."
"I wish I had your ability to sound both sincere and sarcastic at the same time," said Damian, grinning at him.
"You'd have to be English, sir," replied Alfred. "It's a national trait."
Damian smiled again, and hugged Alfred. "Thanks for the talk, Alfred," he said.
"My pleasure, sir – at least one member of the Wayne family prefers conversation over fisticuffs," replied Alfred. "But I daresay I could still best your father at both."
"I won't tell him you said that," replied Damian with a grin. "It's a bad idea to challenge Batman, as Leenie and J.J.'s dad knows..."
He trailed off suddenly, realizing what he had almost blurted out. "Ah yes, your friends from school," said Alfred. "Who is their father? Someone who crossed Batman once and learned his lesson, no doubt?"
"Uh…yeah," said Damian, slowly. "Yeah…he did. Anyway, I got some homework to do before dinner – I'll see you later, Alfred," he said, heading back to his room and letting out a sigh of relief. As much as he loved and respected Alfred, he hadn't told anyone that his best friends from school were the Joker's children. Damian had a feeling that even Alfred might not be understanding about that.