A/N: I'm sorry this took so long. I've been kind of busy lately. And if any of you are doing NaNoWriMo this month... You know how busy I'm going to be in the coming weeks.
So this is prompt #4, I believe: Damian and Bruce have their first real talk since Bruce came back from the dead. It's kind of short and I took it more as an opportunity to dissect their relationship than anything else (I'm really into psychology), but I hope you enjoy.
The cool, cobalt blue eyes belonging to Bruce Wayne alternate between absent-mindedly scanning the newspaper in his hands and casting surreptitious glances over at his 10 year-old son sitting on the couch across from him and pretending to be absorbed in his iPod.
Damian Wayne is almost an exact replica of his father; the same coal black hair, the same deep blue eyes, and the same quiet intensity that seems to radiate off him in waves. But in so many ways, he's the exact opposite. Damian is reckless, hostile, arrogant, and largely unapproachable.
At least, unapproachable to Bruce.
He doesn't even know where to begin when it comes to talking to his son. The two have been on shaky ground since Bruce popped back into his life from the 'dead'. He doesn't even remember the two actually having a real conversation since he came back – at least not one that doesn't consist of a mumbled 'good morning' and mundane attempts at small talk that always seem to fall flat and feel awkward. The two have never really talked.
Not like Damian and Dick talk.
Bruce shakes off the sudden and intense feeling of jealousy he gets from that thought. He's being ridiculous, he knows. But that doesn't stop him from secretly envying Dick and Damian's strong bond. Dick makes it look so easy. He's such a natural at getting the angry little boy to open up and drop his defenses. Bruce's weak attempts at bonding only put him further on edge.
He's a stranger to his own son.
And if he's being completely honest here, his own son is a stranger to him too.
Setting the paper down beside him, Bruce looks straight at Damian, who's still putting up the act of being too busy with his iPod to notice his father's gaze. Bruce has had about enough with dancing around. He prefers a direct approach.
"Damian?" he asks, trying to mask the hesitation in his tone.
Damian immediately looks up from his iPod, tugging the earbuds out of his ears and shoving them in the pocket of his hoodie with some irritation.
"Yes?" he responds, his voice and expression void of all emotion.
For once in his life, Bruce has no idea what he's doing or what he's trying to accomplish. He didn't speak with the intention of taking this conversation anywhere, at least not really. He just spoke to break the tense, non-verbal standoff between the two. He's making this all up as he goes along.
What a sight to see; the great and powerful Batman is without a plan.
"How was your day?" Bruce asks, his tone strained. He hopes that his son doesn't pick up on it, which is nearly impossible with how observant the boy is. He doesn't want to make things even tenser between the two of them, if that's even possible.
Damian tilts his head curiously, as if he thinks he must have heard wrong.
"Fine… Why do you ask?"
The question catches Bruce off guard. Why did he ask?
"I have to have a reason for asking my son how his day is going?" he replies a tad bit defensively. Damian maintains a suspicious, guarded expression, narrowing his eyes at his father.
"-Tt-. You've never asked before," Damian points out. "I see no reason for you to start now, unless you have some sort of ulterior motive. So out with it. I don't do well with dancing around."
He really is his father's son.
Bruce internally groans, wondering why he even bothered in the first place. He should have expected this combative response. This is the most he's talked to Damian in… well, ever. And Damian doesn't trust easily. Bruce knows he didn't exactly help that by leaving Damian's life after barely getting to know him. Trying to engage him in conversation was a futile effort.
But still, he doesn't give up on his stubborn son easily.
"Fine," he admits. "I do have a motive. I was thinking that maybe… You and I…"
He swallows hard. Why is this so difficult? He's stared down opponents twice his size, yet it's a ten year old boy who brings him to his knees.
"Maybe we could… spend the day together. Just you and me."
At this, the stubborn black haired boy raises his eyebrows like Bruce has just made a joke that fell flat. He does not look the least bit impressed with his father's attempts, leaving Bruce to wonder what it is he did wrong.
"Doing what?" he asks. Again, his tone is causal. Bored. Like he'd rather be doing anything besides talking to his father. It stings Bruce a little more than he'd like to admit. He didn't expect Damian to look thrilled at talking to him, but anything would be better than this.
"I don't know. What do you and Dick do when you two spend time together?"
Bruce knows he said the wrong thing when Damian tenses up, as if he's just been insulted.
"Don't do that," Damian hisses. Bruce is taken aback by the malice in Damian's tone. It's practically dripping from his words, and Bruce has no idea what brought it on. Damian is usually unpredictable this way.
"Do what?" he asks, now genuinely curious.
"I know what you're trying to do," Damian replies in an accusatory tone. "Don't spend time with me just to feed your petty desire to one-up Grayson for the position of my favorite. I'm not some trophy to be won."
Bruce frowns deeply at the accusation. He may be a bit envious of Dick and Damian's close relationship, but he'd never do that.
At least, he doesn't think that's what he's doing.
"I'm not trying to 'one-up' him, Damian," Bruce reassures. "I'm secure enough to know that I am your father and I do not have competition in that role."
Damian snorts and rolls his eyes, giving Bruce the same bored and unimpressed expression that makes him want to throttle the boy. He absolutely can't stand that look.
"Oh really? Because from what I've been informed, a 'father' is a man who raises you, and I could have sworn that Grayson was the one who took that role upon himself."
That comment makes something ache deep inside Bruce's chest, like someone took a knife to his chest and twisted it. The worst part about it? He can't refute that claim. It's completely true. Dick took it upon himself to raise Damian when Bruce 'died'. It's been Dick as Damian's caregiver more often than not, while Bruce has dropped in and out of his life. Damian's dig is spot on.
The truth hurts.
"I never meant for any of this to happen…" Bruce begins, unsure of how to respond to the scathing insult.
"Well, it did," Damian interrupts. "And you're not allowed to just…"
He trails off and shakes his head, as if it isn't even worth it. But Bruce's curiosity is peaked, and even though he's sure he's going to be insulted again, he wants to know what Damian was going to say. He wants to know what his son really thinks of him.
"I'm not allowed to do what?"
And oh, was that the wrong thing to say.
It's like his words flip a switch in Damian, igniting a fury behind his eyes, the proportions of which Bruce has never seen before. His tone is biting and acidic as he spits out,
"You're not allowed to drop into my life, make me care about you, and then leave at your leisure. It's not right. It's not fair."
For a long second, Bruce remains completely silent, letting the words sink in and ring around in his head. Damian let his age show in his last sentence, sounding more like the sad little ten year old he's supposed to be than the jaded child he is. Guilt overcomes him, shaking him to his core as he berates himself over his many shortcomings when it comes to the boy.
Damian had already been abandoned by his mother to live in a world he hardly understood or fit into, and then to make matters worse, Bruce left him without a father as well, leaving it up to Dick to raise a now practically orphaned Damian. Bruce left emotional destruction for the little boy in his wake. What kind of father has he been to his son?
Not one at all, as Damian has so kindly pointed out.
"I'm sorry," Bruce tells him sincerely, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It isn't fair to you. I haven't been much of a father to you at all. I promise that I'll try harder to communicate."
Damian stares at him for what feels to be hours, that same frustratingly unreadable expression sweeping over his face, like he's considering whether or not to accept Bruce's apology. The two sit in suffocating silence for a few more moments before Damian finally decides to end their standoff.
"I suppose it's not entirely your fault…" he admits. Bruce resists the urge to snort. Damian sounds almost pained to admit that he shares some of the blame for their strained relationship. He hates admitting any fault. Bruce can relate. Like father, like son.
"Can we agree to meet somewhere in the middle?" Bruce asks. It's not perfect, but it's something. And that's good enough for him.
Damian nods curtly, sinking further into the couch with his arms crossed. It's comical, seeing his little body snuggly sunk into the fluffy couch. He's trying so hard to be an adult about this, even though his age has only just hit double digits. Bruce can't remember a time when Damian has ever acted like a kid. It's saddening, really. That chance was stolen from him, and Bruce wants to give it back to him. But that's hard to do when the two never spend any time together.
"So…" Damian speaks up, breaking Bruce out of his thoughts. He looks up at his father hesitantly, playing with his hands, like he's too embarrassed to look into his eyes.
"Is it too late to accept your offer of spending the day together?"
Bruce cracks a smile.
"It's never too late."
A/N: This took me forever solely based on the fact that I didn't touch it for weeks. Oops!
Anyways, I'll try to get the next chapter up faster. :)