When Dick passed out, he didn't exactly expect to wake up where he was. He didn't think he'd pass out at all, but-

Seemed that his PTSD was still around. Sick sighed softly, running his hand through the silky sheets of his hospital bed. He was propped up slightly with pillows, the beeping of the heart monitor beside him. He guessed that he had half-assumed that Bruce would have come for him and Damian, explaining the feeling of slight crushed disappointment. He had almost assumed that he'd wake up in the Bat Cave to Alfred's fussing and Bruce's refusal to leave his side even though he was pretending to be working. He had assumed that he'd have woken up to someone.

Maybe Bruce was busy.

As Dick made to sit up, find some water, Koriand'r walked in. Her eyes lit up and her smile widened. She was excited enough that she began to float, going towards him and reaching out with her hands. Dick smiled and let his own arms extend to allow Kori the hug she had silently asked for. She was wearing a dark purple sweater, one that Dick remembered buying her on one of their shopping trips. She had on a pair of tight dark denim jeans, along with a pair of fluffy black boots that were in style right now. Her hair was left alone,. Cascading down her back in an otherworld appearance. Little did the rest of the population know, she really was an alien from another planet. Dick sighed happily and snuggled into her unnatural warmth.

She made Dick happy. She was full of warmth - a fire that burned forever. When she was angry, her hair and eyes lit up with her fury, when she was content, she expressed love and let out the warmth of a small flame, and when she was protective, that fire could burn. She made him warm, and sometimes her comforting presence was what talked Dick down from a panic attack

"When we were video chatting," she began, pulling away slightly. "You were going to introduce me to your little brother. When I saw him jump out of a window and you threw the device allowing us to video chat," her glare became scathing and all Dick could do was rub the back of his head nervously. "I flew over. I arrived just as paramedics were loading you into the ambulance." she said. Dick nodded, and Kori leaned him back down against the pillows and blankets.

"Thanks, Kori." Dick said as the Tamaranian handed him a plastic cup of water. She smiled in response, but judging by the gentle smile on Dick's own face and the fluttering in his heart, having her there was more than enough to dull the pain. After all, like Goliath, Kori could fly. Dami had Goliath.

Dick had Kori.

Damian knew the doctor, an elderly lady, had been watching him for some time. Knew that Damian had been unconscious when the adrenaline faded in the ambulance. Knew that he had no idea what types of tests had gone on. It would take a heavily trained professional, after all, but it was possible. An ignorant may not even notice the grafted skin patches upon his back. What if she had seen, what if anything had been revealed to her, a lady he didn't know-

"We know." the doctor sighed heavily and Damian fought to keep his breathing steady and his heart rate from accelerating. "Or, at least, I know." he heard the doctor get up, and there was an old, wrinkled hand pushing his bangs away from his face. The touch was gentle. Why?

"And I want you to know that it's okay."

What.

"It's okay. I've read the articles about you - they say that you're Bruce Wayne's biological son from an affair he had in another country. People believe that you're from Saudi Arabia, and then it got confirmed. Foreign mannerisms would help hide your secret."

Damian was torn between anxious confusion and full blown panic. This lady had found out his secret, she knew who he was, she hadn't given him away, but what, what did she think to gain from-

"Our secret."

And his panic stilled.

"It isn't just your secret. I moved to Gotham before there was a ban on the Winged. I wanted to become a doctor. Luckily, a friend had the foresight to tell my family that tensions were running high between the human and the Winged. My parents decided to keep our existence a secret, and when this whole mess blew up, we kept our lives. I'm like you, Damian."

Damian opened his eyes.

"Mockingbird." he murmured.

"Flamingo."

Damian had to stifle a giggle at that, appraising the elderly lady in front of him. She was wearing a bright pink shirt under her doctor's coat which Damian found absolutely hilarious considering the circumstances. Her stethoscope was wrapped loosely around her neck, and she was smiling brightly at him. The nametag on her left side read "Leslie Thompkins".

She couldn't believe there was still a child willing to laugh and smile that she had not helped. He reminded her of her own wards.

"Damian," she spoke, gaining his attention. "My name is Leslie, and I run an orphanage for kids like you. A shelter for people like us." she reached into her pocket and pressed a card into his hand. "Close your eyes." she said, and Damian listened. He trusted her. The Wind was soothing, encouraging their interaction. The card was small, it fit within Damian's hand. He closed his palm around it when Leslie closed it for him, holding his hand between both of her's. "The address is unlocked by what fills the space between feathers." she murmured. The wind swirled around in amusement at the nickname while both Winged smiled in response. Leslie seemed a lot like Pennyworth, Damian realized. With long grey hair pulled into a bun with a few strands of hair escaping and framing her face. She had on thin gasses, and the wrinkles on her face were from smiling and simply age. He nodded, picturing the orphanage. There would be Winged children there. Maybe some his age.

"I have a warning." Leslie's voice shook, and Daian tried to open his eyes to ask her why, what was going on. "No, don't." she said, placing her hand gently on his eyes, keeping his eyelids shut. Her hands were shaking, too.

"A storm is coming to Gotham. The wind is only fragmented around the world, complacent and not conscious enough to truly stir. But she has seen the suffering in Gotham." Damian's breath caught at Leslie's words. "She is furious with the city. We have only three options; run from the storm and abandon the city and it's people to it's face, stay and try to dissuade her by shoving her the good here, or stay silent and in Gotham and pray we do not get caught up in it. A storm is coming to Gotham, Damian. We have only one chance to change it. Do whatever you feel is best. We will not judge. All I ask of you is to come by the orphanage. It'll be good for you. We have food and tricks for hiding in plain sight. Some of our volunteers - and some of them are human, they know and are helping us - they have created different powders and shakes that will supply you with the food and nutrients you need. We can help you, Damian. Whenever you have the time… come see us. We'd love to have you here with us." Damian could almost feel Leslie's smile as she said this, her hand stilling. He nodded, the gentle pressure on his eyes providing a sort of comfort. He heard footsteps down the hallway and Leslie pulled away.

"Is he awake?" it was his father. "Dick is asking for his condition."

"He's fine. There's a slight bruising on his neck, but no internal damage. He's had a bit of smoke damage through his lungs, but nothing severe. No exertion for a few days, and I would suggest that you keep an oxygen mask or inhaler by at all times. Very little damage considering how dangerous that situation was. Your son is a hero." Leslie said. He heard her shuffle some papers around. "I'll need you to sign these papers please, Mr. Wayne. As an extra caution, your son may be called on by the police to give testimony."

"Alright." he heard Bruce sigh, taking the papers and signing them. Damian looked asleep - actually asleep. Not half alert and waiting to be attacked. He looked like he felt safe, his eyebrows relaxed and his lips in a soft smile, like he was having a good dream. The sheets were tucked around his waist, the light colour bringing out the darkened colour of his skin even more. His lack of a frown made his cheeks look wider, almost like a little baby.

But Damian was a baby. A little kid.

Who held about as much darkness as Bruce himself, and looked so much like Talia that it was terrifying…

"Is everything alright, Mr. Wayne?" the doctor interrupted, and Bruce looked over at her before handing over the papers.

"Yes." Bruce sighed. "When he wakes up, are we able to take him home?"

"You are, Mr. Wayne." the doctor made to leave, but paused, looking back at him. "Just… give him a chance, Mr. Wayne." she said, giving him an all-knowing look reminiscent of Alfred. "You may not be a fool at all, but playing the fool is a dangerous game." with that, she left the room.

Bruce watched her go, an eyebrow raised. What exactly had she meant, about him playing the fool? What was she referring to? What did this have to do with Damian? Bruce sighed heavily again, looking over at his son. Truthfully, he didn't know what to think of Damian. In Bruce's opinion, Damian was the true middle ground between the house of the Bat and the Demon's Head, between Wayne and al Ghul. Whether Damian realized it or not… he had Bruce's eyes, but Talia reigned in Damian's face. He had her high cheekbones, her chin, her ears, and her darkened, browned skin. But his eye shape mimicked Bruce's mother's, giving him a gentle and considerate look, that was completely ruined when he frowned. Damian's mouth and now he made expressions… that was all foreign to Bruce. Perhaps the traits that once belonged to Ra's wife. Girlfriend. Mistress. Lover. Whatever. Damian acted like an al Ghul. Full of pride and arrogance.

Raised to rule the world.

Bruce knew that with some years, Damian probably could.

Bruce saw Talia in Damian. And if he was honest, that scared him.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. This child was potentially very dangerous. He couldn't let that go. Bruce turned on his heel and left the room. He should go check on Dick before the alien decided to grab him and cart him off to who-knows-where

Bruce paused in the doorway.

"Damian, I'll hunt down the Winged that did this. That's a promise.

From behind him, the Wind spun, ripping through the curtains and sending the papers everywhere.

She would make sure Bruce never made good on that promise.

Her consciousness was stirring.