Damian had become weak. He hated sleeping alone now. I blame Grayson…He thought bitterly as he lay in the dark. Before, he'd never known nor needed such a pathetic thing as comfort, but oh now that he knew of it-how he'd become accustomed to it. Weakness…he thought with disgust, clenching his fingers in his blankets and refusing to go find comfort as he had been for the past few nights. Breathe, meditate, clear your mind… He took a deep breath, holding it and releasing in practiced rhythm. It did little to ease his anxious spirit.
Damn it. Damian let out a little growl, rolling to his side and wrapping his arms around Titus. The dog licked his face lazily, going back to snoring almost instantly. The warmth of his companion helped, but Damian still felt…alone.
When did being alone become such a terrible thing? Damian wondered. He used to thrive when alone, he'd been sharpened like a blade with solitude when he was trained. And yet now? He desired warmth that was not his own, kind senseless words, and all such 'family' things as Grayson put it. He wanted his father, the pillar of the family's strength, wanted the security that the man naturally gave. Security that Damian should not dare crave, even if he didn't need it.
This is not clearing your mind. Damian scolded himself, biting his lip as the thoughts continued to pull at him. He remembered what it was like before having a family, remembered not needing anything, and still he considered that now, with all his weakness, better. And wasn't that just ridiculous?!
He sighed. He remembered first meeting Father. How he spat out unimpressed words so easily despite them being total lies. He still gave himself props for such a magnificent performance in deception, and how he easily established that he was not a child before such a great man. 'I thought you'd be taller'. Simple words really. Though Damian's thoughts had stuttered just a little in awe. Batman, the man that his grandfather praised and his mother deemed worthy enough to procreate with, was the embodiment of a warrior (even though unconventional). All broad shoulders and grand physique that Damian did hope carried in his blood, plus a calm analytical mind that pieced together the unfathomable, and the easy power he gave off with just his presence.
He often wondered what Batman had thought of him in that moment as well. Pleased that he had produced such a fine heir? Unhappy that Damian was still small and not the most effective soldier yet? Maybe it was just surprise. Huh, Batman surprised? Damian must have fallen back asleep, because such a silly thought wouldn't have occurred to his conscious mind. That Batman was actually just surprised when he first met Damian, that he was unsure of how to treat a soldier that would now be under his hand. Wait, not a soldier, a child, his child. He hadn't known what this child would be like, who this child was, and how he could make this child happy. But he was going to try his damnedest to take Damian in and make him happy because Damian was his. Huh.
Damian remembered too, when Bruce first saw the boy's abilities. He had thought that perhaps Bruce was unimpressed because Bruce had seen many fighters, or just observed and assessed with no real feeling. However, was Father actually amazed by his potential and secretly pleased that his son was already so good? Of course, I am the Batman's son.
The baby bat could recall the moment when he realized that he was not a mere soldier to his father and that there would be much more to their relationship; that Damian would actually seek praise and feel badly when scolded. They were family. Horrifying. Damian remembered the anxiety when he realized that as well, that he was expected to fit in, he didn't know how to fit in, how to be one of the family. And how when he was just getting a glimmer of understanding- Bruce was taken away, lost in time, and beyond Damian's reach; irony, that finally Damian had gotten accustomed to the idea of it all, and Bruce was gone.
He was just grateful that Dick had stuck around so he didn't falter so badly. What was it was like to have a brother, a familial brother, not one in-arms, was still something that Damian was stupefied by. Someone who protected you when you didn't require it, teased and tumbled with you despite the risk of injury or rather in spite of that, and was always there when you actually did need them- such dedication was beyond Damian. Or had been, Damian liked to think that he was better at this brother thing now, that his unyielding loyalty to his family was clear to them.
And that he was better at the son thing too, that he had his father's trust the same way that Dick and Tim did (even Jason was relied upon without question in some cases). It was always present in his mind that the other boys had been chosen, where as Damian had just been handed off by his mother. Even the girls knew Father in a way that Damian didn't. He was just getting there! He had finally breached Batman's emotional walls, was finally starting to understand the Batman twitches ™ (as Cass and Tim dubbed them) and what they meant, starting to see much more of the Dad smile ™ (Dick and Jason's naming). He wanted his father back, he wanted the time to be where all the others were when it came to knowing Bruce. He couldn't keep doing this, losing Batman or being lost himself, unsure of where exactly he stood within his father's heart simply because he didn't have the time to piece it all together.
Damian sat up, waking to the taste of blood in his mouth and tears in his eyes. He forced his teeth to release his bottom lip, feeling the deep groove he'd made in his lip with his tongue. He scrubbed at his face, sucking on his lip, and mulling over his weakness even more. How am I supposed to sleep at this rate?! He knew sleep was a necessity to being useful. He shook his head, wasn't going to happen tonight.
He got out of the bed, rolling out stiffened muscles and joints. He stood in the dark, idly listening to Titus sleep and wondering if anyone else was up-no one in this household slept very well so chances were high that he'd run into someone if he left his room.
He shrugged, making his choice, not like just standing in his room was going to help anything at all. He wandered out into the hallway and down to the kitchen. Both surprised to find the kitchen light on, and not because it was Tim.
"Hey." Tim murmured in acknowledgement, picking at what appeared to be toast, or maybe crackers, Damian couldn't be sure and honestly he didn't care.
He didn't even have it in him to lecture Tim about his inferiority- less sleep was sure to make Tim even worse than usual. All he could do was offer a, "Hey." back in echo, as he took a seat at the bar beside his brother.
They sat in silence, Tim crushing the food on his plate. He was the first to glance over at Damian, "…want a cookie?" He offered a crumbly piece of apparently a cookie.
Damian knew he probably should've snipped at Tim, offering me leftover crumbs?! But he still didn't have the heart to snap right now, "…sure." He took the piece and stuffed it in his mouth before laying his head down on the bar.
"…you okay?" Tim questioned quietly. Damian turned his head to face Tim, unable to think of exactly what answer he should give.
"He's coming back, right?" Damian blurted before he could stop himself. And yet, some part of him was glad he was blurting it to Tim, because while he and Tim bickered non-stop, he knew Tim would be honest; not like Dick, who would be as optimistic as possible, or Jason who would get as grim as possible or start something so he didn't have to answer.
Tim was silent, putting his head down next to Damian's and meeting his eyes, Tim's soft blue to Damian's green. "I don't know." He finally answered, voice cold but true. Damian could hear the hurt, shocking himself that he could actually detect that emotion so easily, but it was probably because he was feeling exactly the same. "What do you think?"
Damian grit his teeth, the little question making choke pathetically. He tried, tried so hard to push it down, push it back down, go numb, but he couldn't. Oh no. He let out a muted cry, tears clouding out the sight of soft blue.
"Baby bat…" Tim murmured sympathetically, wrapping an arm around his youngest brother and pulling Damian close. He didn't give any more words, just held Damian at his side. What disgrace, even Drake is acceptable comfort now! But it helped.
Please let it be over. Batman thought, unsure if it was to the voice or to the situation in general. Even his youngest had cracked. His baby. The baby rather. The baby of the family. Awkward and learning, but the one who manages to bring out something more from each of them; Dick's mothering side, Jason's playfulness, Tim's patience, Stephanie's carefree side, Cass' understanding, Barbara's humor, Alfred's stern kindness, and Bruce's love. Love for his baby, and his kids, and his family. It all seems complete when they're all together as one to shelter Damian and be a home for him.
Bruce suddenly felt a blinding pain that made his soul scream.
"Finally your soul is all back together." And finally a face to match the voice too. "Let's get you back to your body."