It's a pretty quiet week at Wayne Manor. Well...considering that the locals have nightly Superhero activities.
Bruce Wayne has the luxury of being a busy businessman. It is normal that we do not see him outside of certain private events. No one could connect this absence to Batman's activities of the day.
Dick works with the police. He mainly spends his day completing paperwork and is occasionally out in the field. He kept complaining that the shows had removed all the information about the horrible amount of administrative paperwork. Richard certainly isn't tied to Nightwing's patrols in his teammates' heads.
But unfortunately the other Wayne children have no excuse to be able to hide their secret activity. It would have been too suspicious for them to leave class for a case.
Bruce could have homeschooled them, but he insisted that they live as normal a life as possible.
Damian thinks his father is an idiot. They had already been through too much for Father to still insist on doing "normal" things.
The living room was quiet. Light sound of birds at the window. No sign of Alfred. Damian likes the calm silence that surrounds him.
The boy sighs as he sees the papers and homework in front of him. Some of his homework consists of things he can do most of the time with his eyes closed. He even makes a few small mistakes to make sure he doesn't arouse the suspicions of his teachers.
It was perhaps normal that the son of Bruce Wayne, a billionaire capable of paying for all the specialist teachers he wanted, was also a genius.
But Damian hadn't survived the first twelve years of his life among the assassins by being anything other than paranoid.
The young Superhero had finished his homework some time ago. The noise of the pencil garage has dominated the silence of the living room for several minutes.
Damian hadn't really had the opportunity to develop his artistic talents during his time in the League. He doesn't even want to imagine his grandfather's reaction if he had seen his grandson doing something as useless for his education as drawing.
He had been able to appreciate art on rare occasions. The architecture of Nanda Parbat or those of their former base in the heart of the desert, even if not much has been preserved. And the rare occasions when he was entrusted to his caregivers who saw no problem in letting him draw.
One of his female nurses had given him an old kohl, due to lack of pencil at the time.
Damian, despite Alfred's encouragement and his father's more awkward encouragement, young Wayne is still not comfortable talking about his activity with other members of his family. Or to practice elsewhere than in private moments.
(This has nothing to do with the opinion his idiot brothers and sisters might have!)
As he sharpens his pencil and continues to scratch the paper, his thoughts wander. He couldn't help it when he drew.
The Justice League therapist his father encouraged them to see from time to time had said it was a good thing.
He wonders if his mother would have encouraged his little artistic practice...
Maybe. Talia had always loved confronting her own father. Whether by encouraging your child to draw or taking them to see villages lost in the middle of the desert. She wanted him to know as much of his roots as possible before joining his father.
The 13-year-old boy continues to reminisce about his old life when he hears a very irritating voice.
- "Hey, demon boy! What are you planning?" Said Jason who has just entered the room followed by Alfred.
- "Master Jason please." Said Alfred.
Red Hood just looks over Damian's shoulder to see the drawing.
-"Hey, that looks pretty good."
Damien frowned.
- "If you say so." He will never admit that he likes being better than him.
He tries to hide the drawing in his notebooks. Jason notices this and takes the drawing.
- "Hey, give it back!"
- "Come and get him dwarf."
The older one used his size to push the younger one away.
While the little demon tries to bite him (seriously?). He looks at the drawing which was honestly well done.
Until Alfred took it from his hands (how did it appear behind him?!).
- "Master Jason, Damian please." The butler just said calmly.
The two brothers sit down. Damian glares murderously at Jason. The old man looks at the drawing before raising an eyebrow.
- "It's good to see that you express such artistic fiber Damian. An old acquaintance of yours?" He said, returning the portrait to Damian.
Jason looks at Damian curiously. The little demon seemed calmer and a little distant.
- "He is...a child from a family of Grandfather's servants."
-"Servant? Reassure me, are we talking about a servant like Alfred?"
Damian just glared at him.
-"The League of Assassins also needs maintenance you know? It's usually people from the surrounding villages who are employed for tasks like that." Explains Bruce's son.
- "It's true that I have a hard time imagining Ra's Al Gul passing the broom in his free time."
Damian shrugs. Jason is also embarrassed slightly. He doesn't know how to ask Damian more. He hadn't thought about the fact that he had some heritage that wasn't American. After all he didn't have any accent (I guess Ra's Al Gul didn't allow that) and his skin was quite pale.
He didn't even try to broach the subject. Dick was probably better placed for this kind of discussion.
-"Honestly when I arrived I didn't understand how father could only have one servant." Damian just continued.
Alfred gives him an unimpressed look. No doubt he could manage any area alone.
-"I spent some time with him as a child..."
Jason looks at the gray pencil drawing again. The little demon really had talent. He had drawn a young man. With young and very elegant face. Dark eyes (he can't guess the color because of the gray pencil) and a sort of scarf around his neck, wind moves the scarf and his short hair. A smile on his face.
-"Damian did you know what happened to him?" Asks Alfred.
-"He must probably still be at Nanda Parbat." Just answer Damian.