Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Damian wasn’t sure how the subject had even come up, but it seemed like there was no going back now. 

“It’s gonna be so much fun, Damian! We’ll get to hang out for a whole month.” Jon beamed as he sat on Damian’s bed, letting him pack in relative peace. Summer camp. That was the brilliant idea his father had come up with after having dinner with the Kents last week. His father had been unfortunately observant over the past few weeks and it seemed he had picked up on Damian’s mood. A miracle really, considering his father was quite terrible at reading any emotional situation. Almost as bad as Damian himself. 

Even though it had been a while settling in with Bruce after having lived with Grayson was hard, to say the least. Drake moving out and Todd traveling with the outlaws left Damian being the only Robin in Gotham. Not that he needed them to help or anything, but their absence was…noted. Going from having people constantly worrying about him, then Grayson, then his Father, and now no one, was a bigger change than he had anticipated and it began to show in unsatisfactory ways. 

His outburst last week was likely the main culprit. 

He didn’t mean to act out of turn, but he couldn’t explain what was going through his head. The school had asked for him to participate in an art gallery. It sounded absolutely dreadful. Unfortunately, Alfred had found the flyer and asked the school about it before Damian had a chance to intervene. He agreed on the sole condition that someone from the family, even Drake for all he cared, didn’t leave him to fend for himself. 

Every single one of them forgot. 

Well, Alfred broke down on the way, but the rest of them had no excuses, and Damian hadn’t exactly coped well. That many people, all talking about how his father was absent and his brothers weren’t around anymore was unsettling. The result was the rough tearing of his sketches off the wall as he found a quiet classroom to wait for his ride home. No one would have really noticed much if he hadn’t given up and walked home with the torn sketches in his backpack. It didn’t take long for his father to find them after that. 

“You and I have very different definitions of fun” Damian muttered shoving a large hoodie on top of everything else. Beyond the fact that hanging out with a bunch of civilian children sounded like literal hell, he also would have to be away from all of his pets for nearly a month. Alfred had promised he would take care of them. To which Damian huffed that obviously, he didn’t keep his promises…it was a very silent dinner for one that night. 

“Our dads picked a really fun camp. It’s all about wildlife and animals and hiking! You like all of those things. Plus there’s lots of free time so you can practice your art stuff too.” Jon explained and Damian nodded. He’d have to remember to put that in his backpack. 

“I have better things to do with my summer” He argued zipping his suitcase stuff before searching his desk for the materials he would need. For a moment he wished Jon wasn’t in the room so that he could grab his favorite dagger. He’d have to settle for the hidden in his jacket for now. 

“Like what? Train forever?” Jon mocked, completely unafraid of his best friend’s glare. “Come on Damian! We only get to have so many summer camps before you’re an old man” Damian couldn’t help it when he shoved the super brat for that remark. He had it coming. 

“You are still such a child” He scoffed, pulling his now-packed backpack on his shoulders. Jon rushed to hold his suitcase before he had a chance. 

“So are you” Jon smiled leading him out of his bedroom and towards the commotion downstairs. It seemed while his siblings had been absent for weeks, the moment he leaves it suddenly is a bigger deal that they won’t be around him. Drake, Grayson, Todd, and Gordon had come to see him off for his ride to camp with the Kents. 

“Damian!” Grayson greeted rushing to the stairs to lift him into a hug. As much as he fought he had his way for a few minutes, oblivious to Jon’s laughter at their enthusiasm. Deep down he relished the warmth that came from the bone-crushing hugs his brothers gave. Especially after having not had one in so long. “I missed you” he added letting Damian’s feet hit the manor lobby again. 

“Then you should come more often” he forced knowing it would make Grayson’s smile dip just a bit. Even if he was glad to see him, that didn’t mean he wasn’t still upset. 

“Ah, sorry bout that Kiddo.” the apology was awkward and stiff, much like Damian’s posture. He was saved by Titus who came to distract his hands. “But hey! We’re all here now” Grayson assured stepping back so he could have the full view of his family. Paying a bit more attention, he could see that Drake was still wearing his suit from work and Todd was holding his motorcycle keys. Clearly, both planned on leaving as soon as he was gone. 

“Tt, you didn’t all need to come in the first place,” he replied petting his Great Dane methodically. “Your time would’ve been better served continuing your business.” 

 “Don’t be such an a-hole Dames, we’re just here to tell you to have fun” Drake smiled as if he didn’t know that Damian needed to learn how to avoid people at galas. As if he wasn’t the one who willingly taught him how. 

“That, and to place our bets on how many days before you deck a kid in the face” Todd teased, as expected. 

“Boys” Bruce interrupted settling a hand on Damian’s shoulder that made him jump. “I’m certain that Damian and Jon will do just fine. Say your goodbyes and let them get going.” It was nice to know his father was eager to have him away. Perhaps that was why all his siblings came, to celebrate his more official absence. 

“I’m sure that it’s gonna be a lot of fun. I also programmed your phone so that it has a direct link to the watchtower and the comm system in case anything goes wrong” Gordon smiled passing him a cell that he could bring for the trip. 

“Bruce is right though. You’ll be late if you don’t get going squirt.” Drake added as helpful as ever. He let his hand stroke Titus a bit longer with each pat. This whole thing was a stupid endeavor that would only serve in giving him a lack of training. 

“Titus, come” Todd called and Damian smiled when his dog refused to move from in front of him. At least someone had undying loyalty. Grayson laughed and came to pet the dog as well, as if he could bribe him from his spot. He failed.

“Good boy Titus.” Damian praised. “You’ll have to guard my room while I’m gone,” he instructed side-eyeing Drake. “Go to Todd.” He could feel his nerves come back as the dog left his side and he walked back to the door where Alfred was waiting with an extra coat. 

“We’ll see you when you come back” his father promised. He nodded and accepted the half-hearted goodbye. 

“I’ll take good care of the animals Master Damian” Alfred assured putting the coat gently in his arms. He only hummed in acknowledgment before Jon roughly shoved up against him. 

“Say goodbye to your brothers and let's go!” Damian could appreciate his enthusiasm. The sooner they left his family to stand by themselves the better. 

“Bye,” he mumbled opening the door only to slam it on all their sickeningly fond farewells. 

He’d be back in a month and nothing will have changed. The growing pool of nerves in his stomach would surely dissipate. The nightmares that had been increasing wouldn’t be an issue at the camp. Everything would be fine. 

“I can’t wait to know our cabin names. Do you think they’ll let us pick? Would it be weird if we named the cabin krypton? Probably right?” 

He was going to die before next month.

Chapter Text

The minute Damian was gone Tim knew he had to set his plan in motion. Bruce was quick to head back to the study but it was easy enough to snatch his wrist before he got too far. “Hang on! I have an idea and we need to act fast if it’s going to work” He announced loud enough that Dick and Jason wouldn’t imagine leaving before they could hear the end of it either. 

It was easy to see that for the past few months, since he had moved out, Damian hadn’t been doing as well. The worst of the signs was his unfortunate art show incident last week. Upon reviewing the security footage it was easy to see that his kid brother had hidden in a classroom for at least an hour before walking home. The kid was anxious and they could all see it. The way he would scan crowded rooms like a sentinel. It wasn’t hard to notice how nervous he would become when there were screaming matches. 

Cass had almost killed Jason for it the last time. Neither Jason nor Dick had noticed how upset Damian was becoming during one of their extremely heated disputes and Cass had ended up finding him in the ventilation later on. It wasn’t pretty and needless to say the whole family had been trying to keep things calm and safe for the resident PTSD-suffering assassin. It was then that Tim was blessed with a wonderful idea after visiting with Conner and Wolf. 

“What?” Bruce asked skeptically and Tim released him with a smile. 

“While Damian’s away I think we should send Titus to a service dog training facility,” Tim revealed and Jason gave him a raised eyebrow in response. 

“The brat’s already trained his dog.” The objection was true enough. Titus was seated exactly where Damian put him before walking out the door. However, Tim had planned for this argument and already prepared his closing thoughts. 

“Maybe, but if you would turn your attention to the main TV” Once he had pointed it out, it didn’t take long for Bruce and Dick to smile and sit by the couches. They had seen Tim’s grand presentations before and Jason didn’t need too many hints once the PowerPoint title slide came on. His grand layout detailing why Damian definitely needed Titus to have service dog training. He cleared his throat and stood near the TV to let his Wayne persona take over. 

“As we all know, Damian exhibits many signs of PTSD including social anxiety, separation anxiety, normal anxiety, depression, fidgeting with knives, panic attacks, insomnia, and the list could continue.” He began hating the resigned looks that came over all of them. They were all well aware of how much Damian struggled to maintain his image of the perfect son regardless of how many times he was reminded he didn’t need to. 

“Service animal training can help Titus meet the needs of some of these issues including but not limited to finding a family member when Damian is experiencing high levels of distress, separating Damian into a safe spot if he’s cornered, DPT or Deep Pressure Therapy which alleviates stress, retrieving a phone, and more.” the list was lengthy but it seemed that, based on Bruce’s expression, his information was being considered genuinely. He took it as a sign to keep going. “This training also allows Damian to bring Titus into public spaces that would normally be much more trouble for us to keep an eye on him. This includes schools, galas, and any other public space. Which is likely to greatly improve Damian’s current standing with paparazzi.”

“You mean improve a standing of absolute ground zero? Not really impressive Timbit” Jason criticized. It was true enough that Damian stabbed a camera last week when a photographer got too close, but Tim was hopeful that Titus would keep photographs at a distance in the future and the benefit couldn’t be ignored. 

“Oh c’mon Jace, let him sell it first” Dick chided with a smile watching as Tim flipped to the next slide. 

“The training wouldn’t be any longer than Damian’s time at camp which means he wouldn’t have to be the wiser. Damian being completely unaware of this training also comes with its own set of benefits which include confusing the baby bat for fun, being alerted that he’s having anxiety even though he normally tries to hide it, and he can save face when he does need help because Titus will retrieve help for him even if he doesn’t ask” he knew the first point would certainly get Jason on his side and sealing it with the final point would be enough for Bruce. Only Dick could stand in his way now. 

“I can leave with Titus today and Cass has already volunteered to go pick him up when he’s finished. The place I chose is extremely reputable and I have hired a hit man to keep his eye on the dog at all times.” Tim concluded, showing a few images of the facilities. “Any questions?”

He received minor applause from Dick and Bruce before his adoptive father finally spoke. “And Cass is on board with it then?” he clarified and Tim nodded. He knew that would help him with someone. “Well, I don’t see any drawbacks to your plan and even if I did,” Bruce continued rising from the couch. “I never heard any of this” Tim knew to nod quickly with the deal as Bruce disappeared to his office. 

“You have me sold too! Except for the not telling Damian and confusing him bit” Dick agreed with a small smile. And darn it because Tim knew that the exact thing to hook Jason would make the oldest brother doubt him. “If we just told Damian then couldn’t he benefit anyway? And he’d be accepting the help of his own accord too.”

“Maybe” Jason conceded but Tim knew that his tone of voice was leading right to Tim’s side and not Dick’s. “But, if you tell the brat then if he has a bad dream and Titus wakes him, he might would stop Titus from coming to get anyone else even if he is struggling because he doesn't want to bother us.” Dick hummed at the challenge and nodded. 

“Alright. I guess you’ve got all of us Timmy. Don’t make us regret it” 

Perfect. Absolutely perfect. He spun and faced the dog in question with a grin. 

“We have a trip to plan Titus”

Chapter Text

Damian had never felt so exhausted from people. The minute he said goodbye to Jon and saw the car, he could feel the insomnia hit his bones. It had been impossible to sleep surrounded by people in an unfamiliar area, especially with the knowledge that his father had forced him to leave his katana at home. Getting in the Lamborghini was the first time he had felt comfortable in weeks. This is probably why it was no surprise to feel himself be lifted out of the passenger’s seat. 

“We’re home” His father whispered beginning the walk up the manor driveway. He only gave a few mumbles in response, repositioning his arms to sit more comfortably between himself and his father’s chest. Over his time spent in Gotham, he had become more comfortable with the idea that his father enjoyed holding him for absolutely no reason even if he did find the act childish. Who was he to deprive his father of things that made him happy? 

“Tim is home for dinner tonight. You need to eat before you go to bed” Bruce reminded gently and Damian nodded as the front door opened. They both knew he would rather stand by himself if his brother was home. Being set down allowed him to fully take in the manor, as perfect as it always was. Above the many aspects he loved of being home, his dog sitting at the bottom of the stairs waiting for him was possibly his favorite. 

“Titus, here” he called happy to see the Great Dane comply and lean up against his side for proper pets. He looks happy and feels as though he’s maintained his weight. Alfred took care of him well then. “I missed you too” Damian whispered close to his pet’s ears before venturing further into the kitchen. 

Speaking of the kitchen, it smelled amazing. Alfred had taken the liberty of preparing vegetarian editions of his favorite Arabic meals. Something the butler had always seemed to do when Damian came home from any time spent away. One time he had spent the night at Jon’s just so that his pseudo-grandfather would make some again. 

“Master Damian! How lovely to see you my boy” Alfred greeted with a smile. 

Odd. He hasn’t told Titus not to come. He rested a hand on his dog and smiled in return. “It is good to see you as well Pennyworth. The food I was offered at camp was far less than commendable” he told him genuinely only to receive the butler’s signature smirk. 

“Ah yes, because food is the only reason I am missed.”

“Obviously” Damian agreed with a matching smirk following the older man into the dining room. Titus seemed to trot right at his heels and the minute he was sat in his usual spot, the Dane settled underneath the table resting his head on Damian’s feet. No one in the room seemed bothered by it and, in fact, Tim smiled at the dog before saying anything to Damian. 

“Hey Damian, how was normal kid camp?” Tim asked.

“Tim” Bruce chided but the teen was completely unfazed, used to the way that Damian and him interacted by now. Not that Damian would ever say anything about it, but it would be odd for Tim to speak to him any other way. He might even miss it. 

“Drake. How unfortunate to see you.” He commented in return taking a large bite of food before even thinking about the question. How was camp? Oversitmmulating? Cold? Exhausting emotionally and socially? “It was fine” Damian settled tapping his free hand against his thigh silently. A habit he had adopted from watching Stephanie do the same thing in stressful situations. It helped marginally. Especially at family dinner when he wasn’t sure how much information was too much information. 

“That’s good to hear. Did you sleep well?” his father joined in and Damian found himself shoving more food in his mouth so he had time to think of an answer. 

He hadn’t slept more than two hours in a single setting the entire time. “Yes, father” he answered picking at his jeans slightly trying to focus on finishing his meal. If he survived the questioning maybe he could get Tim to watch a movie with him. It had been a long time since he was able to stay the night. 

“Make any friends?” Bruce continued and Damian could feel his finger begin to dig in just a bit too hard when he was interrupted. 

Moving back to see his lap he found that Titus had crawled out to sit beside him and now was nudging his hand so that his nose rested between his fingers and his leg. Hmm. He’s never done this before. Titus was looking up at him expectantly and Damian could only think to give him a pat on the head in response. 

“Damian?” The call reminded him that his father had in fact been talking to him and that Tim was looking now as well.

“My apologies” Damian cleared his throat and looked back at the dinner table, not moving his hand from Titus’ head. “No one was of particular interest to me” he admitted finishing up the rest of his plate. His father didn’t look too pleased but Tim seemed to nod with complete acceptance. 

“They were probably all snot-nosed brats anyway,” Tim said standing up with his plate also cleared. When he stood he seemed to spare a quick glance at Damian’s lap and then gave him a gentle smile. “What do you say about watching a movie tonight?” his brother offered and Damian smiled. 

“Fox and the Hound wouldn’t go amiss in my court boys” His father added gathering the plates with Alfred. 

Damian fell asleep before the opening credits had even finished rolling, content to sit in his Father’s lap. It was the best night’s rest he had gotten since he left home and strangely enough, Titus never seemed to leave his side. 

Well, no matter. That was tomorrow's mystery.

Chapter Text

Damian had been looking forward to this for a while. It wasn’t often that Cassandra agreed to do one-on-one training with him. Since coming back from camp it seemed his schedule was a bit less busy and his family had been taking advantage of his newfound free time. He didn’t mind though, Cassandra was by far one of the most advanced fighters and she didn’t go easy on him either. 

Titus trailed behind him as he walked onto the training mats a fairly new development. Prior to camp, he hadn’t been allowed to bring Titus to the kitchen or training areas, but more recently his father and Alfred seemed to be blind to the Great Dane and let him come anywhere. The rules had become so lenient that Damian had begun sneaking Titus into his room at night without consequence. 

Odd indeed. 

“Ready Babybat?” Cassandra asked with a smile from the center of the mats. Damian frowned and set Titus in a stay position before coming in front of her. 

“Not a baby” he protested bringing his hands up in a proper starting stance. 

“Baby to me” she asserted before charging forward. 

The thing about Cassandra’s fighting that was so different from the others was her speed and fluidity. Sure, Dick could move smoothly, but he wasn’t nearly as fast. Tim’s speed was fantastic, but his moves were calculated. Jason…well to Damian, Jason was just not as good in general. Not without getting far too close for ultimately brute force contact moves. Cassandra didn’t need to stay in close proximity to take down a target and she didn’t rely on strength either. 

She landed five hits before he so much as grazed her. He had to think of a move that would force her to be still for a moment. That was one of the only ways to win. He had seen his father do it the other night with success. I just need to get behind her. 

Damian moved in a roll to get closer to Cassandra’s back and then-

She had him by the neck. 

“You were foolish to attempt that Damian. Have you learned nothing?” Talia seethed. 

He was suffocating. 

“Mother I-” He didn’t have a chance to finish his protests before he was thrown across the training arena. The sand burned against his face when he hit the stone. 

“A move like that will get you killed!” she screamed walking over just to lift him by the shoulders and shake him. “You cannot fail Damian. Do you understand me?” No, he could never fail. He had to be perfect. 

“Damian?”

“Damian?!” his sister’s voice forced his eyes open to find he was not in the desert. Nowhere near Al Guhl island. He was in the manor. Hyperventilating on the training mats with Titus licking his face as he lay across his sister’s lap. Cassandra was staring at him, obviously scared. 

It was foolish of him to forget she moved just like his mother. 

“You need to breathe Damian,” she told him gently running her hand through his hair. 

I can’t. Logically, a part of him knew that his lungs were in working order, but a much greater part of him felt like he was drowning in the sands back home. “M-mother” he stuttered feeling his chest constrict. She hates when I panic. She’ll see. I need to stop.

“She isn’t here baby bat” she promised. He then saw her grab at Titus' collar to get the dog’s attention. When she had it, she gently pat right above Damian’s heart. 

What is she doing?

Pressure. He felt his lungs release all their air at once as Titus laid right across his chest to rest where Cassandra had been pointing. His panicked breaths were forced to slow at the weight of the Great Dane and he found himself slowly following Titus’ breathing pattern. What is happening?

“You’re ok. We’re ok.” Cassandra assured continuing to brush through his hair. He felt her rest her hands above his ears for a moment as she yelled, “Bruce!” but it lasted only a second. 

“D-don’t tell Father” he pleaded, reaching up to pet Titus’ fur. 

“Too late,” she said completely unapologetic. 

He knew she was right obviously, it only took another minute for thundering footsteps to launch into the training room. He soon saw his father, panting, come sit beside them on the floor. “What happened?” he questioned sounding oddly like Batman in the moment. Grayson had told him that was always a clear sing of panic but it still made Damian flinch. Made him think he was in trouble. 

“I panicked. Used a bad move and scared him” Cassandra explained. 

She panicked? Why? “N-not scared” Damian denied trying now to push his dog off to no avail. 

“Flashback” he heard her whisper and wished for nothing more than to disappear.

When he first came to Gotham, he was terrified of his family. He had no idea how the rules would work here or what levels of punishment and expectation they had. Only to find that they were all just overbearing softies that wanted to smother him whenever possible. It had been a relief, but sometimes he missed the privacy that came with his assassin facade. 

“Oh Habibi” Bruce sighed and Damian closed his eyes and bit his tongue to keep from crying. 

It's fine. I’m fine. 

“Up Titus” his father commanded like it was nothing, easily freeing him, but his freedom was momentary at best. The second he tried to get away from the situation, his father was pulling him into a near-cradle position against his chest. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly and Damian felt a few tears slip from the cringe of it all. That was certainly it. Not because he knew he was safer here than he ever was in his birthplace.

“Tt-t I’m f-fine” he assured, grabbing at his father’s shirt to wipe at his face. He hoped it was ruined. That would teach him to let Damian suffer in peace. 

“Hmm,” Bruce hummed clearly not convinced. “Cassandra, let's finish training you on lessened force from surprise attacks before you resume training with Damian unsupervised ok?” from his current position Damian couldn’t see much of anything but he assumed his sister agreed, because a second later his father was lifting him up from the ground. 

“Father-!” he protested trying to push away and stand on his own. 

“We’re going to go get milkshakes and you’re going to let me hold you” his father ordered.

Why did I ever think he was going to be like Mother again?

On the way out of the room, looking over his father’s shoulder he easily saw Cassandra pat Titus’ head and tell him “Good boy” before trailing after them. 

….How did he know to do that?

Chapter Text

Damian absolutely hated Galas. They were perhaps the worst part of his civilian persona, and that was saying a lot considering how much he despised school. There were far too many people, too little exists, too much noise, and an expectation that he was to behave like a child on top of that. 

So, awful really. 

His father had insisted that he bring Titus to the event, seeing as how it was an animal charity they were raising funds for. Alfred has dressed the dane in a black bow tie collar and a very intricate black leather harness that had a short, barely two foot, leash attached. He looked rather handsome and matched Damian’s attire perfectly. The press just loved them when they arrived as well, trying to ask indiscernible questions as Dick helped him get through the mob to the main entrance. 

Of course, then things went the way they always do. His brothers always tried to stay with him, one by his side for most of the night. However, inevitably some socialite would pull them away and leave him to fend for himself. In this instance, it meant he had to deal with talking to a larger group of heirs by himself. 

I hate children. 

“So Damian, what’s with the dog?” one of them asked clearly amused with the situation. 

“Titus is here to support the Humane Society Fundraising. I was under the impression you would all be aware of what tonight is for.” He explained in his best condescending tone he could manage. It was a good thing he had so much practice using it on Tim in his early years at the manor. 

“You’re still a pompous little sh*t aren’t you Wayne” Jackson, the only recognizable boy in the group, huffed. Jackson was only three years older, but towered over Damian in height and constantly seemed to find him at events regardless of Damian’s expert avoidance skills. “Didn’t get enough of Daddy’s kiss-up genes.”

“Don’t talk about my father” He hissed on instinct.  

“Oh?” Jackson asked amused. “Sorry, did you wanna talk about Mommy instead?” 

Damian's blood went cold. 

“Oh wait, that’s right, she abandoned you huh?”

His fist connected with Jackson’s teeth before he could even think.

The next sensation he could actually process was his knuckles hurting, and then Titus tugging on his sleeve. When he finally looked up from Jackson, who had evidently passed out, he saw that everyone in the vicinity was staring and whispering. sh*t. He felt himself panic knowing that his father would very soon hear that he had messed up again. 

He’s going to be furious. I have blood on Alfred’s laundry. sh*t. SH*T. Titus tugged on his hand now and Damian found that he had grabbed the dog’s leash as he rushed to stand and look around at the group that was yelling all sorts of things. 

“How could that Wayne boy-”

“It’s just what his people do-”

“I heard that his mother-”

“Jackson is such a sweetheart-”
“Call the police-”

sh*t. Damian felt like he couldn’t breathe and that there wasn’t a clear escape but Titus began pulling him anyway. Dragging and weaving him through people at a speed where Damian felt like he could be running. It didn’t take long for them to find an end table that Titus quickly ducked under pulling his owner with him. 

The small dessert table had a black floor-length tablecloth that hid him away from everyone perfectly. It was on the other side of the Gala floor as well, making it perfect to get away from some of the noise he had caused with his disruption. 

How could I mess things up so quickly? We’ve only been here for two hours. He was distracted from his thoughts when Titus laid down beside him and rested his head on his lap effectively pinning his fidgeting hands. Which he suddenly remembered were hurt from his harsh punch. I’ll need to bandage those later. Father is going to be upset. He’s-

The tablecloth lifted revealing a concerned Jason Todd who didn’t hesitate to crawl into a space that was far too small, just so he could sit by him. 

“What are you doing Todd?” he questioned, trying to sound like he wasn’t in the middle of a personal crisis. His older brother just reached for one of his trapped hands, gentle of injury, and rested it on his chest. 

“Slow down there Gremlin. If we’re gonna blow this popsicle stand you need to be in top-tier condition.”  Jason grinned, taking slow breaths for Damian to copy. He subconsciously followed before he was able to process what his brother was suggesting. 

“We’re leaving?” he asked confused and Jason nodded. 

“Heck yeah. I’ve been waiting for an excuse since we got here and that little sh*tshow is our one-way ticket. Stephanie is already out back.” 

… “Father won’t be pleased” he rarely is if we fight with civilians. He certainly won’t like that we left so soon. It doesn’t end for another hour. Plus, he’ll want me to apologize to Jackson and his family. “I should go-”

“Don’t even think about it brat” Jason denied, dropping his grin. “Bruce isn’t ‘pleased’ but it ain’t because of you. One of those little brats was recording so all h*ll has broken loose over there” he corrected gently patting Titus on the head. 

Father isn’t mad. He’s upset with the boys. “But I-”

“Didn’t do a d*mn thing.” Jason interrupted. Titus seemed to sense the conversation was dying down and slowly stood. “Time to bounce Dames,” Todd announced helping him sneak out from under the table and proceed to lead them to a back door exit of the event hall. 

I don’t understand. Father is always upset when I touch civilians. Why would he not be now? Looking down at his dog, he couldn't help but wonder how Titus had learned to hide either. Perhaps from the intense games of Hide and Go seek around the manner? He couldn’t say. 

Soon enough they reached the door and he found Stephanie smiling at them in her jeep. “Get in losers, we have places to be.”

Later that evening Damian would have a long conversation with Bruce about when to leave a conversation to find a family member if he was uncomfortable at an event, but that wasn’t what would keep him up at night. No, he spent the next night trying to figure out when Titus had become so smart. 

Chapter Text

“You are to climb to the top Lord Damian” his guard instructed in Arabic, strapping on his supply bag. Damian was freezing staring up at the mountains of Interlaken. At just 4 years old, they looked as if the top of the world would be waiting for him. He had always hated the cold. 

“Umi will be waiting for me?” he questioned letting the help coat his fingers in chalk. 

“Yes, Lady Talia will be waiting at the top for you. It will take approximately six hours if you climb it properly. There is a climbing tent in your bag should you have to rest on the way up without a suitable cliff.” 

The guard wouldn’t say anything else. Even as a toddler, he knew that they weren’t really there to help him. He knew that they just did whatever Ras instructed. He knew there weren’t any other choices. 

Damian began to climb after that. 

Two hours in his hands began to bleed. He’d pushed through it anyway.

Three hours and he was begging for his mother to come and get him. He knew the guards were watching his ascent. He knew they had the power to help him and simply chose not to. 

It was the fourth hour that he fell, expecting to die. He screamed and sobbed when his wrist collided with a small cliff, barely catching himself. Wishing his grandfather had never sent him here. Wondering why his mother wasn’t coming. 

“Damian!”

Damian woke up panting and covered in sweat. Every inch of him felt the adrenaline that was rushing through his system. It surged just a bit when he realized his oldest brother was sitting next to him.. A nightmare. Titus, he noted, was also on the bed laying at his feet as Dick placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Slow down, you’re breathing too fast.” The command came in the sickeningly gentle tone that Dick always used when he thought Dmaian was hurt or scared. On the surface, Damian would say he hated it and didn’t need coddling, but in reality, he missed having someone who cared. Though, the order was easier said than done. He let himself fall into his brother’s arms and soaked up the warmth. He was freezing. 

“sh*t Dames you’re shaking bad, baby.”  Damian stayed quiet and clutched Dick’s dark blue crewneck. He knew he wouldn’t have a voice yet. He’d been having nightmares long enough to have a full idea of his symptoms. One of which was shaking in his muscles, including his throat. As embarrassing as the ordeal was, he wouldn’t make it worse by stuttering so much that he was unintelligible. He’d only made that mistake once.

His brother had never required words from him though. He would just hold him and let him breathe especially when it had been just them in the penthouse. No matter how many awful memories he had, he never questioned Damian on them and didn’t dare insinuate anything about his mother either. A good thing, since Damian loved his mom. No matter what. Even if he did feel phantom pain in his back and aching in his wrist and why does it hurt so bad?  

“It’s ok. We’re in your room. Everything’s ok.” Dick comforted rubbing his back. Damian was aware his breaths were still stuttering and that tears may have been drowned in his brother’s clothes but that was a problem for tomorrow. 

“M f-fine” Damian finally managed not that he removed himself from their extended hug. 

It wasn’t cuddling. Damian didn’t cuddle. 

“You will be.” Dick agreed. “Just a bad dream?” he asked a bit more hesitant. 

“Memory” he corrected letting go of fabric to wipe his face. He moved around until his back was to Dick’s chest, allowing him to feel his heartbeat. “Just hurts.”  It always hurts. 

“Well we’ll have to fix that, won’t we?” his brother suggested shoving his face into Damian’s hair. Not that he would tell him, but he loved when Dick played with his hair. He suspected that all of his brothers felt the same since Bruce did it to all of them. “I think Alfred is making some post-patrol hot chocolate right now. What do you say we go down and sneak some?” 

The offer was compelling. Tempting even but Damian shook his head anyway and burrowed hard against his Batman. Stay here. Just a bit longer . He wouldn’t ask for it. He never did. 

Dick tightened his hold and bagan swaying him just a bit in his lap. “I love you.” Dick promised. 

Damian never had to ask, because Dick always heard him anyway. 

All of those nights on Al Guhl island staying awake in fear that there’d be another test, would fade away in moments like these. Not in a way that meant he didn’t still scan every room he entered, or could sleep with the curtains open or the door cracked, but in a way that would make him feel safe if his family was with him. 

Of course, Titus always helped too, watching the door for him when he couldn’t. 

Now that I think about it- “Grayson?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“How did you know I was in distress?” The arms around him stiffened for just a moment. His mentor’s biggest tell. As Batman and Robin, Damian had easily discovered that Dick hated lying to family and therefore was quite bad at it. Stiff muscles were a sure sign he was debating if the truth would be acceptable or not. 

“Umm”

“The truth would be good” Damian pressed moving enough to look up at Dick who was clearly uncomfortable. I wonder why-

“Titus barked at my door” Dick answered sounding resolute in his reply. Damian couldn’t help turning away to stare at the Great Dane in question. 

He was snoring and near falling off the bed. 

“Titus?” Damian asked, voice devoid of any emotion beyond sarcasm. 

Dick smiled and nodded. “Yep, he’s a good pupper.” 

“Don’t call him a pupper Grayson, it's demeaning.” 

“I think you’re just grumpy cause you haven’t had hot chocolate” Dick smirked, moving to get up snagging Damian’s legs in an effective piggyback. 

“Grumpy?” Damian scoffed, offended.  

“Oh absolutely. You and Bruce both. You didn’t get enough chocolate growing up and it shows.”

Chocolate is not a requirement of childhood. Then again, Tightening his grip around Dick’s neck to continue their earlier hug against the Manor’s walking heater, he wasn’t afraid. Perhaps family is.   

Chapter Text

Damian hated being dragged along for social gatherings. Unfortunately, it appeared his life called for them to be necessary every once in a while. This morning quickly turned into one of those instances when his father had to pass off his responsibility to Tim due to a work meeting. So, Tim was to drive him to the art museum in Jump City and therefore they had to stop by the Titan Tower before they could go. 

Damian had been absolutely p*ssed, but Tim’s suggestion to bring Titus to entertain himself had been begrudgingly a good idea. Currently, he and Titus were sitting in the general living area, Damian reading a new book recommendation from Alfred. Titus was snoozing away on top of Damian’s sneakers, oblivious to Damian’s irritation from the room's other inhabitants. 

Tim had disappeared with Blue Beetle to review something in the mission room, leaving Beast Boy, Raven, Starfire, and Superboy in his proximity. Completely unmonitored by their only competent member. When Tim was absent the group was practically useless in Damian’s opinion. Thus he wasn’t surprised when they all began playing video games rather loudly as opposed to any quiet stimulating activity. 

“You sure you don’t want to play Robin?” Beast Boy asked rather loudly for the third time in the past ten minutes. 

There is no sum of money or threat of h*ll that could make me play with you. “I’m certain” he asserted pausing his reading to reach down and pet Titus. There were many reasons he wouldn’t play. The teens being far too loud, curious, and moody. Not to mention he didn’t know the rules for this game meaning he would certainly lose. Al Guhls didn’t take certain losses. Sure, playing his family was a bit chaotic, but at least they knew boundaries. 

“Come, Robin, surely it’s more interesting to be with other people?”

And common sense. 

Starfire’s appeal only made Damian shake his head. He was done justifying things with a verbal response if they weren’t going to listen to him. He didn’t appreciate being ignored. Tim had told him before they ever arrived if he didn’t want to talk to any of them that he could just read his book. What a foolish plan that had been. 

“Don’t bother with him Star. Red Robin made it very clear we aren’t to pressure him.” Raven muttered under her breath sounding almost sarcastic with the idea that they could ‘pressure him’. He could hear her air quotes. 

Bother with me. Not bother me. Well, it was only fair they saw him as a lost cause, he felt the same about them. They were fools if they thought anyone could pressure him into anything….well, anyone besides Alfred. Alfred was an exception. 

“Besides RR is always ragging on about what a drag the kid is. He probably doesn’t even play video games” Superboy added. 

…a drag? That can’t be a good phrase. Damian hated it when people used American slang that he had yet to learn. Of all the languages Damian had to master, American English had been the worst. He felt his frustration grow as he realized he was now too invested in listening to their conversation to properly enjoy or pay attention to his book. Titus seemed displeased as well because Damian felt him nudge his leg, as if to tell him something. What, he didn’t know. 

“Conner! He can hear you” Starfire chided. 

“I think that’s kinda the point Star. Red Robin is always complaining about the kid it’s only fair that he hears it too.” Beast Boy groaned. 

Complaining about me?

“Plus you’re assuming the little demon brat is listening.”

Demon. It had been a while since he heard the word said so venomously. Especially in reference to him. He couldn’t help but feel his spine stiffen in a way that reminded him of the damage done there. I can’t exactly be surprised. Drake and I didn’t always get along. Though, they are speaking as if Tim always spoke badly of him. I thought we were ok now. 

Titus nudged his leg again. 

Unless he’s been faking with me the whole time. 

He didn’t notice immediately when he dropped his book in his lap. 

“BB, stop”

“Don't’ act like you weren’t just saying the same thing Con-”

“I’m serious.” Superboy interrupted, standing from the couch. Damian did his best to ignore the clone in favor of focusing on his own mental crisis. And breathing. “Star, you need to go get RR. Now. Everyone else should leave the room.”

Titus came to stop his hands, by laying on one of them, before he could bother to feel around his neck to check his airways. Breathing is labored. Tim doesn’t like me. It was a lie. He’s pretending. He thinks I’m a demon. I’m causing a problem. They’re going to tell them I bothered them. sh*t. Sh*t. This is anxiety isn’t it?

Damian felt stupid for wishing Jason were there to help him. This felt so much worse than when he had been at the Gala. This was family and the last thing he wanted to do was face up to Tim. Titus was doing his best to distract him as he crawled up into his lap, pushing his book to the floor in the process, and proceeded to place his heavy head on his shoulder. 

“Robin.”

I want to go home. Or call Mother. Maybe both. That’d make the Titans feel better. I could leave before Tim ever gets here if this wretched body would just do what it’s supposed to do. He knew well enough to know that Superboy was attempting to talk to him but he didn’t have enough brain capacity left to deal with him. Instead, he pushed his fingers into Titus fur and tried to mimic the Great Dane’s breathing. 

“Get out!” 

The sound of his brother’s voice caught his attention in the worst way. He instantly received the last thing he wanted, Tim’s sole attention as Superboy fled the room as quickly as possible. He pushed himself further into Titus’ fur and used one hand to pull the hood up on his suit in an attempt to hide. 

There’s nowhere to hide. He’s either going to say they’re right or pretend again. I want Umi. He tried to suffocate himself on Titus only for the Dane to try pulling away once Tim had gotten close. Don’t flee now you traitor. 

“Damian?” Tim asked sounding much calmer than he was just a few minutes ago. Damian wasn’t fooled. It was obvious that he was furious. He’d only ever heard Tim yell like that during patrol. Mostly in crime alley to be specific. 

“Kiddo can you hear me?” Damian wished he could disappear as Titus decided to lay down in his lap, effectively exposing his face whilst also pinning his legs from blocking it. He instantly tried to lay down on top of him only for Tim to place a hand on his shoulder. 

“Don’t do that Gremlin. You’ll restrict your breathing more.” don’t tell me what to do. “Answer me, Damian. Are you having a flashback or do you understand what I’m saying?” Tim’s pleading did exactly what Damian said no one could do other than Alfred. It pressured him to answer. 

He tried to take a deep breath but words weren’t going to come so he nodded instead. Tim sighed at that, relieved or frustrated he couldn’t tell. “Ok, ok that’s good. What do you need right now?” 

What do I need? “L-leave” he stuttered. 

“Absolutely not.” 

Son of a b*tch. 

“ I asked what you need, not what you want” Tim corrected. “Do you want me to call Dick? Jason?” Damian didn’t know what he needed but he knew it wasn’t more people. He shook his head and did his best to even the rest of his breathing. The presence of his brother was calming his body even if his mind couldn’t decide whether or not he was in danger. 

Dick called it PTSD and apparently, every member of their family has it. 

“Starfire said that the guys said something that upset you. Did they start shouting? I told them to keep it down” Tim prodded sitting on the ground in front of the couch. Damian chose not to say anything as he pet Titus’ head. 

It’s a trap. He’s faking. 

“Do I need to pull up the CCTV footage or are you gonna work with me here?”

The footage would be worse than whatever Damian could say. Stutter or not. “S-sorry” he apologized still unable to look up and see if Tim was still angry or not. Titus was a more handsome view anyway. Pull yourself together. 

“It’s ok. I’m not the one upset.”

“b-bullsh-sh*t” he disagreed eliciting a humorless laugh from his brother. 

“Alright you got me. I’m p*ssed as h*ll.” Tim admitted. I knew it. “But not at you, Damian. We can just take our time.” 

Damian was certain that Tim must not mean that, yet after twenty minutes his brother was still waiting patiently for him. Damian had taken the time to reclaim his thoughts and push Titus gently to the floor, making room to stand up. “Let’s just go home” he mumbled, feeling the full embarrassment of the day’s events. 

“If you’re not feeling well and need to go home, fine. Otherwise, we have a very important museum exhibit to go to” Tim corrected and Damian sighed. 

“You don’t have to take me Drake. Let’s just go”

“I don’t ‘have’ to do anything Demon brat.”

Damian felt himself grow even more frustrated with the insult thrown in his face. “Leave it Drake. I know you’d rather be on your own today. I refuse to be something for you to complain about.” he asserted just about ready to push Tim over so that he could stand up. In the moment he forgot he had been avoiding looking at his brother and was met with a very furious looking Tim Drake. 

“Damian.” Tim started, far too calm for Damian’s liking. 

This is it. I’ve pushed him to the limit. 

“Did they insinuate that I don’t want you here?” Tim asked carefully, as if it were a nuclear bomb equation. When Damian didn’t answer he found himself rather roughly yanked to the floor ungracefully into Tim’s lap. 

“Drake! What the h*ll-”

“I love you” Tim interrupted firmly securing him in a hug. Damian froze. 

I- what? Did he just say-

“You’re my little brother. The baby of the family. Of course, I talk to my friends about you and some of that is going to be me complaining. But I complain about everything.” True enough. “That doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy spending time with you.” 

Damian couldn’t force up enough energy to reiterate anything, but he did hug his brother back even if they were cramped on the floor, Damian stuck between Tim’s chest and the bottom of the couch.  He stayed there for a few minutes before he felt the need to fix at least one thing. 

“I don’t like being called Demon.” 

He felt Tim stiffen under his grip but it disappeared in seconds, as if he wasn’t meant to feel it in the first place. The hug tightened. “You got it, Dames.”

“Drake?”

“Hmm?”

“Can Titus come to the museum?” 

“Definitely.” 

Damian could question why Titus was suddenly allowed at the tower and in expensive socialite locations later. For now, he was just going to enjoy time with his brother. 

Chapter Text

Damian generally enjoyed hanging out with Duke. The newest member of their family was one of the most laid-back people he had had the pleasure of associating with. However, Duke grew up doing normal citizen activities and unfortunately, that meant that he enjoyed dragging Damian along for these activities. 

When it was to places like the arcade or a movie, Damian usually didn’t hate it. Today though, Duke had suggested that they go on a trip to the mall so that Damian could get some new shoes before the start of school. Duke insisted that back-to-school shopping at the mall was a nonnegotiable aspect of childhood and that Damian was missing out. Of course, Dmaian could have refused, but when Duke told him it was brother-bodning time he couldn’t bear to say no. After all, it had taken quite a while for Duke to settle into the family. 

Thus, Damian was stepping out of the borrowed Bently with Titus at his side. Today, Titus was sporting a black leather harness that had a small Red Cross sewn on each side of the Great Danes' chest. It had been a present from Duke who assured him that it meant Titus was trained well enough to be in public places. Damian wasn't sure if that was the truth, but he also wasn’t willing to investigate it at the moment. Damian didn’t necessarily believe that, but he also didn’t feel the need to call his bluff. He enjoyed having Titus with him. It made him feel like he wouldn’t die if they went out in public. 

As they entered the mall Damian quickly found himself closely glued to Duke’s side as the entire place was flooded with people. Most of them were their age, looking for the same thing they came here for: clothes for school. Duke didn’t seem phased by their presence or Damian’s closeness and instead found the nearest shoe store for them to begin browsing. 

Titus politely sat to the right of the stool that Damian was on while he tried on one of the many pairs Duke began stacking beside him. All of the shoes were incredibly different in style as his brother chose one pair from every brand in the store and proceeded to make Damian try on every single one of them. 

“I really don’t see what’s so important about one pair of shoes, Thomas” Damian complained as he pulled out another pair of sneakers. Gotham Academy has a uniform after all. I highly doubt they’ll appreciate bright purple Adidas.

Duke hummed and then proceeded to take the box before Damian could try them on. “Obviously you’re not a fan of the purple Kiddo.” clearly. Just as he thought maybe the older boy would be giving up on his insistence a new box was put in his lap with just as much enthusiasm as the last ten pair. “I just found these and you’re gonna love ‘em” he promised Damian with a smile. 

He sighed, so that Duke felt his pure disdain, but opened the box anyway. In it he found a red and black pair of Air Forces with green shoe laces, obviously styled after the Robin colors. They’re perfect. He almost instinctively smiled before hesitating. Father might see this as hinting at my identity though. He wouldn’t like that. 

“Dames, they’re just colors” Duke told him quietly and Damian glared. 

You and I both know they most certainly are not. 

“Ok, ok, poor choice of words” Duke immediately corrected. “I meant, to the average citizen, they’re colors. Anyone can wear them since there isn’t a direct symbol. Right?” 

Damian felt the soles of the shoes and then began to try them on. I suppose one pair of shoes couldn’t hurt. The minute he saw them on he knew they were buying them. Thankfully ending their time at the shoe store. Duke was thrilled to have taken him and Damian was thrilled to be leaving. 

After all, it’s not like he had fun teasing Duke for his strange knowledge of each brand or watching his older brother pick shoes just for him. 

No, he hadn’t enjoyed that at all. 

“Wanna stop for ice cream on the way-”

Duke’s question was interrupted when Damian saw some sort of flash ahead of them. Now outside the store, he was hyper-aware that they were fairly in the open and was ready to assume the worst. He looked around for a knife, scope, or some other weapon only to see a wave of cameras rushing through the mall. 

“Paparazzi” Damian warned gripping Titus’ lead tighter as they continued to try and calmly walk toward the exit. He initially tried to outrun paparazzi when he was new to Gotham, but his father had quickly taught him that sometimes that was more dangerous and often made the pictures and stories worse. 

“It’s ok, stay next to me” Duke ordered not giving the reporters one glance even as they began to shout at them. 

“Damian do you have any comment on-!”

“Duke why are you both here today?!”

“Do you not have an adult with you?!” 

“Where are you going after-!”

Some questions Damian could hear, others not so much. He did his best to ignore them. 

At least, he had tried. That was until they began to block them from leaving the mall and proceeded to try to step between them with their large camera’s and microphones. 

Damian could hold his own, of course, but he didn’t like doing so as a civilian. His father trusted him now, but Damian didn’t always trust himself. Not with their family image and certainly not with fragile civilians who were boiling his blood. So when one of the ingrates grabbed him by his sweatshirt hoodie, causing him to fall to the ground, he was much more focused on not stabbing anyone to worry about pushing them away from him. 

“Hey!” Duke yelled, even if Damian could no longer see him over all the flashes. “Back the h*ll up!” 

They didn’t listen when his brother yelled, but they did startle when Titus barked. Damian kept his head down to avoid the flash but even looking at the ground he could see Titus had come to stand in front of him and was barking at the reporters every few seconds in warning. After the flashes died down for even a second, Titus began to circle around where Damian fell, effectively creating a circle of space. 

Damian felt like his ears were ringing as all the questions continued to blur together, but he didn’t have too much time to question that. Duke was permitted to pass Titus and quickly helped him off the mall floor. Titus instantly stopped barking and instead picked up his lead to return it to Damian’s hand. Damian shakingly took it and then allowed Duke to grab the other so that his brother could forcefully push their way through. 

After all, Duke was from the Narrows and it seemed that a line had been crossed today that he was no longer willing to put up what he would call ‘the rich people polite wall of bullsh*t’. 

Soon enough they found themselves back in the parking lot and entering the car. Titus nicely sat on the floorboard as Damian buckled. It was only after taking a few breaths in the quiet of the car that either of them decided to say anything. 

“That was awful. Are you ok? You’re not hurt right? They practically were stepping on you” Duke asked all at once, leaning over the center console so he could check on him properly. Damian allowed him to feel his knuckles that had been near trampled before waving him off. 

“I’m fine” he muttered. Paparazzi didn’t exactly scare him. They just made him nervous and intruded his space which made him want to stab someone. Wanting to stab someone scared him if only for his family’s sake. “They’re heathens. It’s fine” he assured and while Duke didn’t look convinced, he didn’t push it. 

However, Damian still stopped him before he could resume driving. “Thomas. Titus helped keep them away” he started, petting the dog in question to soothe his still calming nerves. Duke stiffened, the same way Dick had when Damian had asked about Titus a few weeks ago. Just face it head on. “Did someone train him while I was gone?”

Duke was quiet for a minute and then he started the car. “Dames, I think Titus helped because he could see you were in trouble and he’s a really smart dog. To be honest, I don’t know a lot about how Bruce and Alfred and you take care of the animals so I don’t know how he learned to do that.” 

Alright. So Duke knows he’s had training but he wasn’t privy to who or when. Interesting. “Well, he is a smart animal” Damian agreed, smiling as the car started heading home. And if I’m honest, I don’t much care why you all are keeping it to yourselves. Having him with me is an advantage in every way. 

Besides, I’ll find out soon enough. No need to ruin the surprise effect. 

“Thomas” Damian added as a last second thought. 

“Yeah kiddo?”

“Despite the…obstacles, I didn’t completely hate today.” it was fun and I still want to hang out with you. 

Duke laughed and reached one hand out blindly to ruffle his hair. “I’m glad you had fun.”

Chapter Text

Damian woke up feeling like sh*t. 

It wasn’t very often that he got sick, but being thrown into the Gotham City harbor in the middle of November seemed to do the trick just fine. Shortly after returning from patrol, he found himself taking a warm bath and going to bed, hopeful that perhaps he’d be able to sleep it off and go to school the next morning. 

Based on the way Damian currently felt, that was not going to happen. 

He felt like something was sitting on his chest and that his eyes were going to spontaneously explode from the pressure. As he turned under the blankets a cough forced its way up his throat and he found himself face to face with his great dane who apparently woke up due to Damian’s consistent restlessness. Usually, Titus would sleep in with him until the start of his morning training at six in the morning. Glancing at the clock Damian saw he’d only been asleep three hours and if he could manage to sleep more, he would have five hours of additional sleep. Six, if he skipped morning training and went straight to breakfast. 

He was distracted from his sleep math by Titus shoving his face against the blankets in concern. Hmm. I suppose I really don’t get sick often enough for him to understand what's going on. Damian attempted to speak only to get thrown into further coughing that startled Titus to back away a bit. 

I don’t know what I have. Dogs can get sick too right? Titus whined clearly upset with the situation as Damian panted. “Titus” he called, voice scratchy. The reaction was immediate as he drew close to Damian’s bedside again. “Quiet boy. Adhhab 'iilaa alfirash” he ordered, somehow hoping that maybe Titus could speak Arabic and understand the order to go to sleep. 

If he did understand, it seemed he had no interest in listening. 

He walked quickly back over to the door and whined again, ignoring Damian’s calls to be quiet. After a moment of completely ignoring him, Titus stood on his hind legs and easily pushed the doorknob open as if he had done it a million times before. 

sh*t. “Titus.”

Titus went into the hall. 

“Titus come back-” Damian attempted to get up and grab his dog only to trip up on the blankets and dissolve into further coughing from the strain. He felt his throat become more damaged with every bout. D*mn it. He pushed himself against the bed frame and prayed that Titus at the least, would stay quiet. 

Maybe no one heard that. Plenty of things fell in the manor at odd times. Plus, his father was still on patrol which meant he and Alfred were the only ones in the manor. Surely in his old age, he wouldn’t have heard that. 

There was a rather loud crash down the hall that Damian could only assume came from Titus getting into something. 

d*mn. He let his head thunk against his mattress and felt himself sigh when Titus came back into view with something in his mouth. As the Dane walked up and dropped it in his lap Alfred rounded the corner, clearly having rushed through the hall, and turned on the light. Damian instinctively shut his eyes and rubbed his head to try and quell the oncoming headache. 

“Master Damian! My dear boy don’t tell me you fell out of bed.” Alfred sympathized, dimming the lights before coming over to kneel beside him and Titus. “Did you have a nightmare? Bump your head?” he questioned. 

Damian opened his eyes and shook his head. “‘M fine” he promised in complete denial. It was then he saw Alfred staring down and remembered Titus had delivered him something. Looking down he found a bottle of Tylenol cold. The crash was probably other pills in the medicine cabinet. How would he have known to get this?  

“I can see that” Alfred mused placing a hand on his forehead to feel for fever. 

“It’s nothing. I told Titus not to make any noise. He wouldn’t listen” Damian clarified, allowing his voice to obviously give away his health since Alfred clearly knew what was happening. Alfred only hummed and gently set a hand on Damian’s silk pajama top to feel his breathing. 

At home, he feared every touch from his grandfather. They’d never had a good moment or happy memory for all that Damian tried to remember one. He’d been a demon to Damian and saw him as nothing more than a tool. When he came to the manor and was told that Alfred was like a father to his father, he’d been afraid initially. Worried, that this new grandfather would have the same expectations of him. 

Instead, he found one of the first people he’d ever met, to tell him he was a valued member of the family and that he loved him regardless of what he wanted to eat or have hobbies in. 

So when Alfred sat beside him and tried to assess his lungs, he leaned into the touch.

“Hm. I don’t like the stutter I’m feeling. Is your chest a bit heavy?” Alfred asked after a moment, rubbing gentle circles over Damian’s heart allowing him the closeness he tended to need when he was sick. He conceded that he perhaps was a bit clingy when he wasn’t feeling his best. 

“Mmhmm” Damian agreed resting his head against his grandfather’s chest as he came closer. Maybe it’s worse than a cold. The river could’ve given me pneumonia. 

“Oh child you’re feeling very poorly aren’t you?” Alfred muttered after a moment. He sighed and then managed to bring his crouched knees under Damian’s legs to easily lift him the few feet onto the mattress again. “Let’s get you back to bed. I need to fetch you some medicine and my stethoscope from downstairs,” he explained, settling the blankets around him. 

“You’ll come back?” he croaked, feeling the odd need to double-check, completely oblivious to his accent coming out in his tiredness. Alfred didn’t seem to mind either and just nodded. 

“I promise. Give me just a moment,” he assured, patting his hair before standing. Damian watched through blurry vision as he also gave Titus a pat on the head. “Good boy Titus.”

Even in his sick state, he realized that whatever training Titus received, made him smart enough to recognize commands and ignore them. 

Where did you go when I was away?

Chapter Text

Damian probably should’ve spoken up. 

He had gone to the Kents for a sleepover with Jon and they decided to watch a movie. Not an unusual pastime for boys their age, particularly for Jon who had a love for heroic movies. Damian, ever the most benevolent friend, was willing to sit through almost anything Jon suggested regardless of how interested he really was. After all, Jon was still innocent and untouched by the things that haunted Damian. It was a nice break to be around someone like that. 

When Jon suggested that they watch Dumbo, Damian didn’t really think there would be any problem. 

Dick had shown Damian a wide assortment of Disney movies including Aladin, Toy Story, Winnie the Pooh, and a few more that he hadn’t bothered to remember the name of. The only one that had been a problem was Lilo and Stich which, admittedly, had been a mistake to watch during the time that Bruce was missing and it was just Dick and Damian. He had not been emotionally prepared to hear of their ‘little family’ being broken. However, the grand majority of the others appeared to be frivolous nonsense and if Jon could handle this strange animal movie surely Damian would be fine. 

It started off fairly promising. Damian enjoyed shows about animals and was surprised that Dick hadn’t shown him one that was about a circus. However, not long into the film, he realized what may have been the issue. 

They were whipping Dumbo’s mother, who was just misunderstood, and placing her in a cage. Separating her from her baby. Calling her nothing more than ‘mad.’

A Whip. 

Damian should’ve said something when he saw the weapon on screen. Should've said something when he felt his heart begin to hammer in his ears. Tell Jon that they should just watch a different movie. Unfortunately, all that came to his tongue was a sorry excuse that he needed water. 

As he stumbled from the couch he nearly jumped when Titus brushed against his leg. He’d forgotten that his dog was with him for this trip. He’d intended to leave him at home, but Bruce had insisted that it would be easier if Damian took care of him as he and Alfred were rather busy with work. 

Regardless of his lack of grace, he still made it to the kitchen where he tried to breathe. His mind was running wild with thoughts of his mother. He wondered if she was ok and if she would answer if he called her. He remembered how much Superman would judge him if he could hear him call her. How much his entire family judged her when all she’d ever done was try her best to love and protect him. Even when she didn’t know how. Even when she failed. 

His breathing was hitching even as he followed Titus’ prompting to sit down. The Dane was gently pulling on his sweatshirt sleeve until he finally sat on the tile against the wall between the living room and the kitchen. He hated how small the Kent’s house was. How easy it would be for someone to find him. How little room there was to hide. 

He felt his dagger at his side grow about ten times heavier than it had been when he placed it in its sheathe earlier that morning. It was a present from his mother that he’d received for his last birthday. While they usually didn’t celebrate with such pleasantries she wasn’t able to come and be with him in person which she felt warranted a gift. He’d been ecstatic. 

Now he wondered if his mother was fighting with a knife like that one against a whip like the one he’d just seen. 

“The world is always fighting Habibi. We must simply fight harder” She told him with a smile the day before his tenth birthday. Their last night together before Damian’s entire life had been turned upside down. She had snuck out of an important league meeting just to spend the day with Damian. He didn’t know much about it, only that there was some sort of security concern that needed to be sorted out. 

It was minutes later that men came knocking on the door of their private shared suite. 

“Lady Talia. The Lord requests you.” they had called and Damian could feel his mother’s body go tense even as she pet his head as she stood to answer them. 

“Stay here my love. I’ll see you in the morning” She’d told him.

Damian had not stayed still. 

Damian had heard them whip her. 

He had been whipped in the past, when his mother was too late. She’d slaughtered the men responsible. Damian realized that night that she likely was punished for protecting him far worse than he had been cut in the first place. 

She could be being tortured now. 

“Baby mine, don’t you cry” a voice sang out and Damian belatedly realized he was in Metropolis, not with his mother. His mother was on the other side of the world. She was out of his reach. He couldn’t help her now, even if he wanted to. Even if now he was strong enough. It wouldn’t matter if she was already dead. 

Worse? The awful lullaby was incredibly loud even over Damian’s stuttered breathing. 

“Damian” a gasp sounded and Damian looked up to see that Titus was coming over from where he’d stood beside Lois. He hadn’t noticed that the dog left until the dane was back, pushing against Damian's shoulder with his muzzle. Damian ignored him in favor of trying to keep any wetness from his face. 

Whoever sang that wretched song should burn with Trigon. 

He tried to muffle the noise and ignore his friend’s mother all at the same time by covering his ears only to see Lois frown and disappear from his vision. When she left Titus became more pushy and eventually pushed Damian down further to lie on the floor. 

Yes Titus. Push me when I’m down because now is the perfect time- 

The music suddenly stopped with a rather loud shout from Jon and Titus laid right on Damian chest forcing his stuttered breaths to slow. 

Actually, He reached up and pet Titus behind the ears as he focused on the pressure. That’s really nice. He tuned back into reality by the time Lois returned and was kneeling on the floor beside him. Not touching without permission, but close enough that Damian could reach for her if he wanted to. 

“Hey baby” she greeted gently looking up only to glare at something before turning back to him. “You know where you are?” 

Answer. She’ll panic if I don’t. Damian had learned that from Jason when they were going over what to do if he had a bit of a panic in public and was alone. Not that that scenario seemed particularly likely with the hovering that his family had subjected him to. “Yeah” he replied immediately embarrassed by both the situation and his lack of eloquence at the moment. 

“That’s good.” she praised easily, acting as if it were just another Tuesday. It probably would be pretty hard to surprise Superman’s wife, now that Damian thought about it. “No more movies,” she told him and before Damian could object she scrunched her face and waved it off. “I broke the TV anyway” 

…she what? 

“Are you feeling a bit better now?” Lois asked and Damian was surprised to find he actually was breathing much easier. He still felt shaky, and wanted to call his mom, but he wasn’t going to actively begin panicking again. He nodded slowly and then stopped petting Titus as he questioned how exactly he was going to get the dog off of him. If he wanted to get the dog off of him. 

“Don’t worry about getting up right now. It looks to me like Titus could use some cuddles.” 

Damian couldn’t help but cringe at the word ‘cuddles’ but he resumed his petting nonetheless. I’ve probably ruined the rest of this visit. Jon’s going to be extremely confused. It would be a pain to try and explain later to his incredibly curious young friend. 

“Do you want to go home?”

Damian met Lois’ face and found no judgment there. In a perfect world, a world that didn’t hurt, he imagined his mother would be sitting there asking him the same thing. 

She wasn’t, but it was a nice thought. 

He gently pat Titus and then tried to get up. Evidently, the great Dane seemed to think that Damian was well enough because he really moved and repositioned to lay just his head in Damian’s lap. Once he could fill his lungs with air again he answered. 

“I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you all any further” He answered honestly, forcing himself to meet Lois’ eyes even if he hated it. 

She, as always, gave him no reason to be afraid to talk. “Damian you are always wanted here. It isn’t any trouble at all. Whether you stay or go will not hurt anyone’s feelings in this house, ok? I can make a quick phone call or even have Clark come if you need. If you want to stay, there’s plenty of things you boys can do that don’t involve the TV.” 

Damian nodded, glad to have options clearly laid out for him. That made thinking and deciding much easier. “I want to stay, if that’s alright.” he settled and Lois smiled. 

“I would love that.” 

Damian offered a small smile in return and accepted the hand she offered him when it was time to stand.

 It turned out she had sent Jon out but it was obvious from the way that Jon kept sneaking stares at him that the boy had listened through the walls. Still, that detail didn’t seem to matter as much when Lois made them each a plate of cookies and hot chocolate before bed. The warmth reminded him of the soups his mother would make when he’d had a bad night. On The days she was permitted to be with him. 

“Love you boys,” Lois told them before she’d gone upstairs for the night. 

When Damian nodded, sending his love in return, he wondered if his mother could hear his thoughts on the other side of the world. 

Ana Ahibuk. Ummi.

I love you. 

Chapter Text

At this point, Damian had figured out his family’s little scheme. 

It wasn’t as if they were being particularly sneaky about the whole thing. Allowing Damian to bring Titus to galas and sleepovers, letting him in the kitchen, all of the tasks that Titus seemed to know without Damian ever teaching him, and more were obvious signs that Titus had gotten training from somewhere. Training that was helping Damian.

At first, he’d been angry. After all, they’d taken his dog somewhere without telling him and did so because they thought Damian couldn’t handle his own issues. He’d been determined to demand answers from someone. Determined to tell everyone that he was completely capable and how upsetting the thought of them hiding things was. 

That was before he googled Titus’ tricks and discovered what a ‘Service Dog’ was. 

Service animals, evidently, assist people who have disabilities and Damian’s PTSD meant that he fell into that category. The more he read, the more he understood why someone had decided that Titus would make a good candidate for the training. He was large enough to properly perform tasks and young enough to still accept training. 

Even if he was still a bit angry, he wasn’t going to let anyone know. Not yet. As much as he hated it, the idea that someone had seen all of his struggles and instead of pointing them out and making him feel weak, they just helped, made him unexplainably happy and relieved. 

Thankfully, no one was in his room to see him cry when it hit him. 

When he was ready to deal with those emotions and confront whoever had decided to do what they did, he would, but right now he had bigger concerns. Like the fact that they received word that Deathstroke, the man who tried to control Damian through his spine, was back in town with Robin as the target. 

Due to this, Damian didn’t question when he was suddenly brought to Barbara’s apartment along with Titus and told to stay put. He knew that while he might be able to help, his family wouldn’t rest if they thought Slade could get to him. It was objectively safer in Barbara’s apartment and as much as Damian loved who he was as Robin, loved how strong it made him, there were times he didn’t feel that way. 

Sitting on a bean bag, Titus in his lap, in the corner of Barbara’s bedroom as she worked on the Oracle network, he didn’t feel that way. 

“Nightwing’s cleared Diamond District,” Barbara informed over the comms. “Red Hood, can I have an update on the Bowery?” 

She had always been that way, focused. At least as long as Damian had known her. While most nights Barbara acted as Batgirl there were some occasions that called for the need of Oracle. More than that, Oracle could stay home and protect Damian even when Batgirl shouldn’t. Not that Damian really needed protecting. 

You can want it though. Always. 

Dick had told him that on the drive over. As Damian watched Barbara continue to control the cameras and communications, he wished that Dick had been able to stay with him. Sitting in the apartment not being able to do anything but watch was driving him crazy. 

Then the apartment creaked. 

Damian tensed and sat up to stare at Barbara’s bedroom door, trying to mentally prepare himself for if Slade burst through it. He could’ve sworn that he heard a window shut in the living room. 

What if he’s made it through? Is it possible that he snuck past all of them? Did Jason ever report? He suddenly couldn’t remember if his other brothers had been talking with Oracle or not. I wonder if Mother will have sent her men as well. Talia was where they’d gotten the tip after all. In the interest of protecting Damian, she occasionally forgot Bruce’s rule about no League of Assassins in Gotham. 

Titus whined and he heard Barbara turn her swivel chair to look at him. He didn’t break eye contact with the door but he knew that she was staring at him. He knew that she could see him grab his sword that had been lying on the floor beside him. 

“Batman, continue to look through Bristol. I’ll check for hiring forums in a minute” she told the comm and then Damian heard the floor creak as she came closer to kneel beside him. 

“It was just the wind, Damian,” She told him gently resting a hand on top of where he was gripping the sword hilt. “The storm is picking up outside. My alarms would’ve been triggered if he tried to get in here. Plus, Cass is right outside and you know there’s no one that could sneak past her.”

Logically, yes, he did know that no one could get past his sister. The illogical, much louder, part of him remembered how it felt when Slade made him fight. Made him helpless. He remembered how even before that, Deathstroke had pushed knives through his hands. The nights he spent in pain over an injury that had long since healed. 

“Black Bat, status update,” Barbara asked after a moment pressing a button on her watch that allowed Cass’ answer to come through a speaker. 

“Clear. Quiet” his sister answered. 

Cassandra doesn’t miss anything. Nothing is here. 

“Thanks Cass.” Barbara said before gently patting his hand. “See? Everything’s fine.”

Damian still couldn’t look away. 

He heard Barbara sigh and for a moment worried that he’d annoyed her when she was working but she didn’t give him too much time to dwell on it before she was up and going towards the door. Panic gripped him in a chokehold.

“Don’t” He called, trying to be firm but also quiet just in case someone was waiting. “I-” I don’t want you getting hurt. She looked back at him and he saw her shoulders fall just a bit. I’m disappointing her. But I like her better disappointed and alive than proud and dead. Damian felt the same way about his mother. 

Not that he correlated Barbara to a mother figure in his life. Obviously. 

“What if we have Titus check?” She asked with a small smile, mirroring his quietness from earlier. 

Damian defensively gripped Titus with his free arm at the thought of it. I don’t want him getting hurt either. “Slade-”

“Isn’t here” she shut down immediately coming back over to his corner. “Titus is trained for it.” She told him with a bit of a smirk. “It’ll be our little secret that I share one of his moves.”

Damian’s stress kept him from rolling his eyes at her antics. She had Dick’s strange habit of trying to use humor to comfort people. “What do you mean?” He asked hesitantly. 

She smiled and motioned with her hand for Titus to stand. The Dane easily did so, being careful not to stand on Damian. Damian sat up fully and pulled his sword across his lap now that he had more mobility and looked away from the door to properly see what Barbara was planning to have his dog do. 

“Titus knows how to conduct a safety round. He smells people far before we can know that they’re here. If you tell him ‘check’ when I open the door he’ll look all around the apartment. He’ll bark and run back if anyone is here” She explained still near-whispering. 

Damian felt stupid. He knew that she was only suggesting this because Damian was paranoid. If she really believed that there was any danger, she would already be out of the room telling Damian to stay away. The fact that she didn’t take her tonfas out of their place on her utility belt said a lot about the level of threat she felt they were dealing with. 

Calm down. She’s right. It's just wind. 

“I’m fine” He answered mouth feeling dry. 

His eyes darted back to the door. 

“If sending Titus to check would make you feel better, then I think it’s worth a shot sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. Only Barbara called him that. Only she really believed it. 

He looked up from the door and nodded, even if it was a coward's move. Barbara looked happy enough to stand and rest a hand on the doorknob. Damian could feel his heart pounding but he stayed quiet. 

“Just tell him what to do. You can do it” She instructed and he nodded again. 

It’s fine. Everything's ok. 

“Titus, Check” He ordered pointing at the door. He resisted the urge to hide when Barbara cracked it open just enough for Titus to slip out into the rest of the apartment. 

As soon as the door is shut again Barbara is touching her comm so she can check in with everyone, seemingly settled now that Titus is tasking. Damian on the other hand stares at the door with a death grip on his katana. Even if he was afraid of Slade, he’d slice the man in half if he hurt his dog. If he threatened his family. 

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before there was a scratch at the door and Damian found himself rushing up from his nesting place to answer the door. Titus looked as happy as always, pushing his head into Damian’s hand regardless of the blade hilt that rested there. He smiled at his dog before looking out into the hall to verify everything was alright.

“One moment” He told Barbara who definitely didn’t hear him. 

He left the room and ventured into the kitchen only to hear another thing hit the wall. He unsheathed his sword in an instant, holding it at the ready. 

It only took a moment to locate the cabinet door that had fallen off of its hinges due to slamming against the wall when the air conditioning hit it just right. 

I’m such an idiot. He sighed in relief, laughing a bit at himself, as he put his Katana away. All the while Titus was waiting patiently for him. He looked down at his friend and let his fingers find comfort in his fur. 

Good job Titus. Grabbing the cabinet door from the floor he gently set it up on the counter and sighed. Maybe you and I can fix this. 

He didn’t mean the cabinet. 

Chapter Text

Fighting, in the Wayne family, wasn’t exactly a rare occasion. 

Daily there were the run-of-the-mill training rounds and arguments over who would patrol with who, but those fights never bothered Damian. He’d come to learn that families, even good ones like his, fought often over little things. Without their fists and without purposefully trying to bring up trauma, his family engaged in teasing and roughhousing. Damian didn’t mind that. It didn’t make sense in the beginning but he’d gotten used to it. 

Unfortunately, no family was perfect and those weren’t the only fights that the Waynes had. 

Sometimes, though rare, his family would fight. Real fights. Jason and Dick had their fair share, though they always did so away from Damian. Tim and Barbara argued also, though they preferred venomous words over sound control. Even Cass occasionally engaged Stephanie in actual arguments. 

The worst though, was when Dick would fight with Bruce. 

They would yell loud, like Jason did, but also calculated words in the way that Tim did. It was a combination of every awful thing. Unless one of them was gassed with something, they didn’t get physical or at least, Bruce didn’t get physical. They could go for hours and according to Jason’s stories, they’d always been that way. Dick could go for days without talking to Bruce if they were fuming. 

The part that really bothered Damian the most though, was that the fights were almost always about him. 

Tim would say that divorced couples always fight especially in ‘custody cases’ but Damian didn’t really understand the joke. Nothing about what they did was funny. Jason tried to make him feel better by telling him ‘at least they both have a no-killing rule’ and weren’t like his mother. 

That didn’t make Damian feel any better.

It didn’t make Damian feel like it wasn’t his fault. 

Thankfully, it was very rare that they got so wound up, particularly since Damian had…come back. They were aware that it was counterintuitive and that Damian didn’t like yelling very much. Everything was just fine most of the time. 

Sitting in the cave room now, everything was not fine. 

“It wasn’t your call to make!” Batman yelled, anger radiating through the chambers of the cave’s tunnels. Damian shrunk smaller on the floor, leaning against a medical table. Titus, who now would wait in the cave for him every day, reacted to the sound as well coming to sit beside Damian rather than lay in his dog bed. 

The mission is more important.

“D*mn it Bruce. Damian could’ve been hit if we didn’t pull out!” Nightwing yelled back.

He doesn’t believe I can do it. 

“He had it handled! You underestimate him.”

“You push him too far! You always have!” 

It’s all my fault. 

“You’re both going to argue yourselves into the ground! Everyone is fine can’t we leave it at that?” Stephanie shouted making Damian jump a bit in his hiding place. He’d forgotten she’d even come with them. 

Scarecrow, one of Gotham’s worst. 

He’d escaped early in the night and planted several fear gas tanks in Gotham’s most elitist locations. They’d split up to cover more ground and disable the tanks before timers set them off. Spoiler, Nightwing, Batman, and Robin were assigned the mission while Red Hood and Red Robin went after Crane directly. 

His other two brothers had succeeded and were currently running Crane to Arkham. Damian was not as lucky. 

Damian had worked as quickly as he could, but the timer was low when he got there. He worked anyway, determined not the let the gas seep into the gala below, but before he had a chance to disable the tank Nightwing had come over the coms and demanded that he leave the scene. Batman, just as quickly, ordered him to finish and ignore Nightwing. 

Damian disabled the tank, but he did not feel like the mission was a success. 

“No!” Nightwing denied using the voice he’d perfected in his year as Damian’s Batman. “You never see past the mission in a fight. Damian is more impor-”

“It isn’t about that!” Batman shouted just as heated. 

Damian tried to block out the sound and found that if he sat against the medbay, small enough, the top of the table hid him from the rest of the cave. His chest heaved as if he were the one in the shouting match as he placed his hands over his ears. The bright lights of the cave and the sound was too much. 

It’s all my fault. 

I can’t do anything right. 

They’ll argue even more because of me. 

He felt Titus move and instead of coming closer his dog left his side and Damian felt like crying very suddenly. 

Even he knows I’m to blame. 

“If you can’t focus when he’s out there then you shouldn’t patrol” Batman growled. 

“That’s what you’re getting out of this?! Really?!” Nightwing continued. “You are so dense sometimes!”

I want it to stop.

Then, some of the lights went out. 

“Both of you shut the actual h*ll up!” Stephanie screamed much louder than the others had been. Loud enough that Damian, even through his weak attempts to block the noise, could hear that she had come to stand near the medbay table he’d sought shelter under. 

Damian sat, face in his knees, trying not to shake from the sniffling when he belatedly realized something.

It’s quiet.

When he looked up Stephanie was kneeling in front of him, Titus beside her. She gestured, smiling gently, for him to take his hands off his ears. He complied. 

They stopped. 

He used his free hands to wipe his face. 

“Did you get hurt?” She asked quietly and he shook his head. He wasn’t injured from the day whatsoever, just tired. She smiled and held out a hand. “Let’s go then.” 

He took her hand. 

When he came out from his hiding place, Titus beside them, he found that Batman was sitting at the computer, Nightwing near him, both staring at him. Damian instantly turned away and continued to let Stephanie lead him upstairs. They didn’t say anything to stop them. 

They entered the manor quietly, but Alfred found them anyway. 

“Master Robin, Miss Spoiler, I believe you know-”

“Alfred,” Stephanie began interrupting Alfred’s reminder of ‘no suits’ in the house. “I’ll put them away in just a sec, kay?” she offered.

Alfred seemed to notice their hand-holding, much to Damian’s embarrassment, and nodded. “Naturally.” He agreed easily. Like nothing was wrong. “It seems I have some business to attend to downstairs.”

That doesn’t sound good. 

When he left them Stephanie laughed a bit. “They’re so in trouble” She voiced and Damian sniffled a bit in response. 

Pennyworth will make them see reason. Alfred had always been the most sensible. He continued walking up towards the movie room when Titus brushed his hand. Looking down at the dog he smiled a bit. 

You Weren't leaving me, were you boy?  

“Brown?” Damian asked quietly. 

“What’s up, Dames?”

“Why did the lights go out?” 

Stephanie stopped walking when they reached the door and shrugged. “A little puppy thought a baby bat would prefer things a bit darker I suppose.” She answered before throwing the door open and guiding Damian inside. 

As they settled to watch Howl’s Moving Castle, Damian pet his best friend and wondered who had thought to train him to do something like that. 

The other tasks made sense, but this one? Damian hadn’t ever told anyone that lights bothered him. Not since he was very young. 

Someone knows far too much about me. 

That was a mystery for another day.

Chapter Text

Damian had been bringing Titus to school with him for nearly a month before things went wrong. 

At school, Titus wore the harness that he’d been given by Duke for when they were out in public. According to Damian’s research, service animals often wear harnesses as a way of showing others and teaching the dog that they’re ‘working.’ The other students seemed to recognize Titus as a working animal immediately though some did have to be advised not to touch. 

Of course, there also had been the other parents protesting Titus’ allowance in the classroom. Damian didn’t get to hear too much of the meeting but after only three days his father had been called in to talk with other parents for Damian’s class and he could only assume what their complaints were about. 

Today, despite their rocky start to Titus’ school journey, things had been going fairly well. With Slade’s capture, Damian didn’t feel like there were any imminent threats. Bruce and Dick had also patched things up since their last argument, decreasing Damian’s anxiety for the week as well. All signs pointed to a good week. 

“My parents are getting a divorce.”

Too bad Damian wasn’t allowed to have a good week. 

Leland, the youngest in Damian’s art class, was the most talkative boy in school and had no problems sharing his personal business. Maybe normal people would just tune him out, but Damian had been trained to listen to everything around him. A blessing and a curse. 

“That’s not surprising. You failed science last semester” Adams, another classmate, replied. 

I will never understand the thought processes behind these plebians. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Leland asked.

“Anytime people get a divorce or stop talking and they have kid, it’s definitely the kid’s fault. Whether you meant to or not, it's about you.” Adams said. 

Damian’s brush stroke paused for only a second before he rushed to get his watercolor off the stretched cotton paper. The color had begun to pool in the wrong place due to his distraction. He did not want the landscape of the Kent farm to be ruined because of a few noisy 8th graders. 

“That’s not true!” Leland objected loud enough that a teacher should have stepped in. 

“It is” Adams continued. “People don’t just stop liking each other. Kids make everything complicated. Especially if one parent likes the kid and the other doesn’t” 

“It’s complicated,” his father told him on the drive to the manor the first day they’d met. “I care about your mother, but things aren’t that simple.”

“Both of my parents love me.”

“I love you, Damian. Don’t listen to anyone who tells you otherwise. I trained you to keep you alive” His mother promised, kissing his forehead when she kidnapped him for his birthday. 

“Do they both want you to do the same things?” Adams asked. 

“Well no-”

“You need to be a warrior, Damian. Strong.” His mother instructed. 

“I want you to control yourself, Damian. You can’t take back what you do” His father warned. 

“Then they probably fought over that. That’s why my aunt and uncle divorced.”

“Damian, would you rather stay with me or go with your father?” Talia questioned, vice grip on his shoulders. 

“Do I have to choose? I would much rather we were all together” Damian answered. 

“It’s gotta be your fault man” Adams asserted and Damian felt his paintbrush snap in his hands. 

“Some people shouldn’t be together,” Tim told him gently. “But, they made you and I’d say that’s worth it. It’s not your fault they couldn’t figure things out.”

“Shut up Adams” Damian huffed placing his broken paintbrush on the edge of the easel so he could grab a spare. Pennyworth will not be pleased that I’ve broken yet another. It was a good thing his family had no issues financing his artistic talents even when he was a bit rough with his things. “Your idiocy will infect the place.” 

“Mind your own business, Dune” Adams sneered.

Adams knew just what to say to keep from getting expelled but to maintain his tone of racism toward Damian and his family. 

It was amazing how fast Damian was out of his seat and standing between him and Leland. 

Titus trailed behind him instantly, standing beside Leland as Damian acted as a human shield. Sure, he was shorter than Adams by half a foot, but he was stronger. Even as Adams straightened up to tower over him, Damian felt no fear. 

“Be for real, Wayne” Adams said, just quiet enough that the teacher couldn’t hear them anymore. “Even if you wanted to fight me, your dad’s just as f*cked as Leland’s. He’d get rid of you, just like your mom did.” 

Damian had outgrown his hitting phase, at least unprovoked, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t fight back. 

“You know nothing, Adams.”

“I love you, Habibi” She promised when she’d left him with a man he knew nothing about. 

“I’m not afraid of you or your pathetic plebian threats.” 

“I’m proud of you, son. Of the man you are becoming and you will always have a place by my side” Bruce told him when he had all the reason to turn him away. 

“You should be” Adams said before pushing Damian with all the strength he had. 

The Kent farm very quickly came to resemble a crime scene of dark purples and reds that bled across the sunset he’d spent nearly three class periods working on. 

Damian fell, hands down, onto his easel causing paint to fly onto the floor, his uniform, and the canvas. Stains settled immediately as he barely kept his balance enough to keep his face from meeting the now ruined piece. 

“Oh sh*t” Leland cursed. 

Sitting on his knees, chest heaving in anger that was burning into his face, he could see that his piece was ruined. It would be impossible to finish another art piece in time for the final that would be due next week. Not if he was going to keep up on patrol and reports. 

I’ll fail the class. Either that or I have to take a week off from being Robin. Both choices made him want to throw up. His expensive paints were all across the art room floor just as ruined as the painting. 

“Now master Damian, do be careful with these. It took some time to gather paints of this quality” Alfred said when he gifted them for Damian’s second birthday at the manor. 

“I told you-” Adams started.

Damian felt that his punch was justified. 

This wasn’t like the gala. There weren’t tons of press here to ruin everything. The teacher hadn’t even noticed what had been happening so it wasn’t like they were going to get him in trouble. 

The paints and his painting couldn’t be replaced. Adams teeth on the other hand-

Damian kept hitting him. 

“Get off of him!” one of the other students yelled. Damian had forgotten other children were in the classroom. 

“Oh my god!”

“Where did the teacher go?”

Titus was barking and trying to get closer. 

He could get hurt. He hesitated.

Damian was naive to think that Adams wouldn’t have older friends. 

A punch flew to the side of his face and he would be embarrassed to admit that it landed well. The momentum forced him off of Adams, who was now trying to get up from the floor. Damian intended to get up just the same until another older boy kicked him in the back. 

The situation was complicated. 

Damian obviously had the skills to take out three teenagers without thinking twice about it. Skills weren’t the reason why he stopped fighting back. 

“You can defend yourself, Damian. Forget what Bruce says” Tim told him after picking him up from school a few months ago. 

“But father said-”

“Bruce wants to protect your identity and background. You can do that and fight back” Tim interrupted before he could argue. “Regular kids fight too, just don’t exceed what would be possible for the average Gothamite. Fight dirty.” 

Fighting dirty didn’t really work when one of the boys lifted him up by the shirt collar. 

Titus growled and snapped. 

Damian was dropped back to the floor. 

“That dog is huge!” One of the boys commented. Damian’s head was swimming a bit too much to really see what the state of the classroom had become but he had a hunch that his dog was a scary animal to the average child. 

“Get a teacher!”

“No! Then we’ll all be in trouble”

Damian ignored them and blindly reached for Titus’ lead when the dog came to lick his face clean of the blood that dripped from his nose. He nearly missed it but Titus picked up the lead with his mouth and placed it in his hand. 

“What do we do?”

Damian didn’t want to stick around and find out. 

He stumbled to his feet, ignoring Leland’s offers to help him, and shoved his way out of the classroom. He walked with Titus, leaning on the hallway walls until they hit a closet that was thankfully unlocked. He opened the door and fell through, sitting on his knees on the floor trying to catch his breath. 

Everything is ruined. 

Alfred had brought back the paints for him after a trip to England. They wouldn’t be easy to replace and even if he could, they wouldn’t be the same. 

He was going to fail art. The only class he liked. 

They’d suspend him for causing a fight…again. 

Leland needs therapy. 

I’m too injured for patrol. His breath was hitching as he cried, causing the bruises on his back to ache. I’m going to fail art and still not be able to be of any use. 

I ruined everything. 

All he had to do was keep his mouth shut. 

If he could’ve ignored Adams and let Leland take the full fault of his parents’ divorce then none of this would’ve happened. He could’ve just let Leland get slightly harassed and finished his painting without any trouble at all. 

“Do I have to choose? I would much rather we were all together” 

Except, he knew exactly how it felt to be the center of a divorce and every word thrown at Leland felt like a knife twist in a fresh wound. 

He didn’t notice how much Titus had been moving until the Great Dane had set his head on Damian’s lap in an effort to stop him from curling up. The pressure didn’t help nearly enough, but it caught Damian’s attention enough for him to see around the room. Just beside him was his backpack that, based on the drool markings, Titus had carried for him from the classroom. 

Why couldn’t mother and father just stay together? Why wasn’t I enough for them to stay together? He felt like his head was pounding. D*mn it. I need treatment. Prolonging this state was only going to make recovery longer which meant more time spent benched. 

Titus’ whining forced Damian to try and gain control of his senses, breathing through the emotions that had built up in his chest. 

“It’s alright boy” Damian whispered, patting Titus’ head. Titus did not think it was alright and began nudging his head towards Damian’s backpack. 

What are you after?  

He took as deep a breath as he could manage as he leaned over and opened his backpack. Titus immediately took the lead and stood up in the much too small room to put his entire head in Damian’s bag. He emerged in a moment with Damian’s phone in his mouth, holding it by his face for Damian to take. 

“I don’t want to” Damian sighed, wiping his face clean. 

Titus dropped the phone in his lap and grumbled. A fair warning that he would bark and give away their location if he didn’t take the phone. 

“You’re a stubborn dog” Damian grumbled in return picking up the phone. 

Who do I call? Damian knew well enough to know that his classmates likely reported to the teacher that he had run away. They wouldn’t say anything about the fight in order to protect Adams and his hooligan friends. 

Dick and Jason are out of town and Tim and father are likely both at work. Titus whined before settling back on Damian’s lap. 

“Alright, alright.” He whispered hitting the ‘call’ button on Wayne Enterprise. 

The phone rang once. 

“Hi you’ve reached Wayne Enterprise, this is Tim Drake’s office?” Shelby Meadows, his brother’s assistant, answered. 

“Ms. Meadows, it’s Damian. Is Drake in at the moment?” he asked desperately hoping he would be. 

“Oh, hello Damian. Your brother’s in a meeting with Queen Industries and cannot be reached. Is there a message I can give him for you?” She responded politely and Damian let his head lean back to bang against the wall. 

I hate you, Drake. “That won’t be necessary.” 

“Would you like me to transfer you to your Father’s office? I just checked the schedule and it appears he just finished his last meeting for the day.”

He wanted to hang up but he also wanted to go home. 

“Fine. Thank you.”

“Of course” she replied easily. 

Damian was on hold for approximately one minute before his father answered. 

“Damian, you should be in art.”

I see that Meadows is still in the habit of disclosing phone information prior to transferring phone calls. “I know” Damian answered trying to make sure his tone stayed even. 

Evidently, Damian hadn’t done a good enough job. 

“What’s wrong?”  Bruce’s question sounded a bit panicked, in Batman standards, and Damian could tell from the shuffling that he was already moving around his office. 

World’s greatest detective. “Can you-” Damian paused when he thought his voice would crack, “come get me?”

“I’m already on my way. I can be there in ten minutes. Are you hurt?” 

Ten minutes? He must be taking the Zeta tubes. “Yes,” he admitted sniffling a bit since it was obvious his father already knew he was upset. He reached to pet Titus behind the ears as a distraction from the pain. “I ruined everything” he whispered and he immediately heard his father hushing him. 

“Not possible.” Bruce corrected instantly. “Where are you injured? Did someone attack the school?” 

“No” he denied. An attack on the school would’ve been much easier. “Bruising on my back, cut lip, and probable broken nose.” Damian stopped his petting to reach up and feel his nose. Definitely broken. 

“Were you in a fight with a teacher?” his father asked sounding angry now. 

It reminded Damian of his first attempt at public schooling in his first year in Gotham. Bruce picked him up twice for starting fights with those who had insulted their family honor, before pulling him out of school for homeschooling. Bruce lectured him for hours in frustration, confused by his inability to hold back on civilians. 

“No, classmates,” he confessed trying not to think about how quickly Bruce’s anger would likely be directed at him. After all, he had gotten involved when he didn’t have to and then provoked Adams into fighting him. 

“Who?” 

“Doesn’t matter. Father-”

“It does matter” Bruce interrupted. “Are you still in class? Where was your teacher? How many were there?” 

“How soon till you get here?” Damian asked instead.

“I’m approaching the zeta now. Where are you?” 

“Closet. Down the hall from class.”

His phone disconnected before his father could ask any other questions. He set the phone back on the floor and resumed petting Titus. The Great Dane still seemed tense but was no longer making any additional noise in their small shared space. 

How do you know what phones are? “Good boy” Damian whispered. “Whatever would I do without you?” 

The door to the closet slammed open to reveal a very disheveled Bruce Wayne. 

His tie was thrown over his shoulder and his shoes appeared to be scuffed from concrete or running. To Damian, it was a clear sign that he had run from the zeta tubes to the school grounds. Most definitely not having stopped at the office to check in as a guardian or to alert the staff that he would be taking Damian home. 

Because he isn’t taking you home a voice in Damian’s mind echoed. He’s leaving you here.

Father wouldn’t do that. Damian argued with himself.

“I’m sorry” he whispered when Bruce just stared.

I’m sorry I failed.

“No” his father denied, snapping out of his stillness to come into the small space and shut the door behind them, giving them some semblance of privacy. “Don’t apologize. Titus, up” he commanded easily and the great dane moved off of Damian’s lap to sit three feet away in the corner. It gave Bruce just enough space to kneel in front of Damian and begin inspecting his face. 

Damian hissed when his father touched his nose and couldn’t help when his eyes welled up again. 

“Sorry,” Bruce whispered gently whipping away one of his tears when it fell. Damian had expected his father to look angry but in the moment he seemed sad more than anything else. “We’ll get that taken care of as soon as we get home.” 

Damian nodded understanding that Alfred would likely be the best to set his nose. 

“You’re covered in paint.”

No sh*t. Damian couldn’t help but huff an almost laugh at the comment and nodded again. “He pushed me into my art final. My watercolors are on the classroom floor” he admitted feeling like crying again at the loss of one of his favorite presents. 

“Who?” Bruce asked quietly for the second time.

It was a dangerous question. It was obviously fueled by a very restrained anger based on the vein popping out of Bruce’s head. Damian knew the answer would likely sentence Admas to a very unfortunate life. Particularly because it wasn’t really his father he was talking to anymore. No. 

Batman was the one asking questions now. 

He was using the same voice he used on child domestic violence victims and Damian had seen what happened to the perpetrators on those cases. 

Or, at least he’d seen the police reports, he wasn’t allowed to watch in person. 

Adams is a child. Part of his thoughts criticized. A civilian child. 

“I’m an assassin, Grayson. That’s all I’ve ever been” Damian seethed one night, frustrated with his inability to relax. 

“You are a child” Dick snapped back easily. “That’s what you’ve been. Children cannot take the responsibility of adults. Not while I’m in charge.” 

“Adams” Damian whispered because he was a child too and for that matter, so was Leland. “He called me Dune” he added knowing it was fuel on a fire. “I’m probably suspended.”

His father just shook his head and gently pat his knee. “I’ll have him expelled. Him and his friends who did this. Don’t worry about the school.” 

Sorry Adams. 

“I’m going to fail art.” Damian forced trying not to let his emotions clog his vocal tract. 

“I’ll help you talk to the teacher, we’ll work it out.”

“My paints are ruined.”

“We’ll replace them. Maybe you and Alfred can go together.”

With each of his worries, Damian felt his eyes welling even as Bruce collected his backpack and phone for him. He gave the bag to Titus who easily grabbed the handles in his mouth so that his father's arms would be free. 

“It won’t be the same” Damian cried sniffling a bit and Bruce nodded. 

“I know, Habibi. I’m sorry.” he agreed and Damian tried not to react to his mother’s favorite nickname for him. “Can I hold you?” Bruce asked gently and Damian nodded.

“My back hurts” he warned and Bruce hummed as he carefully picked Damian up. Damian wrapped his arms around his father’s neck and stuffed his face into his shoulder. 

“Come Titus” Bruce called as he stood for the both of them and began to walk out of the school. 

Damian didn’t bother looking up. He didn’t want to see if any teachers or students had come out to gawk at him. He could hear Titus’ claws hitting the title and echoing in the hallway and that told him enough about how close they were to the doors. If there was anyone who wanted to say anything, they didn’t do so with his father around. 

It was silent until they made it back to the car and Damian was gently set in the passenger’s seat of a black Maserati that he had never seen before. His back ached against the leather but he willed himself to stay still so that his father could buckle him in and settle Titus on the floorboards before going around to the driver’s side. 

“We’ll have to go to the hospital so that I can file a formal report with the city and we can get your injuries treated. Is that ok?” Bruce asked, putting the car in drive. 

He needs to make sure there are legal records. Damian hated public medical care with a passion but there was never a day that he would purposefully try to make a problem he caused his father to be worse. He nodded in response and stared out the window as Bruce promptly exceeded Metropolis speed limits. 

The silence was suffocating. His father kept a hand on his during the drive to try and offer comfort but they both knew he wasn’t the best at words. If Damian didn’t offer to talk, Bruce never pushed him to. 

All for the best. There’s nothing that can be said. He let his head fall against the rest and used his free hand to pet Titus. Art is over. My paints are gone. I can’t be Robin until I’ve healed. I had a breakdown at school. 

Mother and Father are divorced. 

“Tim and Alfred will meet us at the hospital. When it’s over we can go get some Kanafeh.” Bruce informed him giving his hand a small squeeze. The offer to get Damian’s favorite dessert from home showed the amount of worry going through his mind. 

I wonder if he ever had Kanafeh with mother. If they enjoyed their time together before I made it ‘complicated.’ 

“I’ve been thinking about how you might feel about homeschooling,” Bruce spoke, clearly trying to get engagement. “Alfred mentioned you used to enjoy your lessons with him-”

It may not have been my choice.

“He would have no problem working with you, and Tim even thought that-”

But their fights were still my fault. 

“-you two could do some extra training after work-”

“I’m sorry” Damian interrupted and he felt his Father’s hand tighten.

“Damian-” 

“To you and mother” He added. I’m done thinking about it without saying anything. Dick had taught him that it was much better to just talk about it. Jason said that Dick made him an emotional child. 

Tim said Damian was born that way. 

“For ruining everything.” he finished and he felt the car come to a harsh stop. His head snapped up to find they were outside the hospital but Bruce wasn’t getting out of the car instead, he reached over the center console to put a hand on Damian’s face. 

 “You did no such thing.”

“Leland’s parents are getting divorced” Damian explained desperate to make his father understand his apology. To hear him. He brought up his hand to meet his father's and took it off his cheek. “Children make things complicated. People don’t just stop loving each other” he continued, wiping his face between defenses. 

“Damian-”

“I couldn’t keep up with the both of you” he cried trying to keep his voice going. “I hate having to choose. Leland will have to pick between his parents too.” He’ll probably choose his mom. 

“Who is Leland?” Bruce asked sounding more confused than the last time Tim tried to explain the plot of his last Star Trek episode. 

Oh. “My classmate. Keep up father” he snapped feeling like his crisis was being ignored. 

Bruce sighed and drew Damian out of his spiraling thoughts. His father looked sad and tired. He grabbed Damian’s hands, rubbing his thumb down his knuckles before he spoke. 

“Damian, your mother and I had many issues far before you were born.”

That doesn’t make me feel any better. Arguably, that’s much worse. 

 Bruce looked strained as he stared up at the sky for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “You have her eyes, you know?” he complimented and Damian couldn’t tell if that was good or if it meant his father was pained when he looked at him. 

Maybe a bit of both. 

“I loved your mother, and I still care a great deal about her, but that’s not because we were ever going to live a long happy life together.” 

You stay with the people you care about. Damian bit his cheek as he watched Bruce search for words that seemed to flow at a turtle's pace. 

“I care about her because she is the mother of my child that I treasure more than life.” Bruce settled, and Damian felt his cheeks go red as he tried to look away. Of course, his father wouldn’t let him run from the conversation now. They were both in too deep. He put a hand on his shoulder and continued. “Before you came along, the last time I had spoken to Talia, for a real conversion, Damian it had been years. The only reason I keep any contact at all is because I love you.” 

“And I love both of you” Damian pushed, not understanding how two people could love him so fiercely and not be able to be around each other. Just for the small things. Just for his art shows or his chess matches. “Mother loves me-”

“She does” Bruce instantly agreed. 

“-and she loves you. If I didn’t change it, what did?” he asked afraid of the answer. His father seemed to be thinking the same thing based on his face. It was the Batman equivalent of seeing a crowbar when Jason was on patrol. 

“I want you to always be who you are. You have so much compassion and care and it's beautiful.” his father complimented and Damian felt nauseous from the praise. It was wonderful. “But your mother, is not like that. She has passion and strength like you, but without empathy. She loves you unlike I’ve ever seen her love anything else and I can see how much she tries, but ultimately she and I want very different things. Both for the world, and for you.”

“I miss her” Damian confessed. “Sometimes I want to go home. Where the food is perfect and everyone speaks a language I understand intricately.” He looked and saw his father looked at a loss for words at that. I can’t help but miss it. Even if I hate it. 

“But I don’t miss feeling like one of the assassins would try to test me by killing me as I slept. I don’t miss when failing meant that mother was at the other end of grandfathers wrath as I hid like a coward,” he added, both trying to assure his father and himself that he couldn’t go back. Even if he wanted to. 

“You were a child. Not a coward. There’s a difference” Bruce corrected gently. 

“You just carried me out of a broom closet because I was pushed into paint” Damian pointed out and his father smiled. 

“We both know this was not just over spilled paint.” 

“No sh*t.” 

“Language” Bruce chided before giving his shoulder a squeeze and dropping his hands. “Our family has never been very good at talking, but you can always talk to me. I’ll tell you a million times that I love you and that your mother does as well. Divorce doesn’t mean we aren’t still family, even if it’s not in the way you want.” 

Damian nodded and wiped his face for what felt like the hundredth time. “I know” he whispered and his father nodded. 

“Good” he leaned over and kissed Damian’s head before getting out of the car. 

Oh right. Hospital. His door was opened and Damian rolled his eyes before getting on Bruce’s back to be carried inside. 

“Come Titus” Bruce called and Damian saw over his shoulder that Titus followed without hesitation. 

“Don’t forget you promised Kanafeh.”

“Of course”

“Are you really pulling me out of school?”

He felt his father’s steps slow for a moment by the door. “Did you want to stay?”

“h*ll no” 

“Thank God.”

Chapter Text

Damian had been trying to sleep when his phone, the one he hid under his bed in a shoe box, began to ring. 

Only one person had the number on that phone. Mother. He forced Titus off of him and lunged over the edge of his bed to hang down and find the box. It was only seconds before the phone was in his hands and he was answering the call. 

“Umi?” He answered hesitantly, his voice sounding odd from barely being awake. 

“Hello Habibi.”

Damian felt his stomach grow warm and a smile grace his face at the sound of his mother’s voice. He hadn’t heard from her in far too long. Three months by his count. He had wanted to call often, but didn’t want to compromise his mother’s location or position. So, he was left to send her text messages every week with updates on how he was doing. 

When he got the phone call, he remembered he hadn’t sent one before going to bed like he normally would do on Fridays.  

“My love, do you know why your father felt the need to pull you out of that wretched school without informing me?” she asked sweetly. 

D*mn it. Of course, she had checked his school records when he didn’t check-in. “I finally convinced him that your schooling was more than enough for educational standards. My talents were wasted there” He lied easily trying to forget about the paint stains that would never come out of his uniform. 

Damian rarely lied to his mother. She had always taught him to report honestly and for the most part, he listened. However, Damian knew his mother very well and he knew that if she discovered what Adams and his friends had done, they would turn up dead. 

Damian wasn’t actively seeking the death of civilian children. 

“I see,” Talia replied sounding unconvinced. “It seems odd to me that he would do it so suddenly without speaking with me first if it was merely your arguments.”  

If I don’t give a better answer, she’ll check the school security footage and then Adams is f*cked. “There may have been a small altercation today but I handled it.” He admitted. If Mother looks at the feeds, she’ll see that Father carried me out of school. His face burned at the mere thought of it all. “Afterwards Father felt there wasn’t a need to keep me enrolled.”

He heard his mother release a frustrated sigh. 

She’s mad then. 

“Why the H*ll did I bother with that animal if your father was going to hide you at home regardless?”

….

What? 

“Animal?” He asked confused and yet staring at Titus, who still laid across the bed staring back at him.

Where did you go when I was away?

Duke knows he’s had training but he wasn’t privy to who or when

Titus had gotten training from somewhere. Training that was helping.

I haven’t ever told anyone that lights bother me . 

Someone knows far too much about me. 

The thoughts he’d had since camp came back to him in a mass horde as realization struck him. 

“Titus. Surely he was with you?” Talia asked. 

Holy Sh*t. 

Mother trained Titus. How? Why? “I- uh-” Damian stuttered trying to find his voice. She’d never admit to weakness. Her own or mine. Why would she willingly train a dog just for that? How does she even know what a service dog is?  “Ummi-”

“Was he not with you?” She asked sounding more upset. “Drake had assured me that he would be able to guard you even as a civilian. Was that a lie?” 

Drake you son of a b*tch. 

“No mother” he answered quickly. There was no need for Tim and Talia to get into a fight over something so inconsequential. As amusing as it would be to find out which of them would win. “I had Titus with me. He did excellently, father is just dramatic.” That much, was entirely true. 

Talia laughed and Damian felt some of his concern fade. It was rare he got to hear her happy. “That, I believe” She agreed. “He’s always been a bit too emotional for his own good.” 

And you can never pass the opportunity to say something bad about him. Damian’s smile faded a bit as he settled back against the headboard. “Mother, how did Drake convince you to train Titus?” he couldn’t help but ask, both for his curiosity and to change the topic. 

“I don’t understand.” Talia deadpanned staring at the great dane Tim Drake had brought to her front door. “How is this thing going to help my son?” 

It was a rarity for any of her beloved’s children to visit her. Mostly because they all despised her greatly and judged her parenting. When one of them did show up it was often because she did something that they deemed ‘irredeemable.’ Not to bring a dog and tell her to train it to do odd things. 

“Listen, Damian wouldn’t trust just anyone to train him, so I’m asking you to do it.” Drake told her plainly. “I hate you, but I love Damian so this is my compromise. Damian is struggling with anxiety, mostly caused by you might I add, and this is something you can do to help.”

How dare he. Talia felt rage grow in her soul. I protected Damian when no one else could. “Damian is perfect unlike you, Drake. How dare you-”

“He is perfect” he agreed speaking over her. “But not in the way you seem to insist. He’s in pain Talia. As much as you want to deny it, it’s there and if you love him, you’ll do this for him.”

Drake you son of a b*tch. She looked down at the dog, pleased her son had selected such a wonderful name and large breed. The animal looked like it could fight if taught correctly. She glanced back at the bat in front of her and sighed. “F*ck you” she told him first but grabbed the leash being offered to her. 

“He needs to know DPT, anxiety alerts, and how to find someone to help in an emergency. Please don’t teach him anything else.” Drake told her and Talia smiled already beginning to walk away. 

“We’ll see.”

I know my son better than you ever could, Drake. 

She knew that Damian needed more than just comfort. Titus would know how to protect him in every sense of the word. Just in case he needed it when Talia couldn’t come.  

 “He said it was for you, Habibi. I would do anything for you” Talia answered and Damian felt his face grow hot. 

The line was quiet for a minute before Damian gathered the courage to talk. “I want to see you.” he requested. “It’s been-”

“Three months. I know” She interrupted. 

She’s been counting the days too then. For some reason that made Damian feel better. 

“Your grandfather has me doing important work at the moment my love. I cannot be away.” She explained and Damian felt his back tense. 

He hated hearing about Ra’s. He hated thinking about the fact that while he had escaped, his mother could not. Refused to. She was bound to him in a way that Damian couldn’t help. What is he doing to you? Are you safe? What could you be doing for three months? How long until it's over? “I shall come to you then” He settled. 

“No Damian,” Talia ordered instantly. 

“Ummi, I can-

“No. It is too dangerous for you to be here” She interupted not willing to hear his arguments. “Even if you were feeling well, I never would allow you to come with me for a mission like this.”

She knows I’m hurt. “Ummi, I’m fine. I can help you. If it’s that awful then you shouldn’t be doing it alone. I’ll just-”

“Damian” she snapped and he felt his tongue go dry. 

Discussion over. 

“You are not to come here. Do you understand me?” she asked but Damian knew the warning in her tone. There wasn’t an option. 

“Yes, mother.” he whispered, noting that Titus had slipped out of his room during their conversation. He was alone staring at the door to his balcony. If I could find her maybe then I could help. 

“I will see you as soon as time allows. Don’t forget to send me reports,” she ordered and he nodded even though she couldn’t see. 

“Yes, mother.”

There was a quiet and then, “Ana Ahibuk, Habibi.”

“Ana Ahibuk, Ummi, but-”

She hung up on him. 

He threw the phone against the wall, even more frustrated when it survived the blow with no damage. 

F*ck. His chest heaved as he stood from his mattress and contemplated how much trouble he would be in if he used his sword to slice up his room. Again. 

“Woah.”

Damian eyes snapped up to see that Tim was standing in the doorway, Titus beside him, staring at him. 

“Who were you talking to?” Tim asked and Damian’s chest stuttered. 

He was so exhausted. The day had been emotionally tiring from school to having his father explain why Damian was pulled out of school at a family dinner. It was all awful. Then to top it off he ruined his one phone call with his mother by trying to see her. Asking to see her shouldn’t ruin everything. 

I miss her. 

Damian shoved his hands up to his eyes as he started crying. It seemed to be all he was good at doing lately. His chest gasped as he tried to block out his vision and rub away the emotions that coated his cheeks.

“sh*t” he heard Tim curse. It didn’t take long for his brother to close the distance and try to pull him in for a hug. 

Damian pushed him away. 

“Back the f*ck off” he snarled feeling like a hug would suffocate him. 

Feeling angry. 

Drake is the reason for all of this. He contacted Mother and didn’t bring me. He felt betrayed. Far more than when he realized they trained Titus without asking. This was much worse. He saw her. As Tim tried to demonstrate deep breathing for him Damian ran a hand through his hair. 

He knows where she is.

“Are your injuries acting up? I shouldn’t have touched without-” Tim tried to ask gently but Damian just wiped his face and glared at him. 

“Where is she?” 

Tim, still in his coffee-stained pajama top, only stared at him confused. Damian didn’t miss that he clearly had his emergency comm in just in case. A wrong move and his entire family would be here in a second. 

He couldn’t have that if he was going to leave. 

“Where is who?” Tim asked using a voice normally reserved for when Damian was high on fear toxin. 

“Don’t try to placate me.” pity me. He turned away, injured groaning at all the motion so that he could grab his katana from where it lay under his bed. “I won’t take any of your lies. Where is Mother?”  he demanded once he was standing with his blade. 

Tim’s posture stiffened and straightened after that. He dropped his outreached arms and leveled his gaze toward the weapon in Damian’s hand. 

“You’re shaking”

At least that’s what Damian had assumed his brother was looking at. 

D*mn it. Tim was right. Looking at his hand, his sword was unsteady from the tremors that racked his body. He was emotionally compromised. 

“Where is she?” Damian asked again, aware that his voice cracked at the end of his question. 

“Put the sword down.” Tim ordered.

“F*ck you” he seethed. 

“Damian, you need to calm down. Me forcing the sword out of your hands isn’t going to help but I will do it” his brother warned. “We both know who wins out of the two of us when you’re like this.”

It was a clear reference to the last training session they’d had. Damian had been absolutely enraged that Tim had decided to exclude him on a case just because there was child abuse involved. He’d wanted to prove that he could handle it and that Tim was exaggerating. 

Tim won. 

When you’re like this. The words cut Damian even further than he’d already been for the night. It always comes back to me being the problem. He wasn’t going to let all the blame go to him though, not when Tim was right in front of him. 

“Surely you’ve pieced it together already. You’re the smart one, aren’t you?” 

“Damian, the sword-”

“Answer me” Damian pled more than ordered. He didn’t feel strong enough to order even if he was too angry to fully beg. 

Tim sighed and held out a hand. “Pass me the sword, I answer you” he offered and Damian didn’t hesitate to put the hilt in Tim’s hands. His brother was quick to slide the blade across his carpeted floor before coming to stand directly in front of him. 

Damian still pushed his hands off when they went to examine his facial injuries from earlier in the day. “Don’t touch me.” he whispered. I don’t want your comfort.  “Where is she?”

“I don’t know” 

“bullsh*t” 

“I don’t, Damian. I’m sorry but I haven’t heard or seen her in-”

“Two months” Damian answered for him. “When you took Titus to her during my summer camp with Jon.”

Damian hadn’t thought it was possible for Tim to look more uncomfortable and yet, he did. A clear sign of guilt. Their entire family would react pretty much the same when confronted with their lies or mistakes. Tense up. Get ready to run, or fight depending on who it was. 

Tim always fought.

Damian always ran.

“How did you find out?” Drake asked instead of denying it. 

“Do you always think me an idiot, Drake?” 

Drake looked like he wanted to argue but instead let the silence linger, giving Damian time to properly respond. “Titus knows tricks he shouldn’t. Things you wouldn’t have known to teach him. Beyond that, Mother told me as much. You met her without me and told her things that were not yours to share.” Told her I was weak. 

Sharing weakness with his brothers was one thing. He’d only just become comfortable with seeking out his father, he sure as h*ll never planned on telling his mother. His mother who used to lock him in a closet if he cried for too long as a toddler. His mother who pleaded with him to not complain about injuries. 

His mother who injured him for complaining. 

“Talia wanted to help and you wouldn’t have wanted us to leave Titus with someone-”

“You don’t know that” Damian interrupted. Not yelling. Just certain. “Because you didn’t f*cking ask me.” 

“This isn’t about Titus. It’s about Talia. She called you? Why?” Drake argued and Damian scoffed. 

“Why should I tell you? So you can go to Father and tell him?” I’m not falling for that. The comm in Drake's ear would bring his father home in minutes. The second he could find a zeta tube. “Just tell me where she is Drake.”

“I don’t know-”

“Yes you do!” he screamed and his tears began to spill over at his brother’s stubbornness. 

They were both quiet and still for a moment as Drake just calmly stared at him. 

Then, he was pulled into a hug. 

No you mother f*cker. Damian immediately started trying to hit him but was only met by a stronger grip and a hand cupping the back of his head. It was gentle and firm and it made his stomach do flips in the confusion. 

“I hate you. You know where she is” Damian told him venomously trying to shake out of the hold with no luck. It made the injuries on his back burn. 

“I can find out” Tim agreed and Damian stopped moving as much so that he could hear him over his panting breaths and sniffles. “But I’m not going to. I’m sorry.”

“Son of a b*tch” Damian cursed still angry and stiff. They would rather die than help Mother . Damian wasn’t sure why he was surprised. It was no secret that all of his siblings hated Talia with a burning passion and would do anything to keep Damian away from her forever. Dick pretended that he understood, but it was so obvious that he didn’t. Damian saw the way his brother would flinch when he told his childhood stories. 

“Stop moving, you’re making your injuries act up,” Tim told him and Damian continued to wriggle out of spite. 

“f*ck you”

“Ok” Tim agreed, and Damian tried to calm his breathing and tears. Crying wasn’t helping. Tim was clearly only trying to pacify him. “You can yell at me just don’t hurt yourself.” 

Deplorable. “I don’t need permission to yell at you” Damian muttered and was even more enraged by the hand Tim was running gently up and through his hair. Angered that it was helping. “I don’t need your help. I’ll figure out where she is on my own.” As soon as I get enough strength to break out of this hold. 

 “Why do you need to know?” Tim asked gently and Damian felt himself freeze. 

If I tell him, He’ll stop me. 

“You cannot go where she is” 

Took too long to answer. “You don’t get to decide that” He countered pulling away from the hug as far as Tim would let him. His brother shifted to keeping a hand on his wrist so that he couldn’t fully escape. It was a clever move in the sense that if he continued the hug, Damian would’ve found a way to stab him. 

“What did she tell you? She called just to talk about Titus and what? Does she want you to do something for her?” Tim demanded looking more on-guard than he had a moment ago. 

Damian couldn’t blame him. Tim knew well enough to understand that if Damian wanted to leave, he would find a way to do it. He’d escaped before and the new manor upgrades wouldn’t keep him from doing it again. 

Screw Deathstroke’s hit, no one could keep him from his mother. 

“You are not to come here. Do you understand me?” 

“No” Damian admitted feeling some of his fire die. 

Ummi doesn’t want me there. Ordered me not to go. 

No one could keep his mother away from him, except Talia herself. Like she’d done so many times before. 

“That doesn’t matter” he denied trying to will himself to steady. He’d ignored her orders in the past. 

She was furious. 

“It does” Tim argued, but Damian could hear his tone shift to pity. His brother could read him too well. “She told you to stay here, didn’t she.”

It was phrased as a question, but they both knew he wasn’t really asking. 

“This is all your fault” Damian blamed using his free hand to scrub his face, aggravating his healing nose as he did so.  “You should’ve taken me with you. She needs me”

“Is she in trouble?” Tim asked gently. 

Damian hesitated. He looked at the window and debated if he could just leave tomorrow night and tell Tim to forget it all. 

Titus brushed against his hand as he let it fall from his face. He looked down to see that the Great Dane had joined their rather heated discussion and was nudging his leg with his nose. 

Anxiety alert. Damian had googled what the signal meant and sighed when Titus decided to use it. How astute of you Titus. I never could’ve guessed that I’m panicking. He pet Titus for a minute and then nodded. 

“She says it’s too dangerous for me to see her” he whispered voice cracking. 

Tim dropped his wrist. Damian took the opportunity to fully focus on petting Titus, slowly moving to sit on the floor in front of him. Tim followed suit and sat beside them. Damian felt his desire to see his brother bleed drop more as the time went on. 

“She’s probably right.” Tim agreed. “You’re still injured from those little pricks. Did she say she needed help?” 

“No, but if it’s too dangerous for me to come then-”

“She shouldn’t deal with it alone, right?” Tim finished and Damian felt like he finally understood the urgency of the situation. Tim nodded and began to move for his phone that rested in his pocket. 

“Don't tell father!” Damian objected quick to fling himself toward his brother to grab the phone. Unfortunately, Tim was quicker and caught Damian easily, situating him to sit in front of him, lying against his chest as he held the phone above them both. 

“Wasn’t going to” Tim instantly corrected. “I’m calling backup.”

Damian stayed quiet, trusting that Tim wouldn’t be stupid enough to call any bats if he didn’t want their father to know. Everyone in their family was too quick to snitch. Including Tim, but it was a bit late for that now. 

The phone rang once before the person on the other end picked up. Damian couldn’t tell who it was or what they answered with but he could hear Tim as his brother's chest rumbled behind him. “Constantine, I need you to check on someone for me.” 

Constantine? That’s the magician who’s spoken with Raven. Damian hadn’t personally dealt with the man but he’d heard he was well despised by most. 

“No I couldn’t care less but I need it done” Tim continued and Damian wished he knew the full extent of what was being said. “Talia Al Ghul…yes, I know….I’ll pay you for your trouble…call me when you know something.” and before he knew it the call was over and his brother was holding him again. Arms wrapped around him in a gentle hug. 

“He’s competent?”

“Enough” Tim confirmed. “I’ll take care of it.” 

“You should’ve taken me with you” Damian whispered as Titus moved to sit across both of them. 

“I’m sorry you can’t see her.”

“You told her things she didn’t have to know.”

“She loves you Damian, and as much as I don’t want her to have anything to do with you, it’s not really up to me. Bruce promised that she would have access to your medical records and part of that includes your-”

“Freakouts?” Damian answered. “My inability to deal with minute consequences of life?” 

“Your very normal reactions to trauma.” Tim finished. “If I were her, I’d want the chance to help. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you, but I’m not sorry that I did it.” 

As Damian pet his dog, leaning further back against Tim he found himself agreeing. 

This wasn’t the worst thing. 

“I  miss her”  Damian confessed and his brother held him a little tighter. 

“Sometimes, I miss my mom too.” 

Yet, they both knew why their mothers should never have had children. What a strange thing to bond over. 

“I don’t hate you” Damian corrected finally, feeling completely drained. 

“I love you too.”

Yeah, this wasn’t the worst thing at all. 

One Year Later

Damian smiled at his landscape of Kent farm, displayed beautifully in the Gotham art gallery. 

After winning his school’s art contest he couldn’t deny them the pleasure of showing off his work at the gallery. Not when his father had been so ecstatic to see him engaging in a normal hobby. Besides, it had been Damian's first large accomplishment at his new school and who was he to deprive them of his talents. 

He was meant to meet Dick here so that they could walk aroudn the gallery together, but unfortunately his oldest brother had ascertained a GSW the morning of and was unable to make it. Just a graze but still enough that Damian told him not to worry about their plnas. He was more than pleased that his brother remembered the gallery at all. At 14 he was more than old enough to see the gallery on his own. 

Did he promise Dick that he’d call Tim to come with him instead? Yes. 

Is he doing that? No. 

“Are you the artist?” Someone asked and Damian turned to find one of the gallery staff looking at his piece.

“Yes. Damian Wayne” he introduced holding a hand for him to shake.

“Pleasure” the man greeted in return giving his hand a quick shake before resuming his observations of Damian’s painting. “It’s beautifully done. Are you planning to pursue painting?”

Painting? As a professional choice? Absurd. “No. My father, as I’m sure you know, is a business man. I’ll be joining Wayne Industries soon.” He answered. It would be soon too. Damian only had two more years before he was finally of working age in the U.S. Not that he had ever listened to American laws in the past, but it would make his father happier. 

“Yes, I’m sure everyone in Gotham knows Bruce Wayne” the man agreed but Damian could tell that he wasn’t in complete agreement with all he had said. He let his sentence linger openly for too long. “But not every child follows what their parent does. Beyond that, your older brother is the CEO right? Surely that must mean you have other aims.” 

Damian felt himself stiffen just a bit and he found himself folding his hands differently than before. Ever so slightly fiddling with the metal ring on his finger, a nervous habit he’d picked up from the moment Cassandra had gifted it to him. 

Other aims. Sure, Damian had thought about what he wanted to be. In fact, for a long time it was all he thought about. The majority of his life his only goal was to take over the League of Assassins, but that was crushed when he moved to Gotham and was disowned by his grandfather. He shifted his gaze to the Batman, content with fighting in a different way, only to find that the role of Batman was more complicated than he’d hoped. His brother showed him that Batman wasn’t something that someone could do alone, and more importantly, it can never be all that you are. 

With that in mind, Damian assumed that he’d be Batman by night and business man by day. It seemed to work for his father and Tim. It was respectable and his mother didn’t much care what he decided to do outside of the suit. As long as he still fought well and could come when she needed him that was all that mattered. 

Your brother is CEO. Companies don’t need two CEO’s. His father already managed things that Tim was too busy for. To this man’s point, there wasn’t a need for him to be a part of the company. When Bruce retired, Tim would take over control and Damian didn’t see the need to try and demand some part of it from his brother. Not when he’d seen how hard he worked. 

Where does that leave me?

He felt leather and fur rub against his hand and looked down to find Titus was passing Damian his lead. He grabbed it and frowned when the great dane nudged his hip. Anxiety alert. How astute. He supposed thinking about his life’s plans was probably pretty quick to cause anxiety and it was good that Titus was able to tell. Best to avoid this for now. 

“Timothy does an excellent job with managing things, yes. I’m only fourteen so we have time to decide what roles are needed.” He answered, aware that his spiral probably cuased him to wait an unreasonable amont of time before answering. 

“Don’t tell me Mr. Wayne doesn’t approve of the arts? If that’s the case I’d be happy to convince him that you’d be a very successful artist.” The man offered and Damian shook his head. 

This man, meet father? A disaster waiting to happen. Bruce didn’t tend to like anyone who came to speak with Damian that was over the age of twenty. “I’ve never asked father’s opinion of such trivial things, though he’s always supported my pursuits. Are you quite interested in seeing what I do with my career?” He asked in return. It is odd that a simple gallery worker would be so interested in just my piece. 

“Well I think everyone is interested to see what the youngest Wayne will do. Must be a lot of pressure.” 

It was that moment that Damian finally saw it. The little wire connected to the man’s ear. 

sh*t. Titus hit his hand again. He’s mic’d? Law enforcement? He looked quickly around the gallery room but didn’t see anything to be concerned over. No one from any of the crime families appeared to be present. No. something else. A reporter? The older Dmaian got, the more clever they seemed to become. Constantly interested in what he was doing with his life. The questions made sense if they were for a tabloid. 

Damian felt Titus’ lead pull out of his hand and looked down to see that his dog was fetching his backpack. He’d laid the bag against the wall his painting was resting on so that he could take in the art piece. Now, Titus was shoving his head inside and collecting Damian’s phone. 

“That’s quite the dog to be walking around an art gallery” The man commented and Damian just sighed as he grabbed his phone. Damian was tired of explaining to people what a service animal was and even more tired of denying their demands to know what was wrong with him that he needed one.

I suppose you’re right. We have to call someone. He rolled his eyes and dialed his emergency contact. 

“It’s a bit rude to igno-”

“Timothy” Damian greeted the minute the line connected, pretending he couldn't hear any bit of the sentence he’d just cut off. “You wouldn’t happen to be near city hall, would you?” He asked just loud enough for the threat to know that he had reported his location. While the press was most likely responsible, he couldn’t rule out hte possibility of the man being something more. 

Not since it was so obvious that Titus didn’t like him either. The great dane smoothly worked to sit between them. 

“I am, just finished a meeting with the mayor. Only about a block away. Aren’t you supposed to be there with Dick?” Tim answered and Damian hated that the man didn’t seem to move an inch from where he stood. 

“Cassandra couldn’t make it.” Someone is here.

“Who’s with you?” Tim demanded and Damian was glad to hear the sound of a roller chair being pushed away. His brother was coming. 

 “I’m not sure. Titus isn’t very accustomed to this environment.” I don’t know but Titus doesn’t like him. 

“You don’t know them? Do they have any weapons? I’m not even two minutes” Tim asked, panting. Damian hoped that one of the paparazzi would get a picture of him running like a mad man. It would be funny later. 

“Unclear. Everyone seems to be enjoying my piece though. I’m hoping to be back in time for dinner.” I can’t tell. He was looking at my painting. I want to go home. Damian didn’t get to hear anymore questions because Titus had turned to the entry of the event. 

Tim Drake, papers dripping out his briefcase, tie hung over his shoulder, was jogging into the gallery hall until he was a directly between the staff and Damian. 

If God is real, there is a photo of this. Damian smiled and reached up to pull his brother’s tie back in place. “You were fast. Meeting let out early?” He asked as Tim leaned down to pick up some of the stray papers. He didn’t miss Tim’s gaze hovering over the strangers ankle before he stood back up.

“Something like that. You ready to go?” 

“Sure, let me grab my bag” Damian agreed easily moving away, content to be under Tim’s watch as he turned his back to the man. Well, Tim and Titus’ watch seeing as how the great dane stood closely behind him as he leaned down to grab his bag. 

He dropped everything when he heard Titus growl and the man fall to the floor. 

“What the f*** man?” the guy huffed scrambling to pick up what looked to be a tracker. Based on Titus’ position, it was fairly obvious that the man had failed to attach it Titus’ harness. 

“I think that’s my line” Tim said. 

Uh oh. 

“Were you about to put a tracker on a service animal? What breed of deranged are you?” Tim demanded and Damian didn’t waste time in picking his things back up to rush and grab Titus’ lead. “I hope you’re prepared to explain it to the police when they get here.” 

The Police? “Timothy, surely-” Damian tried to interrupt, coming close enough to grab Tim’s sleeve from where he was crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I’m just doing my job. Don’t shoot the messenger, the kid didn’t give me anything worth writing” The man tried to justify to the many people that were now gathering to watch. 

Titus bumped his hip. 

“And just who exactly hired you to prey on kids? That make you feel good when you sleep at night? Rest assured I’ll come after you and whatever paper or gossip column you work for.” Tim corrected and Damian pulled on his sleeve a bit harder. 

“Oh come on Wayne. The kid is old enough to handle a few questions. I didn’t make him talk to me.”

Titus bumped his hip again. 

“No, you just tried to track him. Which is for some strange reason, I seem to recall, illegal” Tim deadpanned. 

“Timothy” Damian spoke loud enough to be heard over both of them. His brother finally looked at him and Damian forced a neutral face, just in case there were camera’s waiting. “Can we go home?” He asked.

Get me out of here. 

“Oh.” Tim sighed and then glared at the man once more before nodding. “Right, yes. We can file a report later.” his brother agreed easily. Damian smiled a bit and held tight to Titus’ lead as they began to walk away. 

They were close to making it out without issue. 

“Oh and kid? Your painting sucks” 

Oh f***

And there went Tim. 

As Tim ran to punch the strange reporter into the marble floor of the exhibit, Damian found himself scratching Titus’ behind the ears. The sounds of people screaming didn’t seem to bother him so much as he found a wall for them to sit against. The floor was cool and distracting. 

“Help me!” The man screamed as Tim kicked him harder. 

Titus settled his head into Dmaian’s lap applying just the right amount of DPT. 

“Good boy” he whispered. 

“Dear god!” A woman cried and Damian rolled his eyes. 

“Alright” He said quietly patting Titus’ back. “Go help Tim” he ordered and grinned as his dog charged through the crowd of people. 

Eat him if you must.

Mother was going to love the front page of tomorrows Gazette.