Chapter Text
There will forever be a rift between father, mother and son.
Bruce, Talia and Damian. A family connected by blood not bond. A couple of parents who have no idea how to look after a child like Damian.
A child forced to grip a sword before his first word was ever muttered. A child with more deaths weighing on his mind then most, if not all average, or even advanced assassins will ever have.
A child who, for the first decade of his life, was pushed into the role of a weapon. An outstretched hand gripping the sword under his grandfathers command. To forever have blood staining his hands, even after so many washes; minutes spent scrubbing till skin is raw and red, yet the blood never leaves.
A child who was dumped at the doorstep of his father. The batman, a man who carries Gotham on his back with the help of his adoptive children. A man who never spent time explaining the differences between the League and the Manor. Just to then decide the best decision was to force the 10 year old ex-assassin into the role of Robin.
To just end up constantly screaming and lecturing him on how he is wrong, how he is dangerous and too aggressive. Forgetting how he has yet to explain the differences. Yet he expects a performance of rules he hasn't explained to Damian.
So yes, a rift separates the blood family of 3.
Yet somehow, under the years of emotional, physical and psychological abuse. Damian Al Ghul Wayne still loves his parents, still feels the need to chase approval and praise.
..
Well he did.
Did until he truly got to meet and understand his siblings.
Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Duke Thomas, Stephanie Brown and Cassandra Cain.
6 older siblings; Two who experienced similar childhoods to him (Jason and Cass).
2 who push him into acting like a kid his age ( Duke and Steph).
And 2 siblings; one who loved him from the very first moment he laid his eyes of the young assassin ( Dick). And one who helped Damian realise he belongs in this family, not as Robin or an Heir to a legacy and league. But belongs as himself ( Tim ).
So Damian, in the first time in his short life stopped chasing praise from his father and approval from his mother.
Stopped expecting proper and clear love from them.
And the young boy; with large emerald green eyes and dark tanned skin started to search it out in his siblings.
Delicate- " good job kid " and " I'm so proud of you dami! " that made the small boy grin in confidence and pride.
Touchs that didn't enforce pain, but purposeful affection. That came in head pats, hugs and forehead kisses. That had Damain blushing and sporting a shy smile.
Or simply being there, in ways neither parent ever did for him.
Damian started to drift more towards them. Seeking them out regularly to avoid his father and the expectations he carries. And way back in the past, it was Jason who 3 yearold damian ran to, in order to get away from his mother and her punishments.
And Damain thinks, that if he was forced to choose between his mother, father or siblings. That he would always choose his siblings, a million times, and again.
He just never imagined he would ever have to actually state it..
Never thought he would be forced to choose.
Damian sprinted though Gothams jungle of concrete structures.
His heart beating only a bit faster then normal as adrenalin started to die down, replaced by the need to rest.
But that shall wait till he arrives at the manor. He currently has to deal with whoever is on his trail.
He takes a quick jump down into an alleyway before taking a sharp right and meeting a dead end.
' tt, why is it now that this useless city provides me with a dead-end when I'm the one getting chased, and not the other way around? ' The young boy thinks, his facial expressions screaming that of pure irritation and annoyance.
Though the too close for liking sounds of footsteps make him snap around, bending down in a defensive position, Katana raised up infront of him, holding it like it is a extension of his own body.
Yet what comes around the corner isn't what damian was hoping for, never what he would hope for.
A league of assassin soldier. Just a single one, runs into the mouth of the alleyway. Gripping a letter in his leather gloved hands.
It is silent, as the two stare at each other. Ones glare more threatening, and it isn't Damian feeling scared.
" what is the meaning of this?" Damian spits out, taking a bold step forward, lifting his child up and narrowing his eyes behind the mask.
The soldier doesn't speak a word, but simply bends down and sets the letter softly onto the ground. Before lifting its gaze back up.
"I await the return of you, warith al-ghul". The words weigh heavy in the air, before the soldier disappears in the night. Leaving a shaken Damian standing, mouth agape in horror, in a dead end alleyway. Just before dawn breaks the citys sky.
..
Damian isn't quite sure why, but after slipping out of his previous shocked state. Damian found himself wanting to desperately withdraw from patrol, craving to be home in his bed, or curled up anywhere within close proximity to his siblings or pets.
Though his mind still lingers on the name he was just addressed with. One he hasn't heard in a long time, one he hoped to never hear again.
Warith Al-Ghul- Heir to the demon.
He made his way through after patrol care. The process, one he usually finds calming only helps in halting his way to find one more siblings and, well... 'seeking out the physical affection that i desire and apparently deserve' according to Richard and Duke. That is.
The young child wants nothing more then to forgot tonight's encounter entirely. Yet he can't, not with the letter in his hands that was written by his... mother.
He doesn't want to admit it but, he is scared.
But.. mother would always say to face your fears. This submitting under the weight of fear proves weakness, and weakness was never tolerated in the LoA. Never.
So Damian let his fingers thumb over the paper envelope. He peels it open with extreme care.
And he pulls out a small piece of paper. Written in his mother's cursive hand writing.
And the you boy already felt his heart drop into his gut. He had his instinct screaming at him.
Yet he read it anyway;
' To my Habibi warith,
I write to you with the means of informing you of great change. You, my Alami are being offered to, once again, live and serve within the great league of assassins.
My spy's and myself have seen your growth within the years you have stayed with that Rajul Ghabi. Though we see how you struggle, my warith.
By the time you have read these words of mine. I'm already on my way to collect you, my Alami.
In due time, shall we meet again soon,
Sincerely- Talia Al-Ghul '
Damian, in fear, dropped the letter, And. He. Ran.
He knew he would rather die a million times more then to ever live and serve under the command of his grandfather ever again.
He continued to sprint within the walls of this manor. Wanting to find anyone, literally anyone to aid him. To keep the young, traumatised boy safe and away from the dangerous hands of his mother.
And for once, the mistress fate was on his side.
As he turned a sharp corner and ran into his older brother, Jason.
" Hey brat, watch where your.. brat? Damian?"
Jason glaced down, annoyed at getting ran into. Yet his annoyance was quickly drained away, as he saw his youngest brother. His always confident and aggressive baby brother, trying to stiler the tears in his eyes.
Oh boy who the fuck did he have to kill, nobody makes the baby bat cry. Nobody.
"Hey- hey, shhhh it's ok dami. It's goanna be ok. Mmh" The larger male bent down, not yet reaching out in fear of starling possible ptsd.
" are you ok with touch, dami?" The older whispered gently.
Damian thought it over quickly, before nodding slightly.
Holding back a flinch at the contact, but quickly melting against being picked up and held. Damian let himself go limp, hiding his face in his older brothers neck in hope that nobody will see his tears.
He wasn't sure what happened next, it was really all a blur. But before long his older brother had moved the both of them into one of the more secluded living rooms. This one having all missing 5 siblings. All of which immediately stop what they are doing to watch as the family's baby lay awake yet limp from fear in his brother secure and safe hold.
Damain, oblivious to the looks of conern and confusion being shoot at him over head. Buried his head deeper into Jason's shoulder. He felt.. embarrassed. He shouldn't be acting this way, so childish and weak.
Yet... he would rather nothing else, then to be held like he currently is. Safe in the hands of his Ahki.
Though, he still had some dignity to try and keep.
So as he felt Jason sit down on the couch, a hand coming up and resting in the young boys hair. He let out an muffled "..i.. I'm.. sorry...".
His older siblings all looked at each other, worry present in all of their eyes as they watch their youngest, smallest brother, apologise, and it is rare to get one from Damian, so what could of brought this on?
" shhh, its ok dami. Shhh don't apologise baby brother.. tell us what's wrong, darling" The eldest brother dick said, seemingly teleporting across the room and now was sitting as close to damian as possible.
Watching as his littlest brother said nothing, seemingly ignoring any attempts of communication. Dick got increasingly more worried.
He has known his baby brother for 2 1/2 years. And he doesn't think he has ever seen his brother act this, what is the word for it? Ah, yes. Terrified.
Across the room, the watchful eyes of Cass looked on in concern. Her jet black orbs taking in the unusual sight of her baby brothers prone body. Before taking noticed of a scrunched up piece of paper in his hands.
Quietly she got up and made her way across the room, closer to the newly formed huddle made around the youngest. With the 2 oldest siblings ( Dick and Jason) being the ones closest to damian. Steph, Duke and Tim, all sat down close enough to provide comfort yet not to close to over crowd.
Cass quietly sat down close to dick. Not making a sound as she raised her hand gently and tapped her fingers on damians hand, which gripped onto a letter tightly.
" baby brother, letter why sad?" Cass asked. Her ability to talk not quite finished but to her family they all understand.
All elder siblings watched with hawk like eyes as damian stiffened. Before softly nodding from where he is still hiding his face in Jason's neck.
Carefully cass removes that letter from his grip. Not forcing in case he doesn't want it removed.
But damian makes no move to grab it, his body still curled up.
Cass feels dick and tim lean in close to read the letter. Her eyes narrowing with each word that her brain processes. She looks up and stares at Dick and Tim, who both wear the same facial expressions as her.
Dick, however quickly moves back to Damian. Plucking him from Jason's grasp and manhandling the young boy to sit in his lap.
" Dami, baby can you look at me, please" Dick asked softly. Watching as damian lifted his head up, those bright emerald green eyes meeting ocean blue.
" you're going to be ok baby, were not letting your mother take you from us. " Dick whispers with care. The words landing gently in the rooms air.
Damian looks up, surprised at how much those simple words helped.
" .. really, you promise" damian looks up with hopeful eyes. And its then again, where his siblings are all reminded of just how young he is. Only 11 years old with the expectations of the world hanging on his shoulders.
" I promise she won't ever take you from us-"
.....
..
..
.
..
..
.......
"Oh my Habibi warith, there you are. Stop wasting time and come, we have to hurry back. Your grandfather awaits your arrival. "
Damians freezes, and his older siblings jump and to position themselves infrount of him.
And to make matters worse, because fate has the love for drama that a teenage girl has.
Bruce, out of all possible timings. Decides to storm into the room.
' i just want to stay with my siblings...'