Chapter 1: The Vision
Chapter Text
It wasn’t often you saw your own future. But when you pulled a glove off to touch the hand of the mobster before you, the usual vision came with a distinct sense of personal danger.
Flashes of bloodied hands and knives showed you the murder committed that still haunted the man before you. Flashes of blue and red lights let you know Gotham PD wasn’t far off his tail.
But the sense of danger that bolted down your spine? That danger was for you. This man was going to upend your life.
You pulled your hand back with a grimace, at last opening your eyes to take in the large man hunched over your small and rather unstable setup. Clad in dark hoodie and pants to avoid attention on the way to your small apartment in the slums, the well-tattooed head was a bit of a standout. But the heavily muscled body was taut with uncertainty, making the large man appear smaller and less of the threat you knew he was.
He eyed you warily, looking caught between disdain and concern. He’d looked apprehensive at best when first walking into your apartment, clearly noting the patterned drapes set up around the walls and windows to allow for privacy. Packs of tarot cards and crystals also lined the walls, but they were more for show. You found the physical guides weren’t of much use to your abilities, but for some reason the added gaudy decor seemed to put people more at ease.
This mobster had already verbalised his disbelief in your abilities, but scepticism was something you were well used to from the people walking through your doors for a reading of their future, at least until you told those people things no one could ever guess.
“Well, what did you see?” The man demanded.
You sighed and pulled the thin black glove back over your hand, covering your skin again. Reaching down to scratch the head of the small black kitten curled up on your lap, you thought through your answer.
“What are you going to tell him?” A second voice jumped in loudly, and you had to physically restrain yourself from rolling your eyes.
Ghosts were annoying. Spirits that didn’t pass over after death often floated around areas or people familiar or significant to them, and that included sticking to people who had wronged them. Being dead, they had no way to contact or interact with the world around them. So as soon as they realised there was finally someone who could see and hear them – namely you – they had a lot to say.
This particular ghost stood behind the mobster, leaning over his shoulder. He looked as real to you as any alive person, but there was a certain aura about him that let you know he had passed. It was a softness around the edges of his person, a slight chill in the air that only you could feel. That and the lack of a shadow usually gave them away.
As it was, you barely spared the ghost a cursory glance before turning your attention back to the mobster, who was becoming more impatient by the second.
“You came to me so I could fix a problem,” You began.
“Yes.”
“You didn’t mention the problem was a dead man.”
The blood drained from the mobster’s face as his eyes bugged. “Wha – How do you know that?”
“Tall man, red hair, glasses…” You listed attributes of the ghost standing at his shoulder, “Sound familiar?”
He spluttered, turning an unhealthy shade of white.
“How – What – How could you possibly - ?”
Your sigh was abruptly annoyed.
“You know, you sought me out,” You pointed out, “You’d heard I talk to ghosts and read futures, yes?”
The man nodded mutely, looking more terrified by the second.
“Well, don’t be surprised when I actually do what you wanted.”
“And…” He hesitated, as if unsure whether or not he really wanted to continue, “What did you see?”
Another pat of the small cat on your lap had it lazily lifting its head to pin a yellow-eyed stare on the man sweating bullets across from you.
“You’re a prime suspect, at least. Gotham PD aren’t far behind you. It’s up to you what you do with that information.”
“And… John?”
Your gaze slid sideways to the ghost that had suddenly straightened at the name.
“John being the victim, I assume?”
The ghost nodded vigorously as he placed a hand on the shoulder of the mobster, who shivered and looked next to him, of course seeing nothing.
“John’s here,” You said, “Anything you’d like to say?”
You were playing with him a little, you admitted to yourself. It was clear this mobster had murdered the ghost that stuck to his side, he probably deserved a little scare. As it was, when he looked back around to you, the large, tatted man looked like he was about to pass out.
“C-can you get rid of him?” His voice quavered.
“I can.”
The mobster reached into a pocket and slapped three hundred-dollar bills on the table.
“Is that enough?”
Is that enough? That would cover rent and food this week. You eyed John, who was now shaking his head just as vigorously as before.
“Don’t do it! I want to see him thrown in the slammer!”
“Tough break, John. A girl’s gotta eat.”
The mobster somehow grew whiter as you addressed the ghost directly, again glancing to his side with wide eyes.
“No! Wait!” John grew agitated, dancing away from you. As if that would save him. “At least hear me out!”
You paused in reaching for the money, arching an eyebrow at the ghost.
“Look, fine, get rid of me, but at least bring this man to justice.” John rattled off an address. “That’s where my body is! Just tell the police that at least!”
Ugh. Dammit.
Your hand moved the rest of the way to pick up the money. Both the mobster and John watched you with pleading eyes.
“Okay.”
At your agreement, the mobster visibly slumped in relief, but your eyes moved to John, and the ghost seemed to realise the agreement was for the both of them. He smiled and nodded, seeming to accept this was it.
You closed your eyes, not wanting the shift in their colour as you used your powers to spook the mobster any more than he already was. But you reached out with your mind and felt the tethers before you just the same.
Tethers to this plane of reality were like ropes that bound a person's soul to the earth, and when you concentrated, they lit up like beams of sunlight despite your closed eyes. The ghost’s tether was duller, less durable, than those alive. It took little concentration to reach out and grip it with your power; pulling gently, it took little force to dissolve it. Opening your eyes once more, you saw John the ghost quickly fade before you, finally passing into the other plane and onto the afterlife.
The mobster sat up straighter as the ghost finally disappeared and rolled his shoulders with a frown.
“I feel different.”
You shrugged, “You don’t have a spirit hanging over you anymore.”
The mobster swallowed hard, “You are the Deathweaver…”
He whispered the title under his breath with both awe and dawning realisation that you were everything the rumours had promised him. It was a title the few who knew of you had bestowed and used to name you in the quiet circles of the Gotham undercity, one he had clearly heard and only now felt its truth.
But with that realisation came interest, a quickening behind his eyes. You realised this was where the danger would come from, this man’s interest would start something that would change things. From here, you would no longer live the quiet life you were used to.
Damn. You knew it would have only been a matter of time before you gave a reading to the wrong person. Usually, you were a little more picky with your clientele, but customers had been thin lately and you couldn’t pass up the amount of money he had offered you.
The mobster stood and nodded your way, still looking pale, but less shaky than before.
“I appreciate your help. But if you tell anyone of what passed here…”
The threat was clear, the consequences obvious. You merely nodded in acceptance.
“I understand.”
Apparently, that was enough for him, as he quickly exited your small apartment and left you alone.
You sat still for a long few minutes, gazing around and soaking up the sight of the small apartment that had been your first and only home. It wasn’t much. A small lounge held a scruffy couch and the lopsided table you sat at. To one side was a small kitchen. Down the hallway was a small bedroom and bathroom.
There was little in the way of personal items. You had come into this apartment off the streets, and it had taken you the five years you had been in here just to be able to afford the meagre furniture and fake crystals that lines the shelves. But still, it was home.
You had the growing feeling it wouldn’t be your home for much longer.
At your prolonged sigh, the kitten on your lap perked up its ears. With a large stretch, Ryuu yawned widely and jumped down to pad across to the couch to settle there instead.
Freed from the tiny weight, you pushed yourself up and locked the door before making your way to the couch also. But you shoved your hand under the cushions and felt around until you made contact with the cell phone you kept hidden under there.
You couldn’t afford regular phone bills on top of electricity, rent, and food, so you kept the phone away to avoid the temptation to use it. But you scrolled down the very short list of contacts to the singular cop you had a number for.
You had been in the fortune telling game long enough to have come up against multiple nefarious deeds, unfinished business, and crimes that had gone cold. Ghosts often asked you to finish what they couldn’t, so some years ago your visions had directed you to an officer within Gotham PD you could trust. She kept you anonymous and didn’t ask questions in return for the offloading of details and uncannily correct tips you would rather not sit with.
You quickly sent a text to Barbara Gordon with what details you could offer in relation to John’s murder, your favour to him fulfilled. As usual, she was quick to reply, a simple thanks and that she would look into it.
Having done what you could, you collapsed onto your couch. The black kitten jumped up onto your lap again with an inquisitive meow.
Seer is troubled. Its rumbling voice addressed you in your mind.
This was not worth the money. You replied sourly.
Seer saw more?
We are no longer safe here, Ryuu. You admitted. I foresee danger, an immense change to our life here.
Your familiar bared its little kitten fangs, the image far less ferocious than you knew it could be.
This life is not to our taste. Let him hunt and we will respond with equal fury.
You smiled at your familiars bloodthirsty attitude, but knew it would not rush to be rash.
“I need to mediate,” You said aloud. “I think there is more to this than just the one man.”
You did feel it, a certainty in your bones. This would be an overhaul of everything you had known, but it was needed. The strings of the God Shai’s fate for you now pulled you towards a different destiny.
The kitten, Ryuu, hopped off your lap to wander towards the door and sniff at it. As you watched, it grew in size, the threat of danger causing the ancient, eldritch being to swell in response.
Then mediate, Seer. Ryuu answered. We will keep watch.
Rising from the couch, you put away the money earned in a safe location and pulled the curtains before lighting some candles. You found meditation much easier in the dark, and the scented candles you had set up soothed you, making the transition back into alertness afterwards less jarring.
You pulled out the only possession you had from your childhood, a prayer rug from your home country of Egypt. Fondly smoothing out the frayed edges of the red patterned fabric, you settled down in a cross-legged position atop it. Ryuu, now an enormous prowling black panther, settled down next to the front door, ready to look over you. Smiling at its unspoken protection, you closed your eyes and let yourself drift off.
Your visions often came in short sharp images, impressions, and feelings. The further out a future was or the more likely to be changed, the softer the impression of it was. But the more important or urgent something was, the sharper the focus.
This time you saw blood, felt your heart beat fast in fear, heard the smashing of furniture as if it were happening around you. It was your apartment. It was what would happen if you stayed.
But there was a softer figure waiting at the sidelines. Someone not yet involved, you realised. The silhouette of a man, tall and muscular, dressed in black and red and hiding their face. They weren’t a threat, you felt that much, but you were confused by the way your heartbeat increased again in a different, strange way you had not felt before.
Then you felt a name stab through your head like a thunderbolt. Urgent, important. Not the name of the mysterious figure, but of someone else you needed to seek out to begin your new journey. There was a feeling of mutual need; you needed her help, but there was something you needed to do as well that finding her would kickstart. It was a name you had heard before, and it rasped out between your lips as your consciousness rose out of the vision into alertness once more.
“Zatanna.”
The large theatre was decorated to the max, just as you had expected for arguably the most famous magician in the world. You laughed quietly to yourself as you made your way inside, constantly surprised at the way audiences were willing to look past the incredible and unbelievable feats and experiences to see them as merely tricks.
Sitting down with the masses excited for Zatanna’s show, you felt the familiar tingle of magic surrounding the building. It had a warm, light feeling, but with a sharp edge, much in contrast to your own smooth and cold magic. She had wards up, her own magical security, but you weren’t trying to hide. For once, you let your own magical signature drift out from yourself, and the invisible chilled threads coiled and toyed with the warm sharpness around you. Zatanna would know another magic user was here.
But the show started with no fuss, Zatanna prancing on stage with incredible presence and an explosion of sparks to announce herself. You sat quietly through her performance, enjoying the show, but not as taken with the grand tricks and incredible displays she put on, knowing the simple answer of magic was behind it.
A tickle at your mind as a presence brushed against it.
She is powerful. Ryuu warned. Your familiar had taken the form of a small blackbird and was settled in the shadowy rafters up high. It saw what you did – a sorceress not having to work very hard at all to create the performance of a lifetime.
I know. I’ll be careful.
We can take her if need be, but we would not escape unharmed.
I’m not planning to fight. You were amused. We need her help; it would be counterintuitive.
Ryuu fell silent, but it was noteworthy that your familiar would bother to warn you against another sorceress. If Zatanna was powerful enough it felt the need to say something, you should be very wary.
As the performance neared its undoubtedly marvellous end, you slid out of your seat and outside of the main theatre to make your way towards the bathrooms. But you turned at the last minute, instead moving towards the green rooms and backstage area.
The theatre, being a very old building, had its share of ghosts. They eyed you as you passed, feeling something different about you but unable to place it. But you kept your eyes carefully forward, giving them no reason to think you could see or hear them. You had more important things to do than get caught up in a dead person’s affairs.
You ducked aside as you neared another hallway to see two security guards stood ahead, looking bored, but blocking the way forward. You felt a presence swoop up behind you before a change shivered down your spine. The guards, as stoic as they were, were no match for the large black rat that rushed towards them. They turned and ran with a shriek, disappearing and allowing you to slip from the shadows and turn down a side corridor without being seen.
It wasn’t hard to find Zatanna’s designated room, being labelled and such. You didn’t have to wait long before Ryuu came swooping back as a bird once more to settle on your shoulder.
Door? Ryuu chirruped.
Please.
She will know.
Yes.
Her wards would immediately alert Zatanna to an intruder in her room, but you hoped that being so obvious in your entry would let her know you weren’t attempting to be sneaky and meant her no harm. Ryuu dropped to the ground and immediately changed to a beetle, scuttling under the door. It wasn’t long until the door swung open, the panther on the other side having used a paw to twist the handle.
You quickly ducked inside and closed the door behind you, and took up residence in a plush roller chair, enjoying the feel compared to your usual threadbare chairs at home. Ryuu morphed back into the small kitten it preferred to embody and climbed up your body to drape over your shoulder and purr loudly, pleased with itself. You patted its small head, both in appreciation and to settle your nerves. As sure as you were that this was where you were meant to be, you were still on edge.
After your vision, you had been quick to pack up the very few things in your apartment. In the end the only things you kept were clothes, the phone, some candles, and your prayer rug. You hadn’t bothered to leave money for rent, you wouldn’t be coming back, and the housing you were in was in a dodgy enough neighbourhood they hadn’t batted an eye when you were unable to produce proof of your identity when you moved in.
You instead used the money to catch a train to Metropolis, where Zatanna’s next show was. Before the show you had stashed your duffel bag of possessions out of sight in an alleyway before making your way inside. You hadn’t bothered to purchase a ticket either. With a small distraction from Ryuu you had easily been able to slip past the guards.
You could hear the muted roar of the crowd as Zatanna’s finale wound up to its end, and you spun mindlessly on the chair as you glanced around the room. The place was covered in mirrors, and you snorted at the cliché, but your gaze quickly snagged on the reflection of yourself.
The outfit you’d chosen was well put together, definitely worth bringing out for the high-class theatre you had infiltrated. You’d kept your make up minimalistic, but it was enough to bring out your pale blue eyes against your olive skin and black hair. While your clothes were nice, they were still casual enough not to draw too much attention.
You had worn heeled boots for once, given you were coming to a fancier outing. Black pants buttoned all the way up your waist, where they met a floaty emerald blouse that tucked in just under your breasts. Long black gloves covered the skin of your arms, disappearing up into the loose sleeves of the blouse, and a decorated silver collar hid the skin of your neck. It was all in an attempt to keep as much skin hidden as possible, the last thing you needed was an accidental skin touch causing you to see a random person’s future.
Sometimes you cursed the way your powers worked, having any skin-to-skin contact force a reading was irritating, at best. It had caused you to be discarded as a child more times than you cared to count. You were too weird, too strange, too grown up and serious for your age. And of course, talking to people no one could see and having eyes that glowed white at times didn’t help.
At least you had been able to carve out a meagre living for yourself doing discreet readings in the Gotham undercity, and you had quickly learned to reduce contact with others by covering up with the clothes you chose. But your abilities still came at a cost of course, loneliness was a big part of your life, at least until Ryuu had made an appearance to the starving street urchin abandoned in the streets of Gotham. And now they had cost you more, the loss of your apartment and upheaval of the small but stable life you had crafted for yourself.
Your familiar nuzzled against your cheek, likely in comfort on feeling your thoughts turn pensive.
Seer is sad. Ryuu noted.
Having to give up your home can do that to a person.
It was needed. We were in danger.
You tried not to think about the images of destroyed furniture and smashed windows from your vision. Leaving was the only option, but it was still bitter, your apartment hadn’t been much, but it had been the closest thing to a home you had ever had.
I know. We are moving to a new chapter now.
Then something changed. A small chill of warning settled in your spine. Ryuu felt it too.
She comes.
It wasn’t long before the handle of the door turned, and it swung open. Zatanna stood in the doorway in full stage getup, expression severe with wand out and pointed square at your chest.
You smiled, making no move in reaction to the obvious threat.
“Hello, Zatanna.”
She didn’t move an inch, instead watching you carefully.
“You know who I am, but I don’t know you.” Her eyes narrowed, “I assume you’re the necromancer I’ve been feeling the whole show?”
“Yes.”
Zatanna arched a brow, “You’re not doing a very good job at masking it. I can feel your death magic everywhere.”
You merely shrugged, “I wanted you to know I was coming, put you at ease.”
“Having an extremely powerful sorceress and an ancient being in my green room does not put me at ease,” At least her tone had turned more sarcastic than deadly, “I can feel how dangerous you are.”
“I understand,” You gestured to Ryuu on your shoulder, the black kitten’s eyes fixed on Zatanna’s unwavering wand. “I mean you no harm. This is my familiar, Ryuu. I am Amira.”
Suspicion flickered through her eyes, “I’ve never heard of you.”
“That’s how I prefer it,” You admitted.
“Why are you here?”
Crossing your legs, you wondered if your lack of concern at the wand pointed your way was in fact putting her even more on edge. You tried a weak smile, “I’ve come for your help. I saw I must be here, so here I am.”
Zatanna’s brows were getting higher by the second, “You’re a seer as well as a necromancer?”
“I’m not really either, per say,” You cleared your throat, realising you might have to give a little away to gain her trust. “My magic is old and varied, I do not have full understanding of where it came from.”
“Interesting.”
The wand pointed your way was slowly lowering as you kept your answers open and honest. Zatanna would not help you if she believed you were hiding things. At last, she stepped inside the room and pulled the door shut behind her.
“I admit,” She began hesitantly, her tone a little friendlier, “I’m curious how such a powerful being could go so unnoticed.”
You smiled more genuinely now, and Ryuu also seemed to relax slightly on your shoulder.
“Then let me tell you a story.”
Chapter 2: The Witch
Notes:
Two chapters just to kick things off :)
It's a little rocky to start with, but we're just building tension <3
Chapter Text
DAMIAN
“What are we doing here, Father?”
Damian stood in full costume next to the Batman on a lonely rooftop on the outskirts of Gotham City. The wind was frigid, but at least the greasy rain had stopped, although the heavy clouds overhead hinted at more. Bruce had led them here without explaining why, and Damian understood by his silence that he was still angry after his disastrous handling of the Grey Hawk Gang the night before. So, Damian had held his tongue, but after silently waiting for over thirty minutes on the cold, open roof, his patience had finally run out.
Bruce didn’t answer for just long enough that Damian knew he was annoyed by the question, but he answered anyway.
“Zatanna has asked us to meet her here.”
Damian’s demanding curiosity wasn’t satiated. In his opinion, that wasn’t a good enough reason to be freezing his ass off tonight.
“Why?”
“She has something for us.”
“Us?”
Damian echoed the word, actually surprised. He had assumed being out tonight with the Batman was a punishment, a sign that Bruce again didn’t trust him to work on his own after his screw up last night. But here he was saying us – a sign that Damian would be granted a task, a sign that this was no punishment after all.
Before he could push further, a glowing purple ball suddenly sizzled into being a few metres ahead of them, it quickly grew to an oval shape and opened into what was recognisable as a portal. A person materialised on the other side and stepped through, closely followed by a second.
Damian recognised the first immediately as Zatanna. Clad in her overly revealing white corset and black pants, she smiled on seeing them both waiting. She was unlikely to be a threat, Bruce treated her as a friend. So, he instead focussed his full attention on the second woman to come through the portal.
In black pants, heels, and emerald blouse, she cut a lithe and effortlessly graceful figure. A silver collar at her neck was almost obscured by a black kitten draped over her shoulder, whose yellow eyes seemed to look between the Batman and Robin with more comprehension than they should.
She was small, very small, even compared to Zatanna she was almost a full head shorter than her. But it was her eyes that really stood out. She might have looked much younger than she was if not for the wise and ancient gaze that flicked between those assembled. The woman was clearly of Arabic origin, with olive skin and smoky almond eyes, but they were a pale, pale blue that struck Damian as very abnormal.
Even more abnormal, however, was the strange way the shadows moved around her, almost as if they clung to her without truly hiding her. Damian deduced she must be a magic user, and probably around his own age. It figured Zatanna would know more sorcerers he wasn’t aware of, although even in his extensive study of the Justice League archives, he didn’t recall ever coming across her.
“Zatanna.”
Bruce’s deep greeting was coloured with the gravel he injected while in costume, and it rumbled through the air. It seemed to make the newcomer nervous, as she visibly swallowed and reached up to mindlessly pet the kitten on her shoulder. Zatanna was unruffled.
“It’s good to see you again. This is Amira Chione, the one I told you about.”
Princess of the Nile. An interesting name, Damian thought, though it clearly explained her origin. However, he was much more irritated on hearing there was far more behind this interaction than Bruce had let on earlier.
“I’m calling in a solid you-owe-me,” Zatanna continued, crossing her arms. “I don’t know what gang she’s encountered, but her place has already been torn up. Given her abilities, I need to leave her with you.”
“I understand, she will be safe with Robin.”
“What?”
Damian couldn’t help the harsh question that escaped his lips as surprise and anger in equal amounts blasted through him. Babysitting duty? He’d been wrong, this was a punishment after all. Bruce turned to pin him with an icy glare.
“There are many factors that require Amira to be under our protection for the moment. We will discuss this more fully later.”
But Damian was too incensed to be silent.
“Why can’t she stay with Zatanna if she needs protection?” He argued heatedly, “She’s clearly magical.”
But it was the woman herself who answered, her voice quiet but sure.
“Destiny demands it.”
Damian turned towards her with a snarl on his face. Destiny? What sort of bullshit reasoning –
Bruce interjected before he could speak.
“We can provide her protection,” His voice was firm, anger at Damian’s reaction ringing through it. He spoke now to the woman, “A safehouse is set up here in Gotham we will move you into. Robin will stay there also for twenty-four-hour surveillance.”
He was going to have to stay with her?? Damian was seeing red, and he shot a livid stare towards his father that was ignored. Amira herself levelled a look of distaste his way, but cocked her head down towards her pet cat, as if noting a reaction that wasn’t there.
“Is that… necessary?” She ventured, sounding almost as displeased as Damian felt.
Zatanna seemed like she was moments off laughing, “I suspect so. Shall we get your things?”
For a moment it seemed she was going to argue, but only gave a jerky nod before following Zatanna back through the open portal and disappearing from sight. Alone for a moment, Damian turned on Bruce with a glare only to find one already staring him down.
“You will take this post,” Bruce growled.
“This is beneath me, Father.” Damian snapped, “Why should I have to look after some girl?”
“We think Amira may have the Grey Hawk Gang after her,” Bruce began, and Damian immediately felt like a cold bucket of water was tipped over him. His failure yesterday had likely directly contributed to this. Fuck, no wonder he was the one sentenced to this rubbish.
The Grey Hawks used to be a small gang running drugs through the Gotham underground. But through the years they had grown to become a much larger problem. Now a heavily armed and well ingrained gang with numerous contracts between larger gangs and villains, they had been beginning to make themselves a real problem, becoming bolder in their crimes as their numbers grew.
Damian had been spearheading the take down of the gang until last night. It was clear that would no longer be the case.
Bruce continued, “And Zatanna is concerned that prior to today she had no idea this girl existed.”
That caught Damian’s notice, “Isn’t she a magic user?”
“Yes, and an extremely powerful and dangerous one at that. I have no idea how she’s flown under the Justice League’s radar for so long, something I need you to find out.”
Damian scoffed, annoyed as the pieces fell into place. “I assume the Grey Hawk Gang is aware of her, and that’s why they want her.”
“Correct. An isolated sorceress is vulnerable, the last thing we want is someone like Amira in the wrong hands.”
Damian cursed internally. Fine, it seemed she really did need protecting, but he didn’t have to like it.
“If she’s so powerful, why aren’t we going after the gang?”
“The others and I will be going after the Grey Hawks; you will be on protection duty.” Bruce corrected firmly.
Damian’s expression dropped into another scowl, but before he could argue further, Zatanna and Amira stepped back out of the portal once more, the latter holding a single duffel bag. The cat now walked at her side and –
Damian narrowed his eyes at the black cat that he was sure had been a kitten mere moments ago. The cat swung its head around to set its glowing eyes on him but settled at the feet of its owner. Amira glanced between them both but seemed to decide to ignore it. She came to a stop a few metres from Damian, looking him over with a slightly wrinkled nose.
“I’m ready.”
Damian huffed in irritation, “Fine.” He turned back to his father. “If you wouldn’t mind sending me the location of the safehouse, since its clearly where I’ll be spending the night.”
Bruce ignored his tone and merely keyed the location through to him, stating, “It’s fully stocked, you should have everything that you need.”
Scoffing again, Damian agitatedly gestured for Amira to follow him, and she picked up her duffel bag and followed him as he marched away across the rooftop, her cat trotting along beside her. Behind him, he vaguely heard Zatanna asking Father a question.
“You think they’ll be okay?”
“Robin should be able to handle it…”
Damian quickly tuned out as his anger rose, should be able to handle it? This was such a basic task, as if there was any doubt! He reached the edge of the rooftop, and his hand went instinctively to his grapple gun at the same time as he realised Amira had to get down into the alleyway as well.
Abruptly, he turned to face her, asking flatly,
“I don’t suppose you can fly?”
She looked startled by the sudden question, “I can’t, no.”
With a sigh, Damian grabbed the duffel bag off her and looped an arm through so he could swing it over his back, then grabbed his grapple gun with that arm. The other he held out at his side, furious he had to even do this. He hated touching people, even more so when they made contact with him.
“Grab your cat and hang on to me.”
“I… sorry?” She was even more surprised than before. Damian glared at her, repeating more slowly.
“Get your cat and hang on to me. We’re going to have to grapple into the alley.”
“Oh,” Amira looked over the edge of the building, seeming to suddenly realise just how far down the drop was to the streets below. “Um, okay.”
She paused for a moment, seeming to check her outfit of all things before hesitantly stepping in close to Damian. He wrapped his arm securely around her waist, hating that she was pressed so closely against his body and that her arms wound tight around his neck.
This close, he was surprised by just how small she was, her head stopping somewhere at his chest, so he actually had to bend a little and lift her to get his arm securely around her waist. Amira made a small sound of surprise as her feet left the ground, a sound that made Damian feel weird, so he ignored it.
“Are you planning on leaving your cat here?” Damian grumbled.
“Ryuu will make its own way down,” Her voice was muffled against his chest.
Ryuu; Dragon, in Japanese. Damian looked down at the black cat that still watched him and snorted in derision.
“Fine, whatever.” If she wanted to abandon her cat up here, he knew the bleeding-heart Zatanna would take care of it. But his estimations of her dropped far lower because of it.
Taking the last step to the very edge of the roof, Damian shot off the grapple hook, and on feeling the line go taut, leapt off the building without further word or goodbye to his father somewhere behind him.
A high-pitched gasp left Amira as they rapidly descended and her arms wound even tighter around him, but Damian was grudgingly impressed she didn’t scream. They hit the ground soon enough, the impact barely jarring him, but Amira didn’t let go. Looking down, he found her face pressed to his chest and her eyes squeezed shut.
Why was she so warm? Why did she smell so good? Like vanilla and the clear, crisp brightness of winter –
“You can let go of me now,” Damian grumbled.
Pale eyes snapped open, and Amira was quick to let go of him and stumble off a few steps. Her olive skin darkened slightly over her cheeks – a blush.
“Oh, sorry.”
A chirp above them had them both looking up to see a blackbird circling down until it landed neatly on the ground. Once it hit the concrete of the alleyway, the form of the bird twisted and elongated until it resembled the black kitten left on the top of the building.
Damian stared, shocked despite himself, “What is that thing??”
Amira squatted down so the kitten could jump up onto her shoulder once more.
“Ryuu is my familiar,” She said, as if that explained everything.
Dammit, he should have asked just what her ‘powerful and dangerous’ abilities actually entailed before taking the assignment. But he quickly sighed, it wasn’t like he had much of a choice. Fighting the urge to grumble aloud, Damian set off down the darkened alleyway, hearing Amira scramble to follow him. When he reached his motorbike and started strapping her duffel bag down to the back of it, Amira finally spoke.
“I haven’t ridden a motorbike before.”
Damian just shrugged, “I’ll be doing the driving, you just hang on.“ He tossed her the second helmet kept under the seat, “Put this on.” He quickly placed his own on and did up the strap, which she seemed to watch closely before doing the same.
Swinging a leg over the bike, Damian settled in and gestured behind him.
“Get on.”
The dark shape of Ryuu shifted again into a bird and soared up into the air as Amira took a step forward to also swing a leg over the bike to settle in behind him. Her hands hesitantly came forward to grip his sides. Damian held back a curse at her touch and the unfamiliar and uncomfortable feel of thighs against his own, instead just gunning the bike and settling off at a screeching pace through the Gotham streets. It had the unfortunate effect of having Amira press harder against him and grip him tighter, and he tried hard to ignore the sensation as they sped towards the safehouse.
The towering buildings eventually thinned out to smaller housing complexes that had been abandoned for some years, and Damian soon turned into a tired looking garage that opened on sensing his bike. Amira dismounted quickly and wordlessly handed him back the helmet before stepping further away, and Damian was glad for the silence and the space as he grabbed her bag. The garage had stairs that led upwards through the building to a second floor where they at last found the apartment that had been revamped into a safehouse.
The apartment from the outside looked as abandoned as the streets around them, but they found inside looked at least clean and warm, as bare as it was.
Damian dumped Amira’s bag down and immediately set off through the rooms to make sure they were secure. Two bedrooms – a small mercy – a bathroom, and a conjoined kitchen and lounge. As Father had promised, it had fresh linen and the necessities, including a fully stocked fridge and cupboards.
As Damian came back into the lounge, he saw Ryuu had joined them again, once more in the form of a small black kitten. This time when it focussed its gaze on him, Damian took its intelligence a little more seriously.
“What’s your name?” A soft voice broke the silence.
Freezing briefly at the sudden and very personal question, Damian turned a glare on Amira.
“You will only ever know me as Robin.”
“I… okay,” She seemed taken aback by his hostility, “I just thought since we’ll be spending the near future together I might – “
“I will not be spending long here because the others will have your mob dismantled in days,” Damian snapped, “Then you won’t have to be here anymore and can go back to whatever hovel you were hiding in before.”
Amira looked affronted, “Are you going to be an asshole the whole time?” She asked hotly.
Damian turned around and strode towards the door as he answered harshly, “Probably. Now I’m going to figure out what sort of lax security Batman has set up around here.” He pulled up short just before he yanked the door open again.
“Just what sort of powers do you actually have?” He really should have this information before setting things up. Potentially her powers could be of use, but he also needed to know how they might affect him, or how much the Grey Hawks would really be trying to get their hands on her.
But Amira was crossing her arms and glaring at him almost as severely as he had a moment before.
“Why would I tell you?”
Damian frowned, “I need to know for security, what am I getting myself into?”
She merely arched an eyebrow, “I guess you should figure it out then.”
“You need to tell me!” Damian demanded.
The glare his way just deepened, and even the familiar hissed at him.
“Well, I hope you enjoy disappointment.”
Damian swore under his breath, swept around, and strode out the door, slamming it behind him for good measure. Who did she think she was? She was here under his protection, if she was going to be difficult then this wasn’t going to work!
As he grappled up and alighted on a building across the street to glare down at their small apartment, Damian considered for a moment calling Father to demand someone else replace him. He dismissed the thought almost as fast, he needed to prove himself. His impulsiveness last night had busted their whole carefully laid plan to capture most of the leadership of the Grey Hawks, what he needed was to calm down and show just how capable he was.
For a longer moment, Damian considered calling Dick, if only to complain about his assignment. But Dick was getting busier and busier with a pregnant Kori and preparing for a family of his own, Damian didn’t want to intrude on his brother’s happiness.
A strange feeling of melancholy descended on Damian as he placed a boot up on the side of the building to start a good brood. His entire childhood, he had denied his family at almost every turn, and now in his early twenties, he found he was more alone than ever as each of his siblings found partners or friends to spend more of their time with and they spent less and less time at the Manor.
But he liked this, Damian argued with himself. Just like his father before him, he worked best alone. Anyone else just got in his way, as proved by the disaster with the gang last night, when the others jumping in when he had things under control ruined everything.
For some reason, telling himself that didn’t help his mood, as if he unconsciously knew he didn’t even believe himself.
Movement in one of their apartment rooms caught his eye, and he saw the silhouette of Amira walk into one of the bedrooms. We need better curtains for privacy, Damian noted. But thoughts of security ground to a halt as he watched the silhouette sit and place their head in their hands.
An emotion Damian didn’t often feel stole through him, and he stayed on the side of the building for a long time as he struggled with the strange sensation of remorse.
Chapter 3: Ground Rules
Notes:
Thank you all for the kudos and those that have already bookmarked <3
Take care of yourselves and enjoy a bit more interaction between the main characters, and some other familiar faces :)
Chapter Text
AMIRA
You woke with a start, knowing instinctively you were in an unfamiliar place. Blinking your eyes open, you quickly recognised the small, minimally furnished bedroom you had settled down in last night. However, your immediate attention was on the two ghosts standing over you and peering down.
With a squeak of surprise, you bolted upright and the two ghosts jumped back with surprised cries of their own.
“What the fuck?” You snapped, quickly calming, “Haven’t you heard of personal space?”
One ghost, an elderly lady dressed in clothing from well before this era, stared at you in shock.
“You can see us?”
The second ghost, a middle-aged woman dressed in more modern-day clothing, was looking more excited by the second.
“She can, I knew it! I told you she was different!”
Rubbing at your eyes, you glared at them. You were not impressed that your safehouse just happened to be the haven for a couple of wayward ghosts, it was going to be hard enough being here with the overly antagonistic Robin.
“Yes, I can see you. Now leave me alone.”
You went to push your covers down, but the elderly woman flapped her hands at you in distress.
“Wait, wait! It’s been so long since we’ve been able to talk to someone!”
Eyeing her getup, you snorted.
“Yeah, I can see that. You must be from what, the seventeenth century?”
The lady drew herself up and sniffed pertly, “Eighteenth, actually.”
“Right.”
“What we’re saying is,” The other woman quickly interjected, “You seem different, like you are like us. Well not, like us, but…”
She trailed off looking confused, but you understood. They were reacting to your magic, the cool feel of death radiated off you in an aura similar to that you felt from ghosts. Like called to like, and this pair had been drawn to you.
You settled into a cross legged position on the bed. “Look, I can send you off into the afterlife if you want, just please leave me alone. I’ve got enough problems at the moment.”
“Oh no,” The older lady spoke again, “We like it here, it’s like our own place.”
The other one stepped forward again, “What Elizabeth is trying to say is we want to stay, but you’re the most interesting thing that’s happened around here for years. So we might just… hang around a bit.”
You rubbed your face with a groan. While their presence wasn’t welcome, they were here first, and it wasn’t like they could do any harm, being dead and all.
“Fine, whatever. Just stay out of my way.”
Both women looked delighted.
“Thank you,” The older one said, “I am Elizabeth, and this is Carol.”
“Yup, okay,” You sighed, resigned to the presence of two others you wouldn’t be able to get rid of. “I’m Amira, and there’s another guy slinking around somewhere too.”
Elizabeth nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, your husband really is quite charming.”
“Husband?” You spluttered, and the old woman frowned.
“You’re not married?”
Your derision turned to laughter at the thought of being married to the overly vicious vigilante you had been forced into proximity with, “Not in a million years.”
On seeing her friends continued frown, Carol placed a hand on her arm.
“Remember we talked about this Elizabeth, not all couples have to be married to live together anymore.”
Rolling your eyes, you let out a sound of disgust. Ryuu, having watched your one-sided conversation with little interest, now stretched out beside you with a rumble before jumping down from the bed and trotting across the floor to stand at the door.
Outside! Your familiar demanded.
Grumbling, you threw back the covers and shuffled over to the bedroom door, and the ghosts diligently made their way to the outskirts of the room to let you through. Blinking the last of the sleep from your eyes, you ventured out into the greater apartment, only to come to a sudden stop on seeing your assigned guard sitting at the small kitchen table tapping away on his phone.
Robin looked up as you entered and also froze, eyes sweeping up and down your basic grey sweatpants and tank top with a frown. You were immediately wary. Sleepwear was about the only time you bared any skin, and you hadn’t really expected Robin to be out here, you hadn’t heard him come in after leaving in a huff last night. At least he clearly despised you enough that he would hopefully give you a wide berth.
Unwilling to entertain last night’s hostility again, you mumbled a good morning and continued past him to the front door. His eyes followed you, and as you unlocked it his deep voice rumbled across the room.
“Where are you going?”
You were surprised that he spoke to you, and were even more surprised it was with any degree of civility after his anger last night. You replied evenly.
“Just letting Ryuu out.”
Cracking the door, Ryuu slipped out into the greater apartment building and you closed it after the small cat. You had little doubt your familiar could find its way outside to hunt the small rodents and birds it preferred. Locking the door again, you walked back past Robin to the kitchen behind him. His eyes stayed glued to the door.
“Can’t he get out himself?”
“It.”
“What?”
Now Robin turned to you, still frowning but not looking as outwardly angry as last night. Actually, if anything he looked tired, as if he really had been out all night. On spying his empty coffee cup, you gestured at it. You may as well try an extend an olive branch while he seemed more civil.
“Do you want more?”
His confusion seemed to grow with new suspicion, and you rolled your eyes.
“I’m making coffee anyway, do you want another cup?” You asked more deliberately.
A tiny nod was your confirmation, so you grabbed his cup to wash it and begin brewing another pot. While waiting, you turned back to him to answer his question.
“Ryuu is genderless, an ancient being so old it doesn’t recall any relation to gender.”
Robin seemed to take that in. His eyes tracked your movements as you made the coffee carefully, and you wondered if he was really that paranoid you would poison it.
“And where did you find… it?”
“Ryuu actually found me,” You replied, more than a little bit surprised that you had exchanged this many sentences and hadn’t yet felt the heat of his glare. “I was only a child when me met, but we’ve been together ever since.”
You turned back to the coffee as Robin arched an eyebrow, “It found you?”
“Ryuu was bored and drawn to my power, so decided to stick around. After some hardships we bonded, and Ryuu became my familiar.” Pouring the coffee into two mugs, you added milk and sugar to yours, but paused before adding any to the other.
“How do you take your coffee?” You asked over your shoulder.
“Black.”
You snorted softly, muttering, “Of course you do.” But took the mugs over to the table, setting them down and taking a seat across from the vigilante you would be stuck with for an indeterminate amount of time. Over sips of your coffee, you took him in properly.
Robin wore the same costume as last night, a black armoured suit with red highlights and the slashing red ‘R’ that Gotham knew so well over his left chest. Black boots were armoured right up his shins, and matching armoured gloves and gauntlets adorned his wrists and forearms. In the morning light you noted the golden underside to his hooded black cape, and today the hood was pulled down so you could see more of his face than just the piercing glare from last night.
Silky black hair was messy and looked freshly ruffled. A domino mask covered his cheekbones, but the angular and regal features with strong jaw suggested middle eastern background. His eyes were covered by a surprisingly expressive thin white film, but even despite the mask, you could see he was undoubtedly handsome.
He seemed to be taking you in at the same time with far more intensity, and you couldn’t help feeling laid bare under his gaze, as if he saw far more than he should.
You cleared your throat and looked away and were annoyed to find Elizabeth and Carol making themselves comfortable on the couch while watching you both with bright curiosity. You sent a glare their way and took a breath, figuring it was time to try and clear some of the air between you and your protector.
“So… I thought you might be right, a little bit.” Robin snorted into his coffee at that but stayed silent on seeing your sharp look. “It probably is worth you knowing at least a basic overview of my powers.”
Robin’s gaze sharpened and he placed down his coffee, leaning forward as all traces of fatigue were immediately erased in the face of a new curiosity. But he said nothing, staying quiet as he waited for you to continue.
“My magic is old,” You began slowly, “I’ve had it since birth. Ryuu believes it may have been passed down through my lineage but…” You shrugged, “I don’t know my family. It’s death magic, for lack of a better word. I can interact with the dead, pull them back from the afterlife to speak with them. Or detach them or others from this realm to pass on.”
You glanced back towards the two ghosts leaning forward with rapt attention on the couch, shooting them a stern look as you spoke louder and far more pointedly.
“Which I will do if certain ghosts don’t leave me alone.”
Looking suitably unnerved, they both sat back and began to look around the room as if suddenly uninterested. Robin followed your gaze with a frown that looked vaguely disturbed, but he focused quickly back on you as you continued.
“There are also… other attributes, such as an ability to see glimpses of the future. This is often done through skin-to-skin contact or meditation. There are others but,” You looked uncertainly towards Robin, “That’s the main stuff.”
He watched you quietly for a while, the frown never easing as he took in all you had said.
“So you communicate and have power over ghosts, and you can see the future?”
You tilted your head to the side, there was a bit more to it than that but...
“Basically, yes.”
Robin’s head turned now towards the couch you had glared at earlier.
“And are there ghosts here?”
You glanced back towards where Elizabeth and Carol were doing a poor job of looking unexcited at being indirectly addressed.
“Yes, two women.”
Robin’s eyes narrowed back in on you, “Have you talked to them?”
“Yes.”
“What do they want?”
You wrinkled your nose over at the pair, who were stealing glances between you both.
“Just to exist, apparently.”
Robin appraised you again, pointing out unhelpfully,
“Do you cover your skin to minimise contact? You’re not doing it now.”
You sighed, quickly catching on that your guard was going to be a silent type until he actually wanted something, and would then become insatiable in his curiosity.
“Honestly, I wasn’t expecting you to be out here,” You admitted, “Usually I’m more careful to cover up.”
A deeper frown your way.
“We shouldn’t be here long, but I’m planning to – “
He suddenly cut himself off as his gaze slid behind you and the white lenses of his mask widened. A moment later you heard the slide of a window opening behind you.
You realised three things at once.
Firstly, you were on the second story with no balcony.
Secondly, only you and those on the roof last night were supposed to know you were here.
Thirdly, whoever was breaking in was probably a danger to you.
You whipped around in your chair out of instinct alone, reaching out a hand to physically guide your mind as it sought out the two glowing tethers of the men coming through your window. The temperature in the room plunged as you sunk into your power, and the lights flickered as your breath misted in front of you.
Closing your fist, your power wound tightly around the tethers, and the two men came up short just as they got inside, one immediately choking and falling to his knees as he clutched his chest, and the other stumbling to a stop with a grunt.
But the second man – wearing a strange red mask - rallied far faster than you expected, and his hand went for a gun holstered on his thigh.
You stood as your fist tightened further as you concentrated in on his tether, effectively choking it as you gave a warning tug. The second man now gasped as well, and thumped down onto a knee as his arms went slack.
“Stop!”
The sudden yell of Robin from behind you had you immediately releasing your hold on the men, and they each sucked in large breaths as if oxygen starved.
Robin quickly came around your side and towards the men, and to your surprise, looped an arm around one of them to help them to their feet.
“Nightwing?”
Nightwing? Oh wait. Oh... fuck.
At last you recognised the two vigilantes that were slowly getting to their feet. Nightwing helped by Robin who then quickly released him, and the other the Red Hood himself, pulling himself up to his enormous height to turn his red mask Robins way.
“Thanks demon spawn, I knew you cared,” His voice was breathless, but he seemed surprisingly calm for having just had his life toyed with.
Robin scowled heavily his way as he moved away again to stand loosely between you and them. Just who he was protecting from the other, you weren’t quite sure.
Nightwing was spluttering a little and rubbing his chest.
“What the hell was that?”
You cringed and tucked your hands up under your armpits, “Sorry, I just heard someone breaking in and reacted.”
Red Hood was now appearing to stare at you, the expressionless red mask giving nothing away.
“It felt like my soul was going to get sucked out of my body.”
You shrugged, shifting nervously in place. “Well, more or less. I had a hold of your life force, I was just trying to keep you down.”
The three men now stared at you in shock, Nightwing at last speaking.
“Our life force? What if you pulled a little harder?”
“You’d die.”
The Red Hood cocked his head.
“It didn’t seem to affect me as much.”
“No...” And you were curious about that, having felt the difference yourself. You reached out with your mind to carefully manipulate his tether again, finding his bond to life brighter and stronger than the man next to him, “For some reason your attachment to this plane is stronger than most, I had to try harder.”
Nightwing and Robin appeared to exchange a significant look, but Red Hood was taking a step back as he no doubt felt your power surge again.
“Okay, forget I asked,” He said quickly.
You pulled back, and he seemed to sag in relief. As the use of your power died, the temperature in the room rose significantly. You never noticed the coolness attached to your powers, but the others looked relieved and rolled their shoulders, standing up straighter. The use of your abilities did have the effect of scaring off the women on the couch, who had fled at the first flicker of power and disappeared.
Robin’s mask was pulling down into a frown as he regarded you, perhaps noting your eyes returning to their usual blue, or maybe realising just what sort of power you actually held. But he soon turned towards the pair that had entered and crossed his arms, the posture seeming defensive.
“Why are you here?”
“We came to see how your babysitting gig was going,” The Red Hood said cheerfully, seeming no worse for wear. Nightwing rolled his eyes.
“We thought we’d stop by after patrol to drop off some things. You wanted added locks and curtains?”
Red Hood now dumped a bag on the floor, the contents clanking as he did so.
“And spare uniform, since we know you hate being a grub like me. We also came to tell you you’re about to be out of action for the foreseeable future.”
“What?” Robins tone was one of surprise and immediate anger, and his crossed arms left his chest to fist at his sides.
Nightwing frowned at Red Hood, and you wondered if he would have preferred a different approach to telling to your clearly volatile guard. But he sighed all the same and began to explain.
“We went for the Grey Hawk Gang last night again, but they were ready for us,” He sounded both frustrated and defeated, “Pretty much all of the major players got away and went to ground. Now they know the Batman’s after them, they’ll stay low and careful for a while.”
Appraising the pair again, you now saw the slightly tattered appearance to them both, with smudges of dirt and scorch marks over their clothing and small tears in places. You noticed in particular a tear in one of Nightwing’s gloves had lots of dried blood around it, and you realised with a start just how big of a fight it must have been.
His gaze flicked towards you on sensing your attention, a sympathetic expression overtaking his frown as he realised you’d seen the injury. He wandered over to the kitchen sink to pull the glove off and began to wash the worst of the blood and dirt off.
“It might be some time before the threat has passed.” He said over his shoulder.
Before you, Robin seemed to deflate, and you almost felt bad for your guard as he asked harshly, but with a clear note of dejection.
“I don’t suppose he’s going to let me out of here.”
Red Hood chuckled as he casually leaned back against a wall to cross his arms, “Nah, B isn’t happy at the moment. You know, it’s kind of nice not to be the one he’s pissed off at for once.”
Robin was quickly glaring again.
Apparently having finished cleaning his wound, Nightwing wandered back towards you all, stopping by your side with an easy grin.
“He’ll come around; I’m sure B will let you out to help once he realises the dark horse he’s got on his side.”
You saw it too late.
The friendly, gloveless hand clapping down towards your shoulder, your skin bare thanks to your tank top. Robin saw it too, his wide eyes and warning coming far too late. You flinched away, but not fast enough.
Nightwing’s bare hand contacted with your shoulder, and you stiffened as their world dropped away.
You suddenly stood in what looked like a hospital room, watching from afar as a man with the same floppy black hair and athletic build as Nightwing stood next to a tall woman with strange orange skin and glowing green eyes. Between them they held a small child, a boy. Both were beaming down at the infant with enormous grins filled with love.
The scene was sharp and in focus, but quickly faded after only a few seconds and you gasped as you abruptly surfaced again.
Blinking rapidly, you came back to the small lounge to find the three men present had stepped back and were watching you warily. Nightwing looked guilty, but Robin in particular watched you with an intensity you were not expecting.
“Amira?” He inquired as you seemed to come back into yourself.
Still gasping slightly in surprise after being forced into the vision, you looked across to Nightwing with wide eyes. You had lived in Gotham long enough to easily recognise Dick Grayson, the first and most well-known ward of billionaire Bruce Wayne. You attempted to hide your stunned expression, instinctively knowing the outing of one of their identities would not be taken kindly.
“Congratulations,” You instead said quietly as you tried to gather your thoughts, “Your boy is going to be beautiful.”
For a few moments the man looked confused, but soon his face lit up into a bright, beaming joy.
“A boy? We’re having a boy?”
At your small nod he whooped loudly and turned to the Red Hood who patted him on the back with loud congratulations. But again, you noted Robin looking at you carefully, just watching you with that very intense gaze of his. You wondered if he might guess you had seen the man behind Nightwing, but he stayed silent.
You escaped his heavy gaze by wandering back to the small kitchen and beginning to rifle through the fridge and cupboards to see just how much food you had. You pulled come cereal and milk out to make some breakfast but noted the numerous spices and other traditionally middle eastern ingredients that had been stocked with pleasant surprise. Maybe you would make something from your home country tonight, a way to make yourself feel slightly more at ease.
You wondered over the relationships between the men behind you. Clearly they were all very familiar, which wasn’t surprising given they were all part of the small group of vigilantes watching over Gotham day in and out. But it seemed Nightwing and Red Hood had a more teasing relationship with Robin, who for some reason was almost as hostile with them as he had been with you.
Behind you, you heard the others talking in lowered voices, and you kept your hands busy as you unashamedly listened in.
“You’ll be fine,” You recognised Nightwing’s low voice, “We’ll be as fast as possible, but you know how these things go.”
“This is a punishment, you know it as well as I do,” Robin’s harsh voice replied.
“Well, at least you’re stuck in here with a gorgeous bringer of death,” The distorted voice of the Red Hood was teasing, “Who knows, maybe you’ll get to compare your favourite ways to kill people.”
A thud and a low curse sounded from behind you.
“Robin,” Nightwing’s tone was almost that of an admonishing parent, “It shouldn’t be long, we’ll keep you in the loop. Just… play nice, yeah?”
“I don’t need reminders on how to behave,” The reply was acerbic, “Now get out, both of you. I have work to do.”
Taking his words as their cue to leave, you finally turned back with your cereal and grabbed a spoon, making a show of disinterest in their conversation as you set it down on the table and pulled your coffee close.
Nightwing and the Red Hood were walking back towards the window, but Nightwing turned back towards you at the last moment, raising a hand in farewell as the guilty look from before returned.
“I uh… I’m sorry. But your words were a gift.”
You shrugged, knowing the vision hadn’t been his fault. Now you knew you could never let your guard down, as soon as they left you would be covering up. At least Robin still seemed to be avoiding you like the plague and keeping his distance.
“You didn’t know.” You reassured quietly, “And congratulations again.”
The joyful look returned to the man’s face before he turned towards the window they had entered through.
“Alright, keep in touch, Little Wing.” He said in farewell.
“Next time use the door like normal people,” Robin grumbled in reply.
You had the distinct impression that Red Hood was grinning under the mask, “Now where’s the fun in that?”
Both vigilantes quickly disappeared out the window and grappled away.
As they left, Robin turned back to you with narrowed eyes. You took a bite of your cereal, chewing while you met his gaze steadily. At last, you swallowed and sighed at his continued but pointed silence.
“What?”
“You saw Nightwing and his child?” He demanded.
“Yes.”
“I don’t suppose he was still in his ridiculous leotard in your vision.”
Your spoon froze partway up to your mouth. Damn. It slowly lowered back to your bowl.
“He was not,” You admitted quietly.
Robin’s eyes narrowed further, and you decided you had better speak up now.
“I’m not going to tell anyone,” You said, “Besides, you’re going to be with me for the next who knows how long, so you’ll know if I try and do anything with that knowledge.”
He didn’t seem convinced, and his suspicion was clear, “You’re not going to be here forever, what’s to stop you from selling the information once you’re out?”
You frowned as you chewed through another mouthful.
“Well, you’re either going to have to kill me, or trust me.”
The eyes locked onto yours slitted entirely in a distinct impression of mistrust.
“You can’t do anything here, so don’t even try,” His words were nothing less than a threat, “And if you do anything with that information once you’re out, I will know.”
You merely crunched through another mouthful of cereal, completely calm.
“Okay.”
Robin seemed a little taken aback by your ready agreement, but you had no intention of repeating your findings, so you had no reason to worry. But seemingly ready to now let the topic lie, he slowly slid into the chair across the table from you, watching you once more with poorly concealed intensity.
“What did you do to Nightwing and Red Hood as they came in?”
His requests for knowledge came off as a demand, and you paused in your eating to peer at Robin closely. Despite the harshness to his voice, he didn’t actually seem angry, just… intense in his pursuit for information.
“Like I said, I held their life force.”
“You mentioned attachments to different realities earlier?”
Again with the curiosity, and somehow he had picked up on small throwaway comments you had made in regards to your abilities. No wonder he had been the Batman’s Robin for so long, his attention to minor detail was impressive.
Settling more comfortably into your chair, you tilted your head at Robin as you took another mouthful. You found it strangely comforting that the deadly and quick to anger vigilante had a trait as simple as curiosity that made him seem just a little more human to you. Thinking it through, you found you didn’t mind sharing more details on your power than you had originally planned. He now had to trust you with the knowledge of his colleague’s identity, it was only fair you trusted him with some of your own secrets.
“There are two realities I seem to work between,” You started slowly, “This one, where people are tethered to this life. And the afterlife, from which I can pull and push ghosts between by holding onto and manipulating these tethers.”
You continued when Robin remained silent, “When people enter the afterlife, their spiritual body appears to be eternal, so I can often find and pull them back if I find some physical relation to their past life in this plane of reality.”
“Spirit or ghost?”
“They’re the same. I usually say spirit for afterlife, ghost if they’re still hanging around in this reality.”
Robin hummed, “What are these tethers?”
You lifted a shoulder as you quickly got another bite of cereal down, “I don’t know exactly, soul or life-force, perhaps? I see them almost as bright ropes that bond people to this life. My abilities let me manipulate them how I want, I can pull, choke, or even dissolve them.”
“So you are literally holding people’s lives in your hands…” Robin seemed to muse to himself, before speaking more directly, “You physically see them? Can you physically hold them?”
You took a sip of coffee to give yourself a moment to think. Robin’s own coffee was long forgotten on the table as he leaned forward with singular intent.
“My abilities are only within my mind, but I seem to have a very physical manifestation of my mental powers. It helps me to imagine them as being physically present.”
“Can you recreate these tethers once they are broken?”
“Not really, if I pull a spirit from the afterlife, I seem to be able to temporarily establish a tether long enough to speak to them. As soon as I stop concentrating, it dissolves, and they return to the other plane.” You smiled wryly, “My powers are definitely centred around death, rather than life.”
Robin’s fingers drummed on the table as he thought.
“Can you do what you did to the others, to me?”
You blinked at him in shock, for a moment sure you had misheard, “What?”
“You manipulated their tethers, yes?” Robin seemed impatient, “Can you do it to me?”
Unable to help yourself, you stared at him dumbly.
“You want me to essentially play with your life?”
Robin nodded firmly, “If we are ever in a situation where you need to use those powers and I’m around, I want to be prepared for the feeling so I can fight through it.”
You continued to stare, almost convinced he was joking despite not seeming the type, but his mind seemed to be made up.
“I mean… okay?”
You put down your spoon at last and concentrated on Robin, who drew himself up straight in the chair in preparation.
“Ready?”
A single nod with a look of determination.
Focussing in, you saw Robin’s tether light up before you, and you sunk into your power once more. The temperature dropped immediately, and both of your breaths soon misted and mingled between you in the frigid air. You knew your eyes would now be glowing white as your power surged, but the man before you didn’t react at all to the change. Reaching out with your mind, you carefully brushed your power against the glowing strand, and Robin stiffened in front of you, but otherwise made no move.
Trying to warn him with your eyes, you now folded your power around the bond and squeezed gently, tugging at where it attached him to this reality and to life itself. Robin grimaced and his hand jerked seemingly subconsciously towards the katana sheathed at his side, but he quickly stilled again.
Thinking that was probably enough to at least give him a feel for what having his life and spirit manipulated felt like, you pulled your power back and let go entirely. Again, the temperature rose quickly and the overheads lights stopped flickering.
Robin breathed out harshly before you, rigid posture slumping a little, but you found you were grudgingly impressed at how he had handled it. He cleared his throat.
“That was… uncomfortable.”
You smiled briefly at the clear understatement, “You did far better than most. In fact, I think only the Red Hood has ever been able to push through it like that.”
Robin scowled at your words, seeming irritated that his colleague could have done better.
“That’s because the bastard has a trump card,” He muttered.
Your head tilted as your interest spiked, so there was something different to him. But you kept your questions inside, and merely picked up your spoon once more, determined to finish the rest of your breakfast before it went soggy.
Robin pulled his coffee towards him and took a sip, immediately scowling into the cup as he no doubt found it cold. Standing to put the mug in the microwave to warm it again, he turned back towards you as he waited, arms crossing again in a way you now recognised was him meaning business.
“So,” He began grudgingly, “It seems we’re going to be stuck here for a few more days, so let’s lay out some ground rules.”
Almost finding his immediate return to annoyance amusing, you arched an eyebrow at him, willing to play along.
“Alright, let’s hear it.”
His scowl deepened as he seemed to read the mild humour on your face, he continued more stiffly.
“You stay inside and out of sight at all times,” He began to list off demands, ignoring the ding of the microwave announcing his coffee was hot again, “I’ll be awake and patrolling at night, so likely sleeping through part of the day. If I’m asleep, you stay inside, but tell me the moment you think something is wrong. Otherwise, you don’t come into my room at all. Got it?”
Pushing your now empty bowl of cereal away from you, you shrugged. You weren’t pleased at the idea of always staying inside, but you weren’t stupid. You were in a safe house for a reason, the last thing you wanted was for someone from the Grey Hawks to see you outside and link you back here. While it sounded like their bosses had gone underground, you knew their smaller players would no doubt be out and about still searching for you.
“Okay.”
Robin blinked at you, once again surprised at your calm agreement.
“But I have some rules of my own.”
Now the frown returned, displeased that you had your own demands.
“What?” He growled.
“Don’t touch my bare skin,” You started, “This morning was an accident, I’ll make sure to always cover up from here on. Unless you want me to know your identity too, stay away from me.”
Robin snorted, the sound all derision, “What makes you think I’d ever want you to know my future?”
You rolled your eyes at his enmity, “Well then we won’t have a problem, will we?” You carried on before he could reply, “Also, if I’m meditating don’t ever interrupt me. Its only happened once but if I don’t come out of it naturally, I can get stuck between realities for hours.” You grimaced, “It’s not fun.”
Further curiosity bled through the irritation on Robin’s face.
“You said meditation is another way you can see the future?”
“Yes, usually more general futures related to myself.”
“So skin to skin contact is more person specific,” He determined.
“Correct.”
“Right.” He paused, “Is that it then?”
You nodded.
“Fine,” Apparently deciding the rule laying was over, he turned towards the bag that had been dumped on the floor by Red Hood and began making his way through it. You stared as he began pulling locks, folded black-out curtains, and an insane number of weapons out of it to lay them out across the floor in neat piles.
As he worked, a small black beetle made its way under the door and morphed into the familiar black kitten. But Ryuu’s nose twitched as it moved further into the room, and your familiar quickly grew into a massive panther as a growl rumbled up its throat. Robin whirled around at the sound but stilled on seeing the panther with a muffled curse.
“Is that Ryuu?” He asked warily.
“Yes.”
Others have been here. Ryuu growled into your mind.
“They were other vigilantes,” You were quick to reassure, and Robin glanced at you as you spoke aloud. “They are friends.”
Robin snorted at the word and turned back to his work sorting through the weapons.
One of them smells wrong, like death.
“He felt strange to me also,” You admitted. “His bond is strong.”
Turning back to you with a glint in his eye, Robin quickly picked up the gist of conversation.
“Is this about Red Hood?”
“Ryuu says he smells of death,” You passed on. To your surprise, Robin smirked, the expression highlighting his handsome features for a moment before it quickly disappeared.
“I’ll have to pass it on.”
You narrowed your eyes at your guard, realising he knew exactly why his colleague might smell like a dead man.
“Why does the Red Hood smell of death, Robin?”
At your direct question, he frowned at you. “You don’t need to know.”
A Lazarus Pit, Ryuu rumbled, snuffling around the window and still growling aloud. It must be.
“Interesting,” You murmured. Robin’s eyes flashed between you both, reading the realisation of knowledge on your face.
“What did it just say to you?” He demanded.
You smiled sweetly at him and echoed back, “You don’t need to know.”
Scowling harshly, Robin huffed before turning back to the items scattered over the floor. You also now took them in with interest. More katanas, throwing stars, batarangs, grappling hooks, smoke bombs, and a number of other weapons lay in neat piles.
Now appeased the new scents were not a threat, Ryuu prowled over to the weapons to sniff them as it shrunk back into its smaller kitten form.
At least your guard is prepared. He will be a strong opponent for Seer’s enemies.
You smirked, And perhaps for myself.
What does Seer mean?
He is quick to anger, there is much I do that irritates him.
Ryuu turned its yellow eyes to look at you.
You think he will turn against you?
You shook your head. No, he has honour, I can tell that much.
Robin may be hostile, but you didn’t think he was truly angry with you; more the situation he had found himself in. Plus, you had now seen at times the anger was just as quick to recede and be replaced with civil conversation borne from his curiosity.
The Seer has touched him?
Ryuu was asking if you had read his future, which would give you direct sight into how the two of you were likely to interact. If Robin was going to betray you or let you down, you would know. But…
No, and I will not.
Ryuu bared its teeth. How will the Seer know if he will be a good guard?
Trust, Ryuu.
A displeased hiss from the kitten had Robin again raising his head and looking between the pair of you. Ryuu ignored him.
Trust is in short supply for my kind. The ancient yellow gaze now turned onto Robin, who returned the gaze warily. I shall watch the Robin until this trust is earned.
“What is it doing?” Robin clearly noticed the increased attention from your familiar, who now sat in front of him to watch him unwaveringly, tail tucking across its paws with the finality of one who was not prepared to move for some time.
“Ryuu doesn’t trust you,” You admitted, “It is going to watch you until that changes.”
Robin glared at the small kitten before him.
“I have secrets I do not wish to be passed on,” He snapped.
Ryuu bared his teeth, but allowed, Ryuu will be discreet.
You passed on your familiar’s words, and Robin let out a displeased grunt.
“Not good enough.”
“Well it seems the lack of trust is mutual,” You couldn’t help your small smile, “But good luck getting rid of Ryuu.”
Robin and Ryuu glared at each other, but seemingly at an impasse, Robin went back to his work, muttering under his breath. Ryuu’s eyes glowed at the small victory.
Robin soon stood with the locks Red Hood had dropped off in hand.
“What are those for?” You asked.
“Extra protection for windows and doors.”
You looked towards the window Nightwing and the Red Hood had opened so easily and raised an eyebrow.
“That’s fair. Do you want help?”
The look Robin sent you was so disgusted that you actually flinched.
“Fine, Gods above,” You muttered, “I was just asking.”
It didn’t take him long to install the multiple extra locks to the door and windows, but by the time he was done, you could see fatigue starting to slow his movements. You held your tongue from pointing it out, guessing he wouldn’t take kindly to the assessment of his reduced alertness. As Ryuu had promised, he shadowed Robin around the small apartment as he worked, a fact that Robin seemed increasingly irritated at.
But once he finished and moved to the neatly packaged black-out curtains, you spoke up again.
“Let me do those at least.”
As the resulting glare was turned onto you, you huffed in exasperation.
“Look, you’ve been up all night, and I haven’t got anything to do today. It’s not like it’s hard to swap some curtains out.”
The glare hardened, but apparently deciding you couldn’t screw up some curtains, you were afforded a small nod of agreement.
At last returning to the microwave, Robin pulled his coffee out only to find in the time it had taken for him to get to it, it had become cold once more. With a disgusted expression, he finally gave up and poured the drink down the sink before turning to you.
“I’m going to bed,” He muttered to you, expression a little awkward, “Make sure you stay inside.”
You wrinkled your nose at him, “I know.”
Shooting you a sharp look, Robin turned on his heel to sweep off into his room, shutting the door behind him. Noting the small black beetle that followed him scuttle under the door, you grinned as an angry yell sounded shortly after.
“For fucks sake!”
The door swung open again and Robin glared out at you, pointing down to the small kitten now purring wickedly at his side.
“Get your familiar out of my room!”
You smiled more widely, asking smoothly, “What would you like me to do about it?”
“Damn it!”
Seeing your clear refusal to help, Robin snarled and slammed the door, shutting out your laughter that echoed down the hallway.
Chapter 4: Forced Proximity
Notes:
Hello all! Another installment for you <3
As always I adore the kudos and comments, thank you all so much for the feedback I'd love to hear your thoughts. And as always, take care of yourselves :)
Chapter Text
AMIRA
After so many years alone, it was strange to live with someone else.
Ryuu had long been a companion to you, but even your familiar was mostly silent as it prowled around your last apartment while in and out between hunts. So learning to coexist alongside another person, especially a stranger, was something that seemed as new to you as it was to your guard.
The first evening, you had decided to make use of the numerous ingredients in the cupboards and spent a few hours perfecting a meal of Foul Mudammas – a fava bean meal with hummus and pita bread on the side. It was one of many meals you remembered from your home country of Egypt, and the familiar smells and taste had you smiling happily as you finally sat down to eat.
At some point late in the afternoon, Robin had woken and made his way out into the kitchen, sniffing the air with his usual frown.
“Good morning,” You said brightly, quickly moving to the still warm food on the bench to pull together another meal. He watched with his frown steadily deepening as you turned back to him with a full plate and placed it down across from yourself.
He sniffed again, eyeing the food as surprise crossed his features.
“Foul Mudammas?”
You blinked in similar surprise.
“You’re familiar?”
“Of course, I had it many times as a child.”
You both fell silent for a moment, Robin eyeing the plate with a strange expression while you waited for him to take a seat with growing awkwardness.
“I… made enough for both of us,” You ventured at last, “But you don’t have to eat it.”
Robin looked at you, an emotion you couldn’t place on his face.
“You made this?”
You were completely baffled as to why he seemed so taken aback. Maybe you shouldn’t have assumed he would eat at your small apartment.
“Yeah?”
Robin looked back to the plate, sniffing again.
“Is there meat in it?” He asked.
“Um, no. It’s the traditional way, vegan.”
He stared a little longer, and you shifted on your chair as you waited for his verdict, at last exclaiming in exasperation,
“It’s not poisoned, I promise.”
Robin snorted at that, but at last sat across from you and pulled the plate closer. You watched as he took the first hesitant mouthful and swallowed.
You arched an eyebrow. “Not dead yet?”
He shot you an annoyed look and took another mouthful.
You ate in silence, but you were pleased to see Robin seemed to enjoy the meal, as he finished it quickly and pushed the empty plate away with mumbled thanks. Trying to hide the small smile at the reluctant gratefulness, you asked,
“Are you vegan?”
He glanced up sharply at the question, hesitating to answer as if it could somehow be used against him.
“Vegetarian.”
You nodded, trying to keep the thrill at the small admission of personal information from crossing your face, “Cool, me too. That makes cooking easy.”
Robin swallowed, looking vaguely uncomfortable even as his frown didn’t waver.
“You don’t… have to cook for me.”
Flicking your gaze down to your food, you wondered if he felt awkward accepting the meal, as if he might owe you. If anything, it was you who owed him.
“Well, I’ll be cooking enough for us both anyway,” You answered carefully, “So if you keep the cupboards stocked, I can keep doing dinners. Plus, you’re doing all the work anyway.”
You kept your gaze away as he considered the offer you had put forward as a deal, something the prickly vigilante might be more inclined to accept. Trying not to fidget under the intensity of the gaze he regarded you with was difficult, but you were quietly delighted as he finally answered.
“Alright.”
He left soon after that, but on waking the morning after and padding into the kitchen – this time wearing your usual turtleneck and gloves – Robin was already there. As you entered, he stood without a word and poured a cup of coffee, adding milk and sugar, then placed it down on the table slightly harder than needed. He stared you down with a glare, as if daring you to comment on the small kindness he had allowed.
Despite the temptation to tease, you simply sat and silently accepted the offer of trade. You were stunned to find the mix of milk and sugar was exactly replicated from yours the morning before, the mix you preferred easily achieved without you ever having to speak a word.
And so the routine began.
Robin continued to patrol during the nights, and each morning you crossed each other briefly as you woke and came out for breakfast to find his exhausted self bent over a coffee. But each morning he would stand and make you a cup so you could both sip them over a silent breakfast before he retired to bed, followed by a diligent Ryuu that he still attempted to shut out.
You had the days to yourself until mid-afternoon when you would begin to cook a new dish each day. With the right ingredients on hand, you got researching and found you enjoyed challenging yourself with other half-remembered dishes from your childhood.
Robin usually woke at some point late afternoon and would then take over the living room space to train. Sometimes you watched from the corner of your eye, and sometimes outright stared as he showcased a level of skill you couldn’t fathom as he twirled a rotating roster of weapons. You found the displays… distracting, despite his adamant ignorance of your presence during them. You had to admit you found the man attractive, and probably too interesting for your own good. His ever-grumpy exterior only made you want to dig further, because you were getting small glimpses of something else beneath.
When you found yourself starting to stare, you began to retreat during his training sessions back into your room to light some candles, meditate, and attempt to find some semblance of peace.
One afternoon you had slowly risen back to alertness after mediating to find Robin leaning against your doorway and watching you, Ryuu settled at his feet. His posture suggested he had been there for some time, and your candles backed this as they burned low. You blinked heavily, at last convinced it wasn’t a hallucination and he actually was standing there in silence.
“You know it’s kind of weird to stand there watching me, right?”
Your voice rasped a little as it always did as you moved fully into this reality, but your words were ignored.
“What sort of things do you see?” He asked. Demanded.
With a sigh, you unfolded your stiff legs and stretched them out before you.
“Possible futures, they come in flashes,” You explained as you reached for your toes. “Some are easy to understand and will happen as I see them; some are more difficult and blurry and change often.”
“Are the futures all related to you?”
“Usually, or to people I come in contact with.”
He frowned at that, but the baseline expression turned wary and guarded as his jaw flexed, “Do you see futures related to me?”
Blowing out the candles around you covered for your hesitation to answer, “Sometimes.”
All the time.
For whatever reason, living with your guard meant he dominated most of what you saw. While the futures were often quick moving and blurry, as if his life were a mess of changing thoughts and decisions, you often saw the rotating faces of the other vigilantes intertwined with him in a jagged way. It was a show of rocky relationships and confused feelings, and after seeing them you often thought back to the strained way he had interacted with his peers days before.
But one face showed up even more often than those people, including more than the Batman himself – yours. It made you nervous, because it indicated that your futures might be more intertwined that you had ever thought.
Seeing Robin for the first time on the roof that night, you had instinctively recognised him as the tall, silhouetted male from your last vision at home. It was clear to you that you were meant to stay with him, for what, you weren’t yet sure. But it was interesting to see that theme continuing and strengthening, indicating this was going to be far from a short stay.
You blinked up at the man still standing in your doorway.
“Do you want to – “
“No.”
His denial was harsh and firm, immediately breaking off your offer of a reading, or insight of any kind into what you saw.
“I have no wish to know my future,” He declared, suddenly hostile as he pushed off the doorway and glared heavily, “And you will do well to remember that.”
He spun and disappeared from sight, leaving you staring after him.
The other inhabitants of your safehouse were ecstatic to have company, and you found the presence of the pair of ghosts more welcome as each long day passed with nothing much to do.
You found out that Elizabeth had been murdered by her husband sometime in the eighteenth century. She had stuck around with the pure purpose of gleefully haunting her husband, and upon his death, had decided she liked being a ghost enough to stick around.
Carol had simply had the misfortune of falling down the inner staircase of the building twenty years prior, and when her anguished spirit had been comforted by Elizabeth, the two had become fast friends, so Carol had stayed as well.
You became privy to many spirited conversations between the two regarding the difference in traditional versus modern culture, and far too many inquiries on how your relationship with Robin was progressing.
“For the last time, we are not together,” You reminded Elizabeth firmly after a snide comment about your lack of providing children at your positively elderly age of twenty-one.
She sniffed and shook her head at you.
“A real shame,” She muttered, “Such wasted potential.”
Carol giggled, “It is a shame, but only because they’d have such gorgeous children.”
You glared at them both, “Do you really have nothing better to do than try and play matchmaker?”
Elizabeth glared back at you, as if it was your fault you weren’t providing her more entertainment.
“No, we do not.”
You snapped back, “Let me make this clear. I am not in any way interested in Robin.”
“But he’s ripped,” Carol waggled her eyebrows at you.
May the Goddess Anut have mercy on you, did they think you didn’t know that?
Damn Robin’s home workouts, because each time he took his armour plating and cape off in order to move more freely through his weapon drills and training, you were afforded an awfully good view of just how fitted the bodysuit underneath was against his well-muscled physique.
While he wasn’t as enormously huge as the Red Hood, and didn’t have the gymnast’s body of Nightwing, Robin was undoubtedly in peak fitness, mimicking a build closer to the Batman himself. Despite his heavily muscled body, it was tight and compact in a way that allowed him to move with an easy elegance, always seeming on the edge of moving into action while being unbelievably silent.
Why did the vigilante guarding you have to be so devastatingly gorgeous? It was so unfair. And with every murmured thanks after dinner, and every coffee he made you each morning – somehow perfectly sweetened without you ever having to show him your preferences – you were warming to him a little more each day.
Sure, he was as irritable and arrogant as they came, but you were becoming more and more convinced the constant irritation was hiding other emotion he just didn’t know how to show. You tried to ignore the strange growing fondness as best you could, and instead kept yourself busy with the ghosts.
Turns out Carol loved soap operas and drama TV shows, so you often left them on quietly during the daytime so she could get her fill while you were around. Meanwhile, Elizabeth enjoyed her boardgames, and all but demanded you either sourced some or made them yourself.
Robin had walked into your arts and crafts project one day as you struggled to make something resembling chess pieces out of plain paper and flour glue. He had stared around the bombsite before you with distaste.
“What is this?”
You sighed and slumped back into your chair, abandoning the mess before you as a lost cause.
“Elizabeth wants to play chess, but I can’t figure out how to make 3D pieces.”
He winced on seeing your numerous attempted paper mâché pawns tossed aside into the ‘failed’ pile.
“Why not dry draw the outlines, cut them out, and prop them up on a stone or something?” He drawled out the suggestion.
“I…” You trailed off as you stared between the mess of paper you had been struggling with and the grimacing expression before you. Cursing, you dragged your hands down your face. “Fuck, that would be so much easier!”
To your shock, a tiny smile crossed Robin’s face, disappearing so quickly you thought you may have imagined it. To further your shock, he stepped forward and grabbed a fresh piece of paper and sat next to you, dragging the chair a little around the table to leave ample space between your bodies. Reaching out to pick up a pen, he turned to look at you with an irritated stare.
“What pieces do you still need?”
“Um,” Was this actually happening? “All of them?”
Robin huffed, but quickly began drawing. You watched in astonishment as miniature, but beautiful renditions of each chess piece came to life on the paper in separate and carefully laid out groupings to ensure he didn’t miss any. Partway through his drawing, he turned to look back at you in annoyance.
“Do you want to get some rocks, or shall I do that too?”
His tone was snappy, but you wondered if it hid the embarrassment of being stared at while helping out. All the same, you quickly pushed back from the table and set off around the apartment to hunt down the few sad-looking fake plants that dotted some corners. Picking out the correct number of small stones from their bases, you made it back to the table as Robin passed you one finished sheet and some scissors.
You both fell into silence as you worked, you carefully cutting out each chess piece while Robin continued to draw them. You tried not to stare at each stunning drawing, amazed the grumpy and mysterious Robin bothered with something as docile as art. Eventually he finished, and as you cut out the last pieces, he carefully dabbed a bit of your homemade glue onto each rock to stick down a picture onto each of them.
As you worked, you marvelled at the vigilante beside you. A closet artist, clearly, there was great skill in the effortlessly drawn pictures of each piece that he had made his own. Brushing a finger over one finished rock piece, your mind silently changed from your first opinions of the hostile vigilante he had presented himself as.
Often silent, often angry, but still good and kind in his own way. As he worked his expression relaxed and became more open, and you were afforded a glimpse into what he might be like under the mask. You found you liked it, and you wondered if the other vigilantes had ever taken the time to see him like this.
After a good hour’s work, you both lined up the chess pieces in their assigned spots on a paper-drawn chessboard. The finished product even included a few of your misshapen pawns. They were only left in place after you had cooly weathered the heated glare turned your way when you added them to the board, until Robin gave in with a grunt as he at last looked away.
With a warm feeling in your chest and a smile on your face, you looked up at Robin across from you.
“Want a game, then?”
But Robin had looked up at your smile and soft expression, and the guarded look suddenly returned in full force. Abruptly, he pushed himself up from the table.
“I have to go.”
He disappeared out the door in an instant, and his dinner that night was left in the fridge untouched.
You couldn’t help the small spear of hurt, and maybe of concern, at the sudden exit. But you played chess a few times against Elizabeth instead and tried not to let your mind wander towards the puzzle that was your vigilante guard too many times. It seemed to be in vain, as Elizabeth got quite upset that your heart wasn’t in the game, and she won every time.
But on the next day, Robin came out of his room to find you playing a different game with an invisible opponent.
“Senet?” He asked in surprise on seeing your new makeshift board.
You also looked up, feeling a sense of déjà vu as he again recognised something from your childhood, “You know it?”
He nodded shortly, the guarded look still present, “Yes, I haven’t played in years though.”
Elizabeth cleared her throat and pointed to where she wanted her piece to go, and you simply sat back with a huff.
“Dammit, your game again.”
The elderly lady laughed in delight and stood, evidently pleased with her easy skill of a game she had only just mastered.
“Will you invite Robin for a game?” She suggested sweetly, eyes flashing with poorly hidden intention. You rolled your eyes but looked up at Robin all the same, deciding to invite him in again despite his abrupt dismissal yesterday.
“Do you want to play?”
This time he hesitated, and when he didn’t instantly reject your offer, you took it as a good sign and began to reset the board. You didn’t miss the way his eyes flicked to your hands, as if to ensure they remained gloved.
“I’m pretty rubbish at it,” You admitted, ignoring the look, “I only half remember the rules.”
Hesitantly, Robin sank into the vacated chair across from you.
“Just the one game,” He allowed.
Quiet victory thrilled through you, and you gestured for him to make the first move. You quickly began the back and forth of gameplay, and you were mildly surprised when he was the first to speak. His tone was quiet and uninterested, but he gave away his curiosity just by bothering to ask.
“Were you born in Egypt?”
“Yes,” You replied easily, “I was there until ten years old.”
“You cook as if you were there for many more years.”
Was that a compliment? Despite the flat way he had asked, you decided to treat it as one.
“Thank you, I always wanted to remember my culture, even if I wasn’t home anymore.”
Robin moved his piece, and you bit your lip as you tried to figure out your next play.
“Why did you come to America then?”
You answered distractedly as you gazed down at the board, “I was adopted by an American couple.”
A surprised look was sent your way, “Are they still around?”
Laughter bubbled up inside you as you at last moved your piece, “Oh no, I only lasted a week with them before they tossed me onto the streets.”
Looking up when Robin didn’t make an answering move, you were met with a frown.
“At ten years old?” He sounded angry, but for once it wasn’t at you.
Shrugging, you sat back, “My eyes glowed when I touched people, I spoke of things that would happen before they did, and I talked to ghosts. They couldn’t deal with it.”
“They threw you out!”
“Yes.”
“They could have taken you back to the orphanage, at least.” Robin was becoming more incensed and agitated by the minute, and you felt a strange need to reach out in some form of comfort.
You resisted, of course.
“Robin,” His furious eyes lifted to yours as you addressed him, “I know it was unfair and wrong. But there was nothing I could do about it then, and there’s nothing I can do about it now.” You gestured back to the board, “Shall we move on?”
Taking a breath, Robin looked back to the board and moved his piece before muttering.
“It never should have happened to you.”
Your agreement was quiet, “No, it shouldn’t happen to anyone.”
Still, it was nice for him to say so. You had long since worked through being abandoned, but it was strangely heartwarming to have the usually cold vigilante anger on your behalf.
There was a long spell of silence for a while as you played, and you were startled when Robin eventually spoke again.
“Is that when Ryuu found you?”
Your faithful familiar still dogged Robin’s every step, and it now looked around from its position curled up at his feet as it was mentioned. You smiled down at the kitten.
“Yes. Ryuu helped to feed me and keep me safe until I was old enough to start fending for myself properly.”
Robin hummed quietly as he made his next turn, and you wondered if you might now be able to ask him about his childhood and the similarities you seemed to share. You hesitated, but decided to take the plunge.
“What about you?” You asked as you mirrored his movement on the board, at this point desperate just to stay in the game, “Where were you born?”
You felt the sudden stillness of the man across from you and looked up to see the white lenses of his mask regarding you carefully. There was something almost sad in his expression, and you wondered if what you were seeing was loneliness. Robin’s deep voice was quiet as he answered, his suddenly gentle tone of voice making your heart ache.
“Amira, you can’t know anything about me.”
The use of your name sent a tingle racing down your spine, and for a long moment you held his gaze. In its intensity, you felt the weight of his responsibility as if it were your own, and you suddenly understood the sacrifice that being a vigilante was. Just like how your abilities meant no one could ever be close to you, no one could ever truly know him either. Saddened with the knowledge that you might be facing a man just as lonely as you were, you at last nodded slightly.
“I understand.”
It pulsed between you both, as one recognised the others burden and what that meant for them. The strange weight persisted over you both, so you at last stood with a sigh.
“Well, I definitely lose,” You said, attempting a wry smile. “Want to play against a pro?”
Robin looked up at you in some confusion.
“I’m sorry?”
You jerked your thumb towards the suddenly very excited Elizabeth and smiled teasingly.
“She’s a little old and she only just learnt the rules today, but she’s very good.”
The look sent your way was almost insulting in its silent questioning of your mental state.
“The ghost?” Robin glanced back towards the thin air you were pointing to and shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
All but gushing in her excitement, Elizabeth took your seat while Robin reset the board.
“Okay, you start.”
Robin began the play again, and Elizabeth quickly told you the counter move she wanted, and you reached over to move her piece for her. This time the gameplay was fast and ferocious, and while Robin still won, you were pleased that Elizabeth had at least given him a run for his money. Off to the side, Carol cheered while Elizabeth stood and preened.
On looking up, you saw the gaze turned your way was now pensive and seemed warmer than you had previously seen it.
“You know,” Robin drawled, “If you hadn’t of been so acutely appalling at this game in the first round, I’m not sure I would believe I just played Senet with a ghost.”
Was he teasing you? He was teasing you.
“How dare you!” Your outrage was poorly faked, so you poked your tongue out at him for good measure, and that almost-smile appeared again for a millisecond before it was gone.
Robin sat with you for dinner that night, and while the conversation was quiet and stunted, it was there.
After so many years alone, you almost enjoyed living with someone else.
Chapter 5: Warning
Notes:
Another one
- DJ KhaledThank you all for the kind comments and kudos 😊❤️
Chapter Text
DAMIAN
Despite his best efforts, Damian wasn’t loathing this assignment as much as he had initially believed he would.
To his great irritation, it was almost freeing not to be stuck in the Manor with Bruce, Alfred, and the plethora of other people constantly tramping through. The only barriers to feeling truly at peace for once was the stubborn kitten that wouldn’t leave his side, two ghosts he could neither see nor hear, and a frustrating yet beautiful woman who seemed determined to make him talk each day.
To be fair, he wasn’t actually around Amira much, only crossing paths with her briefly in the morning and for slightly longer in the evening before he left for patrol. It had been strange how easily they had fallen into routine around each other; it was even stranger how she seemed to be getting under Damian’s skin despite how easily she frustrated him.
Tonight he had woken with the familiar curled beside him purring loudly. Despite his love for animals, Damian was particularly unimpressed at how the small kitten stuck to him like glue, but at least it stayed mostly out of his way while it continued to spy on him. After dressing, he made his way into the larger apartment to find Amira arguing with thin air while she cooked. Ryuu wandered in after him and trotted forward to wind around its way around her legs.
“No Carol,” Amira’s tone had a bite to it that indicated she had been arguing for some time, “I’m not coming over to change it now, I’m busy.”
Her frenzied stirring of the curry before her seemed to increase as she glared at the space beside her.
“By the Gods, Elizabeth, get out of the kitchen,” She snapped, “No I don’t need tips! Besides, your eighteenth-century cooking would probably kill someone nowadays.”
Damian stepped out of the doorway, torn between annoyance at the loudness of the room and grudging amusement at the cause. It was amusement he would never let her see, and he injected layers of irritation into his voice as he spoke.
“What’s going on?”
Amira jerked her head up to look over at him, her usual beaming smile on seeing him half-hearted due to her own annoyance. The sight still made Damian stop and take it in. Her face was expressive enough he could read nearly every minute emotion just off the surface, and the way the small woman reacted to each minor thing had become something of interest to Damian, who often wondered if he would one day be able to predict each expression before he saw it.
Not that he would be around Amira long enough to get to that stage. But still, he watched.
Amira’s expression now was one of acute exasperation.
“Carol wants me to change the channel,” She explained in a huff, “But she can wait.” Then, no doubt hearing something Damian could not, she whipped around to glare towards the couch. “It’s not on yet! It doesn’t even start until seven!”
Damian sighed, deciding it was up to him to keep some sort of peace. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck between multiple fighting women in a small apartment, even if he only had to actually deal with the one of them. He strode across the room to pick up the TV remote.
“What channel does she want?” He muttered.
“Whatever one Grey’s Anatomy is on,” Amira paused as she turned back to the food on the stove, “Channel two, apparently.”
Damian clicked the channel over, and sure enough, saw Grey’s Anatomy was the next programme lined up.
It still made him feel uneasy, the clear and continued evidence of ghosts, proof that the spirits of the dead didn’t always crossover. While he had seen plenty of magic in his time, Amira’s brand of death magic made him uncomfortable in a way he hadn’t felt before. Perhaps it was a mere uneasiness at being faced with mortality, perhaps it was how effortlessly she had held his brother’s lives in her hands days earlier, or possibly the way the icy grip on his insides had made him feel utterly helpless for the first time in his life.
Shaking himself out of it, Damian made his way over to the small kitchen, sniffing appreciatively at the air as he grew closer to the slowly bubbling food. He had always thought Alfred the best cook in the world, and he often refused food entirely if it hadn’t come from the elderly butler. But on smelling Amira’s cooking that first night, Damian had been transported straight back to his childhood and the tastes of Arabic cooking.
Alfred had made middle eastern dishes before to good likeness. Damian had appreciated the very good attempts, but they held nothing to the truly genuine way Amira cooked many of the same dishes he had grown up with. Watching her now, he saw the ingredients measured with heart, not equipment. And each step was made and cooked to taste with instinctive knowledge, not description of whatever article happened to cover the dish.
It reminded him of the very few nights where himself and his mother had sat down for a dinner she had cooked, for once not surrounded by others of the League. During these times Talia had seemed more open, more at ease, and she had often told Damian tales of her life and answered questions without the threat of punishment for lack of knowledge that hung over him elsewhere. They had been nights that Damian had cherished, as they had been some of the few times that a child had been able to feel the love of his mother without expectations as large as destiny standing in their way.
Feeling a strange nostalgia creeping up on him, Damian stepped up to the side of the still seething Amira.
“Can I help?”
Amira looked up at him with a strange triumph in her pale blue eyes, and Damian realised with a start that he didn’t usually offer his help to anyone, yet he’d done so to this stranger more than once now. He made sure to quickly rearrange his features into a deep frown, but her gaze only darted past him to stare at something next to him.
“See Elizabeth, I’ve got actual help,” She smirked, “Now get your ghostly ass out of here!”
Damian could have sworn he felt the faintest breeze against the back of his neck, and he stiffened in place. Amira was entirely unconcerned as she began to stir the curry once more.
“Thanks Robin, could you just dish out the couscous?” She pointed at a large pot, “The curry will be done in a moment.”
Damian and Amira worked together until a feast for two was laid out on the table. Vegetable curry, couscous, salad, flatbread, and hummus all sat between them. The smell was divine, and when they finally both sat to eat, Damian piled his plate high. As usual, Amira’s cooking was nothing less than delicious.
“So, Carol’s been on a medical drama grind,” Amira began her daily recount between mouthfuls, “Which is fine until she watches shows I actually want to see. I had the Good Doctor spoiled for me because it was on in the background and I wasn’t paying attention! And of course she actually wants to talk about them so - ”
Damian regarded Amira as he ate, watching the unguarded and open expressions flitter and change over her features. It was strange to him how entirely unconcerned she was at opening up so freely to a stranger, but she gestured wide as she talked about herself and her favourite shows all the same. Usually topics such as this held little interest to him, and when his siblings began to prattle on about such matters, he was quick to shut them down. But as Amira continued to recount her day with the ghosts, her animated way of retelling the events was strangely entertaining to him.
And so tonight, he tolerated it. And he wondered at how intensely his mind studied the graceful lines of the face across from him, and why his hands ached for a paintbrush.
After washing up after dinner, Damian was quick to escape the small apartment and the weird new feelings and behaviours that were coming with it. Situating himself on the rooftop across from the apartment, he didn’t have to wait long before he had company.
A small rush of wind was the only notice Damian had of Nightwing’s approach. He didn’t bother to turn and instead kept his gaze trained onto the windows of the small safehouse he was chained to.
“Hey, Little D.”
Dick’s greeting was warm, as always. But he kept some form of distance, and Damian was pleased as usual that he had grown to match Bruce’s height, causing Dick to finally give up on constantly reaching out to try and ruffle his hair.
A grunt was his return of greeting, but Dick was well used to it by now, and stepped forward without comment to sit on the side of the building and also face Damian’s current prison.
“What’s this? Another stray?”
Dick’s tone was amused, and Damian followed his gaze down to the black kitten curled up on the roof next to him. He glared at it for good measure, making sure the familiar knew its presence was still not welcome.
“This is Ryuu, Amira’s familiar,” Damian grumbled, “I can’t get rid of it, just be careful what you say.”
Dick sent him a look of surprise, but seemed willing to look past it, reaching down to scratch the small kitten between its ears. Damian was mildly stunned that he kept his fingers, but Ryuu did make sure to raise its head to stare unblinkingly at Dick, a warning if he had ever seen one.
Quickly pulling his hand back, Dick glanced back to him,
“How’s it all going?”
Damian shrugged as he peered at the windows across from him, pleased that the black out curtains were doing their job and now blocking all light from escaping the deceptively abandoned building.
“It’s not absolutely terrible,” He allowed, “However, I would not like to be here much longer.”
Dick turned to him with a raised eyebrow.
“From you, that’s almost a glowing recommendation,” He noted, “So living with the Deathweaver isn’t so bad after all?”
The Deathweaver – the name that had finally been uncovered by Barbara after a significant amount of digging into the Gotham underground. Jason had been particularly annoyed that the name of such a powerful sorceress had escaped him on ‘his turf’.
Barbara had only found the vague reference to Amira after a cryptic message was placed onto dark web forums discreetly asking why she had disappeared. She was reasonably sure it was a front for the Grey Hawks themselves, trying to test the waters for rumours on the Deathweaver’s whereabouts.
Only last night, the rest of Gotham’s resident vigilantes had joined a video call for general updates on the ongoing Grey Hawk Gang situation. They had been intrigued by Dick’s account of Amira’s powers, then alarmed as Damian passed on what he had learned so far.
“How has someone like her been missed for so long?” Stephanie had demanded to the group at large.
Tim took a sip of the coffee that was forever glued to his hand, “She’s not the first person to be able to kill people with their minds,” He pointed out.
She is the first we haven’t known beforehand, Cassandra was frowning as she signed rapidly.
Barbara was tapping a pen against her forehead as she thought.
“There’s been plenty of powerful magic users through Gotham before; Zatanna, Constantine, Etrigan, Fate… Magic leaves a signature, right? If she is so powerful, how could none of them have picked up on hers?”
“I don’t like that we hadn’t even heard of her,” Jason growled, arms folded crossly, “She’s clearly got a rep for giving actually legit readings, I don’t understand how that’s stayed under our radar.”
Ever the optimist, Dick had held out his hands.
“Woah, team, let’s not jump to conclusions. Maybe she just wanted a quiet life?” He tried to be the voice of reason, “After all, she’s the one that finally approached us.”
Jason rolled his eyes, “Yeah, when she needed something.”
“If she’s as powerful as Damian is saying, I think she could have done okay on her own,” Stephanie pointed out, “But she chose to make herself known.”
Cassandra nodded slowly in agreement, She would know it would change everything for her.
Listening intently until now, Bruce at last seemed to focus in on Damian.
“Damian, what do you think?”
He had crossed his arms and thought hard. He found himself thinking back to when he had first met Amira, the pale blue gaze that had flicked his way as she refused to stay with Zatanna.
Destiny demands it.
Amira knew something, or had seen something, that had spurred her to come to them for help. While she definitely needed to get away from the Grey Hawk Gang, Damian had to admit that fleeing Gotham entirely would have been a much easier and safer option for her.
“She came to us for a reason,” He said at last, “We just don’t know what that reason is yet. As for how she’s stayed outside of our knowledge, I will find out.”
Finding out had taken a back seat over dinner tonight, Damian finding himself unwilling to interrupt Amira’s chirpy monologue only to pump her for information. It was because she would suspect he was passing on all her secrets, he told himself, he didn’t want her to suspect that her admissions were not staying with him. That was all. It definitely had nothing to do with the small prick of guilt he felt on immediately outing everything he learnt from the overly trusting woman to the others.
Coming back to the present, Damian folded his arms at Dick’s pointed question, immediately feeling defensive, “I dislike rubbing shoulders with anyone, Grayson. But I admit Amira is far from the worst I could imagine.”
Dick seemed to take on board his posture, and wisely turned away again, knowing Damian’s next step from defensiveness was likely violence.
“Well, Alfred’s worried that you’ll be wasting away in there,” Dick smiled as he changed the subject, “He’s offered to cook you some meals, I can drop them off for you tom – “
“That won’t be necessary.”
Dick’s jaw actually dropped as he stared at Damian with a stupid expression.
“You don’t… want them?” After a moment he recovered a little, looking concerned, “You know, if you’re not coping, I can talk to B about getting someone else onto the assignment.”
“I am coping just fine, Grayson,” Damian countered hotly, trying not to let the offense at the suggestion hit too deeply. But the worried look persisted, and so he huffed in annoyance and explained in a gruff voice.
“Amira is cooking for us both.”
Dick’s concerned expression turned to one of quiet shock. Damian understood why, it would usually be a cold day in hell before he allowed someone besides Alfred to cook for him, let alone a stranger. Let alone a very dangerous and powerful stranger with a number of answered questions hanging over them.
But as he watched, a strange interest quickened behind Dick’s eyes, followed by a look of excitement that was quickly smothered.
“Okay, wow,” Dick kept his answer surprisingly calm, and Damian watched him with suspicion, knowing his adopted brother had come to some sort of conclusion, but not knowing what that was.
“Well, I have an update on the Grey Hawks?”
Dick was trying to distract him, but Damian was willing to let himself be sidetracked. Being questioned on his forced living arrangements was not how he wanted to spend his night. He uncrossed his arms.
“Fine. Let’s hear it.”
“We managed to capture one of the bigger players last night,” Dick began, and Damian immediately leaned forward as his hope for being allowed out of the guard assignment surged, “We’ve not only got a name of the mob boss, but locations of a bunch of places to check out.”
“So who is it?”
“Carbine Slater.”
Damian frowned, disappointed, “I’ve never heard of him.”
“Neither have we,” Dick admitted, “So now we’re looking for a ghost. But we at least have places to start.”
Damian began to pace, and Ryuu’s head came up to watch his agitated wanderings.
“You should let me out, we can sweep these locations and isolate in on Slater.”
“Damian,” Dick’s tone was gentle but firm, “We can do that, but Amira still needs protecting, they’re still clearly after her. You know that post about the whereabouts of the Deathweaver?”
Damian stopped his pacing and thought back to the forum uncovered by Oracle.
“What about it?”
“Someone answered asking for a meeting.”
Frowning, Damian considered that news.
“So they might have information, and we’re not going to be privy to that exchange since it’s in person.”
Dick nodded. “Babs is trying to figure out the identity of the other user, but by the time we figure it out…”
The information could already have been exchanged. Damian let out an annoyed sigh.
“Fine, I’ll stay,” He glared at Dick, “But you guys had better hurry up.”
Dick merely smiled, appearing amused, “You know we’re doing all we can.”
Nightwing left soon afterwards, and Damian watched him swing and flip between the buildings until he was out of sight. Left by himself once more, a feeling of melancholy settled on his shoulders like a weight. Out of the entire family Father had created and all those attached to it, Damian knew he was closest to Dick, his brother arguably having raised him just as much as Bruce had. But his eldest brother now had his own family to turn to and look after, and thanks to Amira, they now knew it would be a son soon joining them. It would leave no time for Damian, and for the first time since joining the family, he felt alone.
Back in his days at the League of Assassins, the loneliness was a part of who he was, what he was destined to be. It had never bothered him then. But now…
A small meow caused him to look down to see Ryuu padding up to him and brushing against his boot. Damian snorted, quickly shaking off the emotion. So much for being alone.
His patrol around the many streets of abandoned housing complexes was as boring as all the other nights had been, but he came out of it with a sense of satisfaction, knowing there were no threats to their safehouse lingering nearby. At some point it started raining, and Damian was quickly soaked by the chilling Gotham downpour.
As the dawn finally began to break, Damian alighted on the roof of the abandoned complex they inhabited, and Ryuu – as a small blackbird – fluttered down to land on his shoulder. He would have pushed the familiar straight off him, if he hadn’t already become so used to its small weight each time he paused somewhere on patrol over the last six nights. Much like with Amira herself, he was learning to tolerate the presence.
As Damian made his way down the levels of the building itself, he swept through each room briefly to ensure they remained unoccupied. The last thing he needed was a lone squatter seeing the two of them and passing on the information. But the rest of the building remained empty, and Damian shook off what water he could before at last letting himself into their apartment and beginning to make himself a coffee.
Ryuu jumped off as they entered, and on becoming a small cat once more, wandered towards the couch to settle atop it and begin cleaning the rainwater off itself. It didn’t take long for Amira to also emerge from her room. She seemed to get up with the sun, and rubbed sleep from her eyes as she stumbled into the longue.
On seeing her, Damian diligently stood and began to make her coffee as she slid into a chair. He had taken it upon himself since the first morning, deciding if she was going to cook him dinner each day, the least he could do was to return the favour in a small way. While doing so the first day had burned his pride, each day it had become a little easier.
But on turning back to Amira with steaming coffee in hand, he paused on taking her in properly. She sat in the usual emerald turtleneck with black pants and gloves, but this morning she frowned instead of smiled, and stared down at her drumming fingers on the table.
Damian couldn’t help thinking this dangerous and effortlessly graceful woman would be exactly the sort of person his mother would have one day set him up with to marry had he stayed with the League. Excluding her upbringing, which could no doubt be overlooked, he was almost certain Talia would have been overjoyed to see someone as dangerous as the Deathweaver so comfortable in his space.
But still… The sight of Amira in simple grey sweatpants and singlet from the first day seemed to stick in his mind. She wasn’t just the Deathweaver, she was a woman of her own right, and one he didn’t think would ever allow herself to be used the way the League would have wanted.
Pushing the thoughts aside and carefully placing the coffee down in front of her, Damian sat across the table.
“Is something wrong?”
Amira looked vaguely startled as she glanced up. But she sighed heavily and slumped into the chair as she pulled her coffee close.
“I don’t know,” She mumbled, “I’ve got this sense of danger, it’s distant and not focused yet but…” Trailing off for a moment, she seemed to shake herself and get back on track. “I think the Grey Hawks are on the right track to finding us.”
Damian took a long sip of his coffee as he thought. He would be stupid to ignore a warning from someone who could literally see the future, especially with Dick’s fresh warning about the forum messages fresh in his mind.
“How sure are you?”
“Not very.”
She twisted a lock of long black hair around her finger in a nervous gesture. Damian couldn’t help his gaze locking on, the gleam to her raven black hair alluring. What paints would he have to mix to get a black as dark as that? Was the shimmer in her hair closer to a blue or a silver?
“The future keeps chopping and changing, it’s not in very good focus,” Amira mused, and Damian snapped his attention back to her, “Maybe decisions haven’t been made yet, maybe they won’t find us at all, I just…” She sighed, “Something isn’t right.”
Damian hummed thoughtfully, “Everything was quiet on patrol tonight,” He relayed, busying himself with a sip of his coffee, “But I can do an extra sweep of the building, double check our locks, and make sure our grab bags are ready to go on my bike downstairs.”
“Okay,” Amira seemed placated and her worried look receded, her blue gaze holding far too much trust for someone that didn’t know anything about him, “Thank you.”
Chapter 6: Escape
Notes:
Damian's starting to realise there's something a little different to Amira; he doesn't hate her, so that's a good start? Amira is just happy to have a friend... even if that friend is very pretty and mysterious. So let's throw in a little near death experience to really get things going, yeah?
As always thank you for the kudos and kind comments, I adore the feedback <3
Take care of yourselves and take special care over the full moon to avoid the crazies - or if you can't avoid them - join them :)
Chapter Text
DAMIAN
A heavy weight crashing into Damian’s stomach had him jerking awake and upright with a gasp. Eyes flying open and automatically reaching for the dagger always kept under his pillow, he saw a massive black shape with yellow eyes now sit down next to him, open its jaw, and yowl loudly.
“Ryuu!” Damian cursed as he let go of the dagger, at last recognising the enormous black panther at his side, “What the hell?”
On seeing he was well and truly awake, the familiar jumped down to the floor and began scratching aggressively at the door.
“What are you doing?” Damian snapped its way, “You can get out without me.”
Ryuu turned to look at him and yowled loudly again before scratching at the door once more.
“Do you want me out?”
Another yowl.
“Okay, okay.”
Damian was quickly up and out of bed. Grabbing his uniform, he glanced aside at the time to see it was still a few hours before he usually woke. Frowning at Ryuu, who was now scratching again at the door impatiently, concern began to worm its way through his irritation.
“Ryuu, you understand what I say, correct?”
Ryuu paused to gaze back towards Damian and meowed.
“Alright, one meow for yes, two for no. Understand?”
Another single meow.
Great, communication established. Bodysuit now on, Damian grabbed his armour plating and began sliding it on quickly.
“Is something wrong?”
Meow.
“Is it Amira?”
Meow.
Shit.
Swiftly pulling on his hooded cape, Damian picked up his katana and weapons as he hurried out, slotting them into place as he wrenched open his door and turned into the hallway, yelling,
“Amira?”
“Robin!”
His relief on hearing her was short lived as she shot out of her own room at a sprint and immediately careened into him, bouncing straight off his chest. Damian instinctively stepped forward to catch her as she almost toppled, and Amira’s hands also steadied herself on his chest.
For a second, they stared at each other in shock, before quickly stepping back from their impromptu embrace and away from each other. Damian’s hands burned where they had held her, and he could only put it down to his aversion to touch. Amira’s cheeks flamed as she pulled her own gloved hands tight in against her chest, but her earlier urgency quickly returned.
“Robin, we have to leave,” She said urgently, “They’ve found us, we have to go!”
“Wait, what?”
“The Grey Hawks!” She exclaimed, “They’re here!”
Damian listened hard, but there was no sound except for the gently growling panther behind him that was no doubt reacting to Amira’s alarm.
“Amira,” He said her name firmly as she opened her mouth again, “Slow down. Start from the beginning.”
She took a breath, twisting her fingers together anxiously.
“The ghosts warned me, they saw people gathering in the streets outside. So they went out and saw they were watching this place,” Another breath, “So I got Ryuu to wake you while I meditated, and I saw them coming in here!” Her eyes were wide in remembered fear, “There’s so many of them, and they’re so close!”
This… was not good. Fist tightening around the hilt of his katana, Damian started down at her as his mind whirled. An attack sounded imminent, but hopefully they could get out before it came.
“Alright, here’s the plan,” He kept his voice cool, and thankfully, Amira seemed to calm down and focus in reaction to him, “Get together anything you still need that’s not in the grab bags, then we get down to my bike in the garage and get out.”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Damian instinctively turned at the sound of grapple hooks thudding into the wall just outside the windows of their apartment. Cursing under his breath, he diligently pressed the distress beacon on his gauntlet, knowing Father would be particularly displeased if he didn’t warn someone he was under attack. Unsheathing his katana, he glanced back towards Amira as he strode out into the lounge.
“Change of plan, we go now.” Taking up a ready stance, he saw multiple figures dressed in dark clothes whizzing down the lines towards their building. “Get behind the couch,” He barked, “If you have to, use your powers!”
Amira ran forward to crouch behind the couch, and a black figure slipped out from the hallway after them and grew. Ryuu prowled forward to stand at Damian’s side, now a slavering black wolf that was almost as tall as Amira was.
“You with me, Ryuu?” He muttered.
The giant wolf glanced sideways and snapped its jaws. Damian took that as affirmation.
“Good,” Damian lifted his sword higher, “Here we go.”
The windows exploded inward as the first figures dressed in the signature dark grey masks of the Grey Hawk Gang barrelled through. Damian lunged towards the first of them, pulling his cape up to shield himself from the flying glass, and kicked the figure so hard they went flying back out of the window they had just come through.
He paid no mind to the receding scream as they fell, and immediately whirled to slice the guns being held by the others in the room in half.
As there was in most fights between strangers, there was a short moment in which they paused to size each other up. It was Damian versus six, pretty good odds, especially since a couple of them looked particularly nervous to be facing down Robin – now armed only with the small knives they pulled from their belts and boots. The others that didn’t look intimidated by him were definitely giving sideways looks to the massive growling wolf at his side.
Sheathing his katana and instead swapping it for a pair of short batons seemed to be the catalyst for the fight to begin. The first man ran at him and Damian ducked aside, bringing a baton down hard on the back of his head, causing him to crash down to the floor, unconscious. Turning into the punch of a second man, Damian caught his arm and used the momentum to throw him into two more coming at him. Twisting on the spot, he lashed out a backwards kick to catch another in the face, feeling the satisfying crunch of bones breaking and leaving them howling as they staggered away while clutching their nose. Meanwhile Ryuu had pounced onto the last of them, and by the sounds of the growls and shrieks coming from the pair, the wolf wasn’t being merciful.
“No killing, Ryuu!” Damian snapped.
Another growl was all the answer he got, but the familiar did let go of the shrieking man on the floor and turn to focus its attention on another.
But a scream caught his attention, and Damian jerked his head aside in alarm to see Amira was being dragged up by her hair from behind the couch by another man dressed in dark grey – having forced his way through the front door after no doubt making their way up the buildings inside stairs. Terrified blue eyes met his, and a gloved hand reached desperately out towards Damian as she was dragged roughly backwards.
Fury shot through him at the sight, but before he could react, Ryuu did, and the wolf abandoned its next target to leap almost the full length of the room to close its snarling jaws around the head of Amira’s assailant. But while the familiar succeeded in ripping the man off her, the momentum threw her backwards and Damian watched in horror as the back of her head cracked hard against the floor.
"Shit!"
Delivering a devastating punch into the face of the only person who dared keep trying to come at him, Damian took a running leap over the couch and to Amira’s side.
Thankfully she was already moving, dazedly trying to pull herself up from the floor to little success. She was moving too slowly, and Damian could feel the urgency of needing to get out quickly pulling at him. He didn’t know how long the Grey Hawks had known their location, but no matter what he did or how he reacted, they were going to be more organised than him and have the upper hand.
So, as he reached Amira, he simply picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. Grateful that neither of their clothing allowed for an accidental brush against bare skin, Damian took off running, ignoring the startled exclamation from the woman now draped over him.
“Ryuu!” He snapped the familiars name as he ran past, and the wolf immediately left the assailant now resembling raw meat and raced after him to match his stride.
He didn’t let himself slow down as he encountered more of the Grey Hawks men on the way down towards the garage where his motorbike sat, either taking them out quickly or setting Ryuu upon them as he raced towards their way out. Eventually they had passed enough of them that Damian barked out an order for Ryuu to stay behind them and watch their backs.
But on finally breaking through and out into the spacious garage at the bottom of the housing complex, Damian skidded to a sudden halt.
His motorbike, loaded with their grab bags, was where he had left it to one side of the garage. A couple of unconscious bodies even lay around it, indicating his anti-theft devices had worked a treat. But standing dotted around the garage were at least twenty men, each training the business end of a gun his way as he came into view.
Shit. This was really not good.
Quickly assessing the situation, Damian kept his reaction slow so as to not spook a potentially trigger-happy mobster.
“When I put you down,” Damian said in a low aside to Amira, “Stay back with Ryuu.”
To her credit, she picked up on the sudden change to atmosphere despite not yet being able to see just what he had come against. Amira stayed silent as Damian carefully lowered her to her feet, keeping an arm wrapped around her waist until he was sure she could stand without him.
Once she was standing, she turned to see the gathered force before them and sucked in a breath. She still looked a bit dazed, but Amira clearly understood their predicament by looking even more alarmed when Damian stepped away from her side.
“No!”
Her whisper was terrified and pleading, understanding that he was moving away so that when he was killed, she at least wasn’t caught in the crossfire.
A sudden loud growling and howling sounded from just up the staircase behind them, followed quickly by agonised screams, and Damian realised Ryuu was now engaged in protecting their backs and could not get Amira out either.
Slowly, not taking his eyes off the men grouped before him, Damian drew his katana once more to hold it tightly in front of him. The distress beacon on his gauntlet had stopped blinking, showing him that someone at least was responding towards him. But it didn’t really matter anymore. With the amount of firepower aimed his way, Damian wasn’t going to walk out of this.
As he lifted his katana higher, he considered the end. This wasn’t how he wanted to die, or how he had ever really envisioned it, but he sure wasn’t going to go down without a fight. However, Damian found that he was particularly perturbed by one singular detail.
Amira.
His death would all but sentence her as well. Without him in the way, she would be taken by the Grey Hawks to be used however they wished. And Damian had heard a fair few rumours about how the gang treated their prisoners, and the thought of Amira being one of them made him feel sick.
But as the men before him each lifted their weapons with early victory glowing in their eyes, Damian heard a quiet, smooth voice from behind him, and felt the first threat of a chill whisper down his spine.
“Robin, prepare yourself.”
He had a single second in which to steel himself against the suddenly frigid air before a small hand reached out in his peripheral vision… and fisted.
The sudden clench around his heart and guts was as if a real hand made of ice had plunged inside him to grip him hard, threatening to rip him inside out with absolutely nothing he could do about it. But the sickening feeling was familiar, and Damian thanked his lucky stars as he was able to overcome the awful feeling to throw himself forward at the few men left standing.
Some were already unconscious, some were on the floor openly weeping, others stood with skin so pale they might as well be ghosts already. Each were stricken with an expression of absolute and utter fear on their faces as they took in the sight before them, perhaps finally realising the woman they were after was all but death itself.
Amira’s eyes were aglow, shining with a bright, swirling white that sharply contrasted her black hair and the shadows that had slunk towards her as if drawn by the display of power. They coiled and whipped around her form as her hair did, moving as if a wild wind surrounded her despite the icy stillness of the space.
One by one, the group of mobsters slumped. From the left of the group, they each fell into unconsciousness as Amira turned her attention on them, either finally slipping into sleep or falling as they succumbed to the incredible freezing feeling that all but suffocated their souls.
Damian therefore started at the right of the group, racing forward to knock each person out as fast as possible until he seemed to meet Amira’s power in the middle. Behind them, Ryuu’s snarling was getting both closer and louder; they were running out of time before the second group was upon them.
At last, there was no one left standing in the room except Damian and Amira themselves. Peering down at the bodies, some of them were so pale and still that Damian wondered if they actually had died. But on focussing on each of them at a time, shallow and slow breaths could still be seen, puffing out white into the freezing air.
Turning back to Amira as the temperature in the room suddenly began to climb again, Damian was alarmed to see she was pale and swaying on her feet as her eyes moved back to their usual blue, she looked moments from joining the others on the floor.
“Amira?”
Darting over, he reached out instinctively to steady her, and she leaned heavily into him. Her body felt ice cold despite the rising temperature of the room, and Damian tucked her in closer as his concern spiked, all intention for keeping distance fleeing in the adrenaline of the moment.
“Haven’t… done a group that big before,” She murmured, eyes drooping.
“We still need to get out of here,” Damian glanced over her shoulder to see the massive beast that was Ryuu trot into the garage with jaws full of saliva and blood. The familiar jerked its head towards Damian’s bike, indicating they needed to go.
Pressing Amira closer to his side as he all but dragged her over to the bike, he asked.
“Are you okay to hold on?”
Gods, if she couldn’t, he would have to put her in front of him which would be less than ideal. Perhaps Ryuu could –
“Yeah.”
It wasn’t often that Damian felt relief, and it indicted just how serious their situation was that he felt it now.
“Good.”
Leaping onto the bike, Damian gunned it into life while Ryuu nudged Amira on behind him. Small arms wrapped around his waist as she pressed close, at least her grip was tight. As soon as she was on, Damian keyed the garage to open and Ryuu slipped out to immediately fall upon the few people left waiting outside. The second there was room, Damian sped them out, racing past the enormous wolf and screaming gang members and off down the street.
Finally, they were free.
Damian took them as fast as he could out of the district and towards the edge of the city itself, his only aim to put some distance between themselves and the Grey Hawks in case they had somehow managed to follow them. It was late in the day, but the downpour of rain from last night had continued, and the pair on the bike were quickly soaked to the bone. But while Damian’s Robin suit was made of fibres that would help keep him warm despite the rain, Amira was not so lucky.
Ten minutes into the trip she began to tremble, and Damian felt the shivers against his back. But he pushed them onwards, knowing they had to get more distance than what they currently had before they could stop. He weaved through the heavy traffic of the main motorways, driving them towards the more sparsely populated streets at the outskirts of the city where people were less likely to point and gawk, and more likely to mind their own business and look the other way.
At some point on the journey, a large black eagle soared overhead, striking Damian as particularly abnormal for the streets of Gotham. But as the bird turned ahead and made a beeline straight for him, he realised it was Ryuu, and held out an arm so the familiar could make an easier landing. Just before the eagle hit him, it shifted to a flying squirrel, opening up fully to slow itself down before its small body wrapped itself securely around Damian’s arm as he zoomed past.
Scuttling up his arm, the squirrel then morphed to the small form of the kitten Ryuu seemed to prefer, and it climbed into the back of Damian’s hood, settling around the base of his neck and out of the rain.
“Okay, Ryuu?” Damian asked. He had become concerned when the familiar had not made itself immediately known after they had made their escape. A small meow in his ear was the answer.
“You’re not hurt?”
Two meows, and the kitten curled up closer to him and began to purr. Good, he would have hated to explain the loss or injury of the familiar to Amira. Not that he was growing in any way attached.
Speaking of, Damian began to notice the shivers at his back worsening, and the grip around his waist began to loosen. Knowing he was going to have to stop soon before Amira succumbed to exhaustion, Damian pulled off into a hidden alley he knew ended in the underside of a bridge crossing an inter-city river.
The area was thankfully empty of people, and Damian dismounted from the bike and turned to help Amira do the same. His chest tightened on seeing her white lips, and when she turned her head to look up at him, the movement was slow and lethargic and wracked by shivers. Her dark hair was plastered to her head from the rain, and her clothing was saturated and clung closely to her body.
Are you okay?
The words bubbled up inside him, but Damian repressed the useless question. She wasn’t, he knew that. And yet the need to help, to reassure, prickled in the forefront of his mind.
It wasn’t an inclination he often had, to put someone’s mind at ease. Damian supposed he took after his father in his usual approach of stony silence and snappy orders. But faced with the blank blue eyes that were usually sparkling with life, words slipped past Damian’s lips all the same.
“We’ll only pause here shortly.”
Was it reassuring? Not really, it didn’t even convey a lot. But it was all he had to try and bolster the sodden and exhausted woman before him. Amira gave a small nod all the same despite her drooping eyes, and Damian was staggered at the amount of blind trust in her silent willingness to let him take the lead.
But her eyes fluttered closed, and she started to slump to the side on his bike. Damian quickly darted forward to steady her with a hand on her shoulder.
“S-sorry.”
Amira struggled to right herself, her words slurring. A small hand reached out to steady herself against his arm, and despite the hand feeling like ice even despite the layers of clothing between them, Damian’s skin grew warm under the casual touch.
Obviously, like earlier, the tingles he felt were due to hating being touched, so Damian ignored them and instead helped Amira to her feet so she could stagger a few paces away from the bike to sit on the footpath.
“Ryuu,” He murmured, keeping a hand on Amira’s shoulder to keep her upright, “Can you warm her?”
The kitten in the back of his hood crawled out and jumped down to the ground with a small mew. But as it hit the gravel, Ryuu began to grow until it reached the truly enormous size of a grizzly bear, at which point it curled around the shivering Amira who sank back against her familiar.
As she pulled her knees close, Damian unclipped his hooded cape and swung it over her shoulders, taking care to avoid the rain-slicked skin of her neck despite the gloves he wore. His hope was that the cape would at the very least keep out the wind, or hold what little body heat she still had in. Amira pulled the cape in tight around herself as her eyes closed again, and Damian grew even more worried when the usually quick to smile woman didn’t so much as acknowledge the gesture.
Taking a few steps away, Damian rolled his shoulders and steeled himself against his own mounting exhaustion as the adrenaline dipped, before at last keying into his commlink.
“Oracle? Robin here.”
“Robin!” Barbara’s relieved voice answered immediately, “I’ve been tracking you, what happened?”
Damian frowned as he stared across the river, “The Grey Hawks found us, I’m not sure how. We managed to escape, but it was… close.”
He was hesitant to say how close. Without Amira’s help, he genuinely didn’t think he would have made it out, and that was far too close for comfort. Barbara seemed to hear the hesitation to the statement that spoke volumes, because her tone grew considerably more worried.
“Are you injured?”
“No.” He was quick to answer, no doubt this would be passed on to Father soon enough – if he wasn’t already listening in.
“What about her?”
Damian glanced back towards Amira at the indirect mention. While the use of her magic had clearly exhausted her, he was more concerned about concussion and hypothermia being the main cause for her lethargy. Neither were things he could assess or treat while sitting under a bridge.
“We need somewhere to hole up and recover,” Damian said, hoping Barbara would read between the lines and see the urgency, “Do you have somewhere?”
“Yes, but it’s out in Blüdhaven.”
“That’s across the city!”
“It’s the only place that’s set up right now.”
Damian bit back a curse and looked back across to Amira, who had her eyes closed as she curled in tight against the bear behind her. She looked pale and was still shivering. He didn’t have much of a choice, Amira needed somewhere safe to go, and quickly; but he was worried about making the hours trip back across the city on the motorcycle when she was already so weak.
“I’ll make it work.”
There was a pause from the other end, “Do you need any help? Spoiler and Orphan have just arrived at the safehouse now, they can – “
“No,” Damian had just spied something across the street, something that would solve their problems. “I have it under control.”
Another hesitation. “Okay. Keep us in the loop.”
Damian ended the call. After a moment, the location of the safehouse pinged up for him. He groaned, recognising the location instantly, but he had little option. Alright, it was time to sort their other problem.
“Amira?” Damian knelt back down in front of her, resisting the urge to reach out and try and shake her awake. Thankfully, her eyes blinked open on hearing his voice, albeit sluggishly.
“We’ve got a place to go, it’s safe, but it’s in Blüdhaven.”
Amira stared at him with blue eyes glazed with exhaustion. But she looked at least a little more alert than before, and as she seemed to at last register his words she began to attempt to sit up, “Okay.”
Immediately giving up on not touching her again, Damian pushed her back down against Ryuu with pressure on her shoulder, before quickly snatching his hand back as he felt the same strange warmth from before.
“Stop, you’re not going to make it the hour across town on the back of that bike,” He said bluntly, ignoring Amira’s slow blink down at her shoulder where he had touched her. “I’ll get us a ride, then we’re out of here.”
“A ride?” She echoed, looking back up to him, but Damian was now turning to Ryuu.
“Keep her safe.”
He could have almost sworn the large bear rolled its eyes at the order. All the same, the familiar wrapped itself a little tighter around Amira. Standing, Damian began striding away and across the street, feeling the Deathweaver’s piercing gaze linger on his back the entire way.
He quickly reached the destination he had seen while talking to Barbara; a run-down car yard.
Already having spotted what he wanted, Damian simply strode between the cars until he came upon the tiny building that made up the office in the middle of the yard. Barging straight in through the doors, Damian was met with two startled men as he slapped down five thousand dollars cash on the counter.
“I want the white van out the front,” He demanded.
The two men stared at Damian in acute shock, struck dumb by the sudden arrival of the Robin of Gotham dripping rainwater all over their office and demanding the most run-down van in the lot.
Impatient, Damian shoved the money closer.
“The van?” He pushed, “I want it off the books though, no documents.”
The oldest of the two seemed to recover first, and hesitantly pulled the money towards himself to count it, his eyes growing wider by the second as he realised how much cash he held. The younger of the pair continued to stare with wide eyes.
“I’m… not sure we can do that – “
“Done.”
The older man immediately spoke over him, no doubt seeing the asking price had been doubled in favour of discretion. He quickly got up and moved to a lockbox behind him, opened it and began to sort through the keys there.
“Is there anything else we can do for you?”
That was more like it. Damian crossed his arms.
“Make sure it has a full tank.”
The younger one started to speak up again.
“All our vehicles come with full – “
At Damian’s glare he cut himself off, face going white.
“I know how these places work,” He growled, “Siphon fuel off the other vehicles if you have to, I want it full.”
The older man all but yanked a raincoat over the younger one and shoved him out the door.
“Go! Get it done. And quick!” He turned back to Damian as the younger man all but ran out into the rain. His smile was genuine, but his hands twisted nervously. “Would, ah, would there be anything else?”
But Damian was looking out after the man running outside thoughtfully.
“Yes,” He decided. “I need his shirt.”
Chapter 7: Journey
Notes:
Lines start to blur for our duo <3
Chapter Text
AMIRA
You opened your eyes again to the sound of stones crunching under almost silent footsteps. Looking up, you were relieved to see it was Robin who stood over you. He looked as drenched as you were, and his normally carefully styled hair was plastered to his forehead in a surprisingly attractive way. But his brow was furrowed, and you wondered if he realised his concern was quite so obvious in his expression.
Struggling to sit yourself more upright, you had a helpful push from Ryuu at your back.
“Got a ride?” You tried to sound upbeat, but even your voice was weak.
Fatigue pulled at your body, making your movements clumsy and slow. You had never done well with cold, even the most frigid nights in Egypt didn’t compare to the elements of Gotham. The freezing wet only added to the numbness in your limbs and tired you further as you shivered uncontrollably. To top it off, you had a splitting headache and even having your eyes open sliced sharp pain through your head.
“Yeah, I’ve got a ride,” Robin answered. Even his deep and usually aloof voice carried a note of worry. He reached a hand down to you, the movement hesitant. “Come on.”
You stared at the hand reaching down for you, struck for a moment at the strangeness of the moment. You were never one to allow touch from others unless it was for readings, in fact, your whole life had been very removed from any sort of contact with others. Robin himself appeared to despise contact of any kind with other people, and yet here he was offering it.
Of course, you had made contact with each other before; grappling down from a roof, riding his motorcycle, or when Robin had carried you out of the safehouse just before, but those had been born of necessity. This seemed a very deliberate stray from the silently accepted ‘no touching’ deal between you both. The knowledge that you were now choosing to make even a small, brief touch was strangely overwhelming.
With movements just as hesitant as his had been, you reached up to place your gloved hand in his, and you both clasped tight.
Your weight was clearly nothing to him, as he pulled your easily upright. But you felt immediately woozy at the sudden standing position and stumbled. Robin’s hand quickly moved to your elbow to steady you, an unexpected grip you stiffened at, but his hand stayed firm as he guided you away from where you had been curled up under the bridge.
Ryuu rose with you and shifted back into the large wolf from earlier, pressing up against your other side to help keep you upright.
Seer is hurt and weak, Your familiar rumbled, sounding as concerned as Robin looked.
Trying to think back your reply worsened your headache, so you mumbled aloud instead.
“I’ll be okay, Ryuu.”
Robin glanced aside at you as you spoke, but didn’t comment on your words, instead pointing a little down the street at a nondescript van with heavily tinted windows. It might have once been white, but it was now hard to tell with the amount of rust covering it.
“There, it’ll be warm and dry to get us out of here.”
You stared at the van. As run down as it looked, you couldn’t help the feeling of relief that washed over you at the idea of being out of the wind and rain.
“What about your bike?” You murmured.
“It’s in the back already.”
Right okay, a tradesmen van then, with the back hollowed out and two seats up the front. You had to admit it was a good idea. As Robin had so eloquently put it earlier, you weren’t going to make the hour trip back across the city on the back of his motorcycle, and this was a good compromise to hopefully also hide your tracks as you travelled.
As you reached the van, Robin made sure you were steady before letting you go and opening the sliding side door. He gestured inside, where you could see his bike sat with a little space to spare in the rear compartment. But to your surprise, a folded shirt sat atop the handlebars.
“Here, I um…” His cheeks darkened slightly, and he looked away, “You’re not going to get warm in wet clothes. You should change.”
It said volumes about how awful you were feeling that you didn’t even have it in yourself to ask where the hell he had gotten the shirt from, and instead just stumbled inside the back of the vehicle. As soon as the side door closed you stripped, peeling your saturated clothes from your body and dumping them into a pile on the floor. Standing in just bra and underwear, you decided to leave them on and grabbed the shirt.
At first your shivers worsened, but on pulling on the far too large shirt that fell almost to your knees, the feel of something dry against your freezing skin was a nice change, despite the vulnerable feel of not having your skin fully covered as usual. Carefully picking up Robin’s cape from the pile you had discarded, you folded it and held the saturated material out from your body. It was only as you now held it that you marvelled that the grumpy vigilante had been so willing to lend you his cape. It was yet another attempt to help, another sign of care that had been as silently offered as many others. A small smile tugged at your frozen lips as you slid open the side door again.
Robin glanced you over before abruptly averting his eyes once more. He yanked open the passenger door for you as he took the offered cape, now careful not to brush against your bare skin despite his own gloves.
“Alright, let’s go.” His voice was gruff, and you wondered vaguely what emotion had turned it so, but quickly realised you were far too cold and tired to care.
Clambering into the passenger seat, the door was closed behind you and Robin was quick to jog around the vehicle to jump in the driver’s seat. A kitten again, Ryuu jumped from his shoulder onto your lap to curl up and purr soothingly.
Shoving the key into the ignition, Robin started the vehicle. He grimaced when it spluttered for a while, but it started eventually, and he upped the heaters to full blast before turning them in your direction.
You actually groaned at the first breath of warm air you had felt in an hour, and you instinctively leaned towards it, but noted Robin’s hands tighten on the steering wheel at the same time. Glancing sideways at him, you saw he was looking steadily ahead with a clenched jaw as he peeled the van out onto the street. A thought squeezed its way to your lips through the dense haze in your head.
“Aren’t you cold too?”
Robin seemed to take a deep breath, and the clenched hands and jaw slowly loosened.
“I spend the night in Gotham winters all the time,” His voice still held some of the same gruffness from before, “The suit can keep me warm.”
So while he looked miserable and drenched and somehow still gorgeous with wet hair flopped over his forehead, he was doing much better than you were.
You kept close to the heaters as Robin drove, and your head eventually came forward to rest on the dashboard as you closed your eyes. You soon lost yourself in listening to the steady rhythm of Ryuu’s purrs and counting the quiet breaths from beside you over the driving rain outside. As your shivers finally began to abate, your heavy exhaustion pulled you towards sleep.
“Amira.”
“Huh?”
Your eyes fluttered open again as you woke with a start, and you jerked your head up from the dash. Looking aside, you saw Robin glance aside at you as he drove, looking regretful.
“Sorry, I can’t let you sleep. At least not until I’ve assessed you properly.”
You were confused, “Assessed me?”
“For concussion...?”
Robin was frowning as he peered at you more intently. Right, you’d hit your head, and your confusion on the matter likely didn’t help your case. You made sure to nod as you murmured in agreement.
“That makes sense.”
But your head came back to rest on the dash. You were just so tired, and the blasting heat from in front of you was so nice, and there was a strange feeling of security that came with having Robin right next to you and in control. You trusted him to get you to your destination safely, surely you could just close your eyes for a moment…
Seer should talk to keep herself awake. Ryuu’s quiet rumble sounded in your head. The Robin is right, and Seer is not yet safe.
The familiars’ words had you pulling your head up and forcing yourself upright with a long sigh. Rubbing at your face, you grimaced against the throbbing pain in your head as you forced your eyes open. Your tired mind floundered for conversation, at last settling on the vehicle you were in with mild surprise that you hadn’t even questioned the sudden acquisition earlier.
“Where did you even get this from?”
“The van?” Robin looked your way again to see you nod. “I bought it.”
You turned your head to stare at him properly, “You bought it?”
“Yes?” He arched an eyebrow.
“When?”
“Just now.”
You were baffled, “With what money?”
A small smirk crossed his face as Robin looked back out to the road, “Batman’s money.”
Well, okay then. It seemed your guard was nothing but prepared, at least the money hadn’t come from his own pocket. You figured with all the fancy gadgets and vehicles Batman had, he could probably spare enough for this run-down piece of crap van.
You leaned back into the chair, reaching out a hand that had still had a mild tremor to it to pat Ryuu.
“Ryuu said I should talk to keep myself awake,” You said into the silence, then admitted, “But I’m having trouble thinking at all.”
It was a roundabout way to ask, but Robin thankfully seemed to catch on.
“Alright,” He paused as he made a turn, seeming to think. “Tell me about Egypt, what do you remember?”
Wow, okay, childhood questions. A part of you wondered why Robin had asked that instead of things about, say, your powers or something. But you also wondered if there was a part of him that had noted the enjoyed similarities in food and pastime, and possibly thought to look further into it.
“I was only there until I was ten, really.”
You took a deep breath, dragging your hazy mind back into the past, wondering where to start.
“I was born in Cairo, as far as I know. I remember the vast city, how busy it was, how many people always walked the streets.” At times the constant bustle of Gotham reminded you of it, just in a much darker and more claustrophobic setting. “Our orphanage was on the outskirts of the city. The older children worked in the fields with the fellahin to earn our food and clothing. I was young and female, so I was taught to cook and sew instead of work the land.”
“Did you have friends?”
You almost laughed, snorting softly instead because that hurt your head less.
“No, they didn’t like me much, I learnt early to keep my skin covered and my hands to myself. Sahira, they called me, witch.” The names had once hurt like a knife each time they were thrown your way, now it had become one of many in a tirade used against you your whole life. “The matron would forbid them from speaking of the glowing eyes I couldn’t hide when someone accidentally brushed my skin, and would punish me heavily any time I spoke of a future not yet witnessed, or a person the others could not see.”
Ryuu shifted on your lap, and you stroked the familiar’s head vacantly.
“I often wandered the streets at night to stay away from the bullies, they always took their opportunities when the matron was asleep.” Your voice grew soft as you came to your most treasured memory of your years in Egypt, “One night, a lonely night guard took pity on an orphaned girl and led me through the Cairo Museum despite it being closed overnight.”
You stared out at the driving rain, not seeing Robin’s head turn to gaze at you when you smiled softly.
“My six-year-old self stared up at the enormous statues of old gods, but somehow, felt bigger. Seeing such grand history was incredible, and hinted at something so much more to the world that the life I knew; led in the orphanage and doing nothing but surviving. From that night on I did all I could to learn of the ancient history of my country, and I began praying to the old gods, hoping that they might hear my prayers, my wishes for a better life.”
“And did they?”
Your head dropped to stare down at Ryuu as you continued to pat the small, purring kitten. A better life? You had come so far from your home country, been turned away from the promise of family, found a friend in Ryuu, made yourself a semblance of a living… and then lost it. Once again, you had been left with no place to call home.
“Perhaps.”
The van fell silent for a few minutes. You didn’t notice your head hanging a little lower until a small meow came from your lap. Robin glanced towards you and quickly spoke again.
“You said you were adopted?”
Forcing your head up, you laid back against the head rest, allowing your eyes to close as you answered.
“Yes, an American couple happened across our small orphanage. There were many children better suited to their clear status, but the matron was desperate to get the tiny witch out of the place, and all but threw me at the pair.” You smiled despite yourself at the memory, although the expression was a little twisted. “I managed to keep my abilities hidden long enough to get into America, at least.”
Robin’s following question was hesitant and brittle with repressed anger, already knowing the outcome.
“What happened?”
You shrugged, then grimaced when the movement made your head pound harder.
“A careless touch, I was taking too long to wake one morning so my adopted father grabbed my wrist. As soon as they saw my glowing eyes I knew it was over. They drove me across the country and dumped me in the streets of Gotham and didn’t look back. Demon, they called me.”
Another cruel nickname for the list. Robin was silent for a long time, but when he spoke, it was with a softer tone than you were used to hearing from him.
“For what it’s worth, I have met demons, and you are far from them.”
His words held truth, and you wondered at what Robin had experienced in his life to have come against actual demons. But his comment was probably the closest thing to a compliment you had heard from the vigilante at your side. You tried to remain unreactive to it, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. But your lips pulled up into a smile all the same and warmth spread through your freezing chest.
“I appreciate that,” You murmured.
Quiet reigned again, and you felt sleep begin to pull at you a little harder. Just as your breaths started to even out again, Robin spoke once more.
“So you’ve been in Gotham over a decade now?”
You awoke properly with a small jolt, and you pulled your head up to rub at your eyes with a small groan.
“Uh, yeah, eleven years I think.”
“And after all this time, no one had known you were there?”
You glanced over to see Robin was frowning out at the traffic lights before him, as if the red lights personally offended him.
“Only those I wanted to, Robin, and that’s the difference.”
His hands tightened on the wheel, a gesture of a frustration you didn’t understand.
“I don’t… understand how.”
Sighing, you shuffled around on the chair so you could bring your legs up under you – the perks of being small meant you could fit comfortably into the passenger seat while cross-legged. Ryuu was dislodged at your movement and gave a small huff of irritation but settled back down to drape over one of your legs. You appreciated the small furry body keeping your freezing body just that little bit warmer, despite what probably felt like a furnace inside the van to Robin.
“I wasn’t used to the streets of Gotham. Eating only when I stole or scavenged enough was going to kill me.” You worried at your lower lip as you recalled the painful beast that was starvation. “My first winter in Gotham was the polar opposite to Cairo, and I was desperate. So I offered a deal to one of the men at a homeless shelter.”
Your remembered pain quickly dissipated in a warmer memory. “Winston had always given me scraps of food when he could. As much as I could in that situation, I trusted him, and we became partners.”
Robin’s eyebrows rose, “Partners?” He echoed.
You nodded, “Winston managed to rope an elderly but rich gentleman on a street corner into having a reading done. Did he want to see his future? Did he want to speak to his past? I covered my face to remain anonymous and for the first time ever, I chose to use my abilities.”
“He paid enough that it became a regular thing. Me and Winston were a good team, and we were careful. Adding in just enough falsehood that people still believed it to be a parlour trick, but with enough fact that curiosity was spiked and it brought others in.”
You noticed Robin staring sideways at you, but merely shrugged, unsure if he would be silently judging or not. Perhaps it wasn’t the most honest living, but it had been living.
“After a few years we were able to rent a small room in a hostel, a few more and we got our own small apartment. It wasn’t much, but it meant we were off the streets.”
As your story came to a natural stop, you felt your face fall, knowing what came next. It was a tell that Robin immediately picked up on.
“So, what happened?”
“He died.” You heard your voice crack. Winston had been your one and only friend outside of Ryuu, and the grief was still raw and fresh. “A few months ago, Winston got pneumonia, couldn’t kick it.” You swallowed hard and pushed through the pain that gripped your heart. “After he passed, I had to foot the whole rent. I had to make concessions, add more truth to my readings for bigger tips, take clients I would normally pass over.”
“That’s how the Grey Hawks found you.”
“Yes.”
You could almost hear the gears turning in Robin’s head as he pieced together the timeline. Months, it had only been months since your life had taken a sharp turn for the worse again. Your only friend had died, and now you again had no place to call your own. Perhaps after your path stopped converging with Robin, you would be back on the streets for the third time in your life.
“I… have another question.”
You almost smiled despite your spiralling thoughts, one thing you could count on right now was the insatiable curiosity Robin seemed to hold. Tired and distracted as you were, you missed the almost hesitant and regretful note to the way his words were posed.
“Okay.”
“I’ve met demons and a host of other magical creatures, I’ve also met a number of sorcerers… and they all seem able to sense each other.” He paused, and seemed to almost grit his teeth before continuing, “Many have even come through Gotham in the last decade, so – “
“So why couldn’t they sense me?” You realised what he was trying to ask. Robin gave a short nod, looking straight ahead.
“I can smother my magical signature.”
Now he glanced aside at you, “What does that mean?”
“Well, you know how when I use my power, the environment gets cold and… kind of heavy?”
Another nod spurred you on.
“That’s what being around me would be like all the time if I didn’t smother my signature.”
Talking so much was increasing your headache, but you were determined to power though, at least until you satisfied Robin’s curiosity.
“Any magical user in the city would be able to sense me, not to mention my neighbours and landlord would have been particularly unhappy.” You grimaced, “Smothering it at all times became a necessary protection as a child, until now I actually have to think about it if I want to turn it off. Obviously, when I use my magic the point is a bit moot, but even then I hold back.”
“How much?”
You shrugged, “I expect anything in the entire city would feel the cold if I didn’t keep it under wraps.”
Robin looked sideways at you, his expression one of someone thinking hard, but he stayed silent. Your head soon started drooping again, and with the loss of distraction, your pounding headache took forefront again.
But then,
“We’re here.”
Looking outside, you were surprised to see you had arrived at the base of a towering apartment building. It looked expensive, and you were a little surprised when Robin turned into the ground level carpark. The rusty van stood out sorely amongst the sleek cars parked around them, but Robin paid them no mind and pulled around to wait in front of a door to a private garage within the larger one.
“Oracle, we’re here.”
You jerked at the unexpected words and saw Robin speaking to the tiny electronics attached to one of his gauntlets. There was no reply that you could hear, but the garage door opened up before you, allowing Robin to drive the van inside and park. He waited until the garage door had lowered again behind the van before turning to you.
“Stay here,” He ordered, and got out of the van without further word.
You watched Robin cross to an elevator door at the side and pick up a key hanging next to it. After pocketing it, he pulled his katana into his hands before entering the waiting elevator and disappearing inside. While you waited, you stared around the private garage you had been left in. It could probably fit at least three vehicles inside it, and the garage door itself was opaque, completely blocking the view inside from the outer garage.
It didn’t take long before Robin reappeared, stowing his katana and coming around to your side of the vehicle to open your door. You shivered as the warmth of the van was invaded by the much cooler air of the garage.
“It’s safe,” Robin assured, “Let’s go.”
Again, he held out his hand in silent offer of assistance. You weren’t quite sure what had changed causing Robin to be more willing to touch you, but you couldn’t help the small flutter in your chest each time he did so. As someone who had been so touch starved their whole life, it seemed even the simplest of brushes, even through clothing, was enough to startle you.
Taking his hand was a strange feeling, you were painfully aware of your lack of gloves, but it was kind of nice to be able to actually feel the material of Robin’s gloves. You left your hand in his perhaps a bit longer than necessary, your tired brain still having space to marvel at the quiet strength underneath the tough material and hard ridges of armour plating you held.
Finally stepping out of the van, you had to suddenly grip Robin much harder as your head spun and you swayed on the spot.
“Woah - ”
“Take it easy,” Robin’s deep voice encouraged. He stepped a little closer in apparent readiness to steady you further, “Just wait.”
Ryuu had jumped down from your lap, and quickly morphed to a large wolf again to press against your back and support you. It sandwiched you between your familiar and Robin himself, and you became quickly and embarrassingly aware that you wore only the oversized shirt.
Sure enough though, after standing for a few moments longer your head settled and the room stopped spinning. Swallowing through your embarrassment, you patted Ryuu’s side, hoping to indicate to your familiar that it could move now, and hopefully let you escape from the far too intense gaze Robin was watching you with.
“I’m okay now.”
You tried to reassure them both, but your voice rasped slightly, and you were even more mortified to realise it was because of a hint of desire that curled low in your stomach. Gods above, you must have hit your head harder than you thought if such simple gestures were now confusing you into imagining something more with a vigilante you didn’t even really know.
You prayed to each and every God you could name that the intense gaze upon you couldn’t read too much into your expressions. Thankfully the pause after your words was short, and Robin stepped back from you with a new frown on his face.
“Come on,” He muttered, “I’ll check your head in the bathroom.”
With a hand buried in Ryuu’s fur for stability, you followed Robin into the elevator and rode it up much higher than you had anticipated. You were stunned when it opened directly up into what was clearly a penthouse. But the expensive furnishings quickly faded into insignificance as you were led through the apartment to the bathroom. It wasn’t a long walk by any means, but by the time you made it through the lounge and down the hallway into the bathroom, fatigue dragged at your steps and your head was pounding.
You stumbled to a halt on entering the room and cursed, immediately bringing up a hand to shield your eyes against the bright light that was on.
“Fuck, sorry.”
Robin immediately switched off the main light and instead turned on a smaller mirror light. It lit the room fully, but with a glow that was far less harsh. Now able to see without blinding pain splitting your head, you saw a first aid kit had already been pulled out and set up to one side of the large vanity.
“Right,” Robin started, “I need to look at your head.”
You nodded mindlessly as you rubbed your temple, warring internally against the pain and exhaustion that just wanted you to sleep. Robin stepped readily forward at your silent agreement, but quickly paused and frowned as he regarded you. For a moment he then bent down to your level, which was a fair way down, before standing up again with a sigh.
“This isn’t going to work.”
With that, he stepped towards you again, bringing his hands up towards you but hesitating before touching you at all. The hesitation showed on his face as well, but under that was a hint of something else you had seen from him before; curiosity.
“May I?”
The question confused you, because you weren’t sure what he was asking at all. But your head hurt like crazy, and you were exhausted beyond all measure, so you didn’t much care what Robin wanted as long as it got you closer to being able to sleep.
“Sure.”
You were entirely unprepared for the firm grip that then settled on your hips and lifted you like you were nothing before sitting you down on the vanity. Your squeak of surprise would have been embarrassing enough if not for the fire that immediately rose to your cheeks as you realised your predicament.
Now at eye level with Robin, he was standing between your legs while you wore nothing but a thin shirt that was partly soaked through by your still saturated bra and underwear. It no doubt gave him a front row seat to the outline of your body, and you weren’t at all used to feeling so suddenly bare and vulnerable in front of anyone.
You swallowed and averted your eyes, just as he now did, and Robin drew his hands quickly back from you like he’d been burned. He began to fiddle with the first aid kit at your side, pulling out some gauze and saline hurriedly.
“Turn your head for me.”
His order held less of the absolute authority he tended to use, and the gruffness you had heard once before had leaked through his voice again. You wondered if Robin was embarrassed as well, but his hands were sure as you turned, and his fingers began cautiously probing the back of your head.
You flinched as he quickly found the injury, but he held your head still.
“Not too much blood,” Robin murmured, and his voice almost rumbled through the small space between you as he stepped a closer for a better look. “Your skull’s intact, it just needs a clean.”
As focussed as you were on not hyperventilating under the gentle touches of your hair, you didn’t even acknowledge his words. The good news was that your splitting headache and fatigue were quickly taking a backseat in terms of priorities, the bad news was that you were acutely and desperately aware of every small movement of the gentle fingers at your head and the way the muscles of the torso between your legs flexed with each movement.
You ended up closing your eyes and tried to concentrate instead on the wet gauze that cleaned your head. Torn between being stiff and uncomfortable at being so unused to touch versus tingling under the surprisingly gentle way he took care of you, you just locked up your body and refused to move an inch until Robin was done.
It took longer than expected, and you wondered if Robin had downplayed the bleeding. But he finished up at last and finally stepped back.
Blinking your eyes open, you watched as Robin discarded a large amount of bloodstained gauze into a bin. On meeting your gaze again, he saw your raised eyebrows and just shook his head. You didn’t press.
“Okay, don’t turn your head but follow my finger with your eyes.”
You watched as a finger moved back and forth slowly across your vision.
“Now I’m going to shine a light in your eyes.”
You grimaced, but Robin’s voice gentled as he continued,
“Alright, instead just close them tight, then open wide.”
You complied.
“Good. Now can you tell me what day it is today? Are you dizzy? Any tingling or numbness anywhere?”
His continued assessment seemed thorough, but you were quickly growing tired again just by thinking through the simple questions. You sharpened up a little bit when the questions deviated from what you expected.
“You said that was the first time you used your power on so many people,” Robin began.
“Yes.”
He stepped back at last and cocked his head at you, “How much of your fatigue is magic based?”
“Um…” You gazed at him uncertainly, partly pleased he’d finally given you some space to breathe and not feel like your chest was going to explode, and partly missing the closeness you had never had the chance to experience before. “A reasonably good chunk, I think?”
A raised eyebrow indicated he was less than impressed by that answer, so you tried harder to think through the pain in your head.
“Usually I regulate my temperature better, but my skin is so cold…” You could feel the icy chill from your magic still hung over you when it usually dissipated immediately, “I think overuse of my magic is probably contributing.”
Robin frowned, “Well, you definitely have a concussion, but it’s hard to tell how bad it is with the magic factor added in.” The frown deepened into a scowl, but you felt his annoyance wasn’t directed at you. “Ideally you need imaging, but…”
He trailed off, but you understood. You were on the run and couldn’t risk going out while the Grey Hawks were likely above ground and furious at the day’s loss. It would be asking for trouble. You rubbed at your temples again, trying to at least slightly ease the continued pounding in your head.
“It’s okay,” You mumbled, “Hopefully time will sort it out.”
The scowl now turning your way indicated it wasn’t okay at all, but Robin said nothing and instead rifled through the first aid kit again. At last, he pulled out a few tablets and held them out to you.
“Here, take these.”
“What is it?”
“Paracetamol.”
You shifted on the counter, “Um, I can’t have that.” At Robin’s questioning look you explained further. “I’m allergic,” You muttered, “Is there aspirin?”
“Aspirin is an antiplatelet.”
You squinted at him, “What?”
Robin sighed, but diligently explained, “It increases bleeding. If you have any sort of injury to your brain the last thing I want to do is worsen it.”
“Oh,” You paused. Your head hurt like hell, but if you couldn’t have those, hopefully you could just sleep off the worst of it. “Well, I’ll be okay without anything.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Robin scoffed, searching the bag again before pulling out another tablet, “Here, morphine.”
You stared, “Morphine? The pain isn’t that bad.”
Robin squinted his eyes at you, looking exasperated, “Just take it, it’s a reduced dose.”
On seeing his stubborn expression, you knew you wouldn’t win any sort of argument against it. Hesitantly, you reached out and took the tablet, before downing it with a small drink of offered water.
“Thank you,” You murmured.
Robin looked you up and down in apparent assessment, but then his cheeks darkened slightly and he looked quickly away again.
“Well, you look like you’ve warmed up,” He said, words more stilted than you were used to hearing from him, “But you should have a warm shower anyway. Avoid your head injury, though.”
“Alright.”
“Do you…” Robin hesitated, looking awkward, then rushed on, “Do you need a hand down?”
Oh. The vanity really wasn’t that far from the floor, but you were quite short, as evidenced by the fact that you only just met Robin’s eye level when placed on a higher surface. Given the dizziness you had previously experienced on standing, jumping for it probably wasn’t the best idea.
“…Yeah.”
To his credit, Robin seemed to steel himself in order to keep his expression neutral as he stepped back towards you. As his hands gripped your hips again to lift you down, you had to actually bite your lip to hold in your gasp. Being held so firmly was not something you had experienced before, and being handled like this by a devastatingly handsome vigilante who had just saved your life then gently cleaned your injury was…
Well, you were pretty sure the churning of your stomach wasn’t nausea.
Robin kept his hands on you just long enough to make sure you stood steady before he stepped quickly back. He gestured at the shower in the corner of the bathroom, the move almost agitated, and he didn’t quite meet your eyes.
“I’ll… leave you to it.”
With that, he was gone, quickly shutting the door behind him.
You stood still for a while longer, just staring after him until a voice in your mind jolted you from your thoughts.
Seer is confused?
You cleared your throat, embarrassed yet again on realising Ryuu had picked up on your tumultuous thoughts. Your familiar had been waiting diligently by the door, and only now padded towards you to press its nose into your palm. Hopefully your familiar wouldn’t realise your confusion was so directly related to Robin.
“I’ll be okay after some sleep,” You reassured.
In your desperation to dull the growing heat inside you, the shower you took was probably cooler than it should have been, and you came out shivering again. But it had the effect of winding your body down, and the earlier fatigue came back at full force, causing you to all but stumble out of the water.
On drying off, you were dismayed to remember that all the clothes you had with you were soaked through, and you weren’t keen to put on the partly wet, oversized shirt once more. So instead, you wrapped a towel securely around yourself, and before you could think it through too much and panic, walked out of the bathroom and into the lounge. Ryuu had waited and now kept close to your side again, clearly unwilling to step away when you were so unbalanced.
“Where’s the bedroom?”
Robin was standing by the windows and seemed to be checking the latches, but at your soft question he turned. On seeing you his eyes widened subtly, and he took a full second before your question seemed to compute.
“Uh, down the hallway, left.”
The gruffness was back in his voice, and you might have considered that perhaps it wasn’t caused by embarrassment after all if you hadn’t been so damn tired. As it was, you barely managed a mumbled “night” before stumbling back down the hall and into the room indicated.
Ryuu nosed the door closed behind you as you immediately discarded the towel and slipped under the thick duvet. There wasn’t a single consideration made to keeping your skin covered as usual as you gratefully succumbed at last to sleep.
Chapter 8: Blüdhaven
Notes:
We've established that Damian and Amira are a little obsessed over each other <3 But this is a slow burn, so things aren't gonna happen that fast (insert evil laugh here)
So let's get a little homey again and see some more familiar faces!!
Have a lovely day/night to all depending where you are, and thank you as always for the kudos and comments xo
Chapter Text
AMIRA
When your eyes finally pried themselves apart some time later, you were pleased to find the bright light spilling from behind the curtains didn’t immediately send pain spearing through your head. You were less pleased that on sitting up, a throbbing headache was quick to make itself known anyway.
Groaning, you hunched over your knees, contemplating if getting out of bed would even be worth it. Despite only just waking up, you still felt tired. At least it wasn’t the all-consuming fatigue it had been yesterday.
With time you woke further, and the small kitten at your side uncurled and stretched before hopping to the floor. Ryuu looked back at you as it sat down patiently by the door.
Seer is better than she was, Your familiar rumbled, But Seer must eat. The Robin waits.
So much had happened yesterday that it had amalgamated into something hazy and strange in your head, like a half-remembered dream. But Robin had been there throughout, strong and steady and always seeming so sure of his next step. You had been desperately grateful he was there, he had without a doubt saved your life and kept you from the Grey Hawks clutches.
Wanting to see him and reassure yourself that he was still present spurred you from the bed faster than the promise of food did, but on standing you realised with a jolt that you were butt naked.
“Oh shit,” You stared around the room as you muttered to yourself, “Where are my clothes?”
A small meow came from Ryuu, and you saw the cat had padded over to a small pile of folded clothes next to the door. You grimaced as you wondered just when Robin had dropped these inside, but you quickly ignored that question for the more immediate concern.
Whose clothes were these?
They definitely weren’t yours. Your usual emerald turtleneck and tapered pants had been replaced by a plain black turtleneck and sweatpants, both so big you would drown in them. Perhaps most importantly, your gloves were gone. You dithered for a while, but it became clear that this was all the clothing you had, so on it went. You tucked the turtleneck into the pants, then rolled up the sleeves to your wrists and the pants to your ankles.
But putting in on, you paused to sniff at the collar of the top. There was a scent that lingered, a men’s cologne? Something dark and musky, but cut through with the bright clarity of peppermint, it created something delicious enough that you stopped at multiple points to breathe it in deeply.
Eventually you opened the door and followed Ryuu down the hallway into the lounge, where the curtains were open and bright sunlight streamed in, the pouring rain from yesterday seemingly now passed.
You weren’t sure you could explain the magnitude of your relief on seeing Robin sitting quietly at the table and sipping at a coffee. Different place, same routine. It settled something inside of you. Maybe yesterday had been awful and traumatic, but Robin seemed as unflappable as always, and seeing him so unbothered despite everything that had happened calmed you.
He glanced over at your entrance and smirked as he seemed to take your outfit in. You glared back.
“Don’t even say it,” You warned, pulling the sleeves back from your wrists again for good measure, “Whoever’s clothes these are is a monster.”
Robin arched an eyebrow, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Oh – oh fuck. You were wearing his clothes? You almost groaned aloud at the realisation, why did your guard have to be not only handsome and capable and quietly kind, but also even smell delicious?? It was so unfair.
You cleared your throat awkwardly, “Ah, well thanks, I guess. But where are my clothes?”
Robin stood from the table and walked across the room to the kitchen, where he pulled a mug out and started up a sleek coffee machine sitting on the counter.
“Still wet. It’s sunny, but not warm enough to have dried everything out just yet.”
“Even my gloves?”
“Yeah,” Robin glanced back towards you, “You can still put them on if you want.”
You chewed your lip as you considered. You wanted them on, if only for the feeling of security having your skin fully covered would bring, but the idea of wearing wet gloves when it was only you and Robin seemed silly.
“I think we both know what could happen,” You said at last. “I’ll be careful.”
Robin nodded in apparent agreement but stayed half turned towards you as his eyes narrowed on taking you in. At the same time, he effortlessly made coffee with his hands without even looking.
“How’s your head this morning?"
You settled down at the table and watched Robin as you considered. You didn’t feel freezing cold anymore, thankfully it seemed the chill of your magic had lifted, leaving you only with the continued throbbing pain in your head and a slight remnant of the fogginess from last night.
“Definitely better than yesterday, still a little hazy and sore though.”
You both glanced at the door leading to the balcony as a small meow sounded, then the black kitten morphed into a beetle and scuttled outside. You knew Ryuu would be back in a few hours and appreciated that your familiar had clearly stayed with you through the whole night. Robin hummed as he now crossed to place the steaming cup of fresh coffee in front of you, then sat in front of his own mug again.
“That’ll likely last a few days, at least.”
At your grimace he continued, “You should have more pain relief, as well.”
“More morphine?” You asked hesitantly.
“For today at least. Tomorrow should be alright to switch to aspirin.”
You sighed and grumbled, “Fine, I expect you’d know best.”
The corner of Robin’s mouth twitched, and you watched as for a moment the constant frown on his face lifted to something a little lighter. He stood again and fetched you some morphine, and by the time he reappeared, the frown was back.
You tossed back the morphine and chased it with perfectly made coffee, and were quietly glad Robin was all but force feeding pain relief into you, because yeah, the headache sucked.
Sipping your coffee, you both fell silent for a while. It seemed Robin quite enjoyed silence in the mornings, but you struggled with words you needed to say. It took until the very end of your cups until you finally ventured to speak.
“I… didn’t say thank you, for saving my life yesterday.”
Robin glanced up at you and was silent for a while, the frown seeming more contemplative now.
“You saved mine as well,” He said at last.
You knew he referred to your display in the garage, it had been part self-preservation, and part desperation not to see Robin killed in front of you. But he had been the one to defend you, to pick you up from the floor, to drag you out of that garage, to buy a van to try and warm you, and he had been the one to clean you up and look after you as you finally reached safety.
In your opinion, you were very much in Robin’s debt, but you realised that he seemed particularly uncomfortable with being thanked. You also noted he kept a careful distance from you again, and you wondered if the more casual touches yesterday had been merely a byproduct of an adrenaline filled afternoon. Perhaps it had meant nothing at all, perhaps your concussed brain had read far too much into finally having someone hold or touch you without ill intent.
You pushed the thoughts aside and merely murmured, “Still, thank you,” And decided that you would keep silent tally of your debt to him.
Robin nodded and swallowed the last drags of his coffee with a long sigh. That made you tilt your head, because you weren’t sure you had heard an outward expression of fatigue like that from him before. Watching him a little more closely now, you saw a slight slump to his shoulders and a drowsiness to his movements that indicated an exhaustion you hadn’t noticed previously.
Looking outside, the sun was much higher in the sky than the breaking of dawn that usually woke you. Turning back to Robin with a frown, you wondered just how long you had been asleep for.
“Have you not slept yet?”
Robin’s eyes darted up to meet yours, but his answer was flat, “No.”
You tried to keep obvious concern from showing on your face. Yesterday had been hard work for both of you, and you felt guilty that Robin had felt unable to sleep while you were.
“You look exhausted,” You pointed out.
A scowl began to form at your observation.
“I wasn’t willing to leave us unguarded while you slept,” He grunted.
Yep, that made the guilt worse. “How long was I out for?”
“Thirteen hours.”
“Thirteen??” You stared between him and the sun outside, at first stunned but quickly accepting that yeah, you had been pretty damn exhausted. Settling your gaze back on Robin, you attempted to stare him down, “Well at least go and sleep now.”
To your surprise, he looked away, shifting a bit on his chair. It was probably the closest to fidgeting uncomfortably the vigilante would get.
“What is it?” You pressed.
For a long moment, you didn’t think he would answer. But at last Robin gave another deep sigh before muttering, “There’s only one bedroom here.”
“There’s only one – “ You cut off your own stunned echo of his words as that fact actually registered. One bedroom? When one of you needed to keep their identity hidden from the other at all times? That was… not ideal, but there wasn’t much you could do about it.
“Well,” You began hesitantly, “I guess we can share?”
Robin sent you a dirty look that you rolled your eyes at.
“Not at the same time, obviously.” You ignored the traitorous flutter in your stomach at the thought, and instead tried to keep your voice even and argument logical. “But you need to sleep, there’s only one bed, so sleep in that. We slept at different times in the last place, I’m sure we can make it work.”
Robin continued to glower at you, and you felt a small flash of hurt as you recognised mistrust on his face. Surely you had both been through enough now that he could believe you had no intent to unmask him?
“I won’t come in,” You murmured. “Believe me or not, I respect you too much to ignore your wishes not to be unmasked.”
He watched you a little longer, expression the most guarded you had seen it since that first day meeting him. You had thought over the last week you were at least closer to acquaintances than the strangers you had been, but it seemed sharing the same bedroom had brought you back to square one on the suspicion front.
Well, maybe not square one. Because as you watched and wondered if Robin realised he had a habit of working his jaw when he was thinking hard, there was a small nod your way as he at last made the decision to trust you.
“Very well.”
He left silently, making his way down the hall and disappearing into his – your bedroom.
Sitting back with a sigh, you considered your new surroundings. The apartment was nicer than the last by a long way, and you ended up standing to wander slowly around.
The furnishing and curtains were simple and tasteful, and the furniture itself was far plusher and comfier than any you had ever sat in before. A number of shelves lined one wall and were bristling with weapons, no doubt Robin’s own. Taking a quick look out onto the balcony, you saw it was more than that, and actually opened onto a small rooftop garden and sitting area. As you watched, you saw a fluffy orange cat dart across the space, closely followed by the dark feline shape of Ryuu.
No. You warned your familiar mentally.
Ryuu is merely stalking. The reply came promptly, but you could feel the ancient being’s amusement at the chase.
You turned back to the apartment and took it all in. It hinted at a truly significant amount of money behind it, if that hadn’t already been made obvious by the private garage and elevator up to the penthouse. But it all lacked a sense of personality, and not just in the way of no personal items – excluding the assortment of sharp things lining the walls. There was minimal colour, no photos, no thrown blankets or poorly shoved in chairs against the table. To anyone walking in, it would be clear no one actually lived here.
Here you were, yet another place that wasn’t a home. But before a sense of melancholy could set in, you spied the one thing that gave you some hope.
A single red cup left upended on the kitchen bench.
You tried to be quiet for most of the day in hope that Robin could sleep longer than usual. You noticed with delight that the apartment had newspapers delivered to it, and there was a decent stash built up in one hallway. Rustling through them until you found the latest one, you turned with familiarity to the back pages, opening up to the death notices section.
One thing about Gotham, no matter where you lived in the city, from the highest of skyscrapers in the Diamond District to the slums of Crime Alley, when you died your name made the papers. It had become a morbid pastime of yours to run your fingers along the names written in black ink. Sometimes you would recognise names from your days in the homeless shelters, sometimes your magic would tingle up your fingertips as you reached a certain name, letting you know this was someone you had either met or seen in your visions.
Nothing jumped out to you today, so you turned to the next page and quickly found the crossword of the day. You had used to do them every morning in your apartment with help from Winston for the spelling. Although you had never been able to finish one between you, with Winston’s poor education and your secondary grip of English, it had become routine back then, and it was something of a relief to get stuck into something familiar here.
Some hours later, Ryuu made its way back inside the apartment.
Seer is feeling better?
The sudden words in your mind startled you out of your struggle with the crossword, and you glanced across to see the small black cat jump lightly up and onto the chair next to you. You considered the question, glancing down to the crossword you were sure on any other day you would be having more success with.
No snacks that are going to upset the neighbours? You teased. Ryuu just gave you a blank stare. You gave a small huff of amusement before answering it’s question. Yes, partly. At least the morphine had kicked in, banishing the headache to a dull ache. It had, however, made you feel even more hazy. Thank you for your help yesterday.
Ancient yellow eyes stared back at you.
We could have got Seer out, but Seer wanted to stay for the Robin.
You shifted uncomfortably, knowing you could never tell Robin you’d had the chance to leave.
Yes.
Seer cares for Robin.
Ah… fuck. You knew you had a link between you and your familiar, and that part of that link came with hints of the other’s physical and emotional state. You were embarrassed that Ryuu had picked up on your confused feelings for your vigilante guard.
I consider him a… friend.
Seer has not had a friend other than Winston and us.
No.
We think this is good for Seer. We will protect the Robin.
You couldn’t help the small smile that formed. For an incredibly ancient and terrifying eldritch being, Ryuu could be surprisingly affectionate in its straightforward way of addressing things.
Pushing aside the crossword as a lost cause, you stood with the intention to meditate instead and considered the dark grey carpet of the attached living room.
Shit, you only just realised your prayer rug hadn’t been a part of the emergency packing onto the back of Robin’s bike. Immediately distressed on realising its absence, you couldn’t believe you hadn’t noticed until now. That rug had been the only thing that had been yours, your last physical link to the country you had grown up in and something that had made its way with you all the way from your earliest years.
Seer wants to meditate?
You half turned to Ryuu, knowing the familiar would have picked up on your sudden distress. I don’t think it would go well, You shuddered out a breath, trying to fight back the welling tears as you suddenly felt overwhelmed by all the change that had happened in less than two short weeks. My head feels too cloudy, and… my rug…
You felt a short pulse of understanding from Ryuu, and the familiar jumped down to wind itself around your legs and purr comfortingly.
Perhaps Seer should sleep.
You almost laughed, but it came out as more of a hiccup.
There’s only one bedroom, Ryuu, Robin is sleeping.
The yellow eyes merely turned towards a large couch on the side of the room. Fair enough, that would do.
“Okay, okay,” You muttered aloud, “Just a short nap.”
With a louder purr of approval, Ryuu padded into the middle of the room and settled down, silently growing into a panther as it tucked its paws in to watch the room at large. Sighing, you settled down on the couch, and were asleep almost the second your head touched the plush cushions.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
The unfamiliar voice had you jerking upright from your position curled up on the couch. Your fatigue was immediately banished by your alarm as your blurry eyes saw two figures stepping into the lounge from the door leading outside.
The first one to enter stopped dead on seeing your obviously startled self.
“Oh shit, don’t rip out my soul!” Wait, that voice was familiar. “It’s me!”
Blinking again, your vision cleared enough that you at last recognised Nightwing standing across the room from you with palms out placatingly. Next to him stood a woman costumed in black and purple, locks of bright blonde hair poking out from under her hood as she arched an eyebrow at her companion. As with most of Gotham’s vigilantes, Spoiler was instantly recognisable.
“Um, hi?” Your stunted attempt at a greeting was overtaken by her loud snort.
“Really?” Spoiler’s teasing question was directed at her colleague rather than at you.
“Hey, you didn’t feel her try to rip out my insides the last time we surprised her,” Nightwing frowned at her, quickly relaxing as he didn’t feel the telltale temperature drop of your powers. “If you did, you’d be worried too.”
Spoiler’s eyes squinted in the only part of a grin visible over the mask covering her mouth.
“Scaredy cat.”
Looking sheepish, Nightwing turned back to you.
“Sorry for barging in and waking you up,” He apologised as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I admit we were a little worried given yesterday’s events when no one answered the door.”
Spoiler was wandering further into the room and looking around with a frown.
“Where is the little demon?”
“Little… demon?” You echoed. She could only be referring to Robin, but you were stumped at both the ‘little’, because he was far from it, and ‘demon’??
Nightwing saw your confusion and smiled, looking more at ease with each passing moment.
“Robin’s the youngest of the bunch,” He explained, “It’s just a nickname.”
“Right,” You wondered if he minded the nickname, or if it grated on him much like the many ‘names’ you had been given through your life. “Um, he’s asleep.”
Both Nightwing and Spoiler looked at you in surprise, prompting you to try and explain further, “He was exhausted this morning, he hadn’t slept since, um, before things happened yesterday. Usually he’d be up by now.”
Spoiler cocked her head at you with an unreadable expression, “Yeah… we know.”
Your tilted head matched hers as you tried to read into the strange comment. Did all the vigilantes live together? Surely not, it was far more likely that they just knew each other’s patterns that well after so many years of working together.
“I’m surprised he didn’t hear us banging on the door,” Nightwing said, drawing your attention as he pulled out a kitchen chair all the way around so he could swing a leg over it and lean on the back. “We might hang around and wait for him, if that’s alright?”
You shrugged, “Yeah, of course, it’s not my place to tell you what you can and can’t do in your own safehouse.”
There was another smile from Spoiler as she too took a seat. Unfolding yourself from the couch as she sat down, you started towards the small kitchen to the side of them.
“Can I get you guys something? Coffee? Tea?”
“Coffee would be great.”
“Oh my god, pleeease!”
Smiling at the woman’s clear enthusiasm, you opened up a cupboard looking for the mugs… only to find plates. Right, different kitchen now. Opening another cupboard you found a bunch of middle eastern spice and ingredients just like the last safehouse. As pleased as you were to see them, you were surprised that they were apparently a staple between safehouses. Opening another cupboard to continue your search, you found bowls.
“Huh,” With an exasperated sound, you stood back to stare at the cupboards, trying desperately to remember which ones Robin had opened earlier to get you a mug. Trying to think so hard made your headache start back up and you rubbed at your forehead as you stared at the many cupboards, drawing a complete blank.
“Everything okay?”
You turned around to see both vigilantes staring at you with strange expressions. Embarrassed, you gestured vaguely at the cupboards as you blushed.
“I- sorry I’m not actually sure where anything is. I saw Robin doing it this morning but…” You glared at the cupboards in frustration, “I have a concussion after yesterday, I don’t remember where he got mugs from this morning.”
There was a short moment before both vigilantes burst into laughter. Nightwing stood from the table as he chuckled.
“No stress, I’ll do it.”
Your blush deepened, “I can do it!” You protested, “It might just take me a bit to figure out where things are.”
“Sit down, Deathweaver,” Nightwing continued to laugh, “I’m familiar with making myself coffee here.”
You started a little at the causal use of the title so few knew, but neither him nor Spoiler seemed bothered by the dark connotations of such a name. You supposed they were probably veterans to the game of monsters and magic, perhaps your powers weren’t too crazy considering what they might have come across before. Strangely, that made you feel more at ease, like for the first time you might be amongst people that would see past the death magic and take you at face value.
Silently wondering just what that might mean, you slid into a seat next to Spoiler, making sure you kept a bit of distance around the table from her as you stuck your ungloved hands between your thighs. She smiled across at you and propped her chin up on an arm as Nightwing got to work.
“So, how is it living with just you and Robin?” Her bright blue eyes sparkled with an unexplainable excitement.
Nightwing sighed loudly from the kitchen, “Really, Spoiler?”
“What?” She complained to him, “I gotta get something out of this!”
He rolled his eyes as he opened the fridge for milk, “You mean other than meeting Amira?”
Spoiler grinned at you, unabashed on seeing your questioning glance, “It’s true, I was dying to meet you and see what poor soul has been shacked up with Robin for the last week and a bit.”
You blinked at her, unsure just what she was trying to get at.
“Uh, it’s been… fine? He’s been very kind.”
Spoiler froze as she stared at you, eyes wide, and a cup was suddenly dropped into the sink with a loud clatter.
“Shit, sorry,” Nightwing’s mutter quickly followed.
Spoiler continued to stare.
“Kind?” Her tone was pure shock as she echoed your words, “Robin’s been kind?”
You gazed back uncertainly, thinking over your answer, wondering if it had been wrong. But you weren’t wrong. Robin made you coffee every morning, and helped you make chess pieces, and played Senet with you, and saved your life, and kept you warm, and cleaned your wounds, and asked you about yourself, and…
“Yes?”
She turned to stare at Nightwing now, looking desperate.
“Kind??”
Nightwing glanced over with a knowing look as he poured the drinks, “He can be very kind when he sets his mind to it.”
“Yeah but…” Spoiler seemed to flounder for words, settling on, “He’s Robin!” As if that explained everything.
You sent Nightwing a look of confusion as he now walked over with cups of coffee in hand. He merely smiled and said, “I’m glad he’s looking after you.” But his eyes glittered with something else unsaid that widened his smile as he held a steaming mug out towards you.
Nodding slowly, you smiled back awkwardly.
“Thanks, um, could you put it down?”
Now looking confused, Nightwing did as you asked and left your mug on the table before stepping back, and only then did you allow your hands out from under the table to reach for it. His sharp eyes missed nothing.
“No gloves?”
You could see the connections and assumptions being made in his eyes. Nightwing was clearly thinking you were far more comfortable around Robin than you were. You wouldn’t usually leave your skin uncovered at all around him, you were both too unwilling to take that chance around the other.
But… Robin had offered you gloves this morning, albeit wet. Still, you had declined. And he hadn’t insisted.
Hmm. Maybe you were more comfortable than you thought.
“No, my clothes are all still wet.” Your voice was as weak as your excuse.
Spoiler was suddenly smiling again, tone teasing as she was startled out of her spiralling state with a laugh.
“We can see that,” She gestured towards your far-too-big outfit as she snickered. Your cheeks heated again, and you wondered if the two vigilantes knew the clothes you wore belonged to Robin. On seeing Nightwing’s massive grin only worsen Spoiler’s giggles, you suspected so.
“I’ll bring you some clothes,” She couldn’t stop laughing but at least tried to speak around it, “You’re literally swimming in those.”
But Spoiler’s laughter suddenly changed to a muffled shriek as a massive black form prowled into the room from down the hallway. Even Nightwing scooted back from the panther padding across the room towards them with a low curse. But as the panther got closer, its form reduced until it became a small black kitten that tottered towards the couch and leapt up onto it.
Spoiler rubbed her eyes hard before staring again, but Nightwing peered towards it with slow recognition crossing his face.
“Wait, Ryuu?”
You glanced back at him in surprise, “You know Ryuu?”
“Your familiar was following Robin around a few nights I met with him.”
Spoiler’s initial terror had immediately melted on seeing it shift into a kitten, “You have a familiar?”
“Yes.”
“And it can shapeshift?”
“Yep.”
She cooed at the kitten circling the couch with intention to curl up, “That’s so cool.”
Standing to make your way across to Ryuu, you sat next to your familiar, letting the kitten clamber onto your lap and settle down as you sank back into the thick cushions. You wondered if your familiar had been in with Robin but were more surprised it hadn’t warned you of the pair at the door.
You didn’t wake me when they arrived?
The piercing yellow gaze turned onto you; Seer said the Nightwing was a friend.
Ah, yes, Ryuu had smelled Nightwing at the last safehouse. No wonder your familiar had put the scent to a face. Nodding in understanding, you answered,
Yes, consider Spoiler one too.
More friends, Ryuu’s purr grew louder, This is good for Seer.
You hid your wince, perhaps friend hadn’t been a good title to use. You suspected once this debacle with the Grey Hawk Gang had passed, you would split ways with the vigilantes. Hopefully Ryuu wouldn’t be too confused with the change.
Nightwing and Spoiler devolved into vague conversation using codewords and names you didn’t know, so you quickly tuned out. But you soon became aware that perhaps settling on the couch again hadn’t been a good idea. Your head was hurting again, and sleep once again tempted you.
Ryuu’s soothing purrs relaxed your body and soon your head was tipping sideways against a pillow. This was nice. Surely you could close your eyes for just a moment…
“What are you guys doing here?” The voice was unfriendly and cut across the two low murmurs that had lulled you to sleep.
“Hey sleepyhead,” A male voice held far too much excitement at the entrance of the first.
“Hey Little D,” A more feminine voice was just a note off teasing.
“Really?” The first voice hissed.
“What? She’s asleep.”
“It’s alright, code names only then,” The older male was placating, “We came to make sure you were okay.”
“I came to see her,” The woman cut in.
A displeased grunt sounded, “What makes you think I wouldn’t be okay?”
A beat of silence.
“Oracle seemed to think your escape yesterday was close,” The oldest murmured at last, “Spoiler and Orphan found a host of bodies when they answered your distress beacon. The dead ones were mauled, no doubt by the familiar.” A pause. “Amira’s got a decent concussion too, clearly something serious happened.”
“Did B put you up to this?”
“No, D – Little Wing, he doesn’t know we’re here.”
This time, the silence stretched.
“If not for her we would have died.” The answering voice was ringing with quiet but intense anger, “I want to know how they found us.”
There were two sharp intakes of breath.
The eldest spoke, voice all concern, “Robin, what – “
But he was interrupted by the same question, this time asked more coldly, more deliberate, demanding answers, “How did they find us?”
It was the female who answered at last.
“I can answer that. Cass and I – “
“Code names!”
“Fine, jeez. Orphan and I interrogated a few of the men left with their minds intact – she’s badass by the way, scared the shit outta every one of them and left most literally puking and crying – “
“Spoiler…”
“Sorry Nightwing. We interrogated a few of them and the stories match. Amira was never seen, but you two were. A drug dealer with connections to the gang mentioned that Robin was hanging around an abandoned part of Gotham with Nightwing. The Grey Hawks piled in the next day and it didn’t take long to figure out the only place actually inhabited from there.”
“I want in.” The angered voice was firm and determined, “This is personal now, I want to end this.”
“B isn’t going to let you – “
“I don’t care!”
The sudden rise in the voice had a small murmur slipping past your lips. This was a strange vision your dreams were letting you hear but not see. But as the voices silenced again, you slipped deeper into sleep once more.
“I don’t care,” The voice was softer now, quieter, “I’ll talk to him about it.”
“Who’s going to look after her then?”
Again, the silence lengthened, before a harsh breath was let loose.
“I’ll… figure it out.”
“You’re not going to trust anyone else to do it, are you?” The female sounded surprised. When the male didn’t answer, she continued, voice lighter. “Don’t think we didn’t notice she’s wearing your clothes.”
“She has nothing else.” The words were defensive.
The other male spoke, teasing, “And she’s still been cooking you dinners.”
“What?” The female gasped, “Seriously?”
The silence seemed to be answer enough because she let out a choked cheer.
“Holy shit, I never would have believed it from you Demon! You like her!”
“Absolutely fucking not, Stephanie.”
“Now who’s not using code names!”
“This bullshit is absolutely unfounded – “
“I fucking knew it! The defensiveness, the protectiveness, you’re letting her cook for you! And of course she’s stunning – “
A snarling reply started to split the air before the eldest broke in.
“That’s enough, you two.”
The silence was tense this time, and you wondered why you were still having this vision. It was longer than most, maybe it was just a dream after all. You shifted slightly on the couch, trying to get comfortable.
“Little Wing, maybe it’s best you take her off to bed before we continue.”
Eventually, a muttered, “Fine.”
Steps moved towards you, and strong arms lifted you to an armoured chest before you started moving, swinging gently as you were taken elsewhere. It might have been uncomfortable if the grip around you hadn’t been so gentle, or if you weren’t so desperate for whatever sort of physical touch you were allowed, or if the delicious smell of musky peppermint didn’t have you turning your head closer to the person who held you to try and breathe it deeper.
A soft bed met your back and the arms around you quickly left. You missed the secure hold and the feeling of safety that came with it, but the delicious smell didn’t leave, and you turned blindly towards it, pleased to find it also covered the sheets next to you.
A small furry body slid in between your reaching arms, draping over you and beginning to purr contentedly.
“Really?” The voice from before didn’t hold so much anger anymore and seemed surprised. “You’re staying with Amira again? Does that mean you’re done following me around?”
A quiet meow seemed to be answer enough, because a small huff came beside you before the man quietly left the room and closed the door behind him.
Maybe this dream wasn’t so bad.
Chapter 9: Puzzles
Notes:
Another one that's a little more conversational and fluffy and angsty all rolled into one, and some important realisations are made <3
Have a lovely day all!
Chapter Text
AMIRA
You had been very confused on waking up in bed again, and on checking the time, found you had slept through the entire night.
“What the fuck?”
Thoroughly disoriented on finding pretty much an entire day had passed you by, your irritated mutter was echoed by an annoyed yowl as you threw back the covers and sent Ryuu flying. Your familiar landed on its feet as only cats could, and after a short glare and a huff, shifted to a beetle and scuttled straight out of the room.
Grimacing, you dragged a hand through the bird’s nest that was your hair, flattening what you could, before giving up and getting out of bed. But as you reached the door, you noted a small pile of clothes sitting just inside. This time the clothes were yours, and your gloves sat atop the pile.
Right, you were still wearing Robin’s clothing.
Although you hadn’t taken the time to notice yesterday, the grossly oversized clothes you had on were probably the nicest things you had ever worn. They were cozy and comfortable and made of threads of such high quality you wondered if these had also been purchased with ‘Batman’s money’. Surely they were just clothes left here for if the vigilantes needed a safehouse, and not his actual everyday clothes?
Deciding it was best not to think too much into it, you picked up your clothes and ducked across the hallway into the bathroom. After showering and changing, you walked out feeling much cleaner and more secure in your own clothes and gloves.
Moving towards the lounge, you saw Ryuu darting out under the door. Robin was, as usual, sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. But he barely spared Ryuu a glance, and as you neared, you caught the end of a hushed conversation over the phone.
“I’m not being used to my full potential, Father.”
Father?
“I can do both if someone can come by during the day…” There was a short silence before Robin scoffed, “Todd is not an option. What about – I see.”
But at that moment he looked up as you entered the lounge, and his eyes immediately narrowed. You paused in the doorway.
“I can leave if you need?” You offered.
The vague murmur of a voice on the other end of the phone reached your ears. Robin seemed to listen intently and his expression grew notably more angry. But he merely said in a stiff voice, “I understand,” Before abruptly ending the call.
He tossed the phone onto the table before answering you, “No need.”
With that, he pushed himself up and stalked to the kitchen to begin making you a coffee. You quietly took a seat across the table as you took in the tense set to Robin’s shoulders. His movements were jerky and frustrated as he reached for the mugs, and you took the time to notice just what cupboard he’d sourced them from this time.
It took you a good few minutes to decide you were actually going to ask after him and risk the frustration being turned on you. As wary as you were to interrupt the vigilante brooding over making coffee, your concern that his anger was hiding distress quickly overcame it.
“Are you okay?”
The broad shoulders just tensed further as Robin kept his back to you, and his answer was taut with barely repressed anger.
“Fine.”
You watched him a little longer. When Robin eventually turned with coffee in hand to see you watching him carefully and his rigid posture only tensed further, you pressed a little harder.
“Do you want to talk about anything?”
“I said I’m fine.”
The mug of coffee got slammed down in front of you, hard enough that the ceramic mug actually shattered, and coffee burst out and spilled across the table.
“Shit!”
Robin’s curse was harsh, but before you could so much as gasp he was already around your side of the table, slinging an arm around your waist and spinning you out of your chair before the scorching coffee could spill onto your lap. Now out of range of the splattering coffee you both paused, Robin still with an arm tight around your waist, and you watched the coffee spill over and begin to drip onto the hardwood floors.
You were stunned enough at the sudden turn of events that you stayed placid in Robin’s grip despite your feet barely being able to touch the floor. But you noticed that he didn’t step away as fast as he usually did, and you stayed silent as you felt the stiff tension in the body against yours slowly, ever so slowly, relax.
At last, the heavy arm around you slid away and Robin took a large step aside, putting distance between you both and averting his eyes.
“Sit down,” His voice was heavy, “I’ll clean this up.”
You diligently sat down on the couch, tucking your legs underneath you, and continued your silence and you watched Robin pick up the shattered remains of the mug and clean the spilled coffee. After doing so, he turned back to the kitchen to pull out another mug and make a fresh one.
Finally, seemingly hesitantly, he turned and made his way back over to you, offering the new coffee out towards you.
“I’m sorry,” He said at last, and the words were awkward and hesitant yet truthful, “For my tone and for smashing the mug, it was not my intention.”
You watched him, knowing your expression was still broadcasting your lingering shock. You knew smashing the mug hadn’t been his intention, but it was clearly a consequence of having no other outlet for his anger.
“I know.”
He clearly read the disconcertion straight off your features, because his expression fell into what could only be regret, “I am sorry, Amira.”
The genuine admission was not what you had been expecting, but the sudden appearance of the emotion on the usually emotionless vigilante had your chest tightening in response. You were… concerned for him. You reached out at last to take the mug, and relief swept briefly over Robin’s face before his usual detached mask fell into place. But… it didn’t seem as solid as usual.
You were further surprised when Robin fetched his own coffee and settled on the opposite end of the couch from you. It left about a metre between you both, but you’d spent enough time around each other now that the shorter than usual distance still seemed comfortable.
“I shouldn’t have pushed,” You allowed as Robin joined you. But he shook his head.
“No, it’s on me. I – “ He cut himself off, looking away as his expression worked through acute anger again until it slowly reduced down to simmering frustration. “The others are all going after the Grey Hawk Gang, after what happened it’s become a top priority. I’m not being allowed to help.”
“Because you’re having to watch me?”
Robin’s jaw flexed, “Partially.”
You tilted your head and waited, taking a leisurely sip of your drink. Your calm and sustained gaze on him seemed to work though, because Robin let out a small sigh before at last beginning to open up.
“I was heading the takedown of the Grey Hawks,” He began slowly, “After weeks of planting false information I managed to get most of the leadership in one place. We all – us vigilantes – were present too, ready to seal the exits and trap them so we could finally take them all down at once.” He hesitated, frowning down into his mug, “Things… went wrong, and they all went underground. This was around the same time they came after you.”
“But things going wrong was… my fault,” Robin looked aside, and seemed to grit out the admission as if it genuinely pained him to say, “Batman’s not letting me back on the case.”
You lifted your cup up as you frowned at that seemingly minimal admission; so Batman was the one not letting Robin on the case. But… he had distinctly called the person on the other side of the phone Father. And it was them who you had heard actually refusing him.
Your brain short circuited, and your cup paused halfway up to your lips. By the Gods no way…
Forcing the cup up further, you forced the sip down, taking the time to desperately try and school your expression into something less astonished.
Robin was the son of Batman. His actual son.
Holy shit.
Suddenly, some things made more sense. Robin was so aloof, so angry, so quick to see ill intent even where none existed. You had never been much of a people person, but even so, you had never met someone so mistrustful, or who struggled so painfully against their emotions. But you couldn’t imagine that being raised by the Batman would be the usual happy and supportive family you had heard was the norm. Perhaps Robin had just never learned anything aside from how to fight? Had he ever experienced love? Care?
You floundered for some sort of normal answer, taking far longer than you usually would to look back to Robin. But thankfully, he too was looking away with a frown, and seemed content to sit in silence for a few minutes as you forced your brain to send actual words through to your lips.
“Are they any closer to finding them?” You asked at last, and thankfully he seemed to ignore the slightly strained note to your voice.
“No.” Robin looked back towards you now, “They have a name though, Carbine Slater. Mean anything to you?”
Slater? You didn’t think you had ever heard the name, and there was no prick of cold down your spine that might indicate you had come across him before.
“No, I’ve never heard of him.”
“Hmm,” Robin looked vaguely disappointed, but continued, “They’ve uncovered a few warehouses, but they’ve all been abandoned. They haven’t found much evidence to work with.” Frustration clouded his features and harshened his voice, “The Grey Hawks almost killed me, and would have taken you, I should be allowed to help.”
“You don’t have to convince me,” You said dryly, and a flash of that earlier anger tightened Robin’s fist. You watched as it relaxed again when you continued, “But maybe we can help anyway.”
Robin’s gaze darted up to yours, eyes narrowing in clear displeasure, “…We?”
It was an idea you’d had simmering away for a while, but after recent events, you too were also ready and willing to bring an end to the Grey Hawks reign. Your visions were clearly intertwining your and Robins fates enough that perhaps this was what had brought you together. Perhaps helping Robin bring the gang down was why you had been pushed his way.
“You said the others aren’t finding much in the warehouses, but I can see things they can’t,” You explained, hoping to get Robin on your side, “Have people died there? I can bring them back and talk to them. Or if I meditate in them, I should be able to pull visions off the surroundings. Or – “
But Robin cut in quickly, his firm tone leaving no room for argument. “There is no way I am allowing you out when the Grey Hawk Gang is coming after you so hard.”
“But I can be helpful!” You protested.
He was already shaking his head, “No, it’s too dangerous.”
“Not if you’re with me!” Robin sent you an irritated look, and you tried again. “Look, if you only take me to the abandoned warehouses, there’s no reason the Grey Hawk’s would have to think I would be there. I can help, in a way none of you have the ability to.” To your silent delight, Robin paused and began to frown harder, as if he were genuinely thinking it through. You pushed a little harder, “This is my life, Robin. I want to help.”
He stayed silent for a long time, simply staring at you as he worked his jaw. It took some time, but eventually his shoulders slumped and he let out a low groan.
“This is a bad idea.”
You threw up a fist in triumph as he gave in, “Yes!”
“But we take it carefully,” Robin’s tone was firm, and deadly serious. “I scope every place out first. You listen to everything I say and follow any and every order without question. We only go to warehouses the others have cleared. Most importantly,” He grimaced, “We do not tell anyone.”
You grinned cheekily, too excited to be brought down by rules you planned to follow anyway, “Until we take the Grey Hawks down and save the day, right?”
There it was, a small smirk that broke through the seriousness.
“Finish your coffee.”
You hid your wide smile with a long sip.
“So when do we go?” You asked eventually, unable to keep the excitement contained too long. Robin sighed at you.
“Not tonight, Nightwing said he’s going to join me on patrol. The sentimental bastard wants to run around the rooftops together for old times’ sake.” His irritated tone devolved into a mutter at the end. But while Robin clearly attempted to imbue the words with his usual distaste, they came out warmer than you expected. Clearly, he was fond of the older vigilante, despite how much he tried to hide it.
“The next night, then?”
“The sooner the better.”
You smiled warmly at the vigilante across from you, an expression that suddenly seemed to make Robin uncomfortable. Because for a moment his jaw clenched, and then he was downing his coffee and standing swiftly.
“Spoiler brought what things she could of yours from the last safehouse,” He muttered in a quick subject change, gesturing to an opaque bag you hadn’t noticed before against one wall. “Not all of it was… intact.”
“Oh.”
You stood and set down your mug on the table before moving to the bag and settling on your knees to begin pulling things out. As you did so, your heart sunk. You hadn’t had much to bring from your apartment in the first place, but even less of it had made it out of the safehouse. Only a small pile of your clothing was left, and you became confused when you began pulling more clothes out of the bag that you didn’t recognise.
“Some of this isn’t mine.”
“I have a… colleague, that is about your size. She donated some clothes for you.”
You froze in place, staring down at the thick grey sweater currently in your hands.
“Spoiler donated this?”
“Not Spoiler, Orphan,” Robin scoffed lightly, “Though Spoiler was the ringleader, no doubt.”
These were Orphan’s clothes?
You had only ever heard of Orphan, there weren’t even many pictures of the very elusive vigilante that ever made the papers. And even then they were often blurry and hard to make out. But you had heard the stories of the bat in full black wearing a scarecrow’s stitched mouth. They never spoke, but the very few who swore they’d heard Orphan speak said it was a woman’s voice.
The fact the cagey vigilante had gifted you clothing of her own made your eyes prick with tears. You weren’t used to people being nice, but those who didn’t even know you?
You turned the sweater over reverently in your hands, taking in the gift. It looked brand new, and just as understatedly expensive as Robin’s clothes you had worn earlier. Did the Batman finance all the vigilantes?
“That’s very kind of her.” You blinked the threatening tears away as best you could, “Could you please tell her thank you, from me?”
Robin seemed to pause slightly as he took in your expression, do doubt catching your wet eyes. His clenched jaw seemed to relax and he nodded, “I’ll let her know.”
Looking back into the bag, you suddenly gasped in excitement and happiness and pulled out the item right at the bottom, holding it up in front of you.
“She got it! I thought it was gone! I – “
You cut yourself off abruptly as you held the object higher and you realised the state your prayer rug was in. It had been cleaned in an attempt to get the worst of the dirt off its clearly trampled state, but of greater concern were the many ragged slashes through the already old and worn fabric.
You sank back to sit heavily on the floor, pulling the rug in close to inspect it. But the tears were quickly back as you realised it was ruined. Even with the careful stitchwork you had used to repair it so many times before, you wouldn’t be able to salvage it this time.
A couple of slow steps from behind you reminded you that you weren’t alone.
“Are you… okay?” It was the most hesitant you had ever heard Robin, but you appreciated that he cared enough to bother asking.
“I’ve had this since I was a child,” Your voice was thick, but at least the tears weren’t falling, “It’s the only thing I brought with me from Egypt. And now…” You gestured lamely at the destroyed fabric.
There was a long pause. Then, “I’m sorry.”
You sighed heavily and rubbed your hands over your face.
“I’m sure I can get a new one, I just…”
Words failed you, and you felt kind of silly as you struggled with how to explain your grief over something as simple as a rug. But there was another step from behind you as Robin moved closer.
“I understand.”
Finally looking back at him in surprise, Robin grimaced, but forged ahead despite his obvious hesitation.
“I… had a katana,” You sat straighter, stunned as you realised he was about to delve into… himself. Knowledge, freely given. “It was my grandfathers; he was murdered in front of me when I was young. I had a new one crafted when it broke but…” There was another long hesitation, and you watched the struggle on Robin’s face as he forced the last few words out, an admission of emotion. “It’s not the same.”
You were aware you were staring up at him, but you couldn’t seem to moderate the intensity of emotion in your face. He understood, and he was trying to help you as you went through the same thing he had.
“I’m sorry,” You whispered.
Robin just gave a small shrug, but it seemed more of an ‘its okay’ shrug than a dismissal of your words. You attempted a smile, trying to ease the awkwardness Robin clearly felt in his admission.
“Well, you seem very well adjusted and full of life despite its loss, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
The hint of a smile threatened Robin’s face for a moment before disappearing. He steered the subject quickly away.
“I understand Spoiler and Nightwing were here for a couple of hours before I woke yesterday.”
You allowed the distraction, and used the subject change to force your mind elsewhere as you reverently rolled up your destroyed prayer rug and placed it back into the bag.
“Ah, yes, they were.”
“You should have woken me.”
You glanced back and tried to judge Robins expression to see if he was upset or annoyed that you hadn’t, but his face was carefully blank.
“I thought you probably needed sleep, they seemed happy to wait.” You explained. When Robin didn’t reply, you asked hesitantly, “…Should I get you next time?”
Robin huffed shortly and crossed his arms, “I have impressed upon them that there won’t be a next time.”
That surprised you, “Oh.”
He narrowed his eyes at you, “You seem disappointed.”
You were disappointed. You had met Nightwing twice now, and Spoiler and Red Hood only the once, but all of them had seemed friendly enough and all of them talked to you like you were an actual person, and not just a being who happened to have powers they wanted to use. You hadn’t ever talked to people so freely around your own age, especially not who knew your abilities and didn’t bat an eye at them. To be seen felt good, and however short, you had enjoyed their company.
Not sure Robin would appreciate the deep dive into your mental state, you kept your answer vague.
“They were very nice.”
Robin snorted, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Tilting your head, you studied the closed expression with interest. “Do you not like visitors?”
“Not when they’re unannounced.”
“Do you not like them?”
“No – I mean yes, I – “ Robin cut himself off and pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh. “It’s complicated.”
There was clearly more to it, much more to it. You wondered at the sigh and the tension behind it. Sometimes it seemed like Robin found being around other people as hard work as you sometimes did. Again, you wanted to reach out for him, even just with words, to offer to talk even if he wouldn’t take you up on it. But recalling his reaction from before, you stumbled over the offer.
“D-do you want to talk about it?”
It was repetition of your words from earlier, and Robin clearly heard the hesitance in them as you spoke them this time. The look he sent you was strained.
“I… can’t.”
You nodded, but felt your chest ache when you realised the undertone to his words sounded like one of longing. His reply wasn’t an I don’t want to, or I won’t.
I can’t. It hurt to hear.
With a start, you wondered if maybe Robin wanted to open up to someone. Maybe he wanted to talk about his colleagues and his job and who he was behind it all. But there was such a divide between you both, and apart from this small pause in the outside world that found you both living out of the same apartment for a short time, your lives had nothing to do with the other’s. You wondered if Robin wanted to cross that gap as much as you did, but you didn’t want to push.
Maybe you were just seeing your own loneliness reflected back in the man across from you. And maybe you were reading far too much into his tone and muted expressions. You had barely known him a week, could you really pretend to know him well enough to understand the layers behind his words?
But at the very least, you recognised that despite your offer, it wasn’t a question he was able to answer to you.
“I understand.”
For a long time, you simply gazed at the other, both with a heightened intensity that had never passed between you before. It was a silent exchange of you allowing Robin his space, but offering comfort despite that, and him recognising and accepting that, but knowing he was unable to allow himself to accept it.
You both saw it. You both felt it. You both stayed silent.
“I had better go to bed,” He said at last, hands flexing with the words. With a small flash of humour, you suspected he was as painfully aware as you were that you were each getting into a bed the other had vacated only hours earlier each time.
You nodded, finally looking away in an effort to hide your mild blush, and began carefully sorting the clothes before you into piles.
“I saw the cupboards are well stoked here,” You aimed for a neutral topic, “I’ll do Bolani tonight.”
You could have sworn the expression on Robin’s face brightened, but his tone didn’t change as he nodded back.
“Sounds good.”
He disappeared down the hallway.
Sighing, you ran a last hand over your prayer mat again before closing the bag entirely, then sorted through what clothes you now had as you packed them back in as well. You were mildly embarrassed to find you’d also been given underwear and bras, and you decided not to wonder how they’d gotten the sizing right, hoping it had merely been a good guess on Spoiler’s part.
Ryuu soon made its way back under the door. Your familiar turned its head towards the freshly cleaned floor and table, then towards the bin where the shattered mug lay, despite being unable to see through it.
An accident?
Yes, Robin was… upset.
Ryuu’s head now turned towards the bedroom, but it made no move to follow Robin, instead settling down next to you.
Batman is not letting Robin help with the Grey Hawks. You explained, So we are going to do our own investigations.
Seer too?
Yes.
Ryuu’s tail curled over into a fishhook; a gesture you recognised as your familiar being pleased.
“You’re happy about that?” You asked curiously, at last pushing yourself up from the floor and grabbing your coffee again, plonking it into the microwave to begin reheating the cooling drink.
Seer and Robin are a good team.
You tried not to read too much into that statement.
“I notice you’re not following him anymore,” You said dryly.
The Robin was willing to give his life for the Seer.
“So you trust him now?”
Yes.
“Well that’s good, because I trust him too.”
You busied yourself with cooking through the day, finding the cupboards well stocked with the rest of the ingredients you had been hoping for. After getting the meal bubbling slowly away on the stove, you moved to the stack of newspapers in the hallway, pleased to find today’s issue on top.
On unrolling the paper, you were surprised when a pamphlet fell out from where it had clearly been tucked into the roll while still in the mailbox. You unfolded it, read it, then turned to Ryuu with narrowed eyes.
“What is this?” You shook the paper at your familiar, who barely raised its head to look at you.
“Missing??” You continued shrilly, slightly panicked as you recognised the fluffy orange cat Ryuu had been chasing yesterday. “I thought we agreed you would hunt wild animals only?”
Ryuu sent you a dry look before padding over to the couch, settling atop it, and pointedly turning its back to you as it curled up.
“Tell me you didn’t eat it, Ryuu!” You read over the pamphlet again, cringing as you noted the address, “These people are in the same building as us!”
A soft snore came from your familiar. Throwing your hands up in exasperation, you sat down at the table with an annoyed mutter and gave up, finally pulling the newspaper towards you and turning to the crosswords in the back to distract yourself from your frustrating familiar.
Strangely, you were missing the presence of the two ghosts you had made friends with in the last safehouse. No doubt Elizabeth would be able to give you some help with the words you weren’t familiar with. And having the TV on for Carol in the background might help chase away some of the lingering loneliness that crept up when Robin wasn’t around.
Banishing the thoughts, you buried yourself in crosswords.
Eventually, Robin appeared in the doorway again, only his dishevelled hair giving any sign he had barely woken up.
“Morning,” You didn’t really look his way as you stared down at the paper before you, counting and recounting spaces. This had been an easier one than usual, and you were determined to get the last couple of words.
Robin muttered a greeting as he marched directly across the room to the kitchen to your side.
“You want coffee?” His offer was little more than a grunt, but you took it for the small sign of giving a shit that it was.
“No, I’m sorted.” You continued to stare down at the paper and began tapping one end of the pen mindlessly against your forehead, hoping inspiration would strike.
“Dinner’s cooking,” You said over your shoulder, “Probably half an hour away.”
There was another tired grunt of thanks at your back. You soon heard the sound of the coffee machine come on and took the time to try and mouth out words, hoping to sound out an answer in desperation.
But when the machine finally finished up, you were no closer to an answer.
“I’m stuck,” You announced at last.
Robin turned from the kitchen with steaming mug in hand, frowning your way as he sipped.
“I’m sorry?”
“Number three across,” You explained, “There’s five letters, and it’s another name for a dog.”
“What?” His voice was flat and he stared at you like you’d grown a second head.
“Here,” You shook the newspaper at him agitatedly, silently demanding he come and look. “Another name for a dog! It should be easy.”
Robin sighed but dutifully trudged closer to look over your shoulder.
“Puppy?”
“Nope, thought of that,” You twisted in your seat to look up at Robin, playfully pointing your pen at him, “And before you ask, it’s not ‘bitch’ either.”
The infuriated look Robin gave you would have surely made just about anyone squirm, but you just grinned and turned back around to the paper. Trying hard to ignore the gentle brush of warm breath against the top of your head as Robin leaned closer, you pointed your pen instead at the offending question.
“I’m pretty sure it starts with H, because I’m reasonably sure this one is ‘Hoover’. But I can’t think of a dog that starts – “
“Hound.”
“Huh?”
“Hound.”
“Oh,” You stared at the blank spaces before you, counting it out. “Damn, so it is.”
You quickly jotted it into the boxes then sat back, pleased.
“Alright, next one.”
Robin’s echo was distinctly unimpressed, “Next one?”
“Yes, pay attention,” You pushed out the chair beside you with a foot, hoping to entice the grumbling vigilante to join you. “Seven letters, meaning stupid or foolish.”
To your silent excitement, a sigh came from somewhere above you, and then Robin dragged out the seat further so he could sit down. Desperately trying to hide your victorious smile, you pushed the paper closer towards him.
“Last two letters are ‘N-E’.”
“Asinine.”
“Asinine,” You repeated the word back, frowning, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that word in my life.”
Robin looked up at you, his head tilted as if considering something, and you recognised the curiosity brewing in that small gesture.
You decided to just invite the question, “What is it?”
“Is English your first language?” He asked.
You snorted, “No, of course not.”
“When did you learn?”
“I was taught basics in Egypt. The American couple tried to teach me a little more, but I mostly taught myself when I arrived in Gotham.”
Robin’s eyes squinted as he tried to make the connection, “But you… were on the streets…”
You smiled, “Yes, but libraries are free, and there was one downtown that didn’t mind a dirty street girl sitting in the corner most days as long as she kept out of trouble.”
The silence was intense as Robin continued to gaze your way, and your mind began to wonder what colour his eyes were behind the white lenses of his mask. Catching yourself quickly, you berated yourself on how stupidly dangerous thinking like that was. You were already having a hard time ignoring your foolish little reactions to being around the vigilante. You cleared your throat and averted your own gaze.
“That said, I still don’t know how to spell ‘Asinine’.”
You dumped your pen on the paper and pushed them both a little closer to Robin. He diligently picked up the offering and jotted down the word, his elegant and neat letters contrasting heavily against your loopy script.
“Why do you do these if you’re not very familiar with much outside colloquial English?” He queried as he wrote.
You shrugged, “It’s good for my brain, and I like puzzles.”
“Why don’t you do sudoku? At least it’s just numbers.”
Your eyes travelled up the paper to find the complex boxes filled with numbers and gaps alike.
“I don’t, um, I’m not sure how…”
Robin seemed abashed, as if he quickly realised that you’d had no one to show you how to play something as apparently simple as sudoku.
“I can teach you, it’s a pretty simple concept.” His offer was suddenly dimmed by hesitation, and a slight darkening to his cheeks under the edges of his mask as he continued with a mutter. “If… If you want.”
But you were already beaming at the vigilante next to you, elated that he would even offer.
“Yes please!”
Robin sagged a little next you but gave a small nod before passing the pen and paper back towards you. He dragged his coffee closer and took a long sip before sighing.
“Alright, let’s do it.”
Chapter 10: Darkness meet Sunshine
Notes:
Again, thank you all for the comments and kudos! Lots of love <3
This chapter is all Damian's. It's a bit of a deep dive into his thoughts about everything so far; with pining, angst, being amazingly emotionally obtuse, and a little fluffy of course.
We have to see Dick again - and we finally see Jon too :))
Chapter Text
DAMIAN
Damian leapt over the divide between buildings and raced along the next roof at Nightwing’s side. The wind rushed past him and the noise of the city was muffled so high up, the beeping of cars and the chatter of pedestrians out late barely reaching him. It was freeing to be able to test himself so effortlessly with no confines.
He had a lot on his mind, and the physical exercise would do him good and help clear his head. So Damian pushed himself harder than usual, trying to jump further, trying to run faster. Eventually he came to a stop on the edge of a building overlooking the docks as he breathed hard. Across the harbour, Gotham City itself glittered in the dark and the reflection of the buildings glowed in the water. Damian had to admit it was a captivating sight - when one was further away and couldn’t smell it.
Dick came to a stop beside him, also breathless, and Damian felt the usual flash of satisfaction he felt on realising he was finally grown enough to be able to truly test his brothers. It felt good to be out with Dick again, not that he would ever tell him that.
“Good chase, Little D,” Dick chuckled breathlessly as he clapped a hand on his shoulder, quickly removing it before Damian could complain, “I thought you would be looking forward to getting out and stretching your legs.”
He was... and he wasn’t.
Things were quickly becoming more complicated than Damian had ever anticipated.
Some of it was to do with their decision to start scoping out the abandoned warehouses for clues, something Damian wasn’t at all eager to bring Amira along for, but he couldn’t ignore how much of a potential impact she could make in the hunt for clues. If not a single detective in his family could find any leads at these places, it was unlikely that Damian would. Amira had been right, they could do with another angle.
It was a huge risk to start taking, most of all to Amira herself, but Damian had to grudgingly admit it was worth the chance. She had been correct. As long as she was with Damian, he could protect her.
However, the real complications were to do with Amira herself, and Damian’s increasing realisation that he couldn’t keep his mind off her.
He had quickly moved from watching her expressions with mild interest to paying far too much rapt attention to every small thing she did.
She smiled after the first sip of coffee in the morning. She twisted her hair around a finger when she was unsure or thinking hard. When she sighed it was always with her eyes closed. The way her voice rasped when she came out of her meditations mimicked the rasp her voice carried after just waking up. Sometimes when he talked to her, she sounded just as desperately alone as he felt.
But she was constantly smiling. And it was often at Damian.
He found it hard to understand how someone who had been turned away, ridiculed, and treated so harshly by society at every point through her life could be so effortlessly friendly and positive. She only knew Damian as Robin, and knew nothing about him outside of that, yet was so openly trusting of him it almost made him nervous.
Damian was abrasive, rude, and often came across as unnecessarily harsh. He was well aware of those traits, and it kept most people away from him – excluding his family, who for whatever reason seemed willing to put up with him. The only other people who seemed willing to overlook it were other heroes, and the only person who had ever completely looked past it to become a true friend was Jonanthan Kent.
But after the rocky start, it seemed Amira was now almost completely unaffected by his constant frown and sudden turns into hostility, meeting it with an unruffled air and quiet good humour. It was almost like she wanted to talk to him and be around him each day, and Damian couldn’t figure out why. It was weird, it was frustrating, it was strangely relieving, and it was leaving Damian feeling confused and irritatingly out of his depth.
It wasn’t that Amira was unaffected by him, because he had seen the way she reacted to him. It just seemed she saw behind his constant irritation to the underlying reasons for it, and Damian had never had someone he knew so little be able to do that before.
He had initially been confused enough at his reactions that he had called up Alfred back at the Manor.
“Alfred, I believe I am sick.”
“Poor news indeed for the start of your assignment, Master Damian,” Alfred’s tone had been dry, “May I inquire as to the symptoms?”
“Palpitations, nausea, and I am often unable to concentrate,” Damian had recited.
“That all sounds rather vague.”
“I have noted it only occurs when inside the safehouse, when I am outside I have no problem,” Damian had been frustrated and confused, “I wonder if there is something wrong with the apartment, but I have checked for CO2 and mould, and have found nothing.”
There had been a long pause on the other end.
“I am afraid I am unable to help you,” Alfred’s voice now held a distinct note of humour. “But rest assured it will cause no adverse effects.”
“They are already adverse effects, Alfred,” Damian had snapped.
“All will become clear in time.”
Damian had stared at the phone, stunned to find the elderly butler had then hung up on him.
But it had become clearer with time, and Damian was not happy when he finally realised that the cause of the symptoms was Amira herself.
The moment of realisation had come when they finally made it to the safehouse in Blüdhaven after narrowly escaping with their lives from the Grey Hawks. Both on edge and exhausted, with Amira injured and Damian worried with mind whirling, they both had their guards down.
Needing to assess Amira’s injury, he had decided to lift her onto the bathroom vanity before him to a better height to assess and treat, or so he had told himself at the time. Truthfully, he was stunned at his boldness. Damian had been weak, he had been curious to see how she would react, so he had given into the urge to hold her again. But he had been entirely unprepared for the surprised gasp, the blush that darkened her cheeks, and the dilated pupils as Amira’s startled blue eyes met his.
He had all but ripped his hands from her.
Damian had busied himself by checking the windows and doors afterwards, trying hard not to think about the look in Amira’s eyes when he touched her. And even more than that, trying to ignore his own reaction to holding her. His hands tingled despite having worn gloves, and he couldn’t get the soft curves he had so briefly held out of his mind, so warm despite her coolness.
He hated physical contact, so why the fuck was he craving it so badly when it came to Amira?
He couldn’t deny how attractive he found her, that much had become clear when he immediately regretted the white shirt she had changed into. The dry clothes were needed to help stave off the threatening hypothermia, but for fucks sake having wet bra and underwear on underneath had made the fabric see-through and cling to her body. When she had come out in only a towel after the shower, Damian had been left temporarily speechless.
He would have felt frankly disgusting for having such thoughts if it hadn’t been so obvious that Amira was just as affected by him at times. Unfortunately, it made sleeping in the bed she had barely vacated very difficult to do. Her smell and warmth permeated the sheets, and Damian had struggled despite his exhaustion not to sink into the comfort it offered, imagining what it might be like to have Amira beside him.
He was pathetic, and having thoughts like these were nothing short of dangerous. He couldn’t allow himself to think like this, it was distracting him from the mission, and any sort of closeness would put his and his family’s identities in danger. Not to mention it pissed him off that Dick and Stephanie were already making jokes about infatuation that wasn’t there. His body’s reactions to her were purely biology, there was nothing more to it. And it was something he would just have to ignore.
Certainly, touching her as casually as he had the night they had run for their lives could never happen again. Not only for the risk of causing a vision he didn’t want her to have, but for his own peace of mind.
All the same, his mind was enraptured. And Damian found himself watching even more closely, trying to understand how Amira was able to look past his harsh exterior, and wondering what it might be like to be able to open up to someone as alone as he was.
“Damian?”
Damian slammed back to the present, realising he had been staring out at the water for a prolonged length of time as he thought and was completely unaware of what Dick had been saying.
Looking back over to his eldest sibling, Damian saw nothing but concern in the expression looking back at him.
“You were pretty spaced out there, Dami. Everything alright?”
“I...” Damian trailed off, struggling with the words he wanted to say versus knowing Dick would read far too much into such simple, inconsequential things he was noticing. No, he would not burden his eldest brother with his problems.
“I have not been out of action for so long before,” He finished lamely.
He knew Dick would know that wasn’t the issue, but would hopefully recognise the answer as a deflection and decide not to pry. He wasn’t really out of action, they both knew that, especially with the run in with the Grey Hawks just days before.
Damian turned his head back to look over the harbour, and felt Dick’s gaze on him for some time before he answered.
“You know, sometimes it’s not all bad getting to take a step back,” Dick said slowly, “Sometimes it can be good to take a break and learn what you enjoy again.”
Damian snorted, “And just what about this assignment do you think I’m enjoying, Grayson?”
Again, Dick took a surprising amount of time to answer, as if he was picking his words carefully.
“Well, maybe it’s time to consider who you are outside of Robin.”
Damian sent an irritated frown Dick’s way.
“I know who I am. Damian Wayne is being set up to take over Wayne Industries in the next ten years. That will be my legacy as much as Fathers.”
Dick smiled at him, but it seemed patient, as if he had not understood the question.
“Yes but what else?”
“What else is there?”
Dick chuckled and moved forward to sit on the edge of the building, dangling his legs over the edge.
“What type of person do you want to be, Damian? What do you enjoy?” A quick grin was flashed back his way. “When you take breaks from running around Gotham scaring the shit out of arms dealers are you going to be a recluse artist? Or are you going to be out on the town young-Bruce-Wayne-style with a girl under each arm? Do you see yourself getting married one day? Or are you going to adopt every stray animal in Gotham and have Alfred cleaning cat fur off the chairs until the end of his days?”
The questions were rhetorical, but they hinted at some of the deepest questions that Damian had never bothered to ask himself. Damian’s frown turned into a glare.
“I am Robin,” He said firmly, “If I’m not running the business, then I’ll be out at night fighting crime. And vice versa.”
Dick tilted his head. “Sure, that’s what Bruce thought at first as well. And now he’s got a million kids and is dating a criminal.”
“I am not my father,” Damian declared stubbornly.
“But you don’t have to be alone either, Damian.” Dick’s indulgent expression suddenly turned serious. “Just... think about it. Once I too thought that living the vigilante life meant I couldn’t have a life outside of it, that I had to hold myself back from all my peers so I could be the best I could be.” The smile came back, “But that wasn’t true. I have Kori now, and I realise I can have a family and a life, as well as be Nightwing. I can do both.”
Hesitantly, Damian came forward to take a seat next to Dick.
“It isn’t safe to allow people too close to me,” He countered. “If my enemies link them to me, they’ll be in danger too.”
“Has that held Tim back from dating Bernard?” Perhaps seeing Damians disdainful expression, Dick hurried to give more examples. “Or Cass from having friends from her ballet? Or Steph from catching up with friends outside of her studies?”
At Damians silence, Dick continued more gently.
“Just don’t be afraid to let people in, Little D. Life is too short to spend it by yourself.”
By himself. It was everything an older Damian had been realising he was. He had friends, like Jon and... Jon. When he was younger, he had overheard a conversation between Bruce and Dick, and it had stuck with him to this day.
“Damian can be a bit… overzealous.”
He had passed his father’s office late one night and heard the low conversation through a barely cracked door. On hearing his name he had paused to listen, keeping silent and out of sight.
“He has a lot of compassion for animals but getting that to translate across to humans is challenging. People will overlook a rude and haughty teenager, especially a rich one. But he’s not going to be a child forever.” He had heard Bruce sigh, the sound tired, “I’m worried that when he’s older, he’s not going to have anyone in his corner.”
“He’s just a kid, Bruce.” Dick had replied, always on his side. “He’s got a lot of time to figure it out.”
But had he figured it out?
He knew the others had been ecstatic when he had allowed Jon Kent into his life. A friend, a true friend, it was something his family had clearly once believed was unobtainable for him. It had given them hope, had made them look at him a little differently. But that hopeful look had disappeared over the years when Jon had become the only person he had ever let in. And as he grew older, even the closeness he shared with his siblings as a child had waned.
It just came with getting older, Damian knew. His siblings had their own partners or friends they shared their time with, and the Manor was often empty in between their fleeting visits. Bruce’s time was split between the Batman, Wayne Industries, and starting to date Selina Kyle more seriously. Alfred was always busy, running errands in between upkeep of the massive house and doing odd jobs to help out with the rest of the family. His siblings were in and out, sometimes for dinner or to stay for a few days between places, but mostly they just swung by to use the training equipment or make use of the Batcomputer.
Damian often found himself by himself in the Manor. It was strange to walk the empty halls and remember when so many more people used to frequent it. By now, he had long since accepted he was going to walk through life mostly alone.
His family put up with him because they had to. Bruce hadn’t even known he’d had a biological son, let alone wanted one, and he had certainly never expressed any further want for offspring since Damian’s arrival. Even Jon, the one person who actually chose to be his friend, wasn’t even entirely human.
Damian wasn’t… normal. He knew this. Accepted this. It was why he had resigned himself to a life without others at his side.
Which was turned on its head when he suddenly found himself living in such close quarters with someone else. But even compared to his childhood in Wayne Manor, this felt so different. Even when the Manor had been full of family with the long table packed for dinners every night, Damian had never been so aware of any one person within it.
He couldn’t help but link Dick’s words now back to Amira and consider them. Don’t be afraid to let people in. He didn’t mind spending time with her. They did crosswords together, and had started sharing books back and forth, and played whatever latest board games Amira had spent the time making. And if he was up early enough, they cooked together. They had even reached the point where he started responding to her easy chatter, instead of grunting or straight up ignoring it.
But he resisted the idea that he let her closer. He was Robin, and getting too close to the person he was charged to protect was a bad idea. A single accidental brush against her skin could mean the loss of his identity, and Damian knew she was smart enough to realise from there that the vigilantes of Gotham were the greater Wayne family. He couldn’t put himself at risk, he couldn’t put the others at risk.
No, no matter how much he wished he could take that step closer to Amira, literally and figuratively, he would keep his distance.
Dick seemed to think his silence was for a different reason.
“Of course, we’ll always be here,” He was quick to reassure, looking worried again. “We may not always play happy families, but we will always be your family.”
Damian almost rolled his eyes, even as his words eased a small, silent voice of doubt that had always plagued him.
“Just think about it.” Dick finished. He suddenly jumped up, all fluid athletic skill as he balanced easily on the edge of the building. “Now, how about a spar? It’s been a while since we’ve had a night quiet enough to get into our own tussles.”
Damian smirked. Perfect. A fight was exactly what he needed to push aside the thoughts in his head and work the restlessness from his body.
He jumped up as well.
“I suppose,” He taunted, “But after you lose the third bought, you must agree to send me the latest on the Grey Hawks whereabouts.”
Dick grinned as he withdrew his batons, “Trying to get in on the research aye? You might be taller than me now, but I’m still faster.”
“We’ll see.”
Damian drew his katana, unable to hold back a small smile, and lunged.
A hammering on the balcony door the next morning had both Damian and Amira looking sharply up towards it, Amira with surprise, and Damian with suspicion. He had arrived back late from patrol, and found Amira already awake and reading quietly on the couch. They were expecting no visitors, and he had been perfectly clear with his siblings; they were not to drop by unannounced.
Amira glanced towards him, as trusting as always to let him decide how to handle things. Damian stood, signalling for Amira to stay put on the couch with her book while Damian silently flanked the door.
He noted Ryuu also hop off the couch and grow quickly to the large black panther synonymous with keeping guard. The familiar’s nose twitched as it neared the door, and it let out a low hiss. Trusting the being’s instincts, Damian drew his katana.
But before he could peer out the peephole, a muffled voice sounded through the door.
“It’s just me!”
Fucking hell, he recognised that voice. Groaning aloud, Damian sheathed his sword and yanked the door open.
“What are you doing here?” He demanded to the black-haired man filling the doorway, wearing a distinctive S-shape on the forefront of his blue and red uniform.
Jonathan Kent looked vaguely hurt, but his wide smile only dimmed slightly on seeing Damian’s irritation.
“I heard your distress beacon go off a few days ago, but Dad forbid me from coming to check it out. But then I found out that Di-“ At Damian’s harsh glare, Jon seemed to realise he was in hearing range. He quickly recovered, “Uh, um, Nightwing and Spoiler – I heard they had come by anyway, so here I am!”
Damian continued to glare at his best friend, trying to convey how unwelcome he was.
“So why are you here?” He repeated again.
Jon’s face fell. “Really? I want to make sure you’re alright.”
“You can hear me from the other side of the world,” Damian crossed his arms, “You know I’m alright.”
Jon sighed and slumped in place.
“Fine, okay, I admit it. I really want to meet her.”
Damian resisted the urge to rub at his temples as his irritation increased.
“Why does everyone want to meet her?” He hissed under his breath, knowing Jon would hear his question clearly.
But as Jon opened his mouth to answer, his eyes flicked over Damian’s shoulder and his face split into a delighted grin once more.
“Hi! I’m Superboy.”
Damian was pushed aside as Jon strode into the house, holding a hand out to shake. Turning to see that Amira had appeared in the hallway behind him, eyes wide on seeing Superboy standing outside, Damian silently seethed as he glared between them both for good measure.
Amira looked between Jon’s bare outstretched hand, Damian’s furious face, and the open and friendly expression before her.
“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Amira,” She gave a small smile, keeping her gloved hands carefully at her sides, “Sorry if I don’t shake, I see the future when I touch people.”
“Oh,” Jon quickly pulled his hand back, “No worries then.” He waved instead.
Amira’s smile widened into a pleased grin as she waved back. Damian glared harder at her.
“Really?” He snapped as he closed the door, “What if the person out here was a threat?”
Jon frowned at Damian, and he just knew his friend was about to interject with a warning about his tone, but he held his tongue just long enough to notice Amira wasn’t affronted at all and was merely rolling her eyes.
“Even I know by now that you don’t argue with threats, Robin,” She smiled sweetly, “You attack them.”
Damian’s eyes narrowed as Jon burst into surprised laughter, but… he didn’t really have a comeback, because she wasn’t wrong.
“Stay out of sight next time,” He grumbled instead, and stalked into the lounge to continue removing and cleaning the multitude of weapons from his suit as Jon’s laughter followed him.
“So you’re Superboy?” He heard Amira’s inquiry behind him, “Are you Superman’s son?”
“Yep!”
A light hiss came from in the corner, and Damian glanced back to see Ryuu eyeing Jon with bared teeth. Jon jumped back as he at last noticed the massive black panther shadowing Amira.
“Woah! What is that?!”
“This is Ryuu, my familiar.” Amira reached down to pet the head of the quietly snarling feline. She tilted her head towards it, no doubt hearing something they could not as she then asked, “Are you not human?”
“Nope,” Jon leapt into the air and did a spin and swooped around the living room, narrowly missing Damian as he pulled a dagger from his boot. Damian made sure to grunt in annoyance before continuing unpacking his gear.
“I’m half Kryptonian,” Jon continued animatedly, “Dad was born on the planet Krypton.”
Ryuu slowly prowled into the corner to settle down. The familiar didn’t shrink from its large size, and instead kept its glowing eyes steadily on Jon’s figure. Amira paid no notice to her familiar’s cautiousness and tilted her head in curiosity instead.
“Is your mother human, then?”
“Yup, Mum knew beforehand though. It took a little while for my powers to kick in, at first they weren’t sure I’d actually have powers.” Jon turned to beam across at Damian, “But that’s how I first met Robin!”
Amira now sat herself back on the couch, listening intently to Jon with bright eyes.
“Go on.”
Damian sent Jon a warning glance over his shoulder, but Jon wasn’t paying any attention, instead plopping down on the couch across from Amira and throwing his arms over the back of the couch, entirely at ease.
“Well, it all came about when a starfish tried to take over the world…”
Damian half-listened as Jon launched into the story while Amira listened with rapt attention. At last getting all his gear out onto the table and sorting it all into the shelving units in the lounge, Damian sat down at the table to watch the pair. At first he thought Amira was entirely enamoured by the tale Jon was spinning, but he quickly noticed Amira’s eyes slide across to glance at Damian at different points during the story, as if checking Jon’s story against him.
As Jon began explaining the organism that was Starro and its intent to take over the human population by mind-controlling everyone, she darted a look his way with an incredulous expression. After seeing his small nod, she tuned back into the story, only now seeming to accept the validity of a supervillain starfish.
When Jon described Damian’s desperate fight against a mind-controlled Batman and the faking of his death, Amira looked over again, appearing concerned despite already knowing the outcome and that he obviously came out of it alright.
He watched her expressions change and shift throughout the fantastical story, watching as she alternatively twisted her fingers, chewed her lip, and actually held her hands over her mouth as Jon got to the crashing Watchtower with two young heroes aboard, resigned to their deaths.
But of course, the story had a happy ending, with the world saved and the two children living and growing into the two men before her. Amira sat back at last and let out a long breath.
“I’ll be honest, if you two were anyone except Superboy and Robin I wouldn’t believe a word of it.” She admitted.
Damian smirked despite himself, “It’s far from the strangest thing we’ve experienced.”
Jon nodded, grinning over his shoulder, “Like different dimensions.”
“Flying dogs,” Damian added.
“Intergalactic jails.”
“Murderous colleagues.”
“And listening into the wrong conversations between parents.”
Damian and Jon both shuddered. Amira laughed.
“Right, so you’ve been friends a long time then.”
Damian crossed his arms, watching as Jon nodded enthusiastically, stating sincerely, “He’s my best friend.”
What an emotional idiot, but Damian couldn’t help the glimmer of warmth he felt towards his friend. Amira smiled his way.
“So you’re here today to see him?”
“Uh, yeah…” Jon glanced guiltily his way, before suddenly brightening. A sly expression crossed his face that made Damian instantly suspicious. “Since I’m here, why don’t we do some training?” He offered.
Damian narrowed his eyes, wondering what his friend had in mind, but Amira was the one to answer.
“Robin has been out all night already…” She glanced anxiously his way.
Jon rolled his eyes, “He’s up far too long all the time anyway, he can take a couple more hours.” He turned his gaze on Damian pleadingly.
He arched an eyebrow back, willing to accept it wasn’t often he got to train with Superboy anymore.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Well,” Jon’s grin was a little malicious, “I was thinking Amira could help us out.”
Amira perked up, looking immediately excited while every part of Damian immediately rebelled.
“Yes!”
“No.”
Her face fell as she looked back to Damian, “What, why not?”
But he was glaring at Jon, who was looking back and forth between them slyly.
“We never have a willing participant for high rise building catches.”
Amira’s head jerked back around to Jon, “Huh?”
But Jon was looking towards Damian now, eyes a mix of pleading and scheming. “You never get to practice that, and you know if you drop her then I’ll catch her!”
“Umm…” Amira’s jaw had dropped.
Damian’s heart had picked up its pace at the thought of Amira being tossed off the top of a building just for practice. He was also thoroughly irritated at Jon, because he knew his friend would be able to hear it.
“Absolutely not.”
Jon’s blue eyes were twinkling, a look of mischief now clear.
“Come on, Robin, just one or two?”
“No,” He growled, “I’m meant to be protecting her, not throwing her off buildings.”
“Well, I’d be doing the throwing – “
“I said no!” Damian snapped, taking a threatening step forward. He had to admit he was genuinely considering threatening his friend with the kryptonite shard he kept in his utility belt at all times. Amira was looking between the both of them, expression unsure, but after a long moment of being glared at, Jon fell back against the couch, howling with laughter.
“You should have seen your faces!” He chortled.
Amira let out a long breath as she rolled her eyes, apparently deciding she’d had enough and was no longer willing to participate in ‘training’.
“Alright, I’m going to make lunch.” She glanced over at Damian as she pushed herself off the couch, “Do you want something or are you going to go to bed?”
Damian was pinching the bridge of his nose, “Bed,” He muttered, lowering his hand. “As soon as Superboy leaves.”
“Okay.”
Jon also stood from the couch as Amira opened the fridge to begin rummaging through it. He tried to sling an arm over Damian’s shoulders, but he batted it away. Jon grinned at Damian, leaning in as he kept his voice low.
“She’s cool as, nice going bro.”
Damian glowered at him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The look Jon sent him let Damian know that they both knew exactly what he was talking about.
“Sure, sure. Just make sure you let me know how it all goes.”
“Shut up,” Damian growled.
Jon just smirked, “She’s smoking hot, too.”
“Fuck off, Jon. Go home.”
Bright laughter sounded through the apartment as Jon pulled away.
“Alright, alright,” He said more loudly, “I’m off. It was nice to meet you, Amira!” Jon waved her way and Amira pulled her head out of the fridge to wave cheerfully back.
“Bye, it was nice to meet you!”
Jon took the time to waggle his eyebrows at Damian before he was opening the door and taking off into the sun, quickly disappearing from sight.
Amira’s voice sounded from behind him as he closed the door, “I like him too, he should come around again.”
Damian sighed.
Chapter 11: The Deathweaver
Notes:
Another chapter to feed the hungry souls... Damian and Amira finally get out into Gotham!
TW: mention and very brief description of hanging/murderLook after yourselves, lots of love <3
Chapter Text
AMIRA
You were almost bouncing with excitement as you dismounted Robin’s bike a few blocks into the warehouse district of Gotham. Despite the dark and particularly smelly alleyway he had chosen to stow his bike in, it couldn’t dampen your spirits. This was cool, you couldn’t believe Robin was letting you out to really help. Not to mention actually working alongside Robin was no doubt an experience very, very few could ever claim to have.
Though you did try to reign in the bouncing after noticing Robin’s fourth annoyed glare your way.
After stowing your helmets, he turned more fully towards you, arms crossed and face stern.
“Now remember, be careful – “
“I’ll be careful,” You interrupted, beginning to tick off a finger for each point, “Let you go first, do as you say, stay out of sight, don’t use my powers before you’ve cleared the place unless I absolutely have to.” You wrinkled your nose at him, “I know.”
It had to have been at least the tenth time Robin had laid out his rules for letting you tag along. On hearing you spout them off by memory he narrowed his eyes at you, looking even more infuriated.
“Usually, I would go in over the roofs. However I’m not eager to swing you between so many buildings or have you try to jump them.” Robin’s gaze now raised to the rooftops towering over you as he spoke, but then his eyeline dropped to the entrance of the alleyway you were in. “Instead, we’ll take the slow approach, building by building, keeping to the shadows.”
You had dressed in all blacks tonight and kept to clothing that fit close to your body, not sure you wanted loose fabrics if you were going to be wandering around the grimy streets of Gotham at night. Robin had seemed to agree, if the single nod on seeing you had been anything to go by. Though you still weren’t sure why he had swallowed hard and looked away so quickly afterwards. All the same, you were pleased for the dark fabrics helping to hide you as you and Robin slowly ventured out of the alleyway.
“Some of the other warehouses around here may not be as abandoned. Make sure you stay close,” Robin murmured in your ear before creeping out of the alley. You followed quickly after him.
You tried hard and did your best to keep up, but suspected he was deliberately dropping his pace so it was easy for you to keep up. Robin kept close to the side of the buildings, often pausing and gesturing for you to duck into deeper shadow or around corners as he ventured out a little further. He was always quick to come back and get you, and you did your best to mimic him as best as possible.
It was easy to see why he was one of the most feared vigilantes of Gotham. Watching the way he effortlessly melded into the shadows and was utterly silent on his feet despite his size – it was seriously impressive. Tonight he had his hood up, obscuring his black hair and shrouding most of his face in shadow.
It was no doubt a seriously intimidating sight, and you were probably lucky that you were short enough to still see below the mask to Robin’s expressions. It kept him slightly more human to you, and reminded you of the person under the costume and serious exterior; one that made you coffee and very, very occasionally smirked at things you said.
As carefully as you were trying to follow his path, you were entirely unprepared for Robin to suddenly whirl around and backtrack towards you. He bowled into you, grabbing you tight around your waist and all but throwing you into a small shadowy alcove you had just passed. The body that was much taller, wider, and far more heavily muscled than yours was suddenly pressing hard against your back, pushing you tight into the shadowy corner. Robin was clearly expecting your cry of surprise as well, because a gloved hand clamped tight around your mouth to muffle the sound.
As unprepared as you were to be pushed hard up against a wall by someone, your first instinct was to fight the hold around you. Your twisting against the wall only succeeded in you being pressed against it even harder, and the hand at your mouth and arm around your waist tightened as Robin’s mouth moved down to your ear.
“Be quiet.”
The harsh order immediately stilled you, and it was only then that you heard the approaching voices – already basically upon you. You held your breath as two large men passed straight by you, neither one of them bothering to glance into the small alcove between buildings that sheltered you both in shadow.
Robin kept you hard against the wall for many long seconds after the pair had passed, crowding you so close against the wall that you started to breathe in the peppermint scent you had realised belonged to him. It was long enough that heat started to rise to your cheeks because holy shit you hadn’t realised just how much bigger he was than you or just how densely packed the hard muscles against your ass and back were, and was he aware just how high on your stomach his hand was, and could he tell that you were starting to hyperventilate or –
The pressure against you disappeared. You stumbled back with a harsh exhale of breath, quickly catching your feet under you again as you made sure your gloves were still on tight – you knew they were, but Gods above you needed a distraction from the burning through your whole body. Glancing up, you were relieved to see Robin wasn’t looking at you, and his attention was instead on the retreating figures down the street.
“Sorry,” You muttered. Your voice was strained, knowing you should have been more prepared to hide on a moment’s notice, and you definitely shouldn’t have reacted like that.
Robin glanced back at you, and while he was trying to keep his expression blank, you recognised the tightness behind it as he replied.
“We should go.”
You knew you weren’t imagining the rough edge to his voice.
“Right,” You swallowed, “Yep.”
You followed Robin out of the alcove and tried desperately to keep your mind on being more careful and not on the tingling of your skin where he had just been melded against you. You couldn’t help wondering if the roughness to his tone didn’t actually come from embarrassment at all, but the other potential made you even more nervous. Maybe it was best not to think about it.
Pushing the thoughts aside as you noticed Robin pause ahead of you, you peered around his side to see a darkened warehouse ahead of you. There were no lights, there were no people. It didn’t look run down, exactly, but it was clearly abandoned.
Robin glanced back at you, “Make sure you stay behind me.”
“Sure.”
His eyes narrowed at your easy compliance, “I’m serious.”
“Do you think I have a death wish or something?” Your face scrunched, offended despite yourself. How stupid did he think you were? “By all means, please go first.”
There was a short huff before Robin slunk out of cover of the shadows, and you followed closely. He took his time entering the warehouse, and once inside, clicked on a flashlight to inspect every corner of it.
There was a massive space inside, with thick over-arching beams high up from which hung a number of ropes and chains that had been broken off. Railing surrounded the upper edges of the building, but the main floor itself was entirely barren except for a few upturned, empty crates at its edges. It had clearly been utterly cleared of whatever it had been previously used for.
You and Robin ended up facing back towards the door, and he clicked off the flashlight, allowing the high windows to bathe the area in weak moonlight.
“Red Robin and Orphan looked this place over a week back,” Robin said as you both took the space in, “This place was used for the Grey Hawk’s drug operation. They packaged the drugs in here before sending them out onto the streets.”
You frowned, looking around at the almost completely empty area, “How did they figure that?”
“Residue on some of the flooring,” Robin explained, “But the Grey Hawks were thorough in packing this place up. That’s all they were able to get.”
“Okay,” You glanced around, not liking the long shadows that stretched across the unfamiliar place. “I guess I’ll mediate then, see what I can pick up.”
You made your way to the centre of the building and kicked away the fine layer of dust as best you could, wishing you had your prayer rug, or at the very least some scented candles to calm you.
“You remember what I told you about waking me during mediation?” You asked over your shoulder.
Robin frowned, “You told me not to.”
“Great, good.”
He watched you scuff away some more dust, crossing his arms as he watched you clear a small circle. “You said you could get trapped between realities?”
“Yep, and I’m not keen for that,” You grimaced. “It’s only happened once and I was comatose for at least eight hours, I think.”
“You think?”
You glanced back up with a strained smile, “Well I was alone, apart from Ryuu, who doesn’t have a great sense of time.”
The white lenses turned your way slitted, “If no one can wake you during meditation, how can you safely do it?”
“I can’t, mostly.”
Robin actually looked confused. “You meditated at the last safehouse quite a bit,” He noted.
You hummed in agreement, giving up on being able to get the ground any cleaner and stopping in place to face him properly.
“Because you were there.”
Robin seemed to startle at the throwaway line. He stared at you for a long minute while his jaw flexed, before at last looking away.
“Okay, well, how long does it take?”
“Anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours, but I seem to be able to regulate that time unconsciously.”
“So this should take…?”
“Hopefully under an hour.”
Robin sighed, “Fine, let’s get this over with.”
You nodded and settled down on the cool, flat concrete flooring and crossed your legs. But you couldn’t help looking around, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. You had never meditated in a place like this, and you didn’t like making yourself so vulnerable somewhere so unfamiliar and unsafe.
Robin took a step closer to you, and you glanced up to see the frown on his face had eased to something serious but understanding.
“I’ll be here the whole time,” He vowed.
You swallowed and nodded and placed your trust entirely in Robin.
Closing your eyes, you breathed. In and out.
In.
Out.
The world fell away.
Swirling dark clouds parted in your mind to allow you flashes of several things one after the other.
A factory with numerous people worked through thousands of small packages, counting them out and packing them into larger boxes before a production line of people moved them further down the building into large crates.
A man with a face-full of piercings kissed an elderly woman on the head before walking away.
A different, far more sinister man shrouded in darkness faced five others as he signed lives away.
A body hanging from the rafters above, still and ever so slowly swinging in the breeze as the production line was quickly and efficiently packed up beneath it.
The rope that had been around the man’s neck, slowly eaten away by insects crawling from the rotting corpse it once held, finally falling into a corner of a building. Passed over as unremarkable by two stealthy caped figures that sifted through what little debris remained.
You emerged, your consciousness slowly rising as if swimming up through thick black waters. You felt your immeasurably slow breaths speed up again and you blinked your heavy eyelids open.
“Amira?” A familiar voice called your name. Robin.
“In the corner,” Your voice rasped heavily as you came out of the vision, and you blinked a few more times to clear your eyesight.
“I’m sorry?” Robin was crouched in front of you, frowning as usual but… concerned.
You wondered how long you had been out for, visions always seemed to pass in a strange state of time. Taking a deep breath, your voice this time was a little clearer.
“Back corner, left. There’s a rope there, I need it.”
Robin turned and darted away without further comment, and it gave you a moment to slowly uncurl yourself from the cross-legged position you had adopted and start stretching out your stiffened limbs. As you reached for your toes, Robin came back, a short length of mangled rope hanging from his grip.
“Is this what you’re after?”
“Yes,” You pulled out of your stretch and reached for the rope, “It’s going to be my link to a ghost here, someone we can talk to.”
Robin passed it over and crouched back down before you as you ran your hands over it. You felt the tingles in your hands that let you know this had been important to an event here, and you would be able to connect it back to the man killed by it.
“Are they here now?” Robin eyed the empty space around you.
“No, they passed over,” You explained with a small smile on seeing his not quite hidden unease, “This was connected to them, I can use it as an anchor to find their tether in the afterlife and bring them back here so I can talk to them.”
“Do they stay here afterwards?”
“No, as my concentration ends, so does their form.”
Robin just nodded and sat back on his heels to watch. You took a deep breath and held the rope tighter. Focussing on the tingles in your hands, you let them physically guide you to hold elsewhere on its length, and in your mind’s eye, you saw the broken wisps of a shattered thread start to light up.
You felt your eyes start to glow and shift as you concentrated, and slowly you were able to metaphysically force the wisps among the rope back together into a semblance of the end of a thread. Breathing deeply, you felt the other end of it start to call to you from a different reality – the afterlife. Concentrating harder, you focused on the far end of the glowing thread… and pulled.
The form of a ghost suddenly materialised next to you, and you turned your head to take them in, the glow in your eyes settling.
“Hello.”
“What the fuck!”
A heavily pierced man now stood at your side, looking around in alarm as he appeared to quickly recognise his surroundings. “Why am I back here?”
You stood, dusting yourself off and faced the ghost.
“Sorry, it won’t be for long.” The ghost stared at you in shock, no doubt feeling the lingering coolness of your power surrounding you, “I’ve brought you back, just to have a talk.”
Robin now stood as well as you began to converse, staying far back enough that he wasn’t intruding, but close enough to let you know he was ready for action. But the ghost caught sight of the figure dressed in black as he moved at last, and shouted in terror as he danced away a few paces.
“Jesus Christ is that Batman?! Wait no, it’s Robin!” He was turning a strange shade of white, “Fuck this, get me out of here!”
He turned on his heel and fled, sprinting straight for the door. You sighed and held out a hand, letting your power surge and causing the temperature to plunge as you gripped the man’s tether and dragged it back towards you, pulling the screeching ghost back to a spot in front of you. He tried to flee again, but again, you caught him and dragged him back.
“Look, I can keep you here as long as I need,” You called after the third time. “Once we’ve had a chat I can send you back to the afterlife, just how you were before.”
The ghost sprinted off again, “Stay the fuck away from me!”
You sighed and dragged him back again.
Damian was watching, rather patiently for him, as you argued with thin air. At your sigh he raised an eyebrow.
“What’s going on?” He asked.
“Ghostie here is busy freaking out,” You grumbled as you pulled him back again. “Don’t worry, I’ll reign him in.”
Robin crossed his arms and shifted his weight, seeming to settle in for a long wait.
“Can he leave?”
You smirked across as him, “Not if I don’t want him to.”
Focussing back on the ghost, you flexed your powers, tightening your hold on his tether and freezing him entirely in place. It sent the temperature dropping a further few degrees, and your and Robin’s breaths started to mist in the air.
“Oi!”
The ghost screamed, attempting to thrash in place despite his frozen body as he stared out at you, glowing eyes and all.
“Cut it out,” You snapped, starting to lose your good humour, “I just need to talk to you, then you can go.”
“Holy shit, you’re her!” He was all terror, “The Deathweaver! Please don’t kill me.” He begged.
You pinched the bridge of your nose as you sighed in annoyance and pointed out, “You’re already dead.”
A small snort came from Robin who was otherwise silent at your side. You turned to wrinkle your nose at the vigilante, and he gave you a brief, exasperated glance.
“Look,” You turned back to the ghost, “I need information on the Grey Hawk Gang.”
Suddenly, the thrashing and screaming stopped, and the man looked at you with more interest, eyes full of suspicion. “What about it?”
Surprised at the sudden change, you tilted your head, “I want to know where they are, ideally.”
“Well…” The ghost dragged out the word, looking at you, looking at Robin, then out and around himself. You didn’t think he was actually going to answer, but you were further surprised by a sudden splurge of information that all but fell from his mouth.
“They had a bunch of warehouses around here that were used for drugs and weapons storage. Lots of uppers, lots of handguns and assault rifles.” He looked around again, “Looks like they might be out of commission now though.”
Pleased that you finally seemed to be getting some resemblance of cooperation, you relaxed your hold over him. The temperature began to creep up again, and the ghost carefully began to flex his limbs again as he felt your hold over him recede.
“Okay, do you know where the rest of them are,” You asked, “Or were?”
Eyes narrowed in your direction, “Who’s asking?”
“We are.”
You gestured towards Robin, who was looking impressively displeased. No doubt to the ghost he looked deadly and very serious, all cloaked in the shadows around the warehouse. To you he looked kind of… bored.
“Well, okay.” There was another small hesitation, but then the man straightened as he took a breath. “I’m Dave Claron. I used to be a part of the Grey Hawk Gang, but only to make enough money to pay my mums hospital bills.” He frowned, cocking his head, “Actually, I haven’t seen her around, I wonder if she’s still alive then – “
“Dave,” You kept your voice firm as you cut him off, not wanting to be unkind, but knowing you couldn’t be here all night, “Focus.”
“Right. Well as I said, plenty of warehouses around here,” He gestured widely, “There were five on this block, then a couple out the edge of Gotham in East Side, and one out in Blüdhaven. That’s all the ones I know of, at least.”
Quickly relaying that information through to Robin, you watched as he merely nodded slowly, expression blank. You raised an eyebrow at him, “Anything else you want?”
Robin glanced towards the space you had been talking to, but directed his question towards you.
“What does he know about Carbine Slater?”
The mention of the name had the ghost – Dave – immediately looking a mix of terrified and angry. “Slater got me killed,” His voice was full of fury, “I used to run drugs for him, but the one time it went bad, I was tossed off the rafters hanging by that rope.”
He pointed at rope still held in your hands. You grimaced, knowing the vision you’d had had been correct on its origin. Dave continued,
“Slater is the big man himself,” He explained, looking spooked, which was a strange expression to see on a ghost. “No one ever sees him, but no order comes through that doesn’t come past him first.”
Again, you relayed the information back through to Robin. He barely paused before asking another question.
“Does he know what he looks like?”
“No,” Dave turned towards Robin as he answered, even though the vigilante was unable to see or hear him. “I’ve never seen him. Not even sure I talked to anyone who had.”
“Hmm,” You hummed as you thought it over. It was certainly problematic to be looking for a gang leader that people didn’t have even basic knowledge of.
“Hey look…” You glanced up as Dave now addressed you, “I wondered if you could look my mum up? See if she’s still alive?” He asked, looking miserable, “I’ve got a last stash of drugs and money I hadn’t quite got out yet, if you sell the drugs then you could keep some of the money for your troubles – “
You gave a short, surprised bark of laughter, “Did you really just ask me and Robin to sell drugs for you?”
Dave’s eyes darted towards Robin, who was suddenly looking ferocious, and he took a few large steps away.
“Well, I was more asking you,” He mumbled, “I just want to make sure my mum’s okay.”
“Look, I’ll check, okay? I’ll help her out if she’s still around,” You sighed, “Just not with your dirty money.”
Dave rattled off a name and also a location, saying if you changed your mind about the drugs and money, everything should still be there. But he surprised you by then continuing more hesitantly.
“Are you two… taking down the Grey Hawks?”
You frowned at the ghost, “That’s the plan.”
He shifted in place before admitting, “I would quite like to see the end of the gang.” His head came up and he continued more firmly, “They fucked with me, and they fucked with my family. I don’t know if you can bring me back one more time at the end of things, but I would like to be there.”
You blinked at him, unsure if you would be able to grant that request, but understanding the need to see some kind of justice for his particularly traumatic death, and for his family.
“I’ll… keep you in mind.”
Dave nodded your way, a gesture of respect, “Thank you.”
“Ready?”
The ghost nodded. You took a moment to commit Dave’s tether to memory, should you actually call for him later, then dissolved it, vanishing him from this reality and sending him back to the afterlife.
Turning back to Robin, you spouted off the last parts of the conversation.
“He also gave me a location for the money and drugs,” You added, “But I can pass it onto a cop, so she can deal with it if you want.”
Robin had been listening attentively, but had kept his expression blank until your last words, after which his brow drew together, “You have a cop in mind?”
You nodded, “I often pass information off to her. My visions led me to her last year, I trust her.”
Robin’s frown deepened, and you recognised the expression as suspicion. “What cop?”
“Barbara Gordon.”
Robin’s arms unfolded as he made an odd choking noise. “You’re kidding me.”
You were confused, “Uh, no?”
“Of fucking course,” He muttered, then louder, “Yeah, I’m familiar. How about I hand it off to Gordon, I don’t want her to know we’re involved in this.”
“Um, sure.” Clearly, Robin was familiar with the cop, but had given no indication as to how. You decided to let it go. “So… was all that useful?”
“Well,” Robin paused to tap a crooked finger against his chin as he thought, “All the warehouses around here have been checked already, and the two on East End have already been pinged for the others to check them out, so all the information checks out.” He began to pace as he continued, “I am interested in the warehouse in Blüdhaven, that is new information.”
“So we actually did good?” You asked, quickly getting excited as you watched him stride back and forth, “We actually got something the others haven’t?”
Robin paused in the middle of his stride as your words seemed to sink in. His tone was surprised, but unmistakeably pleased as he looked back at you.
“Yeah, we have.”
You let out a loud whoop, and started jumping around the dusty floor in triumph.
“Fuck yes! I knew we could do it!”
Although you couldn’t be sure, you could have almost sworn you saw Robin smile.
Chapter 12: Longing
Notes:
I've jammed a bit into this chapter, so it's a bit longer, but hopefully still making sense! We'll see Red Hood and Spoiler again, and Amira and Damian will do another warehouse sweep that doesn't go quite as well as last time. But it's still a little fluffy as their not-relationship progresses
And yes, we are getting close to an identity reveal:))TW: attempted groping
As always, it is so nice to have comments from you all, I love hearing your thoughts! Take care, and if you're over in the winter half of the world - keep warm! <3
Chapter Text
AMIRA
Breakfast quickly became your favourite part of the day. Every morning you walked out after showering it was to see Robin sitting at the kitchen table. And every morning on seeing you, he would stand and begin to make you a coffee while you fetched yourself a bowl of cereal.
You would thank him as you both sat down, then you would pull that morning’s newspaper towards you, skim over the death notices, then turn to the crosswords and get stuck into it. You still weren’t able to complete a full one, but you could at least get halfway through. When you hit a wall you would look up to Robin, who was often already giving you his full attention, and you worked through the rest of it together.
Your heads often dipped close together as you thought over the last few words of the crossword. Robin still kept a careful distance from you, and you were careful not to cross it, but the gap between you both seemed to grow smaller and smaller each day.
One morning when you came out into the kitchen, Robin just gestured for you to sit straight back down at the table as you greeted him, and you diligently took a seat as you sent him a questioning glance. But as you watched, Robin made two cups of coffee and poured two bowls of cereal before bringing them over to the table and set them down.
You stared as he sat down across from you and shoved a mouthful of his cereal in. Robin noticed your increased attention and looked up at you with narrowed eyes.
What? His expression seemed to dare you to comment.
Shaking your head slightly, you took the first bite of your own breakfast with a smile.
From then on, no matter how early Robin seemed to get back to the apartment after patrol, he would wait for you to come out so you could have breakfast together.
It seemed you were both getting more comfortable around the other as the days passed. You started to move from your close-fitting pants and top to more of Orphan’s comfy sweaters and pants, although you were careful to always keep your gloves on. Even Robin had taken to leaving his cape and armour off when he was in the apartment, instead walking around in his mask and bodysuit covered by casual pants and long-sleeve.
It was strange to see Robin in clothing outside of the heroes suit that Gotham knew so well, but you found you liked it. He seemed more human in it, more relaxed, and you were pleased that he felt at ease enough to be able to leave off the armour – a sign that he considered the apartment a safe space, even with you in it.
Trying to keep your gaze away from the way his body filled out the clothing and the way his muscles flexed underneath it quickly became your biggest problem. Having Robin one day walk out in a grey long sleeve and black pants had stunned you enough that you had been unable to tear your gaze from him. For the first time, you got a glimpse of the person behind the mask; someone well put together, in expensive but comfortable clothing. He wore no colour, which didn’t actually surprise you, but there was an effortless air of elegance despite the casualness of his outfit.
You liked him, you knew, and you thought he was about the hottest guy you had ever met. But you often wrestled with yourself and trying to force those feelings down. Robin was here to guard you, and when the Grey Hawks were brought down, you would likely not see him again.
But it didn’t stop you wanting and wishing for more.
You both grew more comfortable in the other’s space, and most afternoon’s now you spent in the lounge together as you both did separate things. It was pretty often that you now found yourself laying back on the couch with your feet thrown up and a book in your hands, while Robin sat on the floor not far from you and sketched mindlessly while you pretended not to watch.
He often helped you with dinner now too, and if you were still cooking when he came out after sleeping through the day, Robin would insert himself seamlessly into the kitchen next to you, taking your directions and listening carefully when you explained how to do things.
It was nice, to be able to exist alongside Robin in such a capacity. You couldn’t help feeling that he felt like a friend. Other than Ryuu and Winston - who had been fifty years your senior - you had never had anyone that you could talk to and share space with and feel safe, let alone actually enjoy it.
You wondered if Robin felt the same. You were far too shy to ask.
One day, you brought a blank piece of paper over to Robin. You hesitated when you reached him, and he looked up questioningly from where he sat at the table reading through the latest updates the rest of the vigilantes had added to the Grey Hawk’s files.
“I was hoping you could help me,” You began hesitantly, “I found a website I can order an authentically made rug from over in Egypt, but they need a design and I have no idea where to start.” You shuffled your feet, wondering why it was so hard to ask for help all of a sudden. “I’ve seen some of your sketches and I just thought…. I- I need help,” You finished in a mutter.
Robin’s stare didn’t waver for long enough that you considered giving up and walking away. But he at last gave a small nod.
“What do you need?”
You all but slumped down into the chair beside him in relief.
“Well, they’ve got a few examples of symbols and patterns that could be worked into it, but I don’t know how to bring it all together.”
“Do you have anything you’re leaning towards?”
Your brought out your phone and showed Robin a few examples on the website.
“I quite like these,” You pointed out a couple in particular, “But not the colours.”
Robin took the phone from you to study the images more intently, “What colours would you want?”
“I definitely want blues and golds,” You smiled, “It reminds me of home.”
“You still consider Egypt home?” Robin paused in his browsing and looked across at you.
You shrugged, “Apart from the apartment I briefly had with Winston, I’ve never had a place to call my own here.”
“Hmm,” The small hum didn’t give indication to his thoughts on that comment, and Robin went back to studying the image. Eventually, he asked, “Do you want symbols on it?”
You tucked your legs underneath you on the chair, “I think so, but I’m not sure what.”
Robin slid your phone back across the table towards you.
“You pray to the old gods, correct?”
“Yes?”
“You could look into older symbols related to them, or hieroglyphics?”
“That’s… a really good idea.”
The pair of you spent the next couple of hours researching different symbols and patterns, making sketch after sketch and redrawing different shapes and shades. You were surprised despite yourself at just how knowledgeable Robin was, seeming to instinctively know what colours would interact nicely and giving advice on what patterns might work best. Eventually, you both settled on one you were happy with; an intricate pattern of blues and golds with highlights of bright red, and symbols of different protective gods at each corner. You held up the finished product before you both, smiling wide.
“Thank you,” You turned to Robin sincerely, “I love it.”
There was a small nod your way, he seemed uncomfortable as always at the thanks. But his head tilted slightly as he regarded you, “How are you going to get this?”
“One day I’ll have some money and my own place,” You were determined as you laid the paper back down before you. One day you would be able to afford to get things like this for yourself. “Then I’ll get it.”
Many more days passed in this new safehouse. Occasionally, others would stop in. While they gave every excuse under the sun as to why they needed to see Robin in person, you couldn’t help the feeling that they were often there to see you.
That feeling was soon proved to be correct.
You were surprised one day when a knock at the balcony door sounded moments before it opened on its own – you were sure it had been locked. However, you quickly understood the lock had been picked when Red Hood and Spoiler walked in like they owned the place.
“Hey, death-girl,” Red Hood greeted you cheerfully before making a beeline straight to the fridge and beginning to rifle through it.
You stared at Spoiler in some surprise when she came over to you and plopped onto the couch next to you with a friendly hello, entirely uncaring that her leg brushed against yours. You moved slightly away, not used to sitting so close to someone else, and drew your legs up under you.
“Hi, um, Robin’s not here,” You told them.
It was late enough in the night that he had long since left for patrol. Apparently he was being joined by Nightwing, which was why you wouldn’t be scoping out another warehouse tonight.
A snort came from the kitchen at your words, “Yeah, we know.”
You stared across at Red Hood in surprise, “So, why…?”
Spoiler grinned at you, “To see you, why else?”
Your words were confused, “But… why?” You couldn’t understand the need to stop by if they already knew their colleague was out.
“The demon isn’t giving us any information at all about how things are going, so we’re coming directly to the source.” Red Hood took out a Tupperware container and cracked the lid to sniff at it.
You couldn’t help your small smile at the boldness of his hunt for food. “You can have that if you want, it’s leftovers from tonight.”
He opened the lid fully to look inside, “What is it?”
“Fatayer.”
“Which is?”
“Stuffed pastries; traditionally it’s just spinach, onion and spice, but I’ve added ricotta.”
“No meat?” He almost sounded offended.
“We’re both vegetarians,” You explained.
Red Hood snorted again, “Fucking figures.” But he chucked the container in the microwave to reheat it anyway as he closed the fridge.
“You seem to know a bit about Robin,” Spoiler noted, and you grimaced at her sly look.
“He never tells me anything,” You admitted, “I either have to drag it out of him or figure it out for myself.”
She rolled her eyes, “I wouldn’t worry, he’s like that with everyone.”
“He’s a pain in the ass,” Red Hood complained loudly, tapping at the microwave as if that would make it work faster, “It’s a wonder we’ve put up with him this long.”
Spoiler sent him a sharp look, “He’s fine,” She defended, before looking at you a little guiltily as she admitted, “But we are all surprised he hasn’t demanded to be removed from this assignment at least a thousand times already.”
Red Hood barked out a short laugh, “I think B is more worried that he hasn’t been complaining.”
B could only be Batman, right? Were these two aware that he was Robin’s father?
You crossed your arms, “So you guys are here to figure out why he isn’t asking to be replaced?”
Finger guns were sent your way, “Bingo.”
The microwave beeped, and Red Hood grabbed the container out of it before tipping the multiple small pastries out onto a plate. He then brought his hand up to the base of his head and you heard a small click, and you were stunned when the vigilante then pulled off his mask and dropped it carelessly on the table next to him, revealing a handsome face and black hair that was broken by a small tuft of white at the front.
You were startled enough that you went mute as the mask came off, but it was Spoiler who sat up a bit straighter next to you in surprise, “What are you doing?”
“What? I’m dead,” Red Hood shoved a pastry in his mouth and grinned through the food, “It’s not like she can track me down when I don’t exist.” He paused and looked down at his plate in surprise, “Fuck, these are really good.”
You were gobsmacked at the uncaring way he had revealed his face, and were almost even more stunned by Spoiler’s easy disregard for it as she nodded agreeably. She waved a hand his way.
“Chuck me one.”
A pastry was thrown across the lounge and deftly caught by Spoiler, who pulled her mask down for a split second to shove the food in her mouth before pulling it up again. You averted your eyes as she did so, wondering if this was a test, or if these people were just a little crazy.
As you stared between the two vigilantes enjoying your food, you noticed Ryuu totter out from the bedroom, sniffing the air before its eyes narrowed in on Red Hood.
The dead man is here.
Marching across the lounge, it started a thorough snuffle at his lower legs. Red Hood stared down at the small kitten with an incredulous expression.
Definitely a Lazarus pit, Your familiar confirmed.
“Really? Hellspawn’s found another stray?” Red Hood scoffed.
“Actually, Ryuu is my familiar,” You explained before asking, “Hey, did you come from a Lazarus pit?”
The two people in the room suddenly stilled, jerking their heads around to stare at you. In particular, Red Hood’s expression was now closed off and full of suspicion.
“How do you know that?” He demanded.
Surprised at the sudden hostility, you blinked between both of the suddenly very serious expressions turned your way.
“Ryuu can smell it; he noticed after smelling your scent last time.”
“Oh.” And just like that, Red Hood was sitting back again and Spoiler was relaxing, both entirely at ease once more. “Yeah, I did.”
Interesting, Ryuu mused, sitting back at Red Hood’s feet and peering up at him. The Lazarus pits have not been in use for many centuries outside of the League of Assassins.
I’m not sure I’m going to ask, You thought dryly. The hostility had been unexpected, and you weren’t going to poke at what was clearly a sore subject.
“Yo, Hood,” Spoiler called from beside you, “Throw me another one!”
This time, the pastry came rocketing across the room at a great rate of knots, fast enough it might have put a hole in the wall if not for Spoiler catching it – somehow making it look as easy as the first time.
“These are delicious!” She hummed around the mouthful before looking back across to Red Hood, “Do you reckon Alfred would make – oh.” Her gaze darted back to you, looking immediately guilty. “Whoops, you didn’t hear that, okay?”
You gave her a small smile, “Hear what?”
She laughed heartily and swung an arm over your shoulders, “I knew I liked you.”
You stilled, stunned and immediately anxious at the casual contact. That and you were entirely unsure how to get out of it. Glancing over at you, Spoiler seemed to notice your sudden distress.
“What?” She asked, concerned.
You swallowed, staying absolutely still under her arm, “You – You can’t touch me.”
Spoiler cocked her head, “Why not?”
“I see the future when I touch people’s skin.” Surely she had heard that before. You looked across to Red Hood, who was looking amazingly unconcerned as he scoffed down another pastry. “You know this.” He merely shrugged and popped in another mouthful.
“I’m not touching your skin,” Spoiler said, pulling her arm back just long enough to flex and twist it, “See? Full sleeves and gloves, just like you.”
You chewed your lower lip. She wasn’t wrong, but after a whole life spent actively avoiding touch, the casual and carefree arm over your shoulders felt awkward enough that it left you wooden and uneasy, “I – I guess…”
“You still look uncomfy,” She pulled back as she saw you weren’t relaxing at all, at last giving you some space.
“Sorry,” You apologised automatically, slightly embarrassed by your reaction, “I’ve never really had physical contact with anyone… like ever.”
Red Hood raised an eyebrow your way, “Well that’s sad.”
Spoiler was frowning, looking concerned, “Not even parents?”
“I don’t have parents.”
To your surprise, Red Hood laughed at that, “Oh, B’s gonna love you.”
Spoiler shot him a quick glare before turning back to you, “Look, Robin is really not a touchy feely sort of person, so I understand you’ve been starved for attention these last few weeks.” She smiled again, “But I like hugs and we’re going to be great friends, so you’d better get used to it.”
You blinked at her, really not sure what to make of her declaration.
“Okay?”
Red Hood laughed, “Back off Spoiler. The poor girl is used to Robin, and we all know he’ll be the first person to keep at least five metres away at all times.”
You thought back to the many times that Robin had been distinctly not five metres away, and you couldn’t help your blush on remembering being pressed up so hard against a wall by him just a couple of nights ago.
Spoiler’s eyes instantly narrowed, her sharp gaze missing nothing, “What was that?”
“What?” Shit. You turned your head slightly away to hide your burning cheeks, but it was too late.
Spoiler stabbed an accusing finger towards you, starting to look more and more excited, “You blushed!”
“I don’t…” You gave up the half-formed protest and glanced back to Red Hood, mumbling uncomfortably, “I’m just not sure you’re entirely correct.” To your acute embarrassment, your blush deepened further.
“Holy shit!” Spoiler spun off the couch to crouch down in front of you and all but physically beg as she pleaded, “I have to hear everything!”
“Well I definitely don’t.” Red Hood stood from the table and grabbed his mask with a grimace, “Come on, gossip girl, we have to get back out before B misses us.”
“No! Please! You don’t understand!” Spoiler continued to protest long enough that Red Hood had to come over, grab her, and start dragging her bodily towards the door, “This could be the most important thing that’s ever happened to us! Amira! Why did you blush?! Wait!”
Her struggling did her no good, and Red Hood sent you a small salute as he opened your door to drag her out into the night. Spoiler’s last words were all but shouted behind her, “Make sure you use protection!”
“Fucking hell,” Red Hood’s groan was the last thing you heard before the door slammed shut.
If you had been blushing before, your cheeks were now aflame. That was entirely the wrong idea. You glanced across to Ryuu, who still sat at the table but was now watching you. Your familiar was purring hard, radiating a feeling of intense amusement. You put your head in your hands.
Not a word was mentioned about their visit to Robin when he arrived back the next morning.
As another week passed, you and Robin made it out to a few of the other warehouses. From the updates to the files Robin had been carefully tracking from the other vigilantes, it seemed there had been minimal progress on tracking down the leadership of the Grey Hawks. All of the warehouses your first ghost had mentioned had been found – excluding the possibility of one in Blüdhaven. But each of the warehouses cleared by the others had been packed up and thoroughly cleaned of evidence.
Which meant as far as you and Robin were concerned, it was up to you.
You worked your way through a few more of the warehouses, finding no ghosts or evidence in the first, but in the subsequent buildings finding two or three. Each set of ghosts confirmed there being a Blüdhaven warehouse, but none were unable to say where it was. However every ghost you pulled back to talk to expressed the same wish Dave had – a wish to see the downfall of the Grey Hawk Gang.
You were beginning to realise just how much of an impact the gang were having on the average citizens life in Gotham. They targeted those who needed something, be it money or drugs or protection, then those people were used until they were no longer useful, and then they were discarded. It was quickly leaving behind a trail of bodies of innocent people swept up into empty promises, with the end goal of merely needing drug mules or people to take the fall for the more dangerous members of the gang.
Both yourself and Robin seemed to feel the urgency increase with the more ghosts you met and spoke to. There had been far more recent deaths than Robin had seemed to be expecting, making the Grey Hawks a bigger threat than first thought.
But it had only been a matter of time before you pulled a ghost back that was less inclined to help, and that night had eventually come when Robin brought you to a warehouse in the East End.
This time when the ghost had materialised in, he looked around for far less time than the others before focussing directly in on you. He seemed entirely unconcerned to see Robin standing nearby, or at the massive, dark building he had suddenly found himself in.
“Hello,” You greeted him, hoping he might be a little less terrified than the others had been when they were first pulled back. “I’m hoping to ask you about the Grey Hawk Gang.”
The ghost’s gaze looked you up and down, and then a strange smile crossed his face. It wasn’t like the friendly and open smiles you got from Superboy or Nightwing or Spoiler, it was something slimy and wanting, and it made you feel uncomfortable.
“Well, well,” He took a step towards you, “This is a sight better than where I was.”
You frowned and took a small step back towards Robin, who immediately grew more alert as you retreated that little bit towards him. Ryuu’s hackles raised at the small step as well, and your familiar grew in size as it started to snarl, no doubt feeling your growing uncertainty.
“What is it?” Robin asked, looking agitated. You weren’t quite sure what exactly was wrong yet, but you weren’t liking the look you were getting from the man before you.
“He can’t see me, can he?” The ghost leered at you as he took a step closer, “That’s just about perfect I think.”
“Look,” You started, tone full of warning, “I only want to know about – “
You gasped as the man suddenly lunged without warning, and the icy hands of the ghost swiped through your chest before you could jerk back fast enough to avoid them.
A hand jerked out towards the ghost from instinct alone, and a massive burst of power sent the man hurtling back through the air to slam him against the far wall, pinning him in place. The sudden, massive surge of your magic instantly froze and shattered the rapidly contracting glass in and around the building, sending it smashing all around you with a loud crash.
Immediately at your side, Robin was about as close to you as he could get without physically touching you. His misty breaths warmed your neck as he crowded you in a distinctly protective way. Hands curled around but didn’t quite settle on your waist, as if he was waiting for the slightest proof of physical danger before whisking you away.
“What just happened?” He demanded harshly, “Are you okay?”
You glared at the ghost of the man far across from you, who was still held suspended in place and spitting out curses and explicit derogatory remarks towards you as he struggled. A small part of you was aware that your voice was notably shaken, but all you felt was anger.
“He just… He tried to touch me,” You ground out. Robin stilled behind you, suddenly and completely stiff.
“He what?”
The fierce venom in his voice actually startled you out of the worst of your own anger, because you hadn’t expected that his fury might outpace your own. At your side, Ryuu was an enormous panther prowling around you and growling loudly in clear warning for nothing to approach. You stared across at the struggling and spitting ghost, unsure how to reply, when Robin spoke again.
“Get rid of him.” His order was taut.
Taken aback, you craned your neck to look up at Robin where he stood behind you, “Huh?”
Robin glanced down at you, expression full of rage, “Send him back.”
“But we haven’t asked any – “
Your surprised protest was quickly interrupted, “We don’t need to ask questions of someone like that.” Robin’s snarl was so furious that the ghost paused in his struggle. He actually looked scared as he took in the enraged vigilante behind you, despite knowing he could be neither seen nor heard.
Looking from Robin’s furious, stiff form back to the ghost who was starting to struggle again, you sighed and nodded. It took little power to dissolve the thin tether, and the man disappeared.
As the frigid chill of your power lifted, Robin relaxed ever so slightly, though his voice was still tight.
“The windows shattering like that will draw attention, we should leave.”
“Right, of course.”
You felt strangely off balance as you followed Robin out of the building and into the nearby shadowy alleyways. He kept close to you, never quite touching you, but hovering in a way you weren’t used to. It reminded you of when you had been injured post the desperate escape from the Grey Hawks in your last safehouse, and you wondered why he was treating you as fragile.
Of course, you felt fragile. The last thing you had expected was for one of the ghosts you dredged up to try and assault you. While you had the power to protect yourself easily, it still felt like a violation.
You were grateful for Robin’s absolute refusal to continue interacting with the man, and you drew strength from the solid form at your side. Not quite touching, but within arm’s reach. Ryuu stuck close as well, the black panther snarling aggressively at any new sound, no doubt unsettled by your tumultuous mental state. But the familiar lingered behind you, apparently willing to trust your immediate safety to Robin as it checked your surroundings.
Eventually, you both reached his bike, and you made a beeline for it, eager to leave the darkened streets behind for something more familiar.
“Amira,” You paused as Robin called your name, his tone softer than you had ever heard it, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I…” Was shaken. Perhaps even more so by Robin’s soft tone and clear protectiveness. You shrugged, wishing you could shrug off the memory of the icy brush against you just as easily. “He couldn’t actually touch me; I was never in any danger.”
Robin frowned, but the expression was more of concern than any sort of irritation.
“Don’t ever put up with that,” He said firmly, “Not for information, not for anything.”
You smiled, but the expression was tense, and you knew it wasn’t half as carefree as you were trying for as you attempted to reassure him.
“I’m a big girl, Robin.” You said as he stepped closer to you, “I’ve come this far.”
He let out a long sigh, the sound a release of his tension as Robin’s rigid posture sagged. A gloved hand came up and reached for your chin as if to brush against it, but then that hand was lowered, and you had to wonder if Robin ever had the intent to touch you in the first place.
In that instant, you hated your powers, and wished more than anything to be normal. If only so you could lean into the comfort Robin might offer, and feel what it was like to be touched with something other than greedy intent.
The ride home was silent, and you parted ways that night without another word.
Come morning, things fell back into their usual routine, and you hoped that last night’s events would be forgotten in the morning light. But you noticed that Robin watched you carefully that morning as you sipped your coffee and worked your way through the crossword. His expression worked its way between concerned, frustrated, and bewildered.
Eventually sick of being silently picked apart, you put your mug down with a sigh and looked straight at him.
“I’m fine, Robin, really.”
He frowned, but apparently wasn’t going to pretend he hadn’t been assessing you all morning.
“You shouldn’t be.”
You scrunched your nose at him, “Um, okay?”
“I’m serious, Amira.” He certainly sounded serious, and one of his fingers tapped the edge of the newspaper you were working on agitatedly. “Anyone else wouldn’t be doing the crossword like nothing happened.”
“I grew up on the streets, Robin.” You reminded him lightly as you turned your attention back to the paper and counted a word out onto your crossword, “It’s not the first time I’ve dealt with unwanted attention.”
Glancing up to see a glimmer of his fury from last night cross his face, you were quick to continue.
“When I say I dealt with it…” You sent a small smile across to your familiar curled up on the couch, “I mean Ryuu dealt with it.”
Robin followed your gaze, and Ryuu picked up its head to yawn widely, displaying tiny, pinprick sharp teeth. The former’s eyes darted back towards you, the look assessing.
“I guess I expected you to be more impacted.”
“Oh, it impacted me,” You confirmed, dipping your head to scrawl another word onto the paper, “But I threw him into a wall, and you are probably the first person to ever make a ghost piss themselves in fear.” You looked up again to wink at him, “So I’m relatively pleased he got his comeuppance.”
Robin stared at you incredulously, but on meeting your calm stare, his head dropped forward to thud against the table as he groaned.
You snorted, amused at his theatrics, “What?”
“You are so… infuriating.” His words were mumbled against the table.
You smiled, absurdly pleased to know the ever-capable Robin found you challenging enough to break his façade of general irritation at the world, “Thank you.”
“I know you’re smiling,” This was said against the table, and only then did Robin’s head come up to actually see it for himself as he glared your way, “That was not a compliment.”
You grinned more widely and took a sip of your coffee, “Uh huh.”
Robin rolled his eyes at you, but the corner of his mouth twitched up into a small smile, and you basked in the expression, triumphant that you had finally seen it.
The high from finally seeing the grumpy, abrasive, and constantly aggrieved vigilante smile, stuck with you all the way through to the terror of waking up that night to a crash from inside the apartment.
Sitting bolt upright out of sleep, you checked the time to see it was 2am – far too early for Robin to be back in from patrol. Holding your breath, you listened hard, for a moment sure that you must have dreamt it up. But sure enough, heavy footsteps sounded from down the hall as someone walked through the lounge.
Trying your best to keep your mad scramble out of bed silent, you considered for a moment calling for Superboy. Robin had told you that even speaking at normal voice would get his attention, and he would be here in seconds. But something held you back; there was no warning tingle in your spine.
Maybe it was stupid to rely so heavily on your powers to tell you if the person crashing through your safehouse was a danger, but you were so used to the cool chill to warn you, that not feeling it now made you bolder than you perhaps should have been.
Making a short stop only to pull a dagger from Robin’s stash on his nightstand, you quietly opened the bedroom door and crept into the hallway. You saw a lamp had been turned on in the lounge, and your heart kickstarted into a faster rhythm on seeing the shadow of a man cross the wall you could see. The footsteps you had heard before sounded again as the shadow moved, but you were surprised when they sounded unsteady. The sound of tearing fabric came from just out of your sight, and a pained grunt followed it.
Wait, you knew that grunt.
“Robin??”
You rounded the corner, holding the dagger out loosely in front of you even as you were faced with exactly who you expected to see. What you didn’t expect to see was the vigilante hunched over a chair at the table, breathing hard as he pressed a large handful of gauze against his lower back, and dripping blood all over the floor.
“Holy shit,” You all but tossed the dagger you held across the room to free your hands as you darted over to him, “What happened?”
“I’m fine,” Robin rasped, but his voice was heavy with pain, “What are you doing up?”
“I heard a crash…” You glanced around briefly, spying a splatter and small pool of blood just inside the door. Robin must have seen your gaze catch on it.
“I fell,” He muttered.
“What happened?” You repeated, horrified to see he was already bleeding through the large wad of gauze over his wound.
“I interrupted a mugging,” Robin admitted with a wince, “Didn’t see the fourth guy, he had a knife.”
“You’ve been stabbed?”
Robin scowled at you as he added another bit of gauze to the pile, “It’ll be fine after some stitches, go back to bed.”
“Like hell,” You scoffed, crossing your arms, “How are you expecting to be able to do you own stitches when you’ve literally been stabbed in the back?”
Robin scowled harder, but his silence spoke volumes. Gentling your tone, you stepped closer.
“Let me help,” You pleaded.
“You can’t touch me,” He stated firmly.
“Not skin to skin,” You pointed out, “I’ll wear long sleeves and double gloves, it’ll be okay.” Your worried voice grew a little more pointed when he didn’t answer, “Robin you’re bleeding all over the floor, you don’t really have a choice.”
“Fine,” He snapped, then he sighed and repeated with less anger, “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”
Robin followed you to the bathroom, and you didn’t miss the slight hiss that escaped him as he moved. You directed him to sit on the edge of the bath while you pulled out the first aid kit and set yourself up. You were watched carefully as you did so.
“Have you ever even done stitches before?” Robin asked. He sounded angry, but you could see it was only as a cover for the amount of pain he was in, so you kept your reply even.
“Yes. I sew often, don’t worry.”
“I wasn’t worried,” His mutter was quiet, but you smiled briefly all the same as you pulled two sets of medical gloves over each hand. Getting the second pair on was a bit difficult, but you were going to be touching Robin’s bare skin, the last thing you wanted was an accidental tear in the gloves to cause a vision.
There was a moment’s hesitation as you turned back to him, and you both realised at the same time that his top needed to come off. With a short huff, Robin was the first to move, and you averted your eyes as he gave up on holding the gauze to his wound, instead unclipping his cape and reaching back to put the top half of his suit off and over his head.
“Fuck.” His curse was muffled as he moved, the sound full of pain. You grimaced as you glanced back, but then stilled in place as you got your first good look at a shirtless Robin.
Fuck. Your silent curse mirrored his as you sucked in an involuntary breath. He was as heavily muscled as the hints you had seen under his clothing had indicated, and the entirety of his dark bronze chest, back, and arms were covered in both old and new scarring. The sight was both impressive and saddening, the scars a patchwork that spoke to how harsh his life had been and just how much he had overcome.
Robin looked up at you on hearing your hitched breath, but you had turned quickly back to your set up of supplies, hoping that you were turned enough he wouldn’t see your blush, or that you were biting your lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood.
As soon as you felt you had control over your expression again, you turned back.
“Alright, let’s have a look.”
You moved closer to sit on the edge of the bath next to him, and used some saline flushes to clear the worst of the blood from the wound so you could see it more clearly. Robin stiffened as the cold water moved over the wound but stayed silent.
“Okay,” You pulled back after assessing it, “It’s not very deep, but it is long.”
“That’s good,” The words were gritted out through his teeth.
You dragged your equipment closer, hesitating before reaching out to touch him, feeling like you had to give some sort of warning.
“This is going to hurt.”
Robin’s response was tense, “I’m aware.”
You pressed your lips together as you reached out to lay a steadying hand on his back, trying hard not to pay attention to the hard muscle underneath, the warmth radiating from him, or the fact that you were actually touching Robin’s bare skin. If he was stiff before, he went utterly rigid under your touch, and you hoped having one hand on his back would either prepare or distract him from the stitches.
“Here we go.”
You tried to be quick, but were more worried about doing a good job. The wound was long and ragged, and you hoped to avoid a jagged scar by keeping your stitches tight and neat. Thankfully, the bleeding stopped as you worked, making it easier to see. Robin was silent throughout, but the tenseness to his body didn’t ease even slightly while you worked. When you tied off the thread, you dressed the wound carefully before pulling back and starting to throw all the bloody gauze and instruments into the bin.
“All done,” You reported as you stood.
Robin seemed to let out a long breath before also standing, the movement slow and careful. He stepped up to the vanity to check your handiwork in the mirror before looking back your way.
“Thank you.” You couldn’t quite decipher the expression that came with the grudging thanks, but you thought you might have seen something curious glinting there.
You bobbed your head in an awkward nod, still trying to keep your eyes off his bare chest as you pulled the medical gloves off and started washing your hands.
“You should take some morphine and go to bed,” You recommended, “I can clean up.”
As expected, his expression drew down into a frown and he opened his mouth to argue.
“Don’t argue with me, Robin,” You warned, beating him to it, “You’ve literally just been stabbed, and you’re clearly sore, just…” You sighed, glancing aside at the bin full of bloodied gauze, “Look after yourself, please.”
The irritated look your way softened at your last words, and eventually, a heavy sigh left his lips.
“Alright.”
You smiled his way, knowing it didn’t quite reach your eyes through your continuing concern.
“Goodnight,” You said as he turned away to leave. But at your words, Robin paused, and looked back over his shoulder.
“Goodnight, Amira.”
Chapter 13: Decisions
Notes:
Its time for something to really HAPPEN. You wanted identity reveal, you're getting identity reveal!!
But no sudden end to the slow burn sorry (hehe)Take care <3
Chapter Text
DAMIAN
The first sign that something was wrong was when Amira didn’t smile at him that morning.
As she had walked into the lounge, hair still mussed from sleep, he had got up to get her the usual coffee and cereal. But when he put it down in front of her there was no smile, and Damian instead saw anxiety in the blue eyes that looked up at him.
Damian plopped himself down in the chair across from her, already frowning.
“What is it?”
She gave a one-armed shrug and picked up her spoon to start mindlessly stirring her cereal, “It’s just a feeling.”
Well that probably wasn’t good. Damian tried to find out more.
“Like when the Grey Hawks found us last time?”
“No, it’s less direct than that,” Amira seemed to struggle to find the words to describe it, “More like a vague uneasiness.”
He huffed, “Any way to narrow that down?”
“I could try meditate,” Amira looked apologetic, “But I’m not sure it would do much good for something so unclear.”
“Alright,” Damian sighed and sat back to think. There wasn’t much they could do about such an indistinct feeling except make sure to cover their movements even more carefully. “Then we stay cautious, and try not to worry about it.”
But when we woke up later that day, although the smile was now present, it still wasn’t as bright and carefree as usual. He had to admit, not seeing its usual brilliance was disconcerting.
He looked carefully over the woman standing in the kitchen while stirring a pot of truly delicious smelling food. Amira’s shoulders were tense despite her smile, and the blueness to her eyes glittered with anxiety.
“We don’t have to go out tonight,” The words were pulled from him before he could properly think them through, “We can postpone.”
Postpone? Damian wasn’t sure he had ever postponed an investigation in his life. When he had a goal in sight, he believed getting things done promptly was best. But seeing the look on Amira’s face had him willing to pull back, he didn’t want to force her to help, as invaluable as it was turning out to be.
But she was already shaking her head, “No, I don’t have any indication as to what is actually wrong, just that something is.”
Damian sighed. He should be pleased at her refusal to put tonight off, but he found he was unsettled. He stepped into the kitchen and carefully pulled the spoon from her hands to continue stirring in her place.
“If you’re sure.”
The smile his way was a little more genuine now as Amira moved to the oven to check the food in there, “Thanks, Robin. I’m sure it’ll be okay.”
The meal was incredible, as always, and they spent a few hours quietly reading and sketching across the room from each other as they waited for darkness to fall fully. Once night had truly taken hold, they geared up and went out.
It had become a far more normal experience to zoom through Gotham on his motorcycle with the small woman clinging to his back and a tiny kitten in the back of his hood. Damian made sure that each night he was disabling every locator but his emergency beacon and watching carefully to see where the others patrolling were at all times. The last thing they needed was to run into one of Gotham’s many vigilantes when they were so far from the safehouse they were meant to be at.
As usual, they parked up in a dark alley a couple of blocks from the warehouse they were investigating that night. Damian was particularly interested in this one, as Dick and Bruce had been through it and found exactly nothing. Nothing. But the ghosts they had previously spoken to were convinced this had been used by Grey Hawks, which meant there had to be something to find.
Creeping to the edge of the alley, Damian glanced back to see Amira close behind him. With only a small nod between them, he darted out and down the street, hearing the light steps that meant she followed closely. A small shadow swooped overhead as Ryuu followed their progress from above.
He had been impressed at the effortless way she seemed to blend into the shadows without any training whatsoever, and he had to wonder if her powers were subconsciously protecting her. The shadows seemed to fold her outline into them as she passed, and if she paused in a particularly dark corner, it became hard for even Damian to make her out, only the pale blue eyes blinking at him giving him reference to where her face was.
She wore the same clothes she had the last few times, something close fitting and black. It threw her pale eyes into stark relief and made the deep shade of midnight black to her hair even more impressive.
Damian tried to keep his eyes away from her, because when his gaze lingered too long, his thoughts thrust him back to their first night out when he’d had to press them both into a small alcove to hide them.
Having his arms tight around her and her body pressed up hard against him had almost been enough to distract him entirely from the approaching threat. When she had tried to twist away, the curve of her breasts had grazed against his hand, and he’d had to press her harder against the wall, desperate to pin her in place so her body would stop rubbing against his. If Damian was honest with himself, hiding from the two approaching men had quickly taken a back seat against the inner raging fight with his self-control.
It had taken far more effort than it should have to tear himself away from Amira, and he had spent the entire rest of the night cursing himself for the burning feeling in his body that craved more.
Damian forced his thoughts back to the present as they approached their latest abandoned warehouse. After deftly unpicking the locked service door, Damian and Amira stepped inside.
This place was little more than a hard concrete shell with a massive space in the middle. A giant skylight made up most of the roof, but a few panes of glass between the metal ribs were missing. Flicking on his torch, Damian saw the shattered remains of them over the floor. He agreed with his father’s notes on the find, it almost looked as if it had been knocked out by something, as one of the metal ribs of the skylight was ever so slightly bent.
He worked his way carefully through the rest of the large space, Amira keeping within a few paces of him as he moved. A dark shape slunk in through the door behind them, and Damian recognised the bright yellow eyes of Ryuu as the familiar joined them.
As he swept his torch beam into one corner, it startled a group of sleeping pigeons, which squawked and noisily took flight towards them. Amira shrieked at the sudden flurry of cawing and flapping wings that came their way, and Damian spun and dragged her down, covering them both with his cape. The last thing they needed was to get accidentally clawed and come down with some anomalous disease.
As the birds funnelled out of the hole in the roof, Damian pulled back his cape, but noted Amira stayed crouched over and was shaking. At first Damian thought she was more scared than he expected, but then he quickly realised Amira was laughing.
“Fuck, sorry,” She gasped around breathless laughs, “That scared the shit out of me.”
Damian took a step away to study Amira incredulously as she staggered to her feet, still giggling despite the hand she had pressed to her mouth.
“And your instinct is to laugh?”
“I screamed first,” She defended through another laugh that almost bordered on hysterical. “I just wasn’t expecting it.” Amira sucked in a deep breath, finally settling, “I guess I’m a bit on edge.”
He just shook his head at her. Every time Damian thought he might understand things when it came to Amira, she surprised him again.
After clearing the rest of the warehouse and much like his father, finding nothing of note apart from some strange scuff marks on the floor, Damian turned to Amira.
“There’s nothing,” He reported, “It’s up to you.”
Now serious again, Amira let out a breath as she looked around. She twisted a lock of hair around one finger; discomfort. Damian’s eyes narrowed on seeing it.
“Is that feeling from this morning still there?”
“It is,” Amira confirmed quietly, admitting, “But it’s not worse.”
Damian just stood back and crossed his arms. They had come this far, to back out now on a half-formed feeling of uneasiness would be frustrating for sure. But he was willing to let Amira make the decision without his interference.
“Alright, alright,” After a moment more of gnawing at one lip, Amira made her way to the centre of the building, evidently having made up her mind. “Let’s just get this over with.”
She kicked a piece of glass out of her way and lowered herself to the ground, tucking her legs beneath her. But she still glanced around as if expecting to see something she didn’t, expression uneasy.
Damian took a few steps towards her.
“I’ll be here.”
It was a reminder, but also reassurance. He could see his words do their job, and the uncertainty on the beautiful face before him smoothed.
Amira settled, and just before her eyes closed, Damian saw the sudden shift in her eyes that came with her use of magic as her pale blue eyes suddenly glowed a pure white, shimmering and swirling light.
It was strange to watch her meditate, and Damian prowled around the edges of the building with Ryuu as he doubled checked the space more thoroughly. But each time he split away from Amira, he seemed inexplicably drawn back.
Somehow, she sat with a posture both tense and entirely relaxed at the same time. Her breaths moved so slowly in and out that Damian had to really focus each time he wanted to check they were actually there.
While the temperature drop was noticeable, it was more of a chill in the air when she mediated, rather than the icy frigidness of a plunging drop when she manipulated ghosts or the tethers she had talked of. Strangely, the prick of ice at his spine had become something familiar and almost welcome to Damian. Perhaps he was starting to associate it with the brightness and goodness of Amira, rather than the loss of control that came with having his soul toyed with.
Watching her carefully, Damian became convinced that the shadows did in fact move around her. Darkness rolled and undulated slowly, the edges seeming to lap up her body, as if welcoming something it recognised as a likeness. The scene was strangely tranquil, as if the softly pulsating darkness around the meditating Deathweaver held a similarity to waves cresting over the shore once the sun had set and midnight reigned.
Damian longed to paint it.
He could see how vulnerable meditating like this was for her, especially since she was unaware of her surroundings. Damian could hardly believe she had done this before, even with Ryuu to watch out for her. It never ceased to amaze Damian the depths to which she was willing to trust him with her safety during these moments. It was… humbling.
Both himself and Amira had grown up not being able to trust those around them and being unsafe in their surroundings. But while Damian had come out wary and suspicious of everyone he met, Amira seemed to accept and lean into even the slightest kindness, no matter who it came from.
A sudden growl from one side had Damian jerking his head around to focus on Ryuu. The small cat was growing quickly to a much larger panther as the quiet growl increased to a loud, agitated rumble.
“What is it?”
Ryuu jerked its snout towards the service door they had broken in through. And then Damian heard it. Quiet, but rapidly growing louder, the sound of multiple motorcycle engines heading their way.
Damian cursed roundly as he darted back towards Amira, unsure what to do. She had told him in no uncertain terms never to interfere with her meditation, the chance too great of trapping her between realities. But when the engines grew closer and closer only to finally cut out outside the building they were in, he felt his options quickly narrowing.
Running silently over to take a glance out of the door, Damian was alarmed to see a small group of men in the signature dark grey of the Grey Hawks dismounting form their bikes. Why were they back? This place had been cleared weeks ago.
He pulled back as he thought quickly. They couldn’t get caught here. Not only would he be hard pressed to protect an unmoving Amira while fighting five men, but it would tip the Grey Hawks off that the Deathweaver herself had now joined the vigilantes in their hunt.
It left Damian with an impossible decision, but he made the only one he could.
“Amira.” He crouched before her, calling her name as loudly as he dared, praying it might snap her out of the meditative state. “Amira!”
There was no reaction at all, so he reached out to clasp her shoulder and call again. Still, nothing.
Voices sounded from far too close.
“Hey, look at this!”
The people outside had arrived at the door, discovering it slightly ajar with lock picked.
“You think the bats have been here?”
Damian was out of time.
He grasped both of her shoulders and shook her, voice low but harsh with urgency, “Amira! Come on, wake up!”
Amira startled awake. For a moment, her eyes opened the whole way – but they were the shifting, glowing expanse of white and not the soft blue that Damian was so familiar with – and then she was slumping sideways, utterly formless as he caught her in his arms before she hit the ground.
“Beware the demon king, standing above his city and his enemies – “
Amira’s quiet voice rasped from her throat, and Damian had to lean in as he realised she was talking. But her half-open, glowing eyes stared up at nothing, her lips the only part of her that was moving.
“Fuck,” He cursed.
He realised she was utterly unconscious; the words being driven out of her by a power he didn’t understand. “ – At his side, a champion of the gods – “
“Fuck!”
The sound of the door handle being tested cut through the realisation that Amira was indeed trapped in a vision. Damian jerked his head towards the sound, knowing that when the door opened, they would get a view straight at Robin crouched in the centre of the space with the Deathweaver in his arms, bodies outlined by the moonlight from above.
But then Ryuu was shifting into a large black raven and flying towards the door. When it opened, the raven screeched and flew at the startled men outside, clawing at their faces.
“Argh!”
“What the fuck!”
They screamed as they batted at Ryuu, who deftly dodged their flailing arms before flying away.
“What the hell was that?” A frightened yell came from outside.
“We just startled a bird,” Another replied, sounding just as shaken as the door was finally pushed open, “Get a hold of yourselves.”
Damian was already gone. As Ryuu gave him the distraction he needed, he threw Amira over a shoulder and grabbed his grappling hook with his other hand, shooting it directly up so it looped over a metal bar of the already broken skylight above. He whisked them up and climbed quickly onto the part of the roof that wasn’t glass, getting them immediately out of sight of anyone coming into the building below.
“Do you think the bats set it up?” Once voice ventured, filtering up to Damian through the skylight.
“It was a fucking bird,” Another snapped, “Even the Batman can’t talk to animals.”
Ryuu, now a small blackbird, swooped in to perch on Damian’s shoulder. He smirked at the familiar as it cocked its head at him.
“Nice job.”
A quiet chirp came from the bird.
Glancing quickly over the edge of the building to see no one waited outside the building who might witness their escape, Damian took aim with his grapple hook and swung them away.
The night air was frigid, and he couldn’t help wondering if the sudden drop in temperature was being directly affected by Amira’s sudden lack of control over her abilities. The whole city would feel it, she had said once, if her powers had no cap on them.
He kept his hold tight on the unconscious woman over his shoulder as he swung them multiple buildings over, trying to get them a reasonable distance from the small group of gang members before he stopped to reassess.
Eventually he alighted on a tall building and set Amira down.
Her eyes were still half open, and hoarse words still poured from her mouth as though she was completely unable to stop it. While they formed sentences, they made no sense to Damian.
“ – duo of skill and power, destined to change the world – “
Deciding there wasn’t much more harm he could do, Damian shook her again, hard.
“Amira? Wake up!”
But no matter what he did, he couldn’t rouse her at all, or even pause the stream of words that fell from her mouth. He couldn’t get her back to the safehouse on his motorbike, not with her like this.
Cursing his luck, the Grey Hawks, but most of all – himself, Damian reached for his phone and hit speed dial.
A surprised voice finally picked up, “Hello?”
“Dick…” Damian hesitated, then sighed and admitted grudgingly, “I need a favour.”
There was a groan from the other end.
“Does it have to be now? See I’m having this great night with Kori and – “
“I do not need to know,” Damian cut in sharply, “Yes it has to be now.”
Grumbled curses came from Dick’s end, along with words from further away not directed towards him.
“Yes, I know… Yeah, its Damian… Look he never asks for favours… Kori, I’ll make it up to you later…” Dick’s voice then came back more clearly, the rustling of clothes shifting in the background, “This had better be good, Dami,” He grumbled, “I’m going to be in so much trouble for this.”
Damian grimaced because yeah, so was he.
Damian stood with arms crossed, shoulder to shoulder with Dick as they both stared down at the motionless woman on the bed.
“I’ll admit,” Dick said at last, “I have no idea what to do.”
After pulling up next to the building they had sheltered on in a car, Damian had been quick to bundle Amira into the back seat and demand Dick take them back to the safehouse. After a very brief version of events, they had both spent some time trying to wake her before finally giving up.
Amira lay completely limp on the bed, but her eyes were still half-open, gazing unseeingly at the ceiling as the milky white glow to them shifted and swirled. Her rough voice continued without pause, constantly speaking with the rasp Damian recognised from when she usually pulled out of a vision. This time though, she wasn’t surfacing at all.
Dick tilted his head, curiosity written across his face, “What’s she even saying?”
They both paused and leaned close as they listened hard.
“ – change the world. To save and destroy will be at their discretion. Both an enigma of light and dark, they will rule the city with a heart of corruption and shape it in their image. Beware the demon king - “
Damian frowned as he recognised some of the words, “I think she’s looping through the same few sentences.”
“Can you make any sense of it?”
“No.”
And he didn’t want to. Amira currently had no filter between whatever she was seeing and the words that spilled from her. The last thing Damian wanted to do was draw conclusions that might alter his future.
Dick sighed heavily at his side, “This is way outside of my realm of knowledge,” He admitted, “Maybe we should call Zatanna?”
“No,” Damian was quick to shoot that option down. “She’ll just tell father.”
“Dami…” Dick hesitated before seeming to brace himself, “Maybe Bruce should know.”
“No.”
“Damian, you’ve been taking the woman you’re meant to be protecting out around the city into places directly associated with the gang that’s after her,” Dick pointed out, “It’s a pretty big stray from what you’re meant to be doing.”
Damian glared at the man next to him, who winced on seeing his growing anger.
“You don’t understand,” He growled, “She’s getting information none of you have been able to.”
“How would you – “ Dick’s surprise didn’t last long before he groaned, “You’ve hacked into the files. Why am I not surprised?”
Damian let out a long breath, trying to reign his anger in, knowing only sharing what they had so far with Dick would be able to convince him. He grabbed his phone.
“Here,” Damian pulled up a file of his own and handed it over, “A list of warehouses and a list of names of accomplices. Underneath are locations of stockpiles of weapons, drugs and money all related to the Grey Hawks activities.”
Dick’s jaw dropped as he scrolled through the multitude of new information, “This is… This is…” He looked up at Damian with wide eyes, “This is her?”
“All her.”
Dick passed the phone back with a sigh, “Alright, I get it.” He glanced aside at Amira and crossed his arms, “I still think this is dangerous. As proved by tonight.”
Damian huffed, irritated at the observation but knowing it wasn’t incorrect.
“We know,” He ground out, “We think it’s worth the risk.”
“You don’t look like you agree,” Dick noted on reading his expression. Damian shifted his feet.
“I… don’t like putting her in danger,” He admitted, this was exactly the point he and Amira had discussed before going out. “But I cannot deny how invaluable she has been.”
Dick blinked at him, “Wow, okay.”
“You cannot tell father, Grayson.” They both knew Bruce would put an end to this immediately, and then Amira’s ability to gain more information to help their efforts would be lost.
“Fine, fine,” Dick put his hands out placatingly, “But in exchange, you give me those lists, and I can look into things from our end too.”
“Very well,” Damian was willing to make the deal. He would rather not be dragging Amira through the more dangerous pursuits anyway. “The information goes to you so the others can look into it. But you don’t interfere with our investigations.” Dick still looked unsure, so Damian continued, “Amira and I agreed on criteria. We only go to warehouses that have already been cleared so there’s minimal danger.”
Dick’s eyes narrowed, “So what happened tonight?” He challenged.
Damian made a noise of irritation; he’d like to know as well.
“I don’t know why they came back there,” He growled, “It doesn’t make sense.” He paused as he looked back to Amira, head whirling. “Unless…” He tapped a finger against his chin in thought, “Unless there is something there that we all missed, and they’re coming back for it.”
Dick was nodding slowly in agreement as he followed Damian’s thoughts, “I’ll look into it.” On seeing Damian’s warning glare, he rolled his eyes, “And keep the tip off to myself. You can trust me, Little D. As for what to do with her…”
They both went back to staring at Amira, utterly clueless.
“Try wait it out,” Dick said at last. Damian looked aside at him with a grimace and Dick just shrugged, looking as perplexed as he felt. “It’s happened before, right? Maybe it just needs time.”
Damian wasn’t convinced at all by that, Dick obviously saw as much because he patted his shoulder awkwardly.
“I’ll go check out that warehouse,” He said, “I’ll come by in a few more hours.” Dick paused just before he turned away to leave, a grin flashing across his face.
“And Dami… You owe me.”
Hours passed.
Damian ended up sitting on the edge of the bed to watch over Amira. Initially, her breaths were deep and regular, and she spoke with good strength despite the rasping lilt to her voice. But as time passed, her eyelids fluttered a little further down, and her breaths grew shorter and more ragged between the words that never stopped. Her voice grew more hoarse, and therefore quieter, but she didn’t let up once.
He did his best not to listen to the words she spoke, and ended up kicking his legs up onto the bed and reading next to her in order to occupy his mind as he waited for something to change.
But many hours later nothing had. And Damian felt his eyes starting to grow heavy. He put the book down and crossed his arms, glaring at the wall opposite him. He needed something more to keep his mind busy.
Almost without his permission, his eyes closed, and he was soon fading into sleep.
“Well well well.”
A voice humming with amusement jerked Damian out of sleep to see Dick standing at the end of the bed with crossed arms and a large grin. Sunlight was starting to light the room, and Damian realised the entire night had now slipped away.
“Sleeping with your charge, Dami?” Dick tutted playfully, “Not your greatest moment.”
“Shut up, Grayson,” Damian muttered even as his cheeks flushed. He threw his legs back over the side of the bed and stood, “You know it’s not like that.”
The grin quickly faded as Dick looked Amira over, “No change then?”
Damian sighed and rubbed his face, “I think physically it’s tiring her body and mind out but… no, no change.” He was getting more worried by the minute as Amira obviously tired, but Dick had been right. There wasn’t much he could do except wait it out. He turned his attention back to Dick.
“Anything in the warehouse?”
“Yes actually,” Dick raised an eyebrow, “A massive fucking hole in the ground.”
“What?”
“Yeah, something was buried under the floorboards,” Dick reported, a flicker of annoyance in his voice. Clearly, he was as frustrated as Damian suddenly was that they’d all somehow overlooked it. “A big crate of some kind by the looks of it.”
Damian’s hands curled into irritated fists, “So they got it, then?”
“Yeah, they did.” Dick’s gaze kept moving back to Amira, looking concerned, “It’s been eight hours already. How long did you say this lasted previously?”
“I didn’t.”
“Hmm, I can’t imagine being like this is particularly good for her,” Dick murmured, “You still don’t want to call Z?”
“No.” But the answer was less sure that it had been eight hours earlier.
“Then what do you want to do?” Dick asked.
Damian was at a loss. He didn’t know what to do, or what could even be done. He still really didn’t want to call Zatanna, because it would immediately tank all the good work they’d risked Amira’s safety for so far.
But as he hesitated, Ryuu uncurled from the foot of the bed and padded over Amira’s limp body towards Damian. A small, wet nose touched to his glove, then turned to press briefly against Amira’s forehead. With that, Ryuu sat back at Amira’s side and stared at Damian calmly.
“You want me to – “ He cut himself off, staring between the familiar and Amira with dawning realisation. He took a large step back, “No, no.”
At his side, Dick was looking thoughtful, “Skin to skin, huh?” He had clearly worked it out as well, “I guess forcing another vision might short circuit the current loop.”
Damian was shaking his head, “I’m not doing it.” He said firmly.
Amira had explained over dinner one day that she received glimpses of the future in dreams or when she meditated, and could even pull visions of the past from places or objects if it was significant enough – as she had shown in the warehouses. She had described these visions as vague and changing, and not often person specific.
But Amira had then explained that any time she had touched someone skin to skin it was different – she tended to see what was a future most significant to that person at the time.
There were so many problems with Amira seeing his future.
First of all, that she would no doubt recognise him as Damian Wayne. With prior knowledge of Dick’s identity, it wouldn’t take much effort at all to realise the family link. It would not only expose Damian’s identity, but put the entire wider family at risk.
Secondly, Damian did not want to know his future.
During his time with the League of Assassins, he had thought his future was going to be as a conqueror shaping the world into something better, something in his own image. As Robin, he no longer knew what was ahead of him. All he knew was what he was now, he had no idea where it was going to take him, or what ghosts from his past might rise to try and drag him back to the cold and uncaring assassin he had previously been.
It wasn’t fear that tensed his shoulders now, definitely not. More of a… concern that Damian wasn’t sure what would happen if his past did come knocking. Who would he be? He had already met a version of his future in Heretic. Would it matter what he did? Would he end up like that no matter what?
Damian didn’t want to know. He couldn’t.
Dick was watching his reaction carefully, and sympathy softened his expression.
“It’s your decision Dami.”
“Why don’t you do it?” Damian demanded, shaking the thoughts off, “She already knows your identity.”
Dick startled, and his tone turned dangerous, “She what?”
“The vision she had of you and Kori’s child,” Damian explained unapologetically, “She saw you as Dick Grayson.”
It took a while for the anger to work its way from Dick’s expression. But he eventually blew out a heavy breath, and when he spoke again, his tone was tense but pensive.
“I… did wonder. I assumed it hadn’t been the case when you didn’t say anything.” He flicked a sharp look Damian’s way, “I guess she can be trusted then, if she hasn’t tried to out my identity to everyone.”
“She hasn’t had the chance,” Damian muttered. “She’s smart. If she figures out both of our identities, it won’t take much to implicate the wider family.”
Dick sighed and rubbed at his forehead, “I think this needs to be up to you, Damian. Your charge, your decision.” He looked at him with more sympathy now. “For what it’s worth, I understand the seriousness of the decision, but take into account how much time you’ve spent with Amira now. You, more than anyone, will know her best.”
With those parting words, Dick left, and Damian was left starting at the limp body of the woman he had been charged to protect.
More hours passed as Damian struggled with what to do.
Through it all, Amira weakened. Her glowing eyes were now barely open, and they fluttered often as if struggling to stay that way. Her voice was so overused that it had devolved into broken whispers, and she was having to take ragged breaths in between every couple of words. She didn’t look well, Damian had to admit, and it made him pace anxiously across the small room.
Did he try and wait it out? Or did he finally, finally, dare touch Amira’s bare skin with his own?
Ryuu sat next to her throughout; its unwavering amber gaze turned towards Damian. Whether it was a stare or a glare, Damian wasn’t quite sure, but he felt the pressure of the familiar’s expectation of him all the same.
Why don’t you just do it? The gaze seemed to demand.
Well, it wasn’t that simple, Damian silently argued back. There was so much risk to it. He had a responsibility to protecting Amira, and now he knew how to get her out of this strange in between of reality. But he also had a responsibility to his family, and risking all of their identities for one person seemed wrong. Not to mention there was still the chance Amira could come out of this on her own.
His mind and logic pulled him towards his family, but the sight of an ever-weakening Amira tugged at something else inside him and urged him to just take a damn glove off already.
Finally, at thirteen hours in, something changed.
Amira had a seizure.
It was short, lasting only a few seconds before her body stilled again, but Damian was immediately alert. Pushing a gloved finger to her pulse, he was relieved to find it strong and steady, but her breathing was far more ragged than before.
On the other side of the bed, Ryuu was now pacing up and down and yowling, clearly agitated. Looking down, Damian noted one of Amira’s arms was moving. Not moving – jerking. A rhythmic, constant movement that had his heart stuttering as he recognised what it meant.
She was still seizing.
After so much time stuck in the same vision between realities, seeing and being forced to speak the same vision again and again, it was now becoming overwhelming for her brain to the point it was causing seizures.
Just like that, Damian’s mind was made up. And maybe, if he was really, really lucky, Amira might not have a vision with his identity uncovered in it.
Almost in a trance, he pulled off one of his gloves to bare a hand, but his gaze was already trained on Amira’s face. He was about to touch her, actually touch her. Damian looked over the soft, golden features that were drawn into an expression of vague distress, and when he finally reached out to press his open palm to her cheek, his touch was nothing less than a caress.
It was everything he had imagined; and yet far surpassed the best his mind had to offer.
It was like touching silk. Desperately soft, amazingly warm despite the slight chill to the air. Damian couldn’t help but smooth a thumb up and over Amira’s cheekbone, then drag his hand softly down to her jaw to cup it. Should he brush a knuckle over her lips? Would they part slightly if he did?
But as soon as his skin touched hers, Amira’s eyes snapped open with a loud, strangled gasp, and her body went rigid. For a long moment, but also no time at all, the swirling depths of her eyes stared into Damian’s as if she saw straight through the lenses of his mask.
And then her eyes closed fully and she sunk back into the pillows again as she let out a long breath. She was unconscious again, but this time at least her breaths were slow and regular and she was no longer trying to speak barely formed words.
Damian drew his hand quickly back as his concern spiked. Had he held her too long? Had it even worked or was she still trapped?
“Amira?”
He called her name, but there was no answer. Trying harder to wake her as his stomach dropped, Damian gripped a shoulder tightly and shook her.
“Amira!”
This time, her eyes fluttered open. And this time the eyes that looked up at him were the familiar pale blue, despite how glazed they were. For a moment, Amira seemed to focus in on him, and then her eyes closed again as one lone word passed her lips: a name.
“Damian.”
He let her slump into the pillows this time and stared at her still body, this time merely sleeping.
Fuck.
Chapter 14: Family Business
Notes:
Thank you all so much for the amazing response to the last chapter!! This one is a bit of a longer one, but I think it needs to be to talk through such a revelation!:))
I hope all your days are fantastic
<3
Chapter Text
AMIRA
It was a struggle to force your way up through sleep and into alertness once more. You turned onto your back with a groan and rubbed at your eyes, it wasn’t usually so hard to wake up.
As you blinked up at the ceiling above you, a dark shape to one side caught your attention, and you turned your head to see Robin sitting in a chair next to the bed in full armour, cape and mask. The full costume struck you as strange, given recently he had taken to wearing casual clothes around the apartment, so this was a change from the new normal. He sat with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped to rest in front of his mouth, and watched you silently.
You stared at him, and only after a full minute of studying him were you finally convinced he wasn’t a figment of your imagination.
“How long have you been sitting there?” Your question was a bit hoarse, and you were surprised to note your throat was sore.
Robin didn’t move a muscle, and his tone as he answered was without inflection, “A while.”
You stared at him a little longer, baffled as to why he had sat himself next to the bed to watch you sleep.
“Are you okay?” You asked hesitantly.
The usual frown on Robin’s face deepened, “Are you?”
More confused by the second, you took stock of your body. Apart from your sore throat and still feeling pretty tired, you felt fine.
“I feel alright, a bit hazy maybe…” You trailed off, finally noting the slight flicker of concern in the expression across from you, clearly there was more to this. “What happened?”
Your question was deflected, “What do you remember?”
Clearly, Robin was going to make you work this one out yourself instead of just telling you what brought him to your bedside to watch you sleep. Sighing, you pushed yourself up in the bed so you sat against the headboard as you thought.
“I remember breaking into the building. I remember getting scared by the pigeons,” A small laugh escaped you before you carried on, “Then I settled down to meditate,” You frowned as you suddenly seemed to have to fight through a cloud over your memories, “I don’t really remember the meditation at all. Not until – oh.”
The realisation hit you like a train, as the vague recollection of a name resounded through your heavily clouded memory. You whipped around to stare at Robin, who was suddenly rigid where he sat.
“You’re Damian Wayne.”
The words were whispered to the air, as if testing them. But you saw the man before you tense even further as your stunned realisation hung in the room between you.
Robin – no, Damian – stayed still for a long moment. When he finally shifted, you had to stifle a gasp when you saw his hands were coming up to the sides of his mask. With a series of small clicks, it was detached, and then Damian Wayne looked back up at you, maskless for the first time.
He was devastatingly handsome; the strong, angular features that had been partially hidden by his mask now had pride of place. Jet black hair and strong brows outlined his face, and made the brilliant, vibrant emerald of his eyes even more vivid. Even with the white lenses of his mask you had found his expression intense, but without it, you saw the depth of the perceptive intelligence in his sharp eyes, and you felt stripped bare under a single look.
You had to swallow to try and distract yourself from the way your body was coming alive under his gaze, and words passed your lips before you had thought them through fully.
“You have green eyes.”
Damian’s brows drew into a frown and he looked slightly confused, as if the observation hadn’t been what he expected you to say. As you stared at him, you almost couldn’t believe just how ridiculously good looking the vigilante – the son of Batman – was.
Suddenly, you were laughing, slightly hysterical chuckles bubbling up from inside.
“That is so unfair!”
The confusion on the face across from yours increased, “I’m sorry?”
“You!” You threw your hands up in an agitated gesture that had Damian giving you a strange look, as if he was worried you were having a mental break. “You’re good at literally everything! A superhero, a detective, you’re gorgeous, and now you’re rich too?”
You jabbed an accusing finger his way as Damian blinked at you, clearly stunned at your outburst and not sure whether he should be offended. But it was unfair, the man sitting across from you was nothing less than incredible. It all just made him far too attractive, too interesting, too damn alluring.
You were so screwed.
“And famous!” You added on with some irritation, “I mean, everyone knows the Wayne family is – “
Suddenly, you broke off as a second realisation hit you, “Holy shit.” You turned to stare more directly at Damian as you recalled a link you had made prior. “Holy shit, Bruce Wayne is your dad. Bruce Wayne is Batman.”
You almost wouldn’t have believed it if you hadn’t been so sure, and if the slight hardening to Damian’s gaze didn’t give away the answer.
“So… So, you, Dick and Bruce are all vigilantes…” Your mind was now going a million miles an hour, “What about the rest of your family? You’ve got more brothers right? Who’s the one that always looks like he needs at least three days of sleep that runs the Wayne Industries accounts?”
“Timothy,” Damian’s reply was wooden.
“Let me guess, Red Robin?” You looked down to the sheets you were twisting in your gloved hands as more realisations tumbled through, “And… wasn’t there a ward who died? So that’s Red Hood, probably the most obvious one…”
His voice was quieter this time as he answered, sounding resigned, “Jason.”
“And you have sisters too… Oh my gods, so Spoiler must be Stephanie and Orphan is Cassandra?” Damian just gave you a tired look, and it was all the confirmation you needed.
You finally sank back into the pillows behind you, head spinning with the new names and faces that you could now put to the vigilantes you had met.
“Holy shit.”
Damian also sat back and he crossed his arms, “I admit, you worked it out faster than even I expected.” He sounded tired.
You glanced at him in surprise, “Yeah?”
A small nod was sent your way, “I told Dick you would.”
Was there a slight glimmer of pride in the eyes looking back at you? It was quickly hidden behind a more serious and sinister expression as he sat forward and his features twisted into a snarl.
“I must warn you, if you expose my or my family’s identities, there will be severe consequences.”
No doubt the dangerous look on Damian’s face would cause most to feel both terrified and intimidated, but you found yourself immune. The man currently threatening you could make your morning coffee better than you could, and for whatever reason, that dulled his threat substantially. Perhaps you knew that you would never have reason to worry, or maybe you knew the person behind the harsh words well enough now that you didn’t believe he would ever hurt you.
“I understand,” You agreed easily, “But I hope you know I would never do that, Damian.”
At the use of his name he stiffened, but you were merely absurdly pleased that you were finally able to use it. A second, miniscule nod agreed with your words, and you let yourself relax more fully into the cushions behind you.
“So what actually happened?” You asked more conversationally.
Damian sighed and settled further into his chair before he replied, “The Grey Hawks came back to the warehouse – “
“What? Why?” You were stunned enough that you interrupted him immediately, but on seeing the irritated glance your way you quickly blushed and waved him on, “Sorry, continue.”
“They came back to the warehouse after a cargo shipment hidden underground,” He explained tersely, “You were still deep in meditation, I had to interrupt you.”
That explained the fogginess to your memory: you had been stuck in a vision and trapped between realities. You stared around yourself now, it was early morning, with soft light filtering through the half open curtains. It was a relief to see that only the rest of the night had passed you by.
“I guess I wasn’t out for as long as last time then.”
An eyebrow arched at your words.
“It’s two days later.”
You stared at Damian in shock.
“Two days?” You were stunned, “Did I not wake up?
He frowned at you, “No, you started to have seizures.”
“That’s new,” You murmured, confused. “Then what – oh.”
Suddenly, multiple things made sense. You had been trapped between realities for almost two days. Damian’s name hadn’t been plucked from a random vision; he’d had to force one to get you out of it. He had touched you, skin to skin.
You looked down at your hands to see you still had your gloves on. Had he taken one off just to put it back on? Or had he reached out to touch your face? The thought was strangely intimate, and you ducked your head further, hoping your hair might hide your burning cheeks.
You had to admit, you were disappointed you hadn’t been awake for it. You didn’t think you had ever actually been touched by someone you wanted to be touched by. The thought of Damian’s hand brushing against your skin made you tingle and your breath hitch. Swallowing back the feelings that were causing even more heat to rise to your cheeks, you sobered when you realised the sacrifice Damian had made in order to get you out of that cycle.
He had been clear in his previous statements that he did not want to touch you, and he did not want his future read. But he had chosen to overcome his aversion and absolute rule not for you to see his future, to help you.
You turned back to him with chest suddenly tight, “Thank you.”
Damian merely shrugged and looked away, as uncomfortable as ever with gratitude. You changed the subject quickly.
“How long since you’ve slept?”
He looked back to you, face carefully blank, “A while.”
You grimaced, knowing that meant it had been many hours. You really hoped he hadn’t been awake the entire two days you had been out for.
“Do you want breakfast or just sleep?”
A heavy sigh betrayed his exhaustion. “Sleep.”
“Okay,” Pulling yourself to the edge of the bed, you stood carefully to make sure your balance was alright. On finding yourself physically tired but otherwise okay, you crossed to the door, hoping a quick exit would encourage Damian to get straight into bed. But you paused in the doorway, bracing one hand on the frame as you looked back.
“Damian?”
He startled again as you spoke his name, and looked up at you to see your expression warm and open and honest, “Thank you, really.”
You exited before he could become uncomfortable again and wandered out into the lounge.
A large shape lay by the door. On your entrance it stood and stretched, and the large black panther slowly shifted down to a kitten as it padded your way, purring loudly.
Seer is well. Ryuu wound its way around your legs in greeting. You crouched and reached out to scratch your familiar’s head.
“Sorry for the scare.”
The Robin took a long time to decide to save you.
You arched a brow, surprised at the wording, “Save me?”
Seer’s mind was starting to break. The Robin saw this at last and stepped in. We were concerned he would not do so.
Yeah, seizures were not a good sign. You knew your powers had grown and you had become more skilled at using them since you were a child, it seemed with that came increased danger if they got out of hand. So you really did owe Damian. Again, he had likely saved your life.
“But he did.”
Against his instincts, Ryuu confirmed. The Robin cares for Seer.
Another blush rose to your cheeks as pleasure vied with doubt. “I’m not sure. He was pretty quick to threaten me in there.”
Robin has only known a life of violence. He would have to be shown how to live any other way.
You fell silent as you thought that through. It was sad to think that Damian’s whole life had been fighting, surely he must know something of love and care growing up alongside a family as large as the Wayne’s? Ryuu watched you just as silently, before suddenly adding something that made you freeze.
We have met the Robin before.
You stared at your familiar in shock, “What?”
Before coming to Gotham, when we spent time with the League of Assassins. Ryuu was bonded to some of the soldiers but kept to the shadows. The Robin was present.
“Damian was in the League of Assassins?”
You had heard of the League of Assassins before from Ryuu. Your familiar had even told you of the Lazarus pits and the fearsome Ra’s al Ghul that had led them. It didn’t sound like a pleasant place, far from it, and you were stunned to hear that Damian had been a part of it.
“What was he doing there?” You asked. Amber eyes stayed settled on you unflinchingly.
I will leave it to the Robin to air the rest of his secrets.
“I guess that’s fair,” You muttered, “Did you ever meet him?”
Ryuu met none of them, even our bonded ones were unaware of our presence until their death. The small black kitten blinked once, the only giveaway of how serious it suddenly was. The Robin grew up in a place of violence and hate. Do not expect him to be familiar with lighter things.
You nodded listlessly as you thought hard over Ryuu’s words. Everything you had heard of the League was of how violent, relentless, and coldly calculated they were in their pursuits. You had to admit, you could see their influence in Damian even now. But he was so much more than that. There was a muted kindness behind the anger and unflinching determination, and you wondered if that part of him stemmed from the Wayne family. Perhaps being a part of the vigilantes running around Gotham had been good for him.
“How long have you known it was him?”
Ryuu just looked at you, and this time the gaze held mild amusement. You huffed slightly and shook your head at it, no doubt it had been since day one. But for once, your familiar was being surprisingly chatty, and your attention sharpened in when it changed the subject again.
A prophecy was said many times before Seer lost her voice.
“A prophecy?”
That startled you, because it had been a very, very long time since you’d had one of those. Pausing to rake through what memory you could decipher through the fog, you recalled vague flashes of silhouettes standing over a sprawling, glittering city. You couldn’t recall any features, but had a vague impression of power, danger, and a looming decision in the far future.
Interesting that there had been a prophecy spoken with this, as you didn’t recall any words whatsoever.
“I don’t remember.”
Then perhaps Seer will remember when the time is right.
You hummed in hesitant agreement and stood at last to fix yourself a coffee and some cereal, mind whirling as you did so. As you sat down at the kitchen table, your mind flashed back to when you were a much younger girl living in a dilapidated orphanage in Egypt.
Amira wanted her toy back. The small stuffed camel was the only possession she had except the dirty prayer rug she had been given years ago. She had waited many hours for the Matron to be out so she could sneak into her small office to look for the confiscated toy. Creeping into the room, Amira closed the door silently behind her and looked around. She spied a big desk and skipped happily over to it to begin rifling through the drawers.
There were lots of papers in the desk, and an old and well-worn Qur’an tumbled out as Amira tried to move some of it aside. She winced as it thudded to the ground and was quick to pick it up.
But as she did so, another piece of paper fell from the book. It was heavily folded and tattered, as if it had been taken out and looked over often. Amira was curious, so she opened the paper and recognised the handwriting of the Matron.
I should have long thrown the Witch into the Nile to fare for itself,
But her words echo in my head,
Just as her strange glowing eyes haunt my nightmares.
“The touch of Thoth.
The sight of Meskhenet’s design.
She is the living judgment of Anubis.
Protect the child of death, for the Old Gods watch and await her destiny.”
I cannot imagine the full extent of such words, but I do not dare anger the Old Gods.
May Amun-Ra protect me while the Witch resides here.
May the Goddess Shay take her from me.
Amira read the words again and again, so many times she committed them to memory. She had been called a witch enough times to know this was about her. But what did it mean?
A sound from far away reminded her of where she was, and she was quick to stuff the paper back into the Qur’an and shove everything back into the desk drawer. Amira left quickly, careful to leave everything as she found it.
She thought about the Matron’s written words all night. But they were quickly forgotten in the excitement of being adopted the next day. She had high hopes and promises of a new land, a new start, with people who might love her.
You sighed as your mind returned to the present, and you took another sip of coffee. You never did get your stuffed camel back.
Agonising over those words had been a large part of your time in Gotham. Your younger self had struggled to reason how being looked after by the Gods ended with being abandoned to freeze and starve on the streets. As you aged, and with research and your own knowledge of the ancient Egyptian Gods, you felt you now had a grasp on what the words hinted at.
Thoth was often portrayed as the God of Scribes, but he was also the God of magic. There was no doubt a lot of your power stemmed from a metaphysical source.
Meskhenet was the Goddess who breathed life into a child and gave them their path in life. You figured that line was down to your ability to see into the future, to have glimpses of her ‘design’.
Anubis was perhaps the most well-known God of the three; a God of Death. He was essential to the afterlife, and the judgement of the dead that chose where one would end up. Both things your powers were well versed in.
The letter from the Matron held the only prophecy you had ever previously spoken. And while you felt uneasy at the hinted origin of your powers could be from the Gods of Ancient Egypt themselves, your spoken words had clearly saved your life. It had finally made sense to you why a small child with abilities like that had been allowed to stay at the orphanage at all.
You wished you could remember the words you had spoken this time. You wondered if it even mattered, perhaps Ryuu was right and you would remember in time. It did make you nervous though, that the last time you had recalled a prophecy was directly before a massive uproot to your life. Hopefully, this would not be a reoccurring theme.
You couldn’t concentrate on your morning crosswords at all, and instead ended up planning and making a long, complicated meal for dinner throughout the day to take your mind off it.
Eventually, Damian reappeared from the bedroom, and you were entirely taken aback by his appearance as he walked out into the lounge.
Obviously, it made sense that he didn’t have to wear his uniform or mask anymore, so having him come out in full civilian attire really shouldn’t have been a shock. But the sight of the Robin you knew now as Damian, in a black turtleneck and pants that were simple but expensive, he looked suddenly very normal.
You felt your lower stomach clench, and you cursed your body for the physical reactions you couldn’t help to his appearance. You knew you wanted him, and you wanted him bad. But he had made his thoughts on touching you clear. Having him touch your skin one singular time didn’t change things, especially when he had been all but forced to. And that was without the complication that you couldn’t touch anyone’s skin without seeing their future.
Maybe, you just weren’t meant to ever be with anyone.
“Hey.”
You tried to keep your tone light as you put down a large baking dish on the bench and pulled your prepared ingredients closer. Damian looked tense, and you understood the unmasking of his identity was a big deal for him. You wanted to put him at ease, so kept your conversation unremarkable.
“We’ve got vege Dolma and Umm Ali for dinner tonight.”
Damian frowned, for once unfamiliar with the dish, “Umm Ali?”
“Bread pudding. Pastry, sugar, milk, nuts, coconut…”
“Is that what you’re making now?”
He was sniffing subtly as he asked. What he smelt was the Dolma that had almost finished cooking in the pot on the stove. But what you were making was the Umm Ali, a favourite dessert of yours.
“Yep.”
Damian sidled up a little closer to look over your shoulder with the familiar curiosity on his face. Only now, you could also see the emotion brighten the deep green of his eyes.
You smiled up at him, “Want to help? It won’t take long.”
At his small nod, you moved aside and pushed the tray a little closer to him.
“At the moment I’m doing layers of torn puff pastry, with sprinkles of nuts and raisins between.”
Damian quickly picked up what you showed him, and tore the homemade pastry into large, ragged segments to lay down before you sprinkled the nuts and raisins over it. You repeated this a few times until the pastry was all gone. You pointed at a bowl off to one side.
“Now pour the milk mixture over it.”
He did so carefully, to not cause the mixture to splash.
“And now we top with everything else except the raisins,” You smiled as you pushed the ingredients closer to Damian, pleased he was so willing to help and learn, “They go in right at the end.”
He started sprinkling the coconut over the top as he glanced aside at you, “Why?”
“They burn,” You said with a grimace.
Damian raised an eyebrow, “That’s a look of experience.”
You laughed, “Yeah, Winston was not happy when I made it for the first time in years and we had little lumps of charcoal on top.”
The smallest hint of a smile crossed Damian’s face. Finally being able to see the way the expression caused a slight crinkle around his eyes stole your breath, and you had to turn back to the food as you swallowed hard and silently begged your body to calm down.
The dish was quickly finished and put into the oven, and by then the dolma was ready. You plated it and soon you were both digging in at the table. You were pleased to see the tenseness had long since left the strong shoulders across from you.
There was so much you wanted to ask him, perhaps now that his identity was no longer a concern, Damian might be more willing to be open with his answers. You decided to take the plunge.
“Damian,” Again, you noted a reaction as you spoke his name. This time, it seemed his breath caught on hearing your voice. “Can I ask you something?”
The green eyes narrowed, the expression immediately suspicious. “That depends.”
You held back your wince on seeing it, but forged ahead, “What made you want to become Robin?”
His expression worked through a myriad of emotions that were a whole lot easier to try and read with his mask off; surprise, discomfort, wariness… But at last, he seemed to relax.
“I suppose I don’t have as much to hide anymore,” He mused as he picked up another dolma to study it intently.
“You still don’t have to answer,” Your voice was quiet. As interested as you were, you didn’t want to force him to talk about something he didn’t want to. “I was just curious.”
Damian took a few mouthfuls as he stared down at his plate, and he considered for a long time. At last he spoke, and his tone was relaxed and measured, having clearly come to a decision.
“You have always been very open and honest with me” Damian said, “Perhaps to your detriment.”
You frowned, “What does that mean?”
He looked up to meet your gaze now, “Most of what you told me about your powers and abilities I passed straight on to my father and the others.”
His admission was said matter-of-factly, as if uncaring as to your reaction. But his expression held a twinge that suggested that may not be the case. You nodded, finding you couldn’t fault him in any case.
“I guess that was to be expected.”
Now it was Damian’s turn to frown, looking confused, “You’re not angry?”
“Angry?” You echoed, then shook your head, “Damian, I’m very aware how much of an unknown quantity I was to you all, especially at the start.” You snorted lightly, “If anything, I’m more surprised you let me get away with not telling you everything that first night.”
Damian raised his brows, “I did consider not leaving without the knowledge.”
You wrinkled your nose at him, “I know.”
His expression… softened, for lack of a better description, and you recognised it as the moment he decided to really trust you.
“Robin was passed onto me when I first came to my father, from the League of Assassins.” Damian hesitated as he finally answered, and you felt a thrill that he was being immediately so open about his past, “I was… not very used to being a hero, or withholding my instinct to kill – “
He looked suddenly up at you, clearly worried he had said too much already. You kept your expression gently encouraging and took another mouthful of dolma. You weren’t worried that Damian had used to kill people, you knew he didn’t now. And you had never been one to look down on Ryuu for his more deadly tendencies, your opinion of Damian wouldn’t change a bit.
On seeing your steady gaze, he slowly continued.
“It took a while for me to want to be Robin, to want to live up to everything the title meant. But now that I am…” He shrugged, “I can’t imagine any different.”
You tilted your head, “Were all your brothers Robin before you? Will you keep the title?”
“And Stephanie,” Damian corrected absentmindedly. “I’m not sure. When father… retires, it’ll be up to one of us to put on the mask.”
“And become Batman?”
“Yes.”
“That sounds like a big responsibility,” You mused as you watched Damian carefully, noting he had tensed again. You wondered if, as his biological son, it was expected that he would take it on. “Would you want it?”
“Want is a strong word. I –“ Damian was uncharacteristically struggling for words. “Batman is nothing less than a living legend. How could anyone live up to such a title? But… none of the others want it. Not even Dick, who’s been Batman before for a short time.”
You stared at the man who sat across from you, and almost as if his words had unblocked the memory, a glimmer of a previous vision came back to you. It could only have been from when Damian had touched you, for he was the star.
Perched high above the Gotham City lights, Batman had turned towards you. But this Batman was different to the one you knew and wore a long thick overcoat with a katana strapped to his side. On seeing you walk towards him, he stood and pulled his cowl back and off.
An older version of Damian stared back at you. He smiled.
Stifling a gasp, you wrenched out of the memory and blinked across at Damian. The younger man frowning at the table, looking so unsure of himself now, was one day going to be the protector of not only Gotham, but the world.
You swallowed back the realisation, the choking understanding that one of the most important figures in the world sat before you now. This must be why fate had pulled you to Damian’s side. With the understanding of everything he would be, he was now yours to protect until he could reach such a destiny.
You couldn’t say as much to the man before you. But maybe you could at least try to reassure him.
“For what it’s worth,” Damian looked up as you spoke to see you looking at him with warmth, but clear seriousness, “I think you would do a very good job.”
There was a long blink, and a heavy swallow, but Damian didn’t otherwise to react to your words, instead choosing to ask a question of his own.
“What about you?”
“Huh?” You weren’t ready for the sudden turn of conversation, “What about me?”
“Have you ever wanted to be more?” Damian clarified.
You sighed and sat back, pushing your now empty plate away from you.
“I just want to live, Damian. To be able to travel where I want, eat what I feel like, buy clothes that I won’t wear…” You crossed your arms and looked away, knowing admitting this was making you vulnerable to him in a way you hadn’t been before. “A home would be nice,” You said quietly, “Somewhere I can come back to at the end of each day and know it is mine.”
He sat quietly and watched you long enough that you started to squirm.
“For what it’s worth,” Damian spoke slowly, and echoed your words from before, “You won’t be left out on the streets after this is all over, Amira. I’ll make sure of it.”
You looked up in surprise at his words.
“I don’t need charity,” Your tone was sharper than intended. While you knew you had it rough and had nothing to go back to, it still wounded your pride to be seen as helpless.
Damian’s gaze was steady, holding nothing but quiet determination.
“Then consider it payment for your help,” He said firmly. “With extra for hazard pay.”
You narrowed your eyes his way, and it was met by a much more impressive mirroring from Damian.
“You’re not going to give me the option, are you?”
“No.”
You sighed and rolled your eyes at him, “You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”
To your surprise, Damian’s expression suddenly darkened, and the openness you had seen tonight closed off to something more hostile and blank. The sudden return to what you had used to see from him when you first met him was startling.
“So I’ve been told,” His voice was harsh, and he looked away from you to start gathering the empty dishes on the table.
Your stomach had dropped, realising that you had inadvertently said something that had clearly been used against him in the past. You quickly tried to backtrack.
“Damian, I didn’t…”
You trailed off as he stood and took the dishes up to the kitchen. He ignored you as he started to run the water and poured some suds into the sink.
“Damian,” You tried to get his attention, but he continued to keep his back to you. You tried again, more firmly, “Can you please at least look at me?”
He turned at last, and you almost flinched on seeing his crossed arms and carefully blank expression. He had locked you out.
“Stubbornness isn’t a negative trait,” You pointed out, “It can also be strong-willed, steadfast, tenacious.”
“Was it in your crossword this morning or something?” His words were acerbic.
“Damian,” You couldn’t help your admonishing tone. “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t have a single negative thing to say about you. I think you’re pretty incredible actually,” You could feel yourself beginning to blush, but you kept your gaze steady on the green brilliance before you as you continued, “Please don’t ever mistake my teasing for genuine reproach, because I have nothing but the utmost respect and admiration for you.”
He glared at you, “Laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?”
“I’ve never been anything but honest with you,” You kept your patience. “You said so yourself.”
Damian looked you over and at last let out a short huff as he clenched and flexed a fist.
“I apologise,” He ground out at last, “I – I know you weren’t meaning it negatively.”
You couldn’t help but wonder if talking about his father and the unspoken expectation that Damian would step into his shoes and take up the mantle of the Batman had caused him to feel insecure. You nodded in acceptance of his apology and decided to move the conversation on.
“What do you mean Dick was Batman?”
Damian turned back to do the dishes as he answered.
“Bruce went missing, someone needed to step up.”
While he wasn’t quite as stiff as before, the vulnerability from earlier had gone and his answer was short and factual. You decided to ask some easier questions.
“Does Superboy know your identity too?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know his?”
“Yes.”
You wandered over to the couch as you spoke, sinking down into it and kicking your feet up, deliberately staying conversational and causal, “Are you like family friends or something? Because Batman always seems to be working with Superman.”
Damian nodded, “You could say that.”
“Is it really true that a starfish from space tried to take over the world?” You now asked with more than a little bewilderment. “Because I really struggled with that one.”
At last, a reaction beyond careful blankness, as Damian snorted. “I could tell.”
Slowly, with conversation, Damian relaxed again. Eventually he joined you on the couch, settling next to your feet, which you shuffled aside for him. You decided to chance some deeper questions again.
“Earlier you said, ‘when you first came to your father’,” You began slowly, “Were you not always with him?”
To your relief, Damian didn’t hesitate to answer and shook his head.
“Bruce didn’t know I existed for my first ten years. I lived with my mother until then.”
You stared at him, realising that this was the time he must have been with the League, and trying to imagine what sort of mother might leave their ten-year-old son at such an age.
“What’s she like?”
“Cold.” You simply stared and waited for more. To your excitement, Damian sighed at the look of avid curiosity on your face and got more comfortable on the couch, pulling a leg up and leaning his head on a propped-up fist. “I grew up with the League of Assassins. I was meant to be their heir,” He admitted, “The League was attacked and mother sent me to my father for protection. She didn’t expect how much it would change me, or that I might choose to stay with him.”
You tried to temper the surprise and sympathy in your expression, knowing Damian wouldn’t appreciate it. The heir of the League of Assassins sat before you. That meant not only was he related to the legend that was Bruce Wayne, but also the far more infamous and terrifying Ra’s al Ghul. You couldn’t even imagine how difficult living under those shadows must be, or how hard he had worked to not only survive his childhood in the League, but forge a name for himself now as an adult in Gotham.
You swallowed, entirely unsure how to respond to that, “That must have been hard.”
But Damian shrugged nonchalantly, “Mother still tries to end the world, or the Wayne’s, to entice me back at least once a year.”
“Wow,” You blinked at him, before teasing gently, “Maybe it is better not to have family.”
Damian sent you an exasperated look which quickly melted into curiosity of his own.
“You really don’t have any idea who your parents are?”
“Nope,” Your lips popped with the word, “There wasn’t a single mention of them in the orphanages files.”
“And how do you know that?” He asked dryly.
You sent him a cheeky grin, “I checked.” But your grin quickly faded, “Maybe it’s for the best. Who knows, maybe I was birthed by drug dealers, or people even worse off than I was, or maybe even by foreigners – based on my eyes.” You mused at the end.
Damian sent you a sly look.
“Or a zombie, based on your powers.”
“Hey!”
You grabbed a cushion and threw it at him, laughing. Damian snatched it effortlessly out of the air and chuckled as well. Your grin grew, heart soaring as you heard the quiet, understated laugh. Because it was a laugh. From Damian.
A sudden ringing from Damian’s pocket attracted both of your attention. He grabbed for it quickly, cursing and jumping up from the couch as he read the caller and answered.
“Dick? What’s wrong?”
“I’m checking in with you, actually.” You heard the quiet reply from the speaker, “You were meant to be out with me tonight, but I see you’re busy chatting on the couch there.”
There was a distinct note of humour in the tinny voice coming from the phone as you and Damian both whipped your heads around to stare out the darkened windows towards the high-rise building across from you. If you strained really hard, you thought you might have seen a small figure on its roof stand up out of the darkness and wave.
Damian was scowling.
“I lost track of time,” His reply was short as he stepped up to the window, gaze focussed on the speck across from you. “I’ll be out shortly.”
Dick was laughing, the sound delighted.
“Just stay put, Little D,” He encouraged, “There’s nothing happening tonight anyway. Take the night off.”
Damian seemed to pause, looking uncertain, as if Dick’s offer was a foreign concept.
“Night… off?”
“It’s good to see Amira back up and about, yeah?” The reply was teasing, and Damian’s question seemed to have been carefully avoided, “Just enjoy yourself, Dami.”
Damian’s frown was only pulling further down as he looked even more confused. You distinctly heard another peal of laughter from the phone.
“And say hi to her from me.”
You waved, and the little figure waved back before flipping off the edge of the building and swinging away.
“Did you stay with Bruce once your mother left you with him?”
You question pulled the frowning vigilante away from the window, but he made sure to pull the curtains tightly closed before he slowly sank back down onto the couch.
“Yes.”
You were quick to follow up with another question, and Damian’s full attention finally turned back to you.
“What is it like living in the Wayne Manor?”
“Well, it’s very big…”
It almost felt like the roles were reversed from your initial weeks together, where Damian held all the curiosity, and you answered every question he had. Now you were the one with insatiable interest, and he did his best to answer your questions, albeit with an initial hesitance and suspicion that died the more questions you asked.
As the night got older, the conversation flowed more easily, and as you both settled down with dessert and warm drinks, Damian began to ask more questions of you as well.
“What’s your favourite colour?”
“Yellow. When did you start painting?”
“At ten, when I moved into the Manor. Do you miss Egypt?”
“Sometimes. I miss the sun and the history, but not the orphanage. Do you enjoy fighting?”
“It depends. Sometimes it can be enjoyable, or even rewarding in the right circumstances. There… often isn’t a right circumstance anymore. Do you remember coming to the orphanage?”
“No, I was only a baby and don’t remember anything before being there. Do you ever miss the League of Assassins?”
“Only how straightforward life was there; never what life was. Have you ever had pets?”
“No, I’ve always wanted some though, but I don’t think they’d get on with Ryuu. Have you?”
“I have a cat, a cow, and a dragon-bat.”
“A dragon-bat? What even is that?”
After a while, you forgot that you were having a conversation with Robin, that you were the Deathweaver, or even that you were in hiding. Instead, you became simply a man and a woman, having a conversation on a couch, late into the night.
Chapter 15: In Sickness and in Health
Notes:
So now Damian and Amira truly know the other - and they're not shying away from all that they are <3
Enjoy a few more fluffy chapters before shit really hits the fan ;)Again, thank you all for your support and kindness!!
Chapter Text
AMIRA
“You look terrible.”
Damian’s responding glare lacked its usual silent threat of death, which was testament to how terrible he was also no doubt feeling. He was dressed in casual clothes, which was unusual in itself as it was morning, and he was usually still in his Robin costume when you woke.
A box of tissues sat on the table before him, his green eyes were slightly glazed, and the end of his nose was ever so slightly red. The glare became more pronounced as he noticed your attention linger on these. But as he opened his mouth to no doubt announce his displeasure, he sneezed.
Pulling another tissue from the box with an irritated grunt, Damian blew his nose and dropped the tissue into a nearby bin.
“Let me wash my hands, then I’ll fix you a coffee,” He muttered, beginning to push back from the table.
“Stop.” At your order, Damian stilled, but it seemed more out of surprise that you were demanding anything than out of actual compliance.
“Damian,” You began, and you noted his usual slight pause at the use of his name. You pushed on, “You’re obviously sick. I’ll get the coffee; you head off to bed.”
He held your gaze for a long time. His green eyes were defiant, and you made an effort to keep yours free of any challenge in response. You had long since learned that challenging Damian’s strong personality with equal strength only made him more stubborn, and only a firm approach free of provocation seemed to make him actually listen.
You saw it working now. As he saw no will for confrontation in your eyes, and instead only quiet encouragement that he agree with the logical option, the stiffness slowly faded from his body and he let out a deep sigh.
“Very well.”
He made his grudging agreement clear in his posture as he pushed back further from the table and stalked down the hallway to the bedroom. You followed his movements with a smile, before wandering to the kitchen to make yourself a coffee and pull the latest crossword towards you.
You went about your day as normal, curling up on the couch with a book so Ryuu could snooze in your lap. You made yourself lunch. You worked through some English quizzes, determined that one morning you could finish an entire crossword without Damian’s help.
But as you began thinking about what to make for dinner, you noted a throbbing in your head.
And when you went back to your crossword you began sneezing.
And when you put the paper down in favour of trying to read again you realised you felt awfully nauseas and desperately tired.
Aw hell.
You tried, you really did, to power through the afternoon and get through to when you expected Damian to wake back up. But the hours quickly began to drag as you felt more and more awful.
You gave up.
Creeping down the hallway as quietly as you could, you pushed open the bedroom door and stepped inside. Moving into the darkness, you were startled when Damian suddenly sat bolt upright, holding a weapon directly towards your throat. It was a katana, glinting in the half-light. However, it wasn’t the imminent danger that made you stumble.
Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck. Of course he slept shirtless. You idiot Amira! Clearly you hadn’t thought this through at all.
“Amira?”
Damian’s voice was husky with sleep as he lowered the katana, and the sound of the harsh confusion in his voice made your stomach flip. You tried but failed spectacularly not to focus on the scarred expanse of dark bronze skin that was his heavily muscled chest.
Maybe you could pretend the butterflies in your stomach were a side effect of being sick.
You swallowed past the feeling.
“I need to sleep,” You muttered.
“But… I’m here,” Damian didn’t sound angry, just confused.
You moved around to the side of the bed that would keep you as far from him as possible, “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time would it,” You attempted to tease despite your pounding head, but the words came out weak. You were trying your hardest to keep your eyes away from the gorgeous, half-naked man with intense emerald eyes staring your way through the dark.
Damian looked at you in surprise, then scowled as he realised just who had let that piece of information slip.
“Dick.”
You shrugged as you clambered into the bed, “Actually it was Steph, but via Dick.”
He grumbled something under his breath that resembled something threatening. You sighed, abruptly exhausted.
“Look, I feel like shit as well, I just want to sleep.”
Reaching behind you, you grabbed a few of the extra pillows and shoved them into the middle of the bed, making a small wall of pillows between you.
“If I don’t cross the line, and you don’t cross the line, then we won’t have a problem.”
Your words finished in a loud sneeze that made your head hurt even worse, and you rubbed at your forehead. Feeling too crappy to allow Damian the time to think it through, you turned over, pulled the sheets in close, closed your eyes, and tried not to think too hard about the unbelievably hot vigilante you had just climbed into bed with.
DAMIAN
He knew the exact moment Amira dropped into sleep, because her breaths grew suddenly slower and deeper, and she stopped shifting uncomfortably in place. Damian lay on his back, his head turned towards her, and thought. Thinking was harder than usual, because his head fucking hurt, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t imagined the heated look in Amira’s eyes as she had looked at him.
But… he was sick. It was dark. Maybe Damian had imagined it.
Though he didn’t usually imagine things, never had. In fact, he was a particularly good detective who had become exceedingly good at reading Amira’s facial expressions down to a minute degree.
But he wasn’t really sure of anything when it came to Amira.
Damian was far too aware of the body that lay beside him, separated only by a flimsy wall of pillows. He was far too aware of its warmth, and the itch in his hands to reach over the makeshift wall between them. He was far too aware of Amira, full stop.
He had never slept in the same bed as someone before. Even when younger on the few occasions he had fallen asleep next to one of his adopted siblings, he had always dragged himself to his own bed at some point, never trusting enough or being comfortable enough to allow such closeness for very long.
Damian couldn’t believe he had actually allowed the woman he was charged with protecting to climb into bed with him now. He knew Bruce would be furious, but he had the strange feeling Dick might not be so against it. Why was he more comfortable with Amira than his own family? What was so different about her?
Why was he even considering what his family might think? What the hell was wrong with him?
It was making his head hurt more.
So instead of thinking, Damian watched. He took in the subtle curves hidden by thick sheets next to him and watched the vague light glimmer on the inky dark hair splayed across the pillow next to him.
What colours would he mix to get that gimmer? How much blue would it take to get the exact tint of her eyes? It was a shame paint didn’t hold scents, because Damian would pay an exorbitant amount of money to bottle the cool vanilla that curled around them both and settled them into its soft embrace.
Damian huffed quietly to himself. It was all the wrong questions to be asking. All he would ever be able to do was look and silently crave.
His head bloody hurt, and he still felt rubbish himself. Deciding Amira was in deep enough sleep that she was unlikely to wake soon, Damian turned over so he would no longer be tempted to watch the sleeping woman at his side like a creep, but carefully enough he wouldn’t disturb her. Unconsciously, he synced his breaths up with hers, and soon dropped into sleep himself.
Damian woke again to a groan of pain beside him, and he turned over to see Amira sitting up and cradling her head. Trying to clear the sleep still clouding his head, Damian propped himself up on an arm.
“You alright?” His voice slurred slightly with sleep, but Amira turned her head towards him, eyes still closed as she grimaced.
“M’head’s fucking sore,” She muttered, voice as rough with sleep as his was, “Forgot to take pain relief before bed.”
Damian rolled back to his side briefly before coming back with a pack of aspirin in his hand.
“Here, do you need water?”
“Thanks, um, no I’ve got some.”
Amira rolled back over onto her stomach and stretched towards the bedside table on her side, affording Damian an uninterrupted view of the smooth golden skin of her midriff, as her long sleeved top had ridden up in her sleep. Damian immediately averted his eyes, raising them instead to the ceiling to pray to anything and everything that would listen for his body to settle the fuck down. It didn’t help that now he knew just how soft her skin was.
Damian gave up praying and started through some breathing exercises.
Amira downed an aspirin before slumping back against the pillows and throwing an arm across her eyes with a groan.
“I don’t think I can cook tonight, sorry.”
Damian shrugged, tossing the aspirin packet back onto his bedside, “I can make something.”
The arm moved slightly so an eye could appraise him sceptically, “You?”
“Hey,” Damian was affronted, “I can cook.”
Now both blue eyes were staring, silently teasing, “Yeah, what are you going to do?”
“I… can do grilled cheese?”
Amira blinked up at him for a moment before starting to laugh heartily. She quickly choked off with a groan as she cringed and started rubbing her temples.
“Ow my head.”
Damian scowled at her, knowing the expression wasn’t nearly as severe as he wanted.
“I’m not sure I appreciate the mocking tone.”
Amira smirked up at him, “Well I appreciate the offer, but honestly I’m feeling too nauseas to eat right now.”
“Fine, but you’re missing out.”
Amira’s smile turned more genuine, and she gave a much quieter chuckle this time, likely in an effort to protect her head.
It was the smile that suddenly struck Damian with the realisation of the situation he had found himself in. He was shirtless, in bed with a woman he was meant to be protecting as his job. And here was Amira, casually lying in bed less than a meter from him with her own shirt riding up her stomach, with bright eyes turned his way and an easy laugh. And Damian was enjoying it.
The realisation almost made him feel panic, something Damian had never been prone to, and wasn’t sure he had ever truly felt in his life. He was dangerously close to genuinely really liking Amira. Sure he… tolerated her presence, found her attractive, but liking her? It was entirely new territory for Damian, an unknown, and he really wasn’t sure he wanted to see it through.
And so, with a strained nod, Damian scrambled out of bed and grabbed the nearest shirt he could get his hands on to shrug it over his head. He felt Amira’s eyes follow his movements, and he hated but also craved the memories of gentle gloved hands on the skin at his back, knowing he would take the pain any day just to have Amira’s hands on him again.
Giving into any of these strange compulsions would only cause problems, could only interfere with his work as Robin and his life as Damian Wayne. And that was without mention that even the slightest brush of her skin was off the table.
“Go back to sleep,” Damian half-turned back towards Amira as he addressed her, but he kept his gaze away, unsure what emotions it might betray. “I won’t head out until late tonight, so get what rest you need.”
He ducked out of the door before she could reply, or before he could give into the urge to look at her again.
Damian actually felt somewhat better after the sleep, and tried to keep himself busy now that he was awake properly. For a while he occupied himself with the crosswords, working out the answers but not writing them down so they could be left blank for when Amira did them.
He was interested by the small pamphlet that fell from the newspaper when he moved it; a small, printed plea for help from a couple that lived elsewhere in the apartment building. STILL MISSING. The large text and promise of a reward was displayed alongside a picture of an orange cat Damian was sure he had seen around weeks ago. He shrugged and silently decided to keep an eye out for it on patrol.
Quickly growing bored, he ended up on the couch and picking up the most recent book left there by Amira, The Hobbit. Damian wasn’t usually into fantasy books, but he found this one dense and rich enough in its wording and environment that he found himself enjoying it.
At some point, Ryuu made its way back in from the outdoors, and the small black kitten wasted no time on clawing up Damian’s pant leg and making itself comfortable on his lap. While Damian made sure to grumble at its presence, he wasn’t too bothered by the small weight, and found it settled the feeling of missing his own pets. He wondered idly how Alfred, Goliath, and Batcow were getting on without him there. Cass better have been keeping up with his written instructions of scheduled food and pets for them.
It took a few hours before a shuffling sound drew Damian away from the book and he glanced up to see Amira appear down the hallway. She was a long sight from her usual effortless grace. Her black hair was mussed, her blue eyes glazed with sleep, and she’d thrown one of Damian’s oversized sweaters on and was in the midst of rolling up the sleeves so they didn’t keep falling over her hands. Even her steps were stuttered and uneven as she yawned.
She was unfairly beautiful, and Damian almost groaned aloud. He was having a hard enough time keeping his mind off how distracting his charge was already without her walking around looking like that.
Amira perked up on seeing him, something Damian had been noticing more often. The small act of seeming happier on seeing him made him feel… strange. Warm.
She sent a small smile his way, “Hey.”
Damian raised an eyebrow, making sure to send a pointed look towards the sweater she had commandeered, “Feeling better?”
Amira blushed slightly and pulled self-consciously at the bottom of the top. “Sorry, hopefully you don’t mind, yours are warmer.” She cleared her throat before replying to his actual question, “And yeah actually, a little better.”
Damian didn’t mind. In fact, he minded so little it made him a bit mad. Fuck he was pathetic.
He put aside the book and moved Ryuu from his lap to the couch, “Coffee?”
Amira wrapped her arms around herself and sat at the table with a pleading smile, “Actually, if it’s all the same to you, I might have that grilled cheese now.”
Damian felt the hint of a smile tug at his lips before he was able to smother it. He stood without speaking and began to gather the ingredients. It didn’t take long before the first toastie was on a plate so he could cut it into triangles. He wasn’t sure why, but Alfred swore they tasted better this way. He was inclined to agree.
He passed the plate across to Amira, which she took from his grip, careful as usual to avoid his fingers despite the gloves she always wore.
She dug in quickly and Damian turned back to the pan to put a second in. But he paused when he noticed the sounds of eating behind him had halted. Glancing back, he was surprised and more than a little suspicious to see Amira staring down at the grilled cheese with a massive grin on her face.
“Why are you smiling?” He asked warily.
Amira only smiled wider, “This is really good, Damian.”
He felt his expression drop into a heavier frown at the subtle stunned tone, feeling a little insulted.
“And that’s unexpected?”
“Well,” Amira’s eyes lifted to meet his, and the pale blue glittered mischievously, “For a rich kid who’s butler cooks for them all the time… it’s not bad.”
Damian balled up a paper towel and threw it half-heartedly towards her. Amira batted it away from her face, breaking into a quiet but genuine, tinkling laugh.
Turning back around to save the next grilled cheese from burning, Damian smiled.
Chapter 16: Impromptu Family Dinners
Notes:
A long awaited alternate POV :)) It's a little bit shorter but I hope you enjoy it!! And yes...we're going to see a lot more of the batfamily moving forwards:)
A continued massive thanks for all of your ongoing support! It's such a highlight of my week to read the kind comments and see your reactions to the chapter!
Look after yourselves <3
Chapter Text
JASON
The moment Jason opened the door, the smell of something delicious drew him in further.
“Honey, I’m home!”
His loud announcement as he turned into the living area of the safehouse drew the furious glare he was expecting from the demon child. Well, still demon, not so much child anymore. While Damian’s glare had only grown more intimidating as he aged, Jason, much like the others, had only grown less bothered by it.
Amira, bless the small cooking prodigy, looked up from where she sat on the couch with a warm smile that tempered the look of frigid ice from Damian.
“Hi Jason, here for food?”
Jason detached his mask and dumped it down onto a low shelf near the door as he strode inside with a grin.
“You bet.”
Damian’s chilling glare still worked a treat on anyone who wasn’t a part of the overly massive Wayne family Bruce had somehow pulled together over the years. However, it had never seemed to work on Amira, who was quickly on the receiving end of the glare as she just nodded in easy acceptance.
“Did you know about this?” Damian snapped, glare swapping from Amira back to Jason as he wandered into the kitchen to pull the lid off a bubbling stew and sniff appreciatively.
Amira just rolled her eyes at the incensed demon, which only made Jason’s estimations of her rise higher.
“No, I didn’t. But I’m already making extra for Dick, so what’s one more?”
Jason froze, quickly replacing the lid with a clatter, “Wait, Dick’s here?”
A flush came from down the hallway, and Jason groaned aloud as his brother soon appeared, looking delighted when he caught sight of Jason in the kitchen.
“Jaybird! I didn’t know you’d be joining us!”
“If I’d known you’d be here then I wouldn’t be,” He grumbled as an arm slung itself around his shoulders and steered him towards a seat at the table.
“Ah, don’t be like that! It’s been a while since you’ve joined us for dinner at the Manor!”
“It would be preferable if you were there,” Damian’s irritated voice came from across the room.
Jason shot Damian a cheeky grin that he knew would just annoy him more.
“But I’m hungry, and more importantly, avoiding Bruce.”
Amira tilted her head and closed the book on her lap, “You’re fighting?”
Dick sighed, the sound long suffering, “It’s like a weekly thing for them.” He explained, then glanced over at Jason, “What was it this time?”
Jason smirked, “He frowned at me a little harder than usual.”
“Jay…” Dick groaned, but Jason wasn’t interested on yet another lecture from the golden child about not deliberately upsetting Bruce. So instead he looked across to Amira, ignoring the silently seething Damian who stood with arms crossed near her.
“What’re you reading?”
Amira turned the book over in her hands, holding it up so Jason could see the cover.
“Pride and Prejudice, Damian recommended it.”
Jason glanced across at Damian, who’s crossed arms tightened a bit as he narrowed his glare, daring him to comment.
“I’m up to meeting Wickham, who Elizabeth seems to like,” Amira continued as she frowned down at the book, “But I’m not sure about him. He’s got a lot of dirt on Darcy who I’m pretty sure Elizabeth ends up with, so it can’t be true, right?”
Jason’s gaze immediately darted back to meet Damian’s, the shared memory glinting in both of their eyes. A night where a much younger Damian was trying to get dirt on Jason and had ended up reading on his couch instead.
I do not trust this Wickham character. He seems wrong for Elizabeth.
Oh boy, just keep reading.
Jason dragged his gaze back to Amira, just in case the demon recognised the warmth in his eyes. Damn the baby bat for passing on something Jason had taught him – of all people. It almost made him feel fond of the stuck-up, irritating bastard.
“I guess you’ll find out,” He said instead to Amira with a smirk.
Damian seemed keen to change the subject, because he narrowed his eyes at Jason again, no doubt trying to hide the fact he wasn’t nearly as annoyed and tense as he had been moments before.
“You weren’t surprised she knew your name,” He pointed out.
Ah, yes. The lack of reaction to the use of his name and the casual way he had tossed his mask aside no doubt tipped Damian off to a change. But Damian looked surprised when it was Dick who was the one who laughed nervously.
“Yeah… about that,” Dick shifted in place, and Jason started smiling when he realised the demon’s irritation wouldn’t be directed at him for once. “I may have mentioned that Amira is now in the know about our identities to the rest of the family.”
“May have mentioned it?” Jason scoffed loudly, gleefully digging Dick a bigger hole, “He came in bouncing with excitement one night and crowed it to anyone who would stand still long enough to listen.”
Dick elbowed Jason’s side, hard.
Damian was back to glaring properly, “So everyone knows?”
Jason leaned back in the chair as he put his hands behind his head, grinning widely despite the new twinge in his ribs, “Yep.”
Amira was looking between each of them, clearly trying and failing to judge their facial expressions.
“Is that… a bad thing?”
There was a long beat of silence, but Damian didn’t directly answer her when he at last spoke, “Father hasn’t said anything.”
There was a note of hesitance in his voice, and Jason almost winced on realising that despite now being an adult, Damian felt just as hopelessly reliant on Bruce’s approval as the rest of them. Wanting to dissipate that uncomfortable realisation, Jason forced out a chuckle.
“He’s probably waiting to chew you out in person.”
Dick seemed to realise Amira was still looking worried.
“Bruce won’t be… pleased.” Jason muffled his laugh as Dick sent him a warning look before continuing, “But he understands the choice Damian had to make.”
Yes, Bruce would understand choosing someone’s life over their family’s secret. What he wouldn’t understand is just what that person’s life meant to Damian, and Jason knew that Bruce was beginning to suspect something else was going on. Most of the others talking about Amira each night as if she was already part of the family didn’t help, of course. But most of the talk was still surface level, it seemed only Stephanie and Dick were quietly convinced that her and Damian were anything more than unwilling friends.
But as conversation stilted and Amira declared there was still a few more minutes until the stew on the stove would be ready, Jason couldn’t help himself from watching the girl on the couch and his youngest brother.
At his side, although Dick kept up easy chatter with him, Jason could tell he was also watching them carefully, and both of their eyes discreetly tracked Damian across the room as he wandered into the kitchen to begin making coffee.
“Amira?”
Damian’s questioning use of her name seemed to be enough for an answer.
“Yes please.”
She hadn’t even looked up from the book she had continued reading, but yet seemed to immediately know what Damian was asking. Jason frowned but was more surprised when Damian turned to both him and Dick.
“Do you want coffee?”
To his credit, Dick managed to stifle his surprise at the grudging question before he answered, “Yeah, thanks.”
Jason did not.
“Um, what?”
Since when had the demon offered to do anything for them? Had he finally had enough of their presence and decided to poison them?
Damian’s eyes narrowed dangerously at the same time as a fist connected with Jason’s knee under the table.
“Ow, fuck!” Jason cursed under his breath as he jerked away, before answering Damian more loudly, “I mean, uh, yes?”
Damian turned his back on them as he pulled four mugs out of a cupboard, and Jason glanced aside at Dick to glare at him.
“What the fuck, man?” He demanded under his breath.
“Don’t be an asshole, Jay.” Dick hissed, just as quietly.
“No I mean, what the fuck,” Jason pointed at Damian’s back, sure the gesture explained everything, “Since when does he… y’know?”
Dick, annoyingly, looked more clued on than Jason did. His growing smile hinted at a realisation Jason hadn’t yet come to.
“Maybe present company is changing things,” Dick murmured, glancing aside.
Jason followed his glance across to the small woman sitting on the couch, still heavily involved in her book as she twirled a strand of hair around a finger.
Jason was starting to gain an appreciation for just what Dick and Steph were already so sure of. Looking back to Damian, he shuddered. Sure, the haughty, irritating, arrogant and self-important child Damian had once been was now an adult, and instead was… slightly less so, but Jason couldn’t quite see how someone like that would translate across to showing any sort of care for someone.
Did Damian like anyone? Sometimes Jason wasn’t even sure the demon liked himself.
But as he and Dick fell silent as they considered what was likely an end of times possibility, Amira spoke.
“Damian?”
Again, there was no actual question asked, just a quiet murmur of his name. All the same, Damian’s body turned towards her slightly as he worked, not quite facing her way, but still showing attentiveness.
Jason stared between them as Damian answered in a similarly familiar way, “Sound it out.”
“I’m trying and I’m struggling.” Amira tapped a finger on a page before her, “Di – dic- tato – royal?”
Jason and Dick’s heads may as well of been on the same swivel as they turned with Damian’s movement to watch as he crossed the room with a steaming mug in hand to look over Amira’s shoulder. As he neared, she dutifully lifted the book closer to him and pointed the word out.
Damian barely glanced at the book before nodding, “Close, dictatorial.”
“Di – dictatorial.” Amira echoed slowly, lowering the book and repeating again, “Dictatorial.”
Damian passed down the mug to her, and again, Amira didn’t even look as she reached up to take the drink from him with murmured thanks. Jason didn’t miss the way Damian held the mug by the rim, and Amira took it from the bottom, ensuring their fingers never touched. The move was effortless in a way that suggested they had exchanged things like this many times before.
Damian continued speaking as he walked back towards the kitchen.
“It’s a derivative from ‘dictator’,” He explained, “Someone with total power, or who is oppressive and tyrannical.”
Amira sipped at her coffee, “So when it says ‘her manners were dictatorial and insolent’, it means she’s overbearing and bossy.”
Damian nodded as he picked up two other mugs from the bench, “Correct.”
“Cool, thanks.” And Amira went back to her book.
Jason was entirely unable to keep the stunned expression from his face, while next to him, Dick was beaming like he’d just been told there would be a second Christmas this year.
What the fuck was that?
It was clear the pair had become far more familiar with each other in the two months they’d been together than anyone could have guessed. Damian had answered a question without even a hint of a snarl in his voice, and not a single insult in sight. In fact, there might have even been a tinge of warmth in his voice.
If he hadn’t of witnessed it himself, Jason would have thought it impossible.
A quiet alarm went off in the kitchen, and Amira’s book closed with a snap.
“Dinner!”
She all but skipped into the kitchen where Damian moved aside for her so she could reach the stove. They kept a careful distance from the other, but not as much of a distance as Jason would have expected between one person who hated physical touch, and another who would be forced into a vision if someone so much as brushed against their skin.
As the pair moved around each other, Damian’s gaze almost didn’t differ from following Amira once, and he watched her with an intensity Jason recognised as him trying to figure out a particularly difficult puzzle.
But Amira breezed around him, apparently uncaring at his heavy attention. She asked Damian to help her pour the stew into bowls, and he didn’t hesitate for a second. She smiled warmly when he wordlessly offered her spoons to go with the bowls, and Damian didn’t once shy from the brilliance of the expression.
Jason leaned over to Dick, keeping his voice low enough that it wouldn’t carry to the pair.
“Twenty bucks that Hellspawn won’t realise he’s into her until she leaves.”
Dick shook his head, still grinning like an idiot as he watched them, “Damian will figure it out earlier.”
“You expect the emotionally constipated child of one of the deadliest assassins in the world and the Batman himself to figure it out?”
“Have some faith, Jason.”
“So it’s a bet then?”
Dick sighed but shook Jason’s hand under the table all the same.
Jason sat back with a grin.
Easy money.
Chapter 17: Messages
Notes:
And with this chapter we are officially halfway!! So as a little present I will give you two at once :))
Enjoy this last bit of fluff - because we're going hard on the angst for a few chapters after this - but it'll all get better again - I promise!!
Take care of yourselves, thank you so much for the continued comments and kudos <3
May you all enjoy the start of Spring (or Autumn) - time to either crack open a cold one and enjoy the sun, or if you're on the other side of the world, enjoy the stunning colours and crispy leaves:))
Chapter Text
AMIRA
You stumbled down the hallway towards the lounge the next day, already looking forward to the coffee that would be waiting for you.
The boys had all left for patrol shortly after dinner last night, but then you had been surprised by the door opening again shortly after as Spoiler strode through. While you hadn’t been expecting her, you were pleased for the company. It was strange after a lifetime alone to now have a rotating roster of people coming by not only for the vigilante guarding you – but to see you. The pair of you had ended up chatting well into the night, Steph asking you all about your childhood, and you getting to ask about the Wayne family – which Steph seemed only too happy to answer any and every question you had.
Having a friend was fun. Steph was the first woman you had ever spent any extended amount of time with, and it was cool to talk to another female your own age. It was easy to tell that physical touch was her love language, because she ran in to hug you and pulled back only at the last second as she remembered, and had instead reached out to pat your shoulder.
But as the night progressed and you became more comfortable and fell into easy conversation, she had asked if she could braid your hair. You had been hesitant to allow it, but she wore gloves with her costume so you decided you could let it pass.
Having gentle hands threading through your hair was a new experience, and strangely intimate, but it helped ease your tense shoulders after some time. You ended up leaning back against Steph’s legs as you grew more comfortable and started just enjoying the company as you talked.
Your ongoing laughter had only ended when another figure had suddenly appeared in the doorway.
“Really, Steph?”
Only the fingers stalling in the braiding of your hair let you know Stephanie was as startled as you were at the silent entrance. But her tone was light and breezy as she quickly finished your braid.
“Sorry, sorry.” But she was quick to start protesting, “But how often do I get to actually talk to Amira without Damian around?”
You had smiled hesitantly at the tall figure in red and black with a yellow ‘X’ of belts strapped across his chest.
“Hi, it’s Timothy, right?”
Red Robin was a figure as intimidating as the rest of them, but when you spoke, he pulled back the mask covering most of his face and smiled.
“Tim,” He corrected easily, “It’s nice to meet you at last,” Despite his friendliness, you saw that he looked you over carefully, almost with curiosity, as he stepped further inside.
“I’m not often on patrol anymore,” He continued to explain, “Which is why I haven’t had the chance to pop by yet.”
You smiled more fully now as you nodded, feeling at ease despite him still mostly being a stranger. Tim didn’t feel like a stranger, though. It felt like he was just another extension of Damian and Steph’s family, all of whom had been kind towards you; so you couldn’t help but feel as safe around him as you did the others, despite knowing little more than his name.
But Steph was now staring at him, looking confused.
“Why are you out tonight?”
Tim’s smile quickly turned to a frown as his blue eyes flicked to her, “Because you went missing, and the others can’t spare anyone else to go looking for you.”
Steph gasped and began pulling at a compartment on her belt in immediate distress.
“Oh shit, I forgot to put my comm in!”
Tim rolled his eyes, sighing loudly.
“B isn’t happy, but I’ll ass cover.”
Steph jumped up and bounced over to Tim, planting a quick kiss on his cheek.
“Thanks Tim!”
“It’s not for you,” He grumbled, “It’s for Amira.”
You blinked at him, for a second sure you had misheard, “Me?”
“Bruce doesn’t know just how often his children are around here,” Tim explained as he pulled his mask back over his face, readying to leave, “It’s… probably for the best, at this stage of things.”
“This stage?”
Steph winked at you as she pulled her own mask up to cover her mouth.
“Bruce doesn’t take kindly to change,” She assured, “He just needs some time to warm up to the idea that you’re here to stay.”
Here to stay?
Tim seemed to see your confusion at her words, but he merely grinned and dragged Steph out the door. They had disappeared immediately into the night, and you were left staring out into the darkness.
You had stayed awake a long time thinking their last words through to an increasing feeling of nervousness. Everything Damian and the others had ever said about Bruce, about The Batman, made you feel like your paths would eventually converge again, and that it was unlikely to be pretty.
You were actually looking forward to seeing Damian when you woke that morning, hoping the sense of security that always came with his presence would settle the strange anxiety you had felt all night. But when you walked into the lounge that morning, Damian was nowhere to be seen.
Initially your anxiety worsened, a strange pit forming in your stomach as panic began to claw up your throat at his absence. But as you walked a little further into the lounge, you spotted a folded note on the kitchen table. Quickly unfolding it, the threatening fear eased on seeing the familiar writing.
I will be out today with Nightwing. I have asked Superboy to listen out for you, if you have any trouble call for him. Otherwise, I will check in briefly at different points through the day.
Damian.
You stared at the note for a long time, feeling your erratic heartbeat soothe as you reread his words a few more times. Okay, you were going to spend the day by yourself. That was fine, it was something you had done many times before. Just… never before with the looming threat of an entire criminal gang after you.
You took a deep breath, soothing yourself with the knowledge of your own power and the steady presence of Ryuu as your familiar began to wind around your ankles, no doubt trying to settle you further. A part of you was disappointed you wouldn’t be seeing Damian for an undeterminable amount of time, and a part of you was pleased that he had bothered to leave a note explaining his absence.
He’d be checking in, he said, and it gave you an idea. Grabbing a pen, you scribbled a note in reply to Damian, and folded the paper back up.
I left dinner in the fridge. If you don’t want it can you please give it to Dick, apparently Kori has been craving soups.
Hope you had a productive night fighting bad guys :)
Amira
Assuming Damian was unlikely to come all the way inside to check in, you tucked the note somewhat securely half-under a pot plant near the door. It was able to be seen, but you were concerned it wasn’t obvious enough and Damian would miss it. Picking a flower from the plant, you left it pride of place on the door mat.
Just as you were leaning down to place it, a flash of orange at the edge of your vision had you turning your head, and you were surprised to see a familiar fluffy cat jumping from one flower box to another. You stood up with a loud exclamation that startled the cat enough that it raced away and out of sight, but you pointed after it, gaping dumbly.
Amusement rumbled through your mind, and you turned to see Ryuu sitting casually in the doorway and watching you. As your stunned gaze landed on your familiar – who clearly hadn’t had the neighbour’s cat as a snack after all – it turned and strolled unhurriedly back inside without a word. Shaking your head, you followed after it.
To your delight, when you checked your note an hour later, an answer was printed neatly underneath your scrawl, the words making laughter bubble up inside you.
That was a reasonable attempt at a puzzle, it took me three whole seconds to figure out what the flower at the door was for.
It seems Red Hood took the dinner while I was out. I have made my displeasure clear.
You ducked back inside to check the fridge only to find that – sure enough – the leftovers were gone. Laughing again, you wrote your answer beneath Damian’s script before placing the note back under the potted plant. And so began a chain of responses that slowly but surely made up a conversation throughout the day.
So Jason owes us food then? Can I request some of Alfred’s cooking as payment?
Why?
I’ve heard so many good things about it now. I feel like I have to try for comparison, even if nothing ever tastes good to me again afterwards.
I suppose I can ask him. Pennyworth has been asking to meet you for some time and is likely to allow this demand.
No, Jason has to sort it out.
The annoying bastard will never do anything he’s asked to.
I’ve text him; he’s already said yes.
You have Jason’s number?
Steph gave it to me.
I hate my family.
Jon stopped over briefly to say hello, he’s going to come for dinner tomorrow night if that works for you.
Also, do you know where the grey sweater Cass gave me is?
He just wants to be nosy. But yes, he may come.
I put the sweater in the wash, it had ink stains on the sleeves.
Whoops, thanks. I’m borrowing one of yours again then!
Will you be home back tonight? Should I cook for us both?
I will be back. Dinner would be appreciated.
On the menu: Chickpea soup and Baklava. See you tonight :)
It took some time to get the last reply, and you wondered for a few hours if Damian would even answer. But as you checked the note one last time late in the afternoon, there were two words waiting for you, and it made you smile.
Thank you.
Chapter 18: Old Friends
Notes:
As promised: TWO CHAPTERS WOO!!
As promised: The start of the angst oh no......
TW: description of death (not really)*insert evil laugh here*
<3
Chapter Text
AMIRA
Your scream brought Damian tearing through into the lounge, clothes rumpled from sleep, katana drawn, and green eyes alight with early fury at whatever threat had suddenly appeared in the safehouse that afternoon.
The two figures that had suddenly slid through the wall jumped back in fright, almost disappearing through it again. But one recovered a little faster than the other and stared at you in growing recognition.
“It’s her! I told you we’d find her!”
“Amira!” Damian was staring around the lounge, furious and clearly alarmed as he saw nothing. He tried to follow your wide gaze multiple times, saw only bare wall, and quickly strode closer to hover at your back protectively, “What is it?”
Damian’s close presence went a long way to dropping your alarm faster, and you were quick to recognise the ghosts that had suddenly walked into your safehouse.
“Elizabeth? Carol?”
“The ghosts?” Damian echoed in disbelief as both said ghosts nodded in enthusiasm and delight on seeing you both.
Elizabeth and Carol had stepped out of the wall more fully and were smiling hugely as they now crowded around you.
“It is her!”
“We’ve spent so long searching for you!”
“Wait, slow down,” You interrupted, not displeased to see them, but definitely very surprised, “You’ve been looking for me?”
“Amira.” It wasn’t Damian’s firm tone that gained your entire attention, but the light brush of his chest against your back as he stepped even closer, the move clearly defensive and ready to act. “How did they find us?”
It was only when glancing up at the vigilante behind you that you saw the tensing of his jaw and the gleam of alarm in his eyes. Suddenly, you realised his concern. If the ghosts had found you, perhaps someone else could have as well. Your safehouse could suddenly be in very real danger. Again.
“You left quite suddenly when those men attacked, so we didn’t know where you had gone. But last week it suddenly grew cold. We don’t feel cold.” It was Elizabeth that answered his question, while Carol stood back and cocked her head with bright interest as she took in just how close Damian was standing to you.
“We knew it had to be you – your power,” Elizabeth continued, “We managed to follow the feeling to Blüdhaven before the feeling went away. We’ve been spending the last week searching through all of Blüdhaven to try and find you.”
You turned around to relay that back to Damian, carefully taking a step away from him to try and calm your heart that was stuttering at his nearness. But he was still apprehensive enough that he closed the gap again, following your step away and staying close enough to you that one of his sleeves brushed against yours as he mimicked your movement. His gaze stayed up and darting between the door and windows as he looked for dangers, apparently uncaring at your closeness.
You were unable to hide your shiver despite the warmth you felt radiating from him.
“I think when I was unconscious last week and trapped in the vision, they were able to track my magical signature,” You were impressed at how even your voice was, given how off-balance you felt.
Damian’s harsh tone didn’t ease, but his bright eyes did now flick down to look at you, “Could others do that?”
It was hard not to get trapped in the intensity of the gaze, so you instead looked aside to the ghosts who now stared between you and Damian with growing smiles.
“They were only able to distinguish the difference between the coolness of my power versus the weather because they don’t ever feel cold otherwise – they’re ghosts. So, no.”
Only now did Damian finally take a step away from you and lower his katana. You tracked the movement but averted your eyes again when they started to linger on the hair that was mussed from sleep and falling over his forehead in an achingly attractive way.
“So everything’s good here?” He clarified.
“Um, yeah,” You couldn’t help your embarrassed blush, mumbling, “Sorry to wake you.”
He grunted and rubbed at his face, “It’s fine, I’d rather know. I’m going to try for a couple more hours of sleep though.”
You nodded, biting your lip when you saw Carol was now wandering around the apartment with interest and sticking her head into the bedroom through the wall.
“There’s only one bed!” She exclaimed.
Your blush worsened, and you almost died of embarrassment when you saw Damian’s gaze catch on your flaming cheeks, and a small, curious frown creased his expression. To your immense relief, he didn’t comment, and just turned and made his way down to the bedroom to shut himself back inside it.
Visibly slumping, you glared half-heartedly at Carol.
“Really?” You hissed, not wanting to talk at normal volume in case Damian could still hear you.
Carol smirked your way, “I am very interested to know where you sleep.”
“Robin was standing rather close to you,” Elizabeth added on gleefully, her eyes twinkling with amusement and delight. “Neither of you seemed particularly against it, I might add.”
“I – We – Um…” You floundered for a response, not sure how to begin to describe the unspoken closeness between you both, or the comfort you now felt around Damian.
Both ghosts were obviously thrilled at this turn of events.
“My my,” Eizabeth carried on, turning to Carol, “He’s very protective, isn’t he?”
Carol winked your way as she picked up the teasing, “Attentive, even?”
“And goodness, very attractive without the mask.”
“Quite comfortable in your space, as well.”
“I assume a proposal isn’t far off then?”
“Have you had sex yet?”
“Oh my Gods, stop!” Your mortified exclamation was far too loud, and you slapped your hands over your mouth as you stared towards the bedroom. Thankfully, the door stayed closed.
You turned back to the ghosts, flapping your hands at them as you herded them to the other end of the lounge and away from the short hallway leading to the bedroom. Cheeks positively burning, you tried your best to ignore the marriage or sex comments. Because, yes, one of those came embarrassingly close to some of your more recent, hidden fantasies that would never happen. But even as your stomach erupted into butterflies at the thought, you knew it was a far cry from ever being a possibility.
“No, and no.” You glared between both women, “We take turns sleeping, just like the last place. And as I said before, we are not together.”
Carol and Elizabeth both sighed, but neither of them quite lost their grins.
“What a shame,” Carol pouted but her tone was teasing.
Elizabeth nodded with mock sadness, “They would have made truly beautiful babies.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose, “May the Goddess Isis give me strength.” With a deep breath, you opened your eyes again and changed the topic.
“You said you were trying to find me, why?”
Both women now lost their smiles entirely, and Elizabeth in particular looked quite hurt.
Carol scowled at you, “We thought we were friends.”
“We quite enjoyed your company,” Elizabeth sniffed pertly, “Excuse us if we thought you might have as well.”
“I – shit, of course I did.” During these past couple of months, you had been around other people more than you had ever been in your life. With Damian around daily, spending time with these two in the last safehouse, and being visited often by a rotating roster of heroes – it was all doing a lot to make you realise just how lonely you had been previously, and how much you still missed having company in the few hours you were entirely alone now. “I just… ghosts don’t usually move from specific places.”
“Well, we wanted to hang around you more than that place,” Carol snorted and crossed her arms, “But we can leave again if you don’t want us.”
“No!” You were quick to disagree, suddenly fearful they would actually leave, and your quick negative made the women reflectively smile as you continued more awkwardly. “I – I missed you both.”
You had missed them. You liked having people around, and liked having people who genuinely wanted to talk to you and spend time with you. Maybe it was also why you liked being around Damian so much, he made good company, and he seemed to be choosing to spend more time with you rather than finding his own space to train in as far from you as possible – like when you had first been forced together. Trying to figure out how to coexist around him was like having another, much more complex puzzle to figure out, but slowly but surely he seemed to be opening up.
It was certainly a far cry from the lonely existence you’d had before.
Suddenly Elizabeth’s expression was taking on something more motherly as she looked at you. No doubt she saw you were thinking hard.
“You’ve been having a tough time of things,” She recognised.
You shrugged, unsure why the look of sympathy made your throat feel tight. Swallowing against it, you answered, “It’s been a weird couple of months.”
Carol had already made herself comfortable on the couch, and she forced a brighter tone.
“Well, tell us about it. We have so much to catch up on!”
With a small smile, you and Elizabeth joined her on the couch and you chatted quietly for the next hour or so, telling them all about this new safehouse and the new people you had met, your discovery of Damian’s identity, and, much more quietly, the feelings you were starting to struggle with when it came to your guard – who wasn’t nearly as uncaring and harsh as he had first seemed.
As you talked, a small black beetle crawled in under the door and grew quickly to a large panther as it stalked towards you, growling low.
Ryuu felt the Seer’s alarm.
The ghosts are back, they startled me, is all. You were quick to reassure, pausing your conversation.
Ryuu sniffed the air and slunk around the apartment, checking the edges and scenting everything before finally shrinking back into its usual kitten.
There is no threat, Your familiar was apparently pleased, and you continued your chat with the two ghosts as your familiar jumped up to curl on your lap.
Damian came out a little later, and you jumped up with an apology that you hadn’t started dinner. He waved you off easily.
“Maybe it’s just time for you to call Jason in on his favour.”
You blinked on seeing the gleam in his eyes, then slowly smiled.
“Dinner?”
He smirked and folded his arms – a crossing of very formidable arms over an even more formidable chest. “Exactly.”
You had to drag your gaze back up to his, a girl could really get in trouble with those muscles. You were quick to put your back to him and were on the phone to Jason moments later.
“What?” The answering voice was irritated and slurred, like he’d just woken up.
You didn’t ramble, thinking Jason wouldn’t appreciate pleasantries right now, “Can you bring us dinner?”
“Are you fucking kidding?” He snapped, quickly more awake.
“You owe us.” You pointed out.
“Ugh,” There was the sound of shuffling on the other end, as if Jason was dragging himself out of bed, “Fine, what do you want?”
“Alfred’s cooking, remember?”
“Fuck’s sake,” You barely caught the mutter, “I’m pissed at Bruce at the moment, so I’m trying to actively avoid the Manor,” He complained, “Can’t you just have pizza or something?”
You turned to frown across at Damian, who was watching with a raised eyebrow, “You promised, Jason.”
A groan came through the speaker before the grumbling voice came back.
“You’re lucky it’s you asking and not the demon.”
The call abruptly ended, and you grinned across at Damian in victory.
“He’s actually doing it?” He sounded somewhat surprised.
“Sure is.”
He nodded your way in respect, and you preened.
Dinner was dropped off a couple of hours later – by being dumped on your doorstep with only a curt text letting you know it was there from Jason – and you and Damian enjoyed a delicious mushroom gnocchi dish from Alfred.
Ryuu sat purring on your lap throughout, and the two ghosts made a show of sitting at the table with you, joining in on the conversation even though you had to relay it all through to Damian. He actually ended up asking them both questions about their lives, in particular Elizabeth who had lived in a completely different century and had seen Gotham grow and change so much over the years.
It was fun, you were happy. And when you went to bed that night, it was with a smile on your face.
Darkness reigned, obscuring your vision, but you felt yourself standing in a large open space as sound slowly came to you. You ducked in alarm as you heard loud gunfire echo around you, then you stilled as an awful, anguished scream split the air. Something forced you to walk forwards, but you stopped again in horror as you felt a hot, viscous liquid lap against your bare feet. The same person that had screamed so desperately soon sounded somewhere close, pleading and begging through broken sobs.
“No! Please no! Don’t leave me, wake up! No!”
You startled awake with a gasp and drenched in sweat. The awful, agonised begging rang through your mind. You knew the scream, knew the voice. It was yours.
But it hadn’t been full of pain. Just desperate, heart wrenching grief.
Dragging yourself upright, you noticed a creeping chill pricking at your spine. It was a warning, vague but definitive. This hadn’t been just any nightmare, but a vision. You swallowed hard, trying to slow your gasping breaths as dread started to grip at your chest.
Something terrible was going to happen.
You were quick to duck across into the bathroom and take a long hot shower, trying to soothe yourself and settle the awful surety that things were about to take a turn for the worse. This precognition was even more direct than the vague sense of uneasiness before the day you had become stuck in the vision. It was distinct dread, even though you were not yet sure what the cause would be.
Towelling off and staring into the bathroom mirror, you tried to school your expression into something vaguely normal, but you couldn’t quite smooth out the small crease between your brows. You also couldn’t fix the bags under your eyes.
With a sigh, you gave up, chucked some comfy clothes on, and wandered out into the lounge.
Damian sat at the table reading through the paper, unaware of the two ghosts that peered over his shoulders to read it alongside him. He looked up at you as you entered.
“Morni – “ He cut himself off as he saw you.
“That bad huh?” You made a show of rolling your eyes as you sat at the table across from him and pulled the mug of coffee closer – no doubt made while you were in the shower.
“Everything okay?” Damian asked cautiously. You couldn’t blame him, every time you had presented unsettled in the mornings, something bad had happened. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to admit there was something even bigger lurking.
So instead you just shrugged, “Nightmare.”
You took a sip of coffee, trying to look unconcerned. Damian didn’t look at all convinced but didn’t push. You tried your best to be present and engaged at breakfast, asking Damian about his night and making sure any injuries were minor. Then you both worked through the daily puzzles as you normally did. You started out on the crossword while Damian did the harder sudoku’s before you swapped, and he could finish the words you didn’t know and you could try your hand at the easy sudoku.
It was normal, homey, even intimate, and you couldn’t shake the feeling it might be one of the last mornings you would spend like this.
When Damian stood to retire, he paused on his way to the bedroom and looked back at you.
“You’ll come get me if anything happens?”
It said a lot about his level of concern that he even bothered to check.
“Of course.”
Again, he didn’t quite look placated, but he turned away all the same and the door soon closed behind him. You immediately slumped at the table, placing your forehead against the cool marble. A small, furry body pressed against one of your legs.
Danger?
I think so. You admitted to your concerned familiar, But not yet. I need to meditate; I need to see to understand.
Ryuu will watch over the Seer.
You reached down to pat the kitten’s head and it purred in pleasure.
Missing the familiar comfort of your destroyed prayer rug more than ever, you lit a single scented candle and placed it close to where you settled down in the centre of the lounge, hoping the smell of just one wouldn’t disturb Damian.
“You lied to him,” Carol was the first one of the previously silent ghosts to speak. Her words were careful, like she didn’t quite understand why, but realised there was something larger at play.
You just nodded, watching Elizabeth as she settled down near you, apparently ready to watch over you as well. It was strange to see an obviously elderly woman move with such fluidity, but death did take all ailments away – except old age, apparently.
“Why?” Carol pushed.
“I don’t know enough yet,” You answered quietly. “I don’t want to worry him.”
Elizabeth regarded you with eyes that glimmered with every one of her many centuries.
“You do care for him.”
You huffed, a glimmer of humour flickering through the seriousness you had felt hovering over you since waking, “Yeah, I guess I do. No need to rub it in my face.”
Carol laughed lightly and sat down on your other side.
“Alright then,” She said, all business, “No we told you so’s. Figure out what’s going on so you can tell him.”
Ryuu grew to his protective panther size as you stretched briefly before crossing your legs, and with Carol and Elizabeth’s steady presences at your sides, knowing Damian was just down the hall, you slipped easily into meditation.
The vision came to you quickly, as if it had been waiting for you to allow it in. It was blurry around the edges, a sign that it wasn’t yet set in stone, but it was clear enough to be a solid glimpse into a future that was likely to happen.
Again, you felt yourself in a large space, and while you couldn’t make out much about your surroundings, you were focussed in on one person before you.
Damian.
His back was to you, he was fighting figures of shadow, and he appeared the most fluid of them all in his incomparable skill. At one point, after taking down one of the faceless shadows before him, he paused.
A gunshot rang out, and you screamed in horror as you saw the puff of blood splatter out from Damian’s chest. For just a moment, he stared down at it before dropping limply to the floor, suddenly formless.
You were at his side in moments, sobs of terror and grief and desperation tearing from your throat as you continued screaming.
“No! Please no!”
Grabbing onto Damian’s shoulders, you hauled him up your lap, shaking him uselessly but seeing that his brilliant green eyes had already turned dull and glassy as he stared at nothing. His blood pooled around him and coated your hands, and you smeared it across his face as you reached out to cup his cheek.
You sobbed again, shouting into his face, “Don’t leave me, wake up!” But you knew that no amount of shaking or pleading or begging would save him now.
The awful tearing in your chest was as painful as if the shot that had torn through Damian had instead been yours, and you didn’t even recognise the feeling increasing inside you as your power surging, building to a crescendo that crested and suddenly burst with your grief. It exploded out like a bomb, ripping apart the souls and lives of every person in that building except for the man already dead in your arms.
“No!”
Surfacing from the vision was like having a cold bucket of water splashed over you, and you choked out a strangled gasp as you opened your eyes back into reality. The hollow ache through your body remained, and you finally recognised the premature anguish of your breaking heart.
Ryuu was standing before you and growling softly, reacting to the alarm and grief and horror that gripped your chest in a vice. Carol and Elizabeth were staring at you in obvious concern.
Almost without realising what you were doing, you stood in a scramble and darted down the hallway to the bedroom door. Listening hard, the worst of your panic subsided on hearing the muffled but regular, slow breaths of Damian while he slept. He was alive, and for now, he was safe.
Silently, you slid down the door to rest against it, pressing the heels of your palms to your eyes as you tried to steady your ragged breaths. You concentrated on the unhurried breaths of the sleeping man on the other side of the door, trying to fight back the early grief threatening to overwhelm you. The future wasn’t set, and the vision was blurry and not yet fully defined, proving there was a chance to change things.
You sat outside his door for a long time as you struggled with your feelings and the terrible realisation that Damian was going to die if you didn’t figure out how to change his future. Slowly, the others in the household joined you. Ryuu draped himself over your lap, and Elizabeth and Carol once more took seats on either side of you.
They all stayed silent, but you were desperately thankful for their support as you fell apart and slowly pulled yourself back together again, at last hardening with a determination to save the life of the blissfully unaware vigilante on the other side of the door.
Chapter 19: Tense Conversations
Notes:
Hurt and comfort here: they argue (😔) but make up (😊), and there's a little bit of fluffy too <3
Lots of love, take care of yourselves!!
Chapter Text
AMIRA
“What’s wrong?”
Of course, Damian would read the tension straight off your face and posture, it didn’t seem there was much you could hide from him. If you had seemed off this morning, now he would be able to tell something had truly gone awry.
Even looking up to see him standing across from you was hard. The tall muscular body, the dark and handsome features that had started to relax around you enough that you could read the concern in them, the green eyes that saw everything.
This was the man that would die if you didn’t change things.
You hesitated, not sure how much to say to him. Damian had made it clear in the past that he had no intention of knowing his future, but this was his death. Surely if you worked together, you could save him.
Turning more fully towards him, you stopped stirring the curry on the stove and turned down the heat so it wouldn’t boil without your attention.
“Hi,” Even you could tell how strained your smile was. Damian’s frown deepened.
“What’s wrong?” He repeated.
You hesitated again, but decided at last to broach the subject, but carefully, allowing him to back out if he didn’t want to hear it.
“I… meditated.”
The expression across from yours instantly turned wary, “Another feeling?”
“It’s not quite like last time,” You picked at the bottom of your sweater as you considered how to approach the vision, and you eventually decided to just ask him outright. “Can I talk to you about this?”
He looked surprised, like of course you could talk to him. “Yeah?”
“I… know you’ve said before you don’t want to know the future – “
Immediately, Damian’s expression closed off and his voice turned firm, “I don’t.”
“Okay,” You took a breath, “But, what if something was going to happen and – “
“Amira, stop,” Damian’s tone turned sharp, and one hand fisted convulsively, “I have no interest in knowing my future, I don’t want to. I thought you understood that.”
“I do,” You insisted. But it wasn’t that simple, if he just knew. “But what if – “
“I don’t care.” His snapped words wouldn’t let you finish, and he took a few steps closer in agitation, his posture turning aggressive perhaps without intention. “I don’t want to know,” He continued harshly as his eyes lit with a fire you hadn’t seen before from him, “I don’t want to see. It doesn't matter what you’ve seen. I’m not interested in seeing just what sort of monster I become.”
“Damian,” You felt your heart squeeze, because suddenly you realised that he didn’t want to know the future because he was scared of himself. “You don’t understand – “
“Stop, Amira!” The words were yelled at you, and you immediately closed your mouth, unable to help the hurt that jolted through you. Curled on the couch until that moment, Ryuu raised his head with a hiss as Damian turned fury your way. But he continued without hesitation.
“I don’t want to hear it!” He continued yelling, and you felt yourself shrinking under it, “If something is going to happen, so be it! I don’t want to be beholden to a future I don’t have to know! So don’t tell me, and don’t you dare touch me to find out more.”
As his words trailed off into a warning snarl, he turned on his heel and stalked away to the bedroom, returning shortly with the bag containing his Robin costume in hand.
“I’m going out,” He ground out, refusing to look your way where you stood frozen in the kitchen, “Make sure you stay here.”
With that, he was gone.
Utterly stunned at the turn the conversation had taken, you mindlessly turned off the stove completely and sunk down into a seat at the table and fought back the tears.
You understood where he was coming from, you even understood that the explosive anger came from a place of fear and frustration, and that perhaps he had never learnt how to have other outlets for his emotions. But it didn’t make it any easier when the anger was directed your way, especially when you were only trying to help. It hurt, to have someone you cared for get so angry at you, it wasn’t something you had experienced before, and you didn’t like the hollow emptiness it caused.
Damian was gone for hours. When your tears dried up, you moved quietly around the apartment for the rest of the day, finishing the meal and then sitting on the couch to mindlessly watch Carol’s medical dramas and pay them no attention.
Carol and Elizabeth themselves gave you some space, but hovered silently nearby to provide what comfort they could. Ryuu sat near the doorway as a panther through the whole day, and when the handle finally turned again, the familiar stood and growled menacingly.
Damian entered the apartment slowly, dressed in his Robin costume. He edged around the growling panther carefully before his gaze darted across the lounge to land on you. You kept your gaze on the TV, uncaring what was actually on, but determined to ignore Damian as much as he was clearly determined to ignore you.
You heard a small sigh, and his body soon moved into your peripheral vision. He had now taken his mask off and watched you with a small frown of concern. He seemed to be waiting for you to say something, but when he was ignored, he at last ventured,
“Amira?”
You continued to ignore him. Damian didn’t have much patience and ended up walking over to the remote to turn off the TV. You continued to stare at the empty screen, you hadn’t been watching it anyway.
“What do you want?” You asked the silence at last. You saw the slight wince as Damian heard your raw, dead voice.
“I’ve had a while to think,” He said quietly, “I shouldn’t have yelled, or spoken to you like that.”
“You’re right.” You kept your words as emotionless as possible, unwilling to show him just how much he had hurt you earlier.
You heard him swallow, “I should have at least heard you out.”
“Yep.”
“Do you want to talk about it now?”
“No.”
There was a long moment of silence before he ventured at length, “Why not?”
That made you finally turn your head to look at him. “Really, Damian?” You might have been exasperated if you weren’t so tired from crying earlier. “What do you want me to say? You made your feelings on the matter very clear.”
He winced again.
“I was wrong,” He admitted after a long pause, and you were mildly surprised at the admission, knowing how hard it was for Damian to admit any level of vulnerability. “You asked if it was okay to talk about and I threw it back in your face. I’m sorry.”
You stared at him a long time, deciding where to go from there. The apology was honest, and you saw the regret clearly on the handsome features across from you. He was making an effort to stay open to you now.
“I’ve seen something while meditating,” You said at last, “An event. Something bad.” You watched as Damian braced himself, perhaps ready for you to say what you’d seen. But you kept your words vague as you continued. “But its blurry, like it’s not yet certain.”
He paused for a while, still tense as if expecting more.
“That’s it?” He asked at last.
Your resulting glare was harsher than many he had seen before, “What do you mean, that’s it?”
“I mean, are you not going to tell me what you saw?”
“You don’t want to know, Damian,” Your tone was scathing, “I’m not going to force my visions on you too.”
Damian watched you carefully, no doubt seeing your own anger bubbling not far from the surface, “It’s clearly weighing on you, Amira.”
“And you’ve said you don’t want to know the future, that it doesn’t matter,” You answered sharply, “And that so be it, come what may.”
He hesitated to reply long enough that it pressed you to ask, “Do you want to know?”
He looked surprised at your sudden offer, “What?”
“Do you want to know?” You enunciated.
Damian again paused, and you had a rare moment of being able to read his every expression as he struggled with wanting to help you versus his own fear. At last, he blew out a long breath, and his answer was low, almost defeated.
“…No. I don’t.”
You sighed, anger suddenly dissipating, and you sunk lower into the couch cushions.
“Then leave it be, Damian.”
“I’m sorry,” He said quietly.
You knew the second apology was as much for earlier as his inability to help you shoulder the burden of the future. “Don’t be,” You murmured, “You have every right to refuse.”
Things grew less tense after that, and you both soon returned to your usual routines with the apologies out of the way. But you knew that he knew, something was wrong.
Over the next week, you tried desperately to see. Something else. Anything else. There had to be something you could do, some way to change the future you had seen.
Every day as Damian slept, you settled down to meditate, and every day you saw his death in slightly greater detail. It left you feeling volatile and raw, but when he came out after sleeping each day you made sure to greet Damian with a smile, wanting each of his days to be filled with what brightness you could muster.
You could tell Damian was getting more worried about you with each day that passed. He started asking how you had slept in the mornings and watching you eat to make sure you were getting full meals down. You knew you looked like shit; his death had also started to invade your dreams and turn them to nightmares. The lack of sleep combined with the toll of meditating so frequently while still going to different locations to help track the Grey Hawks was ruining you. You forced your enthusiasm up while Damian was around the apartment, but you knew he saw through it to the exhaustion beneath.
After a week of this, you were surprised when he came out after a sleep and announced that he was going to take the night off.
“Night off?” You stared at the determined expression before you, “Seriously?”
Damian just nodded once, “Yep.”
You blinked, stunned, knowing the one night he’d had off was when Dick had basically forced it on him, “Why?”
He shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal.
“I thought we could work our way through some of the older crosswords.”
You stared at him, heart lurching at the surprisingly bare admission that he was taking the night off for you. Well that was desperately sweet.
“I’m okay, Damian,” You tried to reassure him, feeling guilty that your spiralling state was pulling him away from his responsibilities, “You can go on patrol like usual.”
“Well I need the rest,” He said stubbornly, green eyes narrowing, as if he dared you to disagree.
That was bullshit, and you both knew it. But you appreciated the roundabout way he was trying to stay back to hover in any case.
“Jon agreed to cover for me,” Damian continued, “Plus, Dick’s in Blüdhaven tonight, they love working together.”
You swallowed past the far too many emotions that swelled in your chest.
“Well… tell Jon thank you, if he’s not already listening.”
Damian snorted, “I’ve made it very clear he is not to listen into my conversations.”
You cracked a small smile, and you couldn’t help but notice the tension in Damian’s shoulders ease on seeing it.
“Do you think he does anyway?”
“He better not. Because if I find out he does…” Damian trailed off and glared out of the window, as if he could see directly to his best friend from there.
You both spent some hours watching movies, doing crosswords, and you sat down at one point to try your hand at sketching. To your amusement, Damian tried to teach you how to draw a Robin, and you tried very hard to copy his effortless work. Although he seemed pleased with your progress, you thought the poor bird looked a little deranged.
“It looks like it’s had a stroke,” You said, and sat back with a long pause to take in your lopsided bird, trying to turn it every which way to make the drawing look any better, “As well as been hit by a car.”
Sitting closer than usual at your side as he tracked your progress, Damian laughed openly. You beamed at the genuine sound of humour and happiness, and it was your first real smile in days.
But as the night wound down, you found terror creeping up on you. Tonight had been so good, so perfect, and spending time like this with Damian was something you never wanted to end. But if your visions were to be believed, it would end - permanently.
Fear tightened your chest as you considered going to bed alone and letting Damian out of your sight. You didn’t want to do it, not while the threat to his life hung over your head. You hesitated at the entrance to the hallway as you watched him pull out a few blankets to set the couch up for sleep.
“You don’t have to sleep out here.” The words were blurted out before you could stop them.
Damian glanced up at you, shock clear on his face, “What?”
“I…” Words failed you, and you weren’t sure how to explain the sudden desperation not to leave his side. “I don’t want to be alone,” Your admission was quiet.
Bright green eyes blinked at you as they slowly understood your meaning, “Amira…”
“I’m sorry, you don’t have to,” You quickly backtracked as you looked away in embarrassment at your moment of weakness, “I just – I know we’ve slept in the same bed before, but I know it wasn’t exactly your choice – “
“Amira.” Damian interrupted firmly enough that you glanced back around to him. But it was only to find a gentle understanding glowing in his eyes, “It’s okay, I’ll sleep in the bedroom.”
You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling strangely more vulnerable now that he had agreed.
“Thank you,” You attempted a small smile, “I can make another pillow wall if you want?”
He snorted, “As long as you stay on your side, I think we’ll be fine.”
Climbing into bed together was strange, but surprisingly, not awkward. You were just pleased not to have to leave his side, and it gave you a massive degree of relief to be able to hear his gentle breaths in the silence surrounding you both. It both quickened your heartbeat while also helping to settle you that he was near enough that you could feel his body heat warming the sheets. You still couldn’t touch Damian, but it was nice to have him within arm’s reach all the same.
Gathering your courage, you at last whispered into the darkness.
“Damian?”
“Yeah?” His reply was just as quiet.
You swallowed, “Thank you for staying in tonight.”
He probably knew how much it meant, and how much it had helped, but you thought it was important to say anyway. You turned your head towards him and were just able to make out the glint of green across the pillows where he also looked towards you.
“It’s okay.”
“Goodnight.”
You might have seen the small flash of teeth as he smiled.
“Goodnight, Amira.”
Turning over in bed the next morning, you were faced with a still sleeping Damian.
It was almost strange to see his expression so carefree without the usual frown. You were almost more stunned that he trusted you enough to sleep next to you. Steph had mentioned once that Dick had seen it before. And when you had both been sick, you had assumed he had slept a bit, but it was different to finally see for yourself.
Waking up in bed with Damian Wayne was an experience you didn’t think you could ever forget, although it wasn’t for reasons many would assume if told.
His looks were so striking, so blatantly handsome that it almost hurt for you to look at. This man was rich, famous, heir to an empire, a vigilante, an assassin, a hero, and so much more. Who the hell were you, a peasant from Egypt who had found herself homeless again, to wake up in bed next to someone so extraordinary? And yet here you were, the person he had let into his very small circle of trust, and trusted enough to be at his most vulnerable around.
The thought made you want to pull off one of your gloves and trace your fingers over his cheek, his jaw, his lips, to commit them to memory. What you wouldn’t give to be normal and be able to touch someone the way you wanted to. What would it feel like to touch the heavily bronzed skin? Would you be able to feel the barely-there scars, or would they be as smooth as the rest of him? The need was so overwhelming you knew you had to leave before you gave in.
He didn’t stir when you slid carefully out of bed, and that struck you as odd. Either Damian was so attuned to your movements that they were no longer considered abnormal enough for him to wake to, or he had spent much longer awake than you had and was exhausted.
You walked out of the bedroom with increased determination. No matter what it took, you would find out how to save Damian. Robin. Batman.
While he slept, you meditated, and you pushed hard. The vision you saw this time was mostly the same, but ever so slightly blurrier, as if it wasn’t as set as it had been previously. It almost seemed like there was something else to it, something out of reach. But still, you didn’t see what you needed to – a way to change it.
You came out of it dazed and exhausted again but still determined. When Damian came out for breakfast he seemed to note the minor change in your expression, the firmness that hadn’t been there before.
“How are you feeling?” He asked, as he had for the past week.
“Alright,” You said. It had become your go to answer. It wasn’t quite a lie, but it never gave away the depths of your early grief or desperation either.
He made you both coffee and cereal and eventually sat down, watching you carefully as you divided that morning’s paper between you both and started working on the crossword.
“Did you sleep okay?” Damian asked eventually.
“I did, actually,” You smiled slightly, “Did you?”
He just grunted, and only seemed to decide to actually answer when you looked up and raised a brow at him.
“Eventually.”
So he had taken a while to get to sleep. You grimaced, “Sorry if that was my fault.”
“Not at all, I just…” Damian paused and shrugged almost awkwardly, “I’m not used to sleeping with people.”
“Neither” You agreed easily. Looking back down to the crossword to avoid his gaze, you ventured more hesitantly, “It wasn’t bad, though.”
“No,” He admitted quietly, “It wasn’t.” And then he stared at you with as much intensity as he gave to some of his more difficult puzzles, like he was trying to work out just why that was.
You quietly ignored the stare, knowing the flexing jaw meant Damian was just working through things in his head and that if he had questions, he would no doubt voice them.
He didn’t.
You spent a few hours over that morning’s puzzles and finishing off the ones you had been too tired to complete last night. Then you took some time to read through more of your latest book – a romcom recommended by Steph this time – and Damian sat on the lounge floor to clean his weapons. Eventually after completing his task, he excused himself.
“I’m going to try and get a couple more hours sleep before patrol tonight,” He explained.
You looked up from your book, “Are we going to another warehouse tonight?”
He frowned, and you saw his assessing gaze look you up and down.
“Tomorrow night,” He decided at last, “I’m patrolling with Dick tonight.”
You knew that was a lie, and that Damian had taken one look at you and decided you needed another night’s sleep before checking out another warehouse.
You arched a brow his way, “You don’t need to protect me.”
“Conversely,” Damian said dryly, “That’s exactly what I’m here for.”
You rolled your eyes with a small huff and laid back down on the couch to open your book back up, but you didn’t miss the small smirk before Damian turned and went back to bed.
With hours now to yourself, you decided to meditate again. Ryuu, previously asleep on the couch, lifted its head as you lit a candle.
Seer is wearing herself out. It warned.
I know, Ryuu. You sighed as you settled down, full of the new determination you hadn’t possessed yesterday, But I have to save him.
Diving into the meditation, your breaths were quick to even out as darkness fell over you and pulled you under. You had been close to something that morning, you knew it, you just had to push harder. You didn’t often push with visions, you usually let them come to you and flow easily, because they would show you what you needed.
But what you needed was for Damian to survive. And so today, you pushed hard.
To your surprise, an entirely different vision swam before you now, and you were swept into its softness.
At first, you thought you had woken up again in a Groundhog Day type scenario. But while you didn’t recognise the bedsheets or the room, you did recognise the man across from you.
Damian smiled at you, face completely free of frown or scowl, and his expression was instead open and as bright as his smile was. One of his hands reached out, the skin bare, but vision-you didn’t draw away from it. In fact, you leaned into the touch as a warm, calloused hand wound around your bare waist and drew you in tight against his also very bare torso.
Soft, warm lips ducked to brush over yours, and you shivered under his touch as Damian’s rough voice murmured against you.
“Good morning, my love.”
The shock of the vision ripped you away from it, but you only had mere seconds to realise that it had been even blurrier than usual before you were thrust into another vision.
This one you knew, and you started screaming internally long before the shot rang out. You tried to beg Damian to move, to run, so that he might live. But as always your efforts were in vain, the gun went off, and the bullet went through Damian’s heart. He dropped to the ground as your own heart broke all over again.
“No! Please no!”
Again, after so many times, you rushed to his side, dragging his already dead body towards you. Dimly, you noted the vision was sharp and in focus. This future was now closer, more set.
Desperation made your subconscious mind fight, push harder, so hard that even in the vision your breaths started to mist as your power surged.
Look up. You begged yourself. Just look up.
You did, and you were able to get a quick glance at a hanging walkway and a man kneeling on it with rifle sighted up on Damian before the vision fell away.
You snapped back into reality with a harsh, ragged breath in. Opening your eyes, you saw the windows across from you were frosted over and condensation had started to bead on the walls. Although the temperature was climbing back up now, you had clearly delved so deep into your power that you’d had more of an effect on the environment than normal.
“Amira?”
Jerking your head around, you saw Damian standing at the entrance into the lounge, clearly drawn out of bed by your surge of power and doing a poor job of masking his concern.
You were entirely unprepared to see the subject of your visions standing before you looking so unlike how you had seen him in either of them. With a start, you realised you had been granted two different visions for a reason. Two futures. Two possibilities.
In one, you were shown a life with Damian; a Damian who loved you. Who could somehow touch you without triggering a vision. Who was open and happy and unafraid to reach for you.
In another, far more likely future, his death. A life without any of the love or care he could give. A life without him.
Staring out at the Damian you knew now, looking unsure and worried, grief tore you in two.
“Oh, hey.”
And then you burst into tears.
You heard a low curse from Damian as you hunched over yourself and buried your face in your hands as you sobbed. You couldn’t begin to explain the extreme grief at a loss that hadn’t happened yet. You had seen his death, but not only that, the loss of a life at his side – not just protecting him like you had thought you were destined for, but with him. This was a man you now realised would one day love you in a way you had never before experienced, or would die before either of you ever had the chance to realise it.
“Amira? Hey, it’s okay.”
Damian was clearly alarmed at your unrestrained tears, his hands hovered over you as if looking for a way to help, but they didn’t land. But you knew nothing would ever be okay again, not if you didn’t figure out a way to stop this. He ended up sighing heavily and shuffling around to sit next to you in solidarity. He still didn’t touch you, but he sat far closer than he had ever dared get before so casually.
It took a long time, but eventually your heaving sobs dried up into smaller sniffles and silently leaking tears. To your surprise, Damian passed you a handkerchief.
With a sniff, you glanced aside.
“Did you just have that on you?” You rasped.
Damian shrugged a shoulder, “Habit from father,” He explained quietly. “You never know when someone will need it.”
You gave a watery laugh and wiped at your eyes before blowing your nose.
“Do… you want to talk about it?”
His hesitant words now were a reflection of your offer weeks ago when you were asking after him. But you remembered Damian’s much more recent, steadfast refusal to know the future. You wouldn’t burden him with what you had seen, not when you knew he didn’t really want to know.
“No,” You declined quietly, “Thank you.”
Damian shifted slightly in place so he was facing you. He ducked his head so he could look up into your tearstained face.
“You don’t have to do this alone.”
You looked away, unable to hold the emerald gaze that would one day look at you with love... or a terrible glazed stillness of death.
“Don’t I?”
There was a short sigh, “I don’t want to know the future,” Damian said firmly, “But that doesn’t change that no matter what comes, we’ll face it together.”
Together. The word danced glimpses of white sheets, a blinding smile, and the ghost of lips against yours through your mind. Holding those images close to your heart, you finally found the strength to look back around at him to see a fierce determination in the expression before you.
“Okay.”
Together.
No matter what you had to do to ensure it, Damian would not die.
Chapter 20: Ambush
Notes:
Hello all! Bit of chatter before we get into this
I'm dropping four (4!) chapters at once because I'm heading overseas for a few weeks, so I've decided to dump all the angst at once! That way you can get through it all in one sitting, or spread it out if it's a bit much:)
I get back mid October and I promise I will make everything better then and we will get right back into the fluffier stuff <3
Just a reminder, this is a happy ending fic and it all works out for Damian and Amira!!
With that said...
TW for this chapter: main character death (but not really)As always, take care of yourselves, and thank you all so much for the kudos and comments letting me know your thoughts!! <3
Ok, here we go
Chapter Text
AMIRA
Bringing you through each abandoned and cleared location the Grey Hawks had once inhabited was yielding far more results than either you or Damian had predicted.
Surprisingly, one of the ghosts you had pulled in one of the last locations had been a disgruntled hired gun who had worked just under the top level of the gang. He had been all too happy to spout of a large list of names of people who could either help, or who were likely to squeal if the Bats approached them, and he also contributed to the ever-growing list of locations of interest.
The number of ghosts you were seeing that offered their help was growing, and with some of their suggestions, that number increased even further. You now had at least fifty ghosts that wanted to help take down the Grey Hawks. How you were going to use their help in a way other than just using their information, you weren’t quite sure, but you did have some ideas starting to form.
While the gang had been making its mark on the city by starting to take over a lot of the drug operations and weapons smuggling that weren’t already monopolised by the larger players of Gotham, they were making themselves very unpopular by doing so.
Damian was now feeding a large number of locations, names, and stockpiles back to Dick who was passing it onto the larger team. It meant the other vigilantes were working through the Grey Hawks resources at an unprecedented rate, setting a fire under the ass of the gang.
Some of the locations they were now going to looked more hastily abandoned than the others, and the other Bats were starting to capture a number of gang members and associates. Gotham PDs cells were quickly filling up, and the officers there were only too happy to accommodate the Bats as they put away one of the largest and most violent gangs in Gotham.
Numerous busts of members and active factories and storage facilities had now been undertaken. Dick had passed on with glee that a key member of the leadership ring had now been captured, someone who knew Carbine Slater directly.
“He’s a slippery man, I’ll give him that,” Dick had said as he stood in the lounge one evening before heading out to meet with Jason for patrol. “Slater hasn’t got much physical presence apparently, he’s all brains. He has a loyal circle of five that report directly to him, and they’re the only people that even know what he looks like.”
Damian was rubbing at his jaw as he thought. He stood in full Robin gear, you two were both ready to head out to a new location to investigate.
“That makes him even more dangerous,” He said, “No wonder the Grey Hawks have been so difficult to track, they’ve got someone actually smart at the helm.”
“Good thing we’ve got an underdog,” Dick winked your way before becoming serious again, “They have to have noticed by now that we’re finding them anyway though.”
Damian nodded, glancing your way.
“We’re being even more careful. They may suspect the Deathweaver has joined the search, but they can’t be sure until they’ve seen her. As far as they know, she’s still in deep hiding.”
“All the same, stay alert,” Dick sighed, “There’s only so many excuses I can make as to where I’m getting all this new information. Jason has already guessed you’re in on it, Amira.”
You couldn’t imagine that would be much of a problem, still… “Will he say something?”
Damian snorted, “If there’s anything we can rely on Jason for, it’s to do whatever will piss off father the most.”
Dick smiled but didn’t disagree, “He won’t say anything.”
You hummed as you thought, “Do we know anything else about Slater?”
“Not really,” Dick admitted, “Brainy, used to be a military type, dishonourably discharged. Since then working on his own empire here in Gotham.”
“It does tell us that he is the key though,” Damian mused, “Sure we can take out his leadership, but even if we take down the inner circle, he can just build another. We have to get to him.”
“I agree,” A small beep came from Dick’s wrist. “Look, I have to go. You kids be safe.”
Damian levelled a sharp glare his way for that, but you smiled easily.
“Bye, Dick. Have a good night.”
“I knew I liked you,” Dick grinned as he headed out the door, his voice fading as he walked away, “Like a balm next to Damian’s grumpy exterior…”
Damian scowl deepened, so you poked your tongue out at him, startling him enough that the expression softened.
“Come on,” He grumbled, “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”
The location you were checking out tonight was an empty storage warehouse at the Gotham Docks. On arriving, you saw it was little more than a large shed, but you still approached cautiously.
Damian flicked on his torch once you made it inside and you both checked out the building.
“Tim and Jason checked this one over,” He said, “A relatively easy find, it’s location was written on some papers found in the last place.” The torch beam swept over multiple empty crates. “They’re pretty sure it was only used for storage, but it’s worth a quick check.”
Walking around after Damian, you couldn’t feel any subtle tingles that suggested there might be something here for you. But lately, you wouldn’t be surprised if elusive and indistinct feelings like that were smothered by the warning that continuously pricked down your spine. Even Ryuu looked bored, padding around slowly with only an odd sniff here and there, as if there were no interesting smells to keep the familiar entertained with checking out more thoroughly.
You made your way to the centre of the building.
“I don’t think this will take long.”
Damian nodded and took a few steps closer as he usually did before you started to meditate. You weren’t sure if he did it because he wanted to be close in case anything happened while you were out, or if it was unspoken reassurance after he realised how vulnerable you were during it.
Either way, it was nice to have him close.
Closing your eyes, you slowed your breaths and let the world fall away.
Your visions always started with Damian’s death, as if some higher power was ensuring you saw it, saw the clarity and urgency of the vision. As with each time you saw him fall and dragged his body into your arms, your heart broke once more. Eventually this vision fell away and afforded you a glimpse into the place you currently were.
There were small flashes of men at work, loading large crates on and off ships and bringing them into this space to be unpacked and loaded instead onto non-descript trucks. The flashes of sight were short and blurred. Not important then.
But the clarity that came with meditation afforded you a glimpse into something you hadn’t noticed before behind the cold crawl of warning constantly present in your body – something foreign that drew you towards it.
Rising out of the vision, you blinked open your eyes, noting the draw to something else was still there.
“Welcome back.”
Damian was crouched down next to you. You slowly turned your head towards him as you started to unfold yourself and stretch out.
The usual slight rasp to your voice post-vision was there as you asked, “Was I out long?”
“Maybe thirty minutes.”
“There’s nothing for us here, but…” You hesitated, unsure how to describe the pull to something elsewhere.
Damian frowned as he stood, “What is it?”
You scrambled up at his side, looking towards one wall as if you could see through it to whatever was calling you on, “There’s something else, a few buildings over.”
“Do you know what?”
“No.” You only knew that a thread of destiny drew you onwards.
He seemed uncertain, “This is the only location we know of in the docks.”
“Can we check it out?” You only pushed because whatever drew you on felt important, like you needed to be there. While you were concerned about the foreign feel to whatever drew you towards it, you couldn’t ignore the pull of destiny.
Damian watched you, working his jaw, but eventually gave in.
“Alright, only since we’re here. But carefully.”
You were both very careful as you slipped out of the building you were in and slunk further down the row of warehouses left empty and dark on the unused portion of the docks. There was nothing that stood out to you as different or strange about the large warehouse you finally stopped in front of, but the draw towards it was certainly strong.
“Is this it?” Damian asked.
“Yeah.”
He turned towards you slightly, “And you don’t know why we’re here?”
You bit your lip, hating that you were unable to place the odd draw. It was almost like a foreign power signature, but that was impossible, this place was long abandoned.
“No.”
Damian was clearly unhappy that he didn’t know what you were both walking into, but he huffed shortly before turning back around, “Fine, stay behind me.”
Slowly and silently entering the building, you both stepped inside and into a corridor that seemed to wrap around the outer of the building. Through some double doors, you found yourselves in a larger space.
The ceiling was low around the edges, and thick pillars were dotted around the sides to hold it up. But in the middle, a massive rectangle was cut out and housed a number of long tables, empty crates, and dusty equipment. You had clearly stumbled upon an unused factory of some sort.
Damian moved forward and out into the space, but you stayed back along the edge of the room under the overhang. You stretched out your senses, trying to pinpoint where the foreign power you had felt was.
A sudden icy warning raced down your spine. It was sharp, urgent, and had you freezing in place with a gasp. Staring around in alarm, you soon caught Damian’s eye. He had no doubt heard your gasp, and had stopped slightly out into the factory to look back at you questioningly.
“Something’s wrong.”
Your urgent whisper was drowned out by the first gunshot.
Damian dived at you as the shot rang out and bundled you into the cover of a massive pillar that protected you both from the next multiple shots. Your heart had kickstarted into a racing rhythm, which only worsened when you saw the bullet had caught the edge of one of the arms that now caged you protectively against the pillar. His skin had been split and blood was starting to leak from the wound.
“Damian – “
But he was already speaking over you, snapping orders while simultaneously drawing his katana and readying himself for battle.
“Stay out of sight,” His voice was low and harsh as he pressed the distress button on his gauntlet that would signal Dick, “If they don’t know you’re here we need to keep it that way. Only use your powers if you have to.”
“Where did he go?”
Muffled voices sounded from further away as the gunfire behind you paused.
“Get down there and flush him out!”
Damian made to step away from you and out of cover, but your hands came up of their own accord to grip at his cape and hold him in place as terror for him gripped your chest tightly.
“Please be careful,” You breathed, desperate to ask him to stay but knowing it wasn’t possible.
You weren’t sure how much of your concern was showing in your face, but with the threat of your recent visions hanging over you, it was probably a lot. Damian’s severe expression softened slightly as he looked down at you, and to your shock, one of his gloved hands came up to ghost over the edge of your jaw in a barely-there caress.
“Only because you asked.”
You had only a moment to see the handsome face quirk up into a smirk, and then he was gone.
“There he is!”
“Shoot him!”
You cringed as the sound of gunfire resumed, but it was quickly followed by shouts and cries of pain as Robin no doubt threw himself into the fray. Deciding you should move and try and find better cover than the pillar you were behind, you peeked out to make sure no one was looking your way, then crept out and hurried through into the shadow of a large crate to one side.
Only letting out the breath you had held when no shouts of discovery followed your move, you glanced out of your new hiding place to take in the scene before you.
At least ten people dressed in the signature dark grey of the Grey Hawks surrounded Damian, many held guns, but at least were holding off from shooting because their target fought so closely in the midst of their men. You weren’t sure you had ever before been able to appreciate how Damian fought, and the sight was nothing less than a showcase of a level of skill you had never thought possible.
He flipped over the heads of two men who ran at him, somehow at the same time lashing out with a kick that sent one unconscious to the ground. Before he even seemed to land, he was slicing out with his katana to cut several guns pointed his way in half, and with the other hand he threw a handful of batarangs into the limbs of other assailants. They each stumbled back with loud cries, immediately backing off as they tried to pull the sharp objects from their skin.
He used the tables and equipment around him to his advantage, putting them between him and most of his assailants so he only had to deal with a couple at a time. The Grey Hawk’s were good, but one on one, they were no match for Robin. Unfortunately, the sheer number of them was quickly becoming apparent.
You stifled a gasp when a lucky hit meant Damian was punched hard across the face, but his only reaction was to turn with the punch and come back around with a devastating backhand that caused the crack of breaking bone to echo above the shouts and sounds of battle.
The bullet wound hadn’t seemed to slow him down at all, and he seemed as steady and as sure of himself in combat as he was with everything else. Beside him, Ryuu was throwing itself into the fight with enthusiasm, taking the form of the large black wolf it had used previously and leaping from person to person to maul them just enough to get them out of the fight before moving onto the next. It seemed your familiar was now taking Damian’s ‘no killing’ rule to heart.
As masterfully as Damian was kicking ass, you noticed movement at the edges of the building and your stomach dropped as you recognised many more gang members were filtering into the massive space. Most of them started to line the walls and join the fight against Robin and the enormous wolf, but you noticed one run towards the back of the building.
Pulling back and darting to the other end of the crate you were sheltering behind, you tracked the man’s movements to see him starting to run up metal steps that led to a hanging walkway that overlooked the factory floor. As you watched, he pulled a large rifle into his hands and slammed a fresh magazine into it as he climbed.
Fear like you had never felt in your life stole your breath as all of a sudden, you recognised the scene before you.
The hanging walkway.
Damian fighting below.
A man above about to bring his rifle around to centre on him.
“No.”
Your broken protest was little more than a whisper spoken to the air. This was it. This was where Damian died.
But you wouldn’t allow that future to come to pass.
Your body was moving before your mind had truly caught up, and you ran out of cover and charged up the steps on this side of the walkway as fast as you could. Watching as you went, you saw the man had already reached his spot and was bringing his rifle up to point down at Damian, who was unaware of the danger lurking above him.
You made it up onto the walkway when you saw the man breathe out and his finger start to tighten on the trigger. In desperation, you flung your powers out towards him, grabbing hard at the glowing tether before you and smothering it as the surrounding temperature plummeted.
The gun went off as the man cried out and fell to his knees, and you watched in horror as Damian grunted in pain as the bullet hit him.
In the arm. It hit him in the arm.
Damian turned with the impact, swinging around to face the new threat, and he looked up to lock his startled gaze on you.
Alive, he was alive. The relief of the moment was astounding, and you turned back to the man who was gasping on his knees, still clutching the rifle. This was the man that would have killed Damian, who would have killed someone so special, so important, caused so many to mourn, and would have lost you the chance at being loved by someone. Fury turned your vision red.
Don’t kill him, Damian wouldn’t want you to kill him.
As you hesitated, struggling against your rage, something sharp and invasive sliced into your mind, causing you to flinch and drop your hold on the man as you recoiled from the feeling. You were quick to identify the foreign magic attempting to wriggle through your mind, and your powers isolated and destroyed it with minimal effort.
The slip of control over the man cost you, because as soon as he felt the hold on him slip, the rifle turned your way and fired.
“Amira!”
The horrified shout came from below, but was drowned out by the rushing in your ears as agony ripped through your stomach. You think you might have tried to scream, but you had no breath left with which to do so. You didn’t remember falling, but somehow you ended up on the ground, bracing yourself on your knees and one hand as the other came up to clutch at your abdomen.
It was hard to even breathe, your gasps were broken and half-formed. Sound came from somewhere near your head, and two boots swum into view through your blurred vision.
“The Deathweaver.”
The man’s voice was triumphant, and you struggled to look up through the haze of pain that had overtaken your body. You saw his rifle pointed directly at your face and behind it, a cruel smile. Trying to summon up some form of your powers to protect yourself, there was little more than a misted breath before you, and then another sharp spear of some unknown power through your mind put an end to what little concentration you could muster.
“Slater wants you alive, but I think you’re far too dangerous for that.” The man cocked the rifle, bringing it up to centre on your forehead. “Time to truly join the dead.”
“No!”
A dark shape sliced into the man’s hands, opening a large wound and sending the rifle spinning out of his grip. He staggered backwards with a loud curse, and the next moment Ryuu was there, and massive jaws tore into him, cutting off a bloodcurdling scream with little effort.
The true form of your familiar was nothing less than terrifying, and it was rage and fear that drove Ryuu to adopt it now, no doubt feeling the grievousness of your wound through your bond. Screams of terror began to echo through the space as an enormous, snake like dragon with massive teeth and horns turned towards them and began a true massacre of those left standing.
Gasping in a breath, you turned towards the malicious, laughing presence you felt to your right, and you looked out across the building to see a hooded figure standing tall on a second hanging walkway.
“Ryuu,” Your croak of your familiar’s name was barely a whisper, so you gave up and said the rest in through your bond, There is a sorcerer here, a mind-flayer. They laid the trap.
You understood now, how the same unrestrained power that had led the ghosts to Blüdhaven after you, had also led the Grey Hawks here via this sorcerer. The trap had been simple and brilliant, meant to take you alive, if not for the betrayal of the man that Ryuu had just torn in two.
The silent, gleeful laughter of the sorcerer turned to abject terror as the ancient dragon turned suddenly and raced towards them. You felt the flare of their attempt to use their powers against Ryuu, but there was no defence against an eldritch being of such power. They were quickly ripped to shreds.
Allowing your head to drop again, you took a shuddering breath in, but you were unable to get any sort of control over the excruciating pain radiating through your abdomen. All you knew was the burning of your body from within, and you were entirely unable to move with it until you heard your name called again from somewhere close to you.
“Amira?”
Damian’s voice was full of fear, an emotion you weren’t sure you had ever heard from him before. As he reached you, hands pulled at your shoulders until you were laying back against one of his legs. The movement itself was agonising, and a cry pulled from your lips as the pain surged.
A muffled curse sounded above you, and you felt your hands be pulled away from the warm and sticky mess that you covered.
“I have to have a look,” Damian warned you.
You nodded, only able to get out a breathy, “Yeah.” The bottom of your top was lifted as you blinked rapidly, desperately trying to focus on the face above you. There was a small hiss from him, and then a hand came down hard on the wound, shooting intense pain through you that caused you to cry out again.
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Damian’s voice was strained, and you heard the small beep of a button near your head. “Robin here, I need immediate medevac.” He sounded shaken, when did he ever sound shaken? “Code black. Blood on standby.”
The murmur of a reply that you didn’t catch came through.
You attempted a smile that came out as a grimace, but you hoped to reassure Damian as best you could, “That bad, huh?”
So much for reassurance, your voice rasped with so much pain that you saw his wince. He didn’t answer you directly, and that said enough.
“Let’s get you out of here.”
You moaned when he picked you up, the movement only aggravating your wound, but Damian kept you close against him, making sure his hand was pushed against your stomach throughout. The pain was enough that it swept you under, and you lost grip on your surroundings.
“Amira?” Damian’s harsh order brought you back. You blinked your eyes open to see the blur of him above you. Were you outside now? “Stay with me.”
You tried to answer, and it came out a whisper, “Yep.”
Damian looked suddenly around to one side, “Here they are.”
You weren’t quite sure what was going on, but you did know that being picked up again made the pain so bad that it sent you straight back under. Trying to breathe through the burning was near impossible, and you felt each breath drag up your throat harshly. You were only vaguely aware of the conversations around you as you were laid quickly back down.
“Gunshot wound to the abdomen.”
Movement over your stomach made you groan aloud.
“Alright, let’s go.”
“Let go of your girlfriend, Damian, I need her arm.”
Pressure on one of your arms brought you back, and you blinked hard to try and clear your gaze as you looked over. You were surprised to find yourself face to face with Jason.
“It’s just us,” He reassured as he felt your pulse. Looking past him, you saw you were in a car, and Dick was in the driver’s seat.
You almost missed Jason’s hushed aside to Damian, “She’s not doing well.”
“Amira,” The choked sound of Damian’s voice turned your head back his way, and you were at first pleased to realise you could actually see him. You were less pleased that his expression was so pained.
“What were you thinking?” He gritted out.
You tried to take a deep breath, but that hurt too much, so you tried to take smaller ones between every few words. “It would have… killed…you.”
Damian frowned as he started to echo you, “Would’ve killed – what?” Then you saw the dawning, appalled realisation of what you meant, “That’s what you’ve been seeing.”
You were so exhausted; it was so hard to get words out. But not replying seemed to be all he needed.
“At least you know you’re going to survive this,” The words were so demanding it was almost said as a threat, “Because you’ve seen it. Right?”
Trying to take a breath to answer was even harder now, and you felt warm, viscous liquid bubbling up your throat, halting any words forming. Damian was watching you carefully, looking angrier and more agitated by the second.
“Amira!” He gripped your shoulder as he all but shouted at you, “Tell me you didn’t take a fucking bullet for me without knowing you’d survive it.”
A quiet, tense warning came from the front, “Damian…”
But the man above you was ripping one bloodied glove from a hand, and holding it close to the skin of your face.
“Have a vision,” Damian demanded, all but begging you, “Tell me you’ll be okay.”
You forced a few more words out, “…Too weak for a vision, Damian.”
The effort would kill you faster than the gunshot would. You could feel your bond to Ryuu weakening, could feel your familiar’s anger and terror surge from afar as it recognised the same. And your own tether that bound you to this life, once as bright and brilliant as Damian’s, was growing thready and weak as your body faltered.
Gods, you wished more than anything you could soothe the panic that was written across his face. And Gods, you wished you had been able to see the bright green of his eyes one last time, or feel what it was like to have him lay that trembling hand against your cheek instead of yanking it away and dragging it through his hair. The action left a smear of your blood over his forehead.
“Fuck. Fuck!” Damian still sounded angry, “Why would you do that?”
“I… have… faith.”
“Faith in what?” Damian all but spat the words at you, but the look on his face was all despair and fear and loss, “Your gods?”
“Faith,” You breathed in one last time, “In you.”
You couldn’t hold your eyes open any more, couldn’t suck in any more breaths.
“Amira? Amira!” Damian’s desperate voice broke, and your heart broke with it.
You wished you could have said… You wished that he…
But then
You
Died.
Chapter 21: In Your Corner
Notes:
2/4
I'M SORRY OKAY???
I would like to draw your attention to the number of remaining chapters and assure you that Amira is not dead
Now let's have Damian's POV so that it hurts more :}
Chapter Text
DAMIAN
There were too many gang members trying to kill him for Damian to allow his focus to slip for even a second. He hoped like hell that Amira had got to somewhere relatively safe or out of sight, because himself and Ryuu were in the thick of it.
He lashed out with punches, kicks, and every weapon he had at his disposal in a deadly dance that took down those that had made the mistake of getting within his range. Those outside his immediate range were being quickly picked off by Ryuu, the massive black wolf seeming to get some savage satisfaction from making the stragglers run in fear before the familiar pounced.
Damian didn’t want to be pessimistic, but there were a lot of people here intent on killing him. He had pressed the distress beacon early and had already had confirmation that Dick and Jason were responding towards him in the Batmobile. How Dick had scored it for the night was beyond him, but Damian was glad they were on their way.
This was not a fight he wanted to keep going for any length of time, because the longer he fought, the more hits slipped in. A punch to his face, a kick to his ribs, and not to mention the burning wound on his arm where he had already been grazed by the first bullet.
But then something happened that changed things, a sudden, substantial drop in temperature that was enough to make everyone but Damian and Ryuu hesitate. His heart rate increased anyway, because it meant that somewhere, Amira was having to use her –
“Ugh!”
Damian jerked forward as a bullet smacked into the back of his arm. But he turned with the sudden bite of pain, looking for the source as Ryuu quickly stepped closer to defend his back. He looked up, and his gaze collided with a furious, desperate blue.
Amira stood on a long metal walkway that spanned the length of the building a few metres above his head, one hand outstretched towards a gasping man who was on his knees and holding a rifle, no doubt the one which had fired the bullet. She looked angrier than he had ever seen her, and the shadows around her seemed to roll in response to her fury, but she appeared thankfully unharmed. However as Damian watched, she suddenly jerked her head back as if she’d been hit, and the outstretched hand lowered.
The next moments seemed to happen in slow motion, with Damian completely unable to stop them.
A gang member came at him from the side, forcing him to turn and deftly move around the punch before driving the man into the ground, and when he looked back up, the man with the rifle was bringing his weapon up to point it directly at the distracted woman across from him.
Damian reached for a batarang far too late; the rifle went off.
“Amira!” His shout echoed off the walls, and then he was moving, breaking free of the clustered group of gang members, desperate to reach Amira even as he watched her stagger back, then fall to her hands and knees. She didn’t even scream.
Beside him, Ryuu stopped in place and howled, but the sound was deafening, and somehow grew as it changed into a furious, ground shaking roar.
As Damian ran, fighting people off as he struggled to get through, the man on the walkway now stood and approached Amira, saying words Damian couldn’t hear as he brought his rifle up again to aim point blank at her face. Fear almost stopped his heart as Amira was barely able to raise her head to watch her death coming.
“No!”
Damian threw his batarang as hard and fast as he could, taking a harsh punch to the face for his distraction, but it got there mere seconds before Ryuu did. The rifle was knocked aside just before the familiar exploded.
A mass of midnight, oscillating shadows erupted in the middle of the room where the large wolf had stood moments before, and something truly massive burst out of them aiming directly at the man now clutching at his wounded hand. Damian was only able to get a vague sense of a monster of epic proportions with huge teeth and talons before he was racing up the stairs two at a time to Amira’s side.
She hadn’t moved, and Damian was alarmed to see the steady leaking of blood coming from between her fingers as she stayed hunched over.
“Amira?”
His hands actually shook as he knelt and reached for her and guided her back so she sat half-upright against one of his legs. Her face was drawn and pale, and her eyelashes fluttered as she seemed to struggle to focus. Damian’s stomach dropped as he pulled at her hands where they covered the wound. Even without assessing it properly, he could tell it was bad.
Once so against going anywhere near her skin, Damian knew it was all out the window now. “I have to have a look,” He warned.
There was a vague nod, and Amira’s reply was already far weaker than he was comfortable with, “Yeah.”
Pulling the bottom of her shirt up just exposed how messy and ragged the wound was, and Damian sucked in a breath as he saw the amount of blood that was already saturating her clothes and the ground beneath her. Shit, this was really not good. He replaced Amira’s gloved hands with his own, pressing hard. She cried out in pain, head tipping back and face twisting. The sound tore at Damian’s chest, but he knew he had to try and control the bleeding somehow.
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” He apologised uselessly as he keyed into the emergency beacon at his wrist. While he had keyed his distress beacon to go to Dick only, the emergency one would open a channel to everyone. “Robin here, I need immediate medevac,” He took a shaky breath, “Code black. Blood on standby.”
Code black: the top level of urgency, reserved for life and death situations only.
To his relief, Dick’s voice came through quickly, “We’re just around the corner.”
“That bad, huh?” Amira’s weak voice caused Damian to look back down to her. She was attempting to smile, but it was a poor attempt. He swallowed, because it really was that bad.
“Let’s get you out of here,” He said instead, lifting her to his chest.
He all but ran from the building, thankfully not having to dodge gang members trying to take him down, because they were far too busy running from a rampaging Ryuu. The dragon was no longer pulling back from taking the lives of those around it, but Damian couldn’t bring himself to care. As Damian made it out to the street outside, he set Amira down again and was alarmed to note she had gone limp in his grip.
“Amira?” Fear made his voice harsh, “Stay with me.”
Those pale eyes made an effort to look blearily upwards, but Damian wasn’t sure she saw him at all.
“Yep.”
A car screeching around a nearby corner made Damian look up, and he was desperately relieved to see it was the Batmobile that raced to a sudden halt next to him.
“Here they are,” He relayed to Amira, but she didn’t react to his words. In fact, she went limp again as he picked her up once more and leapt into the opened hood of the car. Settling Amira down on the backseat so her head was in his lap, Damian quickly relayed the basics through to his brothers.
“Gunshot wound to the abdomen.”
He pulled aside his hands just long enough for Dick and Jason to get a good look at the injury, and both of them went from an expression of acute concern to blank masks. Damian recognised the change, had done the same thing many times himself. When things got too serious, you had to cut yourself off in order to work to your best ability.
Dick immediately turned around in the driver’s seat, keying the hood back over them, “Alright, let’s go.” He shoved his foot down on the accelerator and the Batmobile shot away and down the street.
Jason was crouching at Amira’s other side in the back with him, and Damian saw he already had an IV and fluids set up and ready to go. “Let go of your girlfriend, Damian, I need her arm.” What would usually be a teasing comment from Jason was flat, but Damian was so focussed on Amira that he let it go without second thought.
At the new voice, Amira stirred and turned her head across to look first at Jason, then Dick.
“It’s just us,” Jason reassured, quickly commandeering her arm and starting to get IV access. They both watched as Amira blinked slowly, heavily, and Jason paused to reach down to feel her pulse. He glanced back up to Damian, expression tight.
“She’s not doing well,” He kept his voice low.
Damian knew that. But the confirmation was enough to tighten his chest as he gazed down at the gravelly injured woman in his arms.
“Amira,” He almost choked on her name, but the tightness in his chest was quickly giving way to anger, the only emotion he could rely on in situations like these, “What were you thinking?”
The sound of his voice seemed to focus her slightly, because when she looked at him this time, Damian thought she might of actually seen through the glazed pain.
“It would have…” Her breaths were harsh and ragged, and at each one, Damian was terrified there wouldn’t be another, “Killed…you.”
“Would’ve killed – what?” But then Damian realised, and he was aghast to finally figure out that the future Amira had been so torn up about, so desperate to see more of, had been his death. “That’s what you’ve been seeing.”
Amira didn’t reply, and the lack of response was all the confirmation he needed.
“At least you know you’re going to survive this,” He demanded, because she had to survive it. After all that meditation and sleepless nights, after how hard she had pushed herself, she had to have been able to see a way out of it. “Because you’ve seen it. Right?”
She opened her mouth, but she still didn’t answer, and Damian realised with growing horror that she didn’t know the outcome. Suddenly the seriousness of the situation crashed over him. There was no safety net, no vision promising her survival; this was a critical wound, pure and simple, and Amira was bleeding out in front of him.
“Amira!” Damian was aware he was being far too harsh for someone so badly injured, but fear and panic were clogging his throat, “Tell me you didn’t take a fucking bullet for me without knowing you’d survive it.”
He half-saw Dick’s warning glance back at him in the mirror, but the warning was tempered with heavy understanding, “Damian…”
But he was ripping one of the gloves off a hand, holding it close to Amira’s face in offering, begging her with his eyes to lean into him.
“Have a vision,” He ordered, “Tell me you’ll be okay.”
There was a small sigh between her ragged breaths, “…Too weak for a vision, Damian.”
She was weak, she was too weak. Amira was losing far too much blood despite Damian’s steady hand against the wound, and he knew the worst of the injury was inside her, where only surgery could fix it.
“Fuck. Fuck!” There was nothing Damian could do. He was losing her, and he had never felt so helpless in his life. Panic and fear were emotions he didn’t have much experience with at all, but he was feeling the full brunt of them both pressing on him now. He didn’t understand. What had gone so wrong?
“Why would you do that?” His question rasped, full of pain and a much sharper, early grief.
“I… have… faith.” Amira’s words were barely there, and she was struggling for each breath.
“Faith in what?” Damian spat out the words, his fear on seeing her weaken beneath him almost overwhelming, “Your gods?”
He had to lean in to even hear her answer, and her last words were little more than a breath that tickled into his hair.
“Faith… in you.” Her blue eyes fluttered closed, and they didn’t open again.
Damian felt his breaths hitch, “Amira?” He called. She didn’t answer, and when he gripped her shoulder to shake her, she didn’t rouse at all. “Amira!”
Jason was feeling her pulse again, and the expression on his face wasn’t a good one. Damian looked across the car to his last hope.
“Dick!”
Dick’s posture was all tension in the front seat, and he was driving like a maniac, “We’re less than two minutes out.”
“It’s not going to be enough,” Jason’s words were bitten out, as if he hated himself for saying them.
Damian’s heart stopped, and time seemed to suddenly stand still.
“What?”
Jason looked up at Damian, and he was terrified to recognise the expression on his face as empathy. “She’s crashing,” Jason explained, “Her heart rate is plummeting.”
No. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.
Damian stared down at Amira’s face, hearing Dick’s words from the front as if they were coming from underwater.
“You there Tim?” There was a short pause where Damian heard an affirmative, “Let them know we’re likely coming in under CPR.”
There was a harsh intake of breath before Tim came back on, voice strained, “Is – is Damian – “
Dick was quick to cut in, gaze flashing up to catch his in the mirror, “It’s not Damian.”
Damian suddenly realised that the others had thought the Code Black had been for him. He stared down at Amira’s beautiful, pale face, and wished it would have been.
“I’ll let the others know,” Tim said, and the call was disconnected.
“Damian,” Jason’s sudden change in tone had him jerking his attention back his way. Jason stared at him, eyes hard and mouth a thin line, “We need to start compressions.”
He looked down and saw what Jason had. Amira wasn’t breathing.
No, please no.
But his body was moving before his mind caught up, swinging him around in the car so he straddled Amira’s legs and his hands could start to come down on her chest in a steady rhythm. It was almost an out of body experience, having to count each compression and feel ribs breaking under his hands, all while he stared at the slack face of the only woman he had ever laughed with, slept in the same bed with, made coffee for, who asked after him, who made him smile…
It felt like both seconds and hours before the Batmobile suddenly screeched to a halt and Dick was popping the top hood again, “We’re here.”
There was a small crowd surrounding the car, but Damian only recognised Tim’s voice.
“Pass her up.”
Jason and Tim both lifted Amira out from under him and out of the car. She was passed straight out onto a stretcher and was suddenly being whisked away from him, the small crowd of medical professionals following and shouting orders as they all bundled through the doors into the facility and out of sight.
The room suddenly felt much smaller, and Damian vaguely recognised the place as the spacious garage under Leslie’s clinic that the vigilantes came and went through. Off to one side stood a quietly crying Stephanie, next to her stood Cass. Both were in full costume having clearly come in from patrol themselves, but they kept their distance.
Damian just sat back on the car seat and stared down at his hands, one gloved and one bare, both saturated with Amira’s blood. There wasn’t anything to do now but stare. If he tried to do anything else that would mean he would have to think. And he couldn’t do that right now.
He vaguely heard the driver’s door close, and then Dick was approaching Damian from the side of the car. His expression was all empathy and concern.
“She’s going straight to surgery, Dami. She’s strong, she can still pull through.”
Damian just stared up at him, because that was all he could do while he felt his chest caving in. Dick swallowed hard.
“It’ll… be a while. You should shower, or change.”
Right, all the blood. But it didn’t seem to matter to him if he did change or not, Damian couldn’t imagine ever looking at his hands and not seeing them stained red.
“Damian?”
He couldn’t even look up at his brother again, couldn’t bear to see the understanding and regret shining in his eyes.
“Or you can wait in the family room, if you want?” Dick seemed to be struggling for words, “I’m sure Leslie won’t mind.”
Suddenly, the ground trembled. Then the entire garage shook, which was soon followed up by a deafening, ear-splitting roar of something ancient and terrible. Dick stumbled back in shock, and Stephanie and Cass in the corner raced over to join them and set up in fighting stances.
“What is that?” Stephanie gasped, staring around for the source of the sound as it got closer.
But Cass’ hand rose, and she silently pointed to the entrance of the garage as it was suddenly smashed in by an enormous, writhing creature that bellowed and snapped at its surroundings.
“Holy shit.”
Dick’s stunned exclamation was enough for the monster to narrow in on the small group and start to charge them, snorting strange black flames and roaring all the way. Damian leapt out of the car, planting himself directly in the beast’s path, knowing all the fighting skills in the world wouldn’t be a match for it.
“That’s enough, Ryuu.” He ordered, voice firm.
On seeing him, the charging creature came up short, skidding to a scrabbly halt along the smooth ground. It was only as it stopped that Damian was able to finally gain perspective as to just why the tiny black kitten was so aptly named Dragon.
It was everything ancient Japanese artists had tried to capture, but Ryuu was so much more terrible. A long, snake like body was covered in large obsidian scales that glittered in the light, and four thick legs ended in massive talons. Enormous, pointed teeth jutted from its mouth, dwarfed only by the massive, curved horns sprouting from its head.
There was something distinctly supernatural to the undulating and oscillating way its body moved, and its fully black body seemed to flash with twisting shadows. Damian couldn’t help wondering if the glimmering shadows were a byproduct of being bonded to Amira, because he could have sworn there were times when the very darkness itself seemed drawn to her in the same way.
A loud, rumbling growl was coming from Ryuu, and Damian recognised it as a warning. He took a small step forward, wanting to make sure he had the familiar’s full attention.
“Ryuu,” The glowing yellow eyes focused on him, and in its depths, he saw the same anger and grief he himself felt. “Amira is here. But she’s in surgery, we can’t go in yet.”
The massive dragon snarled, the sound low and dangerous and clearly displeased.
“If we go in now we risk disturbing the procedure. We… she – “ Damian took a deep breath, all at once feeling the full weight of his exhaustion and grief, “She needs every chance she can get,” He finished quietly.
This time, the noise the dragon made was a high-pitched whine, and slowly, the massive beast shrunk down all the way to the small black kitten it seemed to prefer. Damian crouched down as Ryuu trotted over to him then clawed its way up his uniform to settle in his arms, apparently uncaring for the heavy coating of blood starting to dry there.
Petting the small creatures head, Damian turned back to the group.
Dick peered at Ryuu nervously while Stephanie and Cass both still held tense fighting stances. Tim and Jason now stood by the doors they had disappeared down moments before and were staring between Ryuu and Damian with wide eyes and gaping mouths.
Damian walked up to Dick, who flinched slightly when Ryuu turned its gaze onto him.
“O…kay.” Dick swallowed, “To the family room then?”
Damian just nodded, and followed Dick as he led them away. As he passed the pair at the doors, he heard Jason’s quiet comment to Tim.
“And I thought Goliath would be the weirdest thing he ever brought home.”
Dick led him through to a small room with couches, water, flowers, and no windows.
“I’ll let Leslie know you’re here,” Dick said, “No one should disturb you.” He glanced Damian up and down with a poorly concealed grimace. “And I’ll get Alfred to come by.”
Damian glanced down at himself before saying blankly, “It’s not my blood.”
Dick frowned, “Damian, you’ve been shot.” He pointed out, “Twice.”
Honestly, he had forgotten, the pain from his physical wounds had long since faded into insignificance. There was a small sigh from Dick when he didn’t reply.
“I’ll try my best to head off Bruce for a while as well. He’s… not going to be happy.”
Father. Damian hadn’t even considered his reaction to this whole thing. But even thinking it over, he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything other than the emptiness that was quickly eating up everything inside.
“I don’t care.” His words came out expressionless, without even the harsh inflection he usually had.
The concern became even more pronounced on Dick’s face. “I’m… so sorry, Damian. Truly I am.” He took a breath, “But it’s not over yet.”
Damian just stared at him, and knew his face was as blank as his words.
Dick turned to leave, giving him some final, quiet parting words.
“If you can, try to get some rest.”
The door closed behind him, and Damian was left alone.
In the silence of the room, his breaths seemed loud, and his mind began to replay sounds he knew had no place here. A gunshot, a cry of pain, a quiet voice asking him to please be careful.
A small, crooning howl came from his lap, a sound that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but grief.
“I know.” Damian bent his head to touch his forehead to the lifted nose of the small kitten on his lap, and he felt a tear finally break free and trickle down his cheek. “I know.”
Chapter 22: Father and Son
Notes:
3/4
SO SORRYYYY
New POV just dropped - the long awaited Bruce Wayne!
Chapter Text
BRUCE
Bruce Wayne was in a particularly late meeting when his phone beeped. Normally he would ignore it, but this particular beep was different to the regular receipt of messages, and was indicative that a priority message had been put out to the team of vigilantes that kept Gotham safe.
“Mr Wayne,” One of the board members tried to gain his attention as he reached for his phone, “What are your thoughts on accepting the proposal on Gotham Harbour?”
Bruce hesitantly pulled his hand back. He had given Dick the Batmobile tonight, and he trusted that his eldest son would have things well in hand. At least until this damn meeting came to an end, which seemed to be stretching out by the minute.
“The Harbour initiative seems like a good one,” He started slowly, “Bolstering the docks can only be good for Gotham City. My concern is the company behind it. A foreign interest shouldn’t be spearheading change for the city.”
“Mr Wayne,” A different person at the table addressed him bracingly. “If the change is for the better, surely it can be overlooked where it comes from?”
But it was Lucius Fox that answered, and as always his tone was mild-mannered but firm.
“Perhaps we should look further into this company before we agree to a partnership.”
“We have already been putting this off for three weeks!” The board member looked around the table, seeking support, “Their CEO is getting impatient.”
He meant the board members were getting impatient. This deal would line their pockets nicely and set up a large increase in the long-term profitability of Wayne Industries. But Bruce had been deliberately stalling the talks as Batman looked into the company that had come to them with the offer, as something wasn’t sitting right with the sudden offer of a deal from an outside company with no previous interest in Gotham.
“If they want to partner with us so badly,” Bruce said, “They’ll wait.”
Debate quickly grew amongst the other board members on whether they should look further into the company’s interests, or if they should simply accept what seemed too good of an offer to pass on. As Bruce sat back with a sigh, a sudden loud tone erupted from his phone. It interrupted the conversation around the table as everyone looked towards the noise.
For a split-second, Bruce stared at his phone with nothing less than absolute dread. It was a tone specific to one emergency code only: a Code Black, a request for immediate extraction where life was on the line.
The sudden freeze was broken quickly as his hand darted out for the phone, flipping it over to see the dreaded message flashing across his screen.
CODE BLACK ACTIVATED.
Bruce stood from the table even as his mind started to race and work through the possibilities.
Tim was at the Manor with Alfred, Damian was still in Blüdhaven on assignment, and Barbara was off tonight for dinner with Jim. That left the others that were out patrolling tonight; Dick was in the Batmobile, he had Jason with him somewhere near the docks. Steph and Cass were also out and were patrolling together on the other side of the city.
But as he looked, a message came through from Alfred.
The Code Black has come from Master Damian.
He has asked for medevac and blood.
Bruce felt the floor drop out from underneath him. Damian, his son.
He looked up and locked eyes with Lucius, who must have read the panic clear on his face.
“A family emergency, Mr Wayne?” He kept his voice warm and friendly and politely concerned, despite the clear recognition in his own eyes of what the tone had meant.
“Yes,” Bruce managed to choke a reply, even as his feet started to carry him to the door, “Please excuse me.”
Protests broke out amongst those still at the table, following him out the door.
“But Mr Wayne…!”
As soon as Bruce was outside the room, he was sprinting. Thank goodness it was late in the evening and most of his staff had long gone home, because it was only a couple of cleaners who watched him race past them with surprised greetings that were not returned.
Another beep from his phone had Bruce glancing down to read the second message from Alfred.
His location puts him at the Gotham docks.
Masters Dick and Jason are close.
What the hell was Damian doing there? He wasn’t meant to go past a small radius outside of his safehouse for patrol. Bruce shoved the thought aside, it was far from important in the face of his son’s life. He reached his car in record time and tore out of the garage.
As he raced down the Gotham streets, breaking multiple traffic laws as he did so, Bruce toggled for the car to call Alfred and it was quickly picked up.
“What’s going on?” He demanded.
Alfred’s much calmer voice filled the car, but Bruce knew him well enough by now to recognise the undertone of stress. “I’m afraid I don’t have much more information than you, Master Bruce.”
“Who’s there?”
“Dick and Jason have just reached him,” Alfred reported, “They are headed directly for Leslie’s clinic.”
“Then I’ll meet them there.”
“Tim and I are also on our way.”
The call ended and Bruce yanked on the wheel, no longer heading for the docks, but instead towards Leslie’s clinic.
He was startled when he finally approached to see the once hidden secret entrance had been ripped open into a large, gaping hole that led to the underground garage. The door was broken enough that it didn’t open, but was also broken enough to leave Bruce plenty of room to drive straight in anyway. He screeched his car to a halt next to a few others: a bike belonging to Cass, a car belonging to Tim, and the Batmobile which sat with its hood open.
Jumping out of his own car, Bruce faltered as he walked past the Batmobile and saw the thick layer of blood covering the back seats. His heart leapt into his mouth and he felt instantly sick, he knew that much blood loss wasn’t survivable without immediate intervention.
Not again. He couldn’t hold another dead son in his arms.
“Bruce.”
His name being called made him wrench his horrified gaze away from the congealed blood pooled in his car, and Bruce saw Tim approaching him. His son’s expression was serious and had the exhausted look of grief across it. Looking behind him, Bruce saw Stephanie and Cass off to one side conversing quietly with Jason, all of their heads bent close together and voices low.
“Where is he?” His demand came out hoarse, dreading the answer.
Tim attempted a smile, but it came out as a grimace, “It’s not Damian,” He was quick to reassure, “He’s fine.”
The staggering relief made Bruce feel lightheaded. But he glanced aside to the Batmobile again where someone’s blood coated the back seats.
“Then – then who?”
It was a new voice that replied, and Bruce looked aside to see Dick walking out from the doors that led out of the clinic, “Damian called it in for Amira.”
“He what?” He stared at his eldest son, his mind not quite keeping up with the change. What the hell had happened? “What was he – “ Bruce cut himself off, shaking his head. One thing at a time. “Where is he?”
“Bruce, he’s fine,” Dick reassured again, but he had the same misery on his face that Tim had. “I’ve just got Alfred in to stitch him up, but he needs some time to himself.”
He wasn’t quite sure whether to believe his sons that Damian was fine without seeing him for himself, not if their expressions were anything to go by.
“If he’s fine, why does he need stitches?” Bruce challenged.
“Ah,” Tim winced, “Well he did get shot.”
“He’s been shot?”
Tim grimaced, and Dick scratched at his head awkwardly.
“Uh, yeah, twice.”
That was it. Bruce pushed past the pair before him and marched towards the clinic doors. But before he could get there a large figure stepped directly into his path and stared him down as he crossed his arms. Bruce ground to a halt before him, fists clenching in irritation and worry.
“Get out of my way, Jason.”
Jason was frowning at him and looked decidedly uninclined to move.
“Leave the kid alone, Bruce.”
As he spoke, Steph, Cass, Dick, and Tim joined him. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they formed a line in between Bruce and the door. They each had the same grave expression, and he noticed that Steph had tears still tracking down her cheeks as she spoke.
“He just needs some time.”
Bruce stared between his children, astonished as they put up a united front against him seeing his youngest son. “What is this?”
Dick’s expression was sympathetic, “Amira is important to him, Bruce.”
Jason’s expression was not, but his outward anger hid a deeper element of regret, “She bled out, he had to do compressions.”
“She’s dead?”
To his surprise, most of those assembled before him flinched at the blunt question, and Stephanie let out a small whimper. Cass pressed a little closer into her side.
“She’s in surgery,” Tim explained through gritted teeth.
Bruce was becoming quickly irritated with the roundabout way he was getting spoon fed information, “What the fuck happened?” He demanded.
Dick winced, but answered evenly, “You can ask him yourself, but not now.”
“Fine,” Bruce growled, knowing he wasn’t going to win a fight against all his children. He directed his attention back to the front of the garage, taking in the gaping hole once more. “What happened to the door then?”
His eyes flicked of their own accord towards Jason. He had lent the Batmobile out to Dick, but he knew which one of the two was the more reckless driver. That said, he hadn’t noticed any damage to the car, maybe he hadn’t looked hard enough…
Jason’s eyes narrowed, “Don’t look at me, Dick was driving.”
Bruce diverted his attention to Cass as she started signing, A dragon broke in looking for Amira.
He blinked at her, and he was so disbelieving of her words that his question came out flat, “What.”
Tim coughed lightly, “Yeah, Amira’s cat is actually a dragon.”
“It’s with Damian now,” Steph added with a shudder, “It’s a cat again, thankfully.”
Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose as Jason chuckled, some of the tension finally leaving the room.
“Yeah, he’s definitely bringing that thing home.”
Damian is like Bruce, Cass signed with a small smile, Picking up strays.
Dick smiled weakly, mind still clearly elsewhere, but being drawn out of the dark cloud by the other’s banter, “Two of them, I’d bet.”
Bruce stared between them all, “Two??”
Jason grinned, “Guess what Bruce? Turns out Amira is an orphan! Congrats on another child!”
Bruce looked to the heavens, wishing that they might have an answer to the enigma that was his life.
He ended up waiting with them for Alfred to make an appearance, quietly conversing with each of his children to try and piece together what he could with what little he knew, and what he had guessed from overhearing their excited chatter over past weeks as Amira’s name became more commonplace around the Manor. It wasn’t often the entire family came together, yet here they gathered, as only tragic situations could do. What was confusing Bruce was that each of his children seemed as concerned for Amira as they were for Damian.
It was Stephanie who let slip that she visited the safehouse on occasion, and that she messaged Amira almost every day about mindless chatter, and that she already considered her a good friend.
It was Cass who admitted the clothes she had packed up some weeks ago had gone to Amira, because she had found a carefully crafted chessboard in the safehouse she and Stephanie had cleared. While the careful illustration of the pieces had clearly been Damian’s doing, she had been fascinated by the few poorly created pawns that had been allowed to disrupt his perfection.
It was Jason who glared his way and demanded to know why Bruce needed to know about him going for dinner elsewhere, and to butt out of his life.
It was Tim who shrugged and said who knew that Damian could give a shit about someone other than himself after all.
It was Dick who smiled beatifically, and admitted he hoped more than anything that Amira would survive this, because it could only mean happiness for Damian.
Eventually, Alfred appeared. Bruce hurried over to him before his children could.
“How is he?”
Despite looking his usual proper self, Alfred seemed somewhat perturbed.
“Physically, Master Damian will be just fine. His injuries are relatively minor and will heal fully in time.”
Alfred glanced aside at the watching audience, and ever so subtly turned his body as he dropped his voice. No doubt aware at just how adept everyone in the room was at reading lips, his back was now to the younger adults.
“If I may speak frankly, I have never seen Damian like this. He…” Bruce’s concern grew as the usually very articulate Alfred struggled, “I am not sure I can describe it. But I hope that Miss Amira pulls through, for both of their sakes.”
Bruce stared at Alfred. For both of their sakes? But Alfred continued.
“I might also note a more recent injury on his lower back – “
Bruce immediately frowned, “He’s been out prior to tonight as well?”
“Yes,” His comment earned Bruce a sharp look, “But that is not my point. It was stitched up quite nicely, but the handiwork was certainly not my own.”
Bruce blinked heavily, once, again, as he came to the only conclusion he could, but… Damian would never allow...
“You’re saying… Amira?“
“Yes.” Alfred actually smiled then, his drawn expression transforming to a happiness and hope Bruce hadn’t seen for quite some time. “It seems the untouchable Deathweaver has not been quite so untouchable for young Master Damian.”
A hand was laid on his shoulder.
“Do be kind when you see him, Master Bruce,” Alfred implored, “The poor boy has been through quite an ordeal tonight.”
The doors to the clinic opened, and Dick now walked out, looking far happier than he had minutes before when he had been called back by Leslie. Bruce watched as every member of his family became instantly more alert, perking up hopefully on seeing the happiness on Dick’s face.
“They’re done. Leslie says Amira will pull through,” He relayed with a grin, “A few days in ICU and then home recuperation and she’ll be good as new.”
A loud whoop came from Steph, and Dick’s wide grin spread around the group as if contagious.
“Phew,” Jason leaned back into the chair he had commandeered with a light-hearted chuckle, but his expression gave away the magnitude of his relief, “I would have had to avoid the Manor for at least a decade if the demon had lost his death-girl.”
Cass punched him in the arm, hard. But it was done with a smile.
Among the quiet celebrations and gusty breaths that was the relief of tension, Bruce noted Dick turn to leave again.
He called after him, hoping to catch him before he disappeared, “Where are you going?”
Dick turned back with a confused frown, “To tell Damian?”
Bruce shook his head, “Let me.”
He didn’t miss the collective wince from around the room. He scowled, annoyed and confused as to why they all seemed so against him seeing Damian.
“He’s my son,” He pointed out, as if they didn’t know.
Dick sighed and at last nodded, stepping aside as he warned, “Be nice, Bruce.”
His frown deepened, “Why does everyone keep saying that?” He muttered under his breath. He knew Damian had been through something traumatic tonight, the last thing he wanted to do was make it worse, despite his lingering anger that he had been so blatantly disobeyed.
Bruce strode through the doors and down the winding corridors before coming to a stop before the family room he knew Damian was inside. Hesitating just long enough to take a deep breath, Bruce opened the door.
His first thought was that the person sitting on the chair inside wasn’t his son.
The Damian he knew was proud to the point of arrogance, was steadfast far past stubbornness, had been drilled in aristocracy to the point he would never allow his posture to slump, and was combative enough that hostility had become another mask he wore.
The Damian he saw was hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his hands hanging limply in front of him. His head was bowed, and his expression held a haunting blankness as he stared at the floor before him. Clearly, Alfred had tried to clean the worst of the blood from him, but it was heavy enough that most of it had dried so that it coated much of Damian’s hands and clothes.
He didn’t even look up when someone entered, and the sight of his youngest looking so broken shook Bruce to his core.
Pausing just inside the door and allowing it to shut, Bruce’s use of his son’s name was soft, unwilling to startle him.
“Damian?”
“Father.”
He was relieved when Damian actually answered, but the reply was as flat as his affect. Bruce took a few hesitant steps forward and sank down onto a couch across from him.
“What happened tonight?” He asked.
“We were being careful,” Damian’s tone was dead, “It was an ambush.”
“Who?”
“The Grey Hawks,” A flash of anger entered Damian’s voice and he glanced aside at a small cat sitting at his side as he spoke, “They knew we were there. A sorcerer tracked her to Blüdhaven and they set up a trap.”
He tried to keep his reply mild, but it came out bracing as Bruce couldn’t help pointing out, “You shouldn’t have been there in the first place.”
“Is that so, Father?” Damian’s head finally came up to pin Bruce with a glare as he continued sharply, “Because I think we’ve got closer than any of you have to finding the location of the Grey Hawks leadership.”
“We?” Bruce echoed, “You’ve been bringing Amira along more than just tonight?” When Damian’s glare only hardened, he continued full of exasperation, “Damian of all the reckless decisions you could have made – “
“I was not being reckless!” Damian suddenly exploded, standing up out of his chair as his entire body radiated with an uncontained, furious rage Bruce hadn’t seen since he came to him as a small boy, “I would never put her in danger like that if I had the choice.”
“You’ve brought her far too close to this, Damian!” Bruce retorted, sitting up sharply as he reacted to the anger directed his way, “She was never meant to be involved.”
“You expect us both to sit back and let you do the work?” The demand was snarled back his way.
“Yes!”
“Fuck that,” Damian spat, and Bruce was stunned at the venom in it, “Amira got us closer than anything the rest of you have done. Where do you think Dick has been getting all his tip offs for new locations to look into?” He clenched his fists, “That’s all her.”
“Dick’s been getting all that information from her?” The admission took Bruce aback for a moment, but then he shook his head and met Damian’s glare with one of his own. This had officially gone too far. “Right, I’ll assign someone else to guard Amira from now on. Clearly, you’re too close to this – “
“No.”
Bruce was taken aback at the absolute certainty in Damian’s retort.
“No?”
“I’m staying with her.”
All the stubbornness in the world couldn’t have moved Damian on that point, Bruce could see. He took a breath, ready to try again from another angle,
“Damian…”
“Don’t argue with me, Father.” Damian interrupted him harshly, “Amira is my responsibility, and I…” Suddenly the anger broke, and an exhausted, deadened grief replaced it, heavy enough that it physically dropped Damian back into his seat. “And I failed her.”
The raw pain in his voice pulled Bruce forward from his seat to crouch on the ground in front of Damian as his son dragged an agitated hand through his hair.
“Damian,” Bruce softened his tone, suddenly desperate to ease his son’s pain, “She’s out of surgery, she’s going to be fine.”
His words jerked the agonised gaze back up from the ground to meet his.
“What?” There was careful suspicion in Damian’s eyes, and Bruce knew it was because he was unwilling to allow himself to hope yet.
“That’s… actually what I came in to say,” Bruce blew out a breath, already knowing Alfred was going to chew him out for how this conversation had gone so far. But he focussed in on Damian, seeing that his next words were going to make or break the young man before him.
“The surgery went well,” He reassured, “Amira is going to be fine.”
“I – that’s – “ Damian actually choked off and put his head in his hands. “That’s good.” His whispered voice was little more than a croak, and Bruce was staggered both at his son’s reaction, and at a sudden realisation that had been a long time coming. All at once, it made sense.
“You… care for her.”
Bruce drew the words out before them both, testing them, but knowing their truth when he saw Damian’s shoulders first tense, and then slump in defeat.
“I don’t know what happened, Father.” Damian’s voice broke, and Bruce’s chest tightened on hearing the despairing admission. “I didn’t mean for – “
He cut himself off as he startled when Bruce reached out to place a reassuring hand on his knee, uncaring at the crusted blood splattered there.
“It’s okay, Damian. Sometimes these things just happen.” Bruce sighed and sat back on his heels as he admitted ruefully, “I suspected something was going on when everyone started turning up for dinner again at the Manor just to gossip about her.”
Damian’s head finally lifted again, and Bruce was relieved to see the despair and uncertainty had retreated slightly.
“You’re not… mad?”
“Mad? I’m dating a criminal.” Bruce smiled shortly, but he was beating himself up inside that he had ever made Damian feel he couldn’t just tell him something like that. “Damian, all my life I’ve hoped that you might find someone that might bring you joy and purpose beyond what Robin can give you. If you think you’ve found that person in Amira, who am I to say otherwise?”
Damian stayed silent, but his guards were down enough that Bruce had a rare chance to read every expression that crossed it. Surprise, suspicion, thoughtfulness, and finally, a careful hope.
Bruce smiled again, and this time the expression stayed, “She must be an incredible woman.”
There was a small nod, and Damian’s voice was rough with emotion as he replied.
“She is.”
Clapping the hand briefly on Damian’s knee before removing it, Bruce sat himself back on the couch.
“They’re going to bring Amira through to ICU for a couple of days,” He passed on. “Then she can go home to recuperate.”
Damian frowned, and it was the most normal expression Bruce had seen from his son so far.
“She has no home to go to.”
Bruce sighed; it seemed his children had been right about another joining them at the Manor. Damian was so picky with who he surrounded himself with, that Bruce hadn’t really imagined there ever being a woman in his life. Now there was one, Bruce could very well guess that he would only be allowing his future daughter-in-law home just a little bit earlier than expected.
He decided to keep that particular thought to himself.
“Very well,” He agreed, “Amira can come back to the manor when Leslie says it’s okay.” His gaze slid sideways, “I assume the cat is coming?”
Damian glanced down at the small black kitten that was so saturated with blood that it sat in a small pool of it. It had sat quietly at his feet throughout with its strange yellow gaze turned on Bruce.
“Ryuu is her familiar.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Bruce sighed and pushed up from the couch. “I’ll see you back home when you’re ready. And Damian?”
“Yeah?”
“Please shower.”
Chapter 23: Idle Hands
Notes:
4/4
Ok, last chapter to be dropped as a part of this dump(ster fire)Well done for surviving the worst of the angst, this chapter chills out a bit so Damian can have some chats with Dick and start to actually confront his feelings:))
Reminder, I'm back mid October and will make this all better <3
Lots of love!!
Chapter Text
DAMIAN
The Robin is hurting.
It was strange to have a voice in his head. It was both a purr, a rumble, and a dark slither through his mind all at once.
Seer will survive. Seer is strong.
“I know, Ryuu, okay?”
Damian’s words had a bite to them. He wasn’t enjoying facing each and every emotion that came with seeing the woman he cared about intubated in front of him. Having her familiar now able to point it out wasn’t helping much.
Amira lay on her back on a bed in Leslie’s clinic, eyes closed and limp. She was being kept heavily sedated in a medical coma as her body healed. A machine to her side hissed every few seconds as it breathed for her, but at least her heart was beating now. Damian often turned his head between watching the monitor for each blip that showed an unhurried heartbeat and watching Amira to make sure her chest still rose and fell.
She still had her gloves on.
He wanted to pull them off to hold her hand, skin to skin. He wanted to trace the contours of her face again. If only to reassure himself that she was real, that the serene picture before him wasn’t just a cruel illusion of life.
I’m too weak for a vision. Amira’s words echoed in his head. The last thing Damian wanted to do was interrupt the healing process now.
Leslie had assured him she would be good as new after a few weeks to heal, that the surgery had only needed to stem the bleed, that her blood had been replaced with the numerous bags they had needed, and that her liver could regenerate. Ryuu had also assured him that their bond would heal her much faster than a normal person.
She had been so close to death, had bled out enough that there had been no blood left inside her for his compressions in the car to even circulate around anymore. It was what kept Damian in the seat next to her bed, watching carefully, as if looking away for even a moment might cause a sudden change in her condition.
Someone approaches.
The familiar settled at Amira’s feet warned Damian just before he heard the footsteps himself. On the edges of his vision, he saw Dick enter through the door into Amira’s room before closing it quietly behind him.
“Hey, Little D,” Dick greeted him softly as he pulled up a chair next to him and settled into it. “How’s she doing?”
Damian’s gaze didn’t stray from the unconscious woman before him, “No change.”
He felt the nod next to him, but knew his brother’s gaze would flick over the vitals on the monitor to check for himself anyway. Dick soon spoke again.
“How are you?”
“Fine.”
There was a deep breath from beside him.
“I think we both know that’s not true.”
Damian felt his shoulders tense, “I don’t want to talk about it,” He muttered.
“Tough.”
He glanced aside in some surprise at the firm response from his eldest brother. Dick was turned his way and frowning at him.
“You’ve barely moved from her side in three days, Dami.” Dick pointed out. His tone was unyielding, but his eyes held a gentle understanding that was hard for Damian to see. “She’s going to wake up, but meanwhile you need to get out and do something else.”
“I don’t want to.”
What if something changed and he wasn’t here? Damian had come so desperately close to losing her, felt so much guilt over it, that he felt he had to stay. Despite Leslie’s assurances otherwise, a small voice whispered in his head that Amira still might not wake. Until he saw the stunning pale blue of her eyes land on him again, Damian was determined to watch over her.
“You care for her, I get it.” At Damian’s dangerous look, Dick rolled his eyes, “Bruce let the cat out of the bag. No offense, Ryuu.” The small kitten watching their exchange yawned and tucked its head back onto its paws.
Dick continued, “But Amira wouldn’t want you to be rotting at her bedside when there’s nothing you can do about her condition.”
Damian looked away and crossed his arms, “I’m not leaving her.”
“I’m not asking you not to come here,” Dick was being his usual patient self. “Just to leave the building every now and then. Take a walk, get some fresh air. Eat something. Actually sleep.”
There was a long moment of silence.
“I don’t think I can,” Damian’s eventual response was quiet.
Every time he shut his eyes, he heard the gunshot that had echoed above the fight, saw Amira’s slack face as he did compressions on her after she stopped breathing in his arms, and remembered back to her broken sobs after the vision he now knew had foretold his death.
“I get it, Dami, more than you know.” His brother’s voice was sad and raw with his own memories, “It happens in this line of work. When Kori and the others get hurt… It’s rough, is what I’m trying to say.” He cleared his throat and looked back at Damian, “I know you almost lost Amira, and that leaves a mark that won’t go away. But it doesn’t mean you stop living while she recovers.”
With a sigh, Dick repositioned himself on the chair, “When Amira wakes up, she’s going to need help. Walking, eating, and not to mention she’s going to be up in the Manor with far too many nosy siblings trying to see her. You need to be okay so you can help her when it counts.”
Finally, Dick fell silent, apparently happy to let Damian now stew in his own thoughts. He understood what was being said. It made sense and was the logical option. He just wasn’t happy about it.
For a long time, he watched Amira breathe as he struggled against agreeing with Dick’s words versus his own expectation that he watch over her. Realising and finally giving into the understanding that he cared for Amira had been a surprisingly vulnerable development. Now Damian just had to choose what he did with the knowledge.
“How…” Damian hesitated, almost disbelieving he was actually going to ask this. However out of his entire family, it was only Dick he trusted to give him a straight answer, “How did you know you liked Kori… like that?”
To his credit, Dick hid his surprise at the question reasonably well. He paused to think it over.
“I admit, I was pretty smitten from the get go,” He admitted, “She was strong, brave, beautiful…”
Damian wrinkled his nose and Dick chuckled softly.
“Honestly, to really care, it took a while. For a long time we were just colleagues, then friends. We grew closer over the years. I started noticing I was watching her more closely, reacting differently every time she looked at me or said my name,” Dick smiled, “Then I started noticing she might have been reacting the same way.”
That was sounding distressingly familiar. Damian kept his face carefully blank.
“And then what?”
“There was a battle, a large to-do in Tokyo.” Dick’s smile widened as he remembered, “Feelings had been running high for a while, I think. And jumped up on adrenaline we just… confessed.”
Damian frowned, surely it can’t have been that easy. “And that was it?”
“Well, more or less.” Dick shrugged, “But we knew from then, that we cared for each other as more than just friends. Things were never the same.”
Damian stared across at Amira, thinking hard. Dick’s words were sounding worryingly familiar, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He knew he cared for Amira and… he thought she might care for him too. After everything he had seen, after everything they had shared... The possibility made his heart beat a little faster and he felt his stomach flip. But with the feeling came fear. He couldn’t allow her into the life he lived. It was too unstable and variable, too dangerous and full of secrets.
Case in point, becoming more involved had almost killed her.
Dick almost seemed to read his mind, “Injury is just part of life around here, we both know that. Just… consider if you would really be happy to let her go after all this is done.”
Would he be happy? No. But would Amira be safer?
Yes.
As much as Damian wanted to stay at her side, he couldn’t allow Amira any deeper into his world. He couldn’t chance her getting hurt like this ever again… or worse. Just the thought made Damian feel sick.
No, when Amira woke, Damian would keep the space between them, no matter how much he wanted to chance crossing it.
“I did have a slightly more off topic question.” Dick said after a few minutes of silence.
A grunt from Damian was enough for Dick to go ahead.
“That warehouse we picked you up from wasn’t on either of our lists of locations of interest. Bruce mentioned that you had been lured to the warehouse by a sorcerer. How do you know?”
“Ryuu,” Damian answered shortly, mind still whirling.
“…You’ve lost me.”
Damian sighed and stared now at the familiar with mild irritation, his hand still smarted from where the small kitten had bitten him shortly after reuniting. But when the cat had then ripped into its own paw and held up the bleeding wound towards him, Damian had stopped cussing and lowered his injured hand down to it in confusion.
As their blood mingled, a sharp bolt of pain had sliced through Damian’s head, but it had quickly cleared, and suddenly a new voice had joined him: that of Amira’s familiar.
“Ryuu bonded us,” Damian explained, “Amira pointed out the sorcerer after she was… injured,” He gritted out the words. “A mind-flayer, which apparently caught the attention of Amira’s magic, and in the building disrupted it just long enough for her to lose concentration.”
Dick suddenly looked concerned, “They were waiting for you?”
Damian crossed his arms tighter, “Slater must have worked out the Deathweaver was coming after him. He set a trap next to a location he knew we would go to, and had a lure he knew would get her attention.”
He had heard a lot about this Carbine Slater now, but now the head of the Grey Hawk Gang had gone much too far. When Damian finally found him, Slater was going to pay.
Dick went silent for a while as he watched Ryuu warily. The kitten’s half slitted eyes gazed lazily back.
“So what does a bond with an ancient dragon mean?” He ventured.
“Apparently the bond is what’s currently helping to heal Amira.”
Ryuu’s energy will heal the Seer quickly.
Damian nodded briefly to it.
“I can hear its voice in my head, and I get a rough sense of its emotions,” Now his eyes narrowed, “And likewise, I suppose.”
Correct, The voice in his head purred.
Dick looked like he was struggling to get his head around it, “So it can have multiple bonds at once?”
Ryuu at last raised its head to join in more fully.
Ryuu usually needs many bonds to sustain our form. Seer is powerful enough that we only need the one. The Robin is feeble in power, he is of little consequence except to the Seer.
Damian glared at the familiar. “Thanks for that.”
He felt a small flash of amusement that wasn’t his own.
The Seer cares greatly for the Robin. We will protect him just the same.
Damian was slightly taken aback.
“She said that?”
Ryuu can feel her emotions as Robin feels ours.
Well… Well. If he needed any more confirmation that Amira felt the same way, that was it. His gaze darted back to her as his chest tightened, and heat rose to his cheeks.
“Damian?”
“Sorry,” He quickly floundered to remember his brother’s question, “Yes, it can have multiple bonds.”
“I get the sense we’re done here.” Dick was all amusement.
Damian sighed heavily and slumped slightly in the chair, “Yeah, we’re done.”
“So, do you want a ride to the Manor?” Dick offered carefully, “Or are you going to stay here?”
Damian looked over Amira – the woman who cared for him against all odds. She would wake, she would be okay. But he needed to be here when she woke, at his best again and ready to be there for her.
“Yeah, I’m coming. Just…” He hesitated. Dick smiled, his expression all understanding.
“Take a minute or two. I won’t leave without you.”
Dick quietly left. Once alone, Damian leaned forward and slid his hand into Amira’s, tracing his thumb over the glove covering her skin. Staring at her blank face made his insides twist, it was too similar to her lifeless appearance when she had been pulled out of the Batmobile.
“I’ll come back,” He promised her aloud even though he knew she couldn’t hear, “I won’t be gone for long.”
Ryuu will watch the Seer. The assurance rumbled comfortingly through his head.
Damian had to admit, he did feel a bit better knowing a literal dragon was watching over her.
He quickly joined Dick down in the now fixed garage below. The car ride to Wayne Manor was quiet, and Damian appreciated the silence. It was during the drive that he started to notice just how exhausted he actually was. Annoyingly, Dick had been correct, he needed to take some time to look after himself so he could work at his best once more.
Soon enough, Dick pulled into the Batcave. The few people there waved hello to Dick when he got out of the car, then stopped and stared in astonishment as Damian followed.
“You actually got him out?” Stephanie asked, all surprise.
Tim had been mid sparring session with her and stepped back to grab his drink bottle.
“Amira should be extubated tomorrow,” He relayed, “Then she’ll be brought here anyway.”
Bruce sat at the Batcomputer but had turned at their arrival. He sent a disapproving look Tim’s way as he spoke.
“Have you been hacking into Leslie’s patient files?”
Tim was unconcerned, “You mean again?”
Bruce let out a gusty breath and stood, making his way towards Damian.
“How are you, Damian?”
“Fine, Father.” Under Bruce’s disbelieving stare, Damian let out an irritated grunt, “I’ll be here for a few hours before heading back,” He muttered, knowing it was admittance of his fatigue.
Bruce’s serious expression changed into something mildly less severe, no doubt pleased that Damian was finally taking some time to himself.
“That’s good, son.”
Damian rolled his eyes and continued past the staring gazes towards the stairs that would bring him up to the Manor.
Walking into his bedroom for the first time in a couple of months felt strange, it had been years since he had been away for such an extended period. As he sat on his bed, Alfred the cat slunk in, already purring heartily. He jumped up next to him and Damian scratched at his head as he stared blankly around.
He had always thought it would be good to be back home, that ending his assignment and coming back to the Manor would be a relief. He had never imagined he would be back here in these circumstances, or that his mind would stay so far away with someone else.
With a sigh, he left a complaining Alfred on the bed and walked through to the ensuite to shower. Towelling off, Damian figured he better eat something, no matter that his stomach turned even thinking of food.
But dressed again and on his way to the kitchen, his steps faltered as he passed a corridor off to one side. His art studio was down there.
Damian’s hands itched, and suddenly all his exhaustion fell away as his feet absently turned towards it. He turned on the lights and began pulling together a grouping of canvases, gathered a variety of paints and set himself up before a blank canvas.
He didn’t even think, he just painted.
So many repressed images fell out of him onto the canvases that paint dripped onto the floor, and small splatters ended up on his pants. Smudges of different paints ended up in the wrong colours, but Damian painted as if in a frenzied trance, and many hours passed without his knowledge.
Eventually he looked up when the door opened and Alfred stepped inside to place down a tray of food. The elderly butler smiled his way, but Damian did not miss the way his sharp eyes darted around the uncharacteristically messy setup that displayed his chaotic mental state.
“So good to see you, Master Damian. Please do not allow me to interrupt.”
Alfred was quick to duck out again, and Damian at last sat back to take in the multiple paintings around him. They weren’t his best work, but they held an emotion he had never seen before in his art. Every one of them held some form of Amira.
The one he currently painted was of black hair spilling over a pillow, gleaming silver in the moonlight. One off to the side held a silhouette sat among shadows that curled around and welcomed them. Pale blue eyes glittering with teasing humour stared out of another.
Sighing heavily, Damian at last put down his paintbrush and began to clean up, setting the still wet canvases aside to dry. He should eat the food Alfred had brought him; he should get some sleep.
And then he should get back to the woman that consumed his every thought.
Chapter 24: Reunion
Notes:
Aaand we're back!!
I appreciate it's been a long wait, but I'm here to make everything good again! It'll be back to weekly uploads from here till the end.
It was so fun reading the reactions to the last chapters, I'm glad you all enjoyed it in your own ways :}Thank you all for the comments, kudos, bookmarks, and just for having a read. I truly appreciate it!!
With that, let our MCs reunite!! <3
Chapter Text
AMIRA
Waking up was more difficult than it should have been.
It was like a thick blanket had been thrown over your consciousness, and you had to physically fight it to surface. There were half remembered thoughts of agonising pain, a crushing grief, and the sensation of falling, but even those fled to your subconscious mind as you struggled to wake. Finally, you were able to blink open your eyes, and you spent a long moment trying to make your gaze focus enough to figure out where you were.
“Welcome back, Mistress Amira.”
The proper voice startled you; it wasn’t one that you were familiar with. Turning your head, you saw an elderly man in a simple but undoubtedly expensive suit sitting pertly in a chair to your side. One of his legs was crossed elegantly over the other, and he was currently putting down a steaming cup of tea so he could give you his full attention.
“I am Alfred Pennyworth,” He continued with a kind smile that crinkled the edges of his eyes, “May I be the first to say what a pleasure it is to have you here.”
You blinked slowly. You knew the name, but there was a fog in your head making it hard to think, and recalling exactly where you had previously heard the name was difficult.
“Here?” You echoed.
“You have been brought to Wayne Manor.”
Oh. You were familiar with that name.
Looking around again, you now noticed the opulent grandeur of the room. It was massive, enough so that you could scarcely believe the one space was simply a bedroom. There was a classic yet distinctly old appearance to it, and expensive wood and marble trimmings that matched overly plush furniture. The walls had elegant lighting fixtures, mirrors, and paintings across its width. Ornate vases and statues dotted some of the surfaces. It was a display of obscene wealth you had never before seen in your life, and it all pointed to the truth that this was, in fact, Wayne Manor.
Eventually your gaze settled back on the man across from you. Some of your confusion still lingered, you knew you hadn’t ever met him but…
“I know you.”
“And I know you, Mistress Amira,” Alfred smiled again, the picture of patience as you struggled. “I have heard much about you from the children.”
But then he stood, and to your surprise, actually bowed your way.
“Now, I am going to get young Master Damian, for he was quite concerned that I let him know the moment your condition changed.”
Alfred was quick to leave the room, shutting the large door quietly behind him.
Damian.
Suddenly, you were desperate to see him. You couldn’t remember what had happened or why you were here. Where was he? Was he okay?
As you waited, the small kitten at your feet that had woken with you now padded up the bed, purring loudly, and began licking your jaw.
“Hello, Ryuu.” You rasped, smiling as you reached up to pat it. Your familiar didn’t reply, and simply kept licking and purring. Its relief and happiness at seeing you awake shone bright in your chest through your bond.
Rapid footsteps sounded down the hallway outside, and the door was suddenly ripped open as Damian came skidding to a halt in the doorway. He was slightly breathless, having obviously run from wherever he had been, and his black hair was an uncharacteristic mess, as if agitated hands were regularly dragging through it. Intense green eyes zeroed in on you, and you were surprised to be able to pick every emotion he felt out of them as they swept critically over you; fear, relief, and concern.
He stepped inside the room, letting the door close behind him.
“Amira…”
You took him in just as greedily, relieved to see he looked well and unharmed. He wore casual clothing, which made sense given this massive, magnificent building was his home. A simple black sweater and pants made for an elegant and undoubtedly handsome image before you. As tall and strong as ever, the only real difference you noted in Damian was the uncertainty in his expression as he looked at you.
“Hey.”
Your voice was a little croaky, and you weren’t quite sure why your throat hurt, but you were just pleased that Damian was here. He stepped towards you, his movements slow and hesitant, as if he was approaching a wounded animal.
“How – how are you feeling?”
You tilted your head, wondering why he was looking at you like you might disappear.
“A bit confused,” You admitted, “Why am I here?”
“You…” Damian paused and swallowed before continuing more strongly, “You were shot. We brought you back here to recover.”
Shot? But as he said it, the memories came flooding back. The factory, the ambush. Damian’s looming death, the gunshot, and the pain that had ripped through your whole body.
“Oh.”
He pulled Alfred’s chair closer to the bedside and sat down, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
“You remember?”
“Yeah… kind of.”
You lost your memory sometime around Damian reaching you, and all you recalled after that was the feeling of losing your grip on your surroundings and the sensation of falling.
“I think I must have blacked out or something.”
Damian’s gaze slid away, his voice strangely rough as he repeated quietly, “Or something.” But he looked back around after a moment with more strength to his gaze. “So how are you feeling? Are you sore?”
You paused as you took stock of your body. There was some pain to your stomach, and surprisingly a bit of an ache in your chest and a rough feeling in your throat.
“My stomach hurts just a little, but I feel surprisingly good for someone that took a shot point blank.”
You didn’t miss Damian’s cringe at your words.
“Ryuu has been helping you heal,” He said, nodding to the familiar that was now lying down again with its little wet nose pressed against your cheek. “It also bonded us.”
“Wait, what?”
You glanced down at your familiar in surprise. The ancient being hadn’t made a bond with anything or anyone except yourself in over a hundred years. That Ryuu had made another now, and one of no benefit to itself, spoke volumes.
The kitten raised its head.
Robin is important to the Seer, a bond was needed to communicate without her.
Damian was glaring half-heartedly at Ryuu.
“It hurt.”
You stared at Damian in surprise on recognising he had heard the same thing you had, “You hear it too?”
Ryuu speaks to you both now.
Damian cocked his head. “Are you able to speak to just one of us at a time?”
If we choose to.
“Is our bond the same as yours?” He asked, looking between you and Ryuu.
Ryuu gains power from the Seer, but we have no benefit from the Robin.
Damian gave a small hum that you recognised as him thinking. As the silence stretched, you decided you had better ask, “What actually happened?”
He looked back around to you with an expression that was now carefully blank.
“You went unconscious not long after getting you into the car with Dick and Jason,” He explained, voice just as emotionless as his face, “We brought you to Leslie’s clinic where you had surgery. You’ve been in ICU for a few days, but you’ve been brought back to the Manor to recover.”
“I’m… not quite sure why we’re at the Manor.” You admitted.
Damian raised an eyebrow, “You’ve met just about every member of the family, and you already know our identities. It’s the safest place for you to be now.”
“That makes sense,” You murmured, but as your brain continued to wake up and work through what had happened that night, you suddenly jerked your head around to stare at Damian. “Wait, weren’t you shot as well?”
You began shuffling around agitatedly, trying to push yourself up the bed and into a sitting position so you could look him over properly. At your movement Damian stood sharply, hands reaching out to push you back down but stopping just short of making contact.
“Amira, stay still!” He demanded, “I’m fine, but you’re going to pull your stitches.”
“You’re not fine, you got shot!” You glared at him, then added for good measure, “Twice!”
Damian rolled his eyes at you, his returning glare far more impressive than yours, “Minor wounds,” He assured, “And I’m not allowed out on patrol until they’re fully healed. Now please just lie down.”
Slowly, you let yourself sink back into the bed, searching his eyes for signs of deception.
“You promise you’re alright?”
“The first one barely grazed me,” He all but scoffed, “The second one missed anything important.”
You believed him, and guessed that the continued frown on his face was more out of concern for you than annoyance at being asked after.
“Fine.”
Sure enough, moving around like that had caused some increased pain in your stomach, and you brushed a gentle hand over it, feeling the bulge of a dressing over your abdomen. But your fingers also met the silk of pyjamas far too expensive to be your own.
“Who dressed me?” You asked, attention diverted.
“Some of the nurses at Leslie’s.”
Well thank the Gods it hadn’t been any of the bats. You weren’t sure you wanted to come face to face with any of them if one of their first meetings with you had been while you were unconscious and naked.
“Whose pyjamas are these?”
“Stephanie’s,” Damian paused before continuing, “Cass is closer to your size, but she insisted.”
You smiled, it was nice to have a friend like Steph, looking out for you even when you didn’t know.
“Are you hungry?” Damian asked suddenly.
You blinked up at him, “Um, I think so?”
He was already getting out his phone to send a message, “I can get Alfred to bring you something.”
“Actually,” Damian paused as you interrupted. “Can I shower first?”
He hesitated, eyes sweeping down you again with obvious uncertainty.
“I feel okay, all things considered,” You reassured before pointing out, “And my legs aren’t broken.”
“Okay,” He allowed as he put his phone away, “But be careful.”
You smiled, feeling warm that he was no longer bothering to hide his obvious concern. On seeing your unrestrained smile, some of the tension Damian had carried since entering seemed to dissipate and the rigid set to his broad shoulders relaxed.
He helped by pulling the heavy blankets away from you, but otherwise was as reluctant as usual to touch you. He did hover close, however, as you stood from the bed. The move was harder than you expected, and straightening fully was a slow process as it pulled at your abdomen. You held back your groan and did your best to keep the grimace from your face as the ache there increased, but knew Damian had seen it anyway when his frown grew more pronounced. He kept silent, but stayed close to your side as you took your first wobbly steps.
Your confidence grew as you walked a little further, and thankfully the pain settled again as it seemed to free up. Damian matched your steps as he directed you to the shower in the massive adjoining ensuite.
“Towels here, clothes here.” He pointed them out before turning to you, “Do you need help?”
You jerked your head up to stare at him, stunned at the blatant insinuation. His cheeks darkened slightly as he realised what he had just offered and hurried to elaborate.
“I can get Steph or Cass if you need.”
Unable to help your startled laugh, your shook your head, “No, I’m okay.”
Damian shifted on his feet, the move awkward, “Alright.” But quickly serious again, he gestured towards your stomach, “Take your dressing off for the shower, I’ll redress it after.”
Once he made himself scarce, you carefully undressed and pulled off the dressing over your abdomen. Looking at the still stitched up wound, it didn’t look as bad as you thought it might. While the wound itself was ragged and would obviously leave a large scar, it already looked like it was a couple of weeks old and was no longer open. You breathed a sigh of relief and silently thanked Ryuu for your rapid healing, because showering with an open wound would have been a difficult and no doubt painful task.
As you stepped into the water, you tried your best to forget Damian’s unintentional offer to join you, and tried even harder not to think about the fact he was only on the other side of the bathroom door while you were naked.
It figured that even after such a severe wound, the thing on your mind would be the man you had saved in causing it. You sighed as you finished up and stepped out to towel off, knowing after taking a bullet for him, there was no more denying to yourself just how pathetically infatuated you were with Damian Wayne.
You dressed yourself just as carefully as you had pulled the clothes off, and you were pleased to recognise the comfy sweats as a pair Cass had lent you. Obviously, your meagre belongings had already been brought over from the Blüdhaven safehouse.
Still trying to dry your hair off some more, you walked out of the bathroom to see Damian setting up the dressings to cover your wound again. He looked up as you came out and his intense gaze looked you up and down critically. Spreading your arms out, you attempted a smile.
“See, fine.” Big girl huh, you could shower by yourself.
Damian nodded slightly, “Good.” But his gaze held shadows of a memory and a sadness you didn’t understand. The strange look was turned away from you as he looked aside to reach for some medical gloves.
Dropping your arms and ditching the towel, you walked forwards, eyeing the setup before you.
“Where do you want me?”
He glanced up again as he pulled the gloves on, it didn’t escape your notice that he double gloved – just as you had once before.
“Probably lying down on the bed is best.”
This time you both blushed, and quickly looked away from each other.
Trying to keep your expression otherwise calm and unbothered despite your overly excitable heart, you sat back on the bed and kicked your legs up so you could lie down at its edge. The sudden realisation that Damian needed access to your abdomen startled you, and your blush worsened as you were quick to pull the bottom of your sweater up to under your breasts and push the pants a little lower on your hips, hoping like hell that would be enough.
You didn’t dare even look at Damian as he leaned over you to gently press a clean dressing over the area.
“It’s healed better than I thought,” You told the ceiling, desperate to distract yourself, “Even with Ryuu’s help.”
Damian’s voice was quiet, as if he was trying to hide the rough edge to it despite his business-like tone, “You’re lucky.”
His fingers brushed against your skin as he taped down the edges of the dressing, and despite the gloves, you were so unused to having people touch you - let alone the bare skin of your stomach - that you had to bite your lip to hold back a gasp.
He noticed. Of course he noticed.
“Is this hurting?” Damian asked, all concern.
Not trusting your voice, you shook your head and stared resolutely upwards. The painful ache from your stomach was the last thing on your mind.
To your relief he finished up swiftly and you were quick to pull your top back down as he cleaned up. Pushing back to sit yourself upright against the pillows, you finally turned back to him, noting that Damian was also carefully avoiding looking at you. At least the strange tension was going both ways.
“Thanks,” You murmured, and he merely nodded and crossed to a bin to dump the used supplies.
Seeing that you were settled again, Ryuu crossed the duvet to plonk itself down on your lap and continue to purr. Patting the kitten mindlessly, you were looking away when Damian spoke again.
“I… got you something.”
Thinking it would be something like food, or your few things from the safehouse, you didn’t think much of his hesitant words.
“What is it?”
But when he crossed the room to pull a long, wrapped package out of a drawer, you realised that what Damian had got you was a gift. While you stared in astonishment, he handed it to you awkwardly before sitting back into the chair at your side to watch you unwrap it. You spent what was probably far too long staring between Damian and the wrapped package on your lap before you finally decided to comply.
The moment you saw it, you realised what it was.
“Oh… Damian…”
Tears started sliding down your cheeks without you even noticing as you tore the rest of the packaging away and unrolled the Egyptian prayer mat out in front of you. This was the first time you had ever received a gift in your life, but even so, you were entirely unprepared for something so thoughtful.
You heard a curse at your side as Damian jumped up to grab a box of tissues. You grabbed a couple as he held them out, and he slumped back down into the chair, regret written across his features.
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” He started to apologise as he dragged a hand down his face, “I – I just thought – “
“Damian this is amazing,” You sniffed as you pulled the rug against your chest to hug it, uncaring that your tears were already soaking into it.
To finally have something to link you back to your country and your heritage again was special enough that it made your heart ache, and that it was something that you and Damian had both made together just made it even more priceless. You thought it would have been years before you were ever able to get this for yourself, and to be gifted it so readily… well, you were crying for a reason.
Your words froze the rest of Damian’s apology on its way out, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times before at last reverting to a confused frown, “I… don’t understand.”
You laughed through your tears and wiped your eyes on a sleeve.
“They’re happy tears, I promise.”
The puzzled expression cleared, “Oh.”
“This is really kind,” You mumbled, “Thank you so much.”
Dashing the tears away enough that you could actually see the prayer rug, you pulled off your gloves so you could run your hands over the plush threads and marvel at the workmanship.
“Wow, it’s clearly been hand-crafted,” You said in awe, “They got all the symbols we added just right. And the colours look amazing - you were right, the red lining looks fantastic…”
You trailed off and wiped at your eyes again before looking back around to Damian, whose expression had smoothed to something soft as he watched you intently.
“Thank you, Damian,” You said earnestly, not sure how to convey just how much the gift meant, and hoping he could read it in your eyes. “Truly, I love it.”
He didn’t nod, or shrug, or react to your thanks in any way, but instead just watched you with those intense emerald eyes.
“You deserve it,” He said at last.
You beamed at him, unrestrained and bright, and to your delight, your smile was met with a small one of his own. You felt yourself falling, drawn inexplicably into the deep eyes and devastating smile turned your way.
“I’m really happy you’re alive,” You whispered, knowing you couldn’t possibly hope to explain the depth to which you meant those words.
The eyes across from yours glittered at your words, and Damian’s answering words were as low as yours, thrumming with just as much emotion, and a double meaning you didn’t understand.
“Me too.”
Chapter 25: The Batfamily
Notes:
Alright alright alright
Time for fluff, fun, antics, alternate POV's, and a big ol' character dump
Oh, it's good to be back
(Thank you all for welcoming me back!! It makes me so happy to see you all continuing to read and enjoy <3 Take care everyone!)
Chapter Text
ALFRED
The new arrival to Wayne Manor had been here for a few days now, not that most had seen her at all, because Damian was adamantly refusing any and all visitors to her bedside. However, as supplier of food, Alfred was the only exception.
It had, of course, only become an exception when Alfred had levelled a cool stare Damian’s way, causing the steadfast glower to falter and making the young man finally step aside so Alfred could enter Amira’s bedroom with tray of food in hand. He had been careful to hide his smile at the obvious protectiveness in the gesture.
Amira’s recovery was going well.
Initially thin and pale, a few days of eating had recovered a healthier golden glow to her skin. Her unsteady gait had more strength to it now, and Damian no longer hovered quite so close when she walked around the room, but a steadying hand was still held ready just off her back when she faltered.
Alfred carefully watched the pairs interactions, interested to see the silent attention that Damian almost never deviated from the new addition to the house. Amira barely had to open her mouth to ask before Damian was already organising food, and the merest hint of a frown and he was already walking over with her next round of pain medications. He was careful to keep her entertained with drawings and books while she recovered further to deter her from being on her feet too long.
Alfred was also interested to see that while Amira’s smiles towards him were shy but genuine, they held a joyful brilliance when she looked instead to Damian. There was a clear trust and familiarity between them that Alfred was surprised but undoubtedly pleased Damian that had allowed to foster in the months they had spent in safehouses together.
Very occasionally, Damian wasn’t in Amira’s room when Alfred stopped by to hand over a meal. In those times, Alfred took full advantage of engaging the bright young lady in conversation. He found it was quite refreshing to have someone with entirely new perspectives, and in particular, he held great interest in asking about her home country of Egypt.
Alfred found Amira to be a kind, friendly, and intelligent young woman. She was just as inquisitive as Damian was in her own way, but far more open and easily trusting. Which seemed truly a miracle, based off the appalling way she had been treated all her life. She was effortlessly positive even in the face of the constant frown on Damian’s face and his quick irritation for most things. That said, Alfred was seeing less and less of the harshness he had come to associate with the young man ever since Amira had woken.
Alfred pondered over that, wondering if her brightness soothed something within the young vigilante. There were very few times that Alfred ever saw Amira without Damian at her side, the boy seemed to spend nearly every waking moment with her.
Alfred had been walking the corridors with Bruce yesterday when they had both heard voices. On passing Amira’s room and finding the door slightly ajar, they had barely glanced at each other before they both leaned in to peer carefully inside.
Damian and Amira sat on the bed with sketchbooks on their laps and pencils scattered haphazardly over the sheets. Amira appeared to be trying to copy Damian’s sketch of Goliath, and they both leaned in close, almost but not quite touching as they compared drawings.
She was laughing openly as she held her poor attempt up against Damians far more skilful interpretation. Damian was watching her with an expression far less guarded than any Alfred was used to seeing, but perhaps most shocking was the small smile that lifted his lips as he gazed her way.
Alfred and Bruce had quickly pulled back to continue quietly down the hall, only daring to speak once they entered Bruce’s office the next floor up and closed the door behind them.
Bruce had walked straight across to his drinks cabinet to pull out a couple of glasses and a bottle of whiskey that was more expensive than most cars. Alfred merely watched as two drinks were poured, and he wordlessly accepted the glass offered his way.
“He is certainly enamoured by her,” Bruce said at last.
Alfred nodded, “And her with him.”
“Have they talked about it?”
“Not as far as I can tell, Master Bruce.”
Burce sighed heavily as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass, “I admit, I was becoming concerned Damian would spend his life alone.”
Alfred couldn’t hold back his small smile, “I suspect that is no longer a concern.”
With the way Bruce’s sharp eyes looked at him, he knew the detective in him had already long since come to the same conclusion.
“Should we set her up a room?” Bruce asked.
“Perhaps.”
Alfred would hazard a guess the room a hallway away from Damian’s would be close enough, at least until there was no need for the second room at all.
“Hmm.”
“We shall not interfere,” Alfred felt the need to state, recognising the calculating expression starting to form on Bruce’s face. “I suspect it is only time that is needed to bring the two together.”
“Very well.”
The two clinked their glasses in a silent salute, and they downed the smooth liquid cheerfully.
The next morning while Alfred was busy preparing for the day in the kitchen, Damian showed up. It was good to see him, Alfred had to admit he had missed seeing him early each day while he had been on assignment these past months.
“Morning, Pennyworth,” Came Damian’s usual clipped greeting.
“Good morning, Master Damian,” In a moment of weakness, Alfred decided to offer the young man a slightly less healthy breakfast than he would usually allow, “Would you care for some pancakes?”
“Yes please.”
Damian busied himself with making his morning coffee while Alfred concentrated on the pancakes.
“How is your charge finding life at the Manor?” He asked, keeping the question light and conversational to hide his subtle probing.
Damian shrugged, “Alright, I guess. She hasn’t been out much yet.”
“Did she like her gift?”
Alfred had been surprised when Damian had reached out some weeks ago with specifics for a rush order from Egypt, of all places. But he had been quick to understand its significance once the other children began congregating at the Manor more often and Amira’s name started to become more commonplace. He was, however, interested at the slight darkening of Damian’s cheeks at his question.
Damian sat down on one of the tall stools at the kitchen table behind Alfred, answering simply, “Yes.”
Alfred made a show of pouring the pancake batter into a pan as he asked his next question.
“I imagine you’re quite pleased at her recovery.”
Now there was more suspicion in the sharp green eyes that lifted to his as Alfred glanced behind him. It was a look so much like his father’s when Bruce started to realise Alfred had a method to his line of questioning.
“She is recovering much faster than expected,” Damian replied shortly.
Alfred let the conversation lie, knowing pushing would just send Damian out the door. They instead sat in comfortable silence as Alfred cooked and Damian sipped at his coffee, at least until they heard a set of light footsteps coming down the hallway.
Ah yes. Finally, he had two early risers in the family.
Amira walked in looking sleepy, rubbing at her eyes but with an easy smile on her face. Alfred didn’t miss the way Damian’s eyes darted immediately to the woman and stayed there, drinking her in as she arrived.
“Hi, Alfred,” Her voice was cheerful but slightly raspy with sleep, “How are you?”
“Very well, thank you, Amira.” Of course, she had adamantly refused to continue to be called by any title. Alfred had allowed it on the proviso it still be used at more formal events. “Would you like breakfast?”
“Yes please,” She smiled widely at Damian as he pulled out a stool next to himself so she could join him at the table.
“Lovely, I have some pancakes on the way.”
Alfred turned most of his attention to the pancakes, but shamelessly eavesdropped as the pair at the table struck up conversation.
“Morning,” Damian greeted her, voice just above a mumble. It was early, after all.
“Hi,” Amira’s voice was pleasant, “Did you sleep well?”
There was a grunt in agreeance. “I didn’t expect you here.”
Amira snorted lightly, “Yeah well, I’m sick of staying in that room, and I figured you’d be up.”
Another grunt. “You want coffee?”
“Yes please.”
With that, Damian pushed back from the table and Alfred watched from the corner of his eye as he carefully measured out the milk and sugar he put into the mug – very unlike the black coffee he knew the young man preferred. Clearly, it was a routine he had done many times before.
“Can we see more of the Manor today?” Amira asked from behind them.
Alfred saw the small crease appear in Damian’s brow.
“Hmm…”
“I feel fine, Damian.” He found he was impressed at Amira’s easy recognition of what the non-committal noise had meant. “If I get tired or sore I’ll say something, I promise.”
Damian at last turned back to her with a sigh, passing across the coffee as he slid back into his seat.
“Fine. I’ll show you around.”
“Great!” Amira was obviously excited and proceeded to ramble at top speed. “Can I see your studio? And the Batcave? And I need to meet Goliath please so I can see just how shocking my picture actually was. Oh, and Batcow! And – “
“Okay, okay.” Damian was quick to interrupt and held out a hand placatingly. He sounded exasperated, but there was a note of humour in his voice that would have been irritation had he been talking to his siblings. “We’ll take it slow. We can work our way through the Manor, and then through the Batcave and see Batcow if you’re still feeling alright.”
There was a pause.
“And then Goliath?”
Alfred almost dropped the spatula he was holding in shock when a quiet chuckle sounded from behind him.
“Goliath tomorrow.”
“Fine.”
Alfred finally turned back to the pair with two plates of pancakes that he set down before them.
“Thanks, Alfred.”
“…Thank you.”
Damian’s thanks were less forthcoming, but it was there when it usually wasn’t, and Alfred could only put it down to the smiling woman at his side.
“That’s quite alright,” He told them both.
“Hey, Alfred?” Amira piped up while she had his attention.
“Yes, my dear?”
“Do you do the puzzles in the paper?”
Alfred shifted his gaze to note that morning’s paper had been chucked carelessly onto the table not far from them.
“Not usually,” He answered, “I must say I’m often too busy when I have so many people staying in the Manor, and prefer to spend my downtime with a good book.”
That said, Alfred was undeniably pleased to have so much of the family staying in the Manor again. It had been a long time since so many of the children had gathered and come together out of their own apartments and homes to be here, and so far, Amira was blissfully unaware it was in unofficial celebration of the newest member of the family.
“Is it okay if we do the puzzles?”
“We?” Alfred couldn’t help his surprised glance at Damian. Never before had the young man shown an interest in newspaper puzzles, stating once he found them far from a challenge. Damian glared at Alfred, as if daring him to comment further. He quickly turned back to Amira.
“Of course, help yourself.”
He watched as Amira pulled the paper towards her and separated it with familiarity to hand the sudoku to Damian so she could take the crossword. They both ducked their heads as they tucked into their food and scribbled on the papers in comfortable silence.
Alfred pottered in the kitchen, starting on prep for the days meals as he paid far too much attention to the pair behind him. Eventually, Damian passed his half of the paper on to Amira, and she slid hers slightly closer to him.
A gloved finger tapped at one of the words in front of her.
“I’m pretty sure this once is ‘necessary’ but I’m not confident with the spelling.”
Damian glanced down at it and their heads moved close together as they stared at the crossword.
“Yeah, you’re right.” He reached out and jotted down the word.
“And I think this one is ‘conscientious’,” Amira added, “Same issue.”
“Mm hmm.” Damian filled that one in as well.
Amira looked up at him now, blue eyes bright and excited. “So it’s done, right? I needed help with the spelling, but I got all the words?”
Damian looked down again at the crossword before looking up at her with a raised eyebrow.
“Yep. You did it.”
“Yes!” With a loud whoop, Amira threw up her arms in celebration, then immediately cringed and hunched over as the sudden movement no doubt pulled at her stitches. “Ow, fuck!” She wheezed.
Damian’s hands darted out reflectively towards her, but he caught himself before he made any contact. “Are you okay?”
Alfred was stunned at the concern the boy didn’t bother to hide.
“Fine,” Amira was already slowly straightening as she reassured him, “It just pulled, no tearing.”
Damian was frowning heavily as he looked her over, at last suggesting, “Maybe we should keep the activity to a minimum today.”
Amira looked over at him, and her expression was nothing less than a glare.
“Damian, if you don’t let me out of that room to walk around today, I will murder you in your sleep.”
Alfred almost blanched as he waited for Damian’s reaction, no one talked to him like that without having a ball of fury suddenly launch across the room at them.
But as he turned back in preparation to restrain a fuming Damian, he was stunned to see him sitting calmly with only a mildly unimpressed glower to show for the threat.
“Really?” He drawled, “And how would you manage that?”
Amira shrugged, “I reckon I could snatch a knife from the kitchen.”
Damian snorted, “Under Alfred’s nose? Not likely.”
Amira sent a guilty look his way, and Alfred lifted an eyebrow at her before she turned back to Damian to try again.
“Okay, I’ll smash a vase over your head.”
“Good luck lifting one heavy enough to actually kill me.”
“Fine, fine,” Amira muttered, “Then I’ll just set Ryuu on you.”
Now Damian smirked, “Now that would probably work.”
Amira grinned at him.
It was strange to see Damian interacting so peacefully with someone, and it consolidated Alfred’s opinion that the pair were likely to only grow closer. They revolved around each other like they were different sides of the same coin, complementing each other’s personalities in a way Alfred had never seen.
Amira’s positivity never seemed to dim in the face of Damian’s harshness, and Alfred was pleased he had finally found someone who could look at everything he was and not only not shy away from him, but seem to truly understand that it was a part of him. Conversely, with her abilities, it took someone who understood the darkness to be able to look past her close relationship with death to see who she truly was. Even as well as that, Amira had grown up with nothing, and that was something Damian was uniquely able to understand as a young boy suddenly abandoned by his mother at just ten years old with a father he barely knew.
Perhaps they both just needed someone who understood what it was to have darkness within them, to look them over without flinching.
The two eventually excused themselves from the kitchen, and after Alfred waved off Amira’s offer to help with the dishes, they left, chatting quietly as they walked down the hallways.
Alfred was left happier than he had been in a long time. Damian was no longer the silently angry boy he had come to expect, and instead was an understatedly kind young man who had finally found someone to care about.
It gave him hope for the future, and that one day when he was no longer around, Wayne Manor would still be filled with light and laughter.
AMIRA
You had been quick to pull Elizabeth and Carol to you at Wayne Manor. The last thing you wanted was for the pair of ghosts to grow disgruntled at being left behind again. As they appeared with a gasp, Carol stopped in place to stare around in astonishment at your surroundings, but Elizabeth’s sharp gaze narrowed immediately in on you.
“What happened?”
You splayed your hands out in front of you in a gesture of appeasement.
“Look, I got you here as soon as I could,” Your tone was pleading under the deadly stare. “Things have been a little… intense.”
“It’s been two whole weeks!” Carol now turned your way to exclaim, before pausing and cocking her head, “I think.”
Ghosts had a particularly bad sense of time. Much like with Ryuu, living for centuries tended to make the days blur together.
Elizabeth’s gaze hadn’t deviated from yours.
“So what happened?”
“Um,” For a moment you hesitated, trying to figure out if there was a good way to explain things. Probably not.
“I got shot,” You ended up saying bluntly, “I was in ICU for a few days before I was brought back here to recover.”
Both ghosts blinked at you for a moment, then their demanding questions overlapped as they both jumped in at once.
“What?” Carol exclaimed, “Are you okay?”
“What is ICU?” Elizabeth just looked confused.
“Intensive care – it’s part of a hospital,” Carol paused briefly to explain to her companion before turning back to you in alarm, “But never mind that, you got shot?? How? Why? What happened? Where’s Damian?”
Elizabeth was nodding along to Carol’s rapid-fire questions, “Did your vision come true?”
You had to take a step back from the quickly intensifying questions.
“Woah woah, one at a time!” Your flustered order at least had both women closing their mouths to wait intently for some answers. You took a deep breath in.
“Yes, I got shot. It was a trap from the Grey Hawks. Obviously, I survived and I’m healing well.” You gestured vaguely towards the door of your room, “Damian’s fine, he’s here. This is his house, in fact.”
“He lives here?” Out of everything you had said, it was that part that Elizabeth seemed to get stuck on. She looked around again with wide eyes, “Can you call this a house?”
But Carol was starting to look more excited by the second, “Holy crap, this is Wayne Manor?”
“Yup.”
“You’re staying here?” She demanded, “For good??”
“No… No, just until the Grey Hawks are dealt with.”
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed again, “Then where will you go?”
You hesitated and knew the women wouldn’t miss your poorly disguised grimace.
“I’m, um, I’m not really sure.”
Both ghosts sized you up for a moment, and you saw the looks were both assessing and worried. At last, Carol sniffed.
“Well, I suppose we can forgive you the time it had taken to get us here then.”
You smothered your grin at her vague attempt at an accusatory tone.
“Thanks, Carol.”
Elizabeth was watching you more carefully, “Everything turned out okay then?”
“Yeah…”
The last time you had been with these two, you had been slowly falling apart with despair and stress as you struggled to find a way to save Damian’s life. Although to save him you had been badly injured yourself, everything had somehow seemed to fall into place.
A small smile broke through on your face. Somehow, despite the odds, you had saved Damian.
“Yeah, I guess it did.”
The look in Elizabeth’s eyes softened, “I’m pleased to hear that.”
“Can you please show us around Wayne Manor?” Carol interrupted, “I’m dying to have a look around!” On seeing Elizabeth’s raised eyebrow, she rolled her eyes at her, “You know what I mean!”
“I haven’t even had a good look myself yet,” You chuckled, “Damian’s going to take me around in a bit.”
“Where is the young man?” Elizabeth asked.
“His room’s in a different hallway to mine.”
Carol grinned and waggled her eyebrows suggestively, “No bed sharing here then?”
You wrinkled your nose at her, but couldn’t help the laugh, “Oh, stop it.” But you quickly grew more serious and bit your lip as you continued, “Look, guys, there’s a few people coming in and out around here. Obviously, you’re ghosts so you can go wherever you want, but…”
Elizabeth huffed in apparent offense, “Don’t worry, we know how to give people their privacy.”
“The first time I met you, you both were standing over me watching while I slept,” You pointed out blandly.
Both women blushed as much as ghosts could.
“We… will agree to give people their privacy.”
“Good.”
The door to your room opened as your conversation ended, and Damian stared around in narrow-eyed confusion as he noted the lack of anyone else he could see in the space.
“Who are you talking to?”
You smiled on seeing his puzzled look, “Elizabeth and Carol.”
The expression cleared. “The ghosts are back?”
“I brought them here.”
For a moment, Damian looked like he was going to ask further questions, but then he just shrugged.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes!”
You were beyond excited to finally be able to get out of your room and explore the Manor properly. You had heard about the immense size of Wayne Manor, but from only your room, there was no way to truly appreciate its enormity. Quick to follow Damian, the ghosts fell into place a few paces behind you both, and Ryuu uncurled from its spot on the bed to trot curiously at your side.
Even with everything you had heard about the Manor, seeing it was still awe inspiring. Every inch of it held the plush and overstated furnishings of old money, and the size of some of the rooms and dazzlingly high ceilings had you pausing often to try and take in the enormity of it. You decided that even with a large family of vigilantes in and out of it, the Manor still had far too many rooms to possibly all be of use.
Ryuu seemed to enjoy darting back and forth to sniff different areas, and Carol and Elizabeth kept up a steady chorus of ooh’s and ahh’s behind you as you walked through a multitude of rooms.
Damian, for his part, seemed bored, as if this outing was any other day. You supposed it would be to him, living in a place like this must desensitise one to its grandeur. As uninterested as he seemed, you picked up as soon as his indifference turned suddenly more tense.
You had paused outside of closed double doors, and Damian was clearly deciding whether to open them. Arching a brow, you waited for him to explain his hesitance.
“These are my rooms,” He admitted at last.
You glanced sharply back to the closed door with far more interest, then realised just what he had said.
“Rooms?” Damian didn’t react to your echo of the plurality of his words, but your excitement was quickly growing as you asked eagerly. “Can we go in?”
Although Damian’s unease was front and centre, you still saw the flash of amusement in his eyes on seeing your obvious curiosity. He didn’t answer, and merely pushed the door open to step aside and let you step through.
As he had said, there were multiple rooms. You first stepped into a large sitting room with couches, armchairs and bookshelves. From there it broke off multiple ways into an office, bathroom, and even small private kitchen. Despite Damian’s clear discomfort at having someone walking through his rooms and gawking openly, you couldn’t help yourself from poking your head into his bedroom as well.
The whole place seemed a direct compliment of Damian’s personality. The finishings were fine and clearly expensive in dark mahogany and silks, but the décor wasn’t as overtly opulent as many of the other rooms of the Manor. It was well kept and thoughtfully laid out, very tidy, but with the odd thing out of place, letting you know that these rooms were somewhere Damian felt comfortable actually living.
A book had been left out on the table. An empty cup sat near his bed. A few throwing stars were strewn across a couch facing a wall of carefully hanging weapons – clearly thrown carelessly instead of placed back into their assigned place. Some photos atop a large fireplaces mantlepiece were awry, as if often picked up and studied.
You felt your forehead crease as you walked across to these, and were aware that Damian’s gaze tracked your progress carefully as you took them in. There weren’t many, most showed pictures of the wider family as a group. But one didn’t include Damian at all, and it was to this that your eyes were drawn.
A younger version of Bruce Wayne stood next to a truly stunning woman with dark skin and sharp eyes. Neither of them were smiling, exactly, but both seemed strangely content as they leaned against the other. You almost did a double take as you recognised the elegant sloping lines of her face and the brilliant green eyes that stared back out at you.
“Is this… your mother?”
You glanced back to see Damian standing with crossed arms a pace behind you. His gaze – the exact same emerald green – watched you with careful wariness.
But he nodded briefly and gave you just one word; a name, “Talia.”
Ra’s al Ghul’s daughter was clinical in her cruelty. Ryuu rumbled from your feet as it too looked up to the photo, and you realised your familiar’s words were solely for you. But there was no doubting her skill, or the love she held for her only son.
You were careful not to react to the observation and continued to stare at the woman in the photo that looked so much like her son that she almost appeared familiar.
“You look like her.”
“People often say I look more like my father.”
“I disagree.” They had the same sharp eyes and angular features. While Damian had his father’s heavy brows and thick hair, you could see the red-hot emotion sitting close to the surface in this woman’s face. No doubt she was as dangerous as he was.
You smiled back at Damian, hoping to diffuse some of his obvious tension. “Perhaps I am more familiar with the Middle Eastern features.”
But as you looked over the other photos, you stopped on one with a delighted gasp.
“Oh my Gods!”
You snatched up the photo to turn it around and show Damian which one had grabbed your attention next. This one starred a young Damian Wayne in a line with his siblings, each of them frozen as they worked with a bo staff. He can’t have been more than twelve years in the photo, and you were thrilled to get a glimpse at the large man before you as a much shorter and rounder-cheeked teenager.
“You were adorable!” You crowed. Damian’s head actually jerked back at that, the expression crossing it impressively displeased.
“Adorable?”
You turned the photo back around to stare at it some more, grinning unrestrainedly at the teenaged Damian.
“How can you look at this and think you were anything other than cute!” You demanded.
Damian opened and closed his mouth multiple times before he let out a gusty, irritated sigh.
“I… have no idea what to say to that.”
You laughed openly as you placed the photo back amongst the others, and were pleased to see the tension had disappeared from the strong shoulders across from you. Wandering away from the photos, you sat down on a couch that wasn’t covered in throwing stars and tucked your legs beneath you.
“Why do you have so many rooms to yourself?” You asked. Damian crossed to an armchair across from you and perched on its edge. Ryuu leapt up onto the cushion of the chair and padded around in circles, purring in obvious approval at the thick pillow.
“Father has the largest wing,” Damian explained as he watched Ryuu settle, “While everyone has their own rooms, I have the second largest.”
“Why?”
“When Father… passes, Wayne Manor will pass to me as the blood son,” Damian shrugged, “The rest of the family have their own homes or apartments elsewhere. Apart from Alfred, I’m the only other permanent resident.”
You moved on shortly after that, and at your excited insistence and despite Damian’s grumblings that it was too much for you in one day, you made a beeline down to the Batcave.
You loved it. The grandfather clock that led down to the cave after playing certain notes on a piano was cool. The vast cave that arched up high and was carved around stalagmites and stalactites at its edges was cool. The quiet sound of slowly dripping water echoing around you was cool. The multitude of platforms that had been built into and around the cave and the way they were all interconnected was cool. And the sprawling futuristic equipment and multiple training spaces among it all were cool.
“This is so incredibly cool,” You said.
Damian sent you a dry look and you shrugged. You knew your exuberance at seeing it all had been obvious, but you had to make sure he knew, just in case.
But he then took you over into one corner to meet Batcow – an honest to Gods cow set up with some water and feed on one platform. It was very friendly, letting you pat it and leaning into the contact for more scratches. It certainly seemed pleased to see Damian, and you couldn’t help your soft smile on seeing the vigilante pause to kneel and scratch under Batcow’s chin with murmured greetings.
“I admit, a part of me wondered if you were joking about having a cow.”
Damian looked up at that, and he almost smiled. But Batcow became skittish when Ryuu approached, perhaps instinctively knowing there was more danger to the kitten than the small form suggested.
“Okay, moving on.”
You really had wanted to see Goliath after that, but you were finally noticing your reduced fitness after walking around the entirety of the Manor all day. As you made your way towards the main doors to head outside, you noted Damian’s steps growing shorter than usual to match your slowing pace, and he glanced aside at you with growing concern.
“How are you feeling?”
At least he was making an attempt to be tactful.
“A bit tired,” You admitted. He didn’t call you out on the obvious understatement either.
“I can take you to see Goliath another day,” He offered instead after a pause.
You sighed. You really had been looking forward to seeing the Dragon-Bat, but you couldn’t deny the exhaustion that was starting to creep up on you.
“Alright.”
Damian saw your disgruntled look, and this time, a hint of a smile did cross his face.
“You’ve done well, considering.”
You rolled your eyes at him, “Thanks.”
The slight smile grew, then Damian turned and began walking you back the other way, heading for the bedrooms.
“I’ll take you back to your room.”
“Actually…” He paused in place as you did, “I’m pretty hungry. Maybe we could eat?”
To your surprise, Damian sighed heavily. “I’ve been afraid of this.”
You frowned at him, “Of… hunger?”
“Of dinnertime,” Damian grimaced. At your strange look, he explained in a mutter, “The whole family has been here every night waiting for you to join them. It has been… unpleasant.”
You stifled a laugh.
“Unpleasant how?”
Damian sniffed and stood straighter, counting on his fingers for each person he mentioned.
“Stephanie had been annoying me with gossip I don’t care about while trying to pass it on to you. Dick is asking after us both at every turn. Timothy has been trying to stay up each night even when he really shouldn’t and has fallen asleep into his food at least three times.”
Damian’s irritation grew as he continued, “Jason has been starting food fights just to annoy Bruce. Father is getting more annoyed by the night while Alfred is getting strangely happier with each meal. And Cassandra…” He trailed off before shrugging, “Actually, Cass is okay.”
You couldn’t help the giggles that were escaping, “Wow, okay.”
“It’s not funny,” Damian looked affronted, “My family knows nothing of manners or… decency.”
“I’ve already met most of them, Damian.”
He muttered something under his breath that you didn’t catch before speaking louder.
“Fine, fine. I’ll let Alfred know you’re coming for dinner, and no doubt the rest of the horde will hear soon enough.”
You grinned.
But when you walked down to dinner later that day, nerves were starting to kick in. You couldn’t help realising this was the first time you would see many of them out of costume. Not to mention you were overly aware that you would be dining with the entire Wayne family, and you had no idea what to expect.
Damian noticed your growing anxiety, because of course he did.
“You’ve already met most of them,” He reminded you quietly as you reached the double doors that would lead you into the dining room. You sent a grateful smile his way, and side by side, you walked inside.
You came to an immediate halt. The number of people seated around the massive table stunned you, and you heard Damian’s low curse at your side.
“For fucks sake.”
Around the table sat the faces you were expecting; Bruce, Steph, Tim, Dick, Jason, a smaller woman with a gentle smile and dark hair you assumed was Cass. Alfred stood off to one side. But you also recognised Jon, and next to him, an older man that was almost his splitting image. A heavily pregnant woman with orange hair and glowing green eyes sat next to Dick, and next to Bruce sat a stunning woman with sharp eyes, bright lips, and a pixie cut.
Every one of them turned your way as you walked in with large smiles, and at the sudden, overwhelming attention, you took an involuntary step into Damian’s side. You still didn’t quite touch him, but he turned towards you slightly in a move that was both reassuring and protective, and some of your apprehension eased.
Rising from the table in a move that defied gravity, Jon was suddenly darting to your side, waving enthusiastically.
“It’s so good to see you up!” He gushed, “I heard – well, I heard the emergency beacon when you got hurt, and I freaked out. But I heard you get help shortly after, so I was convinced to stay away for a little longer.”
Glancing aside to Damian, you saw the strained expression on his face as he warned his friend.
“Jon…”
“Sorry, sorry. I’m just… I’m really glad you’re okay!”
You couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up despite Damian’s annoyed glare.
“Yeah, me too.”
“Amira!” A new shout reached you just before Steph bounded up. As she reached you, she pulled the hood of her hoodie up over her head, grabbed the strings and yanked hard so it pulled almost entirely shut around her face. “No skin, right?” Her voice was muffled through the fabric.
“Uh…”
She threw herself at you, grabbing on tight to your shoulders and pulling you in close to hug you hard. You froze in place. You had never been hugged in your life. But here, Steph had covered her face, and you both wore long sleeves and long pants, and you wore gloves.
Suddenly you were hugging her back just as hard. You could hug someone. Steph had made sure there wasn’t possibility of skin contact, and had hugged you.
You felt tears prick at your eyes.
Damian’s irritated voice broke through, “Don’t break her, Stephanie.”
“Oh shut up,” Steph’s voice was muffled against your shoulder, “I’ve never been able to hug her before and she almost died, just give me this.”
Almost died. The words gave you pause, but you knew you had been badly injured and in ICU for a few days, you guessed that officially meant you had been close to death. Steph pulled back a few moments later, opening her hoodie back up and wiping at her own eyes.
“You can come sit by me and Cass,” She smiled.
Damian startled at that, “Huh?”
Steph poked her tongue out at him, “You’ve been hogging all her time for the last few weeks. So she sits with us tonight.”
“Hey Amira,” Jason called across the room, “Can you hurry up and sit so I can eat?”
You couldn’t help your small smile, knowing the annoyed comment covered a more genuine happiness that you were here. You let Steph grab your gloved hand and pull you over to the table where a seat waited for you between her and the small woman with black hair.
“Hello,” You smiled at her as you sat, “You must be Cass.”
The woman touched her chest, “Cass,” She said with a smile. Her voice was quiet but warm, “Welcome. Happy.”
You tilted her head, not expecting the stilted words. Across the table, Dick smiled at you.
“Cass doesn’t talk much, she usually uses sign language.”
You blinked across at him, then turned back to Cass. Raising your hands, you signed.
It is very nice to meet you. I wanted to thank you for the clothes.
The grin that suddenly split Cass’ face was enormous, and she hurriedly signed back.
It was a gift for the one who could tame the demon.
You laughed. I’m not so sure about that.
Around the table, people stared at you.
“You know sign language?” Damian’s surprised voice cut across your laughter, and you glanced his way to where he now sat between Dick and Jon.
“Some people at the homeless shelters were elderly, they can’t afford hearing aids.” You shrugged, “People had to adapt.”
Jon looked up at the large man at his side, “See? I told you she was cool.”
The man smiled at you from across the table, “Yes you did.” He extended a hand towards you, “Hi, I’m Clark.”
You stared at the hand you were 99.9% sure belonged to Superman, but Jon beat you to the awkward explanation.
“Just wave, Dad. She can’t touch people’s skin.”
“Ah,” Clark – Superman – pulled his hand back with an understanding smile and waved instead, “My apologies, I did actually know that. But it’s good to meet you at last.”
Damian was peering around at him suspiciously.
“Why are you here?” He demanded.
“Damian,” It was Dick who murmured the quiet admonishment for his tone, but it was Bruce who answered fully.
“I invited them.”
Damian’s glare swung around to his father instead, and you followed his stare questioningly. It didn’t escape you that the man sitting at the head of the table was Batman. And although you had met him before, when the icy blue eyes turned your way, it took a lot not to sink into your seat under the stare. It was intense, and it was easy to see where Damian got his stoic and piercing stare.
But to your surprise when Bruce looked your way, he was smiling apologetically.
“It’s not often I’m able to get everyone together like this, so I’ve taken full advantage of the occasion. The others you haven’t met are Selina, my partner,” He gestured to the woman at his side who smiled at you while at the same time seeming to appraise you carefully, “And Kori.”
You looked across to the alien woman who sat at Dick’s side, she smiled kindly.
“We haven’t met properly, at least. I wanted to thank you for your vision, we have already named our child.”
Damian blinked at Dick, “You have?”
This also seemed to be news to the rest of the table, save Bruce, who had a strange, lopsided grin on his face.
Dick grinned across at him, “Thomas.”
While everyone else was quick to congratulate the pair, Steph groaned.
“I thought you promised me I could name him after I saved your life that last time.”
Dick rolled his eyes, “You mean the time you set a building on fire and Tim and Cass had to pull us out? And no, I never did agree to that.”
Steph huffed, “It was a mutual saving.”
Tim scowled at her, “No it was not.”
Cass was rolling her eyes as she too signed, It was definitely just me and Tim doing the saving.
Steph glowered and sunk down in her chair, “Whatever.”
Jason started laughing.
At that moment, Alfred entered the room again pushing a cart laden with food. You were startled when he walked all the way around the table to you, putting the first plate in front of you.
“Welcome, Mistress Amira. It truly is a pleasure to have you at my table for the first time. I have made sure your meal is vegetarian, as Master Damian’s is.”
Mistress. You noted the small reactions of surprise from around the table at the title, which you only realised now was not the ‘Miss’ he called the other women. Why not Miss? You weren’t sure, and it seemed neither was anyone else.
Except Bruce, you realised, who shared a small smile with Alfred before the elderly butler began serving plates to the rest of the table. You turned away from the curiosity as chatter and conversation quickly picked up as people dug heartily into the food.
“So Amira,” Jason leaned forward so he could see you around Steph, a glint in his eye, “May I be the first to say, welcome to the club!”
Groans sounded from the people around you, but you were confused.
“Club?”
“Your first experience with being dead!” He crowed, “How exciting!”
You frowned at him, you hadn’t died, but again, maybe coming close counted around here. You glanced across to Damian to see he was looking distinctly uncomfortable and was avoiding your gaze.
Dick was sighing loudly at his side as he started to cut into his food, “Really, Jay?”
“What?” Jason’s protest was muffled around a large mouthful.
Tim sighed as he passed over the food to prioritise refilling his coffee, “Most of us are part of it now.”
You turned to stare at him instead, appalled and quickly distracted from your thoughts, “What? Really?”
“Yup,” Jason really seemed far too cheerful about this, “Joker got me.”
Steph put her hand up, “Black Mask.”
Tim took another sip of his coffee, “Drone army.”
Dick leaned back with a sigh, apparently willing to join in, “Lex Luthor.”
You stared next at Damian, who glared across at Jason as he mumbled, “Heretic.”
When you turned to look at Cass on your other side, she just shrugged. You blinked back at the larger group, stunned.
“How often do near death experiences happen to you people?”
The answer was echoed by multiple people at once, “Daily.”
You couldn’t help your gaze slide sideways to Damian as your stomach hollowed, “Oh.”
“Don’t worry Amira,” Steph patted your gloved hand, “No one has had a true death yet.”
Jason waggled his eyebrows, “Yet,” He echoed significantly.
A small tug at your sleeve had you looking back to Cass, We have bets on who is going to be the first.
“That’s… kind of fucked up.”
“I think it’s going to be Tim,” Steph declared, “He’s so tired all the time, he’s bound to misstep.”
Tim lifted his head with a smirk, “Or you – who will be too busy taking selfies to notice being stabbed in the back.”
Steph laughed easily, “Ouch.”
I have money on Jason, Cass signed, He’s the most reckless.
“Well I think it’s definitely going to be Damian,” Jason said with a grin, “One day he’ll piss the wrong person off.”
“The only person who was able to kill me, was me.” Damian snapped.
Now joining the conversation, Jon grinned and patted his friend’s shoulder briefly, “That’s the spirit.”
“Who knows, maybe you’ll grow sick of living with yourself,” Jason continued, seeming to enjoy incensing Damian further. But then he turned your way, “What do you reckon, Amira?”
You thought for a while, then surprised everyone by pointing at Dick.
“Me?” He exclaimed, affronted.
“You rely too much on your smile,” You grinned, “Someone will take advantage while you’re busy thinking you’re funny.”
Laughter sounded around you, and Cass clapped in delight. Even Kori joined in on the laughter, leaning over to kiss Dick’s cheek lightly as he grumbled and blushed.
“I’m a funny guy,” He complained. “The criminals love it.”
Damian pushed around the food on his plate, “I’m glad someone does,” He grumbled.
You laughed, and his cheeks darkened ever so slightly under your attention.
Steph noticed the exchange and winked at you, “So, Deathweaver, you keen for some fun?”
“Fun?” You echoed.
Tim sighed and leaned back in his chair, “Really, Steph?”
Cass was pulling cutlery towards herself as she started to look sideways at everyone with narrowed eyes. Dick was looking excited.
“It’s not often we get so many people here,” He eyed Clark and Selina.
Jon was grinning ear to ear, “Yes! I’ve always wanted to be a part of this!”
Damian was glaring between his siblings. “No. No, absolutely not.”
But Steph’s grin could not be dimmed, and she turned to the suddenly devious looking man at her side.
“Jason,” She announced with flair, “Now.”
You watched as Jason picked up a large wad of mashed potato, drew his arm back, and launched it towards the head of the table, where it splattered straight into the face of Bruce Wayne, who had been quietly conversing with Clark and Selina.
There was a moment of stillness, where everyone held their breath as they watched the Batman slowly turn his head towards Jason, expression equal parts fury and shock as potato dripped from his face.
To your immense surprise, it was Cass who leapt up from her chair first, her battle cry the catalyst to the ensuing chaos.
“Food fight!”
Bedlam erupted. Next to you, Steph picked up her entire plate of food and threw it at Tim’s face, who smacked it aside, only for it to end up all over Clark. Cass was throwing her gathered cutlery like daggers at Jon, who was laughing so hard that most of them actually hit him despite his attempts to dodge, but it did no damage to his impervious skin. To your surprise, Selina was quick to jump into the fray, picking up a pitcher of gravy with a delighted grin and launching it towards Dick and Kori. Dick did the gentlemanly thing of jumping in front of his pregnant wife and ended up covered in it while she laughed heartily.
Damian sat quietly, simply gazing around the melee with a defeated expression, but Jason had loaded up another handful of potato and threw it at him. As it smacked into his face and exploded across it, you burst out laughing, and the expression quickly morphed to fury as Damian now launched himself across the table to tackle Jason to the ground.
At the head of the table, both Bruce and Clark stared at each other in shock as they looked down at their food covered clothing. But then Clark grinned and went swooping up from his chair with an entire steak in hand.
“Oh it’s on, Dark Knight.”
The steak went whizzing towards Bruce’s head, but he backflipped out of the chair and sent a flurry of carrots back towards his assailant.
Already splattered with ricochets of food and drink, you stared around the mess of fighting people, stunned at the turn of events. But quickly, you found you were smiling, and you jumped up to help Cass, picking up a jug of icy water to throw it at Jon.
You loved being part of a family.
Chapter 26: Wayne Manor
Notes:
Hello, hello
Here's a longer one for you, with some fluff and some hurt/comfort, and then moving from here the slow burn part of this fic will FINALLY start to burn <3
Also, some answers to some FAQs:
1 - sorry, Amira is not going to meet Talia in this fic
2 - However, Amira will meet Talia in the next fic (surprise! - coming 2025)
3 - I've worked out the remaining chapters vs the end of the year, and the last chapter will be finishing this fic off the week before Christmas :)As always, thank you all so much for the continued support!!
Chapter Text
AMIRA
Living in Wayne Manor was like a dream. You got to wake up each morning in a massive bed with no worry of if you would be there again tomorrow. The thick walls kept out all of Gotham’s miserable weather, always keeping you warm and dry. If you were hungry all you had to do was glance in the general direction of the kitchen and Alfred would rush to whip you up something delicious to eat. That was all without Damian also watching your every move like a hawk. At the first sign that you might need something he was already onto it. Everything he did for you, he did with poorly hidden concern even as he watched your injury heal faster by the day.
You had never had so little to worry about, or been so spoiled, and you couldn’t quite decide how you felt about that. It almost felt like cheating, to go from so much hardship to the height of luxury just because you had somehow fallen into favour with the right people.
In the first couple of weeks, Damian almost never left your side. You saw him every morning for breakfast in the kitchen, and then you would spend your days together finding activities to do around the Manor.
He often hovered close, and from the moment you entered a room with him in it, even if he didn’t look your way, it still felt like you had his complete attention. It was a massive house, with plenty of rooms and space. If someone wanted to keep to themselves, it would be far from hard. So with the amount of time Damian spent with you, you couldn’t help feeling like maybe he didn’t want to leave your side.
That thought made you quietly but immeasurably happy.
Although it was with less constant intensity than Damian watched you, you watched him too. Every time he moved your eyes seemed dragged to his form to see what he was doing. Too many times, you realised you had been staring too long at Damian’s strong features, or a wayward lock of hair that escaped his impeccably styled hair to drape over his forehead, or at the muscles of his forearms as they flexed subtlety while he sketched. Too many times you felt heat rise to your cheeks as you dragged your gaze away as you prayed to the Gods that Damian might not notice your increased attention.
If he did notice, he never said anything.
You were relieved when your morning routines from the safehouses just seemed to transfer over to Wayne Manor. Each morning you made your way to the kitchen to find Damian already there, and each morning on seeing you he would still stand to fix you a coffee just the way you preferred. You would exchange puzzles while you ate, and when you finished a crossword by yourself, you would show it off to Damian with pride. He might nod when you presented him with a finished crossword, but you saw the small smile he tried to hide all the same and knew, in his own subdued way, he was also proud.
Of course, there was the addition of Alfred bustling around in the background, and he now insisted on fixing your breakfast in the mornings. He sometimes provided easy conversation, but also seemed happy to melt into the background and quietly listen. You quickly got the impression that Alfred was mightily satisfied seeing the two of you interact, and wondered why that was.
Of course, things changed when Damian was given the all-clear to go back on patrol with the others. You continued to meet him for breakfast, as he still waited for you after each patrol before he went to bed. But when he would then go off to sleep for a few hours, there were often other members of the family willing to take up your time until Damian woke.
You spent a full day teaching Alfred how to make an Arabic meal. The elderly man in turn taught you how to make a killer soufflé and you both presented your works for dinner that night to the general delight of the others.
Cass and Steph took you through their extensive wardrobes and from their extras, bestowed an entire wardrobe of your own upon you. It was fun to play a bit of dress ups, and you even joined carefully in with braiding the other girl’s hair.
Jason walked you through the library, pointing out what chairs were the comfiest and where the quietest spots were for when you didn’t want to be disturbed. Tim took you more thoroughly through the Batcave and enthusiastically answered every question you had on their tech and gadgets. Dick was the one to sit you down and check in that you had everything you needed and just how were you getting on.
Ryuu was just pleased to finally have a large place to roam that wasn’t the streets of Gotham. Your familiar seemed happy to leave your side longer than it had ever dared before, to instead run around the sprawling gardens and acres of land around the Manor. It seemed the rest of the family who had seen your familiar’s true dragon form were still a little wary around it, but they still leaned down to scratch the small fluffy head whenever it passed. You were surprised that Ryuu allowed it, and could only assumed it trusted them.
At one point, Alfred had offered to put cat food out for your familiar, and you had laughed hysterically at the offended sniff the small kitten had managed to pull off before explaining that Ryuu was more than happy to join the other cats around the Manor in controlling the mice and rabbits around the grounds.
Elizabeth and Carol were also loving life – or rather – death. Suddenly, they had a massive building to explore and investigate and a large amount of people coming through and doing interesting things for them to follow around if they so wished. After mentioning their presence to Alfred, he had dedicated a smaller sitting room to them. In it was a TV that continuously displayed the latest drama shows for Carol, and a large number of cooking and history books open at different pages for Elizabeth to browse. Each day as part of your routine, you would spend a little time with the ghosts, chat to Carol about her shows, and turn the pages of Elizabeth’s books.
You walked around the Manor every morning with Damian after breakfast now, and helped him feed the multitude of animals that lived there. You immensely enjoyed getting to see and pat Goliath, Batcow and Alfred the cat each day, and Damian seemed silently pleased to have the company. Or at least he hadn’t complained when you joined him each day – so that was good enough.
The only person you hadn’t seen much of was Bruce Wayne himself.
There were moments of interaction, mostly over dinners that most of the family turned up to. During these he might ask you simple questions about your day or how your recovery was going, but they never seemed to stray from the most basic of topics, and the rest of his more rambunctious children were usually quick to steer your attention elsewhere. Bruce seemed to barely be around the Manor during the day, often far too busy with splitting his time between his work at Wayne Industries and his work as Batman.
You wondered what he thought of your friendship with his youngest son. You wondered if he even liked you, despite his civil questions during dinners, or if your presence here was merely being tolerated. As it was, every time that icy blue gaze flicked to you, it felt like you were being silently picked apart and studied at every opportunity.
But with the extended time at the Manor surrounded by so many more people, something happened that you hadn’t anticipated, and your glimpses of the future during meditations that had once revolved around yourself and Damian, now started to extend to the rest of the family as well.
You found your gaze sliding across to Tim more than a few times one night at dinner, struggling with yourself and whether to voice your concerns. The snap of his bones still rung through your mind after meditating earlier that day, and you shuffled on your chair before glancing his way again, wondering if the tired looking man would be as against knowing his future as Damian was.
To your embarrassment, when you looked over this time, Tim was staring right back at you.
“Do I have something on my face?”
His tone was mild and held humour, but also a curiosity that had Damian and Steph looking up at his sides. You twisted your fingers together under the table as you stared back. You had never been in a position of being around so many people that you cared to truly help before. Usually when you saw people’s futures, it had been for an exchange of cash back in the slums of Gotham, and so you’d had no qualms over changing things, or been worried about how to present the information.
But like you had found with Damian, suddenly you found that these were futures you’d seen that you could change, but did they actually want the knowledge? Should you tell them even if they didn’t?
Eventually deciding to just give a vague push towards safety, you kept your answer simple.
“You should bring an extra grappling hook tonight.”
The table went silent as everyone turned to look your way. Tim blinked at you, no doubt surprised at your abrupt words, but then the easy curiosity and humour on his face turned to mild horror as he seemed to realise what you were saying.
“What?”
At the head of the table, Bruce was leaning forward, expression intense and harsh.
“What did you see?” He demanded.
Looking away from the many staring eyes that made you suddenly feel the freak you had been all your life once more, you pushed your barely touched plate of food away from you and stood. If the sick feeling in your stomach was anything to go by, maybe you shouldn’t have said anything after all.
Glancing once more at Tim as you turned to leave, you muttered, “Just do it,” And hurried from the room.
Damian came after you a little while later, but you refused to talk about it, and he seemed to get the hint. Instead, you both drew in companionable silence until he had to leave for patrol, and you were pleased that you got a smile out of him when you held up the purposefully poorly drawn Alfred the Cat against his realistic sketch.
But you couldn’t sleep overnight, and instead you tossed and turned, wondering if Tim had taken your vague warning into account and packed a second grapple hook. Your vision of his cable snapping and sending him plummeting to the ground played over and over again in your head, the loud snapping as he hit the ground making you feel sick.
Eventually you just dragged yourself out of bed and made your way down to the Batcave, wrapped in blankets to ward off the worst of the chill. You knew only waiting to see if Tim was okay would soothe your mind at all.
To your surprise, Alfred joined you shortly after your arrival. He brought down two steaming mugs of tea and passed you one before sitting down beside you. You took a long sip, thankful for both the warmth and the soothing properties of the drink.
“They’re not quite sure what to make of your abilities yet,” Alfred said at last.
You blew out a breath, knowing the uneasy looks you had experienced at the dinner table had meant exactly that, but it was still hard to see. It dragged up every judging look and every nasty insult in your past, directed your way from people who had never cared to understand or try and look past the idea of a witch touched by dark magic in their minds.
While you knew this family was far from the judgemental and hateful people you had been surrounded by in your past, a part of you was still terrified their opinion of you might change, and every friendship you had made could still be wrenched away from you.
“I guess that’s fair,” You answered quietly.
“However,” Alfred continued as he elegantly stirred his tea before taking a leisurely sip, “Tim did pack the second grapple hook.”
You jerked your head around to look at him, hope flaring, “He did?”
There was a small smile from the elderly man, accompanied by a twinkle in his eye.
“Damian was the one to convince him.”
You may as well have melted into a little puddle then. Damian had been the one to convince him. Damian who didn’t want the future to interfere with his life, but who clearly trusted you enough to take your words as absolute and convince Tim into accepting them.
You tried and failed to keep the small smile from your own face as you turned to look back out at the heavy entrance doors far back in the cave.
“That’s good.”
Alfred now set his small cup down beside him.
“If I might be so bold, I would suggest you do not hesitate to share your knowledge with the others.”
You were surprised enough that you looked back to him as he continued, “While perhaps they do not need to know all that you see, a small push in the right direction such as tonight was certainly enough to make a difference.”
The look in Alfred’s eyes was warm and proud, and it made you feel strangely vulnerable but… happy.
“Thank you, Alfred.”
A comforting hand laid itself carefully on the blankets covering your shoulder.
“My dear, do not doubt yourself for simply having other’s best interests at heart.”
The pair of you lapsed into silence as you sipped at your drinks and waited for the last hours to fall away. Eventually, the heavy entrance doors opened, and bikes and cars soon sped through them into the cave.
You jumped up, heart thumping as people started getting out of and off the vehicles, but your anxiety quickly settled as you recognised the Red Robin standing amongst the others. He was quick to push his way past them and start walking quickly towards you.
Walking. Thank the Gods.
You opened your mouth to say something as he approached, but it turned into a sound of surprise that was muffled against Tim’s chest as he pulled you into a crushing hug.
“Thank you,” He murmured down to you, and you didn’t miss the slight tremor in his voice. “That was closer than I would have liked.”
He pulled back quickly and put some space between you, which was probably a good thing as Damian was now starting to make his way over with an impressive scowl on his face.
You shrugged self-consciously, pleased that he was okay, and pleased that Tim wasn’t as freaked out by your abilities as he had seemed at dinner.
“It wouldn’t have killed you,” You assured.
Tim raised an eyebrow, “No?”
Your answering smile was weak, “Just two broken femurs and a cracked skull.”
Tim stared for a moment, then burst out laughing, hard enough that he actually bent over clutching his stomach. You watched with more than a little concern, but he at last got a hold of himself and stood, reaching out to ruffle your hair with a last chuckle, which you ducked out from with a grumble as you tried to flatten it again.
“To think I was doubting you,” He chuckled, “You’re a guardian angel after all.”
“I told you.”
It was Damian’s voice that cut in, tone irritated and pointed as he reached your side. You looked him up and down as he approached you, relieved as you always were to find him unharmed after patrol. He appeared to take you in just as carefully, and although he said nothing, he stepped in close to your side in a move that was silently reassuring. Reassuring of what, you weren’t sure, but you couldn’t deny that you liked when Damian was in your space, even if he still avoided touch.
“That you did, Demon.” Tim agreed easily, cheerful despite the blunt words. “Well thanks again, Amira. Maybe I’ll buy a Lotto ticket today.”
He walked off to join the others again, whistling merrily.
You glanced aside at Damian, and at your incredulous look he just shrugged.
“He’s weird, what can I say?”
You laughed.
But the visions pertaining to the rest of the extended Wayne family didn’t stop there.
Stephanie – who was always so casual about touching you – finally grazed your skin by accident one day as she greeted you. When you came back from the vision you found yourself still standing in the corridor with her flapping around you.
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”
“Steph…” Your voice rasped as you focussed in on her properly, “It’s okay.”
“No!” She seemed genuinely distressed and very upset with herself. “I know you have a thing about touch, and I’ve always pushed it and now I’ve gone and done exactly what you were trying to avoid and – “
“Steph!”
She stopped mid-sentence, looking more than a little surprised at your forceful interruption.
“I don’t keep my distance from people because I don’t want the visions,” You admitted, “It’s always been because of their reactions to the visions. If it doesn't bother you then I don’t mind just… keep being careful.”
“You don’t mind the hugs then?” She asked carefully. She still looked upset and you couldn’t bear to see the confident woman looking so dejected with herself, so you stepped closer to her again and wrapped your arms around her – carefully – but it was enough for her to cling on tightly to you with a chuckle.
“Besides,” You smiled at her as you pulled back, “Now I can tell you not to wear the red dress to your date tonight.”
“What?” Steph frowned, upset all over again for a different reason. “But I love that dress!”
“Only until it splits up the side when you sit down,” You said with a smirk.
“Shit, really?” Steph gnawed at her bottom lip for a moment before sighing at last, “Fine, I guess I can wear the blue instead.”
And your visions struck again, when you were drawn into the Batcave one day by a tingle in your spine, only to see Jason and Cass bent over a virtual 3D map of Gotham and arguing.
“It doesn’t make sense for him to be back where he started,” Jason was growling, jabbing a finger towards a specific building.
We have already looked there. Cass signed agitatedly. He may think it is safe to go back now.
“I guess so,” Jason rubbed at his face, looking tired and more than a little irritated. “But does that then mean we have to start sweeping the whole city for him again just to go back over places we’ve already gone through?”
Cass was also looking annoyed, clearly they had been at this for a while. Maybe we should split up and check key locations.
“But where do – oh, hi Amira.”
Jason broke off as you neared, and they both turned to you, looking confused at your presence.
“Hi,” You smiled as you reached them, “Hopefully I can speed this up for you.”
You squeezed between the pair of them and pointed to a nondescript building in East Gotham.
“There.” You recognised the building from a vision while meditating, and the increased prickling in your spine only cemented this was the correct place. “He misses his family; he’ll go for dinner tomorrow night.”
Pulling back to see Jason and Cass both staring at you in shock, you shrugged.
“His son is there, he’s a big Red Hood fan, so be nice.”
You turned and walked away. It took a couple of days, but one afternoon you walked back into your room to find a brand-new set of hardcover books of the Lord of the Rings sitting on the bed – a trilogy you knew Cass had seen you starting recently. There was a small note with it, but on unfolding it, the writing was Jason’s.
Got the bastard, and managed to keep it out of sight of his kid.
Thanks for the heads up.
But your visions came to arguably their most useful one night when the entire family was out, and you woke from a dream that you recognised as having a vision woven through it, and urgency drove you to immediately reach for your phone to call Damian.
DAMIAN
It was good to be back out on patrol in Gotham. Tonight, he had joined a few of his siblings to track down and lift some information Tim was after from the Penguin’s club. While the Penguin himself was currently in Arkham, his goons were still putting up a hell of a fight.
Fighting side by side with the others was, admittedly, an enjoyable experience. Even if things became slightly too easy.
Suddenly a tone in his ear let him know someone was trying to call him. There was only a handful of people who weren’t here who even had the number to call the receiver on his mask. He accepted it immediately, thinking there had to be some sort of emergency.
“What?” He snapped.
“Damian?”
On hearing Amira’s voice, Damian almost stumbled in place. Almost. But he regained his footing quickly and spun to punch an assailant hard across the face. Fear blasted through him. What had gone wrong, why was she calling? Was she safe? Hurt? Damian attempted to push aside the awful pit in his stomach as the memory of having his hands coated in Amira’s blood came to mind, and he tried to reign in the immediate fall to worse case scenarios, focussing on the voice on the other end – one that sounded urgent but not pained or scared.
“Amira?” He grunted as he put enough force behind his next kick to take down the person behind them too, “Now’s not a good time.”
Red Hood darted into the space behind Damian for a moment, and between them, they lashed out at a circle forming around them both.
“Are you really on the phone right now?” Jason asked incredulously as he caught the end of Damian’s words.
“I’ll be quick,” Damian barely caught Amira’s words in his ear over the bang of one of his smoke bombs as he threw it hard at the ground. “Is Dick with you?”
“I’ll bet it’s Amira,” He could barely make out Stephanie’s form swinging in close due to the heavy smog that suddenly surrounded them. Spoiler ducked under a wild punch and swept the man’s feet out from under him, sending them slamming to the ground. “Like he wouldn’t pick up a call from her.”
“No, he’s across town with Father.” Damian replied over the call, trying to concentrate on Amira and not his siblings chatter as they fought around him. “Is he alright?”
“He’s fine,” Amira’s tinny voice was quick to reassure, “But do you know where he is, Damian? He’s not answering his phone.”
“Is it Amira??” Stephanie paused briefly at his side to demand, clearly unhappy he wasn’t answering her instead.
As the mist around them cleared somewhat, they could all now make out the smaller but no less intimidating form of Orphan across the space. She was just standing from tying up three unconscious bodies together and signed their way.
It is definitely Amira.
Damian glared at her as he kicked out at another person running in towards him. He knew his siblings would see the irritation in his body language even if they couldn’t quite see the expression behind his low hood. But his reply ignored them again, speaking instead to Amira.
“Last I knew he was at the docks.”
He flipped over another person running towards him, causing a sudden pile up of his enemies as they crashed in together.
“Okay, thank you.”
Damian used the hilt of his katana to knock each of the men before him unconscious, but had to step aside suddenly as a baseball bat swung into the space where he was a moment before.
“Amira,” He whirled around to backhand the assailant and rip the bat out of his hands, then used it as his own weapon to throw into the face of the next person coming at him, who went down with a howl of pain. “What’s going on?”
“Fucking knew it!” Stephanie crowed from somewhere behind him.
“Hellspawn, stop calling your girlfriend and help me with this.” Jason snapped off to one side where he had finally fought his way to a row of monitors and hard drives.
Damian glared furiously at his extremely incorrect words, but darted across to him and passed over a USB that Tim had formatted into a hacking program that would strip the hard drives of their data. Jason turned to plug it in as Damian now held back the forces suddenly trying all the harder to stop that data transfer.
“Let’s just say if someone doesn’t go and get Dick now,” Amira said in his ear, “He’s going to miss the birth of his kid.”
Damian huffed in frustration as he whirled and punched and kicked in time with Stephanie and Cass who now joined him at his side to fight off the waves of enemies coming at them. As much as he wanted Dick to be there for such an important moment…
“We’re a little busy here.”
“That’s fine then,” Amira said easily, and there was rustling in the background, as if she was on the move. “Me and Alfred will go get him.”
Damian almost had a heart attack. Amira, leaving the Manor, with the Grey Hawks still after her?
“Absolutely not,” He said immediately.
“Ooh, they’re arguing.” Stephanie’s laugh was cut short as a punch slipped through to her ribs. But she turned with the punch, getting partially behind her attacker, and threw him over her hip and to the ground.
“It’ll be fine,” Amira was reassuring him, “In and out.”
“No, Amira.” Damian gritted out as they were pressed back enough to have to resort to elbows and knees to keep the enemies back, “You’re still being hunted by the Grey Hawk’s.”
Despite being in the same position as him, Cass still managed to find the time and room to throw a quick few words his way. Five bucks on Amira.
“I’ll be okay, I promise.”
“Stay at the house, Amira.”
Gunshots suddenly rung out from directly behind Damian and muzzle flashes flared in his peripheral vision. Multiple attackers dropped in font of Damian, and he might have been alarmed if he didn’t recognise the rubber bullets that dropped to the floor with them.
“For fucks sake, can’t you guys do anything without me?” Jason’s voice was all humour despite his words, and the Penguin’s men before them were now backing up slightly, watching the Red Hood’s guns warily.
“I’ll text you when I’m back, alright?” Amira’s voice was easier to hear in the sudden lull in fighting as both sides sized each other up.
Damian dropped his voice slightly so the goons they fought at least wouldn’t hear his words, but the harsh warning in his tone was clear, and had more than one of them eyeing him warily even though he clearly wasn’t speaking to them.
“Amira, I forbid you to leave.”
There was a snort from Amira’s end. “Duly noted.” A beep let Damian know she had just hung up on him. He jerked his head back in slight surprise.
Did she just hang up on you? Damn it, trust Cass to have read him so clearly.
Steph was grinning across at him as she took in his growing irritation, “Oh, she did.”
Jason chuckled, “Good for her.”
Damian was getting angrier by the second. Good thing he had almost an entire army to now take his frustrations out on. Without warning, he leapt on one of the men eying him with fear, and the space exploded into chaos once more.
He wanted to rush to Amira, demand she stay in the Manor and make sure she was safe, or at the very least exceedingly well-guarded as she went out. But he couldn’t do that right now, not with at least thirty furious people between him and the door. Well, his own fury would make short work of that.
By the time they had dealt with the group before them, cleared the site, and handed over the numerous unconscious criminals over to Gotham PD, it was hours later. Damian at last checked his phone and calmed a little on seeing Amira’s message that she was back at Wayne Manor and safe. All the same, his concern and anger worked up into something large and messy in his gut through the night and on the way back to the cave.
He knew it was worry for her safety that drove the emotion up, but by the time he reached the Batcave he was brimming with what was in his opinion, righteous fury. It certainly hadn’t helped his mood that Jason, Stephanie, and occasionally Cassandra had needled him all night long, teasing him for the first phone call he had ever taken mid-fight and his inability to control his charge’s actions.
By the time he arrived back at the Batcave, he was steaming. He was quick to see Amira was standing to one side and waiting for him, and as usual his every sense drunk in the sight.
She was a vision, nothing short of beautiful in a comfy black sweater and pants that only hinted at the soft curves beneath. Damian had long since decided he preferred when Amira wore black, it only highlighted how deep the shade of midnight in her hair was, and brought out the piecing paleness of the blue in her eyes. Golden skin all but glinted in the light as she turned towards him, immediately more alert on seeing him, and it was unmarked and injury free.
Damian’s relief on seeing her safe and unharmed was staggering, but the feeling merely fuelled his anger. He stalked her way, ready to give her the lecture of her life.
“What the hell was that, Amira?!” Damian demanded as he closed in.
She stood calmly, with arms loosely folded, and her reply was as unbothered as her expression.
“I went to get Dick so he could go to the hospital to be with his wife as she gave birth.”
For whatever reason, the calm exterior only incensed Damian further. Completely uncaring that the rest of his family had stopped further away to listen to their exchange with clear humour on their faces, Damian laid into her.
“It’s not what you wanted to achieve that’s the problem, it’s that you went out at all! You’re at the Manor for your protection, because a large and extremely dangerous gang is after you. Deliberately leaving for any reason is nothing less than completely reckless and holds no thought whatsoever for your safety. What if the Grey Hawks had been out near Dick and Bruce? No one else knew you were coming for him, if they had got to you there would have been no warning, no back up, and you would have been taken with potentially no one knowing the wiser!”
As Damian finally paused to take a breath, glowering down at the unmoved woman before him, she arched an eyebrow.
“Are you done?”
Gods this woman infuriated him sometimes. He wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her and tell her how scared out of his mind he was knowing she was trapezing around Gotham while he was elsewhere. He wanted to lock her inside this Manor forever to ensure she would never be in danger again. He wanted to kiss her senseless so she might understand some small fraction of his desperation that she stay safe.
But he wouldn’t do any of those things. Because Amira was too damn special to risk dragging her any further into his world. He couldn’t risk having her blood on his hands again.
Further fury flashed through Damian, and he decided to stick with lecturing.
“No, actually.”
With another breath, he launched into a further tirade, “You not only disregarded your own safety, but that of Alfred and the rest of the family as well. What if you had been recognised out there by the Grey Hawks? Alfred would be directly in danger, but as soon as he is recognised as part of the Wayne family, helping you, then the entire family gets pulled into this. We know Slater is smart! How many lines would need to be drawn before he starts asking just why the Wayne’s are helping you…”
He trailed off when he started to run out of steam and saw that Amira’s expression was still distinctly unapologetic.
“Are you taking any of this on board?” He demanded instead.
She gave him a bored look, “I stopped listening five minutes ago, if that’s what you’re asking.”
A snicker came from the rest of the family assembled further back.
“For fucks sake, Amira,” Damian threw his hands up in exasperation. “This is about your safety.”
“All you’re telling me are hypotheticals, Damian,” Amira stated calmly, “I was never in danger. No one except you knew I was even out, and I had Alfred and Ryuu with me the whole time. Not only that, but I also had Dick with me for most of it, and Tim also knew where I was at all times.” She held up an arm to show a small blinking light attached to her wrist by a thin band, a tracker. Her expression now softened a little, “Next time I’ll try to give you more warning.”
Damian bristled at her clear attempt to reassure him, “There won’t be a next time.”
Now the look directed his way was more sympathetic, “It’s cute that you actually believe that. For what it’s worth, I don’t regret my actions at all.” Amira now turned to leave, apparently dismissing herself, and Damian stared after her, gobsmacked at the utter lack of taking anything he had said on board. But at the last moment before disappearing out of the cave, she turned back to him.
“And Damian?”
“What?” He snapped.
She smirked at him, “You had better text Dick congratulations, he’ll be upset if you don’t.”
With that, Amira disappeared, and the previously silent congregation of siblings behind him went wild.
AMIRA
You did your best to avoid Damian for the rest of the day. The first few hours were easy, you just didn’t go to breakfast as you usually did, and then you knew he would be asleep for a few hours. But from then on, you found yourself all but tiptoeing around the Manor, checking around corners and peering into rooms before you went in.
Despite how careful you were, you were no match for Cassandra.
“Hiding.”
You jumped at the soft word with an undignified squeal and turned to see the woman standing behind you with a small smile.
“Gods above, how do you do that?”
Practice, She signed with a grin before continuing, You are hiding from Damian?
You grimaced. Getting chewed out by him in front of most of his family hadn’t been a highlight of your stay so far, of course it was obvious you were avoiding a second showdown.
“Yeah,” You muttered the admission, but made sure to sign it as well, “I don’t like it when he’s mad at me.”
Actually, you were straight up upset with him. You still believed you had done the right thing in helping Dick, and while you could understand everything Damian had said to you that morning, you were distinctly unimpressed that his way of getting that across was by yelling at you in front of everyone.
But Cass didn’t need to hear your tumultuous thoughts.
He is not mad, he is worried. Cass signed, seeming to have some understanding of what was upsetting you anyway. Damian often reverts to anger.
“I know, I know. I just…” You struggled for the words, “I’m still not looking forward to the conversation.”
Dark brown eyes regarded you for a long moment, before at last Cass simply said,
“Come.”
She turned and began to walk back through the hallways, leading you through the maze until you at last came to a room you had never been into before on the top floor. Just before she opened the door, she looked back to you and pressed a finger to her lips. You mimicked the gesture, understanding this to be a secret, a place you wouldn’t share.
Now opening the door, you followed Cass into a small paradise.
The room was covered in huge, plush seats and couches, decorated with multiple fluffy blankets and throws. Massive bookshelves lined the walls and were interspersed with candles and a plethora of plants and soft lights that turned the room into something cozy and comfortable. Windows lined the entirety of one wall and the ceiling, turning the room into almost something of a greenhouse with the number of plants here. The patter of the constant Gotham rain fell onto the glass and slid down the panes, providing a soft backdrop of noise to complete the atmosphere.
“Oh wow, Cass…” You didn’t actually have words to describe how beautiful and peaceful the room was. You turned to her as she began signing.
No one will bother you in here, She signed, The room is mine. You are free to come whenever you need space.
You were stunned at the gift she was bestowing on you. This was a space that was clearly her own, but Cass hadn’t seemed to think twice before allowing you in.
“Thank you,” You hoped your expression showed the depth of your gratitude. Cass smiled widely.
Welcome.
Cass left you to it, and you snuck out of the room just long enough to get your new hardcover of The Fellowship of the Ring and bring it up. Sinking into a massive armchair, you pulled a fluffy blanket over your legs and settled back to spend the next few hours there.
Of course, you couldn’t hide forever, and eventually dinner came and went as darkness fell outside. It was only when your stomach started to rumble that you pulled your nose from the book and decided you had better brave the corridors outside to eat then head back to your room. With any luck, Damian might be out on patrol already.
It was with some surprise that you got all the way to the kitchen without seeing anyone. You were able to sit down for a full meal with Alfred and then help with the clean-up from dinner. Only then did you decide it was definitely late enough that Damian would have left for patrol, so you left the kitchen with goodbyes to Alfred and made your way back to your room.
You had been outsmarted. The person you were trying to avoid sat propped up against your pillows directly in the middle of your bed with a book of his own.
Damian looked up as you entered, expression unreadable as he put the book aside.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” You answered reflectively, but you were frowning at him. “I thought you would be out on patrol by now.”
There was a soft snort as Damian kicked his legs off the side of the bed to stand across from you, “Clearly, or you would still be avoiding me.”
Caught. You sighed and stepped more fully into your room to close the door behind you.
“Have you come to yell at me some more?” You asked in a mutter.
Something like regret flashed across Damian’s face, but it was gone too quickly to tell for sure.
“No. I was hoping we could talk.”
You narrowed your eyes with some suspicion, “Just talk?”
He nodded, his bright eyes composed, “Just talk.”
“Alright.”
Your agreement was wary, and afterwards the pair of you stood in silence, just gazing at the other hesitantly. Clearly neither of you was sure where to start. You shuffled your feet in the quiet, and had to eventually avert your gaze when it started to linger on the bright emerald green of the eyes before you and the single lock of black that had fallen from the carefully brushed back hair.
Damian seemed to be looking you over just as carefully, and as usual, you felt stripped bare under the intensity of his gaze. When you swallowed, he seemed to startle slightly, as if remembering where he was. Awkwardly, he gestured to the book you still held in one hand.
“Where did you get that from?”
You glanced down at the book, almost surprised to find you still held it, and you took a step closer to deposit it on the edge of the bed.
“Cass and Jason bought the trilogy for me after I helped them with a case.”
“Are you enjoying it?”
“Yeah.”
You both devolved into silence once more, the attempt at small talk falling flat with the knowledge a longer and far more serious conversation loomed. Finally, a sigh escaped Damian and he turned from you to go and stand in front of the large windows, looking out over the darkening gardens beyond as night rolled in.
He spoke at last, the words coming fast and expressionless, like it was practiced, and as if not looking at you made the words easier to say.
“I wanted to apologise for yelling this morning,” Damian began, shuffling his feet so they were set confidently apart while he clasped his hands at his back, “While each of my points still stands, yelling was not the way to get them across. I further apologise for doing so in front of my family. I should have asked to have the conversation elsewhere, or waited until I was not so angry.”
He took a breath.
“My concerns still stand as well. While I – “
“Damian.”
You interrupted at last, rolling your eyes at his practiced speech. He glanced behind himself to meet your eyes with some surprise as you cut in. You moved a little closer to sit on the edge of the bed and patted the space next to yourself.
“Can you come and have a conversation with me please,” You asked, a note of amusement entering your voice, “And not just recite a speech?”
“I’m not – “ This time he cut himself off as he no doubt realised that was exactly what he was doing. With another sigh, Damian came and sat next to you on the bed, leaving only a small gap between you both.
“I don’t have much experience with this,” He muttered, staring down at his hands where they rested on his lap.
“Neither do I,” You admitted, “I don’t want to argue with you, but I do want to talk it out.” You gave a small shrug as you picked at an invisible piece of lint on your pants. “I can’t do that if you’re yelling, or if you’re not actually talking to me.”
The head next to yours bobbed slightly.
“I understand.”
“Okay,” You bit your lip, here it went. “So tell me why you were upset this morning.”
Emerald eyes finally flicked up to meet yours, exasperation clear in their depths, “You really didn’t take anything I said in, then?” His tone was grudging.
“I heard every word, Damian.” You huffed, “But I want you to actually explain it.”
There was a long beat of silence and he looked away again, back to his hands. As your gaze followed his, you saw them clench.
“I was… worried.”
You jerked your head back up to stare at Damian at his words, stunned that he would admit as much aloud, and your heart soared. But he continued.
“The Grey Hawks are still looking for you, and if they found you while you were out and so exposed and vulnerable…” Damian huffed, apparently deciding he didn’t need to elaborate on that. But now he looked back to you, and his green eyes speared you in place. “Until they’re taken down, I’m still meant to be protecting you. I can’t do that if you’re out running around Gotham without me. There have been enough instances of the Grey Hawk’s being more resourceful than we thought, and you’ve barely recovered from last time. I thought you wouldn’t take that risk.”
He was upset that you would risk yourself. You had to look away as the realisation squeezed at your chest even more than his earlier words, lest he read something of your reaction in your eyes. You had to draw in a long breath to try and get your thoughts straight again and stop the excited spiral of Damian cares about you!
“Okay, I understand what you’re saying.” Your tone was impressively even, “Do you want to hear my point of view?”
Damian gestured for you to continue.
“I’m only telling you this because it’s already happened differently, so don’t freak out.” He gave you a vaguely annoyed look at that, but you continued, “While I sure wouldn’t know for myself, I’ve heard the birth of your first child is a pretty big deal. And in the future I saw, Dick was not only distraught at missing it, but Kori actually had a really hard birth. I thought it was important he be there, for both of their sakes.”
You looked back to Damian now, “I wasn’t trying to put myself at risk, you know normally I’m willing to follow your lead. But in this case, I thought the risk was worth the reward.”
Twisting a lock of hair around one finger, you continued more quietly, hoping Damian might understand that you hadn’t thought nothing of yourself despite the risk you took.
“I didn’t think I was being completely careless with my safety, you know. Tim gave me the emergency beacon, and Alfred and Ryuu came with me. Plus, as soon as we got to Dick, both him and Bruce were there. And then Dick stayed with us until we dropped him off at hospital.”
Damian stayed silent through everything you had to say, and you began to get worried that he was getting angry again as his expression stayed carefully blank too.
“I would have waited for you if I could,” You said earnestly.
“I know,” He said simply.
“I promise I’ll always do my best to give you heads up if I do go out.”
“I believe you.”
You pressed your lips together and waited.
At last, there was a gusty sigh from him, and the previously tense posture finally eased slightly.
“You make good points,” Damian admitted at last, “I know you wouldn’t throw yourself needlessly in harms way, but still – “ He lifted an eyebrow, “I would prefer you were never there.”
“I get that.” You smiled briefly, but grew quickly serious again, knowing you had to bring up what had been bothering you the most about your face off that morning. “I don’t like being yelled at.”
Damian physically winced at that. “I don’t like yelling. I – I – “
As he was suddenly lost for words, you picked up your end again.
“I know that your anger is often a cover for other emotion,” You said more quietly. “I don’t blame you for it, necessarily, but if you have issues, I’d rather you just talked to me. Or wait until you’re less angry.”
He was looking away, clearly struggling with something. You fell silent and just waited, understanding Damian needed the time to think something through now.
“When I was still with the League of Assassins,” Damian began at last, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper, “Any show of emotion was weakness. Fear, love, worry, attachment… it was all seen as inadequacy, it made you a target. I learned to turn it all to anger.” The fists on his lap clenched again, “I was good at being angry, I could use it as a fuel to push myself harder and faster and rise above those that constantly tried to bring me down.”
“It was survival.” You could understand that.
How else could one live through the trials he had been through at such a young age without having something hot and burning to turn to through it. For your childhood, it had been hope keeping you going – hope for a better life. For a young Damian already being forced into the role he was born for with nowhere and no one else to turn to – it had been rage.
“That was then.” Damian turned to look at you now, and you saw all the darkness of his past and all the brightness of his future warring in his eyes. “It’s not now. I’ve known that these people are my true family for a long time, but turning that anger back to what it should be is… difficult, at best.”
The green eyes meeting yours only intensified, and you saw the very genuine concern at not being forgiven shining there with his regret, “I am sorry for yelling. I’m not angry at you. I’m just…”
He trailed off again, struggling for words. But you knew what he was trying to say, and you whispered the word for him.
“Worried.”
You both looked away from each other again, perhaps neither of you wanted to see what would be so clear on the others face. For you, it was a deep and desperate longing for that worry to stem from something other than friendship, something… more. The vision from so many weeks back of you in bed with Damian teased you from the back of your mind, and you swallowed hard against the feelings it brought forward, knowing now wasn’t the time for such things to be spoken.
“Well,” You said at last, flopping back onto the bed so you lay down to stare up at the ceiling, “If you don’t yell, and I don’t run around without thought for my safety, everyone wins.”
A huff sounded from where Damian still sat with his back now to you.
“That is a gross oversimplification.”
“But it works.”
“Yeah, okay,” There was a note of warmth to his voice now, one of humour.
It was quiet for a bit, and you watched as the last bit of tenseness slowly released from Damian’s strong shoulders.
“Thank you for actually talking to me.” You said.
The shoulders lifted in a small shrug, “I find apologising hard.”
“No, really?” You teased.
Damian looked back at you with a frown, but you had seen the hint of a smirk on his lips enough times for you to recognise it now. You smiled at him before lifting an eyebrow.
“Shouldn’t you be on patrol?” You asked. It was fully dark outside now, and only the soft orange light from a bedside lamp lit the room. At your question, you were interested to see Damian look suddenly awkward, as if he’d been caught out.
“I asked for tonight off,” He admitted at last.
“You asked to take tonight off?” You echoed in disbelief, pushing yourself up on your elbows to stare at him. “You?”
Now a glare was levelled your way. But it was tempered with discomfort as he forced his way through his next words. “This… mattered,” Damian said at length.
You could hardly believe Damian was actually almost admitting aloud that you mattered. You couldn’t imagine that he would put off a night of patrol just to talk through an argument with anyone else. You lay back again to stare up at the ceiling and tried to wait out the accelerated rhythm to your heart. It eventually subsided, but the butterflies in your stomach did not.
Swallowing, you changed the topic.
“So what are you going to do with your night off then?”
“I hadn’t thought that far.” He admitted.
“Do you want to see the bracelet Tim made for me?”
“He made what?” Damian’s tone was suddenly dangerous.
You stuck your arm straight up into the air, and Damian now laid down next to you to reach up and carefully grasp the bracelet around your gloved wrist. It was a simple black chain with a black bat hanging from it, all made of Kevlar so it wouldn’t break easily, according to Tim.
“Oh,” As Damian turned the charm over, he seemed to realise there was more to it than its obvious appearance. Pressing the bat’s wings together popped open the body of the small bat, allowing access to a small red button.
“It’s both a tracker and a distress beacon,” You explained, “Just in case.”
Damian’s small hum as he dropped the charm gave nothing away, but you saw the slight annoyance still present on his face.
“You thought Tim had made me jewellery,” You accused lightly, and the glare Damian turned towards you made you laugh. “He’s got a boyfriend, you know.”
“I’m aware,” He rolled his eyes before changing the subject. “Isn’t the bat a little cliché?”
You jangled your wrist, smiling as the bat jumped back and forth with the movement.
“I wanted the charm to be of my favourite vigilante.”
“Batman? Really?” Damian actually looked a little insulted.
You smiled wider, “Not this Batman.”
“This Batman?” Damian rolled over to face you and propped himself up on an elbow, clearly stunned despite his heavy frown, “Wait, you know who the next Batman is?”
You winked his way.
“Shit, Amira.” Damian stared down at you, shock written across his face. “You can’t just dump that sort of knowledge on someone.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re teasing me with it.”
Now you smirked, “Only a little.”
With a groan, Damian flopped back over onto his back.
“I can’t even imagine what it would be like to know such monumental events before they even happen,” He almost sounded awed.
“I don’t know everything,” You tried to keep your voice light, “Like I know who the next Batman is, but I don’t know how it is going to happen, or how far in the future, or if Bruce is still – “
You cut yourself off abruptly, silently cursing yourself for being so insensitive.
“Alive.” Damian finished for you.
“Sorry,” You whispered.
“It’s okay,” His tone was dull, but steady. “Death is a part of life around here.”
You wondered if, when Damian became Batman, his father would still be alive. You hoped so, because you couldn’t imagine how lonely it would be to take up the mantle without both his mentor and father figure to lead him through it. You hoped more than anything you would still be around to help him through such a time. Your visions told you yes, but you knew how changeable things could be.
Damian’s expression as he stared up at the ceiling next to you was serious and contemplative, and you hated that his early grief was your fault. You wanted to take his hand, to offer some reassurance. In theory you could, your gloved hands were enough of a barrier against his bare ones - you knew that from the multiple times Steph or Cass had grabbed your hand to lead you somewhere without triggering a vision.
But you didn’t know how Damian would react to such a simple move. He still avoided touching you, even though he now lay close enough that all you would have to do is turn over to be lying against him. He was so close you could feel the bed dip with his movements, and hear the slight shift in the covers when he breathed.
Did he still want space from you? The uncertainty was driving you crazy.
With effort, you pushed the thoughts aside and changed the subject again, hoping to distract him from the morbid topic you had unwittingly brought up.
“Do you mind that I’m using my powers with your family?” You asked.
Damian glanced back your way, effectively sidetracked, “You mean seeing their futures?”
“Yeah.”
He frowned slightly, “Amira, you saved Tim from being severely injured and out of action for months on end. And being helpful isn’t a crime.”
“I know, I just…” You hesitated before plunging onwards, “I know you don’t want to see your future, but I’m still kind of forcing things on them.”
“You’re making suggestions,” Damian shrugged. “It’s up to them whether or not they listen.”
You hesitated, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Had he changed his mind on hearing your visions?
“So little things are okay to say?” You ventured.
Damian had been watching you closely, and seemed to recognise your confusion.
“I don’t want to know my future. But small things with little effect I’m willing to listen to, I’d be stupid not to.” He clarified. “But Amira… I’m pretty messed up, okay?” Damian looked back to the ceiling with a grimace, “Please don’t take me as baseline for what most people are like. Most people are much easier to talk to.”
Now you frowned, not liking the self-depreciation. How many times had Damian been told he was difficult before?
“But I like talking to you.” You pushed yourself up to look down on Damian when he didn’t respond. “I’m being serious, Damian.” When the bright eyes finally flicked to meet yours, you smiled at him and poked out your tongue, trying to lighten the mood, “I wouldn’t spend so much time with you otherwise.”
To your relief, the glint of humour flared in his expression.
“I believe you.”
You smiled wider, “Now you say it back.”
He snorted and made sure to roll his eyes with gross exaggeration, “I like talking to you too.” But although it was all said in teasing, his voice was kind of gruff as he said it, and your heart soared as you laughed.
“There, that wasn’t so hard,” You laid back next to him, still chuckling.
You ended up talking to Damian late into the night, both of you lit only by the single lamp at the side of the room, and it reminded you of the days in the safehouse when you both had nothing to do except be in the others presence and get to know the other. It seemed more meaningful now in such a massive house, that you both still chose to be here, lying in bed right next to the other and chatting the night away.
At some point, Ryuu and Alfred the cat both made their way inside and ended up jumping onto the bed and inserting themselves into the small space between you both. They were quick to curl up and fall asleep, cocooned between your warm bodies.
It was early morning by the time you were yawning almost nonstop, and a slight smile crossed Damian’s face as he recognised it.
“You should get some sleep,” He recommended, “You were up pretty early yesterday as well.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” But your tone was grudging, you didn’t want the night to end.
With a brief huff of laughter, Damian finally peeled himself off the bed, dipping it and disturbing the cats as he went. Alfred whisked ahead of him as he opened the door to leave, while Ryuu plodded to a different spot on your bed to curl up on instead.
But Damian paused before leaving the room, and when he looked back to where you still lay back on the bed, his expression was warm.
“Good night, Amira.”
Your answering smile was bright, and your heart felt full.
“Good night, Damian.”
Chapter 27: Boiling Point
Notes:
MUAHAHAHAHA
(Happy Halloween! Lots of love!)
Chapter Text
AMIRA
You cursed soundly as you pushed up onto your tiptoe again, stretching up high to reach a book above your head. No matter what you did, you couldn’t quite get a hold of it. Swearing louder as you thumped back flat onto your feet, you considered whether the ancient shelving of the vast library would hold your body weight if you just climbed it.
Deciding you didn’t want to risk toppling the entire bookshelf, you huffed in irritation and set off out of the library. You weren’t sure where Damian was, for once, but maybe you would run into him or perhaps Alfred. Actually, anyone else that frequented the Manor was taller than you and would do.
But as you considered that even Cass would probably be able to reach the book, you ran into the one person you hadn’t thought to ask for help.
Bruce Wayne stepped carefully back as you almost bounced off his chest as you rounded a corner while looking the other way, and the slightest hint of a smile played at his lips as you scrambled to an embarrassed halt.
“Shoot, sorry!”
“Good afternoon, Amira.” You knew the features well enough to be able to read the flash of curiosity across his face, having seen the same expression enough times on his son. “Everything alright?”
You shifted on your feet and tugged your gloves up in a self-conscious gesture. Of everyone in the family, Bruce was still the one person who hadn’t sought you out at all, and you couldn’t help wondering if it was in silent protest at your presence.
“Um, actually I do need some help,” You admitted with some embarrassment, “I can’t reach a book in the library.”
He smiled wider and gestured back behind you, “Show me.”
It was strange to walk side by side with Bruce Wayne. He was so similar to Damian in build and height and looks that for a moment it almost brought a feel of déjà vu. But as well as you knew Damian, you were quick to find the differences between the two.
Both men were surprisingly light on their feet despite being so large, but while Damian’s footsteps held a fluidity that was effortlessly graceful while being forever on the edge of stepping into action, Bruce’s were casually firm, as if each step was considered in its placement while also somehow hiding the skill of the man that took them.
Likewise, their builds almost seemed to mimic their gait. Bruce was very square, sure and determined. Damian had the same strong features, but they held the dark elegance of his middle eastern heritage as well, and while he wasn’t built quite like the brick that was his father, his leaner muscles only added to the graceful way he moved and fought.
Even their energies seemed different, something you had first noticed when meeting them both as Batman and Robin for the first time, but was now all the more obvious when you could look into their eyes. While Bruce came across as cold, Damian was all heat. While his father’s eyes glittered with a calculating ice, Damian was all burning fury.
As you turned into the library and you silently pointed out the book you wanted, Bruce smiled at you before turning to get it, and you couldn’t help thinking that although Bruce’s smiles came easier, Damian’s – though few and far between – were all the more genuine for it.
“Thank you, Mr Wayne.”
“Just Bruce is fine.” He assured, but paused to stare at the book in his hand as he passed it over to you, looking surprised as to why you were hunting down such undeniably boring topics, “What are you looking over these for?”
You sighed as you flipped briefly through the etiquette book Bruce had retrieved for you, disheartened to find that it was packed with words you didn’t understand, and there were no damn pictures.
“Steph said she’s going to invite me to the next gala if Damian doesn’t. But…” You hesitated before rushing on, keeping your eyes down. “I don’t know anything about high society.”
“I see.”
There was a long enough pause that you closed the book at last to look up and see those icy blue eyes regarding you. You struggled to read them, unsure as to what he was so clearly thinking over.
“While I’m sure Damian would be happy to instruct you, if you like there are easier books to follow in my office.”
“Oh,” You smiled reflectively, both surprised and pleased at the offer, “Yes please.”
Again, you fell into step beside Bruce, who you were now sure was shortening his steps so it was easier for you to keep up – something you had also noticed Damian do many a time while sneaking around abandoned warehouses at night.
“How are you finding life at the Manor?” Bruce asked as you walked.
“Good,” Your answer was quick, but on the sidelong glance your way, you had to admit, “It’s very… different.”
“Fair enough,” Bruce paused as you turned into a new corridor, and you wondered if he had waited to make sure it was empty before continuing. “Damian tells me you were homeless for some time.”
Now it was you that glanced aside at your companion, unsure at his line of questioning. But all you could see was a slight frown of concentration that was distressingly like Damian’s when he was thinking hard.
“Yes.”
“Do you have a home to go to after this?”
You felt your shoulders tense, suddenly awaiting judgement despite knowing that Batman would surely be one of the last people to ever judge people for their circumstances.
“No, I don’t.”
You turned now into his office. It was a large space, as all of the rooms were, and filled with expensive furnishings and a massive desk covered in paper that took up most of the room. But as you took in the multiple bookshelves that lined the walls, Bruce stopped in place, and the serious look he sent your way stole your attention once more.
You certainly weren’t expecting his next words.
“You are welcome to stay here as long as you need.”
That startled you. You weren’t a part of this family, or one of the many vigilantes or heroes that regularly flitted in and out of the space. Surely having a civilian living here surrounded by nothing but secrets was a recipe for trouble. Was he offering out of kindness? Or was there something else you didn’t understand yet?
“…Thank you.” You said at last, but Bruce had already turned to peruse one of the bookshelves and he selected a couple of thinner books.
“Here,” Bruce passed them to you, and you flipped through them with more than a little relief on seeing some diagrams and pictures in one of them. “Alfred often leaves them out for me when he thinks I have misbehaved in public,” Bruce lifted an eyebrow as he watched you pause on a chapter on table settings. “They therefore find their way into here, rather than back in the library.”
You smiled at the confession, then laughed more openly as you closed the book you held and looked aside to see just how many etiquette books were slotted into the shelves.
Finally, you felt comfortable enough to turn a grin Bruce’s way, “Does Alfred often think you misbehave?”
Bruce smiled back, and this one came with a gleam of real humour in his eyes.
“Often enough.”
You laughed again, and Bruce gestured aside at the shelf as he leaned back against his desk more casually. He watched as you flipped through a couple more books, picking out some of the easier ones to understand and adding them to your small pile, and you waited for the question you knew was coming.
“Do you mind if I ask you something?” Bruce’s question came at last, “Purely out of my own curiosity.”
You almost smiled, knowing well that Damian’s own insatiable curiosity would never let a question rest either.
“Sure.”
“I understand that your ability to see the future saved my sons life,” Bruce began slowly, no doubt watching for your reaction. “Do you often see futures related to Damian?”
It was times like this that you really wished you had more control over your expressions, because you knew Bruce would easily pick the sudden tense set to your shoulders and the wariness on your face, even as you kept it carefully turned aside.
“It… happens more often after spending so much time with him,” You answered at length.
From the corner of your eye, you saw his head tilt in interest.
“Do you see much relating to how your futures might intertwine?”
You jerked your gaze up to meet his, stunned at the boldness of his question. On reading the open interest of the expression across from yours, you realised that – yes, Bruce had already drawn his own conclusions. Your answer would only be confirmation of those. Somehow, he had come to his own understanding of what the future might hold for you and Damian, and he had needed nothing more than his own observations. No ability to see the future required.
That said, the last thing you thought his father wanted to hear was for you to repeat the future you had seen of waking up at Damian’s side and the gentle caresses of your body as he drew you in closer.
“The future always has the ability to change,” You said carefully, cursing yourself for the blush threatening your cheeks. To your surprise, Bruce simply smiled.
“If you’ll allow me to be quite blunt about it, I think Damian is quite taken with you,” He said, tone as casual as if you were discussing the weather. “And I am nothing less than pleased about it.”
Bruce didn’t strike you as the sort of person to make jokes, but…
“You… are?” You asked warily, at last daring to turn more fully his way to regard him properly. Bruce was still leaning against his desk with arms loosely crossed, but his expression was soft and patient in a way you hadn’t expected to see from him.
“I admit, I was starting to lose hope that Damian might find someone to spend his life with,” He said with a small smile. “I’m pleased he’s finally found that with you.”
“I – We – “ You were stunned enough that your voice failed, and you had to swallow before continuing. “We’re not together…”
“But you’ve seen it.”
Your lack of answer obviously said enough for Bruce to continue.
“In case it is me standing in the way, you have my every blessing.”
You stayed silent for a long time, bewildered at the turn the conversation had taken and astonished at just how confident Bruce was that you and Damian would one day be together. Eventually you spoke again, and your question was barely above a whisper.
“Is… Is that why Alfred calls me mistress?”
Bruce simply smiled, but you were still confused.
“He doesn’t call Selina that.”
Now there was a small shake of his head.
“Although Selina is one of my more serious relationships, she is one of many. Damian…” Bruce trailed off, as if carefully thinking through what he was going to say before he continued. “He has only a small handful of people he surrounds himself with, and of those, he trusts even fewer. But you… I have never seen Damian want to be around anyone like he wants to be with you.”
Your belly fluttered at that admission. While you hadn’t known Damian long, you did see how he wouldn’t be one to spend much time around people. For his own father to now voice the clear difference in the way he was around you… you couldn’t help your hope grow brighter that the future you had seen together might happen.
But across from you, Bruce’s face grew more serious as a shadow fell over his expression.
“I must thank you as well, for saving his life, nearly at the cost of your own.”
Bruce’s thanks were raw, and you recognised the grief behind it as a reflection of what you had also felt on seeing Damian’s death so many times over in your visions. But yet again, someone spoke of how close you had come to death. You were starting to think you may have been closer than Damian had led you to believe.
You swallowed, “I couldn’t let him die.”
“You care for him.” It was pure observation, there was no guesswork here.
“Yes,” Your admission was little more than a whisper.
Blue eyes regarded you, “I think, should you talk to him, you would find Damian more on the same page than you would expect.”
Bruce saw far more than you were willing to give away. No doubt your every hesitance and insecurity that Damian wouldn’t feel the same was on display for him to pick up. For so long, you had been far too scared to bring up your feelings with Damian, concerned he wouldn’t feel the same draw you did. But then you had seen his death, and it had taken a backseat over your concern for him. Now that the danger had passed, you were left with a vision of your future with him – your possible future. And you were terrified to act on it.
With a brief smile, Bruce finally unfolded his arms and stood, signalling an end to the conversation.
“I’ve kept you long enough, feel free to come in here whenever you need.” He now gestured vaguely out of the room with a twinkle in his eye, “If you were looking for Damian, he’s down in the Batcave training with the others.”
You gave Bruce a small smile as he walked past you to leave, twisting a lock of hair around a finger in an effort to distract yourself from blushing. “Thank you.”
“And Amira?” Bruce paused on the way out of the door to look back at you, “Welcome to the family.”
There was no way you could concentrate on etiquette books after a conversation like that. You lasted only about ten minutes before you sighed, picked up your small stack of books and went to dump them in your room before making your way through the Manor towards the grandfather clock that would let you down into the Batcave.
On the way there, you were stunned as you passed a massive window and noted warmth.
Turning to stare out the window, you darted a little closer to press your face against it when you realised that Gotham’s constant gloomy cloud cover had split for once to allow bright blue skies and actual sunlight through. You headed for the Batcave with an additional spring to your step.
As you came down the steps leading from the clock into the area, heads glanced up at you from across the space.
“Hi, Amira!”
Steph’s greeting reached you first as she broke off from sparring Tim and Cass to wave your way. Tim also waved, which caused his downfall as Cass took the opportunity to launch herself at him and take him down to the mats hard.
Welcome, She then signed your way with a grin as she perched atop Tim’s prone, groaning form.
Off to the side, Jason laughed loudly from where he stood by the Batcomputer, where another figure was in the chair and turned towards the monitors with their back to you. It was to them that you walked towards, not wanting to interrupt the training. But even as you did so, your eyes kept searching, and at last found the bright green they were looking for.
Damian was further out in the cave and was using his katana against three mannequins looking very worse for wear. But he had obviously paused as you entered and was now sheathing his weapon to start making his way over to you. He was followed loosely by Dick, who looked between you both with a grin. Damian’s intense gaze didn’t drop from you until you had to wrench yours away as you approached the pair at the Batcomputer to greet them both.
“Hi, I – “ You cut yourself off as the figure in the chair turned at last and you realised you didn’t know who it was, although they did look strangely familiar. “Oh, hello.”
The red-headed woman smiled. It was a kind smile that reflected in sharp green eyes as she held a hand out towards you in offer.
“Hi, it’s good to finally meet you, Amira.” Although you hesitated, you reached out to shake the hand extended your way, starting to get used to having more physical contact since being here.
She seemed delighted that you returned the shake, smiling wider, “I’m Barbara.”
As you dropped your hand from hers, you stilled, brain suddenly connecting the vaguely familiar person with a name that you knew far better. Of course you were familiar with what she looked like, not only was she the daughter of the Police Commissioner, but you’d seen her in multiple newspapers, not to mention visions when they directed you to a trusted officer within Gotham PD to give information to… at least, before her accident that had retired her from active duty. Your gaze flicked sideways, and you saw the wheelchair sitting to one side that confirmed your realisation.
“Barbara Gordon??”
She seemed more wary than startled at your use of her full name, “Yes…”
But your brain was spinning, “Wait, you’re Oracle?”
Now Barbara jolted, staring at you in shock as her eyes flashed with similar realisation.
“Hold on… you’re the anonymous person feeding me tips over the past years??”
As one, you both turned to glare at Damian as he at last reached you. He glared reflectively back at you both, looking between you with more than a little confusion.
“What?”
Barbara threw her hands up in irritation as she turned back to you. You shook your head in mock sadness, “Ugh, men.”
She grinned as she regarded you, “I can’t believe I didn’t put it together – “
You were quick to smile back, “It’s so good to finally meet you – “
“I absolutely must grill you about how your powers work – “
“And I need to know how can you possibly keep track of all of these guys at once – “
“Fuck’s sake.”
There was a grumble from your side as Jason rolled his eyes and walked away from your gushing to join Dick, punching him in the arm before trying to pull his brother into a headlock. Dick effortlessly pulled away from the move before throwing a half-hearted kick in retaliation. Jason jumped back from it, nearly bowling into Stephanie as she stepped lightly around the tussling pair as she approached you.
“We’ll have to do a girls night soon,” She grinned between you and Barbara as she threw an arm over both of your shoulders, “Amira did you want something?”
“Oh, yeah,” You looked back over at Damian, who waited patiently at one side with a gaze that still hadn’t deviated from you. The undivided attention made you shiver, but it was with a craving you knew you couldn’t share. You pushed it aside, “I wanted to see if you wanted to go outside while it’s sunny, but you all look busy.”
Steph blinked, looking like she wasn’t sure whether to believe you, “Wait, it’s sunny?”
Dick’s head popped up from behind Jason’s massive form as he struggled to get out of a particularly painful looking hold, “Finally! Let’s take this outside then.”
Tim’s voice came from somewhere behind you, “Seconded!”
Steph glanced back and smirked, “Only because you’re getting your ass kicked.”
“Hey!”
Cass’ pealing laughter made everyone smile.
You looked back to Barbara, “Are you going to come?”
She shook her head, “Definitely not! I’m closing in on the whereabouts of this mugger Jason’s wanted for a while now.” She flexed her fingers together with an evil grin, “And I’ve got him right where I want him…”
You grinned at her, “You’re so cool.”
Everyone but Barbara was then quick to file out of the cave and head through the Manor’s corridors for the back door, aiming for the back garden where they would be afforded privacy from the paparazzi that occasionally graced the front gates of Wayne Manor.
As you walked, Damian fell into step beside you, and you considered how right the action felt as he automatically matched your pace. You couldn’t help but again long to reach out and take Damian’s hand. The others here were getting you more used to physical contact; with Steph’s hugs, Cass’ gentle fingers through your hair as she braided it, even shaking Barbara’s hand or Dick’s friendly shoulder claps. But since getting here you couldn’t help but notice Damian was still unwilling to cross that line unless he had to.
Despite the conversation you had just had with Bruce, and his own father’s assurances that Damian might feel the same way you did… you still didn’t know how he would react to something as simple as taking his hand.
“Everything okay?”
You startled a little at the low question. Glancing up, you saw Damian looking your way with curiosity glinting in his eyes. No doubt he was wondering just what had you thinking so hard.
“Fine.” You made sure to smile, but he didn’t look convinced.
But then you were walking outside, and the bright sunlight stole your immediate attention. It lit up the afternoon, turning the usually gloomy look to the back garden to something bright and tranquil. A large expanse of grass stretched before you with a large water fountain in the middle of the field and trees and gardens off to the sides and winding around the boundaries.
“Oh it’s gorgeous!” Steph’s exclamation was one of pure happiness as she skipped out into the sunlight.
Next to her, Jason flopped down onto the grass, stretching out with a happy sigh. Tim followed them more slowly, squinting and shielding his eyes as he grumbled incomprehensively. Cass laughed loudly on seeing his obvious aversion.
At your side, Damian was looking up at the sky with mild surprise, as if he too hadn’t quite believed that Gotham and sunny had been in the same sentence, and it brought a smile to your lips as you turned your face up to the sun to soak in its rays. You had to admit, of everything you had left in Egypt, you missed the sun the most.
Dick stood slightly off to the side with hands on his hips and a wide smile as he took in the blue expanse of sky.
“There is no way we’re doing boring old drills in this!” He announced.
Damian turned to stare at his brother with clear suspicion, “What did you have in mind?”
“Game of capture the flag?”
Cass punched a fist into the air enthusiastically, “Yeah!”
Jason raised up his head with a sly grin, “Bags being against Damian.”
“Oh it’s on!” Steph immediately dropped into a stretching routine at one side.
Tim was looking between everyone assembled, “Hmm, we’re going to have odd teams.”
You were already fishing your phone from your pocket, “Oh, I can call someone?”
“Who are you going to call?” Damian’s question was almost insulting with how surprised it was. But you were already dialling and pressing your phone to your ear.
“Hi!” A cheery voice answered.
“Hey,” You greeted with a smile, eyeing Damian and enjoying more than a little the disgruntled look on his face that you might have other people to call, “Are you busy right now?”
“Nah, just finished up my chores on the farm,” The voice answered, “What’s up?”
“Want to come for a game of capture the flag? We need another to even up the teams.”
A loud whoop sounded.
“I’ll be there shortly!”
You hung up and pocketed the phone, smiling at the group at large.
“He’ll be here shortly.”
Some of them looked as confused as Damian, but some – Cass and Dick – were smiling, no doubt already guessing who you’d called.
Even for him, Jon was fast. He darted across the sky in a flash of light and came slamming down onto the grass in excitement, already grinning around at the group assembled on the back lawn.
“I heard we’re playing hide and seek?”
It wasn’t until he stepped forward that he seemed to notice he had hit the lawn hard enough to leave large foot imprints in the otherwise carefully tailored grass.
“Whoops,” Jon looked stricken even as everyone else laughed, “Please don’t tell Alfred that was me.”
Jason had pulled himself up off the grass and now crossed his arms with a smirk, “Oh he’ll know.”
As Jon considered how he might cover up the accident to more than a few teasing comments about his upcoming lecture from Alfred, Damian turned to you with a raised eyebrow.
“You have Jon’s number?”
You smiled sweetly but Steph was the one to answer, calling across everyone, “She has everyone’s number!”
Damian just sighed.
“Alright, teams!” Dick clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention, “Team one will be myself, Jason, Cass, and Amira. That leaves Steph, Tim, Damian, and Jon on team two.”
Excited chatter quickly broke out across the group as they split, and friendly barbs were quickly exchanged. You found yourself grinning across at Damian as you split from his side.
“You are so going down!”
“Don’t think I’ll go easy on you,” He warned, but despite his severe expression, he couldn’t hide the way his eyes lit with the challenge. You just laughed in delight before joining the small cluster that was your team.
Jason was rolling his neck and cracking his knuckles, Cass was smiling evilly across at the others, and Dick clapped a careful hand onto your shoulder as he spoke again.
“Hey Ryuu!” He looked down to the small kitten that had joined the group as you made your way outside, “Want to be the flag?”
The familiar blinked slowly up at Dick, and you were just as confused.
“You might have to explain that one, Dick.”
He turned to point further away from the Manor.
“Just beyond the lake you can see the gardens. There’s a mess of winding paths, hedges, trees, fountains, flower beds… good stuff for hiding and sneaking through,” Dick turned back to the group, looking pleased with his plan. “But in the middle of it all is a pond, and in the middle of that is a statue. Ryuu sits on the statue and both teams start from either end of the gardens. First person to get to the familiar wins!”
You glanced down to Ryuu to see if your familiar was happy enough with that plan. The small kitten was purring, it was pleased to be involved and was excited to see the chaos unfold.
Smiling back at Dick, you answered for it.
“Ryuu is in.”
Steph was rubbing her hands together in excitement, “Usual ground rules then?”
Dick nodded once, “Obviously.”
You glanced across to Cass in confusion and she quickly signed an explanation.
Everything is on the table except actually hurting each other – well, nothing permanent.
You snorted, “Right, of course.”
This was good though, surely you could summon Elizabeth and Carol out here. You were sure they would be keen to help you spy on the other team and feed you information. Maybe it felt like cheating, but if everything was on the table…
“No flying though!” Jason spoke up. “They’ve got a Kryptonian on their team, no fair!”
“Jon’s not the only one with powers!” Tim was quick to interject, “Look who you’ve got!”
You frowned across at Tim when he pointed at you, trying to keep your face as blank as possible. Damian was watching you with a smirk, no doubt your scheming was obvious to him.
“What am I going to do?” You called with fake ire.
Tim narrowed his eyes at you. “I don’t want to say if you don’t already know…”
Dick was rolling his eyes at you all.
“Fine. No ghosts and no flying,” He decided.
Both teams seemed pleased enough with that as nods bobbed around the groups. You pouted and saw Damian’s smirk grow on seeing the expression. You made sure to poke your tongue out at him for good measure.
“Deal.”
“Keep in mind,” Dick looked around the group seriously, “These gardens are Alfred’s baby, so we need to be careful.”
Jon gulped and glanced back to the footprints he had already left in the carefully manicured lawn.
“Alright!” Steph was bouncing in excitement. “Ten minutes to get to opposite ends of the gardens while Ryuu sets up. Then it can howl or something to start us off!”
You felt the small pulse of disconcertion that was your familiar’s unease, but you knew Ryuu well enough to know what it was unsure about.
“I’ll count and let you know when to signal,” You assured Ryuu. The small black tail curled up in happiness.
Ryuu will enjoy seeing them hunt.
With that, the small kitten became a blackbird and took flight, setting course for the statue in the centre of the lake. You could just see the top of it past the lake and sprawling gardens beyond – a hand reaching skywards over the tips of tall hedges. The second team was quick to set off after Ryuu, heads bent close together as they no doubt planned their assault.
When you turned back, you saw Jason was frowning between you and the soaring blackbird after your offhand comment.
“Can’t it count?” He asked incredulously.
“Ryuu has been around for many centuries,” You explained, “It hasn’t got a great sense of time, especially the shorter that time is.”
Cass rolled her eyes at Jason as she set off across the grass towards the entrance to the gardens after team two, signing as she went.
Silly expecting a dragon to have to count for us.
Jason trailed after her with a scowl while complaining loudly, “How should I know what a dragon can and can’t do?”
A laughing Dick fell into step beside you as you followed the pair in front.
“How are you getting on?” You checked in with him as you trudged across the lawn. Today was the first day you had seen the new father after the birth of his son. While Dick looked tired, he was practically glowing with unrestrained happiness.
“I’m tired but good,” He said with a bright smile, “Thanks again for coming to get me, I would have been devastated to have missed the birth. Damian even text me congrats, can you believe it?” Dick shook his head slightly in some disbelief, and you had to muffle a laugh as he continued, “I honestly couldn’t be much happier.”
“I can see that,” You smiled back at him, “How’s Kori?”
“She’s recovering well, and Thomas is doing just fine too,” His eyes somehow lit further as he talked about his wife and son. “Want to see a picture?”
“Of course!”
Dick pulled out his phone and you both paused to cover your eyes from the sun as he flicked through a few recent photos. A tiny baby with a tuft of black hair and eyes so green they were almost glowing was held by the two new parents. Kori looked just as happy as Dick in the pictures, even if she appeared somewhat paler than you remembered. It only cemented to you that you had done the right thing in leaving the Manor to go and get Dick.
“He’s adorable,” You cooed as you got your first look at Thomas. Dick puffed out his chest as he beamed in obvious agreement.
“He looks more like Kori than me,” He allowed.
A scoff came from the pair that had stopped a couple of paces ahead of you as they noted your pause.
“That’s definitely for the best,” Jason teased.
Dick didn’t even roll his eyes at him – a testament to how undimming his joy was. Your small group began walking again.
“It’s only been a week,” You noted to Dick, “I’m actually surprised you’re here.”
This time it was Cass who laughed. She turned so she was walking backwards across the lawn so she could sign easily to you, Kori kicked him out.
Dick shrugged, looking mildly embarrassed.
“I think she was sick of me hovering,” He admitted, “She told me to get out of the house for a few hours.”
You couldn’t help your own laugh at that.
“Well, let’s make the most of it then.”
Your small group reached the edge of the garden, and your head swivelled around as you tried to take it all in. Winding pebbled paths cut through sprawling flowers beds and outlined groupings of bushes and small clearings with benches. Hedges of varying height cut through the gardens, making it impossible to see all the way across the large expanse to the other side. But in the distance was the tall statue that Dick had said would be the centrepiece, you could now see a forearm as well as an outstretched stone hand. Atop it now sat the tiny silhouette of a black kitten
“What’s the plan?”
Jason’s voice pulled you back to the people around you as you came to a halt. Cass turned away from the garden to place her back to it. Although you couldn’t see the other team on the other end, she clearly didn’t want to chance being snooped on.
We split into teams, She signed. Amira and I go directly for the flag. Dick and Jason on defence.
Dick and Jason nodded in apparent agreement. You just shrugged; you would follow whatever plan your teammates had – strategy was not your strong suit.
Jason looked aside to you now, “Has it been ten minutes?”
“Shit!” You slapped a hand to your forehead, cheeks flaming, “I forgot to count!”
Laughter rang around your team. Cass reached out to pat your shoulder as she giggled.
“I’m sure it’s near enough,” Dick assured. “Are we ready?”
“Ready!”
Ryuu, send the signal.
A bolt of excitement came through your bond, and then the little kitten atop the statue in the distance opened its tiny jaws and let out a deafening, fearsome roar that should have been impossible for the small body to make, it shook the very ground you stood upon.
Each of the people in your team instinctively dropped into fighting positions at the terrifying sound, looking towards the kitten in alarm as they froze. Only you stood tall, and could see Ryuu then sit and wrap its tail neatly over its paws, radiating intense amusement.
You tried to smother your laughter at your familiars’ antics, and Cass, Dick, and Jason turned to stare at you instead as they heard it.
“Well that was terrifying,” Jason muttered, “Alright, let’s go!”
The others in your team shot away into the garden, and you raced forwards hot on Cassandra’s heels, determined to stay at her side. Dick and Jason also stayed close, and the trio you followed seemed to have instinctive knowledge of where they were and which paths to take. You all moved swiftly but silently as you stayed in the cover of tall hedges initially. Eventually Cassandra paused and the others gathered around, trying to figure out the best way forward.
“They’re likely going to go through the denser garden to use cover to their advantage,” Jason said as he peered around the hedges edge. Dick hummed in thought.
“It all thins out around the pond and statue itself,” He said, “If we can get to the middle first, we should see them coming a mile off.”
You pointed at a tall tree to one side, “We could try and see where they are?”
Jason winked at you before turning to the woman at his side.
“Cass?”
She needed no further encouragement to sprint to the tree, grab a low branch, and begin swinging her way upwards. You lost sight of her quickly through the thick leaves, but Dick and Jason seemed able to track her progress, as their gazes didn’t deviate from the shivering leaves once until she suddenly jumped back onto the ground once more.
She darted back to you all, barely seeming out of breath despite the effort.
I think they have split up, She reported. There is movement to the west near the flower beds, but not enough to be four of them.
“Should we split as well?” You asked as the others paused. Dick shook his head firmly.
“No, we’re stronger together.”
Jason rolled his eyes at that. “If I had a dollar for every time you said that, I would be a very rich man,” He complained.
Dick grinned and nudged his shoulder, “You already are, dumbass.”
Cass giggled, Trust-fund baby.
Jason scowled at her, “Hey, every one of us is – “
“Come on!” You said through laughter, “They’ll be ahead of us at this rate!”
Your team ran on. This time you stayed low as you cut away from the large hedges ringing the side of the gardens. After winding your way down twisting passages after Cass, she eventually came to another stop as you came upon another bushy tree. She pointed upwards, almost as a question, and Dick nodded in agreement.
She scuttled up this one just as fast, and you took the opportunity to catch your breath. You weren’t unfit, but these vigilantes moved fast. When Cassandra hit the ground this time, she had a small frown on her face.
I’ve lost them.
“Hmm,” Jason attempted to peer through the large grouping of tall sunflowers that currently shielded him, “If you can’t see them, it at least means they’re not in the middle yet.”
Dick was frowning in thought, “They’ll be close though.”
From much further ahead, you heard a sudden crashing sound and the snaps of many branches. A loud thud then signalled that Jon had likely fallen straight into a hedge and flattened it.
“Shit!” His panicked wail was clearly heard across the gardens, “Alfred’s going to kill me!”
A low chuckle came from beside you. “Spot the Kryptonian,” Jason whispered gleefully.
But suddenly, a loud war cry came from directly in front of you, and you jerked back with a gasp as two figures launched themselves over the tall sunflowers to roll into the midst of your small group. They popped straight out of their rolls with shouts of glee. Jason and Dick immediately shoved you and Cass behind them as they faced off against a grinning Steph and Tim.
“They’re here to stop us!” Dick yelled, apparently deciding all need for stealth was now gone.
“The demon will be headed for the prize!” Jason snapped, and then launched himself at Stephanie.
Beside him, Tim had already thrown himself at Dick, who went from standing into a showy flip to avoid him. The pairs quickly devolved into blows, Steph and Tim obviously trying to pull you and Cass into the fight as well, but Dick and Jason were clued on enough to do their best to keep you behind them and block the duo from advancing further.
A small hand grabbed yours and dragged you aside. You and Cass ran straight through the sunflowers and came out the other side into a maze of flower gardens. It suddenly flattened out, letting you see further, and you both raced flat-out through the weaving paths around the plants towards the statue in the middle, no longer caring for cover. Curses and yells and laughter were now muffled as the fight continued behind you.
But it seemed one other person had also reached the middle. Jon was also sprinting from the other side of the garden towards the pond. As he spotted you both, he let out a loud whoop and ran faster.
Go! Cass was quick to sign, I’ll head him off!
You ran for it.
As you came closer, you now saw the pond Dick had mentioned was shallow but large, at least ten meters across both ways. The massive stone statue in the centre was atop a tall base slab, and from there a stunning rendition of an angel reached up towards the sky, wings outstretched. Atop its reaching hand was Ryuu, who now stood with tail trashing in excitement as it looked down on unfolding events.
As you came closer you could see at the base of the statue was a small flower garden ringing the slab, and to facilitate these flowers being tended, square stone slabs acted as steps coming in from each side of the ponds edge.
You glanced aside as you heard a screech of surprise. Cass had launched herself at Jon and brought him tumbling to the ground, effectively halting his advance.
But your glance aside alerted you to a much bigger threat. Damian had just broken through the dense foliage on his side of the pond and was sprinting for the statue as well. For a split second, your eyes met. Damian smirked at you, already assured in his victory. You merely wrinkled your nose and ran faster.
You were so fucked.
You were no athlete, and yet you were facing off against Robin himself. How someone that large moved so fast was beyond your comprehension. Damian was at least double the distance from the pond than you, but he made it up quickly as he launched himself over flower beds and vaulted over hedges with ease, while you had to run around them.
Somehow, you reached the stepping stones at opposite edges of the pond at the same time.
With no time to lose, you didn’t hesitate and instead raced across the stones, praying that your footing wouldn’t slip and send you into the water. Your reaching hand hit the base of the statue at the same time as Damian’s did.
You knew then that you were going to lose. There was no way you were going to be able to scale the statue faster than Robin could, he was already standing on the base and reaching higher by the time you were heaving one leg up onto it.
And then it hit you.
With a quick glance back, you saw Cass was now standing over Jon’s groaning form and looking towards you with dismay. But at your sly wink, she grinned and began sprinting your way once more.
Looking back up to the statue, seeing Damian was now climbing up the angel and just about to reach for the upstretched arm that held an excitably meowing Ryuu, you reached a hand up to grip hard onto the edge of one wing. Then you put a foot onto the base of the statue.
And then you let it slip.
Your shriek of shock as you deliberately let yourself dangle from only the angel’s wing halted Damian in his tracks. And when he glanced down at you to see you were hanging over the water with only a single hand holding onto the statue, his eyes widened.
Maybe this hadn’t been a great idea. Trying to hang on with just one hand was pulling at your stomach and causing twinges from your mostly healed injury to jolt through you. You tried to swing your other hand up to also grip onto the wing, but you couldn’t quite get a hold of it, and it made your other hand slip a little more.
“Shit!”
Your grip started failing, and it was your gasped curse that finally made Damian move. Just as your grip gave out and you started to fall, he dived down the statue and caught you by the wrist. He somehow managed to stay clinging onto the statue himself, anchoring you both to the side of the angel, even while you still dangled over the water – now held up only by Damian’s grip around your wrist.
How the hell he was then able to lift your entire body with such minimal grip was astounding. It was an impressive enough display of strength that it made your belly flip, but Damian lifted you high enough that you were able to get your feet to have some purchase on the base of the statue again, and it brought your face close to his.
“Are you okay?” He huffed, eyes a little wild. No doubt seeing you fall had freaked him out a bit, it almost made you feel guilty for what you were about to do.
“Thank you!” You gasped out. He held you close enough to him now that you could grip tightly to the front of his shirt with your free arm. You manoeuvred the wrist he held so that you could grip his arm tightly with that gloved hand as well. “And I’m sorry.”
The brilliant emerald eyes, so close to yours, blinked in confusion.
“What?”
His eventual realisation came far too late. With your gloved hands tight around him, you pushed hard with your legs and launched both yourself and the unsuspecting vigilante in your grip off of the statue and into the water below.
Damian’s startled yelp cut off as you hit the water, but he had somehow turned you both in the air so he was beneath you before you hit the freezing pond. He managed to give you a quick boost towards the surface before you both let go of the other and got your feet beneath you.
The pond was shallow enough that you both spluttered quickly to the surface and stood, the water level ending up somewhere at your chest and Damian’s waist. You surfaced at his side to a cacophony of sound, cheers and boos coming from around you as the others gathered close around the pools edge.
“What the fuck!” Damian coughed hard as he glared down at you, but you ignored the saturated man beside you and pulled your wet hair from your eyes to look upwards in hope.
Sure enough, Cass now stood perched atop the angel’s outstretched hand, her balance flawless on just the one foot. In her arms – a purring Ryuu.
“Yes!” You threw up your arms and cheered loudly alongside the others in your team who were now gathering at the edges of the pond and roaring with laughter. Jon, Steph, and Tim stood with them, shaking their heads and sighing loudly, but grins covered each of their faces as they took in your and Damian’s sopping states. Damian himself now stared open-mouthed between you and Cass, finally realising the play you had made. Eventually his stunned expression turned to grudging respect.
“Unbelievable,” He muttered, but beneath the irritation was a small smile he couldn’t hide.
“Damian, you had that!” Jon was shouting, “What happened?”
“A dark horse,” Dick was grinning at you as you began to wade out, and reached over for a high five when you got close enough, “Nice going, Amira!”
Steph was complaining loudly, “No fair! That was dirty play!”
Tim was grimacing and had his hands on his hips, “She fits in perfectly,” He said reluctantly.
Jason pretended to wipe away a tear as he reached out to pull you from the pool, “I’m so proud.”
Cass climbed as easily down from the statue as Damian had up, and danced across the stepping stones to your side. Her blinding grin grew wider as you also gave each other high fives.
Sneaky! Her signing was sloppy in her excitement. I like it!
Jon helped Damian out of the pond at your side as he continued to playfully berate his friend and you watched as Damian shook his saturated hair out, causing the wet strands to drape haphazardly over his forehead. Being soaked also meant his clothes now stuck against his body, outlining the heavy muscles and hard lines of his form. You swallowed hard and averted your eyes quickly before the threatening blush could rise to your cheeks alongside your tightening stomach. You were around a family of detectives, the last thing you needed was for them to notice your obvious interest and start to tease.
Of course, Steph had noticed your preoccupation anyway and was currently waggling her eyebrows at you. You lightly punched at one of her arms as you passed by, following a happily chattering Dick as he led the way out of the garden.
Thankfully the sun was still strong, so despite your drenched clothes and the cold water, you were quickly beginning to dry. Once the group hit the rolling grass out the back of the Manor again, you wrung out your hair and the worst of the water from your clothes before flopping down onto the grass.
The others sat around you to continue their animated debrief about the game and the fights through it. Damian chose a spot near you, making sure to shake his head at you with an annoyed smirk.
“Sorry,” You shrugged playfully. “I was desperate.”
He snorted lightly as he tried to wring out his own clothes, “I admit, I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“Is that a compliment?”
His smirk grew more pronounced, “Maybe.”
You grinned at him, “I’ll take it.”
After the game, most of the group dispersed. Tim went quickly back inside, followed by Steph who was teasing him about his vampire lifestyle. Cass left for ballet practice and Dick was quick to excuse himself as he had spent longer away from Kori and little Thomas than he was comfortable with. Jason gave no excuse for leaving, but made sure to tease Dick the entire time the pair walked away. Jon went pale when he heard Alfred’s car pull into the garage with the week’s groceries, and he made a quick exit after that. To one side, you finally saw where Ryuu had disappeared to when you saw your familiar tearing across the grass after a rabbit in the distance.
It left you and Damian to yourselves, and you both decided to stay outside to make the most of the sunshine without discussing it. That and you wanted a bit more time outside to fully dry off. You had ducked back inside just long enough to pull out your book and a sunhat before joining Damian again.
He now worked his way through a series of moves and forms with his katana as you lazed on the grass and started into the second book of the trilogy Jason and Cass had gifted you. You tried hard to keep your eyes on the book and remember to turn the pages, but you often felt your gaze linger on Damian’s form a little too long.
But you eventually found your gaze pulling away from even him, and instead up to stare at the imposing view of the Wayne Manor as your mind wandered back to your earlier conversation with Bruce.
Today had been fun. The people you were around were fun. And for whatever reason, they accepted you into their ranks without flinching and treated you as one of them. You liked it here, and your heart wanted to take Bruce’s offer to stay. But you were so unsure as to where you stood with Damian that you weren’t sure whether you should accept.
Were you just friends or something more? You knew you wanted to be something more, but you were unwilling to be the one to cross the line and ask. Especially when Damian still kept his boundaries so clear, could you really pretend to yourself that he might like you in the same way? Were you reading too much into things?
Was it fair to accept an offer to stay here if Damian didn’t feel the same way?
And that was without mention of how different you were to the people here. The Wayne Manor was massive and stately and showed off the old money of the family with grand opulence. The Wayne family itself was old, rich, and nothing less than the most famous family in Gotham. Even those attached to the family but not legally a part of it were recognisable in their own right.
Whereas you were an orphan from a far-off country that had a much too close relationship with death. Compared to people as incredible as these… you were nothing. Currently your life was very much in a holding pattern. While the Grey Hawks were on your tail, you would stay in hiding. But what your life would be afterwards seemed up in the air.
Going back to the life you knew was a possibility. But if you went back to the streets you would have to once more fight for food and lodgings, and you knew living in passable accommodation would be years away. Or; you could take Bruce Wayne’s offer to live in luxury. But you had your doubts and reservations, and most of them revolved around his son.
“You’re thinking very hard about something.”
You smiled reflectively over at Damian as he spoke, and although he continued moving through different weapon forms as he spoke and didn’t look your way, his question let you know that you had his full attention.
“It’s just this place…” You trailed off as your eyes moved back to the Manor.
Now Damian stopped in place so he could look over at you.
“What about it?”
“It’s so different. To anything I’ve ever known,” At Damian’s deepening frown you hurried to continue, “I really like it here don’t get me wrong.” You struggled to voice the insecurity you felt. “I just… I can’t help thinking…”
Damian sheathed his katana and came over to settle down next to you on the grass. He tilted his head as he took you in, and his next words let you know that he had guessed at but not quite understood what your concern was.
“Amira, you don’t ever have to go back onto the streets. I’ll make sure of it,” His tone was earnest, “You can stay here if you want.”
There it was, the same offer from Damian.
Sure, being back on the streets would suck, you didn’t want to be homeless again. But you had lived that life for so long now that you truly believed you would be able to work your way out of it again if you had to.
Your concern was that you felt so out of place at the Manor, waiting for the change that would surely be happening. It wasn’t even so much your living conditions but why you were being allowed to stay. Obviously, Bruce thought you would be here to stay in a more permanent fashion, but why did Damian make the same offer?
“I know,” You answered, “Your father said much the same.”
Damian’s surprise was obvious, “Bruce did?”
You smiled briefly, “He offered that I stay here as long as I need.” You shrugged as you pulled a lock of hair forward to twirl it, “I’m not really sure how comfortable I am with that. But I would miss everyone…”
I would miss you.
Damian was silent for a long time, clearly struggling with what to say. You wondered if he saw the unspoken words in your eyes or not. You wondered if he would miss you too.
You looked away when he didn’t answer.
“Anyway,” You cleared your throat and continued, “I don’t have to think about it until the Grey Hawks have been brought down.” You decided to change the topic, “How is that going?”
You forced your tone more conversational at the end, and although you saw Damian’s frown from the corner of your eye, he allowed himself to be redirected.
“Things have stalled somewhat,” He admitted as he leaned forward on a bent knee, “But we’re still working our way through the rest of the names and locations you’ve given us.”
“You should take me with you again.” You noticed Damian suddenly stiffen at your words. “If I go through the places after you’re done with them – “
“No.”
You blinked, taking a few seconds to recognise that Damian had interrupted with such an absolute refusal.
“No?” You echoed.
“You’re still healing,” Damian said firmly, and swept on when you opened your mouth to argue. “We have enough to work with for the time being.”
You gave a small smile, huffing in some amusement. “If I can run around playing tag all afternoon, I’m sure I can – “
But Damian interjected again, voice harsh, “I said no, Amira.”
You fell silent, taken aback. His words reminded you of only last week when he had denied you leaving the Manor so absolutely. But he offered no reason this time. Did he just not want you to go outside the Manor’s gates again? Was he really that worried about your injuries?
You waited for Damian to continue and explain, but he simply stood and began working through his weapons forms again without further word. This time, the silence felt more tense, as if something had changed.
Unsure about just what that something was, you decided to bring it up later.
Through the afternoon, things seemed to relax between you both again. When the cloud cover started to come back and the temperature began dropping, you both moved inside and into Damian’s art studio where he took on teaching you how to paint.
With easels set up next to each other, Damian took you through a step-by-step painting of the lake outside of the Manor with the building in the background. By the end of it, while you weren’t sure you had done a great job, and especially next to Damians it looked like a poor representation, but it wasn’t terrible. He seemed pleased enough with your first attempt though, as he put your paintings aside to dry and started cleaning up.
After the laugher and light teasing through the experience, you felt like you could broach the topics of earlier that afternoon once more.
“Damian, can I ask you something?”
He didn’t even look around to you as he gathered up the glass jars you had been washing your brushes in, answering easily, “Yeah, sure.”
“Why don’t you want me to go back out to help with the Grey Hawks?”
There it was, an immediate stiffening to his spine and shoulders, and a wary look in the green eyes that flicked your way. Even his tone held a trace of warning.
“Your injuries – “
You shook your head, frustrated as you interrupted him, “That’s bullshit and you know it.”
Damian stared at you with a steadily deepening frown as you continued. “I’ve been here for weeks now – and with the rate I’ve been healing thanks to Ryuu, I’m more like several months into the healing process. I’m fine.”
He was certainly quick to change his tactic.
“Like I said, we’ve got enough information to work with right now.”
“But you don’t know where Slater is.” Silence was your only answer, and Damian turned away to go into the small storage room off to the side to put his handful of jars down. You followed him loosely, “We both know how much of an asset I can be in finding – “
“No, Amira.” You could see he was starting to get angry, “Please just drop it.”
But you couldn’t, because you just didn’t understand why Damian was so against you going out to help. If finding the Grey Hawk’s had stalled, you could be of use. He knew that and had seen it firsthand. It wasn’t like you were asking to go out alone, so you didn’t understand why he was suddenly so against what the pair of you had been doing for weeks previously.
As you came closer, you saw how tightly Damian was squeezing one of the jars, you stepped into the cupboard and pulled it carefully from his grasp to place it down on a shelf with the others. You closed the door behind you, because you were going to push for answers, and you had the feeling this wasn’t going to be pretty.
“I want to help,” You stood directly in front of Damian, staring up at him and willing him to understand. “I feel like a burden living in this massive building and not doing anything to even help.”
Damian shook his head, the movement agitated, “You are far from a burden.”
“But I still want to help,” You insisted.
“This was my fuck up that led them to all go underground and put you in danger in the first place,” Damian said firmly, “Just let me deal with it.”
“But… I thought we were a team.” You couldn’t help the hurt that came through in the words. You and Damian had been taking down the Grey Hawks together, and you just couldn’t figure out what had changed. But at your words, Damian’s eyes flashed.
“You are not a vigilante.”
As his tone grew more aggressive, Damian seemed to catch himself and took a step back, turning away to place the rest of the jars he was holding down on their shelf with deliberately careful movements.
“I’m aware of that, Damian,” You sighed sharply, feeling yourself getting upset and agitated in response. “But I have a skillset that has led you lot to every breakthrough you’ve had. You need me.”
Even turned away from you, it was hard to miss the sudden increase to how tense Damian was as he set the last jar down with much more force.
“You’re not coming back out to help, Amira,” He snapped with nothing less than an order in his voice. “That’s it! Now drop it!”
You just couldn’t understand the force behind his sudden fury, “Why are you so angry?” You demanded, all but yelling back at him with your own confused anger, “I just want to get back out there and help!”
You were stunned when Damian whirled around with a ferocious expression on his face and eyes blazing as he shouted back into your face.
“Because last time you did you fucking died, Amira!”
You had – what?
It stopped you in your tracks, and on seeing the shock on your face, Damian cursed harshly and turned to slam a furious fist into the shelf next to him. It immediately gave way under the force of the blow, sending the numerous small glasses on it tumbling to the ground to shatter explosively.
You both stood utterly still, letting the glass shatter and tinkle at your feet until it eventually came to a stop. Time seemed to slow around you as you simply watched Damian, watched the expressions play out across the face he dared not fully bring around to look at you. His breaths were heavy and heaving, but as you waited, they too settled until both of you breathed evenly and slowly in the small space.
Damian’s eyes stayed downcast and away from you, but his voice as he at last broke the silence was tortured, the words seemingly dragged out of him.
“You stopped breathing in my arms, Amira, and I – I couldn’t – I never…” He let out a long, shuddering breath. “I never want to feel that helpless again.”
Your heart was aching. Hurting, hoping. But now you understood, and all the clues from those elsewhere in the Manor now made sense. You knew you had needed surgery and had spent days in intensive care after being shot, but you hadn’t realised you had died and been brought back from the brink. No wonder Damian didn’t want you back out there.
The depth of his concern for you now made sense. It was because he cared for you, it had to be. But how much? Did he care like you did?
“I made it out, Damian.” You reminded him quietly, trying to reassure some of his fears. “I can’t promise I’ll never be in danger again, but there are so many dangers out there.” Shrugging you gestured widely, “Tomorrow I could trip and fall and hit my head, or maybe have a sudden brain aneurysm and die. You can’t protect me from it all.”
“I can try,” Damian’s voice was deadly serious and resolute as he finally looked back around to you as you spoke, those brilliant emerald eyes as intense as you had ever seen them.
You laughed softly, “What, for my whole life?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
The seriousness of his answer and the deep determination in his gaze had your small flicker of humour quickly fleeing. Your whole life? Was Damian really promising he would stay by your side that long?
Visions of the future you had seen at his side were suddenly pulled forward to play in the forefront of your mind, teasing you with whispered promises of forever at this man’s side. With nothing but desperate hope driving you forward, you stepped towards him, shoes crunching on the shattered glass, and you raised a gloved hand up to cup Damian’s cheek.
His eyes fluttered closed just before you made contact, and the slight sigh that escaped his lips made you pause. The small noise was enough to bring you sharply back to your senses. What were you doing?
“Sorry, I – “ You pulled your hand back abruptly, caught somewhere in between wanting so desperately to touch the man you cared for, and knowing it wasn’t what the Damian before you wanted.
After everything you had seen, everything you felt, and after all this time, Damian still wasn’t willing to cross this barrier between you. Maybe… maybe this Damian would never grow to be the one you had seen in your vision. Maybe you were forcing too much hope onto him that things were growing to be different.
His eyes opened again as you spoke, and a small frown pulled down his brow as he glanced down to the gloved hand you were pulling back in against your chest, pressing it to your aching heart.
“What is it?”
“It’s just…” You were mortified when wetness began to well in your eyes, fuelled by a grief that perhaps your perfect future with a Damian who loved you wasn’t to be after all. You looked aside, trying to hide the depth of your hurt.
“Just visions of the future,” You explained weakly, “You’ve asked I don’t tell you, just like you’ve asked me not to touch you.” Your voice started to break, “I can respect that, respect you…”
You took a deep breath in, drew in all the strength you had left, and raised your eyes to meet the brilliant green across from yours, knowing the rawness of your breaking heart was on full display for him to see.
“I won’t go out to help again,” You agreed quietly, “Not if you don’t want me to.”
Damian looked horrified, whether it was at the tears in your eyes or your words, you weren’t sure. But he stepped in towards you, so close that his torso almost came flush against yours. His head also ducked down towards you, expression turning almost desperate, pleading.
“Amira, I don’t – “
The door to the cupboard swinging open startled the two of you enough that you jumped apart, sending glass shards skidding further across the floor. Outside of the small space stood two men, no doubt drawn by the sound of shattering glass. One stood with a jaw that had actually dropped on seeing you so close, and one with a massive, shit-eating grin. Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson.
Shit.
Immediately ducking your head to hide your wet eyes, you inched quickly out of the cupboard.
“I was just leaving,” You muttered.
Stepping away from Damian’s side, you were aware that one of his hands reached out towards you, as if to stop you from leaving. You sidestepped it and fled the room as the tears finally started to fall, the stunned gazes of three men following you out.
Chapter 28: This is an Intervention
Notes:
Hi all!
Sorry, chapter is a little later this week but I've been sick and that's it for the excuses :}
This is a shorter one between all the super long chapters at the end of this, but enjoy the final lead up to the two main characters finally getting their heads straight!!
Lots of love to you all, take care of yourselves <3
Chapter Text
AMIRA
This was without a doubt, the worst day of your life.
You had avoided seeing Damian at breakfast that morning and had stayed in your room most of the day reading. You hadn’t sought Damian out, but you weren’t hiding like you had been the other week, and he certainly hadn’t come to see you.
It was perhaps the first day in months that you hadn’t seen him, and you missed him so much you thought you might be going through withdrawals. You missed his frowns and the deep bass of his voice, you missed his glares that never quite held the irritation he intended, you missed the heat from his body when he sat so close you almost touched, you missed the way his lips lifted in the small smiles he no longer tried to hide.
But if Damian didn’t want to see you, then you would give him space and not seek him out.
Being ignored hurt in deeper ways than you had expected, taking you back to the days in the orphanage when not one person wanted to be near you, or when you had been adopted and even the people who had chosen you didn’t want you after all.
You had grown so miserable through the day that you eventually presented your pathetic self to Steph’s door in tears. She had dragged you immediately in and called an ‘emergency girl session’ for which you had to wait for both Barbara and Cass to be present before you were allowed to explain why you had been sobbing so hard.
It didn’t help that Steph was currently doubled over in laughter across from you as you explained.
“Bruce found you in a closet together??” She squealed.
You glared at her through your tears, and you blew your nose again.
“We were arguing!”
Steph couldn’t hold in her chortling, “Do you have any idea how that looks?!”
“Yeah, I know it looks bad,” You snapped, and wiped the last of the tears away.
Babs also looked very amused where she sat in her wheelchair off to one side. “Just bad?” She smiled as she arched an eyebrow.
“Okay, okay,” You grimaced, “I’ve watched enough movies and read enough books to get it.”
“Damn right!” Steph cracked up again.
Cass and Babs were doing a much better job at hiding their laughter, but you still saw the shaking shoulders that gave them away. Elizabeth and Carol had followed you through to Steph’s room in solidarity, but even they were smiling now.
“I came here for sympathy.” You muttered petulantly, feeling like a child.
“Oh, Amira.” Steph sat next to you on the bed and flung an arm across your shoulders while Cass patted your knee with a smile from your other side. At your feet, Ryuu was curled up against you as it purred comfortingly. A ghostly hand settled on your back in silent support.
You sighed heavily, “I just feel so stupid.”
Babs smiled again, this one with more patience than humour, “I wouldn’t give up so early.”
“Seriously?” You ripped another tissue out of the box in irritation, “After all this time he hasn’t touched me because he wanted to, not once. Not even through clothes. I think it’s pretty clear Damian doesn’t like me in that way.”
Babs pushed her glasses up her nose before folding her arms, settling her gaze onto you.
“Damian was brought up in a clan of assassins, with a mother whose idea of love was sending him off on another life-threatening mission,” She reminded you, “And when he was ten, he was left with a father whose idea of love was a nod of approval no matter how perfectly well he performed.”
Steph was nodding at your side, “Babs is saying just give him some leeway. He doesn’t get the love thing either.”
You startled at her words, immediately growing defensive, “I – I didn’t say love.”
Each of the women around you simply smiled, especially Carol who grinned from ear to ear, and it made you feel like they knew something you didn’t. But… love. It was such a big word when you hadn’t even worked out if Damian felt the same. Which, if being avoided after yesterday was anything to go off, he didn’t.
He cares about you. Cass signed. It is clear to all of us.
“Have you actually talked about it with him?” Babs asked.
“He’s said he doesn’t want his future read. So therefore, he doesn’t want to touch me.”
“So you haven’t talked about it,” Steph rolled her eyes.
“They’re not asking about talking about futures,” Elizabeth explained gently, “But if you have talked about the way you feel about him.”
You wrinkled your nose at her and made sure to say aloud, “Not… not about feelings for each other.”
Babs now spoke again, “Even asking if it’s okay to touch him through clothes could be a good place to start,” At your worried look, she smiled, “Hold hands, hug, you know.”
“It’ll let him know you want to,” Steph spoke up.
“The worst he can say is no,” Babs shrugged.
But Cass was shaking her head, He will not say no.
You sighed. You knew you hadn’t talked about feelings with Damian, especially towards each-other, but maybe you found doing so as hard as he did.
“It’s scary,” You admitted, staring down at the tissue you held in your lap.
Babs tilted her head, “But would you regret it your whole life if you didn’t ask?”
Damn her for being so wise.
“Yeah,” You muttered. You chewed on your lip for a while as you thought. They were right though, everything you were scared and worried about were all things you only thought were going on, things you assumed. But you hadn’t asked Damian once what he actually felt for you. And as scared as you had been about it, you hadn’t even asked if it would be okay to hold his hand.
The worst he could say is no. Of course, it would no doubt forever change your friendship.
But you would forever regret it if you never asked.
You groaned, “Okay, okay. I’ll do it.”
Babs sent you two thumbs up, “Nice one.” There was a happy pat on your knee from Cass, and Steph let out a whoop of victory before jumping up from your side. Ryuu wound itself around your legs, purring loudly and projecting warm approval through your bond. Carol clutched on to Elizabeth’s arm in excitement, and they shared a pleased look.
Dancing to the side of the room, Steph grabbed something out of a drawer and bounced back over to your side.
“Here, take this.” She slapped a packet into your palm, and to your horror, you saw it was Plan B.
“Oh my Gods, Steph – “
“Don’t argue!” She waved a hand in the air as she grinned widely, “Just come and see me when you want to be put on actual birth control.”
You dragged a hand down your face, mortified, especially when Babs and Cass joined in on her laughter.
DAMIAN
This was without a doubt, the worst day of his life.
He hadn’t gone to breakfast, not sure what he could possibly say to Amira after events last night. Whatever conversation they were yet to have, it wasn’t going to be pretty. Damian was sure things couldn’t have gone much worse.
Driven by fear of Amira being out to help them again with the Grey Hawks, he had refused her help, refused to even have the conversation with her. And until she had pushed him enough that he lashed out, she hadn’t even known why. Even after he had hurt her, turning away her help and throwing it back in her face, she had still only tried to reassure him.
He had seen the hope in her eyes as he vowed to protect her for her whole life, even as he questioned what the hell he was doing making promises like that. But Damian knew he had meant every word. And when Amira had stepped closer with a hand reaching out towards him, all he had thought was finally. But as he prepared himself for the hand reaching for his cheek, she had suddenly pulled back with a new, strange grief in her eyes.
“You’ve asked I don’t tell you, just like you’ve asked me not to touch you.”
But Damian didn’t want that distance anymore, he didn’t want that at all. He wanted Amira’s touch so badly it hurt. But he was crippled by so much fear. Fear to bring her into his world of danger and pain. Fear of what his future held. Fear of how damn much he already cared for her.
The last look Amira had sent him haunted Damian. Seeing her look of defeat as she gave into him with tears in her eyes… Something had broken then, and Damian wasn’t sure what it had been.
He should have leaned into the contact, should have said something to let her know he felt the same.
He should have moved away, should have said he couldn’t do this and explained to her why.
Damian didn’t know what to do to make a fuck up like that better. Damian didn’t even know what he felt about it except sick to his stomach.
And so he was hiding, both from Amira and from his own damn emotions. Anger was so much easier than this, but he couldn’t even work that up, as swallowed as it was by the awful churning in his stomach because he knew he had perhaps irreversibly hurt the woman he cared for.
Damian sighed as he turned the page, aware that he was now most of the way through the book and he didn’t even know the main character’s name, let alone what the plot might be.
That said, he was still irritated when the library doors opened and his solitude was disturbed by the three idiots walking through, no doubt determined to make his day worse. Dick, Tim, and Jason made a beeline for him on spotting his setup in one corner. Damian made sure to glare heavily, letting them know he was not in the mood for any antics.
The trio came to a stop before him, and Dick was the first to speak.
“Alright, Damian, we need to talk.”
Damian eyed them, seeing the serious air they each had and – why was Jason holding rope?
“What about?” He growled.
Dick crossed his arms, “Amira.”
Damian blinked once.
“No.”
He put down his book and stood to leave, but Jason stepped forward and lifted the rope a little higher with a small smirk.
“Take another step, we dare you.”
Tim had dropped into a fighting stance, no doubt anticipating Damian’s reaction, “We’re not above tying you down and forcing this,” He warned.
Damian stared between each of his brothers, seriously considering his odds of beating them all in a fight. All he had to do was make it to the door…
But seeing the seriousness in Dick’s eyes, Damian knew they had come to say something, and say it they would, even if they had to chase him across the entire Manor. He would be able to avoid them for a while, but there were three of them and one of him. They could wait him out and get to him in his sleep or while otherwise vulnerable, no doubt they would stake out the kitchen and deny him a food source. Perhaps it was time to activate one of his personal safehouses –
Okay, maybe fighting it out would be something of an overreaction.
Slowly, Damian sat back into the chair, and each of the men before him relaxed slightly, no longer expecting a fight.
“And just what is this?” Damian demanded.
“This is an intervention,” Jason said with relish.
Tim wasn’t deterred by the furious glare that swept over the three of them. “We all thought things were going well, but then…”
Then yesterday. Damian couldn’t help his wince. Dick and Bruce had tried to talk to him yesterday after Amira had fled from the room, but Damian had threatened them roundly enough that they had been quick to back off and leave the studio, leaving him to clean up the shattered glass and think on the emotional mess he had left behind that would be so much harder to deal with.
Dick raised an eyebrow, “I honestly thought me and Bruce had walked in on something we really shouldn’t have,” Jason snorted at that, “But it was pretty clear pretty quick that wasn’t the case.”
Tim narrowed his eyes, “So what happened?”
Damian just crossed his arms and continued to glare out at them all, staying silent. Dick sighed on recognising the stubborn look.
“Dami, we’re just trying to help.”
“I’m not,” Jason announced, “I’m here to make his life a living hell, and what better way to do so than talk about feelings?”
Tim punched Jason’s arm.
“Not helpful, man.”
Jason frowned across at him, “Careful replacement, or I’ll use the rope on you instead.”
Tim just rolled his eyes, not looking worried in the slightest, “Feeling kinky today?”
Dick sent them an irritated look, “Guys, focus.” He turned back to Damian with a frown of his own and pulled up a chair to sit across from him.
“Look, you and Amira are obviously close,” He began, “You obviously like each other. No one seems to understand why you’re not just together.”
Damian couldn’t put into words how much he didn’t want to talk about this.
“There’s plenty of reasons,” He muttered, hoping to just get them off his back. He should have known better.
“Try us.”
Damian looked between the three of them, seriously considering making a run for it again. Jason noticed the extra attention and lifted the rope a little higher in silent threat. He sent him an annoyed look and turned his thoughts elsewhere.
It had been a while since all the brothers had been in one place together, and it very rarely happened just to talk. Damian expected this from Dick, he was the most overtly emotional of the bunch. Frankly, he was surprised that Jason and Tim were even here, but just their presence alone showed that at least to some degree, they cared about the outcome.
Fighting wasn’t an option. Silence clearly wasn’t going to be accepted either, which left Damian with only one option – he would have to talk.
He went for the easiest first.
“I can’t bring her into this life,” He said shortly, “It’s not safe.”
Tim lifted a hand, flicking down a finger for each countering point he rapidly fired back his way.
“Firstly, shouldn’t that be Amira’s choice? Second, is she actually any safer out on the streets? Plus, she’s a magic user, and without any support around she’ll be even more vulnerable.” Tim paused for a moment, “You know what, I’m putting two down for that one.” A third finger went down before he continued. “Additionally, it’ll be way safer for her to be a part of things once the Grey Hawks are brought down.”
“She’s already almost died,” Damian gritted out.
Jason shrugged as he leaned against the chair Dick sat in. “So what? Who hasn’t?”
“Plus,” Dick joined in, “There’s different dangers living on the streets brings.”
“She won’t be on the streets,” Damian snapped, “I’ll make sure of it.”
Dick tilted his head, “So you’re going to keep meddling in Amira’s life but not even give her the option to just be a part of yours?”
Damian opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. That… would be an asshole move on his behalf. Dick smiled on seeing his silence.
“Next.”
Damian swallowed and glared again for good measure, recognising he had been outsmarted on those points at least. “I can’t even touch her,” He pointed out.
“You can,” Jason smirked, “You’re just shit scared.”
“Say that again,” Damian’s furious snarl was nothing less than a threat as he leaned forward in the chair.
Dick actually turned around in his own chair to pin his brother with a look, “Jay, please.”
Tim picked up the questioning, “You can touch her – she just gets a vision. But have you tested the loopholes?”
Damian blinked, quickly diverted, “Loopholes?”
“What if you touch her immediately after the vision?” Tim asked, “Does she get another one? Or what if you leave your hand on her? Can she learn to hold the visions at bay? What if - ?”
“I get it.” He muttered, annoyed to find his mind quickly spinning with his own queries and possible ways to get around it. “But seeing my future every single time we touch isn’t something I can ask of her.”
“Why not?” Jason asked bluntly.
Dick sighed, “We mean, shouldn’t that again, be up to her?”
Damian fell silent once more.
“Alright, what else?” Dick asked.
What else? What if Amira said no? What if he’d fucked up badly enough last night that whatever they might have had was now irreparable?
Damian looked aside, saying nothing. He knew the only questions left could only be answered by Amira herself.
“So nothing?” Tim asked rhetorically, “Great, go talk to her then.”
“Dude, she’s basically family already,” Jason said when Damian didn’t bother to answer, sounding annoyed, “We all like her, and she’s done nothing but fit seamlessly around us all. She’s here to stay, no matter what you decide.”
“Dami,” Dick’s serious tone made him turn back to find worried blue eyes piercing him, “If you don’t talk to her and be honest about what you’re feeling, you’re going to lose her.”
I can’t lose her.
The instinctive thought told Damian everything he needed to know.
The thought of Amira not being around brought back memories of when she had almost died. How could he live the rest of his life knowing what he was missing out on? He wanted to have breakfast with Amira every morning and watch her twirl her hair around a finger as she thought over her crossword. He wanted to spend time with someone that interested and challenged him and made him try new things. He wanted the easy friendship that somehow had him talking more to her than probably anyone else in his life ever put together.
The thought of no longer seeing her bright smile every day made Damian’s chest hurt.
He’d thought giving in to his feelings and asking her to stay would be selfish, but now he realised he was doing a disservice to Amira by not allowing her the choice. He had seen the hurt on her face when he had denied her help purely out of his own fear. He didn’t want to become his father and start controlling other’s actions based on the mere possibility of consequences.
He wanted to stay with Amira. He wanted her to choose to stay with him.
But that choice would only come if Damian asked her.
“Well?” Jason prompted at last after the long minutes of silence, “What the fuck is in your way?”
Damian looked back up to Dick and the others, knowing a new determination blazed in his gaze. Dick and Tim grinned back at him, while Jason merely rolled his eyes.
“Finally.”
Chapter 29: Confessions
Notes:
I AM SO SORRY because I realise I left you guys on a massive cliffhanger then disappeared for weeks!
Honestly, I've edited this chapter so much that it's been pretty much entirely rewritten like 4 times, but it's time to just post it already!!So this is a massive FINALLY moment, it's only taken basically the whole fic to get here 😂 I truly hope you like it!!
Because I've been AWOL I'm dropping two chapters now, then a third later this week which should bring us up to date again!Thank you all so much for getting so far in <3 It's incredible to see the support still coming in for this fic and I appreciate you for the kudos, comments, bookmarks, and just for reading:))
As always, lots of love your way and take care of yourselves xxNOTE: explicit sex scene!
If you're not keen to read it then stop at the * I've placed before a paragraph:)1/2
Chapter Text
AMIRA
You had spent too many hours to count staring at the ceiling. So long now that you could recall just how many different panels were on it, how many individual crystals the chandelier had, and had memorised every intricate swirl on the detailing.
You had just started figuring out how much money one could make if they sold all the unnecessary decorations in your room when there was a knock at your door. Figuring it was Steph, given she had promised to bring you food if you didn’t turn up for dinner, you called out.
“Come in.”
But the measured footsteps that came through your door were not the light skip of the Spoiler, and you sat bolt upright when you realised you recognised the heavier, more measured steps.
Damian paused in the doorway, green eyes uncharacteristically anxious as they flicked over you, and his fingers subconsciously pulled at a non-existent thread on his shirt. For a long moment you stared silently at the other, and you were surprised to see vulnerability in the expression across from you before Damian at last turned and closed the door behind himself.
Carol and Elizabeth had been silently keeping you company, but on Damian’s entrance, they shared a look and quickly floated through the wall to give you privacy.
Damian had watched your gaze slide away as it followed them, and when it snapped back to him again at their exit, he seemed to realise you were now alone.
“I have something I need to say,” He said quietly.
Something inside you recognised this was serious, and for once you saw just as much fear and insecurity in the gaze across from you as you felt. It seemed tonight the barriers were well and truly down.
“Okay,” You whispered, pulling yourself into a cross-legged position on the bed.
You were feeling a million things at once, fear, hope, despair, longing… And in Damian’s surprisingly open expression, you saw those same emotions reflected back at you.
“I didn’t… handle things last night very well.” He cleared his throat, but his bright gaze didn’t deviate once from yours, “I firstly wanted to apologise, especially for ignoring you through today, but I need to set the record straight on some things.”
He took a long breath in.
“I didn’t want you to come out and help with the Grey Hawk’s again, because I didn’t want you to get hurt again. But I - I don’t want to be my father, forcing people to do what I want because I fear the consequences. And I don’t want you to go against what you feel is right just because I tell you otherwise. If you want to help with the Grey Hawk’s again, I’ll make that happen.”
Damian paused to take another deep breath, and you watched carefully. His own eyes still hadn’t left yours, as if he was watching for every small tell from you as to your reactions.
“The… the other thing…” He swallowed hard, an outward sign as to just how difficult this was for him.
“You said that I’ve told you not to touch me, and I have said that before. But my thoughts have since changed.”
You felt your breath catch and you stood from the bed, for a second sure you had misheard, but Damian swept on, eyes hardening with sudden firmness.
“Amira, I want you, more than I ever thought possible. I want to touch you. And I want you to touch me, no matter what comes with it.” He took a step closer, and you watched with wide eyes as everything about the man before you became more intense, his voice deeper, his brow lowered, his posture straight on to you as if you were the only thing in this world that he could see – and was utterly transfixed on.
“I don’t want – I can’t live a life without you at my side. Without you everything I know is in shades of grey, with you comes a brightness I don’t want to lose.” Damian took another step towards you, continuing with a voice thrumming with emotion, “I care for you, so much, and I need to know if you might feel the same. If, once the Grey Hawks are gone, you might want to stay here… with me.”
You must have stopped breathing entirely at some point, because you had to physically remind yourself that you needed air. But here was Damian, offering everything you had ever wanted - ever hoped or dreamed for - and something as simple as air seemed to pale in significance to being offered a life at the side of the most incredible man you had ever met.
You had to tear your gaze away to take another few breaths before you looked back, if only to convince yourself you weren’t hallucinating. Damian was looking more nervous as each second without an answer ticked by.
“Please Amira,” His voice held the slight roughness that you finally now recognised as need, as desire. “I need to know if you feel the same.”
“Yes.”
The word slipped past your lips without you even thinking them through fully. Yes. A million times yes. Relief and joy shattered the uncertain frown on Damian’s face, and through it all burned the biggest smile you had seen from him, turning his dark features open and devastatingly handsome for one brilliant moment.
“Damian,” Your stunned whisper of his name was enough to have him striding across the room towards you, hands reaching out to finally make contact after all this time –
“Wait.” You caught his hands in yours before they could touch you. His hands reflectively curled around your gloved ones and by the Gods you were finally holding hands with Damian Wayne.
“Wait,” You said again, hating yourself for making him stop and causing the frown to come back, “I don’t know if I can ever touch anyone without getting a vision,” You reminded him in a whisper.
The hands in yours threaded through your gloved fingers, and marvelling at the strength of them sidetracked you enough that you almost didn’t hear Damian’s follow up question.
“Do you get two visions if you touch someone twice?”
You jerked your gaze away from your intertwined fingers to blink up at him, brought up short by the simple question you’d never had ability to test.
“I don’t know.”
The frown on Damian’s face deepened, “You’ve never been touched by anyone for anything but a vision before?”
“No.”
For a moment, anger and guilt in equal parts flashed across his face, but it quickly smoothed out again to make way for a look of determination.
“Then we find out together.”
Together. You were staggered by the word, but it made hope flare inside you, brighter than it had ever been. You stared at Damian, feeling your chest heave with fear and excitement. He stared calmly back at you as he slowly pulled off your gloves and let them drop to the floor, the sound loud in the tense silence between you. He then took a step back, holding out one of his bare hands palm-up in offer.
You looked from him to the offered hand, and back.
“I’m scared,” You whispered, and your voice broke. So much rode on this moment. What if this didn’t work? Would you be forever doomed not to touch the man before you?
Damian nodded, admitting quietly, “Me too.”
But that small assurance that despite how amazing and capable the vigilante was, he was still as scared as you were, suddenly made you all the braver. So with a deep breath, you moved your palm forward to press it against Damian’s.
The vision pulled you under immediately, and you were swept up into a rapid series of visions that flickered and changed, giving you only a second of two to view each one.
On one you sat on a wooden bench, gazing out across the gardens of Wayne Manor. Damian sat beside you with his arm thrown casually across your shoulders as you both watched the pinks and oranges of the sunset bleed across the sky. Ryuu sat on his other shoulder and was purring heavily.
In another you sat in a small café with a spread of small sandwiches before you. Around you sat people you had only recently come to know – Stephanie, Cassandra, Barbara, and Selina. The latter pair were laughing heartily while Steph was hunched over and coughing hard through her own laughter. Cass was grinning widely as she pounded on her back.
A large hall, decorated with twinkling lights and colourful drapes. A crowd surrounded the centre in which couples danced. Within the whirling pairs you saw yourself, being twirled effortlessly by the man leading your dance with intense, emerald eyes that never left yours.
There was one of only yourself, your features more mature and your pale eyes wiser. But your expression was all adoring happiness as you stared down at a bundle of blankets in your arms. As you watched, a tiny hand reached upwards towards you.
And finally, a vision you had seen before. A different Batman to the one you knew stood across from you atop a rooftop. High collar and cape ruffling in the breeze, he looked over towards you and pulled back his cowl. This time, the vision was sharp and in focus as Damian smiled back at you.
You snapped out of the vision and stumbled back with a physical gasp.
“Oh!” You gulped for air, swallowing hard against the realisation that you had just had flashes of an entire life ahead of you. You had never seen your own future with such clarity, had never even imagined that it could be so closely intertwined with someone else.
Someone else that now stood before you, looking wary but determined as he tried to read beyond your stunned expression.
“Amira?” This voice was younger, the Damian you knew. “What was it?”
You stared back at him and cleared your throat.
“Possibilities, I think.”
A frown pulled his brows down, “About me?”
“About us.”
Damian’s own surprise lit his eyes, and he stayed silent for a while as he seemed to think through just what that could mean. You smiled slightly as you repeated back a question he was now used to hearing.
“Do you want to know?”
The light teasing question caused a reflective smile to rise to Damian’s lips, but he quickly sobered.
“No, I want to find out.” The small smile dropped as he again held his palm upwards in offer, “Are you ready?”
Taking a deep breath, the seriousness of the moment started to dawn on you. This was it. This would tell all. Please, you begged anything and everything that would listen, Please just let me have this.
Looking up into the bright green across from you, you prayed that the vision you had just had would prove that you could touch him. That hopefully you could do it now, and it wouldn’t have to be something you would have to learn…
With a small nod of encouragement from Damian, you took a breath, and again pressed your palm down against his.
And…
Nothing.
Your gaze dropped to stare down at your hands where they met. You… You were touching someone. Skin to skin. You were finally touching Damian’s skin. It was warm and silky, yet calloused and strong as you dragged your hand slightly back just to marvel at the feel. But even as your skin moved against his, there was still no vision triggered.
“There’s nothing,” You said, stunned. But then excitement started to mount, and you looked back up to Damian with a blinding grin on your face, “There’s no vision! Damian, I can - !”
*His lips crashed down onto yours, muffling your sound of surprise, and large, calloused hands threaded into your hair and curved around the back of your neck to pull you in close.
You had always wondered if you might freeze, unsure how to respond to finally being touched. But you responded instinctively, desperately, and you were immediately kissing Damian back, gasping into his mouth as your bare hands met the skin of his face and brushed into the silky threads of his hair.
Kissing Damian was everything you had imagined and more. The minty scent you had come to recognise as his was now something you could taste. And while Damian was demanding, insatiable, and immediately moving to control the kiss, he still faltered and groaned when your tongue traced over his bottom lip.
At first the kisses were clumsy. You were both new to this, desperate with need and high on the unbelievable feeling of being touched by someone else, but you soon fell into a rhythm, both reading the other’s responses and quickly recognising what felt good and what felt better.
You gasped and sighed into Damian’s mouth as his lips continued to learn yours, and you were hyperaware of the large hands with rough texture that moved so reverently over your face. They caressed your jaw, your cheekbones, and your neck, as if tracing the sloping lines of your features was something he couldn’t help but do now that he was finally able.
One of your own hands was buried in Damian’s hair, mindlessly twisting through and marvelling at the silk of the inky black threads. The other also traced Damian’s features, finally getting to smooth over the dark bronze of his skin, feeling every slight imperfection of healed scars, the roughness of barely-there stubble, and the slight upwards tilt of Damian’s lips as they lifted in his own satisfaction.
The shock of having anything other than clothes over your skin was overridden by need. If this was anyone other than Damian you would’ve stopped in your tracks and pulled away – needing some sort of space to breathe and try and come to terms with how overwhelming it was to feel. But this was Damian, and your every breath was stolen by him and shared as the space between you finally disappeared. And all you wanted was more.
Without even realising, you somehow ended on your back on the bed. Clothes were discarded as eager hands continued to explore, and you both ended up flush against the other’s bare skin. It felt right, natural, as if all barriers had needed to completely fall away after the months spent dancing around the instinctive knowledge that the other had craved this just as much.
Pressing against Damian while both naked was nothing short of incredible, and you ran your hands over all the hard ridges and muscle of his body as greedily as he dragged his hands over your curves. You were feeling, more than you ever thought would be possible. All the heat from your bodies and the ridges of scars against the smooth expanse of skin and the wetness of his mouth on yours –
You both touched and caressed and dragged your hands over each other’s skin to learn them. The sensations were incredible. You had never thought having someone’s hands on you would have you gasping for breath while you were lit alight from the inside, but Damian drew the response from your body without effort, and you were quickly moaning under his touch.
Eventually his hands moved down, running over your shoulders, down your arms, then to your breasts to caress and play. When his mouth moved away to join his hands your head tipped back with a gasp.
“Damian!”
His hands continued slowly down, slipping over your hips and curving over your ass. It was like he was committing every last inch of you to memory, as thoroughly as if he would have to recreate you later. You weren’t even sure if it was the artist or the detective in him that caused such incredible attention to detail, but the thoroughness to the way he worked down your body had you writhing under him as gasps and moans slipped from your mouth.
Hushed praises were murmured against your skin throughout, and for a moment you concentrated in on Damian’s rasped whispers.
“…So fucking beautiful, Amira. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this…”
And then his tongue teased over one nipple, and a hoarse cry fell from your lips.
When his hands finally worked their way back to smooth up your inner thighs you whimpered. But his touch stayed light, gentle as he swiped a thumb over your clit, dipped a finger inside you. Then he was moving, bringing his whole body down yours so his mouth could settle over your pussy, and you jerked as the hot wetness of his tongue teased your entrance. You moaned and gasped as Damian started to work you with tongue and fingers in delicious tandem. His rhythm started slow, achingly slow, but was soon increasing in pace.
“Fuck - ah!”
You felt Damian’s smile against your skin as your curse broke off into a whine as he speared a finger deep at the same time as he licked over your clit. Your hands gripped at his hair, and you were almost sure you were hurting him except that the way he drove his fingers into you just become wilder.
“Dami… I – oh!”
You couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, let alone words as your body started to tighten and tremble under him. Damian pulled his head back just for a moment, and his voice was rough with his desire even as his thumb and finger continued to work your body up.
“That’s it, Amira, let go for me.”
As if his words had been the permission you needed, your back suddenly bowed as your orgasm smashed into you, and your head tipped back with a loud cry. Damian’s head ducked back down, and he licked leisurely up your folds as you came, only prolonging and heightening the intense pleasure as you shattered around him. Finally, you came back down.
“Oh my… Oh my gods…”
You were breathing hard, and when Damian moved back up your body, the sight of his small smirk combined with the satisfied glint in his bright eyes just about stopped your heart. He lowered his head to kiss you again, and you tasted yourself on his lips.
“Okay?”
“Yes.” Your answer was barely more than a breath, but you had no doubt your dazed smile said everything you couldn’t.
“Good.”
When he arched up over you, his eyes asked the question, but you were already entirely and desperately in agreement.
“Please.”
This was right. This was a surrender. Every wall and barrier had finally fallen, and you could see reflected back in Damian’s eyes that you were both giving completely in to the other, no matter what came next.
And then he was pushing into you, and you both groaned as you felt your increased wetness around him.
“Fuck, Amira,” Damian’s voice was strained as he started to move.
His strokes were slow, but you could see in his eyes that the grasp he held over his control was slipping. You dragged his mouth back down to yours again and kissed him, but this time you let your lips explore down his jaw and throat, and you heard Damian’s breaths hitch as you grazed your teeth lightly at the hollow of his neck. His next thrust was slightly harder, and you felt the hands at your hips tighten. It made you whimper against his skin, and that was when his thin tether of control broke.
Damian’s hips snapped forward, and then he was pounding into you, driving deep and hard and making you cry out. It wasn’t long before you felt release building along your spine again, and your back started to bow. Damian took the opportunity to slip an arm under you and tilt your hips up, making him hit so much deeper, and you gasped as he started to drag against the most sensitive spot inside you. He no doubt felt your walls start to flutter and tighten around him, because a growled curse slipped past his lips, and his hips started to stutter before he slammed in hard. It triggered you both, and you came so hard you saw stars, but your loud cry was swallowed by Damian’s demanding lips on yours as he spilled into you.
You went utterly limp beneath him, and Damian too collapsed, but quickly rolled aside so his much larger body wouldn’t crush you. He pulled you over his body as he moved, so you ended up lying on top of him as he lay on his back in your bed.
“Damian…” You didn’t know how to begin to verbalise the number of emotions tumbling through you.
As you both came down you stared at each other, pale blue eyes meeting brilliant green, and your gasping breaths slowly settled and evened out. You weren’t sure how much of your stunned pleasure was showing on your face, but Damian’s guards were completely gone for the first time you had seen, and his own pleased contentment glittered in his eyes and made his gaze even more intense than usual. You were so desperately happy that you were here.
He ducked his head again and Damian’s lips brushed against your own as he sighed your name against them, voice sounding as heavy with unspoken words as yours had been.
“Amira.”
You left your hands buried in Damian’s hair, and felt his own hands continue to lazily trace up your back. Finally getting to touch the other was something neither of you was willing to give up so soon.
“Was that alright?” He asked quietly.
“More than alright,” You murmured, “Incredible.”
You lifted your head to look again at the man under you, and were stunned by the easy smile on his face, the expression one of exhausted but triumphant satisfaction. Leaning forward to kiss Damian again, you basked in the afterglow of pleasure and happiness that came with at last being able to touch the man you had finally realised you were falling in love with.
Chapter 30: New
Notes:
2/2
♥️♥️♥️
Chapter Text
DAMIAN
If he wasn’t so sure that when he died he would be sent to some version of hell, Damian might have thought he had awoken in heaven.
When he opened his eyes, it was to see Amira’s head on his chest, her jet-black hair haloing her. One of her arms was splayed across his chest to loosely embrace him, and her legs were entangled with his.
For someone who had only ever spent one night in bed with a woman before, to now wake with her naked and draped over him made Damian freeze in place. The memories of last night were so miraculous, if he didn’t have Amira still naked in bed with him, he wouldn’t have believed it.
As Damian slowly relaxed again, he took note of the sensations he had never before been able to feel, but had craved so desperately when it came to this one woman.
With his every breath, he felt the slight slide of silk across his skin that was her own. Her warmth and soft curves against him were comforting rather than suffocating, and her loose embrace was even more so. How incredible that he finally had Amira against him, how desperately lucky he was that she didn’t have a vision every single time someone brushed against her skin.
How utterly unbelievable that she had wanted him as much as he needed her.
Hesitantly, Damian reached out to touch her. She was warm and soft, with perfectly deep golden, unmarked skin. It was in sharp contrast to his own heavily scarred muscle, but Damian found he enjoyed the feel of it under his calloused hands.
As his fingers traced carefully down her side, Amira murmured quietly and turned her head so Damian could now see her face. He had seen her elegant features slack before, but this time the expression was peaceful and almost held a small smile as she slept. It wasn’t the same slackness as her brush with death, and on seeing the difference, something inside Damian settled.
Amira was stunning, and everything he could have ever hoped for. Damian felt determination settle inside him that he would give her the life she deserved. For as long as she had been alive, she had been shunned, in hiding, and destitute. Amira had once expressed a desire to just be able to live, a wish expressed in a safehouse on the run. Now, as far as he was concerned, she was home, and Damian would support that wish in any and every way he could.
Step one was decimating the Grey Hawk Gang. And if she wanted to be at his side through that, so be it.
As he continued to run his fingers across the smooth curves atop him, Amira slowly stirred. But just as her eyelids started to flutter, she suddenly gasped before going rigid as her eyes flared with bright white light.
“Shit!”
Damian immediately pulled his hands from her, but she was already sucked into the vision. He was aware that their bodies were still melded together, but decided to wait it out in hopes that like last night, she would only have the singular vision.
After a few seconds, Amira’s breaths sped up again and she blinked heavily as the glow in her eyes settled to allow her usual pale blue to reign once more. Slowly, she pulled her outstretched arm towards her, then seemed to realise she was dragging it across a surface she wasn’t expecting. She blinked a few more times as she gazed across his chest, then at last she lifted her head to stare owlishly at Damian instead.
“Damian?” Her voice was rough, whether it was post-vision or merely with sleep, Damian couldn’t tell.
“Are you alright?” He asked with concern.
She was staring at him with more than a little shock, as if she too couldn’t quite believe she was here. “I thought last night was a dream,” She breathed.
“No…”
Damian hesitated to say more, suddenly unsure if the stunned look on Amira’s face was good or not. But her startled expression suddenly broke through into a smile, and the familiar brightness of it eased the growing tension to Damian’s shoulders.
“Even if it was, it would have been a very good dream,” She admitted.
Damian couldn’t help his resulting satisfied smirk at her words. But he quickly sobered, “Sorry, I triggered a vision.”
“I noticed,” Amira said dryly, but didn’t build on what that vision had been. “Shall we try again?”
He realised what she was asking as she held a hand towards him, palm out. She looked nervous, but much less so than last night. Damian hoped like hell that the vast majority of their skin still touching meant they were in the clear, and pressed his own palm against Amira’s.
Nothing. Pale blue eyes stayed locked onto his.
The relief was astounding, and they both smiled at each other.
“So… it triggers again as you wake?” He inquired.
“Or mornings?” Amira offered.
Damian hummed and laid his head back onto the pillows as his mind started turning over the options. Tim had been right about loopholes, now they just needed testing.
“I wonder if it works off time, or maybe sunrise?” He mused, “Would that change depending on where you are across time zones? Or if it’s off sleep I wonder if naps will count? Perhaps even daylight savings would change – “
Lips against his immediately stole his attention and effectively put all thoughts to an absolute stop. They were soft and warm and full, and held the same hint of vanilla her smell carried. Amira pulled slowly back with breathless chuckle.
“We have time to figure it out,” She said.
The verbal assurance that everything that was said last night was certain, solid, and going to continue eased a tightness in Damian’s chest he hadn’t realised was there until that moment. This time his smile was open and unrestrained.
“Sounds good to me.”
Their lips met again, and this time the kiss was slow and burning. Amira’s hands moved up to twist her fingers gently through his hair, and Damian found he didn’t mind the sensation. His own hands smoothed over and down Amira’s back, and she moved so she was now straddling his lap.
It was no desperate coming together like last night, but a much more gentle and thoughtful learning of the other. A second greeting, and a silent agreement that nothing had disappeared in the morning light. Damian let himself relax into the sensations Amira brought with her, delighting in her taste and softness as he forgot time itself existed.
It took a long time for them to finally part again, and it was Amira that pulled away first. She sat up atop his waist, breaths ragged and lips plump and bruised. But it was her expression as she looked down on him that brought Damian up short.
It wasn’t until he saw the burning eyes and heavy lids as she looked down at him through her lashes that he realised just how many times he had seen that same desire before. Fuck he was an idiot. Just how long had they been ignoring what was so clearly between them?
Now he was making up for lost time.
Bright green eyes met pale blue as Damian reached up a hand to drag a palm up the back of Amira’s neck to run it through and tangle it in her hair. He caught the way her breath hitched when he touched her, and he marvelled at the level of trust she was putting in him. Damian had barely experienced physical contact with other people in his life, certainly it had minimally been with care, and never before for intimacy. But for Amira, who had simply never experienced touch, he couldn’t imagine how this must feel, or how overwhelming it must be.
Amira suddenly grinned down at him, “You’re thinking too hard.”
Damian huffed lightly and rolled his eyes. Her smile only grew on seeing it and she dropped back down to lay across his chest once again. It was an achingly casual and familiar movement, and Damian swallowed hard at the open trust in it.
“Inti jamila, Habibi.”
Amira jerked her head back up from his chest and stared at him, a stunned sile crossing her face as he spoke in Arabic to her. Beautiful, he had called her. Her surprise was obvious, and he didn’t miss the flash of sadness in her eyes with it. When was the last time she had heard her native language?
But she leaned in close, and her warm breath brushed against his ear.
“Min ʾaǧlika ʾalfu marraẗin ʾuḫrā,” She whispered.
For you, a thousand more times.
She dropped her head again and conversation fizzled out. Damian found he didn’t mind the closeness one bit, even craved it, and he wound his arms around her out of instinct alone.
A satisfied sigh breezed across his bare chest.
“This is nice,” Amira whispered. Damian wasn’t sure he could put into words just how nice this was, so he merely held her tighter, and Amira seemed to understand.
For a long time they lay in silence, just enjoying the closeness they had at last realised they were able to have with the other. But as his body settled, Damian’s mind started to move to other matters.
What happened now? The last time he had spoken with her, Amira hadn’t seemed convinced that she would want to stay here. He didn’t want this to be a one-time thing, and he didn’t think the way he felt about Amira would lessen either. What if she didn’t want to stay at Wayne Manor? Would she expect him to leave his home if he wanted to stay at her side?
Because Damian realised… he would.
“What is it?”
Damian almost smiled. He wasn’t quite sure what gave away his impending questions, but Amira always seemed to know anyway. His concern about what the answer might be kept the expression from his face however, and he had to take a breath before finally asking.
“Do you think you would want to stay here?”
Amira didn’t hesitate.
“Of course I want to, Damian. I just…”
Her immediate affirmation soothed Damian, and so he settled back to wait as Amira gathered the rest of her thoughts to explain.
“I feel so out of place here,” She whispered at last, the vulnerability clear in her wavering voice, “What have I done to deserve a life like this? I come from nothing, why do I get to live in a mansion and not have to worry about anything for the rest of my life?”
Damian frowned, chest aching on hearing how little Amira thought of herself despite how obviously incredible she was.
“Amira, apart from Bruce himself, everyone here has come from some form of nothing,” He pointed out. He held her a little tighter as he continued.
“Dick was an orphaned circus boy. Jason was picked up stealing the tyres off the Batmobile in Crime Alley. Tim’s parents were abusive, Steph is the daughter of a supervillain, and Cass has a couple of master assassins as her parents,” Damian shrugged, “Arguably, I might be born into this, but even I was raised as a killer – I can’t even count the number of people I’ve murdered in cold blood. I never even hesitated – “
Damian choked off a bit at that, the familiar self-hatred surging and stealing his words for a moment. But Amira noticed the catch and pushed herself up so that her eyes could search his. Damian was stunned to see only a gentle understanding there. There was no reproach, no hatred, no fear. Only a shining warmth as she saw him.
For the first time in his life, Damian found it easy to move past the feeling. He took a deep breath in and tried again as it settled.
“None of us should be here, but yet here we all are. It might not be the life we were born to, but we deserve better. You deserve better, Amira.”
He saw that she wasn’t yet convinced. And so Damian dug deep into himself, and spoke words he never thought he could say.
“Before you came into my life, all I knew was Robin. Training, drills, patrols, missions. There was no emotion there, no enjoyment of anything.” He remembered well spending every day in monotony. There was little reason to anything. He did what he did because he was Damian Wayne, and Damian Wayne would follow in his father’s footsteps. “I have been fighting all my life, protecting people and doing whatever I could to keep Gotham safe. Every single day. What I didn’t know was that I was doing it for you.”
His voice turned rough as he continued, the words falling from his mouth now without pause. Damian now spoke from the deepest part of his soul. But it was so important to him that Amira knew why he wanted her here, at his side.
“I didn’t know that one day it would all be worth it. That I would soon be sent the most infuriating, perplexing, complicated, and precious gift.”
Amira was staring at him with wide eyes, breaths shallow as she drank in every word. As he paused, she drew in a shaky breath.
“I am no gift, Damian.”
“You are my gift, my treasure,” He assured her, and brushed his fingers across her jaw. “I would re-live all these years of loneliness a thousand times over if I knew I had you waiting for me at the end of them.”
To his surprise, a small smile broke through the stunned look on Amira’s face.
“I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say at once,” She teased quietly.
He huffed at her, but was unable to find any real irritation to go with it.
“It probably is,” He admitted with a grumble, “It doesn’t change that you deserve to be here as much as any one of us, Amira. Truly, what’s mine is now yours. So if you want to stay, then consider this home.”
Lips surged forward to press firmly against his, and Damian relaxed into the clarity of the subtle vanilla of her taste. Eventually Amira pulled back again, breathless.
“That was so cute.”
Damian felt his expression pull down into one of disgust, “Cute?” He echoed incredulously, “I am not cute. I am the Robin of Gotham. Villains everywhere tremble…”
Amira grinned at him again. “Yes, yes,” She assured, “You’re very scary.” And then she kissed him again, but she was laughing against his lips as she did so. After a while she pulled back again, and her blue eyes grew serious.
“You mean so much to me, Damian,” Her voice shook with the depth of her feeling, “I’ve never felt like I could trust so absolutely, and I’ve never had anyone care to know me so well. I feel like the entire world could be against me, and as long as I have you on my side, I wouldn’t have a care in the world.”
“I’d fight them for you,” Damian said seriously.
A smirk flashed across her face, “I don’t doubt that.” But then she grew unsure again, her eyes glinting with worry as she asked quietly, “Do you want me to stay?”
Damian didn’t hesitate. “I want you to stay,” He confirmed earnestly.
There was no other word for it, Amira’s expression turned blindingly joyful.
“Then I will.”
Damian met her brilliant smile with one of his own, and for the first time that he could remember, he felt simply, blissfully happy.
“But I want to move into your room,” Amira said suddenly. Damian chuckled; he hadn’t missed her clear preference of his quarters.
“I don’t think that will be a problem,” He said, already mentally planning the move for later in the day.
Later in the day. Damian glanced aside to the bedside clock in sudden realisation, only to see it was midday already. He stared at the time, almost sure it had to be wrong. He never stayed in bed this late unless he’d been on patrol.
“Shit, I think we slept right through breakfast.”
Amira just laughed, “I’m sure Alfred won’t mind.” There was a glint in her eyes that suggested there was more to her pointed comment than he realised. He narrowed his eyes at her.
“What do you know that I don’t?”
She winked at him, “More than you’re comfortable with, I suspect.”
Damian shook his head. He supposed this would have to be something to become familiar with. He expected to be waking up with Amira every morning like this from here on out, and no doubt that would come with a vision starring him each morning. While he still had no want to hear of his future, getting teasing remarks about things outside of his knowledge was an easy price to pay for Amira herself.
“Well, shall we?” Amira asked, arching an eyebrow.
A sigh heaved from deep within him, “I guess so.”
“Now you’re upset?” Amira seemed confused at just how disgruntled his tone was.
“The family is going to have a field day with this,” Damian muttered, “Dick, Jason, and Tim even staged an intervention yesterday.”
To his surprise, Amira went pale.
“Oh Gods, so did the girls,” She stared at him with nothing less than terror, “I’m going to have to talk with Steph.”
“About…”
“Birth control.” Amira actually shuddered as she said the words. Damian barked out a short laugh.
“That makes my mind up – we’re definitely going to lunch.”
The glare that was then turned onto Damian was truly impressive. Maybe she’d picked something up from being around him these last months.
With a last, lingering kiss as they parted, Damian headed back to his quarters to shower and change. He almost didn’t want to, as it removed the lingering scent of vanilla on his skin. But he met Amira just as she was coming out of her room minutes later, and he was quick to pull her close and duck his head so he could kiss her soundly once more. He made sure to drag his hands up Amira’s neck, revelling in the fact he could finally touch her skin.
Lifting his head at last to see the blue eyes on him were looking positively dazed after the searing kiss, Damian smirked. He could definitely get used to this. He held her gaze as he took Amira’s hand, and only looked away when he felt a small furry body start curling around his legs.
Amira looked down as he did and smiled to see her familiar winding its way around them both and purring loudly. As Damian paused, Ryuu clawed up his clothing to finally settle on its newly preferred perch atop his shoulder. The familiar continued to purr so heavily that its little body vibrated where it draped over him.
The hurt is resolved, Ryuu rumbled, unmistakably pleased. Seer and Robin are happy.
Amira reached out to scratch Ryuu’s head with a smile, “Yes, Ryuu, we’re finally together.”
Amira suddenly startled and whipped around to stare down the corridor. Damian immediately flanked her in reaction to her obvious alarm, one hand moving to her waist and the other to a hidden dagger, ready for action. But he saw nothing.
“Oh my Gods,” Amira was quickly relaxing, and when Damian glanced aside at her, it was to see her rolling her eyes as she blushed.
“Tell me you didn’t see – “ Her demand cut off with a worsening of her blush, “Yes, yes you did promise – “ She paused again before snapping, “Well I don’t know how soundproof these walls are!”
Damian pulled his hand from his dagger when he realised it was just the ghosts. He really should be used to the one-sided conversations by now. Amira turned back around to him, grumbling.
“They’re laughing at me,” She complained.
Damian raised an eyebrow, “Were they expecting this?”
Amira sent a dirty look to one side, glaring at something he couldn’t see. “Only since day one,” She muttered. Damian’s smirk returned.
As they approached the lounge that everyone preferred to take lunch in, Damian heard the murmurs of many voices. He deflated a little. He knew it would have been too much to hope that the family wouldn’t have noticed that himself and Amira were AWOL for breakfast. Of course, they were here now to see what the verdict had been.
Amira sent him a knowing look when his shoulders slumped, but took his hand again before they pushed the lounge doors open.
The lounge was full. Every damn member of the family was there, even Barbara, who wasn’t usually around for lunches. On their entrance, all chatter stopped as heads turned their way. Damian knew they would first see that he and Amira stood shoulder to shoulder, then he watched as all eyes flicked down to narrow in on their intertwined hands.
Damian winced at the wild cheer that went up.
“Yes, I fucking knew it!” The loudest shriek came from Stephanie, who leapt up from her seat to punch at the air. Barbara gave a clap from where she sat across from her, smiling as widely as Cassandra did at her side.
Congratulations.
Cass was the only one Damian bothered to acknowledge with a small nod.
Stephanie’s squealing was loud enough that Tim flinched, and it roused him from his slumped position on one couch to open his eyes and look towards the door.
“About time,” He muttered, and his eyes closed again. Damian wondered if his adopted brother even noticed the small trail of drool that came from one side of his mouth. He suspected not, because he heard a soft snore from him the moment he closed his eyes again. Somehow, the coffee he held on his lap stayed perfectly still.
Dick sat across from Jason, both of them looking up from paperwork they still held in their hands. While Dick was grinning ear to ear, Jason sat back into his chair with a wide smirk. His eyes flicked from their conjoined hands up to Amira’s blushing face.
“So do we start calling you little sister now, or…?”
Damian threw the nearest pillow at his face, but it was unfortunately dodged.
Bruce sat on an armchair in a corner with Alfred at his side, they both read from the newspaper he had open. But as Damian and Amira stepped inside, Bruce placed the paper aside.
“Time to get out the adoption papers!” Steph sang.
Bruce almost looked abashed, and Damian was willing to bet his father already had them drawn up – ready for the first hint that Amira wanted to make this more official. He made a show of rolling his eyes and muttered, “Well, only if she wants to.”
At his side, Amira looked stunned. Damian wondered if she hadn’t realised just how accepted she already was within his family. But then, Bruce continued.
“Welcome to the family, Amira,” He smirked a little, “Again.”
Amira huffed with some humour, “Thanks, Bruce.”
Bruce exchanged a significant yet pleased look with Alfred, then both men buried themselves in discussion about the paper once more. Damian narrowed his eyes in their direction, realising after that pointed comment that there had likely been more to Bruce and Amira’s recent conversation than just an offer of lodgings.
Steph had made her way over to them in this time and was quick to drag Amira from Damian’s grip. At his grunt of annoyance, she poked her tongue out at him.
“Sorry Damian,” She didn’t sound sorry, “You’ll get to hog her time even more now. So it’s girl time when we can.”
Grumbling under his breath, Damian let Amira go and went to sit next to Dick, making sure to glare across at a still smirking Jason as he did so. But as he sat, Dick leaned in close.
“Congrats, Little D,” Dick murmured, still grinning, “Knew you could do it.”
“Eventually,” Damian muttered. He wasn’t unaware that it had taken a big push from his brothers to get him into the right headspace to finally take the leap of faith.
Dick just shook his head, saying easily, “It was only a matter of time. I’m so proud of you.”
Damian jerked his gaze up to meet that of his eldest brother – and in many instances growing up – his second father figure. All he saw shining in the blue eyes across from him was a glowing pride, a deep happiness, and a true genuineness to his words. Dick was happy for him.
Swallowing hard, Damian nodded to him, hoping like hell that the small motion could convey everything he didn’t have the words to say. Dick smiled wider and reached out to briefly squeeze his shoulder. He understood.
On his other shoulder, Ryuu purred harder.
A loud and abrasive voice broke up their little moment.
“So I’ll take my twenty now, Dickhead.” Jason said, looking sly. But Dick turned around to Jason and sat back casually into his own chair, looking unruffled.
“Oh no,” He countered, “You’ll find you’re the one paying up.”
But Jason sat forward and wagged an agitated finger at him, “That wasn’t the deal. The deal was he wouldn’t figure it out unless he loses her first.”
Dick just arched an eyebrow.
“Leaves, was the word,” He specified. “She didn’t leave.”
Jason was looking more irritated now, “She did die,” He pointed out, “Surely that counts as – “
“What is this?”
Both men visibly cringed at the fury in Damian’s voice. He stared between both of his brothers with quickly rising anger as he began to realise just what they were arguing about.
Dick winced as he turned to see Damian glaring daggers at him, “Now Dami…”
Jason jumped in, apparently not caring to beat around the bush. “We’ve had a bet for over a month now that you wouldn’t figure out you liked Amira until she left,” He declared, “And you didn’t until she had died, so that counts.”
“Dying is not leaving, Jay.” Dick took up the argument once more. Across the room, Damian saw Cass was now nodding her head in obvious agreement.
“I would argue the effect of a sudden, severe loss is the same.” Tim sat upright in his chair just long enough to give his opinion before slumping over once more, immediately out to it again. A pulse of agreement came from the familiar on Damian’s shoulder, and he stared down at Ryuu, incensed that it would join in.
Steph was shaking her head, “No, no, no. Dying is far more traumatic. If she’d just left it would have been completely different.”
“But for the sake of the bet, it’s the same!” Jason jumped back in, agitated and turning in his chair to argue across the room.
“You two bet on Amira’s death?” Damian was fuming, seeing red as he glared around at every person in that room. He noted Bruce glance over the top of his paper towards him. Apparently deciding he wasn’t at the point of physical violence just yet, his father retreated again.
“No!” Dick protested from his side at the same time as Jason snapped,
“Yes!”
Babara, who had stayed thoughtfully silent until now, spoke calmly enough that she gained everyone’s attention.
“Well, what does Amira think?”
All heads swivelled around to look at Amira, only to find she was clutching at her stomach and laughing so hard that she was completely silent and had tears streaming down her cheeks. As they watched, she shook so hard with laughter that she fell right out of her chair.
Jason grinned across at Dick.
“I’ll take that twenty now.”
Chapter 31: Threat
Notes:
I hope you enjoyed the emotional constipation finally being pushed aside!
But it's back to the real world for our pair! And it just got a little bit darker...
Take care ♥️♥️
Chapter Text
DAMIAN
Damian was taking Amira back out into Gotham City, and he hated himself for it.
He wanted her back at the Manor where it was safe, where she was surrounded by security and thick walls and family that would put her safety first. But she had all but demanded to come out, and he had agreed that he wouldn’t confine her. He still didn’t have to be happy about it though.
Thankfully, both Cass and Tim had come out with them. It seemed no one in the family was willing to allow Amira out of the Manor without significant protection after… last time.
The four of them made their way across the rooftops in the industrial district after leaving his and Cass’ bikes in an alleyway some streets away. They moved slower than they ever would usually, but concessions had to be made for Amira. To her credit, she moved swiftly and kept up well for the most part, only pausing at the edges of buildings too far away for a simple jump. For these she turned to Damian, and he would pull her in tight against him to grapple them across the gap.
It still made his skin burn to have her close, despite the simpleness of the touch. But the fire wasn’t bad. It was a burn of craving, of want; a burn that reminded him of how immeasurably lucky he was to be able to touch her now. Amira still buried her face in his chest every time he swung them across a building, clearly having little love for heights, but there was no hesitation at all when she reached for him each time.
As usual, her complete trust humbled him.
The four of them came to a silent stop at the edge of one building as they finally approached their target. Damian narrowed his eyes as he took it in carefully.
A multi-storey office building, abandoned but not yet run down. It had been marked as a flagged location by one of their many encountered ghosts, Cass and Jason had searched it and found nothing untoward some weeks prior. But when the grouped vigilantes had stood before a map of Gotham tonight discussing where to patrol, a small hand had reached out to point unwaveringly at this spot.
Amira had stood attentively through his lecture about being as safe as possible, saying nothing but at least giving the impression of someone vaguely listening. Damian had been aware of Bruce’s small smile as he stood to one side listening in. The irony wasn’t lost on either of them that he was lecturing someone who’s safety depended on him, while he had no idea whether they were actually taking what he said on board. No doubt Bruce was thinking back to the days when Damian had first come to him, and listened intently to instructions only to disobey him at every turn.
Amira had at least stuck close to his side, and her gloved hand brushed up against his now. Perhaps it was a small gesture of comfort. For which one of them, he wasn’t sure.
“Light.”
Cass’ small voice caught their attention, and they followed her pointing finger to see there was indeed a small glow of light coming from deep within the building.
Damian pulled out binoculars at the same time Cass did, while Tim was fiddling with the keyboard and laser display on his wrist.
“There’s eight heat signatures in there,” Tim relayed, “All gathered in the centre of the building. Six more elsewhere, including around the entrance. Likely guards.”
Damian hummed as he thought and trained his binoculars on the entrance. Sure enough, he could see two men skulking around the doorway at the bottom of the building, looking far more conspicuous than they likely thought they did.
“Ryuu.”
Amira’s murmur had each of them glancing back to see a small blackbird take off from her shoulder and fly towards the building. Damian felt the familiar’s pleasure as a small hum in the back of his mind, Ryuu was excited to hunt.
“Is it going to tip them off?” The muttered question was Tim’s. Damian shot him a sharp look, but Cass bet him to it with a punch to the arm.
Dragon, remember?
Tim shuddered. “This is a stealth mission.”
“Ryuu knows how to be discreet,” Amira assured.
Tim glanced back to Damian as if to confirm her words, and he gave a short nod of affirmation, but tempered it with a glare so his brother knew his question wasn’t appreciated. Tim rolled his eyes and looked back to his wrist.
It is definitely the Grey Hawks, Cass signed as one of the guards inside came into better view, dressed in the dark grey military style they now knew so well.
“Interesting choice of building,” Damian mused, “Although I can see how it would be the last place we would think to look without guidance.”
“You’re welcome.” Amira grinned up at him at his side, and so he sent her a frown that for whatever reason, made her smile wider.
Stephanie and Cassandra had pulled together and repaired an old Orphan costume for Amira to wear tonight, refusing to let her out in anything unarmoured. It was mostly black with the yellow highlights Orphan was known for, but Amira had left the hood off and instead borrowed a black domino mask, letting her hair flow free.
“They would still know I’m the Deathweaver,” Amira had said when Damian had passed her the mask, “They already know what I look like.”
“But if we encounter anyone who doesn’t yet know what you look like, they won’t learn.” Amira had still looked unsure, so Damian pushed a little harder. “Humour me.”
He had to admit, he did feel a little better knowing Amira wore at least some armour and a mask, even if it was light. Maybe he would frown a little less at Stephanie for the next few days. Cass always got off light.
A rumble through his mind suddenly caught his attention.
It is a meeting, not yet started, Ryuu relayed, Eighth floor. Guards on eight and further down, but not up.
Damian smirked. Thanks, Ryuu. Then aloud, “We’ve got an opening. They’re guarding down but not up. If we go in via the roof and stay on the ninth floor we shouldn’t encounter any guards at all.”
Cass shook her head in distaste. Rookies.
But Tim was staring at Damian. “How do you know? Even I’m struggling to see where the heat signatures are so deep into the building.”
“Ryuu can speak to us,” It was Amira who replied, “My familiar is relaying from inside.”
Tim blinked owlishly, “To both of you?”
“Born of necessity,” Damian said shortly. “Let’s go.”
He opened an arm out as he pulled out his grapple gun with the other, and Amira stepped straight into it, her arms circling his neck tightly as her face turned into him. By the time Damian got them up onto the roof of the office building, Tim and Cass were already there.
As Amira stepped away from him, Cass pointed to a service door leading inside. Tim grinned and stepped back with a small flourish to let Damian pass.
“All yours, Little D. I’ve disabled the alarms.”
It took Damian five seconds to pick the lock – slow for him – and then they were in. They crept down the stairwell, met partway by a small black kitten that turned and led them further. Damian noted Tim and Cass both glancing sideways at Amira as she moved, perhaps surprised or even unnerved by the silence with which she moved and the way the shadows shifted and moulded around her, helping to hide her from sight and sound.
They slowed and stayed far more careful as they got down to the tenth then ninth floor. Ryuu shifted again and slipped ahead of them to confirm the way was clear. Once that confirmation came, the four of them slipped out onto the ninth floor.
Tim was watching his wrist display again.
“If we go down this corridor we’ll end up right on top of them,” He said quietly.
Amira’s head tilted in confusion, “What’s the point of being a floor above? We can’t see or hear them.”
Tim just smiled and Cass patted her arm with no doubt a small smile of her own. They soon entered a long room littered with divisions, as if it had once had lines of desks and chairs down it that had since been removed. Damian stood back and watched from the sidelines, canvassing the nearby corridors and rooms in case they had to make a quick exit.
“Ryuu, stand guard.”
The familiar darted off.
Amira left his side to follow Tim at a respectable distance, watching in interest as he started setting up equipment on the carpeted floor. With a miniature satellite dish, complete with flashing lights and a small speaker that plugged in, the electronic device appeared ancient. Damian knew better than to tease about its ability to work.
“This will listen into their conversation,” Tim explained to the obviously curious woman hovering behind him, “Even through the floor and wiring between us, we should hear them quite clearly.”
He flipped a couple of small switches on the side of it, turned the sound right down, and looked up at all of them.
“Here we go.”
A button was pressed, then Tim slowly turned the sound up until they could all listen in to the unfamiliar male voices that filled the room.
“Why are we meeting here?” A voice asked, sounding annoyed.
“The Bats are hitting all our warehouses,” Someone else explained, “They won’t expect us here.”
Another voice joined in, sounding far more nervous than the others, “What about the Deathweaver?”
“What about her?” The second voice scoffed, “She hasn’t been seen since Jack shot her, she’s probably dead. They don’t know we’re here.”
Damian felt sick to his stomach at the reminder and could help his gaze jerking up to meet Amira’s. She was already looking at him, but to his surprise she smiled and signed,
More fool them.
Cass chuckled. The nervous one spoke up again.
“Slater doesn’t think she’s dead though, and now Arkham’s got wind of her.”
Every one of them froze and their breaths stopped at the mention of the notorious asylum that held the worst of Gotham’s villains. Arkham was what? Damian felt like the air had been sucked out of the room and his vision tunnelled in on Amira’s shocked expression. He took a few steps towards her out of instinct alone as dread began to curl inside of him.
“He doesn’t like their interference.” The discussion below continued, unaware of the unwitting bomb of information they had just let drop. “If people like the Joker or Penguin get out, they have the resources to comb the city for her before Slater can get his hands on her.”
Damian could see the fear start to stiffen Amira’s limbs as her breaths came faster, and he could feel the horror of the situation starting to creep in on him as well. The likes of the Penguin and the Joker were now aware of Amira?
“The Deathweaver is nice to have,” One man declared, “But we don’t need her to rule Gotham.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Someone spat, “If the Joker wants her, he will get her. With someone like her on his side that clown could rule the goddamn world.”
“What about Scarecrow?”
“What about him?”
“He’s out of Arkham,” This person paused for a moment, “You reckon he’ll go for the Deathweaver?”
“That weirdo’s smart, I’ll give him that,” Someone mused, “If he knows about her I expect he’ll already be racing Slater to his prize.”
“Enough.” Cass’ voice cut through their frozen states of horror. Tim reflectively reached out to turn down the sound.
“Get her out of here, Damian. We’ll stay,” Tim said, his severe expression betraying just how serious he suddenly was. “Gotham has just become far more dangerous.”
Damian was already at Amira’s side and wrapping an arm tightly around her waist. Even before Tim had finished speaking, he was starting to drag her bodily from the room. They had to go now. There was no longer only the threat of Carbine Slater and the Grey Hawk Gang hanging over her, but potentially every villain in Gotham trying to race them to the Deathweaver.
To Amira.
“Ryuu!” He hissed as he passed the small shadow that was the familiar in the hallway. “We’re going, now.”
The small kitten gave a tiny growl as it fell into step, but Damian could feel through their bond that it was merely reacting to his and Amira’s overwhelming alarm.
What has happened?
“We have more enemies; they are hunting for her.”
“Let go of me, Damian,” Amira struggled in his grip, starting to come out of her shock, “We’ll move faster if I can run.”
He let go of her, giving her a moment to find her feet, and then they were off, racing as quietly as they could back up the thankfully empty staircase. As soon as they made it onto the roof they ran towards the edge where Amira paused. Damian simply scooped her up and jumped. She muffled her scream quickly by burying her face into his armour, and her hands gripped tightly onto his arms.
They hustled across the rooftops and back to his motorbike. As soon as Damian felt Amira’s arms encircle his waist he was off, pushing hard through the traffic to get onto the motorways. Behind him, he could feel the body pressed hard against his was trembling, but he knew it was from fear rather than cold. It was almost as if he could feel the enemies behind them, already watching, chasing, and far too close for comfort.
Damian pushed the bike faster and brought his wrist to his mouth.
“Father, Amira and myself are coming back to the cave.”
“What happened?” Bruce’s voice was quick to demand, “Are you injured?” He had been tracking their progress from the Batcomputer. No doubt he could see that Damian’s bike was making a beeline for the cave at a great rate of knots.
“We are unharmed.”
There was a short pause as Damian only half-answered, but Bruce had always been quick on the uptake. “Very well. Tim called Jason to come and escort you back. He will be with you shortly.”
Sure enough, another bike soon roared up beside them. He felt Amira jerk and gasp at the sudden appearance of another so close.
“It’s Todd!” He called back. The arms around his waist just tightened.
Damian nodded to his brother, and the Red Hood nodded back before falling slightly behind them as he followed them all the way back to the Batcave. They soon roared into the cave and skidded to a halt.
Jason helped Amira off from behind him and Damian quickly dismounted after her to begin pacing nearby. He pulled his mask off in agitation and dragged a hand through his hair as his mind raced, considering the massive escalation to the threat against the woman he was charged to protect. Ryuu flew in behind them and immediately morphed to a panther to begin prowling around the edges of the cave and growling low, a pattern of behaviour Damian now recognised meant the familiar was unsettled. Bruce and Stephanie approached quickly from one side.
“Damian,” His father’s deep voice rumbled across the space. Even though he was in a suit, clearly not long back from Wayne Industries, when he was serious or worried his tone would contain some of Batman’s gravel. “What’s going on?”
Damian paused in place but didn’t turn to face his father, hating the words he was about to say out loud and the consequences that could come with them.
“Arkham knows about her.”
Bruce stiffened and his eyes widened imperceptibly. Beside him, Stephanie gasped.
“The Joker knows about her.” Damian snarled as if the others might have not realised what this meant. He started pacing again as his hands fisted. “Scarecrow is already out and looking for her. Every fucking villain in Gotham now knows about the Deathweaver and will be after her. If any major player gets out of Arkham there won’t be anywhere to – “
“Damian.”
It was the quietness of Jason’s interruption that actually got through to him. Glancing aside to his brother with a glare only to see him point off to the side, Damian turned again to take in Amira.
He was well versed in turning worry and concern into anger that would force him on and into action, but Amira… she was all fear. She stood off to the side with domino mask now off and arms tightly crossed. She stared blankly at the floor as she gnawed at one lip. She was still trembling.
Glancing back to where Jason had now joined Stephanie’s side, they both started silently but fervently mimicking for him to put his arms around her. Steph silently yelling ‘hug her! Hug her!’.
With a frown, Damian looked back to Amira where she stood silently and shook, then back to his siblings. Steph drove home the hug by throwing herself at Jason and hugging him so tightly he choked mid-way through agitatedly shooing him on.
Damian now looked to his father, because his siblings had led him astray far too often to count. Bruce was at least less likely to do so. His father gave him a small nod of encouragement and the severe expression on his face eased ever so slightly. Good enough.
Hesitant and unsure, Damian crossed towards Amira.
Prior to coming to Gotham, he had been able to count on one hand how many hugs he had ever received. Of course, some members of the Wayne family were overly affectionate, so Damian had since endured many. But giving hugs was still something exceedingly rare, and it had certainly never been to a woman he cared for like Amira.
Coming to a stop in front of her, Damian carefully folded her into his arms. At first she stiffened, and he thought he must have done the wrong thing, but then she let out a long sigh and slumped into him, laying her head on his chest as the tension drained from her posture. Damian had to admit, it was a relief for him also to have her so close and be able to feel her every breath, proof that Amira was alive and well despite the danger she was in.
Looking back over to his family, he saw Steph jumping around and silently punching the air in celebration while Jason smirked at her side. Bruce wasn’t smiling, exactly, but the pinched expression he usually wore had relaxed as he looked over them both. But he soon stiffened again and strode across to the Batcomputer, all business once more.
“The Grey Hawk leader we captured and gave to Gotham PD was recently convicted,” Bruce said as he accessed the police departments archives, “It’s not impossible he was briefly held in Arkham until they found space for him elsewhere.”
Jason quickly lost the grin and crossed his arms, “Giving him time to squeal about just what the Grey Hawks are looking so hard for… fuck!”
Steph was now twisting her hands together as she gazed between everyone in the room.
“What do we do? If Scarecrow is already looking for her, there won’t be many places that are safe in the city,” She glanced towards Amira and bit her lip, “And if another of the bigger villains gets out…”
Damian’s arms tightened around Amira. He didn’t want to think about the insane amount of danger she was now in outside of the Manor’s walls. The thought that he had taken her into Gotham tonight while blissfully unaware of the severity of the threat made goosebumps raise on his skin.
But another sigh brushed out against his chest before Amira pulled away from him. He looked down to meet her eyes and was stunned to see the fear had been replaced by a shining determination.
“I have a plan.”
AMIRA
“Thank you so much for coming, Zatanna.”
“I have to admit, your request piqued my curiosity.”
The sorceress had arrived at the Batcave the next day and now stood in a loose grouping with some of the other vigilantes.
Steph, Cass and Dick had grouped around yourself and Damian as you met her. Tim and Bruce worked at the Batcomputer, sifting through information and theories as to possible whereabouts of Carbine Slater. Although they were turned away from the larger group, they were no doubt still listening. Alfred had made his way down as well and was setting up a small table of biscuits and tea in one corner. Any guest was an excuse to entertain, it seemed, and Jason was already there and only too happy to be the first to dig in.
On hearing your plan, Bruce had reluctantly agreed to see if your idea would work. Each person in the cave now, excluding Damian who was so much more used to your power, was looking uneasy. That excluded the two ghosts present, who were looking positively giddy.
Steph was shifting from foot to foot as she peered over at what Zatanna held.
“They’re not going to be zombies though, right?”
Zatanna carefully unwrapped a silk cloth from around the item in her grip.
“Our goal is to make a spirit whole, or at least dense enough to have form,” She smiled at Steph, “There will be no rotting bodies involved.”
Jason was looking less convinced, perhaps why he remained standing by Alfred’s food instead of coming any closer.
“The dead are still rising,” He pointed out, “That’s zombie enough for me.”
Dick smirked back at his brother, “That’s rich, coming from you.”
Now Jason moved closer, and everyone saw the punch coming a mile off. Dick ducked aside with a laugh and swung one of his own, which Jason then caught and jerked at to try to force Dick into a headlock. But the gymnast twisted out of it and snuck one of his legs behind Jason’s, sending them both tumbling to the floor. Cass jumped out of their way with a giggle.
“Boys!”
Bruce hadn’t even looked over, but his barked warning broke off the fight before it went any further. You were pretty sure Jason snuck in another swift punch to Dick’s ribs as he got up, but his brother was laughing too hard to retaliate.
A small sigh came from your side, and you glanced up to see Damian shaking his head at their antics.
Steph continued like nothing had happened.
“So they will be kind of like zombies?”
“Not real zombies,” Zatanna tried to reassure her, also paying no attention to the men rolling around on the floor, “They will lose their form again as soon as Amira stops concentrating.”
“Okay…” Steph did look a little better at knowing you had control over how long they stuck around for. “So we can stand down on being terrified of legends again. No zombies, no vampires, no werewolves, no boogeymen – “
“Boogeymen are real,” You corrected, and every head in the cave snapped around to look at you in mild horror.
“What?” It was Damian who at last demanded more. You blinked up at him.
“They’re derived from boggarts, or evil spirits that used to walk the Earth,” You explained.
Tim swallowed hard from over by the computer, now having turned to stare at you.
“How… how do you know that?”
“Ryuu has fought them.”
Everyone now turned to look at the small kitten that until now had been leisurely draped over Damian’s shoulder. At the attention, the familiar looked up, amber eyes glowing with amusement.
Poor Steph was looking pale, “Boogeymen are real?” She whispered.
You shrugged, feeling a little guilty now as you saw the disconcertion from around you, “They haven’t been seen for many centuries, they are believed to have been wiped out.”
Damian was staring between you and the familiar on his shoulder as he echoed your words, “Believed to have been wiped out?”
It was left to Bruce to pull the group out of their stunned realisation as he said firmly, “Moving on.”
Zatanna shuddered but continued, “Right, of course.” Having fully unwrapped her parcel, she passed it to you.
A small jade amulet sat in your palm, it was smooth and unmarked, but you could feel the power humming from it. The magic was warm, clearly a product of Zatanna, but had an undercurrent of something dark and jagged. She had been helped by another sorcerer you hadn’t yet met.
You turned it over in your hands, getting familiar with the feel of the smooth jade, “So how does it work?”
“Firstly, it must be against your skin,” She explained, “Secondly, I’ve already imbedded the correct magic spells which should do what we want, but it must be activated with a phrase.”
“Which is?”
Zatanna reached out to take the amulet from you and hand it across to Damian, clearly unwilling to have it activated early. Damian turned it over in his hands also, but made no reaction to the magic he held but could not feel.
“Repeat after me,” Zatanna directed, “Sana quod abiit, mortuos permitte reviviscere.”
“Sana quod abiit, mortuos permitte reviviscere.” You repeated it multiple more times under your breath to ensure you had it memorised. “It’s Latin? What does it mean?”
“Make whole what is gone, allow the dead to live again.”
You huffed, “Right, makes sense.”
For a moment you all stood, looking around each other, each pausing in the face of actually trying to see if your and Zatanna’s combined efforts could allow ghosts to live again. It was Dick that finally led the charge.
“So, we are doing this, right?”
Damian passed you back the amulet, “Yes.” He took a step closer to you, and you recognised the gesture as protective. Damian was no doubt unwilling to allow you out of arms reach should anything go awry. He gave you a small nod as he did so, encouragement.
Do you have ghosts already here to make whole? Cass signed.
“Yes,” You signed as you answered, “Damian will finally get to meet some old friends.” You grinned at him as surprise lit his eyes.
“Elizabeth and Carol?”
The two women standing to the side smiled widely at being indirectly addressed and Elizabeth gripped at one of Carol’s arms in excitement.
“We’ll be real again!” She whispered to her.
“Not real,” Carol allowed, but even she was looking excited, “But close enough.”
You smiled at both of them before looking back to the amulet in your hands.
“Alright, here goes.”
Sinking into your power, you concentrated on the ghosts before you. Elizabeth and Carol both stiffened as they saw your eyes begin to glow and felt the coolness of your power brush over them, but they stayed still. The others in the cave no doubt felt the temperature dip as well, and more than one of them leaned slightly away. Over by the Batcomputer, Bruce and Tim now turned fully your way to watch.
Damian stayed steady at your side and didn’t move an inch.
Taking a breath, you spoke the words Zatanna had given you, “Sana quod abiit, mortuos permitte reviviscere.”
The amulet in your hands glowed, and the words you had spoken appeared in shining lettering around the edges as you felt your power surge.
“Holy shit!” Steph’s exclamation made you look up.
As you had planned, the two woman that had once been invisible and intangible as ghosts now stood in front of everyone, visible and just as solid as the vigilantes dotted around the cave were. Everyone’s gaze zeroed in on them, stunned to see them despite knowing what you had intended.
Elizabeth and Carol both shrunk in on each other a little, perhaps unnerved by the intensity of the attention suddenly on them. But it was Damian who eventually moved first, holding a hand out towards them in offer.
“You must be Elizabeth,” He said to the older woman, and then to the younger, “And Carol. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.”
The others in the cave were stunned, not only at Damian’s cordial greeting, but that he had bothered to offer his hand with it. It was a level of respect he didn’t offer many people at all. You were less surprised by it, knowing that Damian was aware just how much the pair had helped and supported you over the past months. For all intents and purposes, the four of you were friends.
Elizabeth was the first to reach out and shake his hand. Her smile was genuine, but you didn’t miss the way her hand trembled slightly as she was able to touch another human for the first time in centuries.
“The pleasure is mine,” She said warmly.
Elizabeth moved aside for Carol, who blushed slightly as she shook Damian’s hand. “Hello.”
The pair came to you next, and you wasted no time in enveloping them both in a tight hug. They held you just as tight. A hand came to rest on and stroke your hair.
“My dear,” Elizabeth’s voice shook, “It is so good to hold you at last.”
Carol was clutching tight to one of your arms, “Thank you, Amira. This is truly a gift.”
Both women pulled back to smile at you, and you had the impression they would be teary eyed if their forms allowed for it. Your own eyes were suspiciously misty, but you grinned back at them.
“Well, why don’t you meet everyone at last?” You offered, “It’ll test how far my magic is likely to extend.”
Elizabeth patted your cheek before moving away, and Carol trailed after her.
A hand threading through yours drew your attention back to the man at your side, and you smiled up at Damian. He gazed down at you with pride in his eyes.
“You did it.”
“I did,” You echoed with a quick squeeze of his hand, before looking back towards the pair moving hesitantly further out into the cave, “Now we just have to see how long it lasts.”
Zatanna drew a little nearer as she watched the ghosts start to be surrounded by the other vigilantes who were eyeing them with interest.
“Are you having to concentrate much?” She asked.
“Yes and no,” You tilted your head as you tried to figure out just how much power you were using to keep the amulet active, “I’m not necessarily having to concentrate on the ghosts themselves, but I can feel that I’m expending power.”
“How long do you think you can hold it?”
“For these two, probably a couple of hours. If it was a larger group though, it would be only a few minutes.”
Zatanna looked at you in obvious surprise, “Hours? Are you sure?”
“Reasonably,” You nodded, “Why’s that?”
“You… have quite a reservoir of magic at your disposal.” Her blue eyes took you in silently for a long moment before changing the subject. “It could be worth making the amulet into a necklace, that way you’re not having to hold onto it the whole time to keep it against your skin.”
“I’ll get Tim onto that once he’s exhausted his curiosity.” Damian said, gesturing across at his brother who was circling Carol with interest and peppering her with questions while Steph and Cass poked at her arm curiously.
“Can you feel anything?” Tim was asking, actually writing down notes as he circled her, “Obviously you can touch solid objects, I wonder if you can interact with other things like water or air. Does this mean you can be injured? Does your form have to be maintained or will it stay the way it is? Hmm… if something were to change while whole does it carry to your ghost form?”
Meanwhile, Elizabeth had made her way to the table Alfred had set and had picked up a cup of tea to sip at it. She was warily watched by Jason as she exclaimed with relish,
“I can’t taste a thing, or even tell if it’s hot! But it is so nice just to have a cup of tea in my hands once more.”
She took another sip and sighed happily. Alfred looked pleased at her side and began to engage her in conversation about her prior preferences.
Dick and Bruce had now made their way over to you and paused in front of the still glowing amulet you held to look it over carefully.
“I suspect this means your plans for the creation of an army of spirits would work,” Bruce rumbled. “But it will be for nothing if we cannot find the headquarters of the Grey Hawks.”
“It’s only a matter of time,” Dick said, positive as always. “We’re getting closer by the day.”
“Time is no longer on our side,” Damian folded his arms as his frown deepened, pulling his hand from yours. “If the larger villains get out of Arkham they may well disassemble the Grey Hawks for us to get to the Deathweaver.”
“Would that be a bad thing?” You couldn’t help but ask, “The Grey Hawks don’t know where I am.”
Damian physically winced, and you were taken aback on seeing it.
“There is another complication,” He said at length, and his jaw worked as he spoke, clueing you on to his rising frustration.
Oh no. You weren’t going to like this. “Which is?”
“Your identity.” Damian sighed sharply and glanced down at you with eyes full of guilt. “When you… were shot, I admit keeping your name from the surrounding mobsters wasn’t a priority.”
You blinked at him, “I – I heard you call my name.” It had been one of the only things you could remember before everything faded to black in your memory. It was far from unlikely that no one had heard the panicked yell of your name.
Bruce was frowning at Damian as he thought, and the narrowed eyes glanced aside to the kitten on his son’s shoulder.
“The familiar massacred everyone in that building,” He pointed out, not sounding happy about it.
A purr rumbled out from the kitten as a jolt of satisfaction did, and the inhuman amber gaze held Bruce’s easily as it was glared at.
“What if one got away? What if there was surveillance?” Damian asked rhetorically, drawing their attention away from the small stand-off. “It’s played on my mind enough that I asked Cass to go back and check the building for cameras.”
Dick seemed to realise where this was going, and he cursed as he dragged a hand through his hair.
“Ah, shit…”
Horror pricked at your spine as the repercussions of such knowledge started to hit you.
“The Grey Hawk’s know my name?” You whispered. It was Dick who reached out to briefly rest a reassuring hand on your shoulder.
“Your first name, maybe,” His eyes cut towards Damian, “But we don’t know who saw those tapes.”
Damian hummed in thoughtful agreement, “The gang members at the meeting yesterday certainly didn’t know it.”
“We know Slater is one to keep his cards close to his chest,” Bruce pointed out, “There’s a chance that Amira’s name and identity is not yet common knowledge.”
You stared at him with slightly wild eyes. Sure, maybe some of the lower players didn’t know who you were, but if even one person knew it could be passed on to some of the larger villains of Gotham. And if they knew not just your description, but your name, there would be nowhere to hide.
“But,” You swallowed, “If Arkham is after him -”
“The concern is that they learn not only the extent of her powers from them, but also her identity,” Damian interrupted to sum up, “We must get to Slater before them to figure out just how much he knows.”
You took a step closer to him as his voice dropped to a growl, hoping to ease his obvious worry and reassure yourself at the same time.
“I understand your concern, Damian,” Bruce turned to him. “But there is a possibility for that information to get out anyway. We must have contingencies for it, but not act recklessly because of it.”
“We have been lucky so far,” Dick pointed out. “None of the gang members we have captured have known that information. Even the man from his inner circle that was in Arkham only knew about Amira’s powers and title, not her name.”
Damian wasn’t pacified and leaned forwards in agitation. “If the Scarecrow has already got to him, he could easily coerce such information from Slater.”
Dick kept his posture carefully casual, not allowing a physical response to Damian’s increasing aggression. “Then hopefully Slater is as smart as he’s been given credit for and will know to keep his distance,” He said calmly.
You laid a hand on Damian’s arm, and with a grunt, he pulled back and took a breath to calm himself. After some of his tension had eased, he muttered, “Either way, it will still take time to find Slater’s location.”
Shifting the amulet in your grasp and ensuring you still had a strong hold over your powers, you looked up to him.
“I… have an idea about that.”
Now Damian turned to look down at you, eyes narrowed in a distinctly suspicious look, no doubt wondering just what scheme you had cooking away. But it was Bruce who spoke with a small nod in your direction.
“Let’s hear it.”
You took a breath, knowing Damian wasn’t going to like this.
“You take me out into Gotham and – “
“No.”
Yup, he interrupted before you had even spoken a full sentence. You saw Dick smother a grin across from you.
“You didn’t even hear – “
“No, Amira.” Damian interrupted your protest as well, looking angry. “We’re not using you as bait.” He arched an eyebrow as you stayed silent, “That’s where you were going with that, yes?”
You sighed and tried again.
“They want me, Damian,” You pointed out. “If the Grey Hawk’s get a hold of me, chances are they’ll take me through to Slater.” You turned to Bruce and Dick, knowing if you could convince them, they could in turn help you convince Damian. “So hide a tracker on me and then we’ll know exactly where he is. I can unleash the ghost army right in the middle of their headquarters.”
But neither of them were looking particularly convinced. Dick in particular looked pained, and his eyes flicked towards the glowering man at your side.
“There’s a lot of variables in that plan,” He murmured.
“What if they don’t take you to Slater?” Damian spoke up again. His tone sounded demanding and irritated, but you could see the glint of memories haunting his blazing eyes, “What if you come against yet another person that decides you’re better off dead like last time? It’s too dangerous, Amira.”
“But – “
“Damian is right.” To your surprise, it was Bruce that stepped in. He met your eyes, not flinching at all despite the continued glowing white of your irises. “It’s a dangerous plan. You are a part of this family now, and we don’t sacrifice people here. We will find another way.”
With a tiny nod towards you and Damian, Bruce turned and walked away. As you deflated, Dick stepped forward and patted your arm.
“We’re not risking you, Amira.” He smiled kindly down at you, “But don’t worry, we’ll figure something out.”
As he also left, Damian turned to you after letting out another long breath. He picked up one of your hands again and rubbed a thumb over your knuckles, calming you both with the contact.
“I know you’re trying to help,” He said quietly, “But I – we – aren’t going to let you take that chance.”
“Okay,” You sighed, “Okay, I get it.”
You thought the plan was a decent one, but you had to agree it would be risky. You remembered just how close you had come to death when the last member of the Grey Hawks you had come face to face with had decided he was willing to disobey Slater’s order to keep you alive. Seeing the relief on Damian’s face as you agreed not to look further into your plan let you know he remembered it just as well as you did.
But you still couldn’t quite give it up. With the threat of both the Grey Hawks and potentially every villain in Gotham now breathing down your neck, you felt the desperate need to do something.
“But just… keep it in mind, as a last resort.”
Damian stiffened as you whispered the words to him, pleading that he didn’t write you off as an option just yet. He stared at you for a long time, working at his jaw he thought his way through it. At last, there was a jerky nod your way.
He then lifted the hand he held to his mouth, holding your gaze as he brushed his lips across your knuckles, eyes full of unspoken but burning intensity. You shivered, understanding the silent and desperate need to feel you were close. You knew that if Damian looked at you like that while asking you to drop your half-formed plan, you would have no choice but to give in.
A small meow gained your attention and you both looked to Ryuu, still draped over Damian’s shoulder. Following your familiar’s gaze, you saw Carol was starting to look particularly overwhelmed by the continued questions from Tim and Steph while Cass continued to circle and poke at her.
With an annoyed huff, Damian dropped your hand only to brush a hand over your jaw in farewell before leaving your side to try and head off his family. Zatanna now took a step closer from where she had watched silently during your exchange, mouth quirked in a small smile.
“I admit, it is nice to see him like this,” She said.
You glanced aside at her, mind still short-circuiting from Damian’s touch.
“What do you mean?”
Zatanna reached your side and you followed her gaze to watch Damian stalk across the space towards his family. “Damian has always been standoffish and angry, even with his own family.” She smiled, “It’s good to see him care so openly for someone.”
You now turned to stare at Zatanna as some things fell into place, and when she finally looked back at you, her small smile turned to a smirk
“You thought this might happen,” You realised.
“Destiny demands it,” She echoed familiar words, “That was what you said when you first saw him. I guessed fate might have been pulling you together for a reason.”
You huffed in some amusement and shook your head, “Then you saw fate’s design far more clearly than either of us did.”
“An educated guess, I assure you,” Zatanna grinned before becoming more conversational. “You must come by the House of Mystery sometime,” She offered, “I think you would find it very interesting, and I believe both John and the House would enjoy meeting you.”
“John Constantine?” You smiled as you recognised the name. The sorcerer had a fearsome reputation, not only for his magic, but for his excessively prickly personality. “I see fate had a design for you as well.”
Zatanna shrugged, “Fate fights hard when she wants something.”
You laughed again, looking back over to the vigilante glowering at his siblings as he tore into them for being poor hosts, a small glaring kitten perched on his shoulder.
“Yes, she does.”
Chapter 32: Waiting Games
Notes:
We are coming to the end of this adventure, and this is the calm before the final storm! So here's some fun and fluff before things get serious <3
*Yes I added another chapter, this one ended up being way too long so I've cut it into two:)
Thank you all for the continued support, love and comments, it's amazing to see so many of you coming back chapter by chapter!
Take care! xx
Chapter Text
DAMIAN
Amira had been able to keep the ghosts whole for three hours.
It allowed Elizabeth and Carol plenty of time to enjoy being ‘alive again’. And once they stopped being so over the top in their curiosity, the vigilantes began to enjoy the extra company.
Alfred soon herded everyone upstairs and into one of the private sitting rooms. He then disappeared into the kitchen to prepare and serve some more food, which got Elizabeth excited enough that he allowed her to follow and assist him in serving the rest of the group. The elderly pair ended up sitting in plush chairs across from each other and comparing the differences in their personal recipes and how ingredients had changed over the years.
Damian had to admit, it was strange to see the obviously elderly woman move so swiftly and without the slight unsteady shuffle Alfred had to his gait. But he was pleased that Alfred seemed to enjoy his talk with the nineteenth century woman. Ryuu had curled up and was now asleep on her lap, and although Elizabeth stated she couldn’t feel its purring, she seemed content to pet the small kitten anyway.
After Tim had gathered enough information to begin forming theories and opinions, he had retreated to one side of the room to watch the ghosts like a hawk as he muttered over his notes and sipped at a coffee. Cass had made her way over to him at some point, apparently willing to let herself be the sounding board for his endless hypotheses.
Steph and Jason had engaged Carol in intense conversation about books and TV shows, but when Steph found out that Carol was as invested in Grey’s Anatomy as she was, they almost didn’t pause their incessant chattering to breathe. This annoyed Jason enough that he had draped himself over a different couch and buried his nose in a book instead.
Bruce himself had retreated to a large desk to make his way quietly through some paperwork. But Damian had noted his pen pause for long periods more than once as his father no doubt listened in and carefully assessed the two new additions to the Manor.
Well, new? Maybe not. But new to most in the room, even Damian.
He had to admit it was strange to put faces to the names that Amira had said so often in their safehouses. They had once almost seemed like a figment of her imagination since he could never hope to see them. But Amira’s idea to ask Zatanna if there was any way to make them whole had resulted in finally being able to see and talk to them. It was undeniably strange to finally come face to face with two dead woman who had been haunting the places he inhabited for the past months.
Zatanna had stuck around, pulling Damian aside while Amira was busy speaking with Elizabeth and Alfred.
“I know you only trust me because your father does,” She began, “But I would like to stay for now and keep watch over Amira.” She glanced aside at the woman, who was in casual conversation with no visible strain despite the magic she was expelling. “She says she can keep this up for hours, but that would require a truly considerable amount of magic.”
Damian eyed Zatanna carefully, but realised she was being genuine in her concern. He turned away and crossed his arms, deciding now could be a good time to probe the sorceress for gaps in his information.
“Do you know how powerful she is?”
Perhaps Zatanna could give him some sort of indication of just where Amira sat in terms of power levels compared to other magic wielders. He knew she was powerful, but Zatanna should give him some idea of what Amira was truly capable of.
“I can’t get a good read on it,” Zatanna admitted, much to his surprise. She seemed to note his confused glance and explained further. “Usually, a sorceress’ magical signature will give me some sort of indication to her power level, but she’s hiding it somehow. Even when she sought me out at my show, I could tell it wasn’t in full force.”
She looked up at Damian, and he tensed when he saw the seriousness of her expression.
“There are not many sorcerers in the world with the sort of power needed to smother their signature so completely, let alone all the time,” She murmured. “Her abilities alone set her up as a significantly powerful being, but I wonder if we have any idea just how powerful she really is.”
Unease began to curl through Damian’s stomach, and he looked out again to where Amira laughed at something Alfred had said.
“If the scope of her powers become common knowledge, will she be a target?” He asked.
Zatanna hesitated. “There are many magical beings that seek more power,” She said carefully, “Both in this world and out. People like Constantine, Dr Fate, and myself have become targets too many times to count.”
“I see.”
Yes, was the answer, a big target. Perhaps it was a blessing that Amira had learned to smother her signature so completely. If other beings had been able to sense her power as she grew up, Damian wasn’t so sure if she would have made her way to him at all. Still, if Amira’s power became common knowledge now, there may be many new threats starting to take shape against her.
Zatanna seemed to follow his train of thoughts, and smiled slightly.
“Take heart, Damian. If she’s as powerful as I think she is, she would present a significant challenge to any that come after her. And there are not many that have the Batman and his posse to protect them.” She paused for a moment before continuing more slowly, shifting in place, “Amira is young and may not understand the scope of what she has at her disposal. I have extended an offer to see the House of Mystery.”
Damian grimaced in distaste. Just who the House belonged to was common knowledge among the world of monsters and magic.
“With Constantine?”
Zatanna smiled wider on seeing his reaction, “It would be necessary if she wishes to be tested.”
Damian sent her a sharp look, “I will make sure she knows what she is in for, should she accept your invitation.”
But her reply was calm, “I would expect nothing less.”
Zatanna walked away to join Carol and the others around her, leaving him with much to think about.
Amira found him some minutes later sitting atop a beanbag with a cup of coffee and a deeper frown that usual. Her eyes still glowed a churning, milky white as she continued to use her power, and the room had a slight chill to it despite the heaters being turned right up.
“Everything alright?” She asked, dragging up another beanbag beside him and settling into it.
Damian made an effort to smooth the expression from his face. It was made all the easier when Amira shuffled her beanbag closer so she could press her shoulder to his.
“Fine,” He replied, “How are you?”
She knew what he was asking. “Okay, it’s been long enough now that it’s taking slightly more effort, but I’m still feeling good. It’s…” She tilted her head as she thought it through, and her raven hair brushed over Damian’s collar. “It’s almost like I’m doing exercise, but something mild, like an energetic walk.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, “Don’t push too hard, we know what overuse of your power will do.”
Amira merely rolled her eyes at him, “Of course I’m going to push, I need to know how long I can hold this.” But she glanced up at him with a smile bright enough to throw off any chill he might have previously felt, “But I’m not going to overdo it, promise.”
Damian just grunted. He would be the judge of that, and if he thought Amira was pushing too hard, he would be ending this little experiment. Amira smiled wider, as if she somehow knew what his grunt had meant, and rested her head on his shoulder.
He watched carefully over the first hour as she conversed with the others to little change. By the second hour, Damian could tell she was starting to get fatigued and was having to concentrate more carefully on her abilities. She began to retreat into herself as the second hour drew to a close, no longer able to maintain conversation without the two new additions going slightly more transparent than they should.
Part way through the third hour, Amira had to lean against Damian and close her eyes to keep up the continued glow of the amulet still held securely in her grip. Only when a teacup slipped past Elizabeth’s hands to shatter on the ground, did she finally give up despite her obvious fatigue.
“Sorry,” Amira gasped, and managed to solidify the ghosts long enough for them to say their goodbyes before she finally let go.
She slumped into him, and Damian wound his arms around her to pull her close, worried the prolonged use of her power might cause the mild hypothermia he had previously seen when she was overworked. But Amira was still warm, and with the halting of her power the room temperature rose. When she blinked her heavy eyes open again, he saw with relief they were back to their usual stunning blue.
It would have been alarming to see Elizabeth and Carol suddenly disappear from the room if he hadn’t of known why, but Damian could see the others were also sure they would see the pair again.
Amira’s eyes fluttered closed again.
“I’m beat,” She muttered.
“That was an impressive showing, Amira,” Zatanna came closer to look over the amulet, seeming pleased with whatever she saw. “But now you should rest.”
The sorceress’ gaze flicked across to where Bruce sat, and Damian didn’t miss the significant look that passed between them. After his earlier conversation with Zatanna, it didn’t take much for Damian to guess that she thought it had been a very impressive showing.
It was a conversation for him and his father to have another day.
“I’ll take you to bed,” He murmured to Amira. Sliding his hands underneath her, he lifted the small woman to his chest.
“I can walk,” She protested.
“I know.”
He strode from the room as muffled laughter sounded from Steph, and he was followed quickly by a gently purring Ryuu.
Proud, The familiar’s voice rumbled through his head as they made their way down the corridors.
“Thank you, Ryuu,” Amira said, a smile in her voice. Then she answered something Damian didn’t hear, “You’re very welcome. I told you both everyone would like you.”
“Is that the ghosts?” Damian asked. Amira hummed an affirmation into his chest.
“They were shy at the idea of actually meeting everyone.”
“Well I think Stephanie would be glad for another deep dive into the relationship triangles of Grey’s Anatomy.” Damian huffed, and Amira snorted as he continued, “And I don’t think Alfred has talked that long to anyone in quite some time.”
“Is that a blush?” Amira’s demand to one side was in reaction to something he didn’t see. “It was!” There was a pause and then she got defensive. “After all the matchmaking comments you two forced on me, I’ll be damned if I don’t give it back!”
Damian couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him as he smirked down at the suddenly very embarrassed looking woman in his arms.
“Now this I need to hear.”
AMIRA
Baking was always something you could fall back on when your mind wouldn’t quiet. It was undemanding, structured, and definitive. You could lose yourself in the step-by-step instructions, your only demand to make sure each measurement was exact, and you enjoyed the simple art of making something new with your own hands.
Cooking was similar, and you found it calming to relax back into familiar smells and tastes, trusting your process with little more than experience and instinct guiding your hand.
It had been many nights now that you had found yourself in the extensive kitchen of the Manor in the early hours of the morning. Particularly when Damian was out on patrol, you missed the warmth and security that came with his presence. It had been all too easy to get used to sleeping curled against his solid frame, and you noticed when he was gone. Instead of tossing and turning alone, you sought comfort elsewhere.
You had been apologetic at first when your arrival in the kitchen disturbed Alfred’s own downtime. The first time you had made an appearance, the elderly butler had been obviously surprised, as he almost spilled his tea as he placed it down quickly.
But after an awkward explanation of why you couldn’t sleep, Alfred had been more than happy to share his space. And after a few nights of you absently pottering around the kitchen, attempting dish after dish from your childhood, it hadn’t been long before Alfred quietly asked if he might help.
Tonight you worked on a meal that would be set out for breakfast when the vigilantes got back from patrol later on in the morning; Ta’ameya with eggs, cheese, and Aish Baladi flatbread.
Next to you, Alfred worked on an easy dessert – Umm Ali. He read from a printed recipe you had found for him online and seemed content to move slowly through each step, apparently enjoying the process as much as you did.
He seemed truly happy to have someone that enjoyed cooking as much as himself working alongside him, and you often joined him to make dinners now. Alfred had requested you teach him more dishes from your heritage, and likewise you enjoyed learning dishes from the many different cuisines he had already mastered.
Tonight, as the smell of baking flatbread wound its way around the kitchen, a third person ducked into the room. Green eyes were somewhat dulled from sleep and his black hair was dishevelled, but Damian’s expression was drawn into a deep frown of concern and confusion as he found you working in the kitchen at nearly 3am.
“What are you doing here?” His question was blunt and gruff, matching his aggrieved expression. But you couldn’t help smiling on seeing it, knowing the irritation was merely a front for his fatigue and concern.
Damian had a rare night off tonight, but you had found yourself staring up at the ceiling for hours as your mind wound itself in anxious circles while he slept. So you had carefully pulled yourself from his relaxed embrace to make your way to the kitchen, continuing a pattern you had held since finding out that the villains of Gotham knew of and hunted you.
“Baking,” You answered Damian’s direct question, yet ignored the deeper concern in his expression. It was a conversation for when you were alone.
You made sure to smile his way, an attempt at reassurance. “Would you like to join us?”
His eyes narrowed slightly, not missing your careful deflection of his true question, but he nodded all the same and moved further into the kitchen.
“Pennyworth,” He nodded Alfred’s way in greeting as he muffled a yawn.
The butler’s eyes crinkled fondly, “Good morning, Master Damian.”
Alfred turned back to his dessert, and Damian wandered across to the sink. He pushed up his sleeves and began washing his hands as he glanced over to see what you were doing.
“What are we making?”
We. It had been a simple change to sentences involving you, but Damian had made an effort to solidify and show that you were now together. And with every small use of words like ‘we’ and ‘us’, he proved to you again that he had meant every word of his declaration a week earlier.
Your lips tilted upwards as you glanced his way.
“I’ve just finished up the flatbread and Ta’ameya,” You said as you placed the last of the Aish Baladi aside to cool. “I was going to make Foul Mudammas next.”
You saw the flare of delight in Damian’s eyes as he recognised the first dish you had made for him. He stepped into the space at your side and listened intently as you quietly directed him around the kitchen for the ingredients. As you worked together you fell into a familiar rhythm. While this kitchen was certainly much bigger than those in your safehouses, he had helped you cook enough times that this felt easy and domestic.
While previously you had both kept a careful distance from each other, you both now had no qualms of brushing against the other as you moved, leaning over the other to add things to the dish, or taking the others hand to guide them. It had been a week now since you had both moved past the unspoken fears that had kept you apart, but every small touch still had your heart leaping into your throat and caused butterflies to flutter in your belly.
It was enjoyable to now be so much closer to Damian, both physically and otherwise. It felt like barriers had truly fallen and now you could just exist in the others life without worry and without fear of the separation that had seemed inevitable just weeks prior.
It made moments like these all the more pleasant and relaxing, and it was nice to be able to find comfort in something as simple as inhabiting the same space.
“Those go in after it’s baked.”
Damian’s voice suddenly breaking the silence startled you from your musings. Both you and Alfred looked up to see he was directing his attention to the final handful of raisins Alfred was about to sprinkle over the top of the Umm Ali.
“Pardon me?”
Damian frowned at the offending hand hovering over the dessert.
“The raisins, they go on the top afterwards.”
Alfred blinked, clearly surprised that Damian was telling him what to do.
“But the recipe – “
Damian picked up the paper to run his eyes quickly over it and scoff.
“Is wrong,” He tossed it back on the counter, “They will turn to charcoal if you put them in now.”
With no further comment, he turned back to mashing the fava beans you continued to season around him. Alfred glanced your way with a raised eyebrow, and you gave a small nod, grinning as you realised Damian really was taking your lessons on board.
“Very well,” The butler placed down the last of the raisins in a small, separate container instead. “Far be it for me to question one who has clearly made this before.”
While his tone was mild as he placed the Umm Ali in the oven without the raisins on top, you noted the small smile not quite hidden behind his white moustache. Alfred was pleased at the thought this was far from the first time you and Damian had cooked together – as if the easy familiarity between you both working around each other didn’t give it away.
“In that case,” Alfred made a show of glancing at his watch, “If you are likely to be up much longer, perhaps you could time the cook on the dish? I think it is past time for me to turn in.”
You smiled across at the elderly man, knowing he was discreetly allowing you time alone with Damian.
“Of course, thanks Alfred.”
He laid a hand of farewell carefully on your shoulder as he passed on his way out, doing the same to Damian.
“Goodnight, you two.”
“Goodnight, Alfred.”
A grunt and nod from Damian served as his own farewell, and then you both fell into silence once more.
You moved with familiarity around the other, and you did your best to settle into the feeling of security Damian provided, again paying close attention to the dish you were creating in order to escape your own thoughts.
You had no doubt that Damian noticed your deliberate preoccupation, but he didn’t say anything until after the meal was bubbling away on the stove and you could both step away.
He silently made you both hot drinks as you sat down at the kitchen table, and it wasn’t until yours was placed before you that you realised it wasn’t the coffee he usually made.
“Karkade?” You recognised the deep red liquid with amazement.
“With sugar,” Damian confirmed as he sat with his own cup, “Though I wasn’t sure how much you preferred.”
You inhaled the sweet yet tart fragrance of the hibiscus tea, before taking a trial sip. He had guessed faultlessly the amount of sweetness you liked in the drink, and you didn’t find that you were surprised by that.
You smiled across at him, delighted at your first taste of karkade since coming to Gotham.
“It’s perfect.”
Damian nodded slightly, but you could see his expression relax ever so slightly, as if he were pleased by the comment.
You took another sip of tea and closed your eyes as you sighed happily, “I didn’t realise this was in the cupboards.” You certainly would have made this for yourself previously if you had seen it.
Your eyes opened again to see Damian shift slightly in his chair.
“It wasn’t, until recently.”
Despite deliberately looking elsewhere, he couldn’t hide from your searching gaze that silently demanded an explanation. Damian sighed softly and swirled his own tea around the cup.
“I… asked Alfred to find some for you,” His admission was a mutter, “You’ve been stuck here for a long time.”
After spending weeks stuck in the Manor recovering from your injury, you had been greatly looking forward to your foray back into Gotham City. But it had been short lived after finding out about the increased threat against you, and now you were confined again.
Despite your love for Wayne Manor and how large the space was, after months in safehouses beforehand as well, you were quickly becoming restless. You had fallen back on familiar things; meditation on a prayer mat from your home country, endlessly cooking your favourite dishes, even taking over Alfred’s sewing pile so you had something helpful to do.
You weren’t surprised that Damian had noticed you were turning to what you knew for comfort, but you were touched all the same at his silent attempt to help.
“Thank you.”
Damian just shrugged. He still wasn’t used to accepting gratitude. But he swirled his tea again and took a long sip. He kept his gaze carefully levelled at his drink as he asked a question of his own.
“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?”
You almost flinched, but managed to stifle the action at the last moment. You weren’t deluded enough to think that Damian didn’t know there was more to your restlessness than boredom, but you were actively trying to avoid the deeper thoughts that plagued you.
You tried anyway.
“I’m just bored.”
The disbelieving and mildly irritated look Damian turned on you let you know he wouldn’t accept that for an answer for a second. Huffing out a humourless laugh, you look a long sip of your drink in procrastination. When the intense emerald gaze didn’t waver, you at last sighed and put down your drink to admit the truth.
“I’m scared.”
Now frowning, Damian quickly placed his own tea down so he could turn and give you his full attention.
You swallowed hard and looked aside as you decided to dive in. Damian deserved your honesty.
“Ever since I found out that Slater might know my name I just…” Your voice shook, so you trailed off and started again.
“I know that I’m safe here but… What if they all know who I am?” Just the idea was enough to tighten your chest with quickly increasing fear, “Not just the Grey Hawk’s but the villains locked up in Arkham. If they find out my name I can never set foot in Gotham again, I’ll be homeless again.” Distress made you pull back from your drink and you began to twist mindlessly at your hair in agitation. “And – and I just…”
Damian was already up and out of his seat, and strong arms were quick to wind around you and pull you close. You were just as quick to give in, and you let your forehead thud onto his chest as you attempted to even your breaths out. He gave you a few minutes to let your breaths settle. It was only when you had calmed and were limp in his arms did Damian attempt to talk further.
“You know worst case scenarios are my father’s favourite thing to work through,” He began.
You gave a small, shuddering laugh.
“We’ve considered all outcomes,” Damian assured, “We have contingencies for them.”
“I know.” Your voice was small. While you knew they would have backup plans A through Z, it didn’t change the terror that they might have to actually use them.
The arms around you tightened on hearing the anxiety still prevalent in your voice.
“You are safe here in the Manor, Amira,” Damian said, “But if you want, I can take you elsewhere.”
Stunned, you pulled your head off his chest to stare up at him.
“Where?”
“Anywhere.” Damian’s tone was as firm and sure as his expression, “Back to Egypt, or away to disappear in another heavily populated city like Metropolis. I’d even take you across the world to live in the middle of nowhere in bloody Antarctica, if that’s what it takes to make you feel safe.”
You blinked at him, astonished at what he was willing to give up.
“But you – “
“I would stay with you,” Damian interrupted to vow lowly, “No matter what.”
You were disbelieving, “But this is your home.”
“It’s your home too,” He pointed out.
You searched his gaze for several long moments. All you saw was fierce determination mixed with a gentle understanding. You knew that as soon as you and Damian had confessed that you wanted to be with the other, it had all but cemented yourself at his side. He now considered everything that was his to also be yours.
“I don’t want to leave,” You said quietly.
“And you don’t have to,” A warm hand came up to smooth over one of your cheeks, and you leaned into the touch as Damian continued. “Amira, you chose to stay here. I will do whatever it takes to make sure you can stay here in safety. We all will.”
You chewed at your lower lip.
“But if everyone knows who I am – “
“There is no confirmation of that,” Damian cut off your spiralling thoughts once more. “It’s only a matter of time until we have Slater. With him we take down the Grey Hawks, and we make sure your identity is never revealed.”
“What if the villains get loose from Arkham?”
For the first time, you saw a flash of uncertainty cross Damian’s expression before it was repressed.
“We cross that bridge if it comes to it.”
You both knew if the likes of the Joker or the Penguin got out of Arkham and got a hold of your identity from the Grey Hawks, there would be nowhere to hide. They had the resources to tear the city apart for you – the trump card that could gift them the power to truly rule Gotham. The choice of staying in Gotham would no longer be in your hands. If you wanted to stay safe at that point, you would be driven away from the place you had finally chosen as your home.
You sighed heavily.
“I know you all have plans and contingencies, but it doesn’t really change the anxiety and helplessness that comes with just having to wait it out,” You admitted.
Damian frowned at that, and you recognised now that he didn’t really know what to do with that information. You were scared, and until the threat was over, those fears couldn’t be dissipated. As much as Damian wanted to solve your distress, he couldn’t.
“But this helps,” You hugged him a bit tighter and attempted a smile. “And a cup of tea and a hearty meal always cheers me up.”
Your slight smile seemed to cheer him, as his deep frown smoothed somewhat. Perhaps he saw that although he couldn’t completely ease your anxiety, he was helping.
Damian glanced aside to the bubbling mix on the stove, sniffing appreciatively as the spices permeated the air.
“This is the first time I’ve actually cooked Foul Mudammas.”
With a small laugh, you at last pulled away from him and crossed to the meal to give it a stir.
“I know,” You winked back at him. “You seemed thrown when I first offered some to you.”
You smiled as you remembered Damian’s suspicious hesitation at your insistence that he eat your food. The frown disappeared completely as he shook his head at you.
“Apart from the fact that you had cooked for me at all after I was – how did you put it that first day?”
You raised an eyebrow, “An asshole?”
Damian smirked, completely unrepentant.
“Apart from that. It smelt exactly like my mother used to make it.” The smirk died and was replaced by a tiled head and an unreadable expression as he admitted, “It was entirely unexpected.”
“Talia?”
He nodded shortly.
“There weren’t many times I felt her love,” Damian mused quietly, and his tone was now almost… warm. “But the few times she cooked for me was one of them.”
Smiling as you turned off the stove, you then crossed to Damian to kiss him lightly on the nose.
“I’m glad the dish can bring back some happier memories for you.”
The hint of a smile in return played at Damian’s lips, and the brilliant green of his eyes grew brighter.
“And create some newer ones.”
A hand slipped into your hair to pull you close so he could kiss you more fully on the lips. As he pulled back, Damian’s voice was low again and his eyes grew intense.
“I know you’re afraid. But I promise I’ll look after you.”
Breathless from the kiss, you smiled at him.
“And just maybe, I’ll look after you too.”
AMIRA
“Hi Dave.”
“It’s you!”
The heavily tattooed ghost looked surprised to suddenly materialise in front of you, and even more surprised when he recognised who stood before him. His eyes darted off to the side to see Robin waiting not far from you.
Damian had refused to leave your side as you practiced summoning and making whole the larger group of ghosts that had offered to be present at the end of the Grey Hawks. While all the people you were about to bring back were still going to be, for all intents and purposes, dead, he refused to appear to them as Damian Wayne and instead donned his Robin persona.
You partly suspected the decision was a protective one. Although all the ghosts you were about to summon had been summoned before and therefore somewhat vetted, neither of you had forgotten the time a less friendly spirit had attempted to assault you.
So he hovered and watched you carefully, and he had asked that Ryuu sit at your feet. It was a request your familiar had only been too happy to comply with as it sat staring out at the space the ghost occupied, glare fixed despite not being able to see them.
Dave eyed you with both curiosity and hesitance.
“You said you were going to call me back.”
“I did.”
He looked around again, looking confused. “But… where’s Slater?”
You crossed your arms, trying to hide your wince, “We haven’t found him.”
“Yet,” Damian’s determined interruption made you and Dave both glance his way. He couldn’t hear the conversation, but he had obviously inferred the topic.
“I have a plan,” You drew the ghost’s attention back to you. “It’s a bit half-formed,” You admitted, “But I need to practice summoning you all.”
Dave’s eyes went wide, “All?”
You smiled, “Believe it or not, Dave, you’re far from the only ghost that wanted to see the downfall of the Grey Hawks.”
Your words had a deadly grin forming on Dave’s face as well, and he rubbed his hands together gleefully.
“Then we will be in good company,” He said with no shortage of satisfaction, “So what’s the plan? A bunch of ghosts can’t do much.” But then his eyes lit as he grew quickly more animated, “Oh, unless you want us to spy for you? We can spy for you! We could infiltrate just about anywhere! Or maybe we could – “
You put a palm out to stop him before he could really get going.
“I’m glad you’re excited,” You huffed in some amusement, “But the plan is to make you ghosts into my army.”
Dave was entirely lost again, “Huh?”
“I can make you whole again,” You explained.
Awe started to break over his face, and Dave looked you over again in apparent reassessment.
“You… can bring us back to life?”
“No, sorry, not back to life” You were quick to clarify, “Just whole. Solid, y’know? It won’t last forever, but hopefully long enough to help us take down the Grey Hawks.”
“Wow,” Dave blinked a few times as he seemed to take that in. But then he just shrugged, and the grin started to come back. “Okay, I’m in,” He started cracking his knuckles in eager anticipation, “I could use a little payback.”
But suddenly, the grin dropped and he grew suddenly serious.
“Although…”
You arched an eyebrow as Dave started to fidget in place. You didn’t have to wait long before he voiced his question.
“I – I don’t suppose you ever got in contact with my mother?” He asked quietly.
Damian noticed as soon as your attention turned to him and not to the open air before him.
“What?”
“Did Oracle ever check in with Dave’s mum?” You asked.
“Yes, actually.” His eyes flicked towards the ghost, but unable to see it, they landed somewhere just off to Dave’s side. With a narrowed gaze, Damian looked back to you as he reported, “She’s alive and doing well, despite her dementia. The confiscated goods went to Gotham PD, but his mother was put up in Gotham Central Care.”
“Gotham Central?” Dave exclaimed, looking aghast, “But… that’s so expensive!”
“We’ll have it covered, Dave,” You were quick to interject, “I promise.”
Gods knew Bruce had enough money sitting around doing nothing that it could be used to make sure an elderly woman had good quality of life until the end. It was the least you could do for Dave’s help as well, it was his initial wish to see the end of the Grey Hawks that had even put this crazy idea into your head.
At Damian’s words and your promise, Dave appeared to get teary. It was a strange expression to see on a ghost, as they were entirely unable to produce any real tears. He sniffled a little anyway, and his voice was thick as he replied.
“Thank you.”
You gave him a small smile before getting down to business.
“Okay, let’s give this a go.”
It didn’t escape your notice that Damian stepped just a little closer to your side as you accessed your power, but you found it comforting to have his strong presence at your back as you worked. The temperature plummeted as you concentrated, and slowly but surely you recalled each of the many bonds of ghosts that had promised their allegiance at the end, and you pulled them forth.
Chatter quickly grew around you as ghost after ghost joined you in slow succession, quickly filling the large, unused room you had chosen to practice in.
“What the – “
“Where am I?”
“It’s you!”
“Hey! What’s going on?”
“Holy shit it’s Robin!!”
“Dave…” You ground out, struggling to concentrate over the many overlapping voices, “Can you – “
“Yep!” To his credit, Dave was quick to gather the new ghosts around him and begin explaining things so you wouldn’t have to. Soon new ghosts were quickly being caught up by the others, allowing you to finish without being further bothered. It took some time, but eventually you had approximately fifty ghosts standing in front of you.
Damian seemed to notice when you stopped concentrating as much.
“Are they all here?” He asked.
You glanced up at him, and as close as he stood to you, his face was lit up by the bright glowing of your eyes, “Yep.”
He didn’t flinch at all from the radiance, and you silently rejoiced in just how familiar you had become with each other that he could be so unbothered by your strange power. Damian saw the flash of something fond across your face as you looked at him, and for a moment his own expression softened in reply. But then he grew serious again, and you knew he was unwilling to risk showing the depth of your relationship before so many strangers, dead or not.
“Do you want to try the amulet then?” Damian asked, voice carefully flat.
“I want to see if I can pull them to me faster first,” You admitted, “That took how long?”
The answer came promptly, “Fifteen minutes and thirty-two seconds.”
“O- okay,” You hadn’t been expecting so exact an answer, and you had to smother a grin, “Yeah, I want to try again.”
Damian nodded, “We’re unlikely to have that much time in front of Slater.”
“Right,” Your fleeting humour died in the face of the reminder of just why it was so important to be here practicing this. You turned back to the silent crowd of ghosts that watched your exchange, “Sorry, I’m going to try pulling you back and forth a few times for practice.”
The affirmatives came thick and fast.
“That’s fine.”
“I don’t care.”
“Doesn’t bother me.”
“This is the most interesting thing that’s happened in years!”
You were quick to get rid of the overly vocal gathering and sighed in relief as they disappeared. The temperature rose as you stopped concentrating.
“What was that for?” Damian noted your heavy sigh.
“They’re chatty,” You grumbled, and you felt a chuckle at your back as Damian pressed in closer now that you were alone.
“And yet you seem to weather Stephanie’s gossip just fine,” He teased lightly.
You turned so you could glare up at him, but the expression was playful, “Stephanie is just one person. And I like Steph.”
Arms wrapped around you and pulled you close as a smirk started to grow.
“Well I’m glad it’s not just me that doesn’t like crowds.”
You rolled your eyes in response, “You don’t like people? I wouldn’t have guessed.”
Damian’s smirk grew as you pushed up onto your tiptoes, reaching up to pull down on his broad shoulders so that he might bend down enough that you could reach his lips to kiss him. Damian huffed as he complied, but the sound was all amusement that was quickly muffled by your demanding lips. Despite your initiation of the kiss, Damian was quick to dominate it, his fingers curling in your hair so he could turn your head just the way he wanted it for better access to your mouth.
You pulled back at last with a gasp, knowing your cheeks were flaming and your breaths were short and ragged. Gods, the taste of peppermint had never been so sexy.
“Sneaky vigilante,” Your accusation was weak.
Damian’s answering grin was crooked, and roguish enough that it just about stopped your heart. But before you could do anything about it, he physically picked you up and turned you around so your back was once more to him.
“Alright, again.” His order was rough.
It was probably a good thing he did turn you, because otherwise you might have jumped the man, need for practice be damned.
“Okay,” You blew out a breath and tried to re-order your fractured thought process. “Let’s try doing this faster.”
Feeling determined, you decided to try and pull forth multiple ghosts at once. Sinking into your power, you got a feel for multiple bonds, and with a grunt of exertion, you dragged fifteen ghosts into the room at once. They materialised in a group before you, but the immediate blow back of such a surge of power sent the temperature plummeting from cold to well below freezing in a mere second, and the sound of reactively shattering glass made you immediately lose your hold on the ghosts as you turned towards the windows with a gasp.
Your hands flew to your mouth on seeing every window in the room had fractured in its frame. None had fallen out, but all had smashed and were being held in by the rapid expansion of ice within them. As you dropped your hold on your powers the temperature changed again, and every window contracted and at last fell from the frames to tinkle out onto the wooden floors.
Oh, fuck.
Slowly, you turned back to Damian to see he had one arm across his chest, propping up the other so he could hold a fist against his mouth. It was a deceptively casual position, but you could tell he was desperately holding back the grimace his eyes held. Apparently needing the hand over his mouth to physically hold back something negative, it took him several moments before he allowed himself to speak.
“That’s not ideal,” His voice was strained.
Your voice was barely a whisper, “Oops.”
At your feet, Ryuu snuffled and purred haltingly in the closest thing the familiar got to a physical laugh. You were just about to tell the familiar off when you heard footsteps rushing down the hall towards you.
No doubt drawn by the loud sound of shattering glass, Bruce and Selina looked alarmed as they burst through the doors.
“Are you two okay?”
Bruce’s demand cut off as he saw you both stood unharmed near the door. Sharp blue eyes stared between your stricken expression, Damian’s grimace, and the multiple windows now smashed over the floors. Beside him, Selina had to place a hand over her own mouth, but her eyes danced, and you had no doubt the move was to cover laughter rather than dismay.
Slowly, Bruce’s eyebrows were making their way up towards his hairline, but instead of berating you as expected, he merely said,
“Good luck telling Alfred.”
He turned to leave, dragging Selina out with him. As the door closed, you heard feminine laughter echoing down the hall after them.
You turned to Damian in panic as his father’s words registered.
“Alfred is going to kill me!”
He let out a long sigh and rubbed at his forehead. “If he didn’t kill Jon for ruining the lawn, he won’t kill you for a few broken windows.”
“The lecture was an hour long!” Your exclamation was despairing.
Damian glanced back to the windows and winced.
“We’ll tell him together,” He said loyally, “But… maybe we should continue this outside.”
You were both quick to make your escape, silently agreeing that you would tell Alfred later. Ryuu followed you both outside, radiating intense amusement and purring hard the entire way. Both you and Damian sent the familiar unimpressed glares; it only made the small kitten purr louder.
You were quick to start practicing summoning the ghosts again, making sure you were a good distance from any windows this time. When you pulled all the ghosts back, they began looking around in surprise.
Dave was the only one you bothered to pay any attention to, as he quickly seemed to become the spokesperson for the larger group.
“Why are we out here?” He asked.
“I, um, broke things.” On hearing a small snort from Damian, you shot a quick glare behind you before turning back to the ghosts and clapping your hands. “Anyway, let’s try again.”
You ended up being quite glad that you had moved outside, because you ended up needing the cool breeze to keep you going through multiple attempts at pulling the multitude of ghosts back and forth from the afterlife. At the end of it, you were sweating and exhausted, but you had managed to get the time down to just under a minute.
Pulling your hair back into a ponytail to try and get some air across the back of your neck, you turned to Damian as you spoke.
“It’s not as fast as I’d like,” You were disappointed.
“It’ll have to do,” You didn’t miss the way his gaze tracked your movements with interest, but his voice was impressively even, “Even if we only get half of them in there, it could still turn the tide of battle for us.”
“Battle?” Multiple ghosts echoed from behind you.
You grimaced at Damian, and the edge of his lips quirked up.
“Time to make them whole, I guess.” You decided, “Have you got a speech or something planned?”
Damian rolled his eyes at you, and you took that as assent enough. Pulling the amulet out from under your top – having now been made into a necklace as promised – you concentrated all the harder as you pushed your power through the engraved jade.
“Sana quod abiit, mortuos permitte reviviscere.”
As one, every ghost suddenly became solid. To you, there was no discernible difference, but you could tell by the sudden tense set to Damian’s shoulders that he could now see the small crowd that stood before you.
The ghosts stared at each other in wonder, and many reached out to start poking at themselves or others to test just how the spell had worked. The Gods damn chattering quickly started up again, and between fifty people’s stunned yet pleased exclamations, the noise rose up into a calamity of noise.
You physically winced and reached up to rub at your temples, you were tired from concentrating so hard all afternoon, and had a killer headache starting. Thankfully, and perhaps on seeing your obvious cringe, Damian was quick to step forward.
“That’s enough!” His barked order was loud enough that it immediately silenced the formidable group, and each person there turned to stare at Robin, expressions ranging from awed to terrified.
“Listen up,” He glared out at the group with narrowed eyes, and you had to hold back a smile as you recognised the intimidating look that he had once used on you. While it didn’t work on you anymore, it seemed to be doing the job for fifty ghosts that were suddenly physically able to be on the receiving end of his katana.
“You’ve all been called in to help take down the Grey Hawk Gang,” Damian swept on. “It’s likely to involve a fight, and a violent one at that.” He gestured to you, “The Deathweaver can make you whole, but only for the duration of said fight. You can’t feel pain, or much of anything, so whatever weapons they use on you won’t be a problem. Once the gang is taken down, you will return to whatever afterlife you came from.”
Damian suddenly blinked and glanced down to you, effectively sidetracked by his own comment, asking in a quiet aside, “Are there multiple afterlives?”
You just shrugged, now really wasn’t the time to drop that sort of bomb on the man. Damian cleared his throat and started again, shaking off his moment of disconcertion.
“Right. There is to be no killing, and you will not be given weapons.” He smirked suddenly, “But you have the go ahead to beat the Grey Hawks into submission however you like… without killing anyone.”
Some of the ghosts looked disappointed at that, but most were grinning in savage anticipation.
“Those are the conditions,” Damian’s critical gaze swept over the assembled group once more, “Anyone who doesn’t want to be a part of it, speak now.”
Not a word was said. As silence met his words, Damian looked back to you and raised an eyebrow, but his expression was distinctly pleased.
“It looks like you’ve got your army.”
You smiled at him.
But then you heard something that made your blood run cold, and dread raced up your spine. You and Damian froze in place, staring at each other with wide, terrified eyes.
“Master Damian. Mistress Amira.” The sharp voice called, “You are to come inside this instant.”
Alfred had seen the windows.
Chapter 33: The Plan
Notes:
Here we go!
<3
As always, appreciate you all for the kudos and comments! It's amazing to have the feedback:))
Chapter Text
DAMIAN
In the past three weeks, it felt like his life had completely changed, although things remained mostly the same. Damian was having a hard time wrapping his head around the difference he felt to the same daily routine, and it was all down to the bright presence that his every thought now revolved around.
In the mornings, Damian still returned from patrol and went first to the kitchen to make himself a coffee as he always had.
But now he waited before he made that first coffee for dawn to break, because with that dawn came a yawning and messy-haired Amira that stumbled into the room. She always turned a beaming smile his way the moment she saw him, and his day started a little brighter. He could always tell the nights she didn’t sleep, because Damian would be treated to a massive, home-cooked spread of Arabic foods for breakfast instead of cereal. Although always concerned to see Amira so tired, he couldn’t help but enjoy the tastes of home.
After breakfast, Damian still headed back to his room to sleep for a few hours after patrol.
Now, he always went back to a warm, recently vacated bed that held the scent of cool vanilla. When he looked around his rooms, he saw more things than he had ever bothered to decorate his home with before. There were signs that Amira lived with him now – a half-finished pile of sewing, a book laid on a table she was reading, a small collection of cups she kept forgetting to bring back to the kitchen. There were more pictures decorating the flat surfaces too. Some were photos of them and the wider family, some were his paintings that Amira particularly liked and insisted on having up so she could look at them – despite Damain’s protests.
Damian still trained to fatigue each day in the Batcave and in the Manor’s gymnasium.
But those training sessions no longer spanned most of the day. He now made sure to put more time aside to spend with Amira; walking through the gardens, sketching or painting, cooking or baking, or simply reading in each other’s space. Sometimes, when his training sessions did last longer, he would look up to find she had instead made her way to him and had curled up on some nearby cushions with a book.
He still made the rounds each day to feed and spend time with his animals.
Now Amira came with him, pampering and indulging Alfred the cat, Batcow, and Goliath to the point where they were almost more excited to see her than him. Almost – because she was always shadowed by the tiny kitten that was the biggest threat of all of them. Damian often walked around now with Ryuu perched happily on one of his shoulders, apparently liking the height that meant it could look down on most people.
Damian still ducked in and out of Wayne Industries, at times bringing documents back home that needed editing, or needed someone to look them over and sign off if Bruce was occupied.
But his work at his father’s company was unofficially on hold while the Grey Hawk threat was as significant as ever. Him and Bruce were both on the same page: Amira’s safety was Damian’s top priority.
He still went out on patrol, and swinging through Gotham’s dark and dirty streets as Robin was perhaps the one thing that hadn’t changed. He still fought, still investigated, still educated and terrified those that needed it.
But even so, Damian fought harder because he had something to fight for. At the same time he took less risks, because he finally felt he had someone to come home to. And every time he came back with an injury, Amira fussed. Damian would always roll his eyes and grumble but… he had to admit to himself, he enjoyed mattering enough to someone that they might care about each bruise and small cut he came home with.
One of the biggest changes was to his patrol roster. He now had two nights off a week, something he had always been offered but refused because Robin was who he was. But he was also Damian Wayne, and that meant something more to Amira, it meant he had to make time for her.
On the nights he stayed home everything was all new. It came with experimentation and searching touches and heavy breaths in the night. It came with learning how to calm the other when they woke swinging at memories and shadows. It came with the strange new sensation of waking up to someone in bed with him each morning. It came with an understanding that Amira would constantly see visions pertaining to his future, but be forever careful not to display too much knowledge of what that might mean.
It came with learning how to truly care for someone besides himself.
But the changes that came with Amira’s presence in Wayne Manor hadn’t only been isolated to Damian.
It seemed despite never having a family to call her own, Amira was quickly making herself indispensable here. She fitted seamlessly in with all the good humour and unshakable happiness of one that was just desperately pleased to finally have people to love that cared for her in return.
If the past few years had been feeling more and more lonely around the Manor as people drifted further away, the injection of new life now brought them all together again. Damian had been growing used to the cold and melancholy feeling to the place, but now, Wayne Manor seemed as full of life and laughter as he remembered during his earlier years here. Most nights consisted of more than a few extras for dinner each evening, and the many rooms were far more lived in as family ducked constantly in and out.
Family dinners had become easier to tolerate now that Damian had Amira at his side. She was somehow adept at reading not just him, but the others in the room, and she was always skilful in her ability to defuse rising tensions.
As always, Jason enjoyed ruffling feathers, but his efforts were often redirected early with carefully placed comments from Amira. Likewise, she seemed to be able to tell when Bruce was at his grumpiest, and occasionally had a quiet word to Alfred to fix him something more calming than a double-strength coffee. Stephanie’s constant gossip that usually caused Damian’s irritation to bubble until he snapped now had an outlet that listened to and even encouraged it. Cass just seemed pleased to have another person she could talk to, and the two women often fell into silent conversation as they signed rapidly away. Tim seemed to be enjoying the newfound peace to the Manor as much as Damian was, and came over to eat most nights now. Barbara and Jon were frequent guests, and they too seemed to come around more and more often as the number of people frequenting the Manor increased.
Kori seemed tired and pale the first time her and Dick brought Thomas around to the Manor, but she smiled unrestrainedly as she held her son in her arms. Dick never moved far from her side, and his smile was just as bright. While they never seemed to need Amira’s defusing due to their undimmable happiness, she seemed adept at reading just when Thomas’ crying became overwhelming and was quick to offer that someone else took him for a few minutes, causing the new parents to send exhausted smiles of thanks her way.
Even Bruce seemed to enjoy the new addition, often giving small nods when she spoke or defused yet another brewing argument between Jason and whoever his target had been that evening. Damian wondered if his father even realised he was doing it.
Alfred couldn’t stop smiling.
For Damian, it was merely enjoyable to have a hand to hold. He lived for the moments the beaming smile turned to him, or those pale blue eyes flicked his way, or the soft voice called his name. He had to grudgingly admit his brothers had been right, he would have forever regretted letting Amira go.
But as happy and blissful as life had become over the past weeks, it was all the more jarring when the constant, lingering threat came to a sudden, devastating head.
As the family sat around the table, chattering loudly and yelling over one another as they dug into the impressive spread of food before them, they were all suddenly silenced by a blaring tone from each of their phones that made everyone freeze in place.
Damian immediately stilled with the others, feeling like a cold bucket of water had just been thrown over him. He found himself turning away from Amira’s questioning gaze to instead stare at his father, silently pleading that the tone might have been wrong, despite knowing better. For a moment, Bruce stared back, and he caught the flash of sympathy in his father’s icy blue gaze. But then his father was standing and barking orders over the sudden scramble away from the table. Thomas was passed quickly back to Kori, and the infant immediately burst into wailing tears at the sudden commotion. Amira quickly left Damian’s side to help settle him.
“Everyone in uniform and to the Cave,” Bruce’s expression had lost all emotion and his tone turned darker, the Batman was now in his element. “We divvy up the escapees and take them in pairs. Oracle will coordinate teams, no one takes any unnecessary risks but we must be fast about this. The longer we take the more likely they are to go underground – “
When Damian also stood, Bruce’s gaze snapped back to him.
“Stay here, Damian,” The words were nothing less than an order, but his gaze flicked to Amira as he said them, “You will be needed.”
“But – “
Bruce stepped closer and his voice dropped.
“If they somehow find out she’s at the Manor, you need to get her out and across the country.”
“Alfred can – “
“Alfred is old, Damian. I understand you want to join us, but you have other responsibilities now too.” With that, Bruce swept around and strode from the room, stopping only to pause by Kori and Amira to rest a hand briefly on Thomas’ head.
“Be safe.” And then he was gone.
Alfred had made his way into the room, no doubt getting the same alert while pottering in the kitchen. He made his way across to a distressed Kori.
“Come on, Miss. Let me take you both home.”
Amira gave the other woman a careful hug as she said a quick goodbye. She whispered something into Kori’s ear that seemed to settle her slightly, and she sent back a grateful smile before she was whisked from the room by Alfred.
Only then did Amira come back to Damian, but he was quick to see the fear building in her eyes. She paused briefly before him, then opened her arms out slightly. It took Damian a moment to realise she was this time asking for the comfort a hug would bring. But once he did, he was quick to fold her into a tight embrace.
“It’s Arkham, isn’t it?” Amira whispered into his chest, voice shaking.
Damian stiffened, but he couldn’t lie to her, “Yes.”
Amira’s arms tightened around him and they held on tightly for a long minute.
Concern and fury warred against each other inside him, but feeling Amira’s heartbeat against his chest and her warmth through his clothing helped to settle Damian enough that his mind started to work through what was happening, and what options they had left.
Commissioner Gordon and the bats themselves were the only ones that had the power to trigger that alert, and it only meant one thing. Somehow, there had been a mass breakout from Arkham. That meant there were now several extremely dangerous villains and criminals running around Gotham, and they all knew that the Grey Hawk Gang was after the Deathweaver.
That meant they would either make strides to get to her first, or more likely, they would go after the Grey Hawk’s and Carbine Slater themselves to gain whatever information they could to assist their search. And once they got a hold of Slater, it was likely that Amira’s description and name would become common knowledge amongst the criminal underworld. All possibility of a life lived on her own terms would disappear, and she would be forever hunted and in hiding. She would never be able to step foot in Gotham’s streets again.
Unless…
“We have to go after them.”
Damian was startled by Amira’s words, and looked down to see her meet his gaze as she pushed slightly back from his chest. She looked terrified, but there was a determination shining through it that Damian couldn’t help but admire, even if her words scared the shit out of him.
“You see it too, don’t you?” She said when he remained silent. “If we don’t go now – “
“I know.”
He hated it. Hated the necessity of having to go after the Grey Hawks. Now. Tonight. He hated that they had been forced into it, as it had now become a race against the villains of Gotham to get to Slater. He hated that Amira was yet again in such significant danger.
He hated that the only plan they had would place Amira directly into Slater’s clutches.
Damian let out a long breath, aware that Amira was watching him silently, awaiting a decision. It wasn’t a decision he wanted to make, but it was the only option left to them now.
“Come with me,” He said quietly.
Amira’s expression changed to one of mingled confusion and curiosity, but she followed him silently as he took her hand and led her through the Manor and down to the Batcave. Ryuu met them along the way, the black panther sliding from the shadows to keep pace with them. Its jaws were open in a soundless snarl – their alarm and fear had drawn the familiar to them and had it ready for action.
The confusion increased when Damian let Amira’s hand go at last when he walked across to the numerous cupboards that held the multiple uniforms of the vigilantes. Most were open and had been ransacked as the family had dragged their current costume out to change into it and race out into the Gotham streets tonight. Some were clearly more full than others, for example the cupboard marked ‘Nightwing’ had spilled over into a second one, complete with suits such as his first Robin costume and the infamous ‘Discowing’ that Dick was still teased for by the wider family.
But there was one cupboard that wasn’t marked, and it was to this one that Damian crossed. When he turned back to Amira, it was with a new suit in hand that hadn’t yet seen the light of day. He laid it over a nearby table and stepped back. Ryuu stepped forward to sniff at it curiously, but Amira looked between himself and the suit in confusion.
“What is this?”
“It’s yours.”
Her eyes widened and she looked back to the suit with a stunned expression.
“A – a uniform?”
Damian crossed his arms, “I knew I couldn’t stop you from coming out with us, so I had a suit made.” He continued grudgingly, “If you’re going to be so directly in danger all the time, you can at least be as protected as possible.”
Slowly, Amira approached the suit and reached out to touch it, pulling her gloves off to run her hands over the fabrics and sort through what was there. She smiled when she noticed the high collar.
“You designed this,” She said with all the confidence of a known fact.
Damian blinked, “I… did.” He frowned at her, “How did you know?”
Amira’s smile grew, but she didn’t look up at him, “An educated guess.” Her hands ran further over the fabric, following the lines and smooth finishes. “It’s beautiful, Damian,” She murmured.
He was pleased that she liked it, but he couldn’t find it within himself to be truly joyful at any reason that she had to wear this.
“Well, you’d better put it on.”
That made her finally look up at him, and she was clearly wary. “So we’re really doing this?”
Damian held her gaze, “I don’t believe we have a choice any longer.”
They were quick to change, then Damian helped Amira sort through the numerous new pockets on the belt that came with her suit and give her a quick run-down of the features.
The main outfit was skin-tight and made of a smooth matte leather that wouldn’t reflect the light. It was durable enough to take a beating, but still light and easy to move in. The sloping lines and curves of the bodysuit highlighted her figure, but entirely in black, it almost reminded him of the shadows that liked to surround her when she used her abilities.
Durable boots laced up to her knees, and a thick belt clinched in her waist, lined with pouches holding emergency items and holsters for daggers. Of course, the gloves he’d given Amira were heavier than she was used to in order to protect her, and contained a comms device in the wristlet that Damian planned to teach her to use later on.
Over it all was a thicker black coat with high collar and long trail that almost brushed the ground. The look mimicked a cape without being one and had a large black hood to keep the rain off if needed. Slightly padded shoulders were an addition for Ryuu, and served as a perch for the small kitten should it want to rest there as it preferred.
To finish the look was an Ankh symbol of muted silver set into the collar – an Egyptian symbol of eternal life and protection. It also doubled as a second tracer in addition to her bracelet and could send her location to Oracle’s screen.
Amira stood tall at last, fiddling with the pouches on her belt and showing off the fabric with delight to Ryuu, who circled her with interest. But Damian couldn’t help the spasm of fear that tightened his gut as he saw Amira in full gear for the first time. He wanted to tell her not to go after all, that she should stay put at the Manor and stay safe. And if the Grey Hawks or the villains of Gotham should somehow trace her here, he would take her anywhere in the world she wanted to go and stay with her to keep her safe for as long as it would take.
But a life on the run was no life at all, and the words got stuck in Damian’s throat.
Amira had spent her entire life with nowhere to call her own. But finally, she had chosen a place to stay. And that place was here, in Gotham, at Wayne Manor.
His tumultuous emotions had gained Ryuu’s attention, and a small meow made Amira look his way. On seeing his heavy attention, she stepped in close for another tight hug.
“Hey,” Amira pushed up onto her tiptoes so she could kiss his cheek, but Damian still had to duck his head so she could reach. “We’ll be okay.”
He frowned at that, but decided this was one future he wouldn’t mind knowing.
“Have you seen it?”
But Amira shook her head and smiled, “I have faith.”
Faith in you. He heard the words as if Amira had spoken them aloud, and it transported him back to the last time she had said them; just before she had gone entirely limp in arms covered with her blood. But strangely, it gave him hope now. They had already survived such long odds before; it gave him hope that they could do it again.
“I have something else for you.”
Damian returned to the cupboards, but delved into his own now to bring out an ornate dagger. A golden hilt was encrusted with complex carvings and glittering emeralds, but the dagger itself was light and easy to handle – perfect for both close quarters fighting and throwing. He held it out to Amira, and she took it hesitantly, staring in awe at the intricacy of the design and craftsmanship.
“Damian…”
“I’m aware you don’t know how to use it,” He allowed, “But I’m not taking you out into Gotham tonight without a single weapon on you. At least it’s something.”
“It’s beautiful,” She breathed as she turned it over, causing the gems to glint in the light.
“It was my mothers,” Damian admitted, “I’ve had it since my time in the League.”
That jerked Amira’s gaze up to meet his, she was surprised.
“You’re… giving me your mother’s dagger?”
He was aware of the significance of the gift. This was a piece of his childhood, his family, and his legacy that he was handing over to Amira now. But he felt nothing but certainty in parting with it. He had once used this weapon to take lives in cold blood, but it had grown with him, and could now be used to protect the woman he didn’t want to ever leave the side of.
Stepping closer, he reached out to tuck a lock of midnight hair behind Amira’s ear.
“Make no mistake, Amira,” Damian murmured, “You are my life now.”
She leaned into the touch, and the pale blue of her eyes held just as much intensity as he knew his did. Damian could see she was in absolute agreement with his words. But after a moment she looked back down to the dagger she held.
“She won’t mind?”
Damian just snorted. He could only imagine his mother’s bewildered reaction to finding out that he was involved with anyone in a romantic sense. But as he had once before considered, no doubt if Talia was to know just how dangerous Amira really was, she would be nothing less than thrilled at his choice.
Not that he was planning to let his mother know about Amira in any capacity.
He carefully avoided Amira’s question, but her knowing look on hearing his snort let him know she’d guessed that his mother wouldn’t be pleased about him handing on the family heirloom.
“I’ll teach you how to use it properly another time,” He said instead.
Amira smiled slightly, “That sounds good.”
And it did. Because ‘another time’ meant they were both going to survive tonight, and not only survive, but succeed. With that in mind, Damian sobered, and Amira saw the change in him and placed the dagger into a slot in her belt. It was time to get to work.
“There is a building near Gotham’s border that Tim is reasonably sure houses a large drug factory that is still in use by the Grey Hawks,” Damian began, straightening up. “We stumble across it, we fight, and we lose. Making it look like you are taken against our wishes is key.” He glanced down to the panther waiting patiently at their sides, “Ryuu will stay with you throughout to ensure your safety as much as possible, and I will follow you.”
“To Slater,” Amira verified.
Damian nodded, “That is the hope.”
“And when we’re there,” Amira lifted out the amulet from beneath the suit, “I unleash the army.”
“And we win.”
“That is the hope.” Amira smirked briefly before her expression fell into something more serious. She hid her own anxiety well, but Damian could see the fear for them both in her gently furrowed brow and lack of her usual easy smile. Amira knew as well as he did that if their half-baked plan went sideways, it could result in either of their deaths – or best-case scenario – a life on the run.
He reached out again to caress her cheek, taking comfort in her warmth and softness. Damian knew he would follow Amira to the grave if need be, but only after bloody revenge on every person responsible for such an end. Amira turned her head to kiss his palm, and while her anxiety remained, her gaze held nothing but solid determination.
Ryuu seemed to understand that this was it, and its size grew as its excitement did.
Blood will be shed tonight. Its purr was all eagerness.
Damian glanced aside at it, pinning the familiar with a warning glare. “No killing,” He reminded it sharply. Ryuu’s tail simply curled over in a picture of pleasure while Amira watched their exchange with a fond smile.
“One last thing,” Damian said as he returned to her cupboard. The domino mask he pulled out mimicked his, matte black and simple, but with sharp edges that spiked up the sides of the forehead and down over the cheekbones. Amira bit her lip as she saw it.
“So many of them have already seen me,” She pointed out with uncertainty.
“And if we encounter any that haven’t, or don’t remember, they won’t be able to pass anything on.”
“Fair enough.”
The mask went on, and blue eyes disappeared behind the white lenses of the mask. They were ready to go. Minutes later, they were on Damian’s motorcycle and speeding through Gotham’s streets towards its outskirts. Once they were out of the cave, Damian opened a direct comm to Barbara.
“Oracle?”
“Robin?” Barbara was surprised to hear from him, but quick to reprimand, “You’re not meant to be – “
“We need to finish this,” He interrupted bluntly. There was a long moment of silence, then a sigh.
“I know it won’t change your mind, but I just want to verbalise how much of a bad idea this is,” Barbara warned. “If anything happens there will be no one available to back you up.”
“Trust me, I’m aware,” Damian said shortly, “Do you have the Deathweaver’s beacon on your screen?”
“You’re both here,” She confirmed, “I’ll keep an eye on your location and do what I can if… well, just be safe.”
The comm cut out. A small pat on Damian’s chest from the arms around him let him know Amira had overheard at least his half of the conversation. In the back of his hood, Ryuu was purring quietly in its own version of reassurance. Damian directed his thoughts to the familiar.
Whatever happens, protect Amira first. He ordered.
Ryuu understands, we will protect the Seer. A small, wet nose was pressed to his cheek. The Robin must be careful too.
Damian knew he was going to do whatever it took to ensure Amira no longer had this threat hanging over her. If they could take down Slater, her identity would be protected and the Grey Hawks would be without their head. The gang would finally topple, and both Gotham and Amira would be that much safer for it.
Tonight, one way or the other, this would finally end.
They were silent for the rest of the journey towards the outskirts of Gotham. At last, Damian pulled into a narrow alleyway and cut off the engine. He dismounted after Amira, and Ryuu jumped out of his hood to land on the ground. It quickly grew again to a panther and began sniffing around them as they faced each other.
“We try to look careful,” Damian decided aloud, “But not be so careful they don’t know we’re coming.”
Amira just nodded shortly, “I’ll follow your lead.”
They moved from the shadows to begin walking down the street towards the warehouse Tim had marked out. They both kept to the shadows, but not so far into the shadows as to be invisible to any eyes looking out for movement. Ryuu was quick to turn to a blackbird and take to the skies, and Damian knew the familiar would keep an eye on things from above.
As they closed in on their target warehouse, Damian noted two dark figures atop one roof. As usual, Tim’s educated guesses had been correct. He had to physically hold himself back from rolling his eyes on seeing the guard’s terrible concealment, but their placement would be perfect for their needs.
“This place should be abandoned,” He said conversationally, and Amira jumped slightly at the unexpected words that broke their tense silence, “We can take a good look around before returning to the others.”
Amira’s look questioned his sanity until he darted his eyes towards the two men suddenly trying to hide harder. Amira carefully followed his gaze before her eyes widened in realisation.
“We’d better be quick,” She matched his conversational, but slightly too loud words, “There have been some Arkham escapees seen nearby.”
She winked at him and Damian had to hide a smile.
Sure enough, as they moved out of earshot, he heard the quiet beep that gave away a radio transmitting behind them. The guards were calling in and letting the others know they were coming. Their exchanged words set up the expectation that they arrived alone, hopefully lowering the Grey Hawks guard. Amira’s words also added an element of urgency. They would want to get their prize out of there quickly once captured, making it even more likely that she would be taken directly to Slater.
Damian and Amira kept up intermittent but unremarkable chatter, purposefully giving away their position as they closed in. But he could sense her rising tension as the warehouse came into sight, and under the cover of their capes, he reached out to give her hand a quick squeeze.
He needed the contact as much as she did.
They passed more hidden guards as they arrived at the service door that would allow them entrance, and Amira stepped back to allow Damian to make a show of breaking into the building. He did so and pulled the door open far more loudly than usual, although perhaps was still too quiet because Amira then pushed it hard enough that it slammed open.
“Oops, sorry.”
The slight tremor in her voice could have been mistaken as laughter, but Damian knew it to be the fear she concealed well.
He made sure to sigh loudly as if annoyed before they advanced into the space.
Damian had to give it to the Grey Hawks, they had cleared the space amazingly fast. There wasn’t a single person in sight, although there were discarded tools and casings of weapons left haphazardly discarded on the numerous tables throughout. He made sure to make a show of slowly coming to a halt at one of the tables to look over the contents.
With a breath, Amira bumped her shoulder against his and wandered away. It was almost a physical pain to let her walk away from his side and further into the building, knowing what would be coming next.
Damian waited until he heard the vague sounds of people coming around the side of the building, intent on boxing them in, before he at last stood sharply as if finally noting the sound.
“We need to leave,” He said loudly, “Now.”
Then all hell broke loose.
Members of the Grey Hawks poured into the building from multiple entrances, and were quick to race towards and surround both him and the Deathweaver separately. They immediately grabbed at Amira despite her attempts to get away, and they were quick to engage Robin in battle.
Damian made a show of trying to run to Amira’s side, but allowed himself to get dragged into a short duel of flashing knives instead of ploughing straight through them to her. He pulled out two sai and twirled them before engaging. While he needed to allow Amira to be captured here, he still had to put on a good show, and Damian had every intention of making the Grey Hawks pay heavily for this.
He spun and stabbed and sliced, deftly avoiding or pushing aside and catching the blades coming at him, and Damian was soon coated in blood that wasn’t his from the many slashes that spurted out over him. It was distraction enough that when Damian finally sent the first group that came at him to the floor, Amira had been dragged further away from him. She was putting on a good show, screaming for them to leave her alone, to get off her, and for Robin to help her.
It tore at Damian’s heart to instead turn and engage a second group of gang members that rushed him from the side. Against one wall, a few members were also firing potshots at him, so Damian dived deeper into the group of enemies to avoid the bullets.
Ryuu now added to the chaos by diving through a window from outside and shifting into the large black wolf that was so familiar to them now. The wolf turned to the shooters lining the edges of the room and fell upon them with vicious satisfaction. Their screams added to the din in the room, but Damian ignored it all to focus on avoiding the plethora of weapons slashing towards him from all angles.
It was Amira’s cry of more genuine pain that had Damian’s head whipping around to see her arm was being twisted painfully behind her as they forced the Deathweaver to her knees.
That was when everything went wrong.
Something smacked hard into the back of Damian’s head and he was sent to one knee, having to concentrate hard just to stay conscious. His vision went briefly black with the force of the blow, and he twisted on instinct alone to sweep out the legs from his attacker. But as he stood again he wavered, earning him a punch to the jaw that had his head spinning even harder. Damian kicked out in the direction it came from, feeling a satisfying snap as his boot connected with a knee that shattered under his blow.
But then an arm snaked around his neck from behind, pulling him back into a chokehold. He stabbed one of his daggers upwards and into the offending hand and it whisked away with a cry of pain, but not before Damian felt the bite of something sharp in his neck.
“Robin!” Amira’s scream was one of panic, but not for herself, for him.
He twisted away from the grappling arms and focussed in on the men spread out before him, now all suddenly stepping back and away from his twirling daggers. He – he tried to focus in.
But his vision blurred and a wave of dizziness swept over him. His tunnelling vision swept over those in front of him and found what he was looking for – a spent needle on the ground.
“What the fuck was in that?” He spat. But his rising fury did nothing to hold back the quickly increasing dizziness, and he stumbled when he attempted to stand fully upright.
Amira clearly saw his failing consciousness too, and her fear was clear in her shouted words as she was dragged further back and away from him.
“Robin! Get out of here!”
He couldn’t. At this rate, he would barely get out of the building before collapsing. It seemed his last act would be to make Amira’s capture look as good as possible. As long as she got to Slater, she could unleash her army and take the bastard down, even without him. Damian lunged forward with every intent of attacking the line of mobsters in front of him, but suddenly he was on the ground, the concrete floor coming up on him just slow enough that he caught himself on his hands and knees. His sai went skidding away from him as his grip faltered.
“Ryuu, get him out!” Amira’s command had the familiar leaping for him, but Damian managed to hold a hand up to stop it.
Look after Amira. He mentally reminded the familiar of their agreement. The wolf stopped in place not far from him and whined, distress pulsed clearly from Ryuu as its massive head swung between its bonded pair. Meanwhile, the line of gang members in front of Damian advanced, smirking evilly. One in particular approached ahead of the others, swinging a machete from one hand with deadly intent.
“No,” Amira’s scream was all anger and desperation, “No!”
The temperature of the room plummeted, and those holding onto Amira gasped and keeled over as the woman suddenly burst away from them, coated in writhing shadows that whipped around her with her anger, and bright white eyes glowed from within them. She lashed out viscously with her gifted dagger as she did so in order to break the hold on her, and a thick spurt of blood arched through the air.
She sprinted the length of the room towards him, the temperature only falling further as everyone she passed seized up and fell to the ground clutching at their chests. Amira came skidding to a halt on her knees next to Damian, and he felt her hands uselessly try to pull him upright.
“It’s a paralytic,” Damian gasped. He was breathing heavily and starting to sweat as whatever he had been injected with took a hold. Fuck, this was not how he wanted to die.
“I’ll get you out,” Amira’s words were punctuated by another burst of power as those further away in the building started to get to their feet. She put a stop to that quickly, but he could see the strain on her face at the exertion as she had to split her concentration.
“The – the plan – “
“The plan has gone to shit, Damian.” Amira hissed, only for his ears, “They are going to kill you. I’m getting you out.”
But those around them were starting to stand too quickly. Another burst of power sent them to their knees again, but it wasn’t as strong as last time, and some of them began to crawl forwards and towards the pair crouched together on the floor. Another pulse made them pause and groan as they clutched at their chests, but further out, more were getting to their feet.
With the help of the large black wolf at one side, Amira got Damian to his feet, but he could no longer take a single step unassisted, and he leaned heavily onto Ryuu’s large body.
“You need to go,” Damian slurred.
“I’m not leaving you,” Amira said stubbornly, and she gripped the dagger still held in one hand tighter. When her determined gaze turned to him, Damian realised she was as set on her future as he was – there wasn’t one if it wasn’t going to be at the other’s side.
“Stupid woman,” He muttered. Amira merely smiled darkly before closing her eyes and concentrating as another massive burst of power halted every other person in that room. As one, they began to stagger towards the door.
A sudden round of gunfire cut through the space and splattered down Ryuu’s side. The familiar howled and twisted sharply as they bit into its flank, and Damian was thrown from its back onto the floor, landing on his own back. Amira twisted to stand over them both protectively and flung her free hand out towards the source, Damian felt the clench of his own gut in response to the surge in power and heard the gurgle that no doubt was the cause of the gunfire immediately ceasing.
“Hold your fire!” The weakly shouted command came too late, but it gave Damian hope that they still intended to at least take Amira alive.
He tried to move, he really did, but the paralytic had taken a hold of his limbs enough that he could only manage a twitch in one hand. He just hoped that the paralytic was strong enough that it might stop his lungs from working before the psycho with a machete got to him.
Look after her, Damian directed the barely coherent thought at Ryuu, and the massive wolf turned to look at him with a low whine. It was unhappy at the thought of leaving him to his fate.
But then something entered the fading peripheries of his vision; a silhouette coming up behind Amira, whose attention was entirely elsewhere as she continued to try and keep down the masses in front of her.
“Look out!” Damian’s warning was barely a croak, but it was already too late.
The butt of a rifle smacked into the side of Amira’s head, and she fell sideways in a heap without a sound. She landed alongside Damian, unconscious, and all the ice to the air abruptly lifted. The golden dagger she held clattered to the ground between them, crimson blood still dripping from its blade.
Fear paralysed Damian faster than the drug had, and he desperately tried to reach out for the hand at her side. He may have just brushed against it before a boot came for his own head and his vision went dark.
Chapter 34: Showdown
Notes:
Here we are, at the end, the final boss(es?) of the fic
How are our pair going to get out of this mess with two chapters to go??
I'm dropping both the end chapters at once so you can read it all before the holidays <3
1/2
Chapter Text
AMIRA
Pain woke you. A sudden hot flash across one cheek snapped your head to the side. Your eyes fluttered with a gasp, but the warm embrace of darkness drew you back in.
It wasn’t to be, as a rough hand then gripped your hair and dragged your head around so you faced bright light. You tried to flinch away from it, but the grip in your hair made it far too painful and you groaned aloud.
“Wake up, bitch,” A voice snapped, “Or I’ll have to mark up that pretty face a little more.”
“Get your hands off her!” A snarl followed the unknown voice, but despite how furious and dangerous this one was, it filled you with warmth.
It was Damian’s voice that had you fighting to open your eyes and at last blink them open to take in your surroundings. The first thing you saw was a man off to your left, he was large and covered in piercings with a cruel expression. He still had a bitingly tight grip on your hair, but his mouth was curved up into a cruel smile as he silently taunted the other person in the room.
Damian. Oh Gods.
He was strung up across from you, hanging by his wrists from thick chains that in turn hung from the high ceiling. His wrists were rubbed raw and dripping blood down his arms. Cuts and wounds had opened up across his body, turning his dark suit even darker where it soaked through with his blood. His face was bruised heavily across one side of his jaw. Damian had clearly been tortured while you had been unconscious, but he didn’t seem aware of any of it, as his gaze was fixed only on you.
Tears were streaming down your face without your knowledge as you took him in, and you felt sick to your stomach.
“Robin…” Your voice broke.
“I’m okay,” His voice was hoarse. He didn’t sound okay. But another voice quickly invaded your subconscious.
The Robin is healing, Ryuu is helping.
You forced yourself not to look around, but a sob tore out of your throat at the relief of knowing your faithful familiar was nearby and had been helping. Damian watched you carefully, looking pained on seeing your tears, but Ryuu’s voice soon came again.
The Robin would like you to know he is not gravelly injured. Do not cry, Seer.
You could feel Ryuu’s distress as your tears only came faster.
It’s okay, Ryuu. I’m okay. You tried to reassure your familiar, knowing the tears were partly relief that Damian was even alive, despite being so badly injured.
“You’ve messed up big, Deathweaver.”
The mocking voice next to your head reminded you of the more threatening presence in the room. The hand in your hair jerked slightly and you winced at the sharp pain it caused.
“We would have just killed the Robin, left one less bird on the streets. But you’ve given away your biggest secret…” He let go of your hair and moved into your vision to grin unkindly down at you, “You care for him. Does he know that?”
Behind him where he couldn’t be seen, Damian rolled his eyes and you bit your lip hard to hide the slightly hysterical laugh that threatened. The man clearly took the move as affirmation of his words, and he now stepped back to turn towards Robin with a sly look.
“What a silly thing to do, because you see, now we control you… through him.”
Without warning, he punched hard into Damian’s abdomen and you screamed as his breath left him in a harsh grunt. Despite the way he hunched slightly over the injury proving it had certainly hurt him, Damian didn’t otherwise react.
But you did.
As rage rushed up inside you, power surged and you sunk gratefully into it, already reaching out with your mind in preparation to rip this man from the face of the Earth.
“Ah, you might want to rethink that, Deathweaver.”
Ryuu is healing, Ryuu is healing. Your familiar chanted in your head, desperately trying to calm your fury. You saw why when the man moved aside slightly and revealed the sharp golden blade he had pressed into Damian’s side, your blade.
Breathing hard, you struggled to push your fury aside enough to pull back your power. The man no doubt felt the icy claws inside him that threatened to rip him inside out, but he barely shifted in place as he stared you down, sure enough that you would choose to spare Robin that it made him bold.
He pressed the blade harder into Damian’s side and you saw his lips thin as he repressed any noise of pain.
“Stand down,” The man ordered you.
You glared at him a moment longer, at last pulling back on your use of power and letting the temperature lift. The man stood straighter, no doubt feeling the heaviness of your power lift from him, and he smirked at you as he pocketed the blade he held.
“As soon as Robin is down from there,” You hissed at him, “I am going to kill you.”
To his credit, he had the good sense to look disconcerted at the threat, knowing it would take little effort on your part to do so. But his confidence soon returned, as did his anger, and he stepped towards you to backhand you hard across the face, so hard that for a moment your head slumped forward as you saw stars.
“How dare you!” Damian was roused from his silence as you were hurt, and the burning rage in his snarl was impossible to miss, “You’re going to regret that!”
The man turned to Damian with violent intent in his eyes, but any further action was stilled by a cool voice that invaded the room.
“I ask that you leave the merchandise alone.”
You turned your pounding head to see a second man walk into the room. He was tall but slight with little physical presence. But there was something about the way that he carried himself that exuded sharp cunning and power.
You realised who this was at the same time as Damian did.
“Carbine Slater,” He breathed.
Slater came to a stop before you both and dipped his head in acknowledgement.
“I admit, you two have given me quite the run around these past months.” He looked now to Damian, “I must commend you on being a worthy adversary, Robin.” Then his gaze flicked towards you, and the piercing eyes looked you over with both hunger and greed, “But now the Deathweaver is mine.”
“I will never help you,” You declared strongly. To your surprise, Slater simply smiled.
“You will not have a choice.”
You glanced across to Damian, who looked just as worried at the confidence of that answer, but as he met your gaze, he inclined his head slightly.
Now, Ryuu translated the unspoken word.
Feeling the amulet around your neck start to warm against your skin as you concentrated, you were just about to begin pulling your army of ghosts into the room when Slater spoke again with a sly smile.
“May I present a new player in the game,” Slater gestured grandly towards the doorway as he stepped aside, “A man you may know well…”
Into the frame of the doorway stepped a tall silhouette; a man in tattered robes and a mask made of brown fabric with a gaping, stitched mouth. Small slits were the only suggestion of eyes and a thick rope noose hung from his neck. The horrifying ensemble was topped with a large, ripped hat, and with utter horror you realised you knew exactly who it was.
The Scarecrow.
Slater was taking in your terrified expression with barely concealed delight, “Doctor Crane has been assisting me for some time by coming up with a special blend of fear toxin that reacts to a known DNA sample to control the specific target’s mind to see and believe what I want them to.”
Now, now! Ryuu was urging you, but your mind was trapped in the horror that was Slater’s smile as his cruel eyes focussed on you.
“You are that lucky target, Deathweaver,” The cruel smile grew wider. “You left enough blood at the site of almost bleeding out that I could have made this many times over, had I wanted to. Say, how is your wound healing?”
“Now!” Damian’s voice joined the chorus in your head, “Do it now!”
It was Damian that jolted you out of the numbing fear you had entered, and you sunk into your power to start pulling ghosts into the room. Even if you could just get a few in, it could cause enough chaos to get yourself or Damian free. As the temperature dropped and a few ghosts started flickering to life around you, you sucked in a breath and began to race through the words Zatanna had given you.
“Sana quod abiit - Mph!”
But Slater nodded at Scarecrow as you started speaking and the villain stepped forward to force a mask over your mouth. You stopped speaking at once to hold your breath and immediately lost your hold on the few ghosts you had managed to call forwards, instead trying desperately to squirm away from the mask to no avail. Multiple hands reached out to force your head still so the mask could sit securely over your mouth.
You could smell the strong chemicals of the fumes it held, and you continued trying to turn away to no avail as you quickly started running out of air. Across from you, Damian was yelling and struggling hard against his bonds.
“No! Let her go!”
You held on for as long as you could, but your lungs started to burn for air and your eyes watered, distorting Slater’s growing smile as your head spun.
“Soon you shall be mine. I will command the Deathweaver, and with the sight of the future and the power of death itself, I will rule over not only Gotham, but the world itself!”
You had to take a breath.
You sucked in air to continued shouts from Damian, and immediately coughed as the harsh toxins were sucked down into your lungs. But you reflectively breathed harder, sucking in and coughing more as you desperately tried to get air into your system.
The hands holding you suddenly let go, and you pulled harshly away from the mask at your face, pleased when that too disappeared.
But… but…
You stared around. The room you were in was now distorted, shifting and changing shape in a way that made you feel sick. Around you no longer stood men, but shadowy creatures with glowing red eyes. You flinched away with a terrified gasp, quickly growing more panicked when you realised you were still tied to the chair you sat in and couldn’t get away. You looked down to see if you might be able to get out of the ropes that held you, but you screamed when you saw what held you wasn’t ropes at all, but instead writhing, fleshy intestines.
Seer, You flinched at the harsh, growling word in your head, then whimpered and ducked your head as it continued, Seer you must see what is true.
More terrified and confused than you had ever been in your life, you reflectively sunk into your power, trying to lash out mentally at the twisting organs that held you to no avail.
“You don’t know what you’re doing!” A voice yelled, but it was dull and echoey, as if coming from down a long tunnel. “She could kill us all!”
One of the shadows turned away from you.
“She can be directed.” The shadow smiled and you whimpered again and pulled away as far as you could from it as it turned to you, the smile widening to something impossibly wide and showing massive gleaming teeth. “Girl, look to the Robin.”
Look to the Robin. The urge to obey was strong, you didn’t understand why, but the shadow with the too-wide smile spoke sense. Of course you should look to the Robin. What the shadow said was the only thing that made sense in this terrifying hellscape.
You turned your head away from the shadow to look in front of you, only to end up struck in horror at the distorted demon before you. A skeletal figure made of rotting flesh and shadows almost appeared to be going up in smoke, but its enormous, impossibly twisted figure remained. Jagged horns protruded from its head and massive clawed hands seemed to reach out towards you. Glowing red eyes were focused on you, and they burned with lethal intent.
“Isn’t it horrible,” A voice whispered in your ear, “Isn’t it the most terrifying thing you’ve ever seen?”
It was horrible, you had never been more scared in your life, and you struggled desperately in the chair to free yourself, to push backwards, anything that could get you further away from the beast that would surely kill you.
“Don’t hurt me,” You pleaded with it, almost sobbing as panic clogged your throat, “Please don’t kill me!”
“Look at me!” A more familiar voice demanded from far away, and you almost hesitated in your desperate scramble for freedom to listen to it, “See me for who I am!”
But the voice in your ear spoke again, “It’s going to kill you if you don’t kill it first.”
Your struggling and sobbing and screaming increased, unable to bear the overwhelming fear that held you tightly in its grip. But then the shadow’s voice spoke again, close and quiet.
“Amira…” You stilled as you heard your name, horror and fear like you had never felt slicing through you. “Now you are mine.”
Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!
Your name shouldn’t have been spoken here. You shouldn’t have heard it whispered gleefully into your ear. Deep down, that in itself was so terrifying that you flipped straight over into blind panic. You struggled harder as you screamed, and you felt the bindings around you begin to bite into your skin in your desperation. You couldn’t get away, and the awful demon before you seemed to grow larger in your mind, encompassing everything that you could see. You felt its heat like a roaring furnace, heard its every harsh breath like a howling wind around you. Its glowing red eyes drew you in, and you suddenly realised that if you didn’t kill this creature, it would destroy you.
Sinking deeper into your power, you lashed out towards the demon to aggressively latch on to its bond, determined to uproot it before it could kill you.
“That’s it, kill him!”
You… you needed to kill him… it. The urge was overwhelming, the fear staggering in its enormity. You dug deeper, poised to rip apart the bond and send the demon from this world.
But… the monster didn’t flinch as your power dug into its bond, its life force, its soul. Why? The only person who had ever been able to stand so resolutely against your power without flinching had been –
As if a switch had been flipped, you understood what was going on. Suddenly you could feel the effects of the Scarecrow’s fear toxin within you as if you could see it as oil clouding the surface of clear water. As soon as you recognised it, it took little effort for your magic to overcome it and wipe the hallucinations from your vision and the fear from your mind.
You blinked across the room at Damian, you saw him simply hanging in place and no longer fighting. He just watched you with a strange peace on his face, as if he had truly accepted he was about to die by your hand and merely awaited the death blow.
At your side, Slater leaned even closer to order again, “Kill him now!”
Well, it was time to flip the odds.
Faster than you ever had in practice, you reached for every remembered spirit bond you had, and dragged them all into the room at once. The enormous force of the sudden burst of power caused a frigid wind to howl around you and send your hair flying as ice suddenly crusted on the walls.
All around you, ghosts straightened and began to take in the room and those around them. Directly next to you stood Dave, who took one look at Slater and began to grin.
“The endgame,” He realised aloud, “I’m going to enjoy this.”
The others in the room had all stilled and looked towards you as your power howled around them before abruptly settling into an icy, freezing stillness once more. Damian had looked up sharply as your grip on his bond released, whereas Slater, Scarecrow, and the first man were looking cautiously confused.
The first man was swinging his head to look between you and Damian, growing quickly more nervous as he saw Robin still lived.
“What’s going on?” His words blew out white into the air before him.
Slater was frowning at you and stepped forward to grip your chin hard in one hand.
“Kill him! Do it now!” He demanded.
You turned your head to look at him, and he flinched back from the glowing white of your eyes.
“Sana quod abiit,” You began, “Mortuos …”
Scarecrow spoke for the first time, taking a step closer to you as his hoarse voice asked, “What is she saying?”
The first man joined Slater in standing over you in confusion, “Does she have to say a spell to kill him?”
“…Permitte reviviscere.”
You smiled.
Slater suddenly let go of your chin with a startled exclamation as upwards of fifty ghosts suddenly turned solid around him, packing the room with a startling amount of people who were all staring at him with deadly grins. There was a long moment of silence as the ghosts took stock of their surroundings, and Slater and the other’s expressions began to move from confused alarm to outright panic.
“Carbine Slater,” Dave was the one to step forward at last, “Welcome to your reckoning.”
The man at Slater’s side was looking paler by the second as he realised just who was standing before him.
“D-Dave?” He stuttered, “But, but you’re – “
“Dead?” Dave finished for him with a grin.
The man whipped a gun from a holster and fired it directly into Dave’s forehead. The ghost’s head snapped backwards, but he slowly righted it only to smile at the man, with no further reaction at all to the new hole in the centre of his head.
Dave’s smile turned evil, “You are correct.”
The man looked to Slater, who had now taken a step back from you, staring at you with a horror and fear that rivalled that of anything a fear toxin could cause.
You smiled serenely.
“You messed with the Deathweaver, Slater. You might want to start running.”
DAMIAN
Slater ran.
He raced from the room on the heels of the Scarecrow – who had always had a talent for realising when he was outgunned – and both were closely followed by the man who had tortured Damian for the hours before Amira woke. The ghosts looked between each other for a moment, until Dave gave a loud whoop and gave chase, then the horde of ghosts thundered from the room in gleeful pursuit. Shouts, yells, and soon screams began to sound from outside as they began falling upon every member of the Grey Hawk Gang they encountered.
Once the room emptied out, a shadow detached from one wall and slunk towards Amira, growing into a large panther on the way. Ryuu rumbled as it approached, and Damian could feel that it was upset at her injuries and almost being overcome by the toxin, but pleased at the turn of events.
A careful claw reached out to slice open the ropes holding her to the chair and once free, Amira immediately threw her arms around Ryuu to give her familiar a tight hug before standing and stumbling across to Damian.
He found himself unable to do anything but stare at Amira, completely stunned himself at the sudden change of events. He paid no mind to her dragging the chair over so she could stand on it and try to figure out how to get him down, and instead replayed the events in his mind to no clear conclusion.
“How did you overcome the fear toxin?” He asked in disbelief.
“You,” Amira smiled at him briefly. She had dried tear tracks down her cheeks and bruises coming up across one cheekbone, but seeing her smile settled Damian from the fear he had felt on seeing the Scarecrow’s mask come down over her face.
“You didn’t flinch from my power,” She explained as she pulled at his restraints, “Even when I was about to kill you. No one else trusts me so completely.”
“Yes but…” Damian was watching her still glowing eyes carefully, but they were bright and clear and without the terrified glaze of the fear toxin. “The gas must still be affecting you.”
“Perhaps, but my magic is now allowing me to see clearly.” Seeing she couldn’t get the chains off Damian without a key, she turned to Ryuu. The familiar immediately morphed into an enormous bear and stood on its hind legs to bite at the cuffs.
Damian barely had time to begin to protest before the cuffs cracked under the force of the bite. His weight pulled him out of the cuffs and he fell heavily to his knees on the floor with a curse.
Amira was on her knees in front of him seconds later and throwing her arms around Damian’s neck to hold him tight. Ryuu joined them both as well, morphing back into a large panther and winding around them both purring loudly.
“Ow, Amira.” Damian complained as her tight embrace aggravated his many injuries. They still smarted despite Ryuu helping to heal the worst of them, leaving only superficial wounds and keeping him free of overwhelming pain or injury that would keep him out of the upcoming fight.
“I’m sorry I don’t care!” She buried her face into his neck and sobbed, “I almost killed you.”
Damian sighed and wound his arms around her to hold her tightly back. This was not his first-time seeing Amira cry, but the sight was both making his heart ache and heightening his fury with the screaming gang members outside. He was just relieved she was alright though, seeing her succumb to the fear toxin when knowing firsthand just how real and terrifying the hallucinations were had been…
Well, he held her a little tighter.
“There are worse ways to go,” He murmured.
Amira pulled back and scowled at him through continuing tears.
“That’s not funny.”
She was clearly irritated to see a smirk starting to play at his lips, but when his lips moved forward to brush against hers ever so softly, that irritation quickly disappeared.
“It was no joke, I assure you.”
A particularly loud scream from outside caught his attention and they both looked towards the doorway.
Damian’s smirk now turned to a full-blown smile.
“Shall we see what havoc your army is bringing on the Grey Hawks, Deathweaver?”
Amira wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands and at last smiled back, “It would be my genuine pleasure, Robin.”
They both stood and Amira stared now at Damian with more than a little concern as her gaze roved over his many injuries. “Are you sure you’re okay to – “
“It’s all superficial,” Damian assured her, “Ryuu has been healing me throughout.”
They hurt, but they wouldn’t hinder him. Damian had fought through pain his entire life, this wouldn’t be a problem. Amira no doubt saw the truth of his words in his eyes as she swallowed hard and nodded, reaching over to pat the head of her familiar. But she spoke again, and this time the news wasn’t as good.
“Slater knows who I am.”
Damian glanced sharply back towards her, “You’re sure?”
“He whispered it to me when I was hallucinating,” Amira chewed at one lip and gazed up at him in worry, “I – I think it’s just him that knows but… I’m not sure.”
There were good and bad things in there. Firstly, bad that Slater knew Amira’s identity. Secondly, good that he hadn’t felt confident enough to speak her name to the rest of the room. They may yet be able to keep that knowledge confined.
“Right,” Damian rapidly considered his options, “We need to get to Slater then.”
A soft hand wound through Damian’s, “Lead the way.”
As one, they all made their way to the doorway and stepped outside to take in the sight before them.
Damian stepped out into a massive hall, and within that hall, chaos.
Mobsters ran amuck through the large space, stabbing, shooting, punching, kicking, even biting at the army that had suddenly confronted them. But the ghosts that Amira had solidified didn’t feel an ounce of that pain and were beating the Grey Hawk Gang into submission with only their own limbs. It seemed they were taking his words of ‘incapacitate by any means’ truly to heart and were paying no mind to whatever magnitude of injury that was afflicted upon themselves.
Amira truly had summoned an entire army to fight against the Grey Hawk Gang. There were so many people fighting in the hall that it was packed tightly, and it was hard to see any one person in the mess, let alone pick Slater and Scarecrow out of it.
Ryuu was now all but vibrating with excitement as it took in the battle around it, and the familiar quickly grew to the large wolf it preferred to fight as. Damian glanced aside at it.
“No killing,” He reminded it. Ryuu let out a displeased hiss.
Ryuu will still bathe in blood, we may still have fun.
At Amira’s quiet laugh, he knew she had heard the answer too. Damian sighed.
“Alright,” He said, steering them back to business, “We have to get to Slater and Scarecrow to end this.”
Amira nodded at his side, “You go, I need to focus on keeping the ghosts whole. Ryuu and the ghosts can protect me.”
Everything in Damian instantly rebelled at the thought of leaving her side, but he turned to the woman at his side and really took her in as he considered her words.
Amira was currently a picture of power, with eyes brightly aglow and dark hair whipping out behind her. Even her coat was getting caught up in the wind her powers riled up, and it flared out behind her even as she stood still. Like this, he saw her for who she was; a woman who had almost singlehandedly hunted this gang to the edges of Gotham, who had survived multiple attempts on her life, who was the only person to have ever thrown off the influence of the Scarecrow’s fear toxin despite it being specifically crafted to her DNA.
The Deathweaver would be okay without his protection now.
She met his gaze with steely determination, no doubt reading his thoughts through the slight change of expressions crossing his face. When he came to his decision, Amira nodded in silent assurance that she would be fine.
After taking the luxury to brush his knuckles over her jaw in farewell, Damian turned and threw himself into the fray.
It truly was chaos. There were so many people fighting that the masses moved back and forth tumultuously, lashing blindly out at each other almost at random. Screams of pain, gurgles of defeat, and yells of enthusiastic victory echoed around the space and amalgamated with the sounds of weapons discharging and clashing into a clamouring noise that made it impossible to hear any specific thing around him. Even being within the tightly packed, fighting crowd was almost overbearingly hot, and it smelt of blood and sweat.
Damian pushed through it all, trying to avoid most of the fighting in his hunt for Slater and Scarecrow. The last thing he needed was to get dragged into something time consuming that would allow them to get away. He dodged kicks and punches coming at him from random angles and made sure to take down any contenders quickly and brutally. He couldn’t allow them up again to truly get in his way.
Moving around the room while he looked through the masses for Slater and Scarecrow, Damian could now see it looked like an old hall, and a large one at that. It seemed the Grey Hawks had moved into an abandoned school to set up camp.
“Robin!”
A booming yell over the throngs startled most of the people around him, and Damian swung around to narrow his gaze in on the massive man that had snarled his name.
It had been a mistake to announce his presence and clear intention to duel, as it would have made much more sense to sneak up on Robin. He would have been hard pressed to hear any give away scuffing of feet over the constant noise.
As it was, the man grinned and brought up a pistol to point at Damian, but he was already moving. Multiple shots went off as Damian darted aside, ducking behind a ghost for cover. The shots impacted into the ghost, who barely flinched and instead looked down at Damian in confusion as he suddenly ducked in front of them.
Shrugging and deciding to use the unassailable form of the ghost to his advantage, Damian then grabbed their arms and shoved them back so they stumbled towards his attacker.
“Hey!”
The ghosts surprise only lasted as long as Damian stayed in the cover of their form, because as soon as he was close enough to the man still emptying bullets into the ghost, he ducked out from behind them and kicked the pistol out of his grip. Spinning around, Damian followed the kick up with another immediately after, and this one smacked into the jaw of the man, sending him stumbling back with a cry of pain.
Over the years, Damian had grown to match his father in height, although he didn’t quite have his bulk. But this man was even taller than Bruce was, and far bulkier. As Damian sank back into a fighting stance, he watched the man carefully. After shaking his head to clear it from the hit, furious eyes narrowed in on him.
“I will enjoy killing you, boy!”
Damian didn’t bother to reply, chatter during a fight wasn’t really his style. But as the man roared at him and charged, he noted the heaviness of his footfalls. For all his size, his assailant wasn’t going to be light on his feet.
Perfect.
A fist came sailing towards his face, but Damian was already gone. Ducking under the punch, he danced around his side and snuck two hard punches into his ribs before rolling out of the way as a reactive backhand swung back around towards him. As the man turned back around to face him, wincing at the new pain in his ribs, Damian surged up from the floor with a devastating uppercut into his jaw that snapped his head back and sent a tooth flying. Now in close to the man’s body, Damian twisted, grabbed an arm, and threw the man over his hip to smash him onto the floor.
He lay stunned too long. A hard kick from Damian rendered him unconscious before he could so much as look surprised at the sudden turn of events.
But Damian was already up and looking around. Glancing across the space, he could see Amira had found herself a small, raised dais in the centre of the room to stand upon. Her eyes glowed brightly as she continued to keep all the ghosts solid and active. Although seeing her in that middle of the chaos worried Damian to no end, he could also see a ring of ghosts at the bottom of the dais that protected her.
Feeling reassured that she had things well in hand, Damian turned back to the fighting crowd surrounding him. He again gave and avoided kicks, punches, blades slashed his way, and the odd bullet that shot through the crowd. While his injuries burned with the constant movement, Ryuu had healed him enough that it was bearable, and Damian still moved freely, able to compartmentalise the pain into the background.
It was a disturbing experience fighting alongside beings who didn’t feel pain. Many now sported injuries that would have crippled or killed any alive person, but as it was, it didn’t even slow Amira’s army down. Damian even saw one ghost using its own severed arm to beat a gang member on the ground into unconsciousness. He could see the effect it had on the Grey Hawks, as many fought with obvious fear as they tried in desperation to figure out how to stop the ghost’s onward advance.
Damian did his best to ignore the unnerving sight and was fervently glad that they were with him rather than against.
At one point, Ryuu joined his side as he fought through a particularly dense grouping of gang members. Feeling the familiar’s bloodlust surging as he fought beside it quickly made Damian’s own fighting style more vicious and reminiscent of his time in the League, and he had to concentrate to avoid the killing blows this fighting style was made for. They made their way through the group of enemies quickly, and soon a gaggle of ghosts fell upon the few left, giving Damian a moment’s pause.
He was startled when Ryuu suddenly let out a chilling growl and leapt away from him. Damian knocked away a blade headed for his throat, took control of the man’s arm and broke it, then shoved him away, at last turning to see where Ryuu had gone as he felt a bolt of fury and satisfaction from the familiar.
The growling wolf had knocked down a man in grey fatigues and was pinning them to the ground. Damian saw the man was quickly bleeding out from a ragged wound in his chest, clearly something vital had been torn open by the furious animal atop him. But this man was familiar to him; the one who had tortured Damian until Amira had awoken, and had struck her so brutally.
For a moment, as the ghosts took down the enemies around him, Damian had time to kneel at the man’s side. Blood gurgled up his throat, choking off any pleading words, but Damian could see the beg for help in his eyes. It was already too late for him though; this was a fatal injury and half of his blood volume had already pooled on the floor beneath him.
Damian reached out, his gaze never leaving the man’s, but it was only to pull the golden dagger now coated in blood from his slack grip as he watched the life leave the pleading eyes before him. Once the man’s twitching movements finally settled, Damian glanced up to see Ryuu watching him, panting and viciously pleased with the only life it had taken tonight. He could tell that Ryuu had killed this man in revenge for hurting both himself and Amira.
Justice not vengeance. Bruce’s mantra rang through Damian’s head. But who was he to tell an ageless supernatural being what to do? Damian turned away from the body on the floor and slipped the dagger into his belt.
Pausing to look around again was when he finally saw it. A wide, ragged hat ducking out of a doorway, closely followed by a tall, thin man that turned at the last minute to glance behind him.
Slater met Damian’s eyes from across the hall, and he smiled before following the Scarecrow and disappearing from sight. Shit. Even as Damian began forcing his way through the fighting crowds, he knew as Slater did that it was going to take too long to get across the full length of the hall.
He wasn’t going to get there in time to catch them.
Instead, he fought his way back to the centre, where Amira still stood atop the raised dais and concentrated. The insane woman even had her eyes closed now, but seemed well aware of any ill intent that approached her. Every now and then, surges of power would flare from her and spear someone approaching her in place. Multiple bodies lay at her feet from this, alive but completely unconscious.
Ryuu now danced around her, the black wolf attacking any enemy that got too close with a ferocity that quickly sent them fleeing – or left them too mangled to continue. It caused large pools and sprays of blood to collect with the bodies at Amira’s feet and coated both her and the familiar in viscous red liquid.
Amira’s eyes opened as Damian approached, and her gaze sought him out unerringly.
“Slater and Scarecrow are getting away!” Damian called as he finally broke through the throngs and made it to her side, “I need a way to them!”
Glowing eyes turned towards the doorway he pointed at, and a dangerous look came over her face as she then looked around the room.
“I can clear you a path.”
Damian blinked, surprised and unsure at how Amira would achieve such a thing. But she said she could, so…
“Do it!”
He was further surprised when the small woman stepped closer to him, so close that she pressed up hard against him so she could wind her arms around his torso. Damian stared down at her.
“I don’t really think this is the time to – “
“Take a deep breath.”
Damian immediately shut up and did so. Amira took a deep breath herself, and somehow her eyes glowed even brighter.
It was like a bomb went off. The sudden surge of power was so potent it exploded out from Amira like a physical force, bowling every single being in the hall off their feet.
The incredible force of the blow sent Damian to his knees, and Amira knelt with him, holding him tightly to keep him from falling completely as he struggled to take a breath or even think. He suddenly understood that she had been holding him close to the epicentre, shielding him from the worst of the effects. It still felt like his entire skeleton had been rattled inside his body and the air had been forced from his lungs in the worst winding he’d ever experienced. Every single one of his joints ached and his head felt clouded in ice.
Arms unwrapped from around him, and Amira alone stood in the midst of a battlefield that had instantaneously succumbed to her power. Damian was in awe, and when he was finally able to lift his head to look at her, he stayed kneeling because he almost felt that he must. A hand reached down towards him as she smiled.
“Now is your chance, go and finish this.”
She helped him stand, then pulled him in for a short kiss that conveyed every bit of care and ferocity in her expression. Damian could only hope the intensity of his own gaze said everything he didn’t have the time to, before he turned and ran away.
Every person in that hall had crashed to the ground as he had, and the chaos had stilled with them. While most were at least stirring and trying to push themselves upright again, a large portion had been left either unconscious, too terrified to continue, or throwing up on the floor. Damian could only thank his lucky stars that he was familiar enough with the feel of Amira’s magic that he was able to push himself up faster than the rest of them.
Had the magical bomb extended to Slater and Scarecrow too? Damian wasn’t sure, but it had allowed him a clear shot across the hall to the door they had disappeared out of. He ran around and sometimes straight over sluggishly waking bodies. At first he stumbled on aching and weak legs, but with a notable boost of energy from Ryuu through their bond, he quickly regained his strength to sprint in the direction the mobster and villain had taken.
He found himself in a long hallway that led directly outside, and when Damian burst out of the main doors, he found Scarecrow and Slater on the frosty grass just outside. Both were breathing hard and dragging themselves upright, stumbling as he had moments before. Damian slowed before them and drew his katana, keeping the movement slow as to let the metallic swipe of the blade coming out of its sheath ring through the cool night air.
Both looked up sharply at Damian’s sudden arrival, Scarecrow with fear, and Slater with burning anger.
“Robin,” Slater spat as he at last staggered upright, and his breath puffed white into the darkness, “Your Deathweaver has ruined everything!”
Damian had to smirk, thinking back to the awe-inspiring display Amira had just put on to get him here.
“I think you will find you cannot make someone as powerful as her kneel.”
Scarecrow was backing slowly away, eyes darting towards the side streets and alleyways that weren’t far from them. He had messed with the bats enough times to know when he was beat and was looking for a way out.
“This is more than I bargained for,” He hissed, “I want no more part in this.”
“Coward!” Slater rounded on the villain now, eyes blazing and spittle flying from his mouth. “You came to me! You wanted to be a part of my brilliant future!”
“You’ve failed, Slater,” Damian announced, “You’re done.”
“Have I?” Slater’s eyes suddenly glittered triumphantly, “Do you know all the villains of Gotham want her!? You can’t stop me going to Arkham, and when I get there, I’ll tell every person in earshot who the Deathweaver really is!”
Scarecrow looked back to Slater sharply, in interest, and that told Damian two things. First, that he didn’t know Amira’s identity. Slater had been careful in keeping his cards close to his chest, likely in order to try and keep his power from being usurped. Secondly, if Scarecrow did learn of Amira’s identity, he wouldn’t stop searching for her. Just like likely every villain in Gotham wouldn’t. After already living a lifetime of being shunned, Amira would never have the chance to just live and would forever be on the run.
“I can’t let you do that,” Damian said slowly, and brought his katana up to point it directly at Slater’s chest. The man just laughed loudly, apparently uncaring for the sword directed towards his heart.
“Are you going to kill me?” Slater mocked, “We both know the bats don’t kill, not even for some infatuation over a woman.”
But Scarecrow was taking in Damian’s enraged expression with much more uncertainty, and was starting to inch further away from the spitting man at his side.
Damian knew Slater was wrong. This wasn’t some simple infatuation. And the bats did kill. He had for many years, and the blood from the many murders he had committed over his years as an assassin may as well still be dripping from his hands. He had shunned that life for well over a decade now as he embraced the life of Robin. Justice not vengeance was the mantra his father had installed to help him through the worst of trying to understand his ways.
But what about justice for Amira? She deserved the chance to live free from fear, and there was no way she could do that while Carbine Slater still lived. Damian had promised to protect her, and removing the treat of Slater would do exactly that – in a permanent fashion.
He hesitated. He was torn between his heart and his head, and for the first time in many years, Damian wasn’t sure if he was going to allow the man before him to live.
“You’ll never do it!” Slater’s eyes were crazy with early triumph and spittle flew from his mouth, “Not even to save the woman you – huh?”
“There he is!”
Damian heard Dave’s loud cry from behind him and heard the thud of many feet approaching behind him. But he didn’t deviate from his position and instead watched as Slater’s crazed defiance and early victory turned again to fear.
Without warning, Scarecrow suddenly turned and sprinted away, and Slater took that cue to also race away in a different direction. Instinctively, Damian took his first step after Scarecrow, knowing he couldn’t let the villain get away, but he hesitated again, and his second step never came. Slater was the lesser threat to Gotham, but not to Amira. Who to go after should have been an easy decision.
It was anything but.
He wasted precious seconds debating his course of action, but the decision was ultimately taken out of his hands. A group of five ghosts – Dave at their head – sprinted past him after Slater while yelling at the top of their lungs.
Damian turned and ran after Scarecrow.
He was quick to make up the ground, and with a flying kick, brought the villain crashing to the ground. He was quick to make use of a sleeping dart, then trussed the doctor up anyway in case he should wake. Deciding that would be good enough, Damian began to drag the unconscious body back towards where the group of ghosts stood over Slater.
It wasn’t until he got closer that he realised the restraint the ghosts had used on every other member of the Grey Hawks had not been extended to the gang’s boss; they were still pummelling away on an unmoving body. Damian let go of Scarecrow, letting him thump unceremoniously to the ground, and ran towards the group.
“Stop! That’s enough!”
He pushed through the group as they stepped back and crouched down next to the now still and battered body, pressing fingers to the carotid pulse. It became quickly obvious that Carbine Slater was already dead.
“Robin!”
A familiar call had him looking back across the field to see Amira and Ryuu striding towards him across the frosty grass. The pair was covered in even more blood than he had last seen, and a large contingent of ghosts followed her, lurching from their many injuries even though they couldn’t feel them. She soon grew near enough to speak.
“The fighting is finished,” Amira reported, “The ghosts have rounded up all the Grey Hawk members and have started rifling through Slater’s office for – oh.”
She came to a sudden stop as she saw the unmoving bloodied mess lying on the grass at his feet.
“Is… is that him?”
Damian watched as her eyes stayed on Slater for a long moment before at last lifting to his. All he saw shining in their still-glowing depths was relief.
“Scarecrow is unconscious a little that way,” Damian gestured vaguely, and Amira followed the movement to peer over at the unconscious person slumped on the grass. “He doesn’t know your identity.”
Amira looked between the two criminals at their feet for a moment longer before her staggered gaze lifted again to Damian’s.
“So it is finally over,” She mused aloud, and her words were quiet, as if she were testing the truth of them. Damian pulled her dagger from his belt and offered it to her, and her eyes lit up on seeing it.
“Yes,” He said with finality as he drew himself up to his full height, “It is.”
Amira looked back to him, and their gazes clashed with shared relief and triumph as the moment finally came. After his failure months ago, further months in safehouses, after running for their lives and coming too close to death for comfort multiple times; Slater was dead, and a massive portion of the gang were incapacitated inside the compound.
The Grey Hawk Gang was well and truly defeated.
A car screeching around the corner had them and the growing crowd of ghosts tensing and preparing for another fight, and Damian had a singular moment of alarm in which he wondered just what Arkham escapee had found them, before he recognised the Batmobile behind the bright headlights.
It screeched to a halt not far from them, quickly followed by a host of motorcycles belonging to other members of the family. The hood of the Batmobile popped back and Batman leapt out and began a slow walk over, his gaze carefully sweeping over the scene as he neared. He eventually came to a stop a few paces in front of him, but Damian waited silently for his Father to finish his assessments of what he saw.
Bruce’s eyes flicked briefly towards the body at his feet, then to the bloodied hands of the ghosts surrounding him. Apparently deciding that was enough evidence that his son hadn’t committed a murder tonight, his gaze moved on. He would never know just how close he had been.
Slowly, his siblings lined up behind Bruce, each staring around with wide eyes. Damian could only imagine what they saw.
Damian himself was covered in blood and still slowly weeping injuries, but he held himself with more strength than one should for someone who had been so clearly tortured. Amira stood shoulder to shoulder with him, eyes still glowing brightly as her hair and coat flowed around her with the caressing shadows. She was also covered in blood, though none of it appeared to be hers, and she held a dagger that was clearly of League origin. Next to them stood a massive black wolf with red-tinged saliva drooling from its mouth. Its glowing amber eyes were distinctly inhuman, and it too writhed with hints of the same shadows that clung to Amira.
Behind them was an army, nearly fifty people in varying states of injury. Many sported fatal gunshot and knife wounds that didn’t show a single sign of bleeding. Some were missing limbs, some had organs falling out of them. One had a machete sticking out of their head. They all stood impossibly still and silent, simply watching without a hint of pain.
At Damian’s feet, the deceased leader of the Grey Hawk Gang. Further to the side, a trussed-up and unconscious Scarecrow.
Finally, Bruce looked back to Damian.
“It looks like you’ve done good work here.”
Damian felt Amira wind her fingers through his, and he smiled.
Chapter 35: The Demon and the Witch: A Familiar’s Point of View
Chapter Text
RYUU
Ryuu enjoyed its perch on Damian’s shoulder. He was tall enough to provide a good vantage point for most events and was warm enough to be comfortable. But this afternoon, Ryuu had been kicked off its perch while Damian painted. The familiar had been happy to curl up on a cushion atop a nearby stool instead, and it watched through slitted eyes.
Damian had spent hours on this latest painting, and of interest to Ryuu was the lens through which he viewed an event that Ryuu had been present for.
The painting was of Amira standing over the recent battlefield against the Grey Hawk Gang. Ryuu could see the intention of the painting clearly. Amira’s eyes were alight with the brilliance of life, even as she brought destruction to those around her as death walked among them. But the real curiosity was how Damian painted himself, kneeling at Amira’s side and refusing to look away or rise, even as she outstretched a hand down towards him in offer.
As the painting was finally finished, Damian rose to place it aside to dry. But it was left in a rarely used corner where Amira herself was unlikely to see it. Ryuu wondered at the attempt to hide it.
Does the Robin believe himself to be inferior to the Seer? Ryuu asked at last.
Damian didn’t look over as he answered.
“She’s something special, Ryuu,” His voice was even. “I doubt there’s any who could compare.”
Curious, Ryuu rose and circled on the stool a few times to try and gain the man’s attention, at last letting out a demanding meow when it was initially ignored. Damian gave an annoyed snort that was more for show, and came close enough that Ryuu could claw up his arm to finally take its place on his shoulder. Its gaze didn’t waver from the painting as Damian continued cleaning up. Memories of past lives and places flashed through its mind, brought up by the scene before it.
It has been many years since we have been present at a battle like this.
Ryuu felt Damian pause briefly in surprise at the comment.
“Yeah?” Damian now turned to look over his painting again, “What battles have you been in?”
Too many to count, Ryuu rumbled, its mind turning to the past. We spent much time in Japan. We enjoyed the wars and battles of the samurai.
“The samurai?” Damian was definitely surprised. “Is that how you got your name?”
We have always been Ryuu, even long before their time.
Damian merely hummed and began to gather the last of his painting supplies to return them to the cupboard, but Ryuu could feel the man’s intense curiosity burning through their bond.
We have always been larger than ourself, Ryuu allowed the curiosity to be fulfilled. In the past we have needed many bonds to sustain us, and this was often done by attaching to an army. Ryuu could lead them to victory, bolster morale, and fight alongside them in many forms. The samurai were a favourite of our kind, they fought with a rare honour.
Although, Ryuu had to admit to itself that fighting alongside the heir to the League of Assassins was also an enjoyable experience. His bloodlust matched its own, despite his careful control of the feeling, and the man fought with skill that Ryuu had not seen in centuries.
Damian continued to put away the last of his supplies, but Ryuu could feel his heavy attention.
“There are not many samurai left,” He pointed out.
Most of our kind returned to the Earth to embrace the Final Sleep as their kind died out.
Damian frowned down at Ryuu, “But you didn’t?
Ryuu came to Gotham to do the same after wandering the world for many years and finding little of continuing interest. Then we felt new power and found its source in a small girl.
Understanding lit the green of Damian’s eyes, “Amira.”
The Seer sustains us. The Seer has made Ryuu more powerful than any of our kind has been in many centuries.
“Hence why you only need the one bond,” Damian realised. He went silent for a while, and Ryuu could feel he was thinking hard. At last, a small jolt of humour came through their bond, even though the frown did not change.
“I bet you didn’t expect you would see so much bloodshed again at her side.”
It was enjoyable to taste victory once more. Ryuu was certain Damian would feel the lingering satisfaction through their bond, and knew he would understand the enjoyment of a battle won. Ryuu will always fight for the Seer and the Robin that she cares for. And when the Seer’s short life is over, we will then return to the Earth.
Previously, having many bonds at once had never allowed the eldritch being to get much sense for those on the other end of it. Only if there was a large general consensus of thought could Ryuu gather the emotions of those it was attached to. It had allowed Ryuu to survive the bond’s severance after the last of its bonded soldiers fell in battle.
The bond with Amira was different. Ryuu wasn’t used to feeling and understanding what one lone woman felt. But Ryuu had become protective of the small girl with a fierce drive to survive, and it felt kinship in understanding the deep longing for more from life. Ryuu had long learned to truly care for the Seer and had silently vowed to stay at her side until she one day passed.
Damian did not reply to Ryuu’s final words, but he reached up to scratch its head, and the small kitten leaned into the contact with a purr. It could feel Damian was in agreement with its need to protect. The Robin would be a keen ally in this pursuit.
“Shall we go and see her?” Damian offered.
They made their way through the large sprawling Manor that was now officially home to the Seer, and they ended up outside in the gardens. Amira sat on a bench with her back to them and her head bent to read from a book in her lap. As they neared, they could hear her speaking quietly.
“…So Sam planted saplings in all the places where specially beautiful or beloved trees had been destroyed, and he put a grain of the precious dust in the soil at the root of each,” Her voice was soft and serene, and completed a picture of tranquillity in the amber light of a fading sun that cast long shadows across the sprawling gardens. “He went up and down the Shire in his labour; but if he – Oh, hello.”
Amira looked up as Damian approached and smiled wide on seeing them both.
“Right, time to move.” She addressed the space at her sides, and Ryuu realised she had likely been reading to the ghosts that had also taken up more permanent residence here.
Damian paused long enough to allow whatever beings had been sitting to move, before taking a spot at Amira’s side. She leaned into him without hesitance and reached up to pet Ryuu’s head in greeting.
“What’s the update from Bruce?” Amira asked as she marked her page and closed the book.
With a growing smirk, Damian reached out an arm to drape it loosely over her shoulders. She shuffled in closer as he replied.
“The Grey Hawk Gang has fully disbanded,” He reported with no shortage of satisfaction, “Gotham PD found enough evidence on scene to put almost every member captured into prison. There’s not enough room for them all in Gotham, so a lot of them are going elsewhere in the country.”
Amira started smiling as well, “That’s good news.”
“There’s more,” Damian glanced down at her, “There was a lot of paperwork in Slater’s office, and lucky for us, he was careful to keep his records neat. Turns out a foreign interest wanting in on a Gotham Harbour project was funding the Grey Hawks. Bruce had been stalling talks at Wayne Industries with them while he found enough evidence to make the link.”
“So that’s why they were always hiding out in warehouses?”
“Exactly, plus the large company kept them well funded and armed. They’ve been traced back to Hong Kong, so Cass has called in some contacts over there to take over on that end.”
Amira’s grin grew on hearing it, “And Slater?”
“Well, the police weren’t ready to accept that an army of ghosts were the main reason for his downfall until Tim showed them the camera footage,” Damian raised an eyebrow as he looked down at Amira, “Apparently there were a couple of fainters.”
She laughed at that, and Ryuu felt a flash of pride. Its bonded charge was dangerous and terrifying despite her small stature, it was pleased when she revelled in that.
Damian continued, “Jason’s reported the other gangs are locking up tight now as well. It seems the sudden and complete downfall of such a notorious gang has them running scared.” His arm around Amira tightened, “Meanwhile, Tim and Steph have been watching all the police interviews with the gang members. They’ve confirmed that no one knew your name outside of Slater. The ones that name you only do so as the Deathweaver.”
Amira blinked up at him, looking stunned. “That’s good. But… so many of them have seen me. Can’t they give a description?”
“You also can’t trust eyewitness accounts,” The hint of a smile played at Damian’s mouth, and Ryuu felt his humour rise. “Your descriptions from the interviews range from short with black hair and blue eyes, to tall with tentacles and glowing holes where your eyes should be.”
Amira’s mouth dropped, “Tentacles??”
“I can only assume they got a glimpse of the shadows.”
Damian’s mouth twitched, but it was only when Amira burst into loud, ringing laughter that he let himself chuckle as well. They eventually quietened, and Damian spoke again.
“Father doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself,” Inwardly, Ryuu could tell Damian was laughing still, even if his expression no longer showed his amusement. “With all the villains back in Arkham and the gangs playing nice, this is the quietest Gotham has been in years.”
“Well, maybe he can enjoy some family time,” Amira pointed out.
Now Damian’s face shadowed with new realisation, “Hmm.”
Amira shifted to stare up at him, “What is it?”
Damian grunted in irritation, “The last time things were quiet, he satisfied his inner detective by inserting himself into his children’s lives instead.”
“And that’s bad…?”
“Yes, it’s bad,” Damian’s frown was quickly turning into a scowl. “We’re the most interesting thing that’s happened around here in years, except for Dick’s kid. He’s not going to give us a moments peace!”
Amira was laughing heartily again, leaning into Damian’s side for support.
“It’s not funny.” His tone was petulant, but he could no longer hide his smile. “Maybe you can explore your powers a bit more?” He was clearly trying to come up with an attempt to redirect his father, “I’m sure he’d be interested in looking more into that amulet and how that can be used?”
Amira’s laughter quietened and her tone turned sympathetic, “The amulet is broken, Damian.”
That surprised him, “Huh?”
“Yeah,” Amira grimaced, “I looked it over after the showdown with the Grey Hawks and it’s pretty heavily cracked. Zatanna is worried it’s too unstable to use again. It seems too much magic went through it over that time to handle.”
“Oh,” Damian thought for a moment, “Can’t she make another one?”
Amira shrugged, “Probably, but it sounds like quite the process.” She fell silent, but when a finger began to twist through her hair, it indicated to Ryuu and Damian that she was turning something over in her mind. At last, she mentioned, “She’s invited me to the House of Mystery, by the way.”
Damian rolled his eyes, “Yes, she told me she would.”
“You don’t approve?” Amira frowned up at him.
“I think Constantine is a dickhead,” Damian huffed. But on seeing Amira’s hopeful expression turn onto him and silently beg, he sighed and admitted grudgingly, “However… It would likely be helpful to look into your powers some more.”
Amira grinned, “Thanks, Damian.”
Ryuu was amused at the Seer’s easy manipulation of the Robin. The spark of humour earned it a sharp look from the man before Amira stole their attention once more.
“You know I think it was my visions that brought me to you.”
Damian looked back to Amira in surprise.
“You came to me to help me defeat the Grey Hawks?”
She hummed as she thought, “I think so.”
“Think so?”
Amira took in Damian with a serious expression, “That was what I assumed. Of course, I don’t know fate’s design, but Zatanna mentioned something…” She trailed off and lifted a shoulder in a half shrug, “I can’t help but wonder if there was more to this.”
Damian was staring at her incredulously, and Ryuu felt his curling unease at the idea that his future might be predetermined.
“Such as?” He prompted.
But at last Amira smiled, and she lifted her head to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“I found you.”
Damian huffed but failed to smother a smile, “Well, I can’t fault destiny for that.”
But Ryuu could feel that Amira thought there was something larger at play. It settled further over Damian’s shoulder and wondered at fate and destiny, and how it seemed to intermingle with not only Amira’s powers, but her future. Perhaps even Ryuu had been called to her side by something more than coincidence. With as long as Ryuu had lived, it couldn’t rule it out.
Furthermore, Ryuu recalled when Amira told it about the first prophecy she had ever spoken, back when she had been too young to remember. The Old Gods watch and await her destiny. Ryuu wondered if the old Egyptian Gods she prayed to expected something more from her, something much bigger than merely helping to take down a street gang.
Perhaps the Grey Hawks would be far from the biggest threat these two would face.
“What do we do now?”
Amira’s question drew Ryuu back to the present, and it too turned to face the setting sun that was bleeding brilliant pinks and oranges across the sky as it set.
“We live,” Damian answered simply. “With no worries, free from threat.”
“I don’t know how to do that,” Amira whispered, and Damian turned to look down at her, green eyes intense.
“Neither do I,” He admitted quietly.
Amira drew in a deep breath, held it, and let it out slowly.
“Then we figure it out together,” She said, and her voice held all the hope she had for a better future.
Damian’s eyes shone as he heard it, and he dropped his forehead to rest it against Amira’s.
“Together.”
Ryuu could feel the bright happiness between the two as they rested like that, basking in the other’s company. The happiness still held an undertone of relief and uncertainty. It was as if both were so conditioned to having things go wrong, that to have found each other and now be able to live their lives together without threat hanging over their heads was almost too good to be true. Ryuu knew they would only need time for them to come to accept this goodness for what it was.
Despite Ryuu’s enjoyment of fighting and death and chaos, for the first time in its many centuries, it too found itself hoping this peace might last.
The small kitten reached out to place a paw on Amira’s shoulder, linking itself to both of its bonded pair, and it’s loud, happy purr made them both smile.
Notes:
I cannot thank you all enough for coming on this journey with me.
I adore you all for the amazing comments, the kudos, the bookmarks, and just for having a read. The support means so much as a writer, it’s been such a boost to my every week to read the kind comments and see people are enjoying my work. Writing this was so fun, I love exploring Damian as an adult and all there is to his character, and I adore Amira and how complex she is as well.
In fact, I enjoyed writing this so much that I’m going to make it a trilogy (surprise!). I did give it away way back – but I’m part of the way through writing the next instalment :) I’ll be done sometime in 2025 – I won’t narrow it down any more than that because I know I’ll stress so much about a deadline that I stop working lol, it’s also looking to be quite a bit longer! But I’ll make this fic part of a series once I start getting those new chapters out. Next book is:
The Vigilante, the Seer, and the Challenge of the Gods.
This fic will also feature Damian and Amira and will touch on so much more: Introducing Amira into Damian’s world of society. More Batfamily dynamics. Looking further into Amira’s origins of power. The big question mark around how Talia is going to react to all this. And ‘love’ as a terrifying thing to finally voice. There’s going to be some plot around all that somewhere I promise.
Of course, more fluff, angst, and fun with a dash of smut to come.
Happy holidays to you all, I would love to hear your final thoughts and comments!!
Love you all, and thank you again <3
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