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daydreamsandcrashingwaves · 4 months

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Keeping It Close To The Chest (KICTTC) pt. 2

Wow, I really was inspired! It really warms my heart that so many people enjoyed it as well! Again I Frankensteined this together as parts of it came to my brain, then connected them all. I swear I shuffled things like 5 times.

Be safe, make good choices

TW/CW: Child abuse, child murder, death, child death (Danny), Shock/ptsd symptoms, Guilt/ self-blame, Child warriors/soldiers, blood, familial abuse/ neglect

~~~ IF I MISSED A TAG please let me know, I want everyone to be able to make the informed choice that is best for them! ~~~

Here is part one in case you missed it!

Part three Part four

Happy holidays my friends :3

~Ren

One two three four five six. In. Hold.

The air in the bat cave was chilly. As usual.

One two three four five. Out. Again.

Usually, moisture clung to Damian’s skin and clothes. Today it seemed harsh and dry like even the cave was voicing its displeasure and passing judgement. It added to his melancholy and nostalgia.

One two three four five six. In. Hold

His first week in Gotham the rain had been coming down in heavy sheets, he had never seen a storm quite as wild before. He had felt small standing on the Wayne manor doorstep next to Mother, with the wind and rain whipping around them, cradling them in water. He shivered at the memory. Damian had only known the weather in Nanda Parbat, being so close to Ladakh the weather alternated between dry and hot to freezing temperatures in the winter. True downpours were rare due to where the base had been built.

One two three four five. Out. Again

The nights were long and cold. Their room only outfitted with bare essentials, had none of the comfort he had now. Damian can still recall how his little body would shiver and shake no matter how hard he tried to still it. Many winter nights under the protection of the dark, Danny would cross their room to slip under his covers. Two little bodies next to each other, the warmth soothing their bruises and sore muscles while they watched the snow drift down from the window.

One two three four five six. In. Hold

Damian was not in shock as Tim may have suggested. No. He would never fall so far that emotional distress would prevent him from what must be done. The nervous tick to his heart was because of his worry for Danyal. Damian had only accepted the heat reflective blanket so Father would leave him be. He clutched the edges in an attempt to refocus. He cannot remember who dragged the plush chair into the batcave but he supposed being comfortable while waiting for Danyal to wake was acceptable. Damian also grudgingly could admit to himself, they were kind to place it so he maintained visual on his little brother.

One two three four five. Out. Again

Danyal’s blood had stained his costume. Green and red, Damian’s colors but now, well. He’d start by asking Alfred to take a look, see if it could be cleaned but maybe it was time to follow in his sibling’s footsteps and completely change his armor out for something that didn’t threaten to drive him to his knees.

One two three four five six. In. Hold

He wanted to be clean, so he'd be allowed in Danyal's room, but he was stuck where he was. Some parts of his clothes were wet still, other less saturated parts were dry and itchy and uncomfortable. He idly scratched at some, and then abruptly stopped when the flakes caught under his nails. He’d have to talk with Danny about why it seemed his green blood tingled against his skin.

One two three four five. Out. Again

( He would bite his tongue though, he's not so dense to miss the fact that prying is glaringly rude, and he doesn't want to give his brother anymore reasons to run from him. Even if he wondered why Danyal's blood smells like rotting food and sweaty locker room with a touch of something he couldn't name. It was a nauseating combination instead of the iron he has grown used to.)

One two three four five six. In. Hold

Toxic green it was always that blasted bright green. Grandfather lived as long as he did due to the pits, the pits brought Jason back, now Danyal was affected, and he had no idea what to do. He was scared. He was so sacred.

One two three four five. Out. Again

"Heyy Bud, maybe it's time to change and shower?" Richard's voice comes from behind where Damian slumped. Damian allows a quick glance at his eldest brother, before he turns his gaze back to Danny's prone form on the bed.

No, he hadn't flinched at the sudden noise, he obviously knew Richard was approaching his seat. Even if his brother is eyeing him with that look like he knows what Damian is thinking. Damian bites his cheek until he splits the skin. Which he can't. He can try to understand because of his experiences with Jason's death, but. Danny was Damian's twin. His other half, they had always been together. Richard can't possibly understand the guilt he carried for not realizing Danny's plan when he realized something had changed the look in his twin's eye, or how ashamed he is for the sliver of pride he felt afterwards when Grandfather handed Damian with his personal kodachi, a blade every member had coveted. How it felt like betrayal that he had thrived in the League those five years after Danyal's death.

He doesn't know what that's like to lose an intrinsic part of you. He had a family before being adopted by Father. The Wayne's had been allowed to stop for Jason's death. Dick had been allowed to mourn his little brother, to erect a grave to sit with. Damian only had had Danyal and then he died, and Damian was never able to speak of Danyal again until now. Hell, Grandfather was pleased to have taught Damian a lesson on rooting out weakness. He regrets not trying to bring life to those memories he cherishes.

Damian's frustrated with himself, the small movement was meant to be a reach for one of the knives that are still lining his body. Inescapable evidence he is balancing precariously on a knife's edge. Evidence Richard is no doubt started collecting the minute he had realized Damian recognized him. A fierce scowl finds its way onto Damian's face as he clenches the material of his pants between his fists. He wants to scream. If he were Jason, he'd snort at his brother's insistence in taking Bruce's place when he glitches over big emotions, when inevitably hides from his children until he's done processing.

Damian doesn't say anything though for a couple minutes, he knows Richard is caring and kind but the idea of talking about feelings with his sappiest brother has Damian suppressing a shutter. He doesn't want to talk about any of this, even if he knows his grace period to collect his thoughts is running out quickly.

"I'll stay with him while you're gone." Richard offers quietly, "Babybat, please?"

The name hasn't bothered Damian in years but now it has him seething and baring his teeth. "Do not call me that Grayson." Damian has never been the baby of the family, that spot has always been Danny's.

No one has questioned his prickly disposition since his arrival or knows why he hates their pet names or where and he disappears on his birthday. They dismissed it with condescending smiles, ruling it as him finally acting like a child, more anger, less murder. Like throwing a tantrum over a ripped toy. How has he managed to fool a family of crime fighting detectives?... He's the superior son of course. The sentiment rings hollow, if they don't know it's because they didn't bother to ever really get know Damian past his carefully constructed front. Truly, Damian thought, a ten-year-old fooling all of the Bats and Wings is ridiculous. Damian is stubborn to a fault and decided if they think his grief is equal to an upset child, well he wasn't going to point it out for them. It took Danyal dropping from the sky for them to realize, there was more to Damian than they knew.

Grayson is watching him carefully now, but his posture remains open, relaxed, his warm smile still firmly in place. Even if Damian knows the tightness at the corners indicates his rising anxiety. Damian still wants to break those perfect teeth of his.

This isn't easy for him, why would he make it easier for them.

Instead of acting on his impulse to maim, he paces closer to the glass, allowing himself to remember their childhood, Danny had burned brightly in the darkness the League surrounded itself in -too brightly- and ultimately snuffed out. Danny was all enthusiastic questions, witty remarks and freely given smiles. He had intended to tell Father about his dead twin, had been preparing how to report the situation just right in the time it took to travel from Nanda Parbat to Gotham with Mother, surely Father would let him speak of Danyal, even once would have been enough.

The whole point of Mother sending him away to live with Father was to get him away from the League and Grandfather's influence. Away from his wretched rules that prevented him from honor Danyal as he should. Mother had tried to hide her emotions away but when Grandfather had started talking about Damian like he did Danny those last few months and -well, Damian was an excellent assassin being the son of Talia Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne; two of the most resourceful people out there- he knew what her fear looked like in the forced steadiness of her hand as she lead him away, the sorrow in her brow. He knew his Grandfather would soon order him dead as well.

Mother had him pack his bag and took him to Father, one twin lighter than planned. His Father was nothing as expected. Damian had imagined someone like Mother, always calm and collected, her icy displeasure, her quiet pride. Batman was close to expectation, Bruce Wayne on the other hand was loud, emotive, emotionally compromised. Damian would've shrunk under his Father's attention that first meeting if not for his rigorous training. Anger, guilt, resentment all flew around the room. He kept the secret of his twin buried where it couldn't hurt anyone; he had seen Father's reaction to Damian, nothing good would happen if he told Bruce. The detective would surely push and pry until their secrets lay at his feet, once a mystery was presented to him Batman would stay on it until he was satisfied with the answers. The destruction would only be regretted in the aftermath.

It was demeaning to allow his new family to think he lacked in his training but for those first few months with Danny saturating his thoughts Damian would turn to where Danyal would be at his elbow, would open his mouth to whisper in Arabic to share their secrets like they used to or he would leave his blind spots wide open, shame and grief had warred inside him for a long time. Damian had loved his little brother with everything he had and then he was gone- killed by his own hand at his Grandfather's request. The Waynes had given him this new family with assorted siblings overnight, and itmade him breathless to acknowledge that Danyal would never thrive in this warmth.

(Danny had been a mischievous child, witty and too smart for his own good to the frustration of their teachers. Even if he fell short in martial arts and weapons training compared to his older brother, he was better at blending quietly into the shadows. The twins shared a fierce protectiveness between them of course but Danyal? Danyal was creative, had an inherent genius for tricks and traps. Danny who cried in their room after a mission but did not hesitate with those who disrespected Damian. The only evidence their teachers would find was the self-satisfied look on Danny's face, much to their anger. With no evidence to show Grandfather they were forced to be content with pushing them harder until one of them collapsed and then took glee in punishing the one who fell behind. (No matter how much Damian helped with Danyal's sword swings or his forms, his twin rarely beat him in a straight fight.)

Danyal would crawl into his bed those nights seeking his twin's warmth in the cool desert night, and he'd fix Damian with this blazing look before shying away, moving his attention to Damian's hands he would trace every scar and callous until Damian drifted to sleep. Danyal would wake him before their trainer arrived and they'd steal a few quiet moments for themselves.

(The only time Damian woke before Danyal their hands were still between them entwined, his little hand was clutched tight-like Danyal was afraid of it being snatched away. Damian gave a little squeeze back and Danny's eyes fluttered open. When he saw Damian next to him his face stretched into Danny's true smile, soft, shy and sweet. A smile for Damian alone. He has started to forget what it looked like.)

Damian had been adrift in this new world away from the strict dogma the League required. The new rules he was expected to live by now were so different, he constantly wished Danyal was here for Damian to find some familiarity in. He was on an uncontrolled spiral those first months until he had given in to Richard's soft support. It had stung at first, to receive the affection that only Danny had given him in the past.

Richard was the one who noticed he was spending his free time sketching, dragged him out of the manor to give him his first bound sketchbook with charcoal and had beamed proudly the first time Damian allowed him to see it being used. Damian knew just how hard his brother loved their family, loved him. It was the only reason Damian quelled the urge to stab him, even if it was extremely tempting.

No, he must be intentional now. Strong in the face of what is sure to be murky doubt at Damian's claims. Tim had tried to run a paternity test with the blood from one of Danny's bandages Alfred had discarded- it came back with an error message about twenty minutes ago, but Tim was nowhere to be found. If he can bring Richard over to their side before the rest of their siblings or their father push their way into the batcave for answers, he'd manage to keep things relatively neutral while he argued his case.

Damian takes a deep breath strengthening his resolve. This is for Danyal, he will not misstep now with so much on the line.

If Damian fails to convince them, he will take Danny and run. Between the two of them no one would be able to find them unless they wished it to be so.

“Damian…” Dick says his name carefully, with as much feeling as he can, because he knows the shock of having his brother rise from the grave you buried him in. He aches that one of his siblings ever had to go through what he did. “ I think someone should be with you while we wait for him to wake up.”

The sneer of disgust that overtakes Damian’s face at his words was expected and how familiar it was had Dick shoving aside the burst of fondness that it caused, and he cuts Damian off before he delivers what surely is a scathing reply.

“I know you want to be by Danyal’s side, and I can see how much you love him…" Dick clears his throat when it threatens to close, he has to keep talking because this isn't just about Damian, this is about their baby brother that looked terrified under Damian's gaze in the warehouse. "You saw his injuries; I’m worried with how scared he was earlier Danyal may injure himself more if he feels overwhelmed.”

Damian’s eyes closed tightly against the agony that shot through his chest. He knew that. He didn’t need Richard’s reminder. For Danny to look at Damian with such terror, pleading with him- Damian has never hated himself more. He has no doubt this is truly Danyal, Damian knows clones don't carry scars, scars show the life you've lived, it's unique no way to replicate it. They were all there just like Damian remembered.

As heir Damian had to be cold and merciless in the League, he was used to those around him being afraid of his capabilities, of how easily he could snuff out their lives, at one point he had been proud of his Grandfather’s smile when he had heard his four-year-old grandson had taken down his trainer with ease. He had never been that way with Danyal, distant sure, he had to be under the League.

But now that he’s been away, had a chance to meet so many people he knew better. He never felt as alone as he does now, Dick besides him and Danyal resting close by. He never wanted to cause his brother such pain. Richard could be right, he was much more knowledgeable on feelings than Damian, who still stumbles on the finer intricacies of societal interactions. He.. He would do anything for his little brother and if that meant sending him far away from here, Damian would do it. Would help him escape Batman and Bruce Wayne who were both annoyingly persistent. The others.. he could convince, he had enough blackmail stored away for an important favor. It was enough knowing Danyal was alive.

(No. He’s lying to himself. He’s so close to unraveling but will grit and bare it. It’s his responsibility, he always will look after Danyal. No matter the personal cost. He can practically feel Richard’s devastation from here; he’s sure his older brother is desperate to make this better, however he can. Damian won’t let him. He deserves Danyal’s fear, he was a murderer masquerading as a boy. A boy who in this moment aches to hold his little brother close like when they were kids. Beg his forgiveness and sob and marvel because his fear makes this real, his brother is alive. If Damian believed in miracles this would be his.)

He cannot afford to lose this head with Danny vulnerable in the next room, so he breathes a long breath through his nose again stubbornly not looking at Richard, keeps his eyes on his baby brother, watches his strange breathing rhythm raise and lower the sheets in reassurance his twin is still with him and turns his body towards Richard, a small concession.

"Danyal is my little brother, my twin." It's said slowly, Damian carefully controlled his tone, flat, to the point. Damian just had to get this report out, "When we were five Grandfather ordered that I lay claim my title as heir."

From the corner of his eye Damian can see Richard's smile tighten with tension in an effort to keep it there, now that Damian has started though he pushes past the guilt that has haunted him to finish, " I was superior in martial arts and weapons handling but I was too rigid, Danyal- he" Damian's throat is tight, like there is a rock in his throat, and he clears it quickly. "We excelled when we were together, he took to the things I had not. I knew I'd be Heir, being the eldest grandson. But-" He chokes and Richard makes an aborted motion to touch him. Thankfully he waits.

"But I knew he'd be my Shadow; We'd rule together as soon as I took my place at as the Demon Head... Until Grandfather made us duel." To the death goes unsaid but Damian could see the horrible realization breaking across Richard's face, so he turned his head to look at where the bats nest was among the stalactites. He could make out their mass if he looked hard enough. "Danyal threw himself onto my sword and I killed the person I promised to protect!" Damian pauses, and whispers into the air between them. "There was so much blood." It wavers in his mouth but doesn't break.

The truth burns as it's coming out. Damian got all the big things into the open, now he allows himself to fall into his elder brother's arms and weep. All his pain and regret soaking Richard's shoulder. His body is still sitting with Richard, but Damian is back in a time filled with sharp strikes, where punishment was to be embraced. Swords against whetstones. Legacies to be molded. Damian can hear the whoosh of leather through the air and on cold nights the scars on his back ache.

Damian shivers now in Richard's hold his breath clouding the space between them. Damian shoots straight out of Richard's arms as soon as he realizes it's not just his breath that's visible. The cave had gone from chilly to freezing in a flash. The temperature in the warehouse had dropped too, right before his twin came tumbling out of the sky. Something is wrong. In the time Damian had looked away something had begun to stir in the recovery room. The once steady if slow beating of his twin's heart now resembles an average heartbeat.

Energy pulses. Biting wind almost takes their feet off the ground. The lights burst, raining glass from the ceiling. Richard throws an arm around Damain and pulls him into one of those springy twists only he could do that brings them under some cover.

A shadow writhes in the dark of the recovery room and Damian struggles to free himself from Richard's grip. "Danyal!" He's becoming desperate. Danyal has to be alright. Damian cannot handle losing his baby brother again. Richard stays firm. "Let me go! Please he could be hurt." His voice cracks over the plead, he feels small. Small and helpless. Two things he swore that day he would never give into again.

Running out of patience Damian swipes at him with a blade and when Richard yelps and releases his arm he rolls, pushing into a sprint once he drops. Only to stop cold a few feet from the door. Peeking up at him from the side of Danyal's bed are solid glowing green eyes.

Part Three 01/06/2024

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