Link: Dear Younger Me, It's Not Your Fault
Summary: Damian gets blasted into a future where he's living his best life, and not to mention married. He doesn't think he deserves any of it. Future Damian and Jon help his think otherwise.
for super sons week bonus day 2: Magic and Mayhem
“Aw, I almost forgot how cute you were as a little kid, Dami! I just wanna squish his cheeks-”
“Tt, control yourself, Jonathan, if he’s as old as I think he is, he will not hesitate to chop your arm off if you so much as breathe in his direction.”
The child’s head was swimming, the two voices muffled as if he were underwater. He had a vague memory of being set on a bed, warm blue eyes setting him down and startled green hues tucking him in with the blanket still currently wrapped around him.
Instinctively, his hand went to the knife that was usually on the side of his hip. He grimaced as he realized even his most hidden weapons had been taken.
Mother would be so ashamed of him, if she were to learn that he had been taken in so easily, not to mention the failure of hiding weapons.
He sat up, struggling a bit, but managing to open his eyes, squinting as they adjusted to the light.
He was in a room, the bed set in front of a fireplace. The walls were beige, accents of gold and deep green painted along the sides. It was then he took notice of the figure in front of him. He blamed his disorientated brain on missing the key factors of the room.
(“Excuses.” Grandfather would spit.)
The person (?) was draped in a color matching the forest of the walls, poking the fire and making it leap to life.
Spotting a pair of scissors left on the bedside table, he carefully picked them up, moving to get up and sneak towards the figure.
“I know you’re awake.” The voice seemed more amused than dangerous, a discreet accent in the words.
The child startled, pushing the covers off and pointing the scissors at the person.
“Where am I? Who are you?”
He got his answer as the person stood, turning to face the child. He wore an outfit similar to a thawb, deep green with gold accents. There was a gold cuff earring on his left ear, covering it and connecting to a dangling chain in his lobe. His skin was a caramel tone, tanned and weathered through the years. His hair was a soft brown, brushed but without gel. The eyes that met his held pain and trauma behind them, but were kind.
(Kinder than his, he thought to himself bitterly.)
“You are safe here, please refrain from stabbing me with the scissors, although I doubt it would be an easy task.”
Damian opened his mouth to speak, but was immediately cut off.
‘’I assume you’ve already come to the conclusion that this is the future, and please be assured that we are working to send you back to your own time. You will most likely have all memories of this visit erased from your mind, therefore I will tell you that you are in my house, and the only other person is my partner, who is in the kitchen at the moment.”
His older counterpart moved to sit on the bed, and the younger scowled.
“I expected us to be taller.” were the first words out of his mouth.
The older one snickered, muffling his laughter with a hand to his mouth.
“Well, so did I. It's both hard and useful, you’ll get over it in due time, I promise.”
The door was kicked open, a much taller man carrying a tray with tea and toast on it. Both looked over in surprise, the smaller Damian immediately launching the pair of scissors at him.
To his surprise and Older Damian’s amusement, it bounced off his skin, bending as it did so and landing against the wall.
The raven-haired man grinned, dropping the tray on the bedside table.
“He’s so defensive and tiny!”
An angry flush came over his cheeks, but instead of a retort, he asked incredulously, “Kent??”
“Aww, we’re still in that stage!” Jon cooed. “He must have just met me.”
“Do not patronize me, Farmboy!” Younger Damian spat.
Jonn squealed again, making grabby hands. “Look at how absolutely adorable you were bossing me around!”
“Do try not to antagonize him, J.” The older one chided gently, eyes sparkling with fondness.
The child took immediate notice of this, picking up the relaxed postures, the way his older counterpart held such reverence for the other in a way he never thought possible for another human being.
Similarly, this future version watched the older with admiration as if he’d hung the moon and stars himself.
His arm flailed between the both, mouth opening and closing as if speaking but no words came out.
“You–we–him–us-”
Jon laughed aloud at the crisis the younger boy was having, shaking his head. “This is what went on when you finally realized?”
Both Damians scowled, the older one blushing a deep red.
The younger one seemed ready to scream. Both men tried to hide their hands behind their back, although not quick enough.
The child spotted the glint of the matching bands of gold the moment they moved, his eyes going wide as saucers.
“fi 'ayi ealam lan 'afeal mithl hadha alshay'?!” He began ranting in Arabic, pacing on the bed.
“I can’t believe you!” he finally declared, pointing at his counterpart as if he were accusing him of murder. “We married KENT?”
“Like it’s such a bad thing.” Jon put a hand to his heart, mock offended.
“Can it, Corncob! What did Father and Mother think?” He pauses in horror. “What did Grandfather think?”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Damian grabbed his hands, holding them tight as the younger one tried to wrench them away.
“He must have tried to have him killed…”
The younger was looking anywhere but the older ones. This was horrible, he was both Robin and a feared assassin, why, why, why was he on the verge of tears at the thought of any of this?
(Deep down, he knew why. This was the forbidden life he kept inside for himself under lock and key. He was a monster, a weapon, meant to take over the League and if not the league, his father’s mantle. He was not supposed to look this happy, have this life, marry someone who was too pure for the world he was born into. Not someone who loved him, who looked at him with the knowledge of his past and still seemed to think he was capable of love.
Happiness….
That was never the plan.)
Jon watched the smaller version of his husband go through a hurricane of emotions all at once, emerald eyes shiny. He watched the internal panic and fear flit through a face too young to have such worries and felt a pang in his heart. One so strong because how many times did he watch his Damian go through that? The tears that should never have been shed, the panic and sleepless nights that should have been replaced with sweet dreams and laughter.
“It’s too nice,” The child finally rasped. “Too nice for me. How…how do I end up like you?”
He directed his question to his older counterpart, hands still trapped in his. The tears made his long eyelashes framing his eyes stick together.
“It’s all too good…for someone like me to have.”
The older one closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.
”It took me a long time, with a lot of help to banish the thoughts. Lots of help from different people. I…i can’t tell you anything that will make you believe me, because at this age, i would have been the same.”
“But I can tell you the absolute truth, and it’s that after everything we’ve gone through, and the challenges you have yet to face, we deserve everything that we’ve been given and much more.”
“You deserved a childhood with people who loved you and did not harm you or train you to death. And this future? This is what you deserve. We earned this future. You won’t remember this visit when you go back, but a part of you will know what I say is true.”
The boy sobbed suddenly, the three curling up on the bed and finding solace in one another.
Damian looked down at the paper in his hands. His counterpart shoving it in his hands and softly smiling was the only thing he remembered from his supposed blast to the future.
Dear younger me,
You deserve every good thing you get. None of the mess that is our life is your fault. Go on and make mistakes, give your heart a break, even if only for a moment. It will serve you well to make some friends too. Till we meet again, as your future self.
Yours,
Damian W.K.
The day after sending his counterpart into the portal, Damian was flooded with new, joyful memories, and a worn piece of paper with faded ink on the corner of his vanity’s mirror.
Absent-mindedly he wondered how long it took for the younger one to realize that the initials were a hint to his future after all.
@super-sons-week
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