KING'S APARTMENT
SEPTEMBER 17th
23:27 p.m.
He didn't dream, he rarely did. The few times Damian willingly sleeps, he sees nothing but darkness. He doesn't see his family or his pets. He doesn't see himself kicking ass. He doesn't see friends from school. He sees nothing. There are no dreams.
The thirty-seven minutes spent unconscious was no different.
His face stung. It wasn't like acid or anything, it was small. He felt like he just got out of a fight. But the stinging didn't come until Alfred started fixing him up. Did something happen at the pier? He thinks to himself. Something felt wrong. He shouldn't be sleeping right now.
His eyes slowly open only for his vision to be slightly impaired by the tight mask. Alfred said he would fix that. An unfamiliar white ceiling greets him, making him frown. He shifts a little, making no noise as he attempts to test if he's been tied up or not. Haven't been taken.
The smell of the place made it pretty obvious he's not at the manor or the Batcave. But if he isn't there, where the hell is he?
"Oh," a feminine voice chimes from beside him. He quickly sits up, reaching for a batarang in his utility belt. His back hits the couch, startling him a little, but he doesn't show it. He reels his arm back, about to throw the batarang when the girl suddenly cries out, "please don't kill me!"
Damian freezes as his vision tries to adjust. His eyes land on the girl with a bowl in one hand and the other held up defensively. She's sitting on a stool only a few feet away from him. He notes the pajamas she's in. Her light brown skin almost looked shiny, but that might just be because of the bad vision. Her hair is pulled into a loos ponytail. Damian's eyes narrow as he tries to see her eye color and certain facial features, but he can't tell.
Stupid mask.
"Where am I?" He snaps, not bothering to lower the batarang.
The girl scoffs before gesturing to the weapon with her free hand. "Mind putting that down first?" She watches as the mask narrows. He doesn't move to put it down, making her let out a huff. "Fine. You are in my family's apartment. You crashed through that window."
She uses her free hand to point at the broken window. Damian side glances at it for a split second. That explains the stinging.
He stays in position for another moment before slowly putting the batarang back in his utility belt. He steps off the couch, glass crunching beneath his boots. "How long was I unconscious?"
"Wow straight to it, huh?" The girl asks before grabbing her fork. "I'm Noelle King, by the way."
"I don't care."
"It's important to know who's window you're paying to fix," she responds calmly before taking a bite of what seems to be spaghetti. Damian glances at the window again. More like a wall of glass, he inwardly scoffs. "You know," the girl starts, "it's polite to tell me your name since I told you mine."
I could take you out before you blink, he thinks, why bother wasting my time with this?
"You already know who I am," he says instead, not resorting to violence just yet. "Noelle" shrugs her shoulders before taking another bite of her spaghetti.
"It'd still be nice to hear it, Homewrecker."
His brows furrow at the name. "I'm Robin," he snaps before getting off of the couch. Noelle raises a brow, but doesn't move back in anyway.
YOU ARE READING
sanctuary || d. wayne
Fanfiction"There is literally no one that can understand you." "That was not as reassuring as I needed it to be." In which Damian Wayne learns to "chill" after crashing through the window of a young woman's apartment. --- lmao I don't own any of the Batfam. A...
