Amira Wayne

Chapter 21: Advice

Amira managed to grab Tim before he met the floor, not noticing the incoming attack from Deathstroke. Just as his dagger was about to reach her, something hit Deathstroke in the face, Tim noticing a black case landed at his feet.

"Over here!" Damian yelled, causing everyone to look up, watching as Damian landed perfectly square on Deathstroke's shoulders, the boy not only wrapping his legs around the man, but also the chain of the rope dart Amira recognized as her own.

Amira watched as Damian kept Deathstroke in the hold, watching as the man was starting to find his way out of it. "Use the thing inside the case!" Damian yelled at Tim, Tim freezing when he saw what was inside.

"I-I can't use this." Tim whispered, turning to Amira after having read the label. "We can't-" He watched as Amira grabbed the case and casually walked up to Deathstroke.

"Don't worry Tim." Amira took the needle out of the case, wondering where Damian even managed to get his hands on the venom. "We're not killing him, just torturing him."

Without hesitation, Amira stabbed it into a patch of exposed skin (courtesy of Damian's sword), watching as the man screamed and grunted as he fought against the pain. "After all, we don't kill."

"Well said, Amira." Tim jumped from Amira's flinch when Bruce spoke up.

The three turned their heads to see Bruce at the doorway, an elderly man with a smile on his face next to him. While a majority of his hair was tied back, tufts of white poked a bit from the side, Amira knowing who he was the minute he saw his eyes...

So he was the man whose eyes she inherited....

"Father...Ra's." Damian addressed, tying up Deathstroke before going to them, his heart sinking a bit when Bruce walked past him and went towards Amira, not even bothering to acknowledge him.

"Are you alright, Amira?" Amira turned away from her father as he fussed over the bruises and cuts on her face.

"I'm...fine." She said, swatting away her father's gentleness, only then noticing that Alfred had silently joined them. "Grandpere."

"Amira, my child, look at yourself." Alfred softly spoke, Amira letting him examine her face. "Lets get those cuts cleaned in the infirmary. Master Tim," he addressed, Tim flinching when he was called. "That goes for you too. I can't have that ghastly gash of yours infecting under my watch."

"Yes, sir." Tim said with a nod, going to join them when he watched the other elderly man make his way towards Deathstroke.

"To think I treated him like a son once." Ra's said, disappointment visible on his face. "To think I ever considered him to be my heir at one point. Never would've thought he would be the one to try and betray me."

"Him?" Damian asked the question in Bruce's mind. "He was the one who you considered worthy of succeeding you?"

"At one point, yes. But then, you came along...or rather, the two of you came along." Ra's said, turning slightly to see Amira's reaction. The girl mentioned stopped in her tracks. "Two grandchildren, but only one was able to claim the throne."

"More like only one was considered to be your heir." Amira spoke once turning to look at Ra's in the face. "After all, ever since you found out my mother was going to have me, you wanted me dead. Me, a mere infant."

No one noticed the paleness in Damian's face, the way his eyes widened upon hearing those words.

His grandfather...wanted his sister, their own blood...dead?

"I gave your mother the opportunity to let you live."

"You threatened her to get rid of me!" Amira yelled, remembering her mother's retelling of Ra's threat.