Batty Family - Batfam Oneshots

[RQ] The Youngest (Damian & Family)

He swallowed back the tight feeling in his chest. Their opinion didn't matter, he told himself, he could get by just fine on his own.

He landed in front of the asylum, its flimsy gate swinging back and forth in the wind. The building was in complete ruins, crumbled on top of itself.

"What happened here...?" Damian whispered, examining the scene. He noticed a small opening in the fallen foliage next to the asylum, one he could slip through. He sprinted over and fell onto his side, allowing the geography of the hill to carry him downwards.

As he went, he noticed a broken window in one of the lowest floors of the asylum. He shoved one foot into the ground to stop himself, then leaped through the shattered glass. It barely missed his suit.

In the asylum, he paced around, examining the long hallways before him. The white lights flickered, and dirt caked the tile floor. Damian trenched on, his green boots silent against the ground. On his journey, he found open cell doors, misplaced medical equipment, and splatters of blood on the walls. Admittedly, it was creepy, but nothing that would scare Damian away. What was really jarring was the figure standing before him as he turned a corner, spooking him out of breath.

"What the—" he blurted, "Who's there?"

The figure made no move to approach him. He slipped his katana out of its sheath as he walked closer.

"I won't hesitate to attack!" he yelled, but again, he was met with no response. Growling, he grew agitated and ran towards the figure. As he got closer, his eyes adjusted to the dim light, and he could see that it wasn't a person at all. Instead, the figure was just an old Robin suit, propped up in the middle of the hallway.

"Oh," he spoke quietly. He squinted his eyes at the suit, finding a J written on with a red substance which he could only assume was blood. The J covered the signature Robin R. The suit was torn, large pieces of fabric cut open. It stank of blood and sweat, so much so that Damian had to take a step back.

"Ugh," he pinched his nose, wondering where the suit came from. He heard rumors about Jason, how he died and was brought back to life, but no one ever told him how he died in the first place. All they ever said was that they would tell him when he was older.

"Todd..." his eyes widened, "Is this how you—?"

Suddenly, a hand came from the darkness and covered his mouth. Damian tried to pull it away, but another arm wrapped around his torso, holding his arms down. He kicked back and forth, confused at how someone could be so strong as to hold him back. He let out muffled yells as he writhed about.

"Sh, sh, sh," a voice commanded, "Just calm down."

The person removed the hand over his mouth, and Damian inhaled a large breath.

"Let go of me, you half-wit excuse for a—!"

"Damian!" the man boomed, spinning the boy around. He rested a palm on each of Damian's shoulders, and that's when he froze. A familiar face towered over him.

His shock rendered him unable to shout, and so he whispered, "Grandfather...?"

"Damian," Ra's smiled, and Damian furrowed his eyebrows at the unfamiliar and uncharacteristic expression, "I've been waiting for you."

"How did you know I was coming?" he asked as the man kneeled to his level.

"I didn't. But I knew you would find me one way or another. You're my grandson after all," Ra's declared proudly.

"I didn't even know you were in Gotham. I was looking for someone else."

"And who might that be?"

Damian gulped, "I was looking for the Joker. Maybe you haven't heard of him—"