Demons (Damirae)

Chapter Thirty-Six

A childhood.

And Talia, dear, deceased, excuse of a mother Talia, had done that to him. As had Ra's Al Ghul. Nothing would change that.

"Which is why, just under three years ago, the five of us came to Gotham, to find you."

Startled by this confession, Damian's demonic green eyes widened," You came to Gotham? In search of me?"

"Why?", Batman completed Robin's series of questions, equally as bemused.

Raven, on the other hand, had full awareness of Emrys' justification. Leaving the plush couch (partially because the softness of it had allowed her to unwind so that she'd almost fallen asleep) Raven walked around it, leaning against the back of the sofa so as to keep herself engaged in the conversation.

"To check on you.", Raven filled in for Emrys, having seen him travelling to Gotham when searching through his mind.

"Pardon?", The dent in Damian's eyebrows deepened.

"What you said is true.", Emrys smiled at Raven, "We did travel to Gotham to check on you.", he rubbed the back of his neck, "You were twelve at the time, not too young to still... to still...", he searched for the right term, "to not... be ruined."

The twenty-seven year old exhaled, shaking his head, "We just had to know that...that you were alright. Damian, the five of us fought alongside you since you started training, we -I- couldn't just let you go since we knew you to be alive."

An indescribable sensation overcame Bruce like a wave over an unsuspecting rock pool. So much more than compassion and empathy, for this stranger he'd met less than thirty-minutes prior. This man, who held so strong an attachment to Bruce's son, even though he hadn't spoken to him in five years. And who evidently understood Damian better than Bruce did.

If Batman wasn't adept in interpreting body language, he wouldn't have known Damian's reaction to Emrys' heartwarming confessions. He was.

Biting the inside of his cheek, eyes downcast and Adam's apple bobbing, Damian held back the water threatening to spill from his eyes. It was entirely new to him, this overwhelming emotion. Somewhere between gratitude and melancholia, it lay- this feeling.

Just another of many emotions Damian was discovering, as he strained to drag himself out of the thick tar that was the League's teachings.

"We caught a few glimpses of you, Damian,", Emrys said, "with your father", he dipped his head in Batman's direction, with all due respect, "and the Nightwing- Richard Grayson, if I'm not mistaken."

"You didn't think of approaching me?", Damian asked, unknitting his fingers to idly trace a slender finger down the staircase's railing.

Emrys shook his head, "No. We considered it, but you...you seemed to be doing well. Not following the tendencies of assassins-", rather proudly he added, "on many an occasion, myself and the others witnessed you sparing criminals and saving civilians.

Why would we need to re-enter your life when you had made such progress ?"

Damian's hand dropped from the metal railing, resting on the hilt of his sword as a sigh escaped his lips, "Tt. I wouldn't have fallen in to the League's ways from seeing you. It would have been a reassurance rather than a relapse."

The addressee folded his arms, hanging his head, as he recounted to Damian, Batman and the empath what happened after the first few times he and the other four ex-assassins saw the boy: before they had the chance to approach Damian, he had been sent off to the Titans and Emrys didn't see him again until now.