Damian's Sister

The Girl's Past

"Daire! It's alright! He's not here! You're safe! You're safe, Daire. You're safe," Bruce's youngest cooed, his tone stricter than it probably should have been.

The screams died down as Tim rushed up from the Batcave, still dressed as Red Robin.

Damian ran his fingers awkwardly through Daire's hair as she whimpered. Her head tossed side to side, her forehead glistening with sweat. Her features contorted up in pain, her teeth grinding together.

"Daire, wake up. Daire," Damian called, gently shaking her with his free hand. "Daire." He said something in Arabic, a quiet whisper even Bruce couldn't pick up.

Much like Damian had minutes before, Daire's eyes flew open, her body shooting up in a sitting position. Damian had been careful not to lean over her, likely having gone through this before. Their heads didn't collide.

Daire's breathing quick and unsteady, her eyes scanned for any sign of immediate danger. Her eyes caught Damian's for a moment, falling onto the worried family at her bedroom door.

"I- I-" she started. Her eyes drew downcast, gaze falling onto her lap. Her shaking hands clenched at the sheets covering her legs, hair dropping to hide her tears. "I'm sorry."

The words came out as a whisper, but were drenched with pain.

"I'm sorry."

Slightly louder now, how thin frame shook. Damian seemed at a lost, glancing to his father then to Dick. Grayson was good with emotions and gush, maybe he knew what to do? Grayson was frozen, eyes locked onto their sister.

"I'm sorry."

Louder, still, her voice became muffled by her rising knees. She ducked her head in them, hiding her face.

"I'm so sorry!"

A sob shook the bed, snapping Damian's attention back to Daire. A helpless hand hung in the air, a few inches from her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry!"

Her sobs- no longer contained- filled the otherwise silent room.

Damian knew what she felt sorry for. He didn't understand it, either.

"What are you sorry for?" he snapped, leaping to his feet.

Daire dared a glance up, not surprised by the sudden outburst. Her head fell back down. "Everything!"

Little hands clenched into pale fists, arms shaking at the strength behind them. "It wasn't your fault! None of that was your fault! You were just a child!"

"I was weak! I should've been stronger; I should've fought him!"

"You were six; and he was a grown man. There wasn't anything you could do!" This wasn't fair! Surely Daire knew the abuse wasn't her fault. How did she always manage to place the blame upon herself? It's illogical!

"But I should've-"

"You COULDN'T!" Damian cut off, leaning forward. One knee on the bed, hands on his sister's shoulders. One of his arms extended further than the other, but he ignored the awkwardness. "You were six, sister." He shook her slightly in emphases. "Six!" Timidly, her eyes rose to meet his. "There was nothing you could do, and you did fight. It was in no way your fault; the blame is all your father's."

"But I should've done something. Anything!"

Her protests weaker, Damian's voice grew softer. "You did all you could. There wasn't anyway you could have stopped him. You did all you could." He lowered his arms, letting his hands rub gently down her arms, continuing until he interlocked their fingers. "And you are so brave."