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That orphan looks familiar.
by Damian Wayne on Sunday, June 5,
((Pre-dated for the evening of June 8th.))
Damian had not slept since the night Bruce came home with Terry's body. Sleep was pointless. Going back to the his own dimension was pointless. This patrol... Was pointless. Everything felt wildly insignificant in light of everything that was to come for him in the next few weeks, the next few months at all. But he had been asked to meet here, for help with a mission. Over his day or so back in 2030, he'd managed to send out a general message through the Hub to offer aide to any dimensions in need of an extra set of hands.
Unfortunately, the night Bruce returned brought in 3 requests for him, and thus rendered him unable to return to see Max, or stay and keep Bruce any company. But he needed this. He missed Max terribly and his heart ached for what she must be feeling, but if he knew either of them at all, he would know that they were both going to go into overdrive in an effort not to think about Terry's defective suit, his body tumbling to Earth all alone...
He took a heaving breath there in the dark, it's wake barely visible. It was cold for June, but then, nothing was as expected lately, and this night was proving no more predictable. With a thoughtful growl, he pulled out his teleporter and vaguely admitted to himself that he might have the wrong place or time. Resetting the timer on it, he pressed the button and managed to end up on an entirely different part of town, not too far from the Opera house...
Feeling a bit disgruntled at his mix-up, he stalked down the rest of the alley to get up atop the low townhouse next to him, and began waiting again. The dimension seemed to have changed... Like the air was clearer, the night sharper, and through the clear, Damian could hear a gunshot. It wasn't what he had been waiting for, but before he could decide what he should do, his feet were taking him toward the source of the sound. It angered him, it set something off. Lack of sleep and a focus skewed by it was leading him and he knew it, but he needed to know who was shot... He wanted to beat the pulp out of someone who deserved it.
- Brucie WayneBruce looked up, eyes red, cheeks tear stained, and very slowly he brought a hand to his face to wipe the wetness away. Unfortunately, it didn't help anything, the tears kept coming and he was sobbing now, unsure if it was loss he was feeling or just being more scared than he ever had been.
Watching the man dressed in all black, he knew he should probably run, but to where? To who? He had nothing and there was no way he would outrun a grown adult.
"B-Bruce," he answered, wiping at his eyes again with the back of his suit jacket, looking back down at his parents forms, lifeless now, their blood pooling around his knees, warm and sticky.
Damian WayneSuspicions or none, he had to take a moment to collect his thoughts at the information. Bruce. His father, in the moment that changed his life and the course of everyone's lives that he'd ever known. This moment was the birth of Batman.
He reeled, but reached out his arm to the boy, but was not forceful. Calm, he needed to calm this instinct to just take him away. He couldn't screw with this boy's life that way, with Bruce's life. He'd done enough of that... Right?
"Hello, Bruce. I'm going to take you home, okay? Do your parents have a phone, can you call Alfred?"Brucie Wayne He might have been hysterical with crying and fear, but he was sure he wasn't mishearing this man talking to him. Alfred? Who or what was Alfred. Slowly, he shook his head, sandy brown hair falling into his eyes. His parents left their phones at home for the evening as well, to keep it family only. No emergencies. No interruptions, they had said.
"Alfred?" he questioned, shaking.
Damian Wayne/Jesus./ This child was almost hysterical, but he seemed coherent. He didn't seemed confused, but there was genuinely no recognition in his tone.
Damian's heart seemed to solidify into a stone in his chest, and he knew he couldn't stop himself from what he was about to do. He couldn't turn back, or send this kid to the police department and let him do this alone. He simply couldn't. Again, he motioned Bruce to come forward. "I'll help you. Come with me," he said gently.
Brucie WayneWhat other choice was there? Someone wanted to take care of him, to help him, and he had no one else now. Naive as he was, being sheltered his whole life thus far, Bruce managed to get to his feet and stumbled over his parents' bodies, not wanting to look down as he did.
And then, when he did make it to Damian, he looked back and down at his parents, dulled dark eyes going numb. "Okay," he whispered, knowing that they weren't coming back.
Damian WayneDamian seemed to sigh almost in relief, despite the absolute insanity behind this. He was going to take home a child, and not just any child, his own father at a pinnacle moment in his life. Swallowing hard again, he wrapped his arms around Bruce, and pulled him close, before pulling out his teleporter and setting it for his own time.
He stared down at the teleporter a few moments, trying to clear his head. But no matter what logic came to him and tried to stop him, he was not letting go. If he was going to do this, he needed to go through with it /now/. "You're going to have to trust me, okay? I'm going to take you to /my/ home. Are you ready?"
Brucie WayneBruce nodded, again, slowly, arms around Damian's neck, not sure where they were going, how they would get there or not. He'd heard about superheroes though, saw some once with Tommy when they went to Metropolis with his dad. If he had to guess, Bruce would say this man was a superhero too.
"Okay," he said again, not sure what else to say. He wiped at his eyes and looked at his parents one last time, biting his tiny bottom lip.
Damian WayneDamian looked the boy in the face once again before finally pressing the button, the strange sucking sensation taking over only for a moment before they arrived inside his own father's cave.
Reluctantly, D placed Bruce on his feet and removed his cowl so the boy could see his face. He crouched next to him and gently rubbed his gloved thumbs across the boy's cheeks, but said nothing, wanting to allow Bruce any last tears or words. In his own head, he was thinking fast, wondering what he would tell his father. What did he even /want/ to do? There was no help for the boy, his parents were gone and unless he told Damian anyone else he could stay with, he couldn't imagine where he'd send him.
This was either the stupidest or noblest thing he'd ever done. Maybe both. All he could hope was that this would not be too much for his father after what had happened to Terry... But Damian was done asking himself what his father would have done instead of him. These were his choices, his life now. If Bruce though this was a bad idea and wanted nothing to do with it, Damian would do it alone. He could do that... /Good luck, dipshit./ Thanks for the vote of confidence.
Brucie WayneThe sensation was odd and Bruce had no idea where they were going, or how, but he held tightly to Damian, hand clasped around his neck and squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again he was being set down on the floor of a cave, much larger and more vast than the one he had fallen into months ago.
He could hear the small chirping and squeal of the bats high above them in the caverns, and he clutched impulsively to Damian's leg, burying his face.
Damian Wayne/Bats. Duh./ Taking the hint, Damian picked Bruce up once more. No lingering in the cave until he figured out how to tell his father, as he'd hoped, but he wouldn't subject the kid to this.
He tromped him up the stairs, pressing the boy's head into him so he didn't have to look at the dark cave around him, and they reached the main floor quickly. D took a look around but no one seemed to be around, and took Bruce to the kitchen and set him atop the counter. "I'm sorry about your parents, Bruce," he started softly, and ran an affectionate hand over the kid's scalp, trying hard to be comforting. "But you're welcome here. Would you like anything? Water, food?" Damian was at a loss of how to deal with the unfathomable grief that could have hold of Bruce, but he wanted to help him, wanted to make him okay. He stood in front of him hoping that the child would trust him with his well-being, if just for now while he was scared.
Brucie Wayne Relieved to be out of the cave, Bruce sat on the counter, feet swaying back and forth while he looked down at his hands. Chewing the inside of his cheek, he nodded a bit, but didn't look up. Shock had set in, the tears were gone, and Bruce felt dull, empty, and numb. Maybe it was a bad dream and he'd wake up soon...
/It'll be okay. Everything will be fine./ Okay. Okay...
Damian WayneD stood and looked at the cogs turning in there for a moment before moving to poor him a glass of water, setting it next to him and letting Bruce just breathe this out. He set a hand on the tiny shoulder and ducked his head to catch Bruce's eye. "Hey, everything is going to be okay. I promise," he said steadily, knowing full well he had no idea what was going to happen here, but he knew he meant it. He would not let anything bad happen to him.
Brucie Wayne Glancing up, Bruce bit down into his bottom lip, nodding yet again. He was a quiet child as it was, but he was holing himself up more now, afraid and unsure. But this man wanted to take care of him, it was obvious, so Bruce would try to seem grateful. It's what mother had raised him to be, a proper gentleman, after all.
"What's your name?"
Damian Wayne"Damian," he told him. Bruce had that look on his face, where he didn't know what to do than internalize. Damian knew because he did it too. But he couldn't blame the kid, and he wasn't going to force anything with him right now.
The hard ...See More
Brucie Wayne Damian. He'd file that away for later, it was a different name, wouldn't hard to remember. His brows raised at the mention of his father, which was odd considering this man looked nothing like someone his father usually brought home from business.
"Are you a doctor, too?"
Damian Wayne Damian smiled at him ruefully. "No, not a doctor. Just a friend," he said. He was almost wishing he could have taken the kid to the other dimension, there were more children he'd be able to relate to. But D couldn't add that to the chaos there, this was his... thing. Project. He didn't even know why or how, but this was already giving him purpose.
Brucie Wayne "Oh," he said quietly. He only met a few of his father's friends. He didn't know he knew any superheroes though. He pondered a moment, before speaking again, quite curiously. "Are you a superhero?"
Damian Wayne Damian resisted the urge to laugh, but still grinned as he shook his head. "No. Just a..." /What? Creep in a mask who stalks people?/ "Protector."
Brucie Wayne "Oh, okay," he replied, looking around the state of the place he was in now. Unfamiliar, modern, and nothing like his house was, but yet just as large. His stomach growled, they were going to eat after the opera...
Damian Wayne D heard that and remembered that Bruce had said he was hungry when asked. He gave him a little smile before dropping his hand and heading for the fridge. "What do you want to eat?" he asked, hoping he had some requests... D had no idea what to offer him, and Bruce rarely had much kid-friendly food around his house. And he didn't want to tell Bruce that they weren't eating until they went to his own apartment.
Brucie Wayne Chewing the inside of his lip, he leaned a little to watch Damian; he'd really like a sandwich, but he knew that was proper dinner food and mother would have balked at him for even asking. /Mom isn't here, is she? No, she left us.../
Oh...
"Peanut butter sandwich?"
Damian WaynePerfect. PB&J, he could handle. Damian nodded and set to work on that, glancing over to study Bruce's tiny form every once in a while as he did so. The innocence there was simply... Dare he think it, /heart/-warming. He felt bad about his fascination, didn't want to think that any part of the reason he brought him here was due to it.
He finished and set it in front of him, cut even into four pieces. He gave him a one-sided grin for a moment and narrowed his eyes. "Want me to cut off the crust?" he offered, knowing that was always how he'd like it, but never wanted to sound so childish at Bruce's age. /I was such a brat./ Yeeaah.
Brucie WayneBruce didn't watch Damian make the sandwich, just glanced around, kicking his feet slightly off the counter, wondering what would life be like now that mom and dad were gone. /Wretched, horrible, empty. But we'll be okay./ Oh, he did not like this voice very much, he thought, rubbing his eyes.
Looking up again, a plate was set in front of him and she managed a small smile, forced, but still a smile. "No, it's fine. Thank you." He said, picking up one of the little squares and nibbling on it.
Damian WayneD nodded and sat down near him on a stool, thinking as Bruce ate. Every instinct he had about how to handle this, he'd second guess. His clenched his jaw and cleared his head. Doubting himself like this would get neither of them anywhere, and it wouldn't help Damian make responsible choices for the kid.
He couldn't just take the kid home. How could he? Where was he supposed to leave him on patrols? No, that would never work. Maybe Max...
No, Max had enough to deal with without having to babysit /here/ as well. He couldn't ask her to do that, because knowing her, she would, and end up over-stretching herself.
Addie was far too busy, and how long could he ask her to leave Tony? Her own home? That was out too.
Last, there was Bruce. It was the most convenient considering all other options, but /how/ he was going to present this to him was another story entirely.
"Do you think you'd /like/ to stay with me?" he asked, realizing he should probably be considering how /he/ felt about it as well. Maybe that could help point him in the right direction.
Brucie WayneBlinking, Bruce took another bite, considering carefully. He could stay here or he could... go where? Live on the streets? Live in an orphanage? He naive, but he knew how those things worked, his father had talked about it with Tommy's mother, should she have died when his father had.
"Yes," he replied, avoiding the voice in his head that said they wouldn't need anyone, because Bruce knew it wasn't true. Only eight years old... he couldn't take care of himself, no matter how smart he was.
Damian Wayne Damian nodded, at least there was that. The boy didn't seem frightened of him, but considering his situation, he seemed to be fairly calm and unintimidated. Damian didn't know how he felt about that.
"Okay. Well, this isn't my house, but we might be staying here for the night, okay?" /Just until I figure out what the fuck I'm gonna do./
Scared, he had asked his father if they could get some air, or sit out in the lobby. Mother and Father both opted to leave, and Bruce took their hands as they exited through the alley to get back the main street, to catch the monorail.
Only seconds down the dark alley a haggard and strange man approached, of which Bruce didn't understand what he wanted, he only knew what he father was doing, which was trying to calm the man, and give him his wallet. Bruce's mother had him by the shoulders, holding him protectively to her, but in the split seconds that went by, in the time it took Bruce to blink, both his parents lie bleeding and dying in a puddle at his feet, his mother's pearls scattered across the gravel.
They'd been shot.
Bruce's father said something to him, vague and trying to calm him, but the boy was crying, on his knees, scared and alone, watching his parents die with no way to help.
Damian Wayne
Finally letting his eyes rest on the slight boy, who looked no more than 9 or 10, and D felt for a moment that perhaps his lack of sleep was leading to more hallucinations. He blinked again and the vision of his father's face dissipated some, but the striking green eyes and pointed nose kept that feeling of deja vu about his consciousness. The small features crumpled in fear and pain, Damian took very tentative steps toward him, crouching as he got about five feet away. "What's your name?" he asked, not bothering to disguise his voice to the boy, who was likely already scared of the man in all black. He wanted to just take him away, get him far from the forms of--
The face of the man lying before him, that was hard to mistake. He had seen pictures around the manor, and knowing how dimension-hopping worked, the few slight changes in structure were not doing much to disprove his growing suspicion. And then there was the woman, blonde, beautiful... Lying next to pearls splayed out like marbles at her side. Swallowing hard, D looked back up to the small boy and felt his chest tighten.