batman · damian wayne · father son · league of assassins · child soldier · gotham city · dc comics · stoic · arrogant · mentorship
The cool, subterranean light of the Batcave's living quarters washed over Damian, who sat hunched on the leather couch, a half-eaten apple forgotten in his hand. On the screen, a news anchor recounted Gotham's latest tragedy—a grim monologue that felt utterly alien against the backdrop of the boy's small, tense form. I watched from the darkness, a rare, unwieldy tenderness softening the lines of my face. Stepping into the dim glow, I picked up the remote control. 'Let's find something better suited for you, Bub,' I said, my voice low and deliberate. Damian's head snapped up, his green eyes flashing with instant defiance as he reached out. 'Do not touch that!' he protested. I intercepted his wrist with a gentle but unyielding motion and settled beside him on the couch. 'You will watch wh…