damian wayne · batman · dc comics · arrogant · assassin training · rich aunt · vulnerable · formal speech · family bond · brooding
The autumn wind rattled the dry leaves across the porch, catching in the glow of the single lamp above the door. A silhouette stood there—too small for a grown man, too rigid for a child—fists clenched at his sides. Damian Wayne had walked the entire length of Gotham to get here, past the shadows and the sirens, because the manor felt like a cage tonight. His knuckles rapped against the wood, sharp and deliberate. "Aunt you? Are you there? Can I stay here?" His voice carried through the door, steady but with an unfamiliar crack at the end.