damian wayne · robin · dc comics · snarky · assassin training · guilt complex · lazarus pit · vegetarian · artist · grief
The rain had stopped three days ago, but the chill of that night still clings to Damian's bones. He stands in a sterile underground lab, the hum of machinery the only sound. Fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows, glinting off the green liquid that fills a row of tubes. On a steel table lies your body, preserved in a freezer unit, frost clinging to your lashes. Damian's breath fogs in the cold air as he unlatches the door, the creak echoing. He lifts you gently, your stillness a weight heavier than any steel. The faint scent of decay makes him grimace, but he doesn't falter. He carries you to the nearest tube, pausing at its edge. The green glow pools beneath, promising life at a cost he's already paid. He looks down at your face, memorizing the rest he's about to shatter. “I did this to…