Chapter Text
“Excuse me?”
“If you insist.” Damian raised his eyebrow at her obliviousness.
“That is no way to speak to a teacher, Mr. Wayne. That is no way to speak to any adult, especially within this faculty.” The lady scolded in a heightened tone, still remaining respectful despite the tight stretch in her voice. “As you are still relatively new to this academy, I am providing you with a rare opportunity to apologise. Failure to do so will result in not only a standard detention but a meeting arranged amongst your primary guardian and the dean.”
Damian waited for her to finish, staring tiredly at the single strand of hair out of place on her head. “I understand. Either way, I shall not apologise to someone who is beneath me in not only breeding but also status. My father pays you. You would do best to remember your place and find it within that brain the ability to comprehend that your assigned homework is irrelevant to my life and I will not be attempting it, completing it nor handing it in. My father’s phone line is usually free around two the four PM. Feel free to leave the message regarding the meeting within that time period. Have a nice rest of the day, Miss Maine.”
And with that Damian left, not wasting a moment longer to listen to the excuse of a teacher beg for his forgiveness. She was a suitable scholar indeed, however there was much left to desire in her comprehension of a social hierarchy. The homework was not at all difficult, a singular worksheet questioning the student on algebra of all things. It was child work. Damian was at college level at the very least when it came to mathematics. He would not let himself be insulted with the Academy’s insistence to refuse to acknowledge his excellence.
Father will understand.
Father did not understand.
It was outrageous. Damian was sat in the office with his Father, the dean and Miss. Maine and he was forced to watch in horrifying silence while Father apologised for his son’s behaviour and attitude.
It made no sense as Damian watched his Father, Batman, blubber out a string of sorry and niceties. Why was his Father not defending his honour? Mother would have slit the tongues of the two members of staff as a mercy! Why wasn’t Father seeing the matter as it was?
“I honestly had no idea, Mr. Wilton, I swear-“
“Father,” Damian cut off, having finally had enough. “Whilst it-“
“Hush, son.” His Father rebutted in a sharp tone, eyes transforming from the apologetic begging trance to a swift glare in a millisecond as he turned to face Damian. “We will talk about your poor behaviour at home once I hear suggestions about your punishment from Mr. Wilton. Although,” Father turned towards the staff again, eyes reverting back to the pathetic gaze from before. “Miss Maine’s ideas are also very welcomed. I am again so very sorry for the rudeness.”
“Yes, well,” The lady adjusted her glasses. “You really shouldn’t blame yourself so much, Mr. Wayne. I have had the pleasure of teaching both Richard and Jason. I’m sure we can both recall that while they had their moments they were both exceptional. And this was after you had the chance to raise them some. Young Damian here is clearly not falling behind on his behaviour due to your efforts.”
Damian scowled harder, how dare she imply—
“Either way,” his Father spoke once more. “We can never fully blame a child for their actions. The adults in their lives must always bear some of the blame at least.”
Disgustingly false—
“Modest as usual, isn’t he Miss? Now on to Damian’s punishment. I believe at school we may offer him three weeks of detention, plus having him submit his missing homework in not only mathematics but his other studies before the end of this semester.”
Punishment? Him? Wait until Father strikes out against this imbecile of—
“That sounds completely fair, Mr Wilton. And I will ensure he continues his studies at home. Not just me but also Alfred, you remember him too, Miss Maine? Either way, he will also face punishment at home. This behaviour was unacceptable and I will personally make sure it is corrected.”
Damian felt… he felt… he didn’t know. It was odd, not having a trusted figure stand up for him. Even against grandfather, Mother’s silent presence was enough to allow Damian to hold his head high. To be able to do nothing as he watched Father agree with those below status insult him as well as also insult Damian himself? It was an odd feeling.
The next thing he knows, Father is standing and shaking hands, ushering Damian to leave the office. Damian takes the opportunity of walking down the halls to glance at Father. His fake smile radiant with a slight sign of his deepest frown.
“Father—“
“Are we home yet?” He interrupted abruptly, startling Damian somewhat.
“Pardo-“
“Are we home yet?” Father repeating, spiking irritation within Damian.
“No, Father.”
“I expect you to at the very least be able to respond to simple instructions. We will talk about this at home as I said earlier.” Father hadn’t even bothered to look at Damian throughout this entire exchange. However, recalling the harsh gaze set only for him back in the office, maybe it was best this way.
“Yes, Father.” Damian bit his tongue. This felt odd. And unfair. If there’s one person who has always been in his corner then it is Richard.
Richard will understand.
Richard did not understand.
“It’s been half a semester and you haven’t done any work?”
Damian openly scowled at the gobsmacked look on Richard’s face through the video call. “It was an insignificant waste of my time.”
“So all this time,” Richard continued as he fumbled around his apartment through the screen. “Whenever you say you’re doing homework you’re actually…?”
Drawing. “Polishing my strategic abilities. A skill many in this family would do well to practise.”
Richard’s face bloomed into what Todd might call a ‘shit eating grin’. “You just said we’re a family.” He mocked.
Damian’s already irritable self prickled even more. “I did not-“
“No take backsies!” Richard sang in glee. What was everyone’s issue with allowing Damian to talk without interruption? “Whatever though. What’s your punishment?”
“Well,” Damian started, glancing up uncertainly before forcing himself to return to maintain eye contact. He will not display signs of a child. “The academy has demanded that I submit every missed assignment in addition to three months of detention. I am to make use of the time in the detention to complete said homework.”
“Sounds fair,” Richard shrugged.
But how in anyone’s right mind was it fair? Why did everyone refuse to take his side on the matter? It was unnecessary work! Why couldn’t Richard especially just respect his view on the matter?
“But I was thinking more about Bruce, what’s he saying?”
“He, um” Damian cursed himself for the stutter. “I am not entirely sure. He told me to wait here in the living room whilst he discussed with Alfred.”
“Ouch,” Richard winced, his tone shifting more towards Damian’s favour. Damian tried to ignore that it was due to his foolish stutter and far away glances that Richard had decided to talk more gently to him. As though he was like a child. How irritating. “Usually that means that Bruce himself thinks his punishment is too harsh and wants Alfie to lower the bar for him.”
“Fantastic.” Damian muttered. “I am glad we decided to have this discussion.”
“Hey,” he said playfully. “You called me, remember? Also I’m sure it won’t be so bad. The school’s already dragging you for that. Rightfully so to be fair.”
Damian’s gaze sharpened. “What do you mean by that?”
Richard kept his annoying voice gentle. “Dami, I know you enough to know you’re not revealing the whole truth of the matter. Whether that’s because you don’t want to share it with me or you’re looking at the situation through rose coloured glasses, you gotta admit that you can get a bit much at times, kiddo.”
What was that supposed to mean?
“You should see this from my perspective.” Damian insisted.
“I am. I see a kid who’s thrust into a new society where everything is upside down for him.”
“I am no child—“
“Will you let me finish?”
Will you let me?
“It’s just that we’ve been giving you so many chances. By now you should know to just listen to adults around you. They do know more about what they’re talking about sometimes. Like Miss Maine! If you had just listened to her in the first place and did your homework then we wouldn’t be having this problem right?”
“That is not how I see it.” Damian gritted out. He still did not wish to snipe at Richard.
Even after he let out an exhausted sigh. “Of course not. Look, just listen to us grown ups okay? Especially in school, Dami. Maybe this is a good thing, it’ll teach you more about the world and following orders and yada yada. Now as happy as I am to lecture you, I do need to go and pee.” Richard grinned, “I can always take the phone with me but—“
“Why are you like this!” Damian spluttered, ignoring his brother’s guffawing. “Honestly how can- ugh! Goodbye, Richard.”
“Bye bye, Dami! Good luck with Bruce!”
Damian sighed and dropped his phone. He had already waited forty minutes for his Father to cool down with Pennyworth. What’s a few more minutes? He closed his eyes and focused on finding his meditative centre, subtly ignoring that this tactic was to distract from the pit of anxiety forming within him.
It had barely been five minutes when the door to the library opened abruptly. Father walked in as he normally did with a stance of confidence and power. Although, this time an aura of frustration and anger filtered through.
“Father,” Damian greeted as he stood up.
His Father took a second to study the boy intensely before sighing, forcefully relaxing his posture and adding a bit of a slouch. He dragged a chair out from under the table and gestured Damian to sit back on the couch.
Damian sat properly on the couch, back straight and hands clenched in his lap. Prepared for the punishment. What would the ridiculous statement be? A week of helping Pennyworth?
His Father sighed again before finally speaking. “Damian. You are my son.”
Uh huh. Amazing deduction.
“You are no different from Dick, Jason—“
“I am your blood!” Damian erupted, instantly furious.
“Let me finish!”
Father’s unusual yell humbled Damian a bit. He clicked his jaw shut but glared, shaking in pure anger.
“You are no different from Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass and Duke. Even Stephanie and Barbara. They are my children as well. You are all on an equal line in my heart and in every other aspect. I feel like a broken record here. I’m telling you that there is no difference between all of you and your refusal to listen is frankly tiring.”
His voice was firm and curt and was filling Damian with dread. Where was Father going with this? Father had to love him more and had to respect him more. He was blood.
“I have been patient because I have acknowledged that you being the blood heir and whatever else, has been drilled into you since birth. And even though you’ve been in this home for awhile now, and you’ve learned that so much of what you knew turned out to be lies, for some insane reason you can’t see how much the true blood thing is a lie as well. You are the same as everyone in this household and honestly you are the same as every other human being.”
But he was better, he was carefully created and designed to be better.
“Yes, the punishment will be harsh this time but I have been too lenient with you in the past and it’s making no difference.”
Damian could take it. He’s taken the worst punishments. He’s got the scars littered on his body to prove it.
“Until further notice I am benching Robin.”
What?
“What?” Damian sprung up and Father just sighed again. “You cannot do that! Robin is my right—“
“Why can’t you understand that you don’t have rights above everyone else?” His Father leaned forward and snapped bluntly. “You disrespected your teacher, Damian. Can you comprehend how incredibly rude you were? It’s one thing being completely rude to us but to your teacher? She was helping you. It’s her literal job. And for you to have insulted her so much is outright horrible.”
“I already know what she has to teach! To do her work and every other teacher’s work from that gutter of a school is barbarically a waste of my time!” Damian spat. His fists shaking as his heart hammered in his chest.
“Your time? Which is spent doing what? Being Robin? If you are unable to divide your time efficiently then of course I have no other choice than to remove Robin.”
“But I am Robin!” Why couldn’t Father understand? “I am Robin before this nonsense. I am doing the world as well as you a favour every night!”
Father took a moment to breathe before speaking. “You are Damian before you are Robin. Not the other way around. If you can’t understand that then maybe you shouldn’t be Robin at all.”
Speechless, Damian stared at his Father helplessly. Suddenly he was breathless, his blood rushing heavy in his ears as his heart shattered at the prospect. If he wasn’t Batman’s Robin then what was he? “You cant-“ he started.
“I can but I won’t.” His Father interrupted him. Damian’s world tilted itself back abruptly. Leaving him dizzy and he sat himself back on the couch behind him. “Robin is permanently yours. Dick chose you to carry on his title and it feels wrong to take it away without discussing it with him first.”
Father shifted his chair forward and took Damian’s shaking hands in his own. His large hands cocooned Damian’s. His tone had changed to something more gentle as Damian stared up at him wide eyed.
“I promise you, you are still Robin, Damian. But I’m only benching you right now so that you can focus on what a child your age should actually be focussing on. All the school work you need to complete now will take up so much of your time. You also need to have some sort of privilege removed for how you treated your teachers. You need to understand not to disrespect them and this was one of the only ways I knew would make that lesson stick. You must apologise to them all and especially Miss Maine. She didn’t deserve that from you for no reason.”
Father moved Damian’s hands so that he could hold both in one while he laid his other hand on Damian’s shoulder. “And I had no idea that you prioritised Robin more than yourself. You’re not two different people, Damian. I know I’m a bit of a hypocrite but honestly, you need to put Damian first and understand who you are before I can trust that you can be Robin.”
There was a deep silence as Father finally finished speaking. Damian’s heart had calmed and his hands stopped shaking. He was still Robin.
“Can you say something please?” Father asked as he felt the silence grow awkward.
Dazed, Damian shook his head. He didn’t want to speak.
For the fourth time in the past ten minutes Father sighed. “Alright. Well, once you have apologised to your teachers, completed your work and have an evident change of attitude towards the faculty and students in the academy then I will think about letting Robin back in the field. We can still train in the Cave and you can occasionally monitor the comms. Is that okay?”
Father was nice like that sometimes, he would allow Damian to be silent as he did with Cain. Unlike Mother who always believed it was an act of defiance and rebellion. Sometimes it was too difficult to speak through the haze. He nodded to his Father because even if he had the strength to speak what else could he do?
“Okay.” Father pulled him forward for a brief hug but Damian felt no warmth as he stood tensed with his arms by the side. He imagined that Father was feeling guilt, he often did when Damian refused to speak. “Let’s go to the kitchen for a snack before dinner, huh?”
Again, Damian motionlessly allowed himself to be led to the kitchen. He would’ve been ignored either way. His thoughts towards the Academy were ignored and the only aspect in his life with meaning was temporarily removed for a significant amount of time. He wished Father could’ve just beaten him. He was used to that. Physical pain was okay. Damian had no idea how to react to this pain inside of him.
Damian laid in bed completely miserable. He left Richard a text on his punishment but the man hadn’t read it yet, most likely out as Nightwing at the moment. He stared at the ceiling simply breathing.
What was his purpose? It was not to just be a kid. He was not a child, he never had been. His mother trained him even before he could walk. Logical brain activities to sharpen his mind. Every other hour practising on his awareness and eye movement. And then he learned to walk and his training became physical. He trained for hours on end, mastering several different types of weapons and fighting styles. Learning from his tutors on subjects those teachers at Gotham Academy have most likely have never even heard of.
He believed in his mother’s love for him. Whilst Talia Al Ghul trained him to the point of nearly requiring the Lazarus Pit on occasions, she told him daily that it was for the sake of his purpose in life. To be the heir to his Grandfather and Father’s thrones. Damian Al Ghul was destined for greatness. For power. For respect. He fully believed that his mother loved him.
And then she sent him to Gotham. He had finally succeeded in his lessons enough to be allowed not only to meet his Father but to stay with him. Damian Al Ghul became Damian Wayne overnight.
He expected some difference, of course. But to be thrust from being a well respected prince to an irrelevant annoyance was startling.
He tried his hardest. He showed off his skills and power. Trained and fought till his bones ached in a way he couldn’t describe. Proved himself worthy of whatever mantel Father deemed good enough for him. And he watched each time, searching Father’s expression for any kind of approval. For a sign that he was doing good. But he has still yet to receive it.
And then Richard came. A man Damian believed to be an opponent slowly became an acquaintance. And Damian believed he knew what love was truly supposed to look like.
Every sign for approval Damian strived to gain from his Father, he didn’t even need to try for Richard to drown him in it. Constant praise poured from the man’s mouth simply from the sight of Damian, let alone if Damian actually put effort into his training. He also always seemed to know when Damian was on the verge of collapsing, when his bones felt a second away from snapping and his stomach so empty from constant training that he felt fainter than he’d want to admit. Richard would sit Damian down, shove food into his mouth and a blanket over him as they watched a horrible child’s film.
Damian would never admit to the feelings his adopted brother forced out of him.
But Richard wasn’t always there. And Richard wasn’t his parent. Damian strived for the same love from his Mother and Father. Perhaps even more. And to obtain it was to fulfil his purpose.
Once he arrived in Gotham he was dismissed, lost and alone. But Richard had given him a new purpose to fight for.
Damian was Robin.
His family didn’t curse or scold him as much since he moved his vigorous energy into being Robin. He was allowed to train in the Cave with several members of the family. He learned from Richard how to truly fly between buildings. Drake shared his knowledge of the Batcomputer at Damian’s request. Jason would practise with him on rooftops when the nights were quiet. Pennyworth would converse with him when mending Damian in the medbay.
And being Robin was the only time Father truly acknowledged him. Batman and Robin. Father trusted Damian to watch out for him, to fight beside him. Damian was respected. He had a purpose.
And that purpose was Robin.
And now Father himself took it away. He benched Robin. He stopped trusting Damian. Stopped respecting him and acknowledging him. What was monitoring the comms occasionally when he wasn’t allowed to fly? To be free? To feel light in the cold Gotham nights when he ran away from the reality of the day that came in the forms of school and galas and whatnot.
Robin was ripped away from his hands all because of his teachers. Because he didn’t show respect to his teachers. That was the main cause. No matter how stupid their assigned work was.
A tear escaped from Damian’s eye, it ran down towards his ear and hid itself in his hair.
Damian would never disrespect a teacher ever again. Not if it meant losing Robin. His purpose.
Never again.