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The first one was a surprise.
Damian couldn’t figure out who had gifted him such a thing initially. It wasn’t his Father because he was away, he was somewhere in Asia for a couple of weeks for business matters. Damian knew this because he insisted on calling home nearly every night, speaking to whichever of his children were present in the manor that evening, asking how they were doing as though he genuinely cared about their lives. Most times it was only Tim but sometimes Dick would be over too. Jason was never present.
Damian pretended he didn’t feel a swell of affection whenever Father told him he missed him. It was nonsense, he couldn’t miss Damian when they barely knew one another. Couldn’t possibly miss Damian when he had yet to contribute anything to the family beyond being a hindrance. Damian had only been living at the manor a mere five weeks and in that time Bruce had been awkward and robotic, a floundering fish who knew not how to breathe on land.
It was amusing initially but it quickly grew stale and predictable. Damian would simply walk into a room and Bruce would panic and flee, unable to say the words to Damian’s face that he needed to. He didn’t seem to have that issue over the phone, he spoke words of emotion with ease.
Damian knew the gift wasn’t from him though, not with him being away.
It wasn’t from Dick either, the oldest of his Fathers other children, for he was in Blud for a case, had been away four days now and Damian tried to pretend he didn’t miss the man, not even when he tried to cuddle Damian who could only flinch away from the contact in terror. He'd thought he was going to hit him the first few times but apparently the individual had constant cravings for cuddles. Still, he hadn't spent that long around Dick but what he had was nice. He seemed pleasant, he could see why Father had taken him in.
Jason didn’t come by the manor. Period.
Damian wished he would, he felt closer to the outcast, the black sheep. They were both murderers and under Batman's rule, criminals… Damian was glad he had Jason might understand him, that sometimes to live killing was the only option. Not that Damian felt like he'd ever had the right to choose anything in his life. His Mother or his Grandfather picked everything for him, they knew best after all.
Tim… Damian could hardly see Tim doing such a gesture, the overworked Teen was busy handling Wayne Industries and his Nightlife as Robin. They hardly saw one another and Damian still felt like a stranger around him. To make it worse, he had to try to bite down his jealousy when he thought about the other boy, of how he had everything Damian should have by birth right.
Mother had promised he would have everything of his Fathers. Had she lied?
So who?
That left Alfred, the Butler.
Damian liked Alfred, his wit was sharp and his humour dry and yet he cared. It wasn’t some ploy to get closer to him to betray him, he genuinely cared for Damian even when he was less than agreeable. It was an impressive feat.
So Damian concluded Alfred must have left it on his bed.
It wasn’t something he’d ever had, he’d seen others with them, be it on TV or when he was in central Gotham but… he’d had no urge for one nor had he asked so why…
Damian picked it up, ran his fingers along white fake synthetic fur and then found himself melting against his will. It was soft, so soft and it felt so nice under his fingertips. He found himself repeating the motion, stroking along the back of the stuffed toy wolf.
Transfixed he couldn’t stop himself, brushing fingers up and down along it before climbing up onto the bed. He curled around the wolf plush and dug his fingers into it, both hands clutching it to his chest and below his chin. He squeezed it, holding it close and closing his eyes. Why did he feel like crying? There was no explanation as to why a simple piece of fabric and stuffing would give him such an emotional response and yet…
Damian felt horrified. He found it cute. It was soft and cute and Damian wanted to name the blasted infernal thing as if it was real- It was a toy and…
Damian sniffled and buried his head into the plush. He’d never been given a gift before. He liked the prospect very much if this was what it entailed.
He'd never tell a soul he cried himself into an afternoon nap over an inanimate object. The humiliation alone would destroy his reputation.
The wolf was named Lillith. Damian had taken the time to research to grace her with the perfect name and while she required a lot less care than Damian’s new kitten (affectionately named Alfred) Damian made sure she received both a morning and an evening cuddle from him, where he carefully brushed through her fur with trembling fingers, apologising in little whispered hitches when his tears soaked into her coat.
He still wasn’t sure why exactly he was overwhelmed with emotional outbursts when he was alone, wrapped around the stuffed animal but it was a common occurrence he couldn’t figure out. It wasn’t worth his time, if nobody knew and Damian had no urge to share then what did it matter?
In the days following Bruce returned home and continued to be awkward around Damian. Damian didn't want his Father to feel like he couldn't be wherever he wanted in his own home so Damian took to mostly holing up in the Cinema Room or his bedroom, if he had only a small number of rooms he frequented maybe Bruce would feel more comfortable.
The Cinema Room quickly became Damian’s second room, he’d almost instantly staked a claim in the darker room. It was almost never used, Damian had only seen it be used once in his Two Month mark in the Manor and it was for a Downstairs Case.
Damian hadn’t been allowed in.
Apparently he shouldn’t be seeing things like whatever it was Father and Dick watched. Damian hardly found himself protesting despite his training.
If it was anything like the League, he shouldn’t be bothered, Mother had him trained by the best, and he didn’t even get scared when someone died in front of him now, he was a good boy and didn’t cry until he was alone. Crying was a weakness, his Mother had told him so. He was only allowed to cry alone and in the dark.
So he let them do their Case and afterwards he had claimed the room as his own.
It was dark and quiet and perfect for Damian to be alone. Perfect for him should he need to cry. He shouldn’t be crying at all, Grandfather would whip him should he ever find out but Mother promised as long as he was alone and nobody saw she would forgive his stupid childishness.
Damian wasn’t sure if his new Father would forgive such weakness.
The Cinema Room was nice though, beyond the two rows of cinema-like chairs at the back of the room, raised up with stairs down the middle, the front was a larger more homely space, four large sofas, a collection of bean bags and cushions and pillows and a soft carpeted ground. Damian had found photos in Dick’s room that had been taken in the room, containing several other superheroes. Damian could recognize the redheaded speedster that Dick seemed to have over often or the pretty dark haired girl who he was certain was Wonder Girl.
The room was large to accommodate several people and yet Damian was alone. He didn’t have friends or teammates like his family. He didn’t even know anyone in this country beyond the people who lived in the Manor and Jason, wherever he lived.
Lilith would be his friend though, she wouldn’t betray him or leave him as long as he kept her safe and let her know he loved her.
Right?
A whole week after Bruce’s return, Damian finally finished his creation. He’d built a more than adequate fort in the Cinema room, large enough for four or five adults. He of course, had no plans to actually share the space except with Lillith but it was exciting to have such a nice sized fort. The structure was a combination of pillows and blankets and bean bags paired with the four sofa’s he’d struggled to turn alone and use the backs of for walls.
The final touches came when Damian brought his bedside lamp in and the inside suddenly became all the more magical, illuminated in the dark room. He sneaked in the occasional snack or extra pillow from the kitchens or spare bedrooms when no one was around, though he supposed Alfred knew because the man seemed to know everything. But other than that, nobody disturbed him or tried to seek him out. They left him to his own devices in his claimed favourite spot. Damian wasn’t sure if this was because they didn’t need him or if they forgot he lived with them until he showed his face at dinner to shyly dip his head down at his food, eat as fast as possible and scamper away once more. It wasn’t often anyone tried to talk to him at dinner and when they did it was usually Alfred or Dick and even then it felt forced.
Damian knew when he wasn’t wanted. He’d never been wanted before.
This changed when the second plush arrived two weeks after he finished his fort. Dick had come into the room, Damian wasn’t sure what for, he’d collected something from the projector room at the back and as such caught Damian snuggled in his blanket fort, head peeking out of one of the doorways to peer at the illuminated big screen, watching a documentary on wolves. He was tucked nicely under a blue sheet, Lillith snuggled beside him under her own smaller quilt, faced to watch the screen. Damian had been mid conversation, telling Lillith the latest wolf facts he'd asked his tutors about and Dick hadn’t said a word about the Fort or Lillith, simply asked if Damian was okay and needed anything to eat or drink. Damian hadn’t even paused to consider Lillith being visible, the fact he maybe wasn’t allowed to build a fort or the fact he'd been caught talking to her, instead he simply shook his head and went back to the show.
Dick had seen and heard though and his brain had been on a constant loop of cooing noises since.
Who knew the resident cult child could be soft? A pillow fort? A stuffed wolf he talked to? Dick went shopping the very next day. He’d been struggling to give Damian the space he clearly wanted when he retreated from them so quickly, maybe this would help bridge that gap?
So, it was a small surprise when two days after said incident a new gift arrived on Damian’s bed while he was with his English tutor.
He hadn’t yet been accepted into school, there was still some paperwork Bruce would need to finish up and an interview that would take place in person. So until that happened, Damian had an English tutor three times a week and a couple of other teachers who helped him catch up with the expected level of knowledge for an American child his age.
This one was grey, a little smaller than Lillith and less soft. Instead the coat of the Elephant was made up of an odd stretchy material that was smooth and elastic rather than soft. When Damian picked him up he was heavier and clearly filled with tiny little balls like a bean bag. Damian failed to contain his squeak of excitement at the prospect, flushing red in humiliation at his lack of composure even when he was alone. The joy he received when squishing the elephant’s leg between his fingers was endless, enjoying the sensation of the little balls moving under the fabric. Damian, even in his shorter stay in the Manor, knew of his Father’s eldest son’s relationship with Elephants, or rather one in particular… so it wasn’t hard to decipher who had left it for him.
Lillith was introduced shortly after to Caiden, her new Elephant brother.
Damian slept with Lillith clutched in one arm and Caiden resting on the opposing side, no longer feeling the urge to sleep with one hand under his pillow on the hilt of a blade… Not to say he didn’t still keep a blade close when he slept but now he had to make sure Lillith and Caiden were snuggled and loved and held tightly when they all slept. He had to make sure they were treated equally.
When Damian wasn’t sleeping or with his tutors, he was in his fort, Caiden and Lillith snuggled in with him while he spoke to the two, be it sharing new facts he’d learnt in his studies or recounting memories, like the time he’d taken down five men and actually earned one of the astoundingly rare nods of approval from his Grandfather. Mother had let him miss a whole day of training to draw and colour as a reward.
Typically all he usually earned from the man was broken bones or bleeding wounds because Damian was never good enough. Telling Lilith and Caiden seemed to help, it made him sad to do so but afterwards he felt a little better when he remembered said events. His nightmares started to reduce and Damian could only deduce speaking his life out loud was some form of personal therapy.
But he was almost happy here besides feeling terribly alone. Father hadn’t introduced any training still, Damian was too scared to ask if the man ever would because what if he’d forgotten? What if Damian asking reminded him and suddenly Damian wouldn’t have these nice quiet afternoons with Lilith and Caiden, instead he’d be back to fighting and killing and he didn’t-
“I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore, Caiden.” Damian mumbled into the stretchy elephant’s ear, holding him tight, Lilith sat in his lap.
“I don’t-” He sniffled, blinking furiously to banish the tears that formed but the tingle in his throat alerted him it was in vain. He sniffled again and reached to flick off the lamp in his fort, curling down onto the soft blankets to muffle his sobs into Caiden’s body, grabbing Lillith blindly with his other hand.
He was only allowed to cry in the dark after all.
He slept that night in his fort, only saddened further when nobody seemed to realise he’d done so the next day. When he’d snuck down to the kitchen later in the morning he’d received a lecture from Alfred about sneaking out of bed early to go watch movies.
Clearly they thought he’d simply gotten up early.
Damian didn’t argue. Alfred was his favourite and he didn’t want the man to hate him. So he only glumly nodded.
A week later, after Jason broke into the Manor and delivered an injured Tim who’d snuck out onto solo patrol, Damian found a new arrival on his bed, tucked between Lillith and Caiden.
When the man had barged in, Dick and Alfred were downstairs and Bruce had been out at a public event as Brucie. Damian had been using the time to sneak food from the kitchen. It was the prime time he knew he wouldn’t be disturbed and yet, here he was, Jason in civies carrying an unconscious, bleeding Tim whose suit was missing and he was covered mostly in what appeared to be Jason’s clothes.
“Couldn’t barge in the front door with Robin.” Jason had grunted out at Damian’s curious look. Jason hadn’t really even looked at Damian when he’d barged into the kitchen, clearly looking for Alfred. He’d simply swept over him like he was a piece of furniture. Damian pretended it didn’t hurt. Other than speaking his explanation for Timothy’s state of dress he said nothing.
Damian subconsciously reached for Lillith who’d been sat on the counter, clutching her close to starve away the feeling of rejection from yet another of his supposed brothers. Bruce had said they’d be his brothers but… what was a brother? Movies made it seem like Damian would have three unbreakable bonds, three people he could trust to always be there for him, to love him. Damian still felt as alone as he had in the League. Maybe brothers meant something different outside of movies. Damian would have to ask his English Tutor next time they met.
So, lost in his thoughts he failed to notice Jason turn back for just a brief moment, eyes flickering in concern over the hunched figure, clutching onto a little white wolf and a guarding Elephant looming on the countertop. Hm. If Dick could gift their adorably shy new sibling something, Jason would too. He liked the kid, he just always seemed scared of Jason and well, Jason didn’t want to scare the poor child, he’d clearly already had a hell of a life in the League, last thing he needed was to be scared in his own home. Jason hadn’t minded steering clear of the Manor until Dick let him know the kid was out of his shell a little more. He’d wait as long as it took for his kid brothers to be okay, Tim included because oh shit yeah, Alfred.
Jason left without another word, his heart twinged at how small and terrified the kid looked curled around the little wolf. Hm, Jason would get him something bigger he could cuddle… After he made sure Tim didn’t die. Priorities.
The new arrival to his room appeared a day later, Damian could tell it was from Jason due to the obnoxious red bow around its neck. Damian scurried into his room and locked the door as soon as he caught sight, pulling the ribbon from her neck carefully. She was beautiful, bigger than both Lillith and Caiden by a mile, almost as long as Damian’s torso, heavier. She was soft but not as soft as Lillith and yet she was a great size for Damian to wrap around and cuddle and feel like it was an actual cat he was clinging to and not a giant snow leopard plush.
Alfred the Cat.. or rather Alfred the Kitten, was still a feisty little thing, swiping at anyone who went close. Damian couldn’t cuddle him yet unless he wanted to be scratched to shit. He dare not bring the kitten into his fort, lest it destroy his hard work.
The leopard was graced with the name Layan. Layan would need a nice little bed making into his fort next time he visited! He’d make sure to give her a nice red blanket, he was almost certain Tim had one he could steal without being caught…
He waited until after dinner when Tim went out on Patrol with Father to sneak in and take the red quilt from his cupboard. Layan was a gift from Jason so clearly her favourite colour had to be Red. It just made sense, Layan would be a fierce protector who loved the colour red like Jason, just like how Caiden loved cuddles and liked to swing from things with his trunk like Dick or Lillith looked after her little siblings just like Alfred looked after the family. He liked to imagine they embodied their previous owner, it made them feel ever more special.
The dilemma came way later that night though when Patrol had ended and the other inhabitants in the house went to bed. Damian realised he couldn’t keep all his new family close against him, someone would have to sleep on the edge. He didn’t want to neglect any of them, they all deserved to feel loved and held next to him. He couldn’t sleep and instead headed down to the kitchen, carrying his small family of plushies with him, Layan wrapped under one arm while Caiden and Lillith were cradled in his other.
He sat all three onto the countertop as he pulled a chair over to climb up into the cupboards. He was halfway into a box of crackers when Tim walked in.
“No, I won’t eat them all, I don’t want to leave them empty but… I promise I’ll eat more than one.” Damian pouted at Lillith whose button stare seemed to urge him to eat more than one measly cracker after fleeing dinner early that evening. He hadn’t eaten much that day. He’d felt an odd sense of anxiety for some reason and his new dilemma wasn’t helping. He felt on edge and couldn’t explain why.
Tim walked in at the moment Damian promised the wolf he’d eat more and froze when the teenager clocked him on the countertop, sat dangling over the edge, legs swinging and munching on plain cream crackers, Layan laid over his lap and Caiden and Lillith on either side of him. Tim, who should still be on bed rest after a nasty stab wound, stared at him.
“Don’t tell Alfred I snuck out.” Tim pleaded, because he’d just wanted a coffee and Alfred had been denying him any, except crappy decaf.
“Um. Okay.” Damian mumbled, still a deer in headlights, he didn’t want to get shouted at for sitting on the counter or taking food outside of meals but Tim didn’t seem to care, he went to the coffee machine and then turned back to look at Damian while the water heated.
Damian slowly put the crackers down and looked at his little stuffed family. His bottom lip wobbled against his will when reminded of his problem. Tim caught the movement instantly.
“What's wrong?” Tim asked, side eyeing Lillith, Caiden and Layan, Damian stared at them, refusing to look at Tim when he spoke.
“Timothy. How do I make sure everyone knows they’re loved equally even if I can’t award them the same amounts of attention?” Damian questioned, twisting his fingers into Layan’s fur coat in a move of anxiousness. Tim frowned.
“Honestly, I’m probably the wrong person for that, have you tried asking Dick? Affection is his thing… but uh, maybe you can try and split your time? Make sure you interact with them all the same? I dunno. Why? What’s wrong? School things?” Tim asked because ah, Damian had not specified who he was talking about. He didn’t have friends at school, he’d finally started and nobody wanted to befriend the strange kid whose English sounded wrong and didn't know how to play games.
Damian couldn’t seem to find a way to connect to any of the other kids in his class, they’d all rather play football or pretend families. Damian had never 'played' before and he didn't know what to do. Some of the other boys had laughed at him when he'd admitted he didn't know how Football worked. Damian hadn't liked that, people laughing at him made his stomach churn and he'd vowed not to try and join in again. He’d found himself shunned so quickly. It was fine. Damian got to stay inside and draw, his Teacher seemed to understand he didn’t want to be outside during recess if he was going to have to stand alone while everyone else played. He liked being able to draw and it was quiet.
Sometimes when one of the other kids screamed Damian couldn’t help but flinch. The sounds felt too similar on occasion to the ones he’d been raised around, the guttural shrieks of fear and suffering as his Grandfather tortured people for sport. Damian knew there was a difference, the classmates' screams were trivial things, perhaps they’d spotted a bee or someone had scared their friend. The haunting screams in his mind were when Ra’s pulled the liver out from a still conscious man and had one of his servants hold Damian’s face between strong fingers, forcing him to watch every second while he taught Damian proper torture etiquette like he was teaching him to tie his shoelaces.
There was a big difference.
Damian still had nightmares about that.
“Yeah.” Damian lied and Tim nodded as he made his coffee. Because he wasn’t truly lying, school things weren’t going great, not that he expected them to be so, but his dilemma at current was closer to his heart than something as pointless as trying to fit in during his education.
“Try asking Dick.” Tim repeated and gave an apologetic dip of his head and fled once more with his drink, about as good at emotions as Bruce. Damian thought Tim was a much better son for his Father than he was. Damian didn’t feel like he was anything like Bruce beyond physical similarities. He didn’t feel strong, didn’t feel like he could go out and take on the worst of Gotham. Damian just felt scared.
Everything was terrifying.
“I promise I will draw up an appropriate schedule where you are all guaranteed an equal amount of time by my side when we sleep.” Damian hummed, picking up his crackers once more to nibble on another, smiling a little when Lillith flopped down from gravity onto her face, almost as though she was nodding. Damian finished his food quickly, put the half full box back in the cupboard, returned the chair and went to pick up the soft wolf.
She would always be his silent favourite even if he promised he had none. He collected Layan and Caiden and took off back towards his room. While he might not be able to keep everyone by his side tonight, he’d make sure to alternate them equally.
Tim seemed to have been paying attention that evening, even if it wasn’t to the right things because two days later he had a big floppy-eared bunny on his bed, black with little white splotches and a soft pink cotton nose. Damian found satisfaction in the way his ears flopped so easily, how fuzzy he felt in Damian’s arms and how he smelt faintly of flowers, Tim had clearly washed him before presenting him to Damian.
He named him Dano.
He made sure to make his new Rabbit friend a place in the fort, a gentle yellow blanket he stole from Jason’s old room used for his little nest. He had to be comfy and warm and able to see the screen when Damian had something on the screen of course.
Everything was looking up. He had four lovely family members now and he could make sure to switch each night, keeping two close to his side and the other two on the edge only to swap the next evening. He made a friend at school, a loud, energetic child who despite being Damian’s polar opposite seemed to stick to his side like glue. He babbled enough for them both and he loved animals. Damian found that to be a win. The kid, Colin, taught Damian how to play some of the games the other children played but they mostly stuck to themselves, even though Colin seemed to be friends with everyone? But it was nice. Damian felt safer almost?
Colin was a nice companion. Damian liked him.
But then things crashed down, when Bruce finally seemed to be able to look at Damian, to speak to him like he wasn’t glass. Damian wasn’t sure what changed. He’d made sure not to get in the man's way or make him awkward or remind him Damian’s training was slacking terribly…So why now was he talking to Damian like he existed?
“Damian, do your new friends have names?” Bruce asked, nodding to the little family of plushies Damian took everywhere with him around the Manor, including the cave. He’d given each new member of his pack a tour of the house when he got them, letting them rest on his shoulders or perch in his arms. They were all perched at the Dinning room table currently as they ate dinner.
“Um.” Damian faltered, noticing how Dick and Tim’s conversation quietened down. It was just the four of them and Alfred at dinner that evening, Jason not present, unsurprisingly.
“I- They do.” Damian mumbled, overcome with a shyness he had never experienced before moving to Gotham. He was confident, he was the heir to the League, he had to be strong… But since coming here he’d felt so scared of everything.
“Th-This is Lillith.” Damian wiped his hands on his jeans and then reached for the wolf, holding her close, pressing his chin into her fur.
“I.. she’s very soft, I like her profoundly, Pennyworth, thank you.” Damian continued to murmur and missed Alfred’s nod and smile as he looked down at the wolf, hoping to gain some of her strength.
He reached for Caiden next.
“This is Caiden… He... he’s not soft but he is squishy. I… I enjoy the feeling. Thank you Grayson.” Damian choked up, unable to explain why his throat felt thick and his eyes wet.
“Anytime Lil D!” Dick beamed. “Caiden is a great name.” He added.
“And uh, this is Layan, she’s big so it’s easy to cuddle her, I- I like holding her, I can pretend she’s real.” Damian whispered, why did he sound so childish? He was meant to be wise beyond his years, he was meant to be beyond the stupid notion of fake animals. “I- I am glad Todd gifted her to me.”
“Jason did? That’s so cute. I gotta text him!” Dick grinned, pulling out his phone. “What a softie.” He chuckled.
“And this is Dano, he’s very floppy, I like his ears a lot, it's fun to um- to swish his ears. T-Thank you Drake and.. And thank you for helping me allocate time between them all so they won't feel lonely.” Damian’s words trailed off into nothing but an ugly hiccupping sob. He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly in tears over simply sharing the name of his stuffed animals. He reached for Lillith on instinct and buried his face into her fur, still mumbling out his words through hitching sobs.
“I- I have never received such nice gifts before. I.. shouldn’t have such things though, Mother will call me childish and burn them when she comes back for me. I don’t want to- I don’t want them to get hurt. Please don't let Mother burn them.” Damian continued to cry, able to feel tears down his cheeks as Dick frantically pushed out his chair and grabbed at Damian, picking up the small boy and holding him on one hip, letting the child burrow into his shoulder.
“Hey, C’mon, Lil D, we’ve got you. You’re allowed stuffies, baby.” Dick rocked gently, meeting Bruce’s concerned, panicked expression. “We wouldn’t dare burn your friends and we won’t let your Mom do that either. She’d not allow you back, you’re ours now baby.” Dick soothed, continuing to rock even when Bruce moved over quickly to ruffle Damian’s hair and stand beside Dick. Tim and Alfred were on their feet too. Alfred departed quickly to the kitchen to collect perhaps some water or maybe a hot chocolate. Tim looked lost and simply stood watching with confusion, reaching for his phone to text Jason about transpiring events.
“Yes, Damian, your Mother is allowed to visit but you won’t be going back to the League, sweetheart. It’s not safe for you there.”
“B-But Grandfather will be angry. I haven’t- You haven’t been training me. I’ll be even- even further behind and.. And I don’t want to be punished again. L-Last time I wasn’t good enough, G-Grandfather locked me in the pit for- for three days. It was dark and cold and I- I didn’t get to eat or use the bathroom.” Damian sobbed into Dick’s shoulder, still clutching Lillith so tightly, missing how Bruce stiffened. He hadn’t liked the pit, not the Lazarus Pit of course, that might have been more agreeable if anything, the way the green depths almost illuminated the cave they were in. No, Damian had been in the pit, a darkened, depleted water well. He’d been dropped into the bottom and left there, with no way to climb out. He’d remained unfed for those three long days and he only knew it had been that long because once a day one of the servants brought him a singular jug of water. Damian wasn’t allowed the jug because his punishment was total isolation, so the fluids had simply been tipped in, from the top, raining down on him. Damian had to desperately hold his mouth open and cup his hands to catch as much as possible. Most of it simply soaked into his clothes and left him feeling cold and damp. It didn’t help that he had no way to relieve himself so Damian had to try and shuffle onto the opposite side of the small well to the side he had to pee on. It smelt bad and it was gross. Damian wished he could cry but it would cost him important hydration and he was too scared he'd be punished further if he was caught crying.
He never went into the pit again. He pushed himself long after, everything hurt so much, when he wanted to cry and for everything to stop. He didn’t want to go in the pit ever again. He’d rather Grandfather pull out his liver like the one traitor he caught.
“Damian, we will never let that happen again. You’re safe here. We promise.” Bruce rumbled, voice angry. Damian couldn’t help but flinch, a terrified whimper between quiet sobs and trembling shoulders. Dick carefully manoeuvred them so he could sit down, Damian on his lap and buried into his chest.
“Come along, Master Damian, this will make you feel better.” Alfred spoke, calmly, returning with a cup of cooled hot chocolate. Dick took the mug while Damian reluctantly turned. Once he was round, Dick held the mug and let Damian take little sips between choked sobs.
His face was red and blotchy, eyes wet and bottom lip quivering all the while.
“Damian.” Bruce spoke his name again and Damian couldn’t help but shake his head and whimper once more.
“Please. I’m sorry for crying. I- I know I- I shouldn’t. Please Father, I’ll do b-better. D-Don’t-” Damian stopped and choked out another noise but the sobs wracking through his little form left him feeling breathless. He coughed and spluttered, unable to get air into his lungs fast enough. This only set off the panic in his stomach. He couldn’t breathe. His eyes darted furiously between Bruce and Alfred as he dropped Lillith to instead curl his fingers into his hair in stressed panic, coughing still around the spit in his throat, desperately trying to breathe. He couldn’t feel his fingers, tingling sensations running down his arms and the same sensation working its way into his face. Was he dying? He didn’t want to die. Who’d look after Caiden? The Elephant needed lots of cuddles. What about Layan? She needed brushing once a day and it took Damian a while because she was big. Lilith needed help looking after her younger chaotic siblings and Dano was only a baby, he was so new he needed help getting used to his new family- Damian needed to be here for them-
He couldn’t hear anything the blurs around him were saying, only that they clearly were speaking. All Damian could hear was blood in his ears and his own wheezing breaths over the static ringing that filled every corner.
And then nothing, just engulfing darkness and sounds that made him feel like he was underwater, so muffled and hard to decipher.
When he woke up, groggily, his throat hurt and his body felt heavy. He cracked an eye open to find he wasn’t in his bed nor his fort. He felt his breathing pick up and he tried to pick apart in the darkness where he was. He’d never seen this room before.
“Damian, sweetheart, you’re safe.” A voice rumbled in the darkness and it was only then Damian realised his position, he was cocooned between two sets of body warmth. A sharp piece of movement and the room flooded with dull light. Damian squinted his eyes for a moment to get used to it. In that time he registered everything better. He was still in the comfy clothes but his socks had been replaced with nice soft bed socks and he was missing his hoodie. Bruce was laid down on one side, the one who’d reached to turn on the light, he was half sat up, resting on one elbow and his side to look at Damian carefully.
On the other side was Dick.
Dick who was sat up and looking slightly confused but ridiculously protective, one arm already stretched to cover Damian from harm.
“Oh. Good morning baby.” Dick smiled, a little soft thing that Damian couldn’t help but mimic, only then noticing that he second family were tucked in between their bodies, Layan and Caiden in between him and Bruce and on the other side was Dano and Lillith. They were all okay. Damian instantly reached for Lillith, pulling her onto his lap where he sat, half under the sheets half not.
“Wh-Where-”
“We’re in Bruce’s room. You passed out, worried the heck outta me, baby. We didn’t want to wake you up. So we decided to have an early night, and didn't want you to wake up alone.” Dick explained, picking up Caiden to sit in his arms, amused by the little Elephant he’d bought and how clearly loved the little toy was.
“Oh. I’m… sorry for the inconvenience. I um- I apologise for my actions. I didn’t mean to um- I know I shouldn’t cry in front of people. Mother told me it was a weakness. I apologize for making demands too, I am still new here and you do not wish to have me around, I shouldn’t think I have any right to demand things. No when you have been kind enough to gift me- To gift me a family.” Damian stumbled and twisted his fingers round a patch of Lillith's fur in a move of anxiousness.
“We want you here Damian, no matter what you think. We thought you needed space and time to get used to living here.” Dick explained.
“Crying in front of others isn’t a weakness, sweetheart, it’s a strength. To not be afraid of other people's reactions. We’re your family and you will never be punished for crying. Emotions aren’t wrong.” Bruce added as though he hadn’t been an emotionally constipated Bat the entire time Damian had been here.
“And as for demands, you’re allowed to ask for things Damian, please let us know when you need or want anything.” Dick butted in, because Bruce was a Billionaire, it wasn’t as though he wasn’t without the money to buy whatever his children wanted. If anything, it was unusual for a seven year old to not demand anything and everything he saw. Of course they knew Damian would be different, thanks to his upbringing, but he was only seeing him break down over the prospect of losing a simple stuffed animal, so full of gratitude as a mere cheap gift that solidified how different he really was, how much he deserved better, deserved love and hugs and happiness.
“Am I- May I hug you, Damian?” Bruce questioned carefully because he didn’t want to breach any boundaries, especially with how the child had flinched at Bruce’s voice at dinner, at the way he so clearly had issues with stern voices or authority figures. When Bruce next ran into Ra’s or the League, he wouldn’t pull his punches in the slightest. He couldn’t help but feel the same way for the man as he did the Joker. He longed to be able to kill them but he couldn’t afford to. The way Jason had asked it of him-
Bruce couldn’t but oh how he wished he could end those who dare hurt his children.
Instead, all he could do was promise to be better, to keep them from such harm ever again. To love them and protect them and provide for them like a parent should.
Damian nodded slowly and Bruce couldn’t help the smile on his face at Damian’s small warm wrapped in his arms, at the way his own child melted into the contact, so starved for physical affection, the way Dick cooed and wrapped the quilt around them both, slipping out of Bruce’s large bed to head to the bathroom but shooting them one more fond look.
Things weren’t great, they’d messed up a lot, they’d let Damian think he wasn’t loved, that his new home was just like the League, in some logic that the child would want space, would want to be alone- When clearly all he’d wanted was to feel wanted, to feel loved, to feel safe. Unafraid in his own home.
Bruce would do better. He had to, for all his sons.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart, I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”
“Mm, thank you F-Father.” Damian whispered. Bruce heard him.