Work Text:
Bruce’s Point of View
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“Please! Help him!” I looked up quickly. This happened to be one of the days where I would get together with all of the previous Robins. We would usually train, maybe even patrol together. Today it would just be me, Dick, Jason, and Tim. Damian was going out to patrol with Jon. I was glad for their friendship, it was something Damian desperately needed.
My eyes widened in panic as my eyes fell upon Jon. He was carrying Damian, covered in my son’s blood. “Damian!” Dick screamed, running over to his little brother as quickly as he could. The others followed. As prickly and mean as they could be to each other, they loved each other dearly and would die for each other in a heartbeat.
“Oh God,” Dick pleaded, “Not again. Please not again.” Bruce followed Dick’s eyes. The blood was flowing from a stab wound in the chest. Bruce took a sharp intake of breath. Memories of holding Damian in his arms raced through his mind. His cold skin, his empty eyes, his tiny lifeless body. He couldn’t lose his little boy again.He wouldn’t be able to survive it this time.
“I-I’m fine. It’s not that bad.” Damian’s voice was shaky, and his skin was pale. But worse was his eyes. They were so…broken.
Alfred wasted no time on putting Damian on the medical table. Tim handed him the medical supplies, with a worried frown on his face. In any other situation I would have felt proud of him for caring so much for Damian. Their relationship has come a far way since their first meeting.
“What happened?” Jason’s rage could be clearly heard. I had no doubt in my mind that he desperately wanted to punch someone's face in. But below that layer of anger I could hear his fear as well. “Who did this!?” Jon flinched.
“He-he called her Mother.”
“Oh God,” Dick was clearly sobbing now. He grabbed Damian’s hand, holding it tightly to his chest.
The rest of us weren’t doing much better. I was lost in a daze of panic. The only thing flowing through my mind was the question of ‘why?’ How could she claim to love our son then continue to put him through hell again, and again. I could faintly hear Tim’s gasp of breath and Jason swearing loudly.
Alfred’s eyes were narrowed in pain and sorrow. I knew that if Taila ever came across Alfred that she would be staring down the barrow of Alfred’s shotgun. And unlike me, Alfred didn’t give a damn about crossing lines.
I crouched next to Alfred. I couldn’t just let my son bleed out slowly without my help, even if he was in good hands.
Alfred gasped in terror as he took off Damian’s chest plate to reveal the wound. I ignored looking at the large, long vertical scar that scaled from his collar bone to his waist, in favor of the fresh wound over his heart.
My breath was knocked out of me. “H-how?” Damian tiredly looked at me.
“I moved my heart.” Confusion overtook my mind. I didn’t understand and the fear of losing my son was clouding my mind.
Dick half chucked, half sobbed. “It’s something he can do. He did it once when Hush tried to stab him.” He squeezed his brother’s hand even tighter.
Tim smiled half heartedly, trying to distract everyone with a bit of normalcy and humor. “Of course the brat would know how to move his own organs. What were we thinking, doubting him like that?”
Alfred continued to work on Damian as we all watched in concern and fear. Damian was very pale and had lost a lot of blood. He sluggishly look at Jon who was silently crying.
“T-t. I’m going to be fine.” Jon continued to cry. I could see his anguish in his eyes. He didn’t want to lose his best friend, and the guilt for not being quick enough was a heavy weight on his heart. Damian must have saw it too for he looked straight into Jon’s eyes and told him that he thought Jon was better than this and would do better than irrationally blame himself for something that clearly wasn’t his fault.
Jon sobbed and grabbed Damian’s other hand. “What happened Jon?” I asked as gently as I could. Jon was almost like another son to me by this point. I knew Clint felt the same for Damian. After everything we’ve all been through, it would be hard not to feel that way.
“Talia came after us. And...and I couldn’t stop her.” Damian squeezed Jon’s hand.
“Neither could I.” Damian looked down, an unknown emotion burning in his eyes. Worry spread through my chest. For Damian to show any vulnerability must mean that it something very terrible occurred. Alfred was done tending Damian’s wound by this point, so Jon gently wrapped his arms around Damian.
“You did what you had to do.”
“No...I didn’t,” Damian replied softly.
“If you didn’t kill her, then I would have.” Jon’s voice was harsh and filled with determination. A cold weight settled in my chest. I could see the look of horror and understanding in everyone’s expressions. I was sure a similar look was upon my face as well.
A look of shock crossed Damian’s face, before settling into a look of affection. I knew how hard he struggled with his morals and principles, and how afraid he was of his family and friends judging him on them. I gave Damian a reassuring smile. No matter what he did, we would always love him. He slowly returned Jon’s hug.