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( The moment that signal goes off, he's suiting up — jumping into his batmobile and peeling his way out of the "cave" and onto the streets, heading to where it indicates Damian is.

He tries to make contact with the kid but doesn't seem to get anything. Cursing under his breath, he's reminded of how he just couldn't make it in time to Alfred. How no matter how fast he drove — no matter how many times he dialed the number for home, he was too late. Couldn't reach him. Wasn't fast or strong enough to protect him. Those same horrors rush through him as he goes, weaving his way through terrain and across roads that twist and turn. Right for Nova City, heart pounding in his ears.

Pulling up to where the signal is saying it's coming from, he parks the car. Nearly throws himself out of it, cape flowing behind him, already pulling out his grapple to make the trip up the fastest way he can rather than even think of entering the building. So he fires the grapple hook — hears the way it hits and sticks to part of the building, and then he's pulling and rushing his way up, hoping he isn't too late. )

( there are limitations, to how far one can push batman before he loses control. before his behavior becomes erratic, and his decision-making skills begin to waver. damian is well aware of just how one can push him over the edge. he remembers his death well, even if the points between that death and his resurrection is a time he would rather not dwell over. damian knows the lengths batman will go to to save those close to him. knows how much he will bend, how hard he'll push himself. perhaps they haven't known each other long: this younger, newer version of batman versus this older, more accustomed to the ways of the bat version of damian. but they hadn't known each other for long when damian had gotten skewered by his clone on his mother's orders either.

when the grapple hits the corner of the building, his head tips over to look toward it, but doesn't do anything about it. batman approaches, and robin remains perched on the edge of the building, cloak thrown fully behind him to leave his uniform on display: there are no new tears, no signs of damage, nothing to show he isn't okay.

nor does he acknowledge the panicked way batman had exited his car, the swift speed at which he was trying to get to damian without even checking the facility below them. this would generally be where damian throws in a comment about how ill-advised his quick approach was, but instead damian settles for an easy, almost questioning, )

Father.

( welcome to his rooftop, where he was not waiting for bruce to come find him. )

( It’s honestly rude of him to do this to his younger father, but. Here they are. Here Bruce is making his way over to Damian there dressed in his gear… only to find the boy unharmed and clearly not in any sort of peril.

The look on his face — the way steps remain heavy despite slowing as he comes closer… confusion mixed with disbelief and a little bit of something else. A scowl. That’s it. )

I thought you were in danger.

( it is rude. terribly so. not that damian has ever been put off by being rude, but he's generally careful not to clog up emergency lines unless it is for an emergency. but this time is different.

not just because his father has been sulking about within his cave. not just because damian feels he needs to get him outside, because he can't keep brooding. it's more complex than that.

in ways he isn't getting into, especially when he's looking over to batman, then down to his gauntlet, switching the screen on and fussing with it until the sos alarm turns off. )

Ah. My apologies. It must have been a mistake.

( The frustration bubbles there in him — does his best to reel in his temper he can feel rising in him, but it's written all over his face how annoyed he is by this little stunt of his. It's even there in his voice when he speaks. )

That alarm isn't a toy, Damian. If you need me, there's other ways to go about it.

Edited 2025-01-06 23:02 (UTC)

( his father is irritated with him, and damian can't blame him for it. if bruce had pulled the same move on damian, he would be angry, too. it's a waste of resources. damian, however, goes outside and communicates with people, and uses his words. the stakes are different.

or maybe they aren't. this bruce isn't much more than a child either, young and new to the cowl, to batman. and everything that comes along with it. the careful, near-bored expression on damian's face evaporates in a moment, replaced with something much closer to angry. he drops the act of pretending like he hadn't known anything about it, because he's - )

Is that right? If I had asked you to come without giving you a proper reason, would you have? Or would you have told me that you're busy - "Not right now, Robin, I have work to attend to", "I have a prototype to finish", "I have dozens upon dozens of projects I am working on that I simply cannot put down until they're finished despite how useless all of our efforts here clearly are and - "

( hold on. he's taking a breath, pulling himself up to his feet, and shoving at his gauntlet with his opposing hand to intentionally remove the addition bit that powers the alarm system. )

Forget it! I'm not a child, I've never had toys, and I know what the alarm is for!

( Damian moves and he watches — watches the way he goes about touching his gauntlet and he reaches out then. Grabs hold of his arm, grip tight. )

Enough.

( The word comes out like a growl almost. )

I thought something had happened to you. I thought you needed my help. You don't just scare a person like that as a means to get them to come to you, Damian.

( enough, he says. enough, after he grabs hold of damian and holds onto him tight.

you dishonor your sensei with this loss of composure! your rage is born of fear and is unbefitting in a student of the martial arts!

it had been the first time bruce had lost his composure around damian, the first time he'd started yelling at him, and the first time bruce had successfully shut damian up from his rantings and ravings. his father had been correct: his rage had been born of fear. fear of not living up to expectations. fear of disappointing bruce. fear of not knowing what was next, after his mother left him with his father. and it's fear that fuels this outburst, too. but damian is older, now. he isn't ten and struggling to figure out where he fits in his father's home. he's fourteen, and struggling to know where anything fits.

so he raises his voice louder, screaming back at bruce. )

Something did happen! Multiple somethings! I do need your help! Perhaps if you would just - fuck!

( fighting back and out of bruce's grip would be easy. he could twist his arm enough to dislocate his thumb, slip his hand right out. drop his weight back. instead, he's shoving his weight forward, trying to push himself off the ledge of the building entirely to escape bruce's hold. damian can catch himself easily enough if he does fall, he's not - concerned about that. )

( Ordinarily, when faced with a challenge, he either punches his way through it or solves it with only a few simple cues — or clues — within a matter of moments. The way Damian pushes— the way he angrily screams at him like he is... it leaves him completely at a loss with what to do and how to handle this particular situation.

He steels himself — refuses to let Damian push either of them and keeps his tight grip on his son's arm. There's a part of him that wants to let him go. That wants to yell in his own frustration of not knowing what it is Damian wants from him and take off down the side of the building. His heart still races with that fear that had struck him upon seeing the blinking of the alarm there — every worst case scenario flooding his entire being at the thought of something terrible having happened to Damian and not being there for him. He's not his father — he hasn't raised him or been with him as long as his own has... but they've still been together here where Damian has refused to leave his side no matter how dark his own mind becomes. The things they've been through — the way he's held him against him when he's needed to rest and feel safe... the thought of losing him now is one he can't bare.

He's just... never admitted that. Even to himself. Aside from in this moment and his racing here.

Eyes closing, he takes a moment, quick as it is, to steel himself there — to try and take control of the situation and take this as a child trying to get the attention of their parent. Because that's what it has to be and he's been there himself once upon a time. When he opens his eyes, it's with a breath there on his lips. )

What— what happened? Talk to me.

( he wanted to get bruce out of the tower. wanted to get him outside because they're getting close to the time for another mission, and holing himself up isn't going to assist them with getting through what aurora throws at them next. they need to be prepared, they need to know their surroundings, those who they are fighting with and against if it comes down to it. his father has been gloomy ever since kent disappeared, and damian - understands quite well how that feels. he hasn't seen jon in nearly a year, after having spent so much time bonding with the boy. losing a partner hurts. losing a father hurts, and damian has lost his countless times despite only having known him for a third of his lifetime.

bruce closes his eyes, and damian screeches as he pulls against the hand on his arm. but it's futile, just pushing his weight back to pull away from bruce like this. what's worse is he knows how futile it is: damian knows how to escape someone's hold, he knows how to get bruce specifically to release him if necessary, he knows how to fight back. but he's just - yanking himself back as if that will do anything useful. )

Laura is gone! ( has been, for a long time. ) Lisieux is gone! Connor is gone! There is a Kryptonian here who claims to be Superman, a man who isn't you who claims to be another Batman, and - another, significantly older Batman!

( When it comes out — when Damian goes and shouts the various things that have happened it's... a lot. To be fair, he hadn't really known what to expect when he asked, but. Damian tells him— shouts it at him as he yanks and pulls to free himself from the grip there on his arm.

The other Superman, he knew about — had received the group message about it a little bit ago. Laura he also knew about with Damian having told him. Lisieux he... doesn't know who that is— was, but. Clearly someone Damian knew and possibly had a fondness for.

It's the other two things that have him pause — have him stare to the young Robin there. Stupefied. )

What are you talking about?

( the yanking and struggling isn't getting damian anywhere, and in the back of his mind, damian realizes that's - what he's after, here. there are dozens and dozens of ways to escape from someone holding onto him by his arm, and several of them wouldn't even cause his opponent much physical harm. he is fully aware he's capable of escaping, but instead he goes entirely slack in bruce's hold. the anger etched into his expression morphs into something closer to dejection. )

There's another Bruce Wayne. I found him investigating the Tower some time ago - he's at least in his mid-seventies. He knows Grayson and Drake but only recognized who I am due to my similarity to my mother.

( then the anger comes back, frown twitching into a scowl but it only lasts mere moments, because he's - upset. angry, yes, but it's trepidation disguised as dejection disguised as anger and he would like to be angry. to scream and fight rather than anything else because he knows how to fight and win. the rest is more - complex. )

And another Batman, which you would know if you would have paid attention!

( Another Bruce Wayne. It's a possibility he knows exists, Damian proof enough of that and while he can't exactly say he's dealt with anything of the sort in terms of having experience with such a thing, especially where he's from, being here has made it rather clear just how many possibilities there are out there. But another Bruce Wayne... a much older version from the sounds of it... he doesn't quite know how to feel about that... hasn't exactly been something he's wanted to personally explore or deal with himself. The fact that he didn't seem to know who Damian was implies it's not a much older version of the father he has with him back in his own Gotham and yet... hm.

His grip on Damian loosens some, likely due to his mind going into a state of shock. Or maybe it's denial. Maybe it's a number of things simultaneously, but. He doesn't let go of him — stares past him for a moment, takes the knowledge given to him and files it away before he's looking back down to him. )

You said he claims to be another Batman. Unless he happens to be an alternate version of you, that title's not his.

( bruce's grip loosens, but damian has already decided go limp is the best method out of. . . this. he notes the moment he could easily yank his arm free, but opts not to.

this is safer territory. something he can focus on without working himself up again. )

Ha. There are other, capable Batman who have taken up the mantle in times of need. ( grayson specifically. when drake wore the cowl, it was a bad time for everyone. ) He did not react to the name Wayne. I doubt he is. . . that closely related to us. He's familiar with the new Superman; they reside in the same building currently.

Borrowing it doesn't make it theirs. You said it yourself, it's your birthright.

( That he would one day take up the mantle for himself... when his father is no longer able to, depending on the reason.

Gently, gloved fingers still holding to Damian, he drops himself down on bended knee — slides his hand just under his son's arm where his other hand does the same to Damian's other arm and he holds to him like that. Makes sure he's not about to let himself fall due to his going limp, and looks up to him with those blue eyes through the thick paint smeared across his eyes. )

I'm sorry I haven't been there. Not in the way I should have been.

( the fall doesn't scare him. damian will catch himself, he always does. he could drop from a helicopter without any gear and he'd still find a way to land on his feet. years of training ensured that a fall would never be the death of him. bruce moves to support him, and damian wrinkles his nose, but does opt to shift his weight so he's holding himself upright and isn't in danger of dropping. there's no longer a need to try and escape from his father. )

Connor was my friend, and I was unnecessarily cruel to him.

( it's not a direct response, but it doesn't need to be. bruce will understand. )

I'm. . . tired of losing people. Of being forgotten or simply unknown.

( In his grief that's stretched as long as it has with losing Clark here, he's neglected to really be there for Damian, regardless of how often the young Robin has touted he's more than capable of taking care of himself. It's not the same. It's different. He knows it himself. It's why he can only remain silent as he stares down there, still on bended knee in front of him, still holding to his arms in a way that's both gentle and supportive.

The idea of another version of himself here — albeit a much older one — doesn't entirely sit well with him and he's liable to spiral about that on his own a few times, but. This isn't about him and this isn't the time to let those thoughts and insecurities consume him to the point of being unable to see Damian right there in front of him. He needs to be here for him. Needs to start being here for him. Again. Or better.

Lifting his gaze up, he stares to the young Robin, voice soft when he speaks. )

I know. I'm sorry, Damian.

( For all that he's had to deal with here. )

( he hates this part, too. wishes this had gone significantly closer to how he originally planned for it to, instead of it turning into this. because now damian's exhausted, and he wants out. unfortunately, damian also realizes that bruce hadn't known about the other him, or kirk, and now they're - here. damian sucks in a breath through his nose then rises onto his knees so he can slide his arms up and around bruce's shoulders. leans into him. )

You had better not disappear on me. Or forget me. Ever.

( in case bruce was planning on it, which damian doubts - but he wants it out there that it's not allowed. )

( When the arms come around his shoulders, his own snakes behind Damian's back — holding to him. He's quiet, arm tight around the boy, and he remains like that for a good long moment before he's letting his gaze drop and, eventually, fall shut entirely. )

I could never forget you. No matter what this place does... I could never.

( Or his heart could never. )

( damian considers telling bruce that he can't promise that. none of them can. his father had prepared for everything, but he'd still returned with no memories of what made him batman, which also meant forgetting damian and the others.

his grip around bruce's shoulders is loose; more resting against him than anything else, but damian stays that way and doesn't move away. he stays quiet, for a good few moments.

then grumbles a soft, )

Your response time wasn't terrible.

( He likes to believe, regardless of how naive it is, that his heart, at the very least, wouldn't forget. How could it now after all the time— the almost year they've spent together here?

Gloved hand splayed against his son's back, he keeps holding to him — lets Damian rest against him for as long as he needs. Maybe he needs this, too. It's been... awhile, after all. Going back to his default hermit tendencies where even Alfred has a difficult time getting through to him. Some habits die hard. Some patterns are difficult to break. Sometimes you just need someone there to wake you up from the slumber you don't even realize you've fallen into with eyes open. )

Could have been better.

Keep a spare chest plate and cowl in the car.

( just a suggestion. damian starts to pull back, but only enough so he can get his arms in under the cape rather than on top of it. he presses against bruce again after, lowering his head so his cheek is pressing against said chest plate, and - drags the cape in around them both.

this younger, newer version of his father has embraced him countless times. damian assumes - perhaps he needs this. he had been sulking, for good reason. losing a friend is never easy; damian has lost several, so it's a feeling he understands well.

even if that attachment is something his mother had often discouraged. )

( He hasn't yet dealt with the significant losses that are likely a possibility for him to be forced to live through. Hasn't built a family for himself in any shape or form. Hasn't yet even fallen in love with a particular cat or Damian's mother where his heart will no doubt be broken over and over again through the years, most of the time because of his own doings. Clark had been someone like him in the sense of being new to the name and having expectations of a legacy not yet formed thrust upon his shoulders in a way anyone isn't entirely sure how to handle even on a good day. They'd had that in common — had slowly been looking to trust one another and then... he'd disappeared and Bruce had to, once again, deal with a loss of someone he [could have] cared for being ripped out of his life and against his will.

It's never easy for him. Even if it's been awhile. He never handles any sort of loss well.

If he were to lose Damian here... if he were to leave this place and go back to his own Gotham and his own father... it would be best, he knows. Where he should be and where he needs to go after all this... but that doesn't mean he'll handle it well. Doesn't mean he won't grieve or become angry or spiral into some self-destructive pattern where he doesn't care what happens to him so long as he can numb the pain even just a little. He knows he won't take it well, so he holds to him there as he curls up beneath his cape — as he presses his cheek against the chest plate and just stays there with him. Holding him. Shielding him from the city skyline around them as he stays there with him, gaze down. )

And grease paint.

( It's an attempt at a joke. Mostly. )

Ha.

( he could bring up how impractical the greasepaint is again, but - there's only so many times damian can nag bruce over something before it becomes too much nagging. he knows it's impractical. or, practical for what he was working with before, but now he's got something nifty called lenses which actually protect his eyes among their numerous other technological advancements. damian doesn't need to point that out again, so he doesn't bother with the snide comment sitting at the tip of his tongue.

instead, he keeps his arms around bruce. sits there for a good several more moments in complete silence, before he bothers opening his mouth again, )

Are you going to be alright?

( Every bat has to start somewhere.

He lets Damian stay where he is — keeps his arm around him for as long as he needs. It's just the two of them up here and they aren't in any sort of danger of any means, so. Remaining like this is what he does and, again, it feels as if it's been awhile.

When Damian speaks, he lifts his gaze up ever so gently. )

Why wouldn't I be?

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