I really want to give baby Damian Martha Waynes eyes.
And then take them away before Bruce has a chance to see them.
Just like for one reason or another the Batfam ends up having to go to the League and Damian is sent off by Talia to join his peers in morning katas while the elder family members meet in her office for something.
And of course all of the Batfam are little snoops so they walk around her office and look at the documents and few pictures she has. And then suddenly Tim notices something.
"I thought Damian had your eyes Talia?" Tim says staring down at a picture of a 3 or 4 year old Damian with muddy green eyes rather than the bright almost toxic ones the family is used to.
"No, not at all, I don't even remember what color my eyes originally were." Talia responds barely digging through some files that Bruce needs.
"What does that mean?" Dick asks harshly.
" You didn't truly think the Al Ghul eyes were truly the Al Ghul eyes did you?" Talia scoffs "They're Lazarus eyes, why do you think Jason's eyes match ours?"
"I. I didn't think of that, huh" Jason mumbles dragging his hands along the different books Talia keeps.
"So... So when did Damian die?"
That brought silence to the room.
Jason stopped walking, Dick stopped breathing, Tim was looking sadly at Talia, eye shifting to Bruce as he stared at a wall.
"About 3 months before his 5th birthday, it was before my Father and I started to actually train him. An assassin snuck in after infiltrating the guard for a few months. Apparently he wanted Damians death to be slow. He perforated a lung, I managed to get there and kill the bastard, but Damian couldn't be saved without the pit." Talia says robotically.
"I do miss his eyes though, such a soft green" she almost whispers.
Bruce walks over to Tim, lightly taking the photo.
His breath shuttered for a moment.
He stroked his fingers over the eyes that he will never see again, that were taken from him far to soon. Both times.
"Those are my mother's eyes." He says
"He had my mother's eyes."
He stares, unable to do anything but mourn what he didn't know he lost again.
"Do you have more pictures from before?"
"Of course beloved, I'll make you copies"
The room remained silent spare the shuffling of papers and the drag of Bruce's finger over the glass frame
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