Bruce, exasperated: I don't understand why all my children choose to resolve their anger through violence, I taught them better than this!
Dick, Jason, Cass, Tim, and Damian watching their father bash the joker's teeth in, stab him in the shoulder, and push him into the lake after Joker called him a loser: Yeah, a total mystery.
Warnings: Angst no comfort, major character death. Mainly Damis pov.
3.2k words.
In all his life Damian never had opportunities to be loved, even more when the said love didn't demand something back from him. Of course his mother loved him, but this was different. When he first came to Gotham to meet and live with his father, he already knew about his siblings, but the one who caught his attention was Y/N, his blood brother, with an eight years age gap, and Bruce's firstborn. Unfortunately for him, he was on a mission outside Gotham, so he got to know each one of the family members except them.
“Damian uses a katana too…”- Drake acknowledged, making Damian frown at the word ‘too’.
“Who besides me uses it?”
“Y/N, though he uses it in a dual style. Twin katanas.”
The youngest grumbled a small ‘Tsk’. That was his thing, he trained with it since he learned how to walk properly, despite not admitting it, it did hurt his ego. Not only he wasn't his father's only blood child, but now something he learned since a toddler wasn't unique for him anymore. Even so, Damian held himself high trusting his hard work and precision couldn't get outdone by anyone.
That is, until he saw you fight…
Graceful
That's the only word that came to his mind. Having come to patrol with his father, after what felt like an eternity on time out, he didn't expect for you to join the fight right after coming back from the mission. It was a dance, dangerous and alluring in the way both katanas moved at your will. Your body moved with precision and control, every motion seemed measured, nothing unconnected.
He saw the way your eyes lit up when looked at Bruce. The way you had no shyness when hugging at Bruce, arms circling his body and moving under his cape, as if you were still a child.
His brother exuded love and care, everything unlike Damian. So imagine the surprise of the ten year old when the same warm eyes looked at him as if he was something precious, he felt that even if he crossed the katana in his hand through the older one he would still look at him with those molten eyes. And what a dangerous thought that was, it made Damian's chest turn into something he couldn't quite name it.
In the cave, the atmosphere felt warm, everybody welcoming Y/N with open arms and smiles. Even Tim, who Damian noticed not liking much physical affection, did not complain when the boy wrapped his arms around him. Being born as the heir of the league of assassins and coming to Gotham determined to be Bruce's rightful heir, for the first time the boy felt threatened.
“You.”- His voice came out sharp, making Y/N as well as the other sibling turn to him.- “Fight me.”
The older boy stared at him confused, a small ‘huh?’ coming out of his mouth and before he could answer Drake interrupted.
“Don’t listen to him, I already had a hard time with all this bullshit of legacy and rightful place”- Tim said, putting his arms in front of the older one and barring him from Damian.
“Tim. Damian.”- Bruce, tired of stopping the fights, called both the teens with a stern voice.
“Tsk. Don't meddle, Drake.”
He wasn't going to let it go, even if it cost his patrol privileges. Despite the youngest determination, Y/N just let a small chuckle and crouched down to the boys level.
“You can have everything you want Damian, but grow up healthy, will you?”
The wide smile of his older brother made him uncomfortable, not because it hid something, actually Damian preferred it did so the feeling in his chest would be easier to die down. Yet, the warmth in it woke up something he did not know he was hungry for.
To be loved even in his flaws, with nothing in return.
After a few months, Damian had got used to it. No more fights, no more attempts in hurting or scaring his brother away, even because nothing worked on the young man.
“Careful Dami, I still need my arms.”- Y/N said with a small smile.- “I think I would die of sadness if I had to give up on my swords due to an injury. Y'know right, Dami?!”
And god… He knew. The feeling of losing something you loved with body and soul, something you worked so hard to achieve and keep. He knew. That peaceful demeanour you had while training had always left Damian staring, though he would never admit it.
Murmuring a low ‘TT’, the boy decided to leave you alone that day, which came to bite him back, as you cling to him thinking he finally accepted you. He did…
Mornings at the manor were always calm, including this one, but this time something couldn't quite sit right with Damian. Everything was the same, Titus was alright, his father too and his siblings were all there. So why?
Descending the stairs with the calm demeanour he always had, Y/N soon joined the table, only stopping to kiss Damian's forehead.
“Tsk, the people in this house lack respect for boundaries.”- He complained, but the faint redness in his face gave him out, making his siblings laugh and a wave of jokes filled the table.
Bruce stared at them with a proud smile, features softening at the sight of the children he loved so dearly. Treasuring the moment as if it was the last.
Because it was, at least for Y/N.
The afternoon passed as slowly as it could, the pressure on Damian's chest filling his whole day with anxiety. He couldn't pinpoint what left him feeling this way, only that it held his throat tight not letting the air in or out, despite not physical impediments. Bruce noticed, of course he did, be it the way his youngest fidget his fingers or the unusual tremble in his words, he took notice of it all.
“What is bothering you?”
Damian thought about lying, not really used to sharing his feelings, but he knew it wouldn't fool his father.
“I don't know, I never felt like this.”
“Like what?”- Bruce pressed further.
“Like I'm about to choke on my own tears.”
Bruce took a look at his son, aside the frown in his face, Damian showed no signs of crying. Despite that, he still understood what the boy meant, bringing his hands to rub small circles on his son's back. A small reassuring gesture.
“Thank you for sharing it with me. I'll ask Alfred to brew some chamomile tea and since you're staying home today, try tiring your body a bit with training, okay? If it doesn't work to soothe your anxiety, we can look for other methods."- His father said, a firm hand rubbing his shoulder carefully and Damian nodded.
Following his father's advice, he tired his body in order to ease at least a bit of the turmoil in his mind. Still, it was when he heard the frantic voice of Tim in the cave that all his progress was lost.
“Shit, it is at the mall. The whole building is filled with Joker's henchmen.”- The monitors displayed the whole security cam system.- “Fuck B, Y/N is struggling to protect a room of civilians, wheres Red Hood? We need reinforcements.”
It was all the youngest heard before slipping in his gear and charging his way to his older brother. His mind was a race of thoughts, that uncomfortable unease crawling its ways to the pit of his stomach, yet he kept going.
The mall was a mess, people running, cops fighting the henchmens as Damian made his way towards Y/N. Having just ended an intense training, his body was already worn out, making the boy slower to what he is used to in a patrol.
“Robin, what are you doing there?”- Drake's voice filled the comms, finding the small shadow through the cameras.
“Robin?”- Bruce questioned, voice hushed and dark.- “I told you to stay at home.”
“You need reinforcements”
“Thats why we called Hood.”
“Tsk, my brother needs me.”- That was all the boy said before stopped answering the comms.
He was close to the place he saw in the batcomputer, just a bit more until he found his brother. Y/N held a door, which should be an automatic one, with both hands keeping it open, as the door still tried to close. The joker gas filled the room, but escaped through the door the young man kept open, the civilians there making their best to not inhale any of it.
As long as the door stays open, nobody dies.
“Y/N, behind!”- Damian called through the comms meeting the eyes of his brother, who looked back at his call and showed him a small smile.
As fast as he could, Damian entered the room passing under his brother’s arm and started to evacuate the citizens carefully, struggling a bit with the ones who were already affected by the Joker’s gas.
“Good job, Buddy.”
Bruce heard the exchange, his mind at little more at ease that both his sons were together. Still, things were far from being fine, he still had not found Joker.
“When you finish, go back home Robin.”
“Tsk, I'm fully capable of helping…”
“Robin, please.”
This time Y/N intervened, which led to the youngest agreeing. It was when Damian was rescuing the last civilian that everything went downhill, in the blink of an eye the sharp dagger crossed his brother’s back until it reached his stomach. One side of the door closed on one of the Y/N sides as he lost the strength in his arms.
Damian yelled for his older brother, forgetting the civilian behind as the henchman threatened to stab his brother once more. In the cave, Tim felt a shiver run down his spine at the image, the words came out trembling as he begged Bruce to go help, which already changed routes to meet his children.
“Robin, the civilian.”
“You're bleeding.”
“Robin!”- He yelled, making the boy retreat.- “The civilian, please.”- Softer this time, Damian decides to obey.- “When you get them out, I'll let go of the door. Don't worry about me, I got this okay?!”
His reassuring smile flashed through Damian's eyes and he nodded at his brother. Just a bit more. Grabbing the civilian by the arm, the small vigilante made his way to the exit of the place. He didn't see it but he heard the sound of the sharp blade finding its way towards his brother again and also when the doors closed behind him.
“Y/N, where are you? Please answer.”- Bruce practically begged his firstborn to reply.
“third floor, close to the movie theater”
The answer came weak and with it a wave of blood invaded Y/N mouth, both wounds in his middle leaking the thick crimson. But he didn't have any time to spare, fighting back at the man that stabbed him not knowing the worst was yet to come.
Caught in the heat of the fight against the Joker's lackey, the young adult didn't notice when the structure above them started to collapse. The beam above them groaned, dust drifted from the ceiling with every tremor, settling in Y/N hair. With one last noise of metal scratching metal, the structure gave way. The pain that followed was excruciating, taking away from the young man a cry of pure and hallucinating agony. Bruce's voice invaded the comms asking about his son's well being, but never got an answer from Y/N, only for Drake who was still monitoring the security cams. His arm remained pinned beneath the twisted steel support, numb from the elbow down. He had pulled, twisted, and screamed himself hoarse trying to free it. Nothing worked.
Trying to calm himself down, Y/N did what he could to control his breathing, the adrenaline in his veins slowly making the pain subsidize. It was in the middle of high-pitched and deafening noises that Y/N heard Damian's voice, terrified and worried that the man noticed that he was no longer alone, but this time it was worse.
"Y/N!"-The scream cut through the smoke.The older brother jerked his head up.
Across the chamber, Damian struggled against a man twice his size. The attacker had one arm locked around the boy's chest and a knife pressed against his throat.
"Damian!"-The man tightened his grip. Through the comms, the exchange of words causes a shiver to run down Bruce's body.
"Drop the weapon,"-he shouted.- "Or he dies."- Y/N pulse thundered in his ears.
He tried to move, but the collapsed debris still pinned his arm beneath several tons of twisted metal. The attacker laughed.
"Looks like you're out of options."
Damian's frightened eyes found Y/N. Not angry. Not pleading. Just scared, not for himself but for his older brother. That was worse.
Y/N pulled against the wreckage until pain shot through his shoulder. The metal didn't budge. The man began dragging Damian toward the exit.
"Say goodbye."- Y/N stomach dropped.
There was no rescue coming. No backup. No miracle.
Just a choice.
“Careful Dami, I still need my arms.”- Y/N said with a small smile.- “I think I would die of sadness if I had to give up on my swords due to an injury. Y'know right, Dami?!”
The world narrowed to Damian's terrified face. Y/N gritted his teeth.
"Hang on,"- He whispered, more to himself than to the youngest.
Then he did the only thing left to save his brother. The movement was smooth, body in command rather than the brain, one of his katanas cut his arm in a single and clean movement, a cascade of blood gushing from his amputated member. He didn't have time for pain and much less to care about saving his stuck arm, the only thing filling his mind being the worried green eyes of his younger brother.
Time was running out, he had only a few minutes to save his brother before the loss of blood left him without any strength. And that's what he did, running as fast as his already weakened legs could handle. The katana in his right hand pointing at the henchman holding Damian, the same man answering back, the long blade of his dagger colliding with the katana. The rest of the fight was a blur, his movements growing more and more sloppy each second.
“Father! Father, please.”- Damian pleaded in the comms, his voice shaking with hurt.
“I'm arriving”- Bruce said, but unfortunately everything has already come to an end.
The fight was over.
The man lay motionless several feet away. Damian barely noticed, he was too busy staring at Y/N
"No."- The word came out as a whisper.
Y/N fell on his knees, pale and trembling. The torn piece of his gear around his shoulder was soaked through, falling onto his chest as well as the ground.
"No, no, no..."- Bruce felt his heart stop listening to his youngest son.
Damian dropped beside him.
"We need to go. Come on."
He hooked an arm under Y/N's good shoulder and tried to pull him up, and the oldest winced.
"Damian."
"We have to leave."
"Damian."-His voice was softer this time, contrasting with Robin's one.
The kind of voice people used when they already knew the outcome. The realization hit Damian like a punch.
"No."- Y/N smiled faintly.
"There you are."
"What?"
"You've been saying that word a lot."- Damian shook his head.
For the first time since the youngest came to Gotham, he didn't care if the family saw him cry.
"Don't do this."- A silence stretched between them.
Then Y/N reached up and rested a shaky hand against Damian's cheek. The gesture was so familiar it hurt. It was what he always did when he could sense Damian feeling out. After bad days. After every scraped knee and wound in patrol.
Everything 's okay.
Except this time it wasn't.
"You know what I'm proud of?" Y/N asked. Damian couldn't answer.- "You kept going."- A tear slid down Y/N's face.- "You were always stronger than you thought."
Damian grabbed the hand in his cheek, his own hands shaking. Barely keeping himself together.
"No. I'm not. I can't…"
"Yes, you can."- His voice was barely audible now.- "You'll have to."
The room felt impossibly quiet, Y/N eyes drifted toward the ceiling, then back to Damian.
"Hey."- Damian squeezed his hand tighter.- "Grow up healthy, will you?!."- A small smile appeared.
"Yes."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Y/N breathing slowed, his hand relaxed in Damian’s grip. And then nothing.
Damian waited, surely there would be another breath. Another word. Another smile. But the silence remained.
Slowly, Damian pressed his forehead against his brother's hand.
And for the first time after a while, he felt completely alone.
Y/N was dead. Damian knew that. The others knew that.
Yet he still found himself looking over his shoulder every few minutes, expecting to hear familiar footsteps. Days passed. Whenever someone mentioned Y/N, Damian left the room.
Whenever someone offered condolences, he nodded once and changed the subject.
They called him strong. They were wrong, strong people accepted reality. Every morning, Damian woke up expecting his brother to be alive.
The worst part wasn't the memory of Y/N death, it was the memory of his last words. Until the end, he still looked out for Damian.
Every night he wondered if that had been a mistake, if he had stayed at the manor, maybe Y/N wouldn't have died.
Maybe he could still have his brother. Maybe.
“He is dead.”- Damian said to his mother, yet his eyes didn't reach hers, instead he stared at the ground. The waterline is dry, he hasn't cried since.
“He is.”- She said simply.
“Because of me.”
“Not because of you, but for you.”- Her words caused a turmoil on Damian's chest.
For him.
"I would have died for him too. The difference is that he got the chance."
“I know, beloved. And he knew it too, that’s why he did it.”
One evening, while unpacking his painting supplies, Bruce entered his room. In his arms, two katanas. Y/N katanas. The same scratches on the handle. The same worn leather cord.
He froze in place, and for several seconds he stared at it.
Then Bruce carefully placed it in Damian's bed, sitting beside it and hugging Damian's side, carefully rubbing the boys back. Comforting him.
“Why don't you resent me?”- His voice trembled at his father's demeanour.
He basically killed his son and yet, not only Bruce but the whole house didn't hold him accountable for it.
“Why would I hate someone he loved so dearly?”- Bruce's voice came calm, but the only thing he could remember was the hollering cry at the sight of his oldest dead body. Noticing his son thoughts wandering, he added.- “You are my son just like Y/N is, Damian. Take you time to forgive yourself, nobody in this house blames you for what happened. Ease your mind, son.”
Giving the youngest a last hug and a small kiss on the forehead, Bruce walked outside.
And finally, for the first time since Y/N died, Damian cried. The pain in his chest pressing his heart further in his ribs. He wouldn't cry anymore, not because the grief didn't hurt anymore, but because he promised to stay healthy. And he will do it. Do it for you.
