Something itched at the back of Damian’s brain. Was he forgetting something? No, that couldn’t be. He was Damian al Ghul, sole heir to the Demon’s Head. His memory was perfect.
Yet something still felt off as he pushed his body through the steps of a kata.
“Hey Damian,” Dick called out as he entered the training area. “How was your trip?”
He paused his movements momentarily, holding his stance while he spoke. “It was… uneventful.”
“What were you doing, anyway?”
“I…” he paused again. Frowned, kata forgotten. “It doesn’t matter.” The itching at the back of his head grew. “It wasn’t anything important.”
“Okay, but then why did you have to go so suddenly?”
“Because… because… I don’t know.” Irritation prickled at his mind. “Does it really matter?”
“Yes!” Dick yelled, throwing his hands up. “Of course it matters why you ran off suddenly without telling us. Where did you even go?”
“It. Doesn’t. Matter,” he grit out.
“Just tell me something.” Dick was nearly pleading now.
“It wasn’t anything important. I’ve already forgotten the details.”
“Wh- what? Wait—” Dick’s eyes widened in realization. “Name one thing you did. Place you went. Anything.”
“I…” The itching grow even stronger. “I…”
“You can’t remember, can you?” Dick whispered in shock.
“Of course I can! My memory is perfect! It’s just…” he trailed off. Couldn’t say anything.
Dick grabbed his arm. “That’s it, I’m taking you to get your head checked. Clearly something is affecting your memories”
“Yep, there’s definitely something there,” Zatanna commented, squinting at something Damian couldn’t see. Bruce had called her in after the whole barrage of normal tests failed to yield any results. “Can’t quite tell what, though. It’s…” she waved her hand for a moment, thinking, “…messy, for lack of a better word. Whoever did it, they weren’t experienced in using their magic this way.”
“Can you break it?” Bruce asked.
“Yeah, I think so.” She glanced at Damian, “I’d recommend you sit down for this, though.”
After he did so, she took a deep breath and reached her hands besides his head.
“ESAELER SIH DEKCOL SEIROMEM!”
A wave of exhaustion visibly rushed through her, but Damian barely noticed through the flood of returning memories. Far more than he expected, not just from his recent trip but all the way back through his childhood with the League of Assassins.
“My sons, the two of you are destined to do great things. It is in your blood.”
Eating together. Studying together. Sparring together. They had been two halves of a whole, always together—
“The match goes to Damian.”
“Danyal, you have fallen behind your brother once again. I am disappointed in you. Remember that the League does not tolerate failure.”
Until they separated entirely.
“Damian, you have a new assignment. Your brother has been sent on a long-term infiltration mission following a potential lead, and it will be your duty to monitor his reports.”
He hadn’t even gotten a chance to say goodbye.
And then they met again, only for the situation to turn out exactly the same way. Two brothers once more at each other’s throats.
Except this time, Danyal was the one to win.
Damian felt tears staining his cheeks, and a single word fell from his lips. “Ahki…”
Why had his brother spared him? Was it purely practical, since his disappearance would be noticed? Or was it, he hoped, that some part of Danyal was still unwilling to kill him despite it all?
And what, now, does he do with this knowledge? Danyal clearly doesn’t want to see him, but the others weren’t going to just let this go.
Especially not with the way Bruce had reacted to hearing Damian’s words.
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