The Things That Bind Us- Damirae

Chapter Six

Nightwing looked at Batman and knew exactly what he was thinking.

"You're sure about this Bruce?" He asked, concerned.

Between fastening the pouches of his utility belt and checking their units, Batman said, "He's my son. He's missing-"

"He left." Dick stopped him short. "Damian walked out to God knows where freely- and to do God knows what!"

The man placed a hand on Batman's shoulder and the Dark Knight paused, looking up. Dick had a wisdom about him, he knew. But in that moment, Batman didn't know if he cared to listen.

"Look, Damian's an adult and he knows what he's doing. How do you think he's going to feel when old bat-dad comes swanning in to his business, dragging him home before curfew?" Dick sighed. "This isn't the first time Damian has gone off on his own for a few days-"

"-two weeks-"

"-and we all remember how badly the last times went down..."

With a pop of bubblegum, Stephanie reminded them of her presence. She nodded along to Nightwing's words. Batman stared accusatorially at her, and, backed in to a corner, the Spoiler held up her hands, "Hey, he isn't a kid anymore. I say give him a week, and if he doesn't at least DM someone that he's alive, we go all-guns-blazing for him."

Nightwing tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, as if to say 'that's fair'.

With any other context, maybe. Maybe Bruce would have stayed home, tried to track his son down from there. But he had demons on his mind. Looking at Dick, he could see that the man wasn't going to let him follow Damian's trace. The bond between them was something Bruce knew he couldn't trespass on.

But if he couldn't seek Damian out, perhaps there was someone who could...

Zatanna Zatara was a phone call away. And then his son would be only a spell away.
***

A few days prior, Raven had been plagued, in her nights, by sordid tricks curtesy of her dear brother, Jacob.

She retained barely a wisp of their content upon waking, and huffed her frustration at not being able to piece the remaining feelings in to a full picture. All the empath had was a profound, confusing longing (she felt much more inclined to indulge it than be embarrassed) and the idea of it having to do with that man- the Robin...the Al Ghul.

Over a pot of coffee, one particularly groggy morning in Gotham, Raven resolved that it mightn't have been fair to stake all the blame on Jacob. For all she knew, that devilish Klarion could have sent them her way in jest, or fate of some kind. Then again, Raven snorted, it could've been her subconscious setting up its own theatre in her dreams.

Raven did her best to push thoughts of him away throughout the day. She ambled through her work, sorting through the magical transactions of her uncle Lucifer: checking and double-checking the fine-print. Magical legal business was no light matter, but it passed tiresomely. That it's, until a gentle tapping on the door sounded.

Zatanna was out so Raven opened it, pausing first to rub her eyes and stretch her arms.

At the sight of her visitor, Raven perked up instantly, "Klarion! That quickly?"

The Witch Boy leant on the doorframe and grinned, "Sweetheart you won't believe what I've found."

Raven practically dragged him inside, closing the door behind her with a flick of a finger. She beelined for the kettle, plonking Klarion on a chair at the small kitchen table.