Diabolical | T. Drake ✔

[44] Crazy Medic

Damian was practically fuming in anger.

He couldn't believe that the lanky and malnourished foster son of his biological father had the nerve to not only insult him but also inject him with what he assumed was poison. He couldn't fathom why his father had decided to take in such a nuisance.

He could have easily crushed his neck with his bare hands if not for that unknown sedative he got injected with. The next thing he knew, he woke up in an unfamiliar bed at the first ray of dawn, tucked in like a child.

So it was safe to say that Damian was not having a good day. He couldn't wait to get his hands on Timothy and make him pay for his stunt.

But then he would have to make sure that the boy didn't have any more injections at his disposal as he certainly did not want to be put to sleep again.

He had been searching for him but apparently Tim had left the manor early that morning and Damian wasn't allowed to go out in the city to track him. Therefore he ended up taking out all his anger on the garden, slicing up the shrubbery with his katana.

Bruce and Richard hadn't dared to approach him while Alfred too decided to leave him to his own devices for the time being. It wasn't until Jason came to the Manor that someone finally talked to the hotheaded boy.

"What did the shrubbery do?" Jason asked as he stopped at a safe distance from the boy who seemed to have impressive stamina as he was still not exhausted chopping all the plants to pieces.

"Exist," he fumed.

Jay held the urge to laugh, "woah, someone's in a mood."

The boy looked up with a murderous glare, "and who the hell are you?"

"Bruce's worst nightmare," he replied with a slight smirk, "although I feel like my title will be passed onto someone else real soon."

Those emerald eyes narrowed into slits as he observed Jason, trying to recall why he felt familiar. "I have seen you somewhere before."

He shrugged, "you could have. I served in the League for a few years."

Damian looked surprised to learn that. He briefly recalled seeing Jason at the base alongside other assassins in his grandfather's fleet. If he was part of that fleet, that meant he was one of the best assassins in the League as Ra's chose his soldiers very carefully.

"You didn't answer my question," Jason remarked, shaking him out of his thoughts but then seeing that he was in no mood to talk he changed the topic, "but if you really want someone to practice sword fighting with, I am available. You don't have to butcher up the garden."

"I don't need practice," he huffed, "I can easily defeat you."

"Good, I hope it's a challenge."

Damian paused but then accepted it, "whatever. Prepare to face defeat."

"Not here," he replied, starting to go to the manor, "we have a much better combative ground in the cave. I need to pick my sword too."

Damian considered whether he should follow him or not but then sheathed his sword and walked in as well. Richard had watched that interaction in surprise and when he saw Jay, he raised an eyebrow as if silently asking him what kind of magic word he used to stop Damian from being destructive.

He only winked in reply, feeling smug that at least there were a few tricks even their eldest brother didn't know. One of those tricks was handling entitled little brats like Damian.

Jason was a pro at dealing with rebellious young boys and there was nothing they could do to faze him. He had seen it all and knew exactly how to counter their antics.