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Damian // Monday
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"Something is off tonight," Batman says, propped on the edge of the tallest building in Gotham. His cape billows menacing behind him. The layers of leather vinyl are scalloped at the ends. They flicker like somber swells because of the sliver of moon.
Robin inwardly winces but stays perfectly still. His hand moves to his mask and he zooms into the hidden Nkechinyere who's clicking photos with rapid fingers. Her chipped nail polish and clay rings draw his eye to where she's adjusting the reflector.
"It's too quiet," Robin replies, using the default statement as a safety blanket. He should've never agreed to this. Having a pedestrian anywhere near them was risky for both parties. Nkechinyere could get caught in the crossfire and they could get distracted from their mission. But he had no other choice (Or at least that's what he reasoned with himself).
Batman's non-pupiled mask side eyes him suspiciously. Damian's a bit worried he'll know he's lying but Bruce just nods and turns back towards the city. "It's never quiet in Gotham."
Good, he thinks, his cunning and vicious ways from being trained as an assassin have remained. Who is Damian Al'Ghul without dried blood under his nails and a casually cruel smile? No, he shakes his head, he's not Damian Al'Ghul anymore, he's Damian Wayne. Damian Wayne is good, he's pressed suits and saving pregnant women. Using violence only as necessary. He doesn't get enjoyment from it. He doesn't.
He swears.
A bright light in the sky saves Robin from his inner turmoil. Yellow with a bat-shaped outline. Below them, a woman screams. Damian snaps his neck to the sound and sees the usual drunken fool robbing a night-shift nurse.
The alleyway is narrow and illuminated only by one flickering streetlamp. Shadows dance across the walls as the woman walks briskly. She clutches her purse and glances nervously over her shoulder at the approaching danger. A bumbling fool walks zig-zag towards her with a pocket knife.
With a silent understanding between them, Batman heads towards the signal to find Gordon and Damian glides down the building to help the woman. This time, however, he makes sure he's slow enough that Nkechinyere'a photos won't come out blurry.
He lands in front of the man with silent steps. He doesn't make a quip, doesn't give a one-liner like his brothers are known for. He was trained in silence. He was brought up to not make a noise. Any sound, any response, any acknowledgment had to be earned. This man hadn't earned shit. Except perhaps a jail sentence.
A sudden flash of steel breaks the silence as the man lunges, his knife glinting like a venomous fang. Damian's reflexes are lightning-fast as he evades the attack with precision, his body twisting ivy around a cobblestone grave. Robin brought his arm down and struck him with calculated accuracy.
Blow after blow land with considerable force. He gas to control how far he takes it. A symphony of violence unfold in that narrow alley, the rhythmic clash of metal harmonizing with grunts and groans. One final uppercut sends him stumbling against the wall and the night-shift nurse knocks him out with a wack from a nearby piece of plywood.
"Thank you." She says as he puts handcuffs on him and chains the man to a water pipe.
That's something he still hasn't gotten used to. The gratitude and glorification. After his fist makes contact people breathe a sigh of relief. They used to breathe their final breath.
He nods and waits for her to get to the other side of the road where the light is brighter and the street is wider.
Robin looks up and sighs. He grapples to the building he knows Nkechinyere is set up on and sees her packing up with a grin.
"That was awesome! You may be a tool but the way you saved that woman! Holy shit I thought that dude's brain was gonna shoot out of his nose with that one punch. Insanity. Even if I don't get this internship - which I totally will - I can sell this to the papers for like a billion dollars!"
Damian watches as she rambles on and feels something like pride burn in his chest. His heart feels heavy with her shiny eyes and toothy smile. He must be sick or something.
"Are you satisfied with the photos you got?" He asks. She's about to answer when a yawn slips through her chapped lips and her eyes sluggishly blink. "Good. I've got important things to do that don't include you. We'll head back."
"I didn't even answer-" She protests. But Damian just slips an arm tensly around her waist and listens to her shout as they soar through the Gotham City night.
