SWAN SONG / damian wayne

TWENTY-FIVE, CRASHING DOWN

THE RIDE BACK to their penthouses was quiet. Bruce frowned, glancing at them from time to time, but seemed to decide against voicing his concerns. Damian's eyes were shut, but she knew he wasn't asleep. She, on the other hand, leaned back and enjoyed the view.

She'd gotten a lot done that night. She was happy about it.

She'd deal with Damian eventually. Tonight, she just wanted to celebrate. She just wanted to relax, take a nice long bath, put on a face mask, put on a movie and then head to bed.

And then tomorrow she'd wake up and reach out to the people she'd met tonight. Strengthen those connections, those newfound friendships. Made sure people were aware she hadn't just taken their promises of assistance as common courtesy.

She intended to make sure they delivered. And she'd make sure they saw the advantages of it—for both this city, and also for themselves.

What else was on the to-do list? Cassandra was leaving in a couple days. She'd have to hang out with her at least once before that. The flight was quite late at night, so she probably wasn't going to send off Cass at the airport. When was her next scheduled patrol night? Bruce had placed her onto the schedule, finally. Two days. In two nights. That was fine.

Enough time for her to recharge, get ready. It was probably with Jason again.

She kept getting paired up with the Red Hood. She wasn't sure if it was a purposeful choice or not. Perhaps they thought her a calming influence on him? But he seemed fairly... in control these days. He wasn't doing anything out of line, really.

It might also be because Damian was injured, so they couldn't put her with him. With Cassandra heading off soon, it didn't make sense to keep sending her out on patrol either. Jason was an odd one out. As was Odile, currently. An excellent match, in the minds of some.

Alfred cleared his throat as he stopped the car before the building's grand doors. "Master Wayne, Miss Odile, we have arrived."

"Thank you, Alfred." She was helped out of the car, casting a quick glance at Damian to make sure he was managing. He was. With another nod of gratitude and a wave at Bruce, she headed in.

She didn't turn to make sure Damian followed. He would, anyway.

The elevator ride was just as silent.

But finally, as they stepped out, he spoke. "Can we talk?"

Odile turned to him. "Are we not talking now, Damian?"

He flexed his jaw. "I'd like to apologise. I didn't mean to come off as overbearing."

"Apology accepted." She gave the slightest of nods. "Don't worry about it."

Really, he hadn't even done anything wrong. He'd just spoken the truth.

Not even family.

It stung, though. But she couldn't tell him that.

"It doesn't look like it," he replied, raising a brow. "You're angry at me. Why? Was it something I said? Because I don't think what I said warranted that big of a response, which means it's something else. What I said earlier tonight was just what broke the camel's back."

Sometimes, she wished he wasn't so perceptive. It made it very difficult to lie to him, though if she thought about it, she'd been doing it for years.

"Damian, I'm not angry. I'm just tired." That seemed to be the best way forward. She let out a soft sigh. "I've been in heels for hours, dancing in them, and my feet hurt. And I'm thirsty."