Angst Damian Wayne One Shots

Drowning

Third Person

Damian Wayne stood on the edge of the rooftop, his eyes fixed on the sprawling cityscape of Gotham. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a golden hue over the buildings and streets below. To anyone else, it might have seemed beautiful, a perfect end to another day in the city. But for Damian, it felt like a cruel joke, a reminder of the warmth he could no longer feel. The world was alive around him, but he felt like a ghost, an empty shell drifting through the shadows.

He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his leather jacket, feeling the weight of his emotions like a heavy anchor pulling him down. Inside, he was drowning, suffocated by an ocean of despair that surged higher with each passing day. No matter how hard he fought to swim to the surface, the waves kept crashing over him, dragging him deeper into the darkness.

Damian had always been the fierce one, the one who fought to prove himself worthy of the Wayne legacy. As the son of Batman, he had been trained to be strong, to be invincible. He had faced countless enemies and survived the most grueling training sessions. But lately, the battles felt meaningless, and the weight of expectations had become a heavy burden.

His brothers —Tim, Jason, and Dick—were busy with their own lives, laughing and making plans for the future. They seemed to float effortlessly above the waters, while he struggled to stay afloat. Each day passed, and he wore a mask, pretending to be the confident and skilled Robin everyone expected him to be. But inside, he felt small and fragile, his heart weighed down by unrelenting sadness.

He remembered the last time he had tried to reach out for help. It was during a training session with Dick, who had sensed something was off. "You okay, Damian?" Dick had asked, his voice laced with concern. But Damian, caught in the throes of his own turmoil, had shrugged it off, hiding the truth behind a forced smile. "Just tired, like always."

But the truth was far more complex. He was drowning in a sea of loneliness, battling demons that seemed insurmountable. Each argument with his father and every harsh word exchanged with his friends echoed in his mind like an unending loop, reminding him of how isolated he truly felt. No one could see how hard he was struggling, how close he was to losing himself completely.

As the sun sank below the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of purple and pink, he leaned against the cool metal of the rooftop railing, staring down at the bustling streets below. Cars zoomed by, and pedestrians moved about their business, oblivious to the turmoil that raged within him. The city felt alive, but he felt like an outsider, watching from a distance. Would anyone notice if he simply vanished?

The thought sent a chill down his spine. He didn't want to disappear; he wanted to be seen, to be understood. But the crushing weight of his loneliness made him wonder if anyone would truly miss him. Would his friends care? Would they remember the times they had shared, or would they simply move on, laughing and living their lives without a second thought?

As he stood there, lost in his thoughts, he heard a voice behind him. "Damian, there you are!" It was Tim, looking slightly out of breath, his face flushed from running. "We've been looking for you everywhere. Are you okay?"

For a brief moment, hope flickered inside him, like a small candle fighting against the darkness. Maybe someone did notice. But as he turned to face Tim, that hope quickly faded. He saw the concern in Tim's eyes, but it was mixed with a hint of impatience. "We need to get back to the cave. Alfred is worried."

Damian felt the wave of despair crash over him again, drowning out the flicker of hope. "Yeah, I'm fine," he lied, forcing a smile that felt like a mask slipping on over his face. "Let's go."