Baby Damian one-shots

The League's littlest Wayne

It was a rare day when the Justice League gathered for a strategy session in person at the Watchtower. Bruce had reluctantly brought Damian along—partially because Alfred had insisted he not miss out on "valuable bonding time," and partially because Damian outright refused to stay at Wayne Manor after finding out where Bruce was going.

"Papa, you can't leave me with Pennyworth again. He makes me eat carrots," Damian had argued that morning, his tiny arms crossed.

So now, Bruce stood in the meeting room, arms folded as Superman addressed the group about an intergalactic threat, with Damian sitting quietly (well, mostly quietly) in a chair beside him.

The boy clutched Batty, his well-loved Batman plush, and kicked his legs idly. Every few moments, he'd tug on Bruce's cape or whisper, "Papa, when are we going home?"

Eventually, Wonder Woman, seated across the table, leaned forward with a warm smile. "Bruce, is this your son?"

The room went silent.

Bruce cleared his throat, his usual stoicism barely intact. "Yes. This is Damian."

"Finally!" The Flash said, zipping over to Damian in the blink of an eye. "We've been waiting for the big reveal! Kid, you're like a mini-Batman!"

Damian blinked up at him, unimpressed. "I'm not 'mini.' I'm perfectly proportioned for my age."

Hal Jordan snorted. "Yep, definitely a Wayne."

Superman crouched down next to the boy, his kind smile putting Damian slightly at ease. "It's nice to meet you, Damian. I'm Clark."

"I know who you are," Damian said matter-of-factly. He pointed a tiny finger. "Superman. Kal-El of Krypton. Also known as the farm boy my papa tolerates."

Clark raised an eyebrow and turned to Bruce. "Farm boy?"

Bruce's lips twitched, but he said nothing.

Wonder Woman chuckled, standing and walking over. "You've raised quite the confident little one, Bruce."

Damian puffed out his chest. "I was born confident. My mama's Talia al Ghul, and my papa is Batman. I'm destined for greatness."

The room fell silent again, this time tinged with amusement.

"Is that so?" Diana said, crouching slightly to meet his gaze. "And what will you do with such greatness, young one?"

Damian tilted his head thoughtfully. "Protect Gotham. Maybe become the greatest detective in the world. But first," he said, holding up Batty, "I need to finish my snack. Papa said I couldn't bring crumbs into the meeting."

Arthur, sitting at the back, burst out laughing. "This kid is something else!"

Damian frowned at him. "I'm not 'something.' I'm Damian."

Bruce stepped in, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "That's enough, Dami."

Damian looked up at his father, his scowl quickly replaced by an innocent expression. "Yes, Papa."

The League exchanged knowing glances.

As the meeting continued, Damian remained quiet, observing each member like they were pieces in a chess game. At one point, he whispered to Bruce, "Why is the Lantern so annoying?"

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. "We'll talk about it later."

By the end of the session, Diana knelt beside Damian again, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Damian, would you like to visit Themyscira someday? You could meet other children with great destinies."

Damian hesitated, glancing at Bruce. "Will Papa come, too?"

"If he wishes," Diana said with a wink at Bruce.

Damian thought for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. But only if there are no carrots."

Bruce sighed, rubbing his temple. "You're impossible."

Damian grinned, hugging Batty. "I know, Papa."

As the League dispersed, Superman clapped Bruce on the back. "You've got your hands full, Bruce."

Bruce's eyes softened as he glanced at his son, who was now interrogating the Green Lantern about his ring.

"Yeah," he admitted quietly. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."