EUPHORIA

A Fathers promise(Final Part)

Damian opened the door to his apartment, the weight of years of grief and regret hanging on his shoulders. The quiet was shattered by the sight of Dick Grayson standing in the living room, cradling a small child in his arms.

“What are you doing here, Grayson?” Damian asked, his voice sharp but uncertain.

Dick stepped forward slowly, his expression calm yet heavy. The little girl in his arms shifted, lifting her head to look at Damian. Her bright eyes locked onto his, and for a moment, everything in Damian’s world stopped.

“Baba?” she said, her voice small and hesitant, filled with fragile hope.

The word hit him harder than any blow. His knees buckled, and he dropped to the floor. With trembling hands, he removed his mask and chest plate, leaving only his undershirt. His breath came in uneven gasps as he stared at her.

“Aribela,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

Dick set the girl down gently. She stood unsteadily for a moment before her little feet padded across the floor. “Baba!” she cried, running into his arms.

Damian caught her, pulling her close as he sank back onto the floor. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her as though she might disappear if he let go. Tears spilled down his face, soaking into her soft curls.

“Aribela, habibti,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Missed you too, Baba,” she said, her voice muffled as she buried her face in his chest.

Damian clung to her, his heart breaking and healing all at once. He glanced up at Dick, his voice trembling. “Thank you,” he said, the words barely audible.

Dick gave a small nod, his face softened with understanding. “She needed you, Damian. You both need each other.”

Without another word, Dick left, closing the door quietly behind him. Damian shifted, cradling Aribela against his chest as he moved to sit on the couch. Her tiny arms clung tightly around his neck, and he let out a shuddering breath, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Baba?” she asked softly, her voice breaking the silence.

“Yes, Aribela?”

She pulled back slightly to look up at him. Her wide eyes were filled with innocence and confusion. “Where’s Mama?”

The question shattered him. His grip on her tightened, and his throat constricted as he tried to speak. “Mama… Mama’s gone, Aribela. She can’t come back.”

Her little lip trembled, and tears welled in her eyes. “I want Mama,” she whispered, her voice breaking into a sob.

Damian’s heart broke further as he cradled her closer. “I know,” he whispered, his voice raw. “I want her too, habibti. I miss her every day.”

Her tears soaked into his shirt as she cried against his chest. “Don’t leave me, Baba,” she begged, her small hands clutching his shirt tightly.

“I won’t,” Damian said firmly, his voice steady despite the tears streaking his face. “I’ll always be here for you, Aribela. I’ll protect you. Always.”

She sniffled and curled against him, her tiny body fitting perfectly in his arms. He rocked her gently, whispering soothing words in Arabic as her sobs gradually quieted.

Eventually, her breathing slowed, and her small hands relaxed their grip. Damian looked down to see her asleep, her face peaceful despite the tears still drying on her cheeks.

Carefully, he leaned back on the couch, holding her securely in his arms. He stared at her, his mind racing with memories of Raven and the life they’d dreamed of.

“I’ll make you proud, Azizi,” he murmured, his voice soft. “For her. For you.”

As the night deepened, Damian stayed on the couch, his daughter sleeping soundly in his arms. Despite the pain, he felt a flicker of purpose—something worth fighting for.