[TOO FAR GONE] - DAMIAN WAYNE - DC COMICS

true nature.

He had been gone for a while now. And maybe that's why the family dynamic fell apart. No more efforts to keep us all together. No more annoying hugs to display brotherly affection. No more forced family outings on the rooftops of Gotham, laughing and winning as a team all together. Just no more us. No more we. All because there was no more Grayson. Period.

It was abrupt, the day he left. I'm pretty sure no one saw it coming. But he was stuck, and we sure as hell weren't making it any easier back at the manor. His words formed sentences, sentences that were structured by hate, anger and the obvious problem of being fed up. There was too much on his mind, and I knew this, however it never dawned on me that things were that bad. I never understood completely till I found the letter. An explanation of sorts... No, more of a rant. He tried to keep it in for the longest time. But that letter let it all out.

A signature on his suicide, as if it condoned him in doing so. A record on his life, as if it were an artifact waiting to be discovered. A problem in my mind, as if these stupid paragraphs of grief were suddenly a moralistic guide to my daily life. But they weren't. And it wasn't. No one could know about the letter. No one could know about his attempts... About his thoughts. No one could know, plain and simple. So that crumpled old letter rest in the bottom of my draw, mocking me each time I go to sharpen one of the knives that rest inside, because damn I had it all wrong.

To clarify, just because I don't necessarily think it's clear, my brother didn't kill himself. I won't deny that he had the thoughts, hell we just talked about the letter he had pre-written, but just know that's not the reason he's gone. It was a year ago... The day he left us. The day he left me. He claimed he had things to take care of, things he needed to clear up. And though the world's best detective Bruce couldn't piece two and two together, I had it figured all out. Gullible Grayson left in search for his dead friend. And long story short, we have yet to hear back from him... Though part of me knew we never would... Still won't... Never will...

Despite losing my oldest brother to lord knows what, I had any and every single explanation I needed. I had his story memorized in my mind... That letter, the one that mocked me, it was resting along the smooth surface of my mind, creating a bumpy inconsistency as something hadn't fit right. I knew how Bruce felt about it. But having lost my brother, it meant something more. It was hard to fight against my instinct. Oh so incredibly difficult to drop my killer ways. And with my father, I truthfully never cared. But with Grayson, with this letter, I had to force myself to stop. Which is why I did. And so for months I followed my pact. There was no need to break it. My father was proud. I was proud. And I knew for a fact wherever he was, Grayson was proud too. Despite how hard it was, things were getting easier, and though the thought of changing myself was stupid, I knew it was better in the long run.

It had been going pretty well for months. I mostly patrolled alone, a lack of people due to their situations... As I've already shared Grayson was- well I'm still not even sure where in particular... But Jason, he'd been gone as well. Missing in action, out and about firing off his guns. A weak way to kill. I always loved Jason, sort of, I guess... Ugh I hate admitting this... It's just, there's something about him... Maybe it was the fact that we were both members of the dead robin club... Or that we both hated Drake immensely... Perhaps his 'I don't give a shit' attitude being similar to that of mine... So yeah, I love him...

But I never understood why he was so attached to his shotguns. I'll say it again, a weak way to kill. But he was busy doing his own thing, and though he offered when he left a year ago, I wasn't going to be visiting anytime soon. I wasn't that desperate. I knew he needed his own time. He liked to drift, liked to keep that absent type presence. Here, the only thing left of him were a few bullets in the wall, and a constant word from Bruce about how he'd get him eventually. But didn't we all know that was a lie. Like an actual parent trying their best not to give their spoiled kid something else they wanted, they just let it slide... Oops...

As for my father, he didn't need to patrol with me anymore. He now trusted me, and it was a colossal weight lifted off my shoulders. It's funny, considering he thought I was following his rules for him. Jokes. Funny jokes... Had it not been for Grayson's last words, even unbeknownst to him, I would likely be in jail for offing people's heads. Cause that was a strong way to kill. Not weak like Jason and his play toys. So most of the time it was just me. And I'm being honest when I say I don't like it. I love it. However, tonight was my night off, and lucky me I didn't have to fly around sporting some costume. Tonight I could just be Damian Wayne. And in my black hoodie and old beat up sneakers that's who I was. I followed the shadows alone. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop I was overwhelmed yet underwhelmed by the view, by the thrill of each leap. It was so natural, yet so exhilarating, there wasn't a word to describe it.

It was late. It was dark. It was crude. It was just the way I liked it. And I knew I shouldn't be out now. I knew I'd face the consequences when I returned, but I didn't care. And not for my normal arrogant reasons. I was still a pain in the ass, this I knew. But reality was real, and I was beginning to understand what he meant when he said if you don't live for something, you'll die for nothing. And I wasn't about to let that happen. I guess a journey of self discovery is the best description I could give. But I was so animate about finding myself, I somehow managed to lose fragments I had already discovered. And it took me way too long to figure that out.

I returned back to the manor, staring down the clock as I had come to realize this was the latest I'd ever stayed out. I didn't want to go into the cave where it was quote unquote safe... It was dry down there, reminded me of the hell I once called home. So I entered through a window, carefully using my ex-assiassian skills to slip into the shadows and make myself invisible. I tip-toed across the headboard of a bed, my hood falling over my lurking eyes, as it soon consumed me. I knew where I was, and I knew how much I had been gambling, but I just couldn't help it! I loved a good challenge. So I quietly ran through the room, doing a great job as going unnoticed until I heard some ruffling noises from the bed. I almost wanted to smile. Part of me enjoyed these petty fights we shared. Such enthusiastic father son bonding. But shit was I wrong...

The first one came on strong, however the second one really hit me. I had been shot before yes, but never in my life had it been this abrupt, this unbelievable. I could make out his words though somewhat hazy as I was starting to lose my grip.

"Get out of my house you son of a bitch!" Well that was ironic.

"I won't have to call the cops on you with the events I've got planned." It was a threat, and for a brief moment it came to me as hard as that second bullet.

He thought I was a robber. And though it was evident by the things he was still screaming at me, I didn't understand why he pulled out a gun... Couldn't comprehend what he meant when he said he had 'events' planned.

This was wrong.

Did my father just expose his true nature?

-----authors-note-----

guess who's back?  back again?

that's right, i actually got around to whipping something up for y'all... 

hope you enjoy!

vote and comment <3