[TOO FAR GONE] - DAMIAN WAYNE - DC COMICS

too late.

"I see you've stopped sneaking through windows." A voice calls out, and I turn back, shocked to hear him. I drop both bags, slamming the door as I reenter.

"Apparently you haven't." I rebuttal, not even turning on the light.

"Actually, the door was unlocked." He spits out, and I can hear him rise from the couch as the leather crinkles.

"But I guess that's what you'd expect when the owner's too drunk to be cautious." He mocks, and if I had a better idea of where he was, I'd charge.

"Don't talk about Jay like that." I yell, pissed that he had the nerve to come over like this.

"About Jay? So what, now you guys have worked things out or something?" He questions, making my blood fiery.

"Excuse me?" I harshly whisper, somewhat under my breath.

"Well considering he only lets people he likes call him things other than his real name, I guess that mean-" I start laughing.

"Is that why you're only allowed to call him Jason? You know what? I don't know what made you think it was acceptable for you to be here, but guess what? It's not. So you can fucking leave." My words were blunt, but I didn't have the time to small talk with him.

"I'm here because I'm concerned." He breaths out, and though I can only see a rough outline of his body, I know he's giving me one of those looks.

"Well ya shouldn't be. I'm not your problem." I mutter, crossing my arms.

"Actually Damian you are. You're my kid." He objects, and I was about ready to tackle him.

"I don't give a fuck that you're older than me gramps, but don't you ever call me a kid. I'm more man than half the freaks that reside here in Gotham, and that includes you." It seemed pointless to turn on the lights considering the two of us were so comfortable in this setting, however I guess he felt the need to see my face. Which was red with anger. A bright glow cloaks the room, and he pulls the same shit he does every time.

"You can think you're as grown up as you want... Hell you can even be as grown up as you want, but understand this; no matter what age, you're still my son." He stands up a bit taller, confident in his adequate response.

"Really?" I banter.

"I'm pretty sure a few glasses of spiked alcohol doesn't make me your son... And better yet, a few signed papers don't mean shit considering I can sign a few more to abolish the terms that were scribbled across the first. So, take your pathetic attempts and get the fuck out of here!" I yell again, watching his facial expression morph into something I hadn't seen before.

"Maybe you should join me. You're living in a convict's home Damian, wake up!" He argues, his tone just as jurassic as mine.

"Don't act like it was the same when I was living with you... I'm not a prisoner here. I'm an equal. Something you wouldn't understand." He shakes his head at me.

"Is that why you just went around cleaning up after him? Because you're both equal? You can rid of the evidence Damian, but you sure as hell won't rid of his addictions." He made it sound as if he had once tried.

"You act like you know that because you yourself tried to fix it. But what happened? You failed. You fucking failed real bad Bruce. At least I didn't give up on him." I say, and for a second I felt bad, considering I kind of had. But I was no Bruce Wayne, and I knew for a fact that something that I was going to do, would prove that I hadn't lost hope in Jason.

"You know that's not true." His tone was sharp, eye's opened wide, and his finger was pointing right through my soul.

"Is that why you didn't search for him? Why you mourned for maybe a week or two to then find a replacement?" He was taken back by my comment and I knew I was treading waters that might have been too hazardous for my liking. But I wasn't going to stop and let myself drown.

"He dies, and it's the end of the world for a day. I die, and it's the end of the world until I'm actually found... Explain to me how this works. You alienated a plethora of people, for the sake of my life, and the most you did for him was toss a few hundred bucks at some priest to say the final words. He finds a way to come back on his own, you know, cause there was no help at all, and what does he get then? A door slammed in his face. He's doing wrong now. He's a killer, and too attached to his shotguns... Right? That's why you shut him out when he came back? Well what about when I was dropped on your doorstep? I wasn't exactly what you had in mind. So why on earth would waste your time with me, when experiment number two didn't go so well? It's cause you thought it'd be easier to start over than it would be to try and fix all you would broke. You gave up on him Bruce! Plain and simple."

He just stood there, taking my words like bullets through his chest. I could see the pain in his eyes, and I knew for a fact all I just said meant something to him. But like all Wayne's I suppose, he chose to ignore it.

"You think you have the right to speak to me this way? I'm your father Damian, not your punching bag, who you can just throw meaningless threats at." He refutes, and I somehow manage to smile.

"If they are so meaningless then why do you question if I'm eligible to say these things to you. And you know what? You can say you're my father all you want, and go on about how I'm your son... But understand that I did not choose you, as my father. Jason and I may have had rough times, but I'm choosing to be his brother... Choosing to be his friend, and I, unlike you, am going to help him. I guess it's not in the genes." He just chuckled as if what I said wasn't true.

"I've helped Jason many times Damian, and what exactly do you think you can do to help him? He's in too deep this time. No one can save him." He responds, again with that attitude that spells out I've given up.

"You're right Bruce it is too late... You could of easily paid his bail hours ago, but instead you see fit to break into our home and try and put me in my place? I may not have been the best brother to Jay these past few years, but understand me when I say it doesn't compare to the shit show you've provided as his legal guardian. There's no way in hell I'd ever label him as your son because you under no circumstances deserve to father him." I turned around my eyes piercing through his.

"Don't overstay your welcome." I say strictly, glaring at him.

"And where exactly do you think you're going?" He jokes, as if he had the authority to know. And he didn't, but I figured I'd share. I picked up my things, opening the door as I finally told him.

"I'm going, to fix my wrongs. Something you should probably learn to do."