Home is Not a Place

Chapter one: not a dansel

a/n: So i've decided to take a different route with this fic, not going to follow the plot of injustice gods among us and not going to follow the plot of Damian, son of batman. But i'm going to somewhat create my own type of plot in this story by using details that were in other comics, example: Batman incorporated, and example (Even though this was a movie, not a comic) the justice league vs teen titans, I would also like to point out that Damian is sixteen in this, and that he hasn't died yet. I'm corrupting the plot quite a bit, but trust me everything will make sense eventually. I plan on doing my own little thing and loosely basing all of this of what i'm writing off of some things i got inspired by for the comics. My trigger warnings still are valid, though.

Your body was sent flying backwards at a fast pace towards the hard brick wall behind you with an intense amount of force behind the drive pushing you towards it. Enough of it to make you yell out in pain and widen your eyes in shock right as your back hit the wall.It felt like every verdebre alongside on the inerds of your spine cracked upon the impact.

You clenched your jaw, wet locks of (h/c) hair falling in front of your face while you let your left hand trail to your stomach near an open wound on your gut to try and attempt to suppress the bleeding, apply pressure. The moment your body hit the wall, it slid down the wall and collapsed onto the heavy gravel ground. Sending a large thumping sound through the alley and a stinging pain throughout every nerve you had.

Pulling yourself up and sitting against the wall with a bent knee, you leaned over and coughed up a decent amount of blood into your open palms, cringing while you tried to breathe out normally. A fruitless task. You didn't have much time to regain yourself to fight back, because before you could even get a more clear and deep breath out, a heavy boot colliding with the open wound on your chest. You shout out in pain, again. Eyes widening as the pain shot through your body in multiple different ways, allowing a blood curdling scream to escape the prison of your lungs and past your lips.

Normally, you didn't get your ass kicked so badly. you normally don't get tossed around this much at all, even. but this was all your fault, since your mind was in other places. you're usually the one doing all the damage, not the other way around.

There's a reason you hate being in Gotham, the criminals here are far worse than any other place. Gotham can be considered home of the crazy, with a high crime rate that sometimes topples over detroit even. But it's not always this bad everywhere in Gotham, but sadly there isn't many good places compared to all the bad. You've been to many places with high crime rates, but none of them have lunatics as crazy as here. This is why you hate being in Gotham.

You've only come here a handful of times, you prefer to stay out and away as much as you can avoid doing so. The first time you ever even came here is when you were looking for information on a family member you had, you were pointed the direction of Central city, the place you ended up spending the most of your time in. Turns out that family of yours was infact in central city, but in their most populated cemetery.

Right now though? If you don't do anything about the street thug attacking you, you're going to end up in a damn cemetery.

"C'mon, what're are you, twelve?!" He laughed out while yelling to you, taunting you, mocking you. Bad choice. But your eyes still looked up to scan the red and white face paint he had that cracked and smudged with the dirt and grease and sweat he had over his features. The red painted grin over stubble was beginning to come off of his face in the rain, but by the paint on his face you came to the assumption he was under the Joker's payroll.

Sending another kick to your gut, the open wound now throbbing in pain and a stinging burn as he kicked his boot in even harder this time, shoving it into the wound as if he knew where to kick.Leaning against the wall didn't last long, as a harsh kick to your left side sent you collapsing onto the ground onto your side.