Fight or Flight? : A Damian Wayne Book

>Chapter 2<

Here's Ch 2 guys... Prepare for a little bit more of brotherly Grayson, as well as some angry Damian...

Slipping into his old assassin's attire, Damian looked into the mirror, remembering and admiring how the clothes still fit well, after months of not wearing them. He ran his fingers through his thick, dark black hair, making it wild, then picked up the katana he had put on the bed. Damian pointed the katana's point towards the mirror, and made an angered face that he knew he always had, when he was fighting. Then, he smirked, and walked calmly over to the huge bay window, katana in hand. He opened the window, and without a sound, slipped out into the sunset, being sure to use the training he used often as Robin, and when he was still living among the League of Shadows, to make sure he didn't get caught. 

In all honesty, Damian didn't want Bruce finding him. He was angry, and needed to let off some steam, by doing what he did best. Heading over to the nearest Christmas tree lot, the young Bird and assassin trained teen looked around. Then, when he saw no one in sight, he slipped into the area, and began, using his katana, to cut the small and the large trees down. He even took it upon himself to reduce the bright lights to merely shattered glass. Even though it was the very beginning of December, and was freezing cold, the ground wasn't covered in snow, making it much easier for Damian to know no one would suspect him of stooping so low, out of an angry argument he had had with Bruce. As he cut down the trees, two at a time, he conversed to himself, "Foolish Father. Does he dare think, that I, Damian al Ghul, will just subject myself to listen to him, and his obligatory rules and guidelines? One thing is for certain, he will not tell me what to do. I know my worth. I am Ra al Ghul's grandson, and I do not need to lower myself to fit Father's image of whom I shall be." Soon enough, Damian found himself in the lot, surrounded by sliced trees, loose branches, and broken glass. With an almost evil glint, he said, "I truly loathe the Christmas season. It is all too much for me."

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Meanwhile, back at the Manor, Bruce found himself on the phone, talking with the principal of Gotham Academy, and his personal friend, Mr. Petters. He said, "Now I know this is a huge request, Petters, but I need a favor. You know how recently, in our last discussion, how I mentioned I learned I had a son?" Mr. Petters replied, "Of course, Bruce. Anything for you, as an old friend. And yes, I do remember that. His name was Damian, right?" Bruce replied, "Yes, well I was going to request and see if it would be possible for Damian to come attend Gotham Academy for the rest of this year. The truth is, he hasn't had much social interaction with kids his own age, and after about a year of him being with me, I think it is high time that changes. He needs to be able to have peers, Petters. People he can have over and do things with, when he's not with me at events." Mr. Petters answered, "Bruce, I can talk to the school board, and see if we can work something out. If they say yes, then Damian can start next week." "Thank you, Petters, and let me know, as soon as you do yourself, what they say." , Bruce politely requested. Mr. Petters said, "Goodbye Bruce. Have a good rest of your day." The older Wayne answered back, "You too, Petters. Goodbye.", then hung up the phone. He slid his cell into his shirt pocket, and looked towards Dick, who was lying on the cushioned chair upside down, his long legs flipping over the back. 

The raven haired acrobat flipped over, and said, "Bruce, I hate to ask this, but are you sure this kind of thing is something Damian would want? He's not exactly the 'social' type, and he is your son. Shouldn't, you know, ask him what he wants?" Bruce replied, his voice gruff, "Damian needs to learn to get along with people his own age, Dick. I don't want him turning into the Batman or into someone like Jason, at the age he's at now. He needs people to be around him, so he can know how to live in this society. I had people, and you know that, but Damian has no one; all the people he's conversed with is himself, his mother, the League of Shadows, villains, and everyone in this family, all of which are older than him." Dick said, "I'm just saying, you may want to consider talking it over peacefully with him. When I walked in, you both were yelling at each other. I could see how mad you both were. Maybe the reason you two don't get along very well, is because you're so alike, and you don't see it. He wants to be controlling, as you are." Bruce frowned and replied, "Right now, I'm as mad at him, as I was when Jason started killing villains. I swear things need to change in this household, whether in costume as Batman or in my civilian clothes." Dick suggested, "If you're mad at Damian, why don't I go talk to him myself? He seems to listen to me more. Maybe I could get him to understand where and why these actions have to be done. As I said, you guys are both very alike, so you'll need someone opposite to cool him down. I'll go talk to Damian, and be back in time for the party tonight. I promise." Bruce relented, and said, "Alright. Dick, good luck." The raven haired acrobat nodded, then dashed out of the room.

As he headed up the stairs, Dick thought about how to talk to Damian best. He didn't think violence would be good, as the last time he had used it on the smaller assassin, he had gotten several cuts on his body, from trying to restrain and make sure the younger teen didn't kill someone out of anger. When he reached the top of the stairs, Dick headed for the bedroom he knew to be his younger brother's. He knocked, and asked, "Damian? It's Dick." When no reply came from inside the room, Dick continued, "Listen, can we please talk? I know you're mad at Bruce, but that shouldn't be any reason why you can't talk to your favorite brother, right?" Again, there was no reply from inside the room. Incredibly worried, Dick opened the door, and asked, "Damian?", and was stunned to silence, when he saw the chest that once held Damian's old clothes and katana open by the bedside. He was even more stunned, when he saw the bay window was open, letting in the cold air. Dick rushed over to the window, and looked out, his blue eyes wide with fear and worry! When he didn't see his brother at all, Dick stuck his head back inside, and smacked his head, as he groaned, "Ugh... Bruce is not going to like this. Not one bit."