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Damian Wayne watched from the shadows as his father laughed at a joke Timothy Drake made. It wasn't a good joke, but he laughed anyways. The ten year old looked at the book in his hands and sighed. It was a joke book. He had wanted to tell one, but the one he had liked had already been said by the former Robin.

He quietly left, knowing they hadn't seen him. Or if they had they had ignored him. Again.

"Master Damian," a light British accent rang in the hallway of Wayne Manor.

"Pennyworth," The ten year old didn't look up from his book. "I couldn't do it."

The old man's eyes look at him gently. "And why is that Young Master?" The child just looked behind him when the laughing got louder.

"Because," was all he could say. "Do I even belong?" The ten year old, almost eleven, sighed. "Never mind. I'll take my diner in my room again. I don't think my presence would be appreciated this night." His attitude shifted to his normal, stoic, unfeeling, type of way.

He drifted to his room after setting his book on a table off to the side of the hall. He hadn't a need for it anymore. He left oblivious to the look of sadness on the butler's face. The man was ever the professional though and quickly masked it and quickly went to inform the head of the house that dinner was almost ready.

Damian sat on his window seal and watched the dull blue sky slowly turn grey and black. There were no bright colors it seemed here in Gotham. Just shades of grey and black. As dull and boring as Damian's life will be for the next month. He was benched from being Robin for disobeying an order. Not that he was given a chance to defend himself, but he was quickly learning he would never get the chance to.

Ever since he was sent here by his mother he has been told he wasn't trusted. Either verbally by Jason Todd or Timothy Drake, or silently by his own father. The Bat-alarm rang through the house and Damian started to get up, before remembering he wasn't aloud in the Batcave. He sat down and shut his com off. He wasn't needed anyways so he might as well not listen.

He watched the news as his father and siblings quickly made work of Joker and Harley Quin. That's when he fully realized it.

'I finally see it,' he smiled softly, with the saddest look in his formerly bright green eyes. "I'm only in the way. I see that not. He turned the device off. He looked at his sadly, clinical, almost army like room. 'I've been here almost a year. And I never fitted it. Unlike the rest, I'm the one father doesn't want. Never wanted. No. Not father. Mr. Wayne. He is Mr. Wayne now.'

"Master Damian?" Alfred Pennyworth looked at the child sadly. Would you like dinner before you leave?"

"Have I gotten that obvious?" The tinny child sighed. "Can you help me pack afterwards? I'll need help finding all of my original things." The Butler nodded. He might be sad about letting Damian go, but the dark haired child needed to. He needed away from this oppressive atmosphere, where only two people acknowledge that he is a human. No matter how he had been raised, was still human. Still a child. Still in need of love and guidance.

"I'll miss you Young Master," the grandfatherly old man whispered. "It won't be the same without you." The child finished his last meal from the Wayne household and started packing.

"Same," the child smiled. "Same." It didn't take long for all of Damian's original items to be found and packed. All tracers taken off or destroyed. He might not be staying here, but there was no way he was going back to his mother and grandfather.

He looked at his plain, clean, boring room. He wrote a quick letter to his father and a longer one to Richard (Dick) Grayson. The letters in different forms explained why he was leaving, and to not follow him.

He left the building. With one last hug from Alfred, his dog, a Great Dane named Titus, on a leash and his cat, Alfred, in its cage. He left. He only paused to look back once before getting into the taxi the amazing butler had called for him.

He knew it would be a while before they realized he was gone. He also knew they would be happier away from the child. He was Damian Al Ghul-Wayne. A demon in human form. A thing to that plagued the Batfamily with hatred and violence.

-I am awake at 2:33am because this story would not leave my brain.

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