Demons (Damirae)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

"Bella?!", the once seductive voice gasped with the fever and urgency that only a mother could posses, "Bella, where are you?!"

"She's safe.", Batman assured, equal part confused and utterly shocked.

"I'm coming over.", the voice growled, softening to comfort, "Bella, I'm coming for you, okay honey?"

The Batcomputer beeped, signalling that she -whomever she was- had ended the call.

Instantly, Bruce was met with an onslaught of questions. Sighing, the Batman kneaded his forehead, slumping forward in to his chair.

Bruce.
Was.
Done.

This was all too much, all too soon.

First, he finds out that his son is part demon- demon royalty as a matter of fact- then, his son has to drink blood in order not to loose control of his humanity - fucks sake!- oh, next he watched the boy and his friend tear a warehouse of creatures of legend to less than shreds, and now this!

She somehow got out, and now would be on her way here. How was he going to deal with this?

Bruce was broken out of his thoughts by a young, innocent voice.

"Ummm... mister, how do you know my mum?", her wide, light-green eyes stared intently from where she stood in front of him.

"Yeah, good question!"

"Dick. Shut up.", Raven glared at him.

Naturally, the other bat boys gave her a silent applause whilst Dick found something interesting to look at on the floor. Well, whad'ya know, a cat hair.

Bruce tilted his head up, meeting Bella's curious gaze. Smiling tiredly, he ruffled her curls, laughing as she got angry at him messing up her hair.

"It's a long story.", was all he said, making her frown.

Sitting on the floor next to him, Bella sighed (making everyone die a little inside at how cute she was) and Mr Pennyworth the cat sauntered over to her, curling up nicely in her lap.

The corners of Damian's lips lifted. Mr Pennyworth was a proud, snooty cat, if he was comfortable with the five-year old, there was no doubt about it, she was truly special.

Suddenly, she yawned, arms stretched out animatedly, making Raven remember what time it was. However, before she could do anything, Bruce scooped up the child without a second thought. It was like falling back in to a routine.

He did the same with Dick, when the boy was tired, taking his adopted son upstairs to his room. Jason was... different, but there were still times when he had to carry the second Robin upstairs (usually because he had fallen asleep somewhere). Tim had to be forced to sleep rather than live on caffeine, but he did often fall asleep in the middle of working after three days awake.

Then there was Damian.

Bruce couldn't help but smile at the memory of a prideful, entitled ten-year old Damian.

Shaking his head, Bruce carried Bella to an empty space to the left of the Batcomputer.

"Shall I, sir?"

"Please do, Alfred."

The butler pressed a button on the wall, causing a bed to emerge from a space below the area in front of Bruce: not a hospital gurney, or a single bed, but a full-size, bloody comfortable-looking double-bed.

Jason wiggled his eyebrows, "Hey, bigman, when did this ever come in handy?"

Dick chimed in, "Ooooh, who've you had over? I bet it was-ooof!"