The Newest Wayne [COMPLETED]

Chapter 12~ The Bond of the Wayne kids

I knew I was screwed up from the past. I knew it. I knew I was broken and destroyed and traumatized, but I chose to ignore it all my life. 

Now, as I watched the post-patrol sunrise and bandaged my injuries, I actually had time to think about it. 

Maybe Mrs. Lopez was right. 

Maybe I was born to be a good-for-nothing rugrat. 

Maybe I should've never been born at all. 

So many maybe's. 

I huffed. Damian was still asleep on the couch, handcuffed to it. I couldn't help but smile at him, a deep sigh radiating itself from me. Over the past few weeks, I had felt so...alone, like I was just constantly fighting in vain. Nothing seemed to matter to me. It felt as if all the hard work I was putting forth, fighting off discrimination and putting forth my best effort in everything I did. Still, it was never good enough. 

No more distractions now. Tears flowed down my cheeks, though I wasn't sobbing. As if he was recognizing my emotions, Damian squirmed in his somewhat peaceful sleep. It had taken me almost a half hour to convince him to get some damn rest, but even that wasn't a relief. I decided to write the pain away, I pulled out a notebook and listed off everything around me. 

Blue couch

White wall

Sunrise

Grey sky

White cloud

I leaned forward as my eyes danced around the room like the flame of a candle dancing around its wick. I leaned against the wall next to me, wondering what the hell to do next. I started to silently play 'I spy' with myself, then I got up to get some more unpacking done. I grabbed the photo of Alfred and I in the library, smiling fondly at it before that hidden piece in the back of my mind reminded me: 

He found you annoying that day. You bothered him with your tears. 

I shook the thoughts away from my head before I grabbed an empty picture frame and put the photo inside of it. I huffed again before opening up the suitcase with Damian's stuff. The amount of katannas seriously scared me before I remembered who I was dealing with. I set aside the weapons, placing them delicately against the wall, then moved onto his more...average...belongings. I put his shampoo and his shaving razor in the bathroom and propped up a few photos that he liked on the table and on the walls. Then I got started on breakfast. 

"Hm, look who's up." I teased, sliding my toaster-waffles onto a plate. 

"Hm, look who still can't cook." He shot back. 

Damian, being the mature adult he insists that he is, stuck his tongue out at me. How mature. There is so much maturity in that one action alone. I decided not to mention it as he stood up and went to go brush his teeth, something he always did before he ate, because normal people absolutely love the taste of toothpaste remains mixing with their orange juice and waffles. 

-------

I got back home from work, swiftly greeting Damian before I made my way into the bathroom. I removed my blouse and stared at myself in the mirror, wearing a sports bra and my jeans, for a good few minutes. I stared at the curve of my waist, I could feel it. I could feel the creeping insecurity of my body. Tiny, curvy, undesirable. 

I sighed through my nose and put my shirt back on. I was lean and physically strong, I knew that much, it was obvious. It always is, when you're one of the bats. Still, my body and its appearance never really rubbed me the right way. Although that was a secret I would take to my grave. I tensed, then made my way back to Damian. 

"So, how's the head?" I tapped my own forehead ask a visual. 

"It's just fine." He clicked his teeth at me. 

I rolled my eyes at him, chuckling. 

We made small talk for the rest of the night. Mostly about work and some of my newest stories, before Damian went off to train for the night. I knew he wouldn't exactly be easy on himself and made a mental note to check up on him before I started to get to work on a case. Detective work was a part of the job that Damian always dreaded, which I never understood. I guess I just like the challenge, where Damian likes to do what comes naturally to him-fighting-while I'm more technical. 

This time it was a missing persons case. These tend to be complicated and intricate, but they're still easy enough, when you get a handle on them. I immersed myself in the case, examining every possibility: abduction, runaway, murder, human trafficking, homelessness, prostitution, a disagreement at home, hitmen, the league of assassins, superpowers. 

Anything could happen. 

"Examine everything carefully, even if you doubt it." Bruce told me as the two of us stared down at the case file. 

It was a hard case to work with. Nothing seemed to be adding up. It felt as if my head was being squeezed for its thoughts like a lemon being squeezed for its juice. I grunted, feeling restless. 

"Tiny ball of rage." 

Is that what Tim had called me, or was that Dick's nickname for me? Either way, it was true. I decided to take a short break and walked over to my purse. Slowly, I pulled out a pair of contacts and stared at them for a moment. Should I start wearing them again? I was an adult, as I decided, I could fend for myself....

right?

I made my way into the bedroom, where a punching bag hung from the ceiling, to make sure that Damian was doing okay. I didn't care if he wanted me out, I would drone on and bother him for hours if I had to. Anything to get my obnoxious message through his thick skull. 

"Wow, you're fast." Barbara gaped at me, watching me type out my latest chapter. 

"Hey, Katana-boy," I knocked on the doorframe, since the door was wide open, "all good in here?" 

"I'm capable of handling myself, Simba." He rolled his sea green eyes at me. 

"Nants ingonyama bagithi baba!" Jason yelled as he stood dramatically on the sofa, holding me up in some sort of weird reenactment of 'The Lion King', with Dick as Rafiki.

"Oh god, not that again!" I groaned teasingly.  

"Yes, that again." He countered.

We tease the hell out of each other, but if one of us ever needs help, we protect them no matter what. 

This is the bond of the Wayne kids.