The Watcher (Rewritten) - A Damian Wayne Story

Chapter 1

I meant to publish this chapter days ago but I kept forgetting lol sorry. But here ya go! Enjoy!

Bruce slammed his fists on the keyboard, frustrated. Another dead end. Not a single lead. It's been a year since his son's disappearance; he should've found something already. He put his head in his hands, taking deep breaths to calm himself. He looked back at the computer in front of him, at the red words flashing brightly on the screen: NO MATCH. He sighed, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again to shut down the search engine and make a call.

"Did you find anything, Bruce?" Bruce's eldest son, Dick, asked him hopefully.

"Nothing. The lead was a dead end, just like the rest of them. You?"

Dick shook his head sadly and sighed, looking off the screen at his lap. When he looked up again, there were tears in his eyes. "It's been a year, Bruce. We should've found him by now."

"I know, Dick." Bruce took a deep breath as he summed up the willpower to say his next words, knowing they would hurt his eldest son, just as much as they hurt him. "Maybe. . . Dick, maybe it's time to-" Dick's eyes turned hard, and his face lost every last trace of sadness it had in an instant.

"No! Bruce, don't you dare finish that sentence! We can't just give up on him!"

"Dick, it's been a year-"

"I know that, Bruce! But why are you giving up on him so soon? You've found and brought home people who have been missing for more than ten years! And you brought them back alive! So why can't you have the same faith in Damian? In us?"

"Dick-"

Dick held up a hand, stopping the older man in his tracks. "No," he said, tired all of a sudden. "I don't want to hear anymore of your excuses. Just because you gave up on your sons, it doesn't mean I'll give up on my brothers. Any of them. I won't stop until I find him, Bruce, and you can't make me."

The computer shut off, and Dick's face disappeared, and with that his posture. His whole body deflated, slumping in the chair. He hung his head in his hands. "I wasn't going to," Bruce muttered to himself.

"Of course not, Master Bruce," A British voice spoke from behind him, and he turned around to see Alfred, his butler, approaching him with a tray, presumably his supper. "I do not think you could stop Master Dick from doing anything he wanted, no matter how hard you tried."

Bruce chuckled weakly. "I know Alfred. My boys have always been stubborn." He sighed, accepting the plate of food from his most loyal friend as he continued. "It's just. . . Every lead we've ever found, even ones that seemed solid, they've always led to a dead end. I don't know what to do, Alfred. I don't want to give up, to move on, but I don't see any other choice."

"Why don't you just take a break?" Alfred suggested gently. "Let your brain rest and recharge. Then, perhaps you will have a new solution."

"But that's the thing, Alfred. I can't rest until I find Damian. I can't help but wonder if we're. . ." Bruce took a deep breath, setting down his fork on the tray. "Alfred, I can't help wondering that if we did find Damian, we'd be too late to save him."

"I understand, Master Bruce. But you need proper rest, so when you do find him, alive, he'll be able to come home to a healthy parent."