SHAMELESS ✔(Damian Wayne Fanfic)

SHAMELESS

Happier by Marshmello ft. Bastille

Play the song!

Pt 1
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Everyone saw how Damian watched over Valarie. He never left her side. That ugly green chair had been his best friend for the last three days.

Three days she hadn't opened her eyes. Three days he had to look upon her bruised face. For three days he watched her face heal, due to some magical liquid provided by Jacklyn.

The others kept themselves busy, and did there best to stay out of Damian's way. They were on a mission; "That could end with Gotham in ruins and Wayne Enterprises, broke."

Dick, however, couldn't. He had to see how he was doing.

"I just want to be alone. There is no need to make a fuss." Damian would say

And it was some what true. He did want to be alone, just with Valarie and thats all.

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It was one in the morning and he was off to get his seventh cup of Coffee that day. He didn't even like hot coffee, but he drank it anyway.

Watching the foam cup fill with dark coffee, he thought of what Valarie would say. She never denied or confirmed if she liked Hot coffee or not, but he knew her favorite was iced coffee. Valarie was the one who got him hooked on it in the first place.

A hand was placed on his shoulder and Damian whooped around quickly with nearest utensil, the end of a plastic spoon, pressed against the neck of...

" Priest." Damian breaths

Looking a bit frightened in his black shirt and the bible held to his chest, Damian drops the spoon and turns back around to put a cap in the coffee.

"Are you alright son?" Asks the priest.

"Yeah fine." He answers coldly. "Just tired."

The Priest chuckles and Damian feels his fists clench. What was funny?

"No son-"

"Im not your son." Said Damian through his teeth.

"Of course, yes." He nods. ''I was just...you don't look tired. You look weary." Said the priest "Is there something you'd like to talk about?"

Weary? Damian never saw himself as weary. His slumped shoulders, bad posture, the ability to look both discouraged and worried at the same time.

Damian hated that.

He hated how he felt the priests eyes on the back of his neck, judging him on how he walked. On how he looked. Untucked shirt, messy ungeled hair, sore fingers from cracking his knuckles, a stiff neck that stayed in place.

What did this man know? Who was this priest?

"You don't know me old man. Back off." Damian spat bitterly.

"Of course." the priest nodded, shrugging off his rudeness but still wanted to offer his help. "I just wanted to say that I know you're struggling and so does God. He can help you-"

"God!" Damian scoffed shaking his head. "If god is real, why did he put someone I care about in the hospital?"

"God has a way of making things happen. He has a way for putting people on a path. Something good will come from this."

What is the guy talking about?

He doesn't know anything.

Him and that stupid book and stupid God that he serves, what does he know about anything? 

"Will you let me pray for you?" Asks The Priest. "You have nothing to lose from allowing me to do so."

Damian didn't move. He also didn't agree or disagree, but Damian knew he was right. He had nothing to lose from praying.

Nuntii_Mortis

Thanks for your comments! I see you lol 🤣

Have a lovely day,

-Sasha