Hey Brother

Chapter Twenty Five

Fun fact: I wrote this while eating buffalo tenders. Not relevant, just felt like sharing.

PS, they were yummy.

It was a solemn day at Wayne manor as the children of Bruce Wayne got ready to bury the empty coffin of their not dead brother Damian. 

It had been a week since Damian arrived in the box, a week since a bomb squad was called to the house, a week since the news was broken to the world that Damian Al Ghul-Wayne was dead, murdered by his own blood. 

Damian sat in his room with his siblings, all of them putting the finishing touches on their funeral appearances. It was to be televised, after all.

The media of Gotham was ruthless, not unlike Damian's mother.

"Are you sure this is the way to do things, Damian?" Stephanie asked, sitting down next to the youngest. "You can't recall at all where your mother took you and Jason?"

Damian sighed. "Sorry, I was a bit preoccupied by the fact I was being kidnapped by my terrorist mother and was witnessing what I thought was the brainwashing of my older brother. I didn't think to track our location."

His siblings winced, nobody saying a word for a few moments before Barbara spoke up. "Do you think the cops will buy our forgery of Jason's handwriting?"

"They better. That's the last thing we need right now, an investigation into what we are hiding." Dick scoffed. "They shouldn't look too hard at it though, I mean, Jason practically told us all to eff off when Talia came. I know it was a ruse but we are all witness to it so we can back up 'his' letter."

The letter they were all referring to was the one Tim forged in Jason's handwriting laying claim to the murder of Damian. They burned the original letter after making the cops that were there to witness Damian's reemergence sign a nondisclosure agreement.

"Are you okay with hiding out here until this is all over?" Helena sat on the other side of Damian, wrapping an arm around him.

"I am, if it means that Jason will live and come home to us eventually, then I will do whatever it takes." Damian smiled. "Now, I believe you all have a funeral to attend downstairs."

Tim snorted. "Yeah, yours."

"Make sure to cry extra hard, I was all of your favorite sibling, after all." Damian called after his siblings, snickering when Steph stuck her tongue out at him.

Damian sat in his room for what felt like ages, just staring blankly at a wall. He wasn't allowed near the windows or allowed out of the room until given the all clear by his parents so he was sentenced to boredom. He didn't feel like reading or doing anything, not while people he didn't know were televising his funeral down stairs.

He still couldn't believe that the people of Gotham were that disgusting that they would want to invade the privacy of a funeral for a twelve year old, but then again, this is Gotham. Damian was still learning the lengths people would go to for a good story.

And he was about to find out the hard way.

Damian heard the footsteps approaching his room just in time to find a hiding spot behind the clothes hanging in his closet. He heard the door to his room open and held his breath, waiting for the person who was presumably lost looking for the bathroom to realize they had the wrong room.

"This has to be Damian's room. Bingo."

Damian felt his blood run cold. This wasn't someone looking for the bathroom, this was a reporter. Here to snoop in his room. And there was nothing he could do about it.

"Quickly, we don't have much time before one of the Wayne brats finds us. We have to find something worth a scoop."

Damian heard them rummaging through his room and just hoped they put everything back where it was. And that they didn't come near him.

Damian's heart was pounding in his chest as time went on and he hoped against hope that one of his family members would come to his rescue. Oh, how he wished he still had his phone so he could send a text to them.

"Jack, check the closet."

Damian grew as still as possible, shrinking back as much as he could against the wall. He heard the closet door open and sucked in one last breath before screwing his eyes shut. Against all odds, this was scarier than playing hide and seek with his mother.

Damian sensed the intruder walk along the length of the closet, rummaging through the other side of the closet. Damian prayed that he stopped there.

But of course the universe was against him.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

Damian was yanked from the closet by his arm roughly, some of the hanging clothes toppling from the motion. He was shoved in front of the other reporter, a pleading look on his face.

"The Waynes...faked Damian's death?!" The first reporter scoffed. "That's low."

"Please, I can explain!" Damian tried but the two reporters were having none of it.

"They haven't been in the headlines lately so of course they would do something like this. Come on kid, the lie ends here."

Damian was grabbed on both sides by the two reporters and dragged from his room, his heart in his throat. He felt like he was going to be sick as he was pulled down the stairs and towards the back lawn, where his funeral was being held.

"Please, let me go. I can explain! Please, don't do this."

"Sorry, kid, but the people deserve the truth."

Damian began to struggle as they got closer to the back door, his pleas being drowned out by the eulogy Bruce was delivering into the microphone.

It all happened so fast.

The back door opened.

Damian was shoved out into the open, landing on top of his casket.

The reporters yelling that the Waynes faked Damian's death.

The uproar of the people.

The flashing of the cameras capturing the scene forever.

But worst of all, the television cameras that were streaming the whole thing live to a safe house where a certain mother son duo were watching the whole thing happen.