I'll be good

Lost Boy

It had been two days since Damian left Wayne Manor, for what he thought would be for good. Ever since he laid eyes on his mother-- making her way into the house he finally felt he could call home-- the realization of how close she was to finding him set in. He had been so reckless— so foolish— to think that he could ever have a normal life and escape the one he was born into.

He was so sure that Bruce would be looking for him, whether it was out of the goodness of his heart, or because he was a spy for his mother. Either way, Damian made sure he was never going to be found. He was alone now, and as much as he missed the Wayne family he had grown to tolerate— or even... love— he couldn't go back. It was for the best.

It hadn't stopped raining for the past two days, and Damian was at his wit's end with the grim weather. His dark gray hoodie was soaked through, leaving an everlasting chill that caused him to shiver every other second, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it.

Damian thought long and hard about leaving Gotham behind; it's what he wanted to do, after all, nothing was tying him here anymore, and he needed a head start on his mother.

So why didn't he just leave?

If he had to be honest, Damian didn't know where else to go. All his life, he'd known nothing other than Infinity Island and the occasional helicopter trips to other places for business, but he didn't know where they were, and they usually didn't stay long in one place before going to another. His mother had shown him maps of the world when he was a child, so much that he had it practically engraved into his mind. But memorizing a map, and traveling to different countries on foot was completely different. He wasn't with the league anymore, he had no one to guide him, he had no money. Damian had no idea what he was supposed to do.

His thoughts always seemed to drift back to Wayne Manor and the family that resided there. It wasn't too late, he could return and make up some story that they would easily believe. But Damian still couldn't clearly understand what Talia's intentions were with Bruce, and he didn't know if he could completely trust any of them again.

But Bruce had always been kind to him, he took Damian in when he certainly didn't have to. He had clothed him, fed him, and made him feel a part of his weird, yet wonderful family.

Damian had felt more loved and welcomed in the short time he'd spent with the Wayne family than he ever felt his whole life living with his mother and grandfather-- his blood relatives.

But had it all been a trick? A ruse to draw Damian in and make him believe that they were trustworthy before handing him back to his mother?

Too many voices were running through his head, he couldn't seem to silence them. He could hear his mother's harsh words in his mind, telling him that he was weak, pathetic, and a coward over and over again. His grandfather's strident voice laced with disappointment and a hint of anger followed immediately after his mother's until both voices fused into one. It's what he heard every day since he abandoned the task his mother gave him. Since he failed to do what he was raised to do.

Damian couldn't erase the endless dreams he'd have of his mother's anger and fury directed at him, and the dreams he'd have of his grandfather killing him. They filled him with constant dread.

He'd tried to run as far as he could, hoping that he would never be found-- praying that she would leave the failure alone. Now she was here. He'd put everyone in danger; Damian knew what his mother was capable of, and his grandfather was much worse.

The nightmare was slowly closing in on him, and now he began to understand. Talia may be his mother, but he wasn't conceived to be a loving son to her; Talia didn't want a family, she wanted an heir-- A perfect spawn of fear and blood-- ready to bring a reign of terror upon the world.