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Damian runs for safety.
He doesn’t know where he is. There are hundreds of scents invading his senses, high heeled shoes that threaten to dig into his thin scales, and noise. There was so much noise. Damian hates it. He hates it so bad, so much, that he tries to find relief from it. He dodges legs. He runs through skirts.
He hears someone calling for him, but he is blinded by his own panic. Hands try to grab him, but Damian slips through them like oil. He runs, runs, and runs. The lights are too much. The people, there’s so many people, Damian doesn’t like the amount of people that occupy his company. He tries everything within his power to avoid them. He’s just about to dive underneath a table when a heel presses onto his tail. Damian cries out in a surprise of pain. The stranger recognizes their mistake immediately, lifting their foot in the same panic that Damian feels, and the distraction is enough for hands to scoop Damian off of the ground.
“I’m-” the man, with short brown hair, and brown almond eyes struggles to say, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was underneath me. I didn’t see him. I-”
He continues to ramble excuses, and the person who carries Damian growls at him menacingly. He puts out, in a very not happy voice, “You don’t just step on a hatchling’s tail and get away from it.”
“I didn’t mean to,” the man says, taking a step back “I didn’t mean to, “ he repeats again, “I didn’t see him!”
Damian’s protector, Jason, takes an intimidating step forward. The aura that waves off of him is a crashing tsunami, and everyone around him shrivels to avoid his gaze. It’s the oppressive aura of a dragon. Not many can avoid it nor withstand it. Damian himself shivers in fear. He remembers this feeling. It is his grandfather all over again. He is in his throne room, he is stuck in the cage, and he is calling for relief.
“Jason,” Tim says, placing a hand on his angry brother’s shoulder, “don’t.”
“He harmed Damian!”
“He didn’t see him!” Tim defends. “It was a mistake! You’re not in your right mind. Why don’t you just take a breather?"
Damian supposes this is what happens when he strays from his father. This is not the first time he’s braved to go elsewhere, but it is the first time that he’s suffered such consequences.
“I’m not going to just leave when-” Jason continues, eager to continue arguing on Damian’s behalf, but then Damian createst the smallest of whimpers. Jason’s rolling aura was still weighing down on him like a ton of bricks, and Damian was scared that he might just end up flattened.
Jason looks down at him, stunned. His expression dawns with realization. He looks up at the people surrounding them, and then back at Tim who gives him a knowing look.
“Take care of Damian, Jason,” Tim commands.
It is strange to have the younger of the two throw out commands, but Jason freezes in consideration. He hesitates. He is torn between destryoing Damian’s attacker (Damian appreciates the sentiment), and tending to Damian’s needs. The choice that Jason makes is clear by the receding of his murderous intent. He takes a mental step back from wanting to tear someone’s throat out, and begins to rumble in an attempt to soothe a frightened hatchling.
Jason turns. He pushes past gowned women, finely dressed men, and gives his father the briefest of glances.
They connect eyes for only a few seconds, but Jason’s goal is already made. He escapes the ball room for the hall.
Damian presses an ear against Jason’s chest as his older brother rumbles like the comforting hum of an engine. He proceeds to carry Damian to the security of their nest, and then he gently lays Damian down upon the cushions.
Damian watches him as he shifts. Jason’s body changes in a smooth transition. He grows longer, fatter, with thick red scales that protect his body. He climbs onto the cushions with a heavy puff of breath, and then he circles around Damian with his body. He traps Damian in his claws. He spans out his wings to shield him.
Damian chirps weakly in a nervous question.
Jason’s demeanor changes once more at the call of a hatchling. He cranes down his neck whilst laying sideways to rub his nose against the top of Damian’s head, down the curve on the back, and over his neck. He rumbles all the while in an attempt to reassure the baby, the hatchling, guiding Damian’s head upwards to mark his claim. Damian allows him this action with an eager attempt to expose himself, leaning into his ministrations, because Damian was in want of Jason’s approval. He wanted to please him. He wanted to calm him down, so that he wouldn’t make the scary aura again.
Jason licks the top of Damian’s skull. He begins nipping at the back of Damian’s ears, their father’s favorite spot to groom, and hums as he cleans by scraping his teeth gently over sensitive scales. Damian melts into a puddle. His tail didn’t hurt anymore. It flicks in acceptance, love, and happiness. Damian didn’t know why he’d been so panicked to begin with. Nothing seemed to matter in the nest. He was safe.
“I’m going to teach that man a lesson if I ever see him again,” Jason rumbles lovingly, “What an absolute piece of garbage.”
Damian’s not sure how he makes the sentence sound lovingly, but it makes him feel a certain thrill run down his spine. He loves the devotion, the protective tone, and he wants more of it.
“You are to be safe,” Jason tells him, “and protected.”
Damian feels the faintest of rumbles pick up in his own chest.
“Treated with care, like a piece of china, forever preserved in beauty.”
Jason’s nose rubs across his cheek. Damian rubs back eagerly.
“Fed like a little prince, honored like royalty,” Jason mumbles into his ear, “and sung of, sweetly, in the best of poetry.”
Damian falls content as Jason scents his neck once more. He keeps his head back to help him have easy access to the weak part of his body, the neck, where he could easily sink fangs if he wished to draw blood.
Jason sighs when he finishes. He covers Damian with the entire span of his wing, tucked in between claws, and shields him from the outside world.
He keeps Damian pressed against his bosom. His heart. Damian listens to the gentle beating.
“That man’s tail will be mine, ” Jason promises.
Damian knows it to be true.