Chapter Text
It all started with a patrol gone wrong.
Damian ducked under a punch, slamming his fist into the goon's solar plexus. The goon went down hard, giving him barely a moment to breathe before he was surrounded again.
Great. His comms weren’t working and Father had taken away his sword after deeming he was too reckless and dangerous with it. As if he had ever been anything but controlled.
Damian grunted as he took a hit to the ribs and narrowly avoided being slashed by a knife. He silently cursed his so-called “family” for leaving him alone like this.
It was supposed to be a simple patrol, Damian had unfortunately been paired with Drake. The patrol had been okay in the beginning, Damian content to just ignore the older boy, but after Drake’s relentless badgering and complaints about being paired with the demon spawn and how the younger boy was just going to try to murder him, Damian had enough and stormed off. He had been ambushed by some no name crook trying to be the next the Joker shortly after, and had tried to call for backup only to be ignored, leading him to his current situation.
Damian snapped out of it as he felt something be injected into his leg. He spun, snarling, and was met with the sight of the wannabe villain smirking at him, holding an empty vial in his hand.
“What did you just do?” He growled, lunging at him and pinning him against the wall by his throat. The villain, Puppeteer, his mind supplied him, choked out a weak laugh.
“Let’s just say, you’ll be finding yourself following everyone’s orders for the next few days. Now, be a good boy and let me go.” Damian opened his mouth to refute, but he quickly shut it as his body moved on his own and let go of the villain.
Puppeteer cackled and made his way towards the exit. “Don’t worry, little bird, it’ll wear off in a week! That is, if you live that long.” He suddenly stopped and turned to look back at Damian.
“Oh, and Robin? Don’t tell anyone.” Damian growled and moved to follow the villain, but he was suddenly struck in the head and blacked out.
Damian regained his consciousness a few hours later. He sat up, head throbbing. He put a hand to his head and sighed when it came back wet with blood. The vigilante ooked around, surveying. The villain and his goons were gone. Damian quickly stood up and started to make his way to the cave. He knew what he’d be greeted with, judgement and disapproval.
Was it really even worth it? They would never see him as more than an arrogant assassin that could never do anything but kill. Damian stopped his train of thought before it could go any further. Thinking like that would never do anything but make it worse.
He was met with silence when he finally entered the cave. Drake and Todd glared at him with contempt and annoyance from their spot at the computer. Dick’s sigh came from the corner, not even trying to hide his disappointment and exasperation.
“Robin.” Damian held back a flinch as he turned to look at his father. The bat stared down at him, cowl off and clear disapproval in his eyes.
“You abandoned Red Robin on patrol and disappeared to who knows where for hours.” Batman (Never Bruce or Dad, not when it came to Damian) growled. “I- But he kept-” Damian tried to defend himself but his father wasn’t listening.
“I don’t want to hear your excuses, Robin! You abandoned your teammate! He could have been seriously injured!” Batman snapped. “But what about me?” Damian wanted to scream, “I was injured! Why did no one come looking for me?” Damian’s father wasn’t finished, though.
“You’re banned from patrol for the foreseeable future. Obviously we can’t trust you with civilians if this is how you treat your partners.” Teammate, Damian’s mind supplied, never family, never brother. You’re not family.
“But, Father-” Damian tried to protest. Why wouldn’t anyone listen to him?
“Go to your room, Damian.”
Damian’s mouth snapped shut as his body moved without his permission. He heard Drake snort and mutter, “Serves, the brat right.” Damian ignored it, exiting the cave. The ache in his head grew as he trudged up the steps. His door clicked shut behind him. Titus and Alfred the cat looked up at him from the floor. He sank to the floor beside them and buried his face in Titus’s fur.
The pain in his head dulled as black creeped into the edges of his vision. In the back of his mind, a thought supplied that this was definitely not a good idea, but Damian was too tired to do anything but let the darkness finally take him over
Damian woke up surrounded by a pool of his own blood. Titus was letting out quiet whines next to him, nudging him. Damian groaned in pain. It was hard to keep his eyes open but he needed to stop the bleeding.
“Titus… Get the… med kit …” Damian managed to croak out. He’d trained Titus to do this after the last time he’d been left to treat his own wounds. Titus immediately obeyed, rushing to the open drawer and picking the kit up and dropping it next to his owner. Damian weakly managed to treat the cut and bandage it before he passed out again.
He woke up a few hours later. He didn’t feel as weak anymore. He could thank his advanced healing for that, he supposed.
Damian glanced at the clock by his bed. 9:07 PM. He’d missed every meal and no one had come to check on him at all. He sighed and got up slowly, stumbling over to the bathroom so he could clean up the dried blood.
For a moment, Damian stood there, just staring at the mirror. The boy staring back at him had dull green eyes and messy black hair soaked in blood. He looked.. broken, empty.
Damian closed his eyes and picked up the cleaning supplies. He didn’t have time for this. He’d work on finding an antidote tomorrow and avoid his family until then. Not like they’d notice or care.
With that parting thought, Damian let sleep consume him for the last time that night.