Chapter 1
Disappointment.
It was a familiar feeling settled deep in his chest, a feeling that hadn’t left in the time he had been with his father. At least it didn’t stink up the air around him.
But, after two years in his father’s care-a stretch of the word, truly-he had only disappointment to continue to keep him company as he watched this family of his grow like some form of cult. When mother had first brought him to his father, the alpha so tall but somehow small compared to what he had been told, he had expected some resistance, it was no secret to him how he had come about, but that eventually his father would feel pride for his true heir; grandfather held pride for him, even mother did, but all he got from his father was weariness and scorn.
The scent was a heavy one around him, settled deep into the carpets and drapes of the manor, even from the Beta, Pennyworth.
Father had not been alone in his distrust of him, Grayson and later Drake also held little hope for him to become ‘better’, even with his…‘lessons’ from Pennyworth. With Drake it was somewhat…expected, he hadn’t been the exact best in his old behaviors; but Grayson knew he did admire Drake, in some sense, and was at least apologetic for his actions.
At least the butler always held an air of indifference towards him and others he deemed as guests or strangers, he could respect the servant for that form of equality, but it was blaringly obvious his own Father held no form of love for him.
It was like a strange acceptance, what the alpha held for him, like one did when they accepted they had consumed their twin within the womb or that they had inadvertently caused someone to perish for the greater good.
His basic needs were met, of course, father was not so cruelly neglectful in that sense: warm food, a room, an education both for schooling and how to be in ‘society’, his health checked upon, he was even allowed animal companions. Damian was still permitted to train within the gym as well, even with the title of Robin forever out of his reach, his grandfather’s katana cared for each night by his own hands after each session.
But that was all.
He was no fool, not so blind that he could not see he held no roots to this place nor his ‘family’.
Father clearly cared for Pennyworth, the alpha always looking to the beta for guidance or even for the parental affection, which the beta was only too happy to give.
He cared for Grayson, both alphas stubborn but loving, with Grayson poking the older Alpha and mouthing off to him in that mocking way he had seen families do on the television, but their bond was long since held, long before he had even been born.
He cared for Drake, the omega curious and strong in his allegiance to his chosen father, father only too happy to indulge the omega when needed, but also held a firm voice when the omega needed to rest and get away from electronics.
There was even a small memorial in the library for someone named Jason, likely the boy was the 2nd Robin, a young Alpha taken long before his prime.
Those were Bruce Wayne’s family, family he chose and loved and protected, their bond clear.
Damian was not family, hadn’t even formed any sort of feelings of pack with them. Blood or not, he was not his Father’s son. Father loved his sons, he accepted Damien.
Even with his ‘improvements’ over the course of his stay, Father refused to give him the title of the next Robin. When they believed him gone, he knew exactly why they did not want him as the next Robin. Murderous. Spoilt. Pretentious.
The Demon’s heir.
Pondering on this, his katana polished by his careful hand, Alfred the cat curled to his left and Titus at his feet, he realized that all the warmth of his family was there. His animals loved him. He loved them. He did not have to hesitate to consider their affections, not once did he need to consider their loyalty, nor they need to question his to them.
Animals were simpler in that way, they were all the pack he needed.
“So why not leave?” A voice whispered in his mind, eyes watching the slow glide of cleaning the sword. “It would be better than to suffer alone. Grandfather raised you better than that. You do not simper for love and family, that is weakness. If they do not wish to give you it, and if taking it is no longer an option, then leave.”
He should leave.
It wouldn’t be his first time alone, there had been missions mother sent him on that required only his presence, he would not need their care.
He sets his sword aside, his hands moving to stroke his companions, his heart easing at the sound of happy thumps and contented purrs. All he needed were them, that is all he needed in this world. Mother did not want him? Very well, he didn’t need her, she offered no warmth of pack. Father did not want him? He’s only lived with the man for two years, he’d be better off without the alpha. And the rest? Why would the rest matter? They formed their own pack, a pack he was firmly told he was not part of, verbal and otherwise.
“Now all I need to do is plan.” After all, it is best to use one’s head than to go on sheer instinct alone.
-
Two weeks had been all he needed to complete his gathering of items. Pack lightly, only take what you need, not what you want. He was happy he was unpresented, he had recalled omegas in the League who required a few more items of comfort, though alphas were not without this burden either. His backpack was light, with a majority being items for Titus or Alfred, with his katana being the more glaringly obvious item. He was careful in his escape, telling Greyson he would be training in the cave while they were out, they had trusted him that far.
When all were gone and Pennyworth in the manor, he escaped through there. Since the perimeter of the mansion had been such a needless pain in his first arrival of the area, he would simply take the other exit out that was less monitored. It helped that he had long since known how to drive.
-
The transport had a destination for Europe, an agreeable area in his mind as he snuck onboard with his companions. Ten days at the least it would take to cross the Atlantic, animal food and protein bars would do for them three. Dehydration was his greatest worry, as the freight took off.
-
Dizzy, but alive, Damian helped his pack off the ship and onto the darkened docks, running with them towards a safer location to rest and drink and eat. The stale air of metal walls giving way to salted air, cool on his skin; he focuses on feeding the pair first, as well as their water needs, before he finished off his last protein bar, eyes scanning around him. The hideaway was safe for now, but he would need to find a deeper city location he could access; although it would sicken him, he would not be above stealing for items he needed, honor was not needed when one had nothing left to choose.
French had been tossed around by the crew on the docks as he had run, giving him an indicator that he was in a major French speaking country, something about Havre.
Humming idly to himself, he drank from the warmed bottle, his mind clearing just enough for him to relax. He was thirty-five hundred miles away from his father. Good. Let’s see the Dark Knight try to uncover how he left so seamlessly.
-
He had been aware that homelessness was not an easy lifestyle, Grandfather had often ridiculed those in power for doing so little for the unfortunate. Grandfather had said he gave opportunity to those unable to feed or clothe themselves properly.
Damian was aware of how warped the mindset was, now.
He snarls over his own stupidity, leaving his backpack alone in what he had hoped was hidden away alcove while he had used a public washroom to clean up somewhat. Now all he had were his poor animals and his katana. The money, his spare clothes, the food, first aid, all of it gone now.
Pointing his glare up to the sky, he cursed the French weather for cruelly pelting him down with icy rain. No, he refused to give up and die. He was Damian al-Ghul Wayne, he refused to be done in by bad luck.
-
“There you are! Enjoy your cake!” He hollered, waving to the departing silhouette of the wedding planner as she ordered workers on how to place the cake properly in the reception hall. It had been a long, lonely drive, but the costumer had paid good money for a Dupain-Cheng original wedding cake for her wedding, and the commission had been worth it. Whistling to himself, Tom tucked away the signature into a folder, knowing his little macaroon would be so proud for his organization.
Just another three hour drive and he would be back home and able to enjoy dinner with his two favorite ladies!
He had been about to jump back into his truck when rough bark sounded behind him, making him jump before he could calm himself; turning to the dog, he saw how much the animal looked to shake in the cold rain, but with a determined look in its eye. It barked again, releasing a long whine as it almost seemed to try and tell him something.
“What’s got you so acted up?” He murmurs to himself, curiosity tickling at him as he locked his truck up, before following to see where the dog might be taking him. It didn’t look like a girl dog so probably not pups….
Backways and side streets the dog took, excited that someone finally listened to his barks it seems, until Tom’s eyes widen in shock. A boy, a small boy, probably no bigger than his little Marinette was curled up, a cough rough and loud breaking through the rain, as a cat curled firmly on top of him, as if it could keep him warm. The dog whines again, licking the boy’s cheek, only gaining a murmur of complaint, before those big brown eyes turned back to Tom.
Cursing, he removed his jacket, picking up the boy easily-too easily, merde he hadn’t even presented-and wrapping him in it, the pair of animals looking to him with hopefulness.
No pets, they had told their little girl when she requested a kitten or a hamster, much to the omega’s dismay; no pets, we need to think of allergies and food safety.
Well, no time like the present to break some rules.