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Damian had never done very well with the cold.
Certainly the desert would plummet in temperature at night, but Damian had always worn thick clothing and boots. Talia hadn’t been shy about sending him to brave nature but she did make sure he always had adequate gear. In Gotham, that wasn’t the case as rich elites rarely spent any time outside. It was one of Damian’s dislikes about the culture of the city. One of many.
Due to this, Damian owned a limited amount of cold-weather clothes which usually was irrelevant. However, when the power went out at Wayne Manor, it became very relevant as the temperature quickly dropped right as everyone was getting ready for bed.
Damian had never known something to go wrong with the manor before and, while he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, when the lights first went out he’d felt a surge of panic. Once he located his siblings, who’d been having a movie night in the screening room, he quickly discovered no one else was panicked and that occasionally even the Waynes were subject to power outages. Their collective solution had been to ‘snuggle for warmth’ as Grayson so eloquently put it, in the sitting room as it had the largest fireplace.
Grayson had obviously invited Damian to join them, but he declined for obvious reasons. He had made it through his life this far without needing to rely on such things and saw no point in doing so when he knew his father was home and potentially would be joining in as well. Even if his father was different from his mother, he didn’t trust that things weren’t a test. He trusted what he’d been taught his entire life. What had kept him alive.
His spite and stubbornness did nothing to keep him warm.
His room was positively freezing and even in three sweatshirts, he felt himself shivering a bit beneath his comforter. Damian had thought bringing his laptop up and trying to use what little remained of the battery to work on his patrol reports would be enough to distract him from his troubles but he quickly found himself to be wrong.
I wonder if it’s cold in Nanda Parbat. Damian often felt his thoughts wander back to home on nights when he was alone or not feeling his best. His eyes drifted to his balcony and he left the covers to go outside, where it was significantly colder given the snow so that he could look up at the stars. His mother had taught him to do that when he missed her. It was quiet and comforting. The perfect solution when your mother was worried assassins may come to kill you if you cry for her.
I wonder what she’s doing right now. His mother was never a very…predictable person. She loved him. Damian knew that for certain. She loved him in a way that Father never expressed openly and it made Damian’s heartache for home, but at the same time, being around his mother meant being around Ra’s. Damian would sooner die than choose to be under the control of Ra’s ever again. Even if it meant living away from his Umi.
His socks grew wet in the snow and the cold persisted. Damian looked up and found that the balcony of the manor looked strangely like the rock of a mountain.
Where-
He was climbing. He’d forgotten that he had been climbing. His breathing began to grow ragged as the snow continued to fall, making his desperate task of clinging to the mountain a lot harder than it should’ve been. He was far too small to climb it properly and part of his gear had fallen hours ago.
He’d been climbing alone for hours.
His fingers felt like they were going to fall off as he reached for a radio only to remember he didn’t have one. No way to call for help or for his mother. His grandfather had warned him about that before he’d sent him. He should be old enough to handle himself now. He could handle a simple climb.
His wrist felt like it was on fire.
I want Umi. He’d wanted his mom with him from the moment he’d started his ascent. She had pleaded with his grandfather to be allowed to come but he denied her. He denied that Damian was of any use of all should he fail.
“Damian!” A yell sounded and all of a sudden Damian was blinking the mountain away.
Hands tried to touch him but he flinched away as the rock turned slowly to his snowy balcony. He felt the snow beneath his hands from where he now sat on the wet concrete.
“Damian, what's wrong?”
I’m in Gotham. He felt his heart racing as he looked up to see his father staring at him in concern. He’d forgotten. As much as he loved the stars, he should’ve considered the bad memories he associated with the snow. He still found himself panting even in his frozen state when his father crouched down to look him over.
“We need to get you inside. You look freezing and you’re not wearing gloves” his father told him gently as if he were something breakable. As if Damian hadn’t climbed the Interlaken mountains when he was four. With a broken wrist.
He couldn't find a voice or strength to answer as he absently rubbed his wrist but his father seemed to take that in stride. He slowly moved forward, standing, so that he was right in front of Damian’s shaking form.
“I’m gonna pick you up, ok Dames?” Bruce asked and Damian managed a small nod. Bruce had no issues picking him up from the snow, likely soaking his own pajamas in the process, to quickly bring him inside. He bypassed Damian’s bedroom and went straight for the bathroom to set Damian on the counter.
It was dark but his father quickly fixed that by pulling out a large LED light bar from under the bathroom cabinets. It filled the room with harsh white light that allowed Bruce to start helping Damian take off his socks. Damian stayed silent throughout the exchange, not paying any mind to what was happening. Not even when his father helped him out of his cold satin pajama set and into the Batman footie pajamas that Dick had placed in his drawer during April Fools last year.
So safe to say, he wasn’t really thinking very clearly.
Once he had been dressed Bruce picked him up and placed him on his hip with one arm and grabbed the light with the other so that they weren't walking in the dark as they left the room. Damian felt his father plant a kiss on his forehead as they made their way downstairs.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” his father asked quietly and Damian shoved his face into Bruce’s shoulder.
“I miss Mother” he confessed in a partial mumble as if Bruce wouldn’t understand it. Of course, Bruce did and decided to hold Damian a little tighter as they reached the west wing.
“Why didn’t you stay with us?”
“I can handle the cold” Damian muttered, upset with himself for proving the exact opposite. “I don’t like to fail.”
“It’s not failure to need family Damian,” Bruce informed calmly. “And even if you can handle the cold, isn’t this nicer?”
The question was followed by Bruce opening the door to the sitting room where Damian could see Dick was already asleep on one of the couches with his head in Jason’s lap. Warmth enveloped him in an instant. Meanwhile, Tim and Jason appeared to be playing a rather riveting game of chess on Dick’s back. Tim’s eyes were level with the board from where he sat on the ground by Jason’s legs. The fireplace provided plenty of light for them all to be seen clearly and for them to in turn see Bruce when he came in with Damian and set the light he’d been holding by the door.
Bruce didn’t say anything to the others and instead found the loveseat beside them and sat with Damian mostly in his lap. It was seconds later that the blanket that had been hanging off the back was wrapped around him. He snuggled closer to Bruce wondering why he’d ever hidden in his room in the first place.
“Hey, what happened to the baby?” Jason asked in a low tone and Damian felt himself stiffen.
That’s why. He’d known he had a reason. His first instinct was to pry himself away for the sake of his pride but his father was quicker and stronger to keep Damian in his place.
“Relax. No one’s making fun of you” Bruce comforted.
bullsh*t. Even if they weren’t doing now, Damian knew he’d hear about it later. Damian saw Tim turn to look at him in his peripheral vision and decided maybe it was better to just shut his eyes. He could feel it, but he didn’t want to see their judgment.
“He went outside didn’t he?” Tim guessed easily.
Stalker.
“He’s fine boys. Just go back to your game.” Bruce answered without really saying much of anything. Damian knew better than to think that was the end of it though. Not with his nosey family.
“You know, he probably wanted Talia,” Jason said quietly and Damian’s breathing hitched just slightly.
I do, but they won’t approve of that. I can’t think that way here. I shouldn't have told Father. His fist grabbed just a bit of Bruce’s shirt in the hope that maybe he would feel like the favorite parent and not abandon him. It was much warmer here than outside.
“Jason,” Bruce warned and Damian had a feeling his brothers turned back to their game. His father using the Batman voice in the house usually warranted immediate compliance. Damian could forget about that though as he felt the drowsy feeling take over his homesickness when his father began to rub his back.
“Go to sleep, Habibi.”
Damian was good at following orders.