Work Text:
Love.
A strange concept for him, it has many definitions and meanings but nothing seems to explain it correctly.
Damian Wayne at ten years old finds himself questioning, what is love? What is about love that makes it so important? He re-thinks once more the word.
Love
“Debility” Grandfather would correct.
“Weakness” Mother would add.
But he wasn’t in the league anymore, and those words shouldn’t matter anymore, but they do. They are graved in his mind, Grandfather and Mother achieved to penetrate all of his senses.
How did Richard loved so strongly? How Todd was capable of feeling it? How love founded Drake? How Cain could love so subtly? How Pennyworth loved so many?
How could he love? Since arriving in this household, in this city, in this unknown place, people have demanded love. Not once has he satisfied their expectations, he did not understand.
The concept seemed so foreign on his own, such a distant emotion for him and yet so close to everyone.
Love.
Damian Al Gh— no. Damian Wayne was failing miserably, even Drake seemed to get it. Irritating and infuriating. If only he could have asked earlier in his stay his pride wouldn’t be on the way.
“What’s love?” For most questions he would be direct (or too blunt as everyone liked to tell him). This specific dispute was an exception, clear example of how much of a coward he had become.
lost in his own thoughts Damian could have come to a conclusion; himself longed for that warmth. The demon’s heir pushed that thought away, leaving him with the last question.
Was he worth of obtaining it? Was he capable of receiving it? Was he able to take it? Here he was the child who has been called a demon more times than he has live wishing of something called love.
despicable
Shameless
Disgusting
And
Repugnant.
To even think about it condemn him to be a fool. Love might not find him as much as he seeks for it.
Damian Wayne, heir of the bat and the Demons son’s will live bearing the only thing he will not receive.
Love.