Chapter Text
**Ommi, it's too cold.**
That's the thought that comes to mind ,while looking out at his Mother and the Demon’s head; Ra’s al Ghul, through tear filled eyes.
As the Green waters of the Lazarus Pit, sloshing as it fills the containment unit, soaking the four year old boy.
#**Flashback**#
“Damian, Habibi wake up”
The young boy opens his eyes , that almost seem to be glowing with a neon green light as he follow the voice of his mother
,
He says while being kissed on the cheek by his Mother, stifling a giggle as her long dark hair tickles his nose and ears, because emotions are a weakness to the future demon's head.
Talia looks at Damian and smiles sweetly at him, knowing that this will most likely be the last time her baby, not the demon's heir , will see a kind face.
“Hello Habibi, what were you dreaming?” The Demon's daughter calmly bundled Damian in blankets.
The child beams at his mother, “ I saw your tiger and it was by a kitten a little black one , I liked it… and then the tiger turned and slashed the kitten with her claws, and the kitten turned to blood and then a dog came out of the pool of blood crying and Mama the tiger killed it too!”
The woman hugs her child thinking of how she has often been compared to the feirce tiger in her bed chambers, and Damian the small kitten meant to be a lion.
….
“But fate is cruel.” She hugs her child and walks slowly out of the room, heart almost still as she leaves the room, warm moments melting like ice as soon as they step out to the threshold.
Positioning the smiling boy's head on her shoulder, Talia moves calmly as she walks past other assassins.
Keeping her grip loose on Damian to show her ease, and that he is not as important as they think.
*You're lying, Talia.* Her mind taunts as she continues walking down dark tunnels.
Aura darkening as she silently struts to her father's chambers and the Lazarus Pit.
…
Damian looks over his mother's shoulder, brilliant blue eyes peering through the dim candlelit hall, as shadows move and dance past him.
“Ommi , look the shadows!” He squeals as he tugs on his mother's hair.
Feeling himself shift in her arms, He is expecting a smile but is greeted with a cold mask and sharp green eyes.
“Ommi ?” He tries to whisper, as the continue walking.
Talia’s hand lifts, brushing his cheek—not gently. Not harshly. Just enough to interrupt. “Do not speak of what you see.” Her voice is low, clipped. It echoes slightly in the stone corridor.
Damian blinks, confused. He wasn’t being bad. He was being observant. That’s good, isn’t it?
She adjusts her grip, pulling him closer. Her lips hover near his ear. “You were right to notice. But wrong to announce.” Then, softer: “Good eyes, Habibi. But next time—watch in silence.”
Damian nods, unsure if he’s been praised or punished. But her arms are warm, and her voice—though sharp—still carries the rhythm of lullabies.
“They look like animals , Ommi.” He says calmly.
He rests his head against her shoulder, eyes drifting shut as the shadows stretch longer behind them.
Damian smiles as he is rocked softly as his mother walks lulled to calmness.
The moment of freedom before the pavement.
Talia orders her son The specimen to wake up. Voice chilly as she watches the boy open his eyes with a sleepover smile she doesn't dare return.
Walking down the stairs with him she puts him down on the ground.
“Are we going to see Grandfather?” He queries as he toddles to follow her, earning himself a stern glare as he has broken a rule.
**Grandfather is the demon's head, not family he will be addressed as such.**
“I'm soww-?!” He bows only to be slapped hard on his left cheek.
Looking up confused at his Ommi, to see her walking forward, “A Al Ghul never apologizes, cries, or admits pain, Damian, you should know that,” looking ahead as she hears the boy sniffle and continue to follow her.
“Yes, Mother.” The four year old says as he rubs his cheek and quickly puts his hand down.
“Good Damian, but next time do not show weakness.”
“Mama?" He tries.
"Be quiet Damian you are to be silent when you enter the room." Talia orders not daring to look at the project.
"Yes , Ommi." Damian sniffles.
Holding back a whimper as he follows his mother on know shaking knees , he wishes he could run but Mother would grab him no matter how fast he went.