Fic: To Make Most of Time
DVD COMMENTARY PART 2
“What did my mother want?” Damian finally asked as Grayson smoothly piloted the plane over the Atlantic, the Batplane back at its normal speed.
“One of your aunts has essentially been ordered by your grandfather to become impregnated by Tim,” Grayson bit out.
Damian grimaced. “I suppose my mother had her reasons for telling you, however.”
Grayson glanced at him, and then back to the window shield. Damian was pretty sure Grayson knew why his mother had informed him, but Grayson was adamant about getting him ‘to talk.’ Which was ridiculous-he had no problem talking.
“Since my mother was able to leave my grandfather, her political situation within the League of Shadows has been precarious. If my aunt has Drake’s child, then my mother’s situation becomes all the more precarious. She has everything to lose and nothing to gain if it occurs. If you warn Drake, and Drake prevents it, my mother has a stronger chance of keeping a strong foothold within the League, another step to overturning my grandfather in the future,” Damian said tonelessly.
I kinda get the sense that being in the al Ghul family is like being in the Borgia family. The same jockeying for power, the same using-sex-to-gain-power. Someone should write that AU-Ra’s as Pope, with Bruce as the powerful Bishop or Cardinal of Gotham. Ra’s uses Talia to compromise Bruce to get him to stop investigating Pope Ra’s, and Talia gets pregnant, so Bruce takes in the child to his household, full of his wards/squires/knights/so on when Talia dies of plague or whatever. I don’t want to write it. Someone else should.
“No offense, kid, but how your family approaches reproduction is weird. Is dating and marriage too commonplace?”
Damian stiffened at the insult, but then relaxed again. “My grandfather is not the only one who has access to Lazarus Pits for his health, you know.”
“True enough,” Grayson murmured. “Patrol, tonight, I think you have the night off.”
Damian looked sharply at him. “What?”
“Damian, I don’t care however you put it, you were shot. You almost died-technically did, if I understood the explanation about regeneration correctly. That’s deserving of a night off.”
“But the thug who shot me-he should know he failed!” Damian exclaimed, clenching his fists in his pockets.
“He will. But not tonight,” Grayson’s voice brooked no argument. “Besides, we have to order you a new suit anyway. That’ll take some time.”
Damian sank down in his seat, arms crossed in front of his chest. Grayson removed one hand from the control column and ruffled his hair. He grasped Grayson’s wrist.
“Don’t. Touch. My. Hair.”
Grayson laughed, easily freeing himself and placing his hand back on the control column. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”
“Your humor is lacking, and you have to butcher Shakespeare as well? -tt-,” Damian pressed his lips together.
That only made Grayson laugh harder, damn his eyes. What was so funny?
Finally, Grayson shook his head. “You’re adorable, kid.”
Damian huffed.
--
“So, why exactly are you prepping the Batplane?” Colin wanted to know, shoving his hands inside of his pockets.
Damian barely spared his friend a glance. “I need to go somewhere.”
“Without Batman?”
Damian glared at the redhead. “Are you coming or not?”
“I don’t know, Dami,” the redhead scuffed a foot on the dirty ground. “It feels wrong to go in the Batplane without Batman.”
I think Colin’s the only person in Gotham who would call Damian ‘Dami.’ According to Batman vs. Robin, that’s Talia’s nickname for Damian, so I can’t see him wanting anyone else to call him that. The in-universe nickname that has been given to him was used by Babs, and that’s ‘Little D.’ I see Steph and Babs using it more often than Alfred/Dick/Tim.
“You faced down Zsasz with me, and now you’re stalling from the Batplane?”
“Where are we going?” Colin asked sharply.
Damian swayed slightly, before grasping the hull. Colin rushed to his side, but Damian waved him off. “I know where we’re going. Feel up to the Himalayas?”
“Why there?” Colin inquired, his eyes intent as he looked Damian over. Unlike Grayson, Pennyworth, and his mother, he had been fairly unsurprised by Damian’s change in appearance. He knew Damian was still Damian, but for whatever reason, this new body was just a little weaker.
That’s because Colin can transform into an adult at will. Sudden changes in appearance do not phase him. He recognizes that the personality is the same; the outer shell is just different.
If I was a Damian/Colin shipper, Colin would be the perfect Companion. I mean, he still could be. But Damian needs Dick more, so that’s where I went with this. But if someone wants to, they can write Colin as Companion. I just don’t get enough of his character to write it.
“There’s something there I need to get,” Damian told him. “And I’m fine-I’m just...acclimating. I don’t know what it is yet, but there’s something in the Himalayas I need to get. Grayson still thinks I’m weak from what happened last night, and he’d want to go with me. I don’t think...” he fell silent. “It needs to be just me, this time. And you. I need someone to be in the Batplane. You don’t even have to exit.”
“Why do you want the company?” Colin asked, gently resting his hand on Damian’s shoulder. He flinched-what was with people wanting to touch him?-but Colin held on. “Last time I checked, you hated to have to work with people except Batman.”
Damian scrubbed at his face. “I feel the need to be around people, and I don’t like it.”
Oh hi, Time Lord tendencies.
“So you want human companionship? That’s not a huge thing,” Colin said quietly.
“It is for me,” Damian replied. He looked at Colin, who finally took his hand away. “Are you coming or not?”
“Yeah, I guess I am,” Colin sighed. “If I die, I’m haunting you until the end of time, though.”
“You’re not going to die,” Damian muttered, but they both climbed into the plane. Before he turned on the engine, he flicked off the automatic GPS. Pennyworth likely already knew that he’d taken the Batplane, but by the time Grayson came looking for him, they’d be gone.
That was the plan, anyway.
He plugged in the necessary coordinates-there was a storehouse in the Himalayas that his grandfather had for various war prizes. Something niggled at him, buzzed under his skin. That was where he needed to be.
I see Ra’s having various safe locations around the world to keep his earthly goods. The Himalayas would be one of the better choices, if only because of accessibility.
Even on full throttle, it would take some time for the Batplane to get there. Colin leaned back in his seat. “Isn’t Batman going to be really mad?”
More than likely, but Damian steered his mind away from that. “Whatever,” he dismissed. His impulsivity hadn’t changed much. “He can’t cage me.”
Colin flinched momentarily, before looking out the window.
PTSD reference. I mean, Colin was caged by Zsasz’s people.
“I don’t think that was what he had in mind. He’s just worried about you,” Colin said softly.
Damian cut his gaze away from the window shield to Colin. “Why are you arguing for him?”
“I could see how much he cared about you,” the redhead insisted, “when he entered the ring after we’d stopped Zsasz. It’s one thing to choose a different fight within Gotham. It’s another to fly to a different country halfway around the world.”
Colin’s a Damian/Dick shipper. He saw enough of how DickBats dealt with Damian, and he Approves.
He felt the guilt rise up in his chest, hot and choking, but he swallowed. “I need to do this,” he finally said, turning his gaze back to the sky in front of him.
Colin huffed. “Of course you do.” He got up from the fellow pilot seat and wandered back into the passenger section, closing the door behind him, leaving Damian alone with his thoughts and his guilt.
Another reason why Colin would be a perfect Companion. He could definitely be the Donna to Damian’s Doctor (though that would make Dick Rose, which makes me a little...uncomfortable).
What was so important about this buzzing? It was more...telepathic than anything else, and it wasn’t invasive, but more like...a cherished friend or sibling calling out for attention.
Damian snorted. He didn’t have a cherished sibling, and the closest he had to a cherished friend was Grayson, and Grayson was more likely to be pissed than calling out for attention at this moment.
There’ll be another screaming match, and possible grounding from patrol for at least two weeks. But whatever this was would be worth it-he could tell.
In the Streets of Gotham issue where Damian meets Colin, he references past screaming matches. I don’t see Dick yelling at Damian all that often unless it’s about killing people, and bad Damian, no more killing people. So that’s pretty much what I’ve settled on.
At least, he hoped so.
The next few hours were spent in quiet contemplation. He suspected Colin had fallen asleep, which was all right. The sky never really changed-the Batplane always coordinated for the flight with the least weather problems if it had that luxury.
Finally, as the plane touched down in an abandoned landing strip, Damian quietly typed in instructions as Colin woke up slowly. “So, I’m just going to wait here for you?”
“That’s the plan,” Damian smirked, bundling up and grabbing his pack. “Thanks for coming.”
“No prob,” Colin yawned. “Give me a beep if you need help.”
“-tt-. Like I would.”
Colin laughed, and tilted back in the seat, closing his eyes. “See you.”
“See you,” Damian murmured, climbing out of the plane and watching the door close up. He backed up a few paces, and suddenly the plane began to turn, to get ready to take off.
His handheld computer confirmed: AUTOPILOT ENGAGED.
I can see Bruce doing this. Under certain circumstances, I could see Dick doing this but feeling horribly guilty. Damian feels guilty, but he knows if he meets up with League assassins, Abuse isn’t enough, and Dick would be angry at him for putting Colin in that position.
Colin appeared at the window, banging on it, clearly angry. Damian shook his head in apology. Colin might never forgive him for this, but he had brought Colin for this exact purpose, even if he might have stretched the truth a little.
Whatever was calling to him had the power to get him home.
Sighing, he started walking. The warehouse wasn’t too far from here, but he had no doubt he’d be met with a welcoming committee. He had to keep his mind clear.
As he walked, he saw no one in the hills, but that didn’t mean anything. The League used ninjas, after all. He kept his scanner going for life signs. Little things were picked up-likely small wildlife-no large signs as complicated as a human being. He still felt the prickling sense at the back of his head that he was being watched, and he likely was, and this location was structurally unsound from protecting him-he was at the foot of a valley. He could still defend himself adequately, if it came to that, but he would prefer to be on higher ground.
The valley began to arc up, and his GPS was buzzing more urgently; he was close. The cold air was starting to seep through his heavy coat to his sweater underneath, but if a fight came, he was ditching the coat. It would weigh him down.
His katana was strapped to his back underneath the coat, but he could still access the hilt if he needed it. He resettled the strap-it was cutting into his shoulder-feeling nervous energy flood him. He was good, especially with Grayson’s training, but if his grandfather had many guards...
He couldn’t think of that now.
He stopped in front of a rock face. It wasn’t sheer, but craggy and marked by wind erosion. His GPS told him this was the location. “So where’s the door?” he mused, running a hand over the rock in front of him. His fingers touched something smooth, made mechanically so, and the rock disappeared, a long hallway draped in shadow appearing instead. With a quick glance at his surroundings, he ducked inside.
I did consider having a fight scene here, but throwing the TARDIS into the mix made it...uncomfortable. So, headcanon: the TARDIS knew Damian was coming, and so she clouded Ra’s mind when it came down to it.
The air was warmer-much warmer. There didn’t appear to be climate control, but this part of the world wasn’t known for geothermal vents, either. He decided not to think about it as he pulled off his pack, shucking his coat and tucking it inside his pack, before hoisting it on again, making sure to leave his katana free.
The TARDIS can manipulate temperature. The TARDIS kinda acts as a Deus ex Machina in this story, but she’s a character as much as Dick and Damian. I just gave her character screentime.
The buzzing was stronger inside; it led him down a path through numerous crates that had no label. He had no doubt that the inside of these crates alone would set up a man and his many generations following, but he had more important quarry. The buzzing led him to another turn, and then, after two more blocks, something stood there that didn’t belong.
It was a crate standing up, with a latched door and something on the top in the same kind of circular script that was on his watch. He felt for it, comparing the two symbols-not the same symbols, but definitely the same script. He started to run towards it, the buzzing overwhelming him. It should be making him dizzy, but instead, he felt clarity. He put his hand on the door, trying to understand, but then the buzzing disappeared, and he stumbled for a moment, before something abruptly heated within his pocket. He yelped, emptying it.
A tiny golden key fell to the floor and chimed as it hit the ground. He knelt, picking it up cautiously. It wasn’t hot anymore; rather, it felt good in his hand. Like it belonged. Carefully, he inserted it into the lock on the latch. It turned.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled the crate door open and looked inside.
--
“Where is Damian?” Dick growled in the Bat-voice, pacing back and forth. Goddamnit, that kid was going to be the death of him.
Tim watched him pace, frowning. “Just because he turned off the internal GPS doesn’t mean he turned off the external GPS.”
Dick looked at Tim. “You think I haven’t thought about that?” He pulled a hand through his hair, scowling. “I’m getting crossed wires on it. I’ve got O on it, she’s trying to call up the internal feed, but there’s some kind of interference. And in the meantime, I have no idea where he is.”
“He’s probably out making a mess we’ll have to clean up,” Tim muttered. “And Vicki Vale’s still investigating us. Fantastic.”
“Tim,” Dick snapped. “Have you not heard anything about recent events? Damian almost died, and you’re worried about PR? Priorities, man.”
“The fact is he didn’t die, and he’s currently who-knows-where, perhaps wreaking vengeance on the person who did it for sheer sadistic pleasure, which we’ll have to take the fall for,” Tim argued. “How did he get shot anyway? I thought he took pride in being a ninja.”
“I had left my back open, and the villain of the week decided to take advantage. Damian ducked in front of me,” Dick said tiredly. “I think he forgot about the Kevlar in the heat of the moment.”
Damian’s protective of Dick. I definitely saw it during the whole 99 Fiends thing, where pretty much everybody Damian took out was aiming at Dick in some way. At one point, Dick noticed, but we never got an onscreen Moment of Talking About It, so I don’t think Dick thought a lot about it (Bruce is similar). But Damian knows, even if he won’t talk or even think about it.
Tim opened his mouth, but then the icon for Oracle showed up and Barbara’s distorted voice came through the intercom. “I’ve got the Batplane online.” She pulled up the monitor, and Dick and Tim gathered at the viewscreen. To their surprise, it was not Damian who showed up, but Colin.
“Colin?” Dick asked with some surprise. “What are you doing in the Batplane?”
The boy blushed, rubbing the back of his head. “Damian asked me to come with him to the Himalayas because he had to find something. He didn’t know what it was, but he needed to find it.”
“And he didn’t ask me because...?”
“He said he needed to do this himself.”
“Great. We not only have a psychopath, we have a psychopath who feels like he’s on a mission,” Tim muttered.
“Tim, not helping.”
“Sorry.”
“But you’re not currently in the Himalayas,” Dick pointed out to Colin.
Colin flushed with anger. “That’s because the jerk engaged the autopilot after he got out! I was willing to wait for him, y’know, in case he needed help, but he got out, and sent me back to Gotham! What if he needs help or something? I’ll be too far away.”
Dick paled. “He’s in the Himalayas alone?”
“Whatever he needed was in one of the League of Shadows warehouses,” Colin continued, unaware of Dick’s fading color.
“He’s in the Himalayas alone at one of the League’s warehouses without backup?”
“Yeah,” Colin grumped. “Um, Batman, I’m really sorry that he didn’t let me stay--.”
“Tim, get the rocket ready to go, I need to be in the Himalayas two hours ago,” Dick ordered, pulling up the cowl. “Colin, Tim will make sure you get home safely.”
“Is Damian in trouble?”
“You have no idea,” Dick growled.
“Master Richard, if I might intrude,” Alfred’s voice floated from the elevator, and Dick paused to look at the butler.
“Yes Alfred?”
“Master Damian is right here,” from behind Alfred, Damian appeared, looking vaguely sheepish. On the viewscreen behind Tim, Colin’s mouth dropped open, as did Tim’s (but for a different reason).
Dick stalked over to Damian, crossing his arms and looming over his protégé. “What. Did. You. Think. You. Were. Doing.”
Damian met his gaze, looking almost apologetic. “There was something I needed to do. I didn’t engage with anyone from the League. It was unguarded-no gas, no anything.”
“What did you need to do?” Dick hissed out. Colin blushed, and Tim looked off into space. Very rarely did Dick show his anger at Damian in front of witnesses, as a favor to Damian and to himself-he must be furious.
I think Dick won’t disrespect Damian by yelling at him in front of others, especially Tim. If he’s yelling at Damian in front of Tim, he’s beyond pissed.
“Can I show you?” Damian offered. “I parked her at the top of Wayne Tower.”
Dick stared, momentarily thrown. “What?”
“Let me show you,” Damian insisted, offering his hand. “You’ll understand once you see her.”
Still angry, but recognizing Damian had his reasons, Dick took the proffered limb, and let Damian lead him into the elevator. Once the doors closed, Tim sighed. “I didn’t expect that.”
Hands, metaphysically and in the dream state, represent communication. I repeat that motif periodically throughout this entire thing, where Dick takes Damian’s hand (not so much vice-versa). It represents times when Damian puts himself on the figurative line for Dick, and hoping Dick will respond appropriately. Dick always does, even if he feels his emotions are murky at the moment.
“What, Master Tim?” Alfred inquired, picking up the dishes that had been supper.
“How he looked. I mean, Dick warned me, but...it’s a change.”
“Um, still here?” Colin said softly.
Tim turned back to the viewscreen. “The Batplane will land in the bunker. I’ll take you back to the orphanage once you get here, okay?”
“Okay,” Colin agreed. The viewscreen turned off.
Tim pulled at his hair. “This could’ve been a disaster.”
“Might I recommend, Master Tim, that if you cannot trust Master Damian, at least trust Master Richard?” Alfred said carefully. “He knows Master Damian better than anyone else.”
“He’s a monster, Alfred,” Tim said with a sigh, sitting down at the chair facing the computer.
“Perhaps,” Alfred allowed. “But he’s getting better.”
When I wrote this, I had only read Tim’s Red Robin run, and I hated him in it. I have since read him in other runs, and found him much more likeable, but this is Red Robin!Tim talking.
--
“This thing you needed to do-was it a Time Lord thing?” Dick asked angrily as the elevator climbed to the top of the tower.
Damian met his eyes, calm and even a little excited. “Yes. You’ll understand when you see her, I promise.” As the elevator doors opened, Damian towed Dick up the remaining set of stairs to the roof access door, showing Dick proudly what stood there.
Dick raised a brow behind the cowl at the innocuous crate with a latchkey. “This is her?”
Damian was already opening the door. “Come inside, Grayson.” Dick followed, still angry, but after he walked into the crate, his mouth dropped.
“It’s bigger on the inside.”
I admit it: I had to include this line. There are certain lines that we can recognize DW for, and this is one of them that has long survived multiple writers/showrunners.
--
Damian glanced at Grayson nervously as his mentor slowly pulled the cowl back, rotating around to take in the sight of her. A thrill of pride vibrated in his chest-his ship, his TARDIS.
A gift left from his biological mother.
“Damian, she’s beautiful,” Grayson breathed out, finally meeting his eyes again. Damian flushed with pleasure-she was. The console was orderly and colorful, with a glass floor. The lighting wasn’t hard on the eyes-it was a soft white rather than harsh fluorescents-and it shone on the rounded curves of the ship itself. A staircase wound up and led to other halls, halls Damian could hardly wait to explore.
It’s not quite Eleven’s TARDIS, but that’s definitely the model I based it on. I don’t see Damian liking the more natural look-I think he’s a techie, through and through.
His TARDIS. A creature of refined beauty.
“She’s telepathic. As soon as I integrated my Time Lord consciousness, she awoke and pinged me. I had to get her-I couldn’t leave her in my grandfather’s hands,” Damian confessed, running a hand over the console. Beneath his hand, the ship hummed. “From what records are here, my biological mother promised her to my grandfather in exchange for taking me in and protecting me, but she never promised him a key.”
Susan is sneaky. Also, when I wrote this, I had this rough idea that Susan hid Damian not only from the Daleks, but the Doctor as well, which is why she took him to the League of Assassins, rather than...Superman. Or Batman. The Doctor wouldn’t think to look for his great-grandbaby with assassins (which later comes to bite him in the ass with River Song). She wanted her son to be protected from the Doctor, because the Doctor killed the Time Lords, and her son’s full Time Lord.
Damian held up the small golden key that had appeared when he showed up at her door, smirking. “There’s something called a perception filter-it changes how you view something-and my biological mother made sure it was extra-concentrated around me. It’s why my father’s paternity test came out positive. I believed I was his son, and so my DNA matched.”
Grayson’s eyes widened. “That explains the watch, then.”
Damian nodded, looking back to the console, tracing buttons carefully. “She’s a TARDIS-Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. She can travel through time and space-it’s how I got here before Colin. She’s wonderful.”
Grayson’s hand on his shoulder and squeezing lightly wasn’t new, but the lack of breath that came with it was. “I can tell.”
O HAI BEGINNINGS OF ATTRACTION.
“Am I still grounded for releasing a sentient ship from my grandfather’s predatory grasp?”
Grayson pursed his lips. “One week, instead of two. Besides, you can’t patrol until your new suit comes in anyway.” He winked. “That’s what we’ll tell Tim, anyway.”
Damian fought a smile.
“But you don’t disappear like that without telling me again,” Grayson added seriously, folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t care if the Green Lanterns are telling you they need you on your home planet or whatever. You tell me, got it, kid?”
A Green Lantern/DW crossover would be interesting, but I don’t know nearly enough about GLs to make it worth my while.
Damian nodded, shoving his hands inside his pockets.
“I can understand why you did it, though,” Grayson almost sounds...wistful. “I wouldn’t want her with Ra’s al Ghul, either.”
Damian ducked his head. “Thank you, Grayson.”
“What did my mother want?” Damian finally asked as Grayson smoothly piloted the plane over the Atlantic, the Batplane back at its normal speed.
“One of your aunts has essentially been ordered by your grandfather to become impregnated by Tim,” Grayson bit out.
Damian grimaced. “I suppose my mother had her reasons for telling you, however.”
Grayson glanced at him, and then back to the window shield. Damian was pretty sure Grayson knew why his mother had informed him, but Grayson was adamant about getting him ‘to talk.’ Which was ridiculous-he had no problem talking.
“Since my mother was able to leave my grandfather, her political situation within the League of Shadows has been precarious. If my aunt has Drake’s child, then my mother’s situation becomes all the more precarious. She has everything to lose and nothing to gain if it occurs. If you warn Drake, and Drake prevents it, my mother has a stronger chance of keeping a strong foothold within the League, another step to overturning my grandfather in the future,” Damian said tonelessly.
I kinda get the sense that being in the al Ghul family is like being in the Borgia family. The same jockeying for power, the same using-sex-to-gain-power. Someone should write that AU-Ra’s as Pope, with Bruce as the powerful Bishop or Cardinal of Gotham. Ra’s uses Talia to compromise Bruce to get him to stop investigating Pope Ra’s, and Talia gets pregnant, so Bruce takes in the child to his household, full of his wards/squires/knights/so on when Talia dies of plague or whatever. I don’t want to write it. Someone else should.
“No offense, kid, but how your family approaches reproduction is weird. Is dating and marriage too commonplace?”
Damian stiffened at the insult, but then relaxed again. “My grandfather is not the only one who has access to Lazarus Pits for his health, you know.”
“True enough,” Grayson murmured. “Patrol, tonight, I think you have the night off.”
Damian looked sharply at him. “What?”
“Damian, I don’t care however you put it, you were shot. You almost died-technically did, if I understood the explanation about regeneration correctly. That’s deserving of a night off.”
“But the thug who shot me-he should know he failed!” Damian exclaimed, clenching his fists in his pockets.
“He will. But not tonight,” Grayson’s voice brooked no argument. “Besides, we have to order you a new suit anyway. That’ll take some time.”
Damian sank down in his seat, arms crossed in front of his chest. Grayson removed one hand from the control column and ruffled his hair. He grasped Grayson’s wrist.
“Don’t. Touch. My. Hair.”
Grayson laughed, easily freeing himself and placing his hand back on the control column. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”
“Your humor is lacking, and you have to butcher Shakespeare as well? -tt-,” Damian pressed his lips together.
That only made Grayson laugh harder, damn his eyes. What was so funny?
Finally, Grayson shook his head. “You’re adorable, kid.”
Damian huffed.
--
“So, why exactly are you prepping the Batplane?” Colin wanted to know, shoving his hands inside of his pockets.
Damian barely spared his friend a glance. “I need to go somewhere.”
“Without Batman?”
Damian glared at the redhead. “Are you coming or not?”
“I don’t know, Dami,” the redhead scuffed a foot on the dirty ground. “It feels wrong to go in the Batplane without Batman.”
I think Colin’s the only person in Gotham who would call Damian ‘Dami.’ According to Batman vs. Robin, that’s Talia’s nickname for Damian, so I can’t see him wanting anyone else to call him that. The in-universe nickname that has been given to him was used by Babs, and that’s ‘Little D.’ I see Steph and Babs using it more often than Alfred/Dick/Tim.
“You faced down Zsasz with me, and now you’re stalling from the Batplane?”
“Where are we going?” Colin asked sharply.
Damian swayed slightly, before grasping the hull. Colin rushed to his side, but Damian waved him off. “I know where we’re going. Feel up to the Himalayas?”
“Why there?” Colin inquired, his eyes intent as he looked Damian over. Unlike Grayson, Pennyworth, and his mother, he had been fairly unsurprised by Damian’s change in appearance. He knew Damian was still Damian, but for whatever reason, this new body was just a little weaker.
That’s because Colin can transform into an adult at will. Sudden changes in appearance do not phase him. He recognizes that the personality is the same; the outer shell is just different.
If I was a Damian/Colin shipper, Colin would be the perfect Companion. I mean, he still could be. But Damian needs Dick more, so that’s where I went with this. But if someone wants to, they can write Colin as Companion. I just don’t get enough of his character to write it.
“There’s something there I need to get,” Damian told him. “And I’m fine-I’m just...acclimating. I don’t know what it is yet, but there’s something in the Himalayas I need to get. Grayson still thinks I’m weak from what happened last night, and he’d want to go with me. I don’t think...” he fell silent. “It needs to be just me, this time. And you. I need someone to be in the Batplane. You don’t even have to exit.”
“Why do you want the company?” Colin asked, gently resting his hand on Damian’s shoulder. He flinched-what was with people wanting to touch him?-but Colin held on. “Last time I checked, you hated to have to work with people except Batman.”
Damian scrubbed at his face. “I feel the need to be around people, and I don’t like it.”
Oh hi, Time Lord tendencies.
“So you want human companionship? That’s not a huge thing,” Colin said quietly.
“It is for me,” Damian replied. He looked at Colin, who finally took his hand away. “Are you coming or not?”
“Yeah, I guess I am,” Colin sighed. “If I die, I’m haunting you until the end of time, though.”
“You’re not going to die,” Damian muttered, but they both climbed into the plane. Before he turned on the engine, he flicked off the automatic GPS. Pennyworth likely already knew that he’d taken the Batplane, but by the time Grayson came looking for him, they’d be gone.
That was the plan, anyway.
He plugged in the necessary coordinates-there was a storehouse in the Himalayas that his grandfather had for various war prizes. Something niggled at him, buzzed under his skin. That was where he needed to be.
I see Ra’s having various safe locations around the world to keep his earthly goods. The Himalayas would be one of the better choices, if only because of accessibility.
Even on full throttle, it would take some time for the Batplane to get there. Colin leaned back in his seat. “Isn’t Batman going to be really mad?”
More than likely, but Damian steered his mind away from that. “Whatever,” he dismissed. His impulsivity hadn’t changed much. “He can’t cage me.”
Colin flinched momentarily, before looking out the window.
PTSD reference. I mean, Colin was caged by Zsasz’s people.
“I don’t think that was what he had in mind. He’s just worried about you,” Colin said softly.
Damian cut his gaze away from the window shield to Colin. “Why are you arguing for him?”
“I could see how much he cared about you,” the redhead insisted, “when he entered the ring after we’d stopped Zsasz. It’s one thing to choose a different fight within Gotham. It’s another to fly to a different country halfway around the world.”
Colin’s a Damian/Dick shipper. He saw enough of how DickBats dealt with Damian, and he Approves.
He felt the guilt rise up in his chest, hot and choking, but he swallowed. “I need to do this,” he finally said, turning his gaze back to the sky in front of him.
Colin huffed. “Of course you do.” He got up from the fellow pilot seat and wandered back into the passenger section, closing the door behind him, leaving Damian alone with his thoughts and his guilt.
Another reason why Colin would be a perfect Companion. He could definitely be the Donna to Damian’s Doctor (though that would make Dick Rose, which makes me a little...uncomfortable).
What was so important about this buzzing? It was more...telepathic than anything else, and it wasn’t invasive, but more like...a cherished friend or sibling calling out for attention.
Damian snorted. He didn’t have a cherished sibling, and the closest he had to a cherished friend was Grayson, and Grayson was more likely to be pissed than calling out for attention at this moment.
There’ll be another screaming match, and possible grounding from patrol for at least two weeks. But whatever this was would be worth it-he could tell.
In the Streets of Gotham issue where Damian meets Colin, he references past screaming matches. I don’t see Dick yelling at Damian all that often unless it’s about killing people, and bad Damian, no more killing people. So that’s pretty much what I’ve settled on.
At least, he hoped so.
The next few hours were spent in quiet contemplation. He suspected Colin had fallen asleep, which was all right. The sky never really changed-the Batplane always coordinated for the flight with the least weather problems if it had that luxury.
Finally, as the plane touched down in an abandoned landing strip, Damian quietly typed in instructions as Colin woke up slowly. “So, I’m just going to wait here for you?”
“That’s the plan,” Damian smirked, bundling up and grabbing his pack. “Thanks for coming.”
“No prob,” Colin yawned. “Give me a beep if you need help.”
“-tt-. Like I would.”
Colin laughed, and tilted back in the seat, closing his eyes. “See you.”
“See you,” Damian murmured, climbing out of the plane and watching the door close up. He backed up a few paces, and suddenly the plane began to turn, to get ready to take off.
His handheld computer confirmed: AUTOPILOT ENGAGED.
I can see Bruce doing this. Under certain circumstances, I could see Dick doing this but feeling horribly guilty. Damian feels guilty, but he knows if he meets up with League assassins, Abuse isn’t enough, and Dick would be angry at him for putting Colin in that position.
Colin appeared at the window, banging on it, clearly angry. Damian shook his head in apology. Colin might never forgive him for this, but he had brought Colin for this exact purpose, even if he might have stretched the truth a little.
Whatever was calling to him had the power to get him home.
Sighing, he started walking. The warehouse wasn’t too far from here, but he had no doubt he’d be met with a welcoming committee. He had to keep his mind clear.
As he walked, he saw no one in the hills, but that didn’t mean anything. The League used ninjas, after all. He kept his scanner going for life signs. Little things were picked up-likely small wildlife-no large signs as complicated as a human being. He still felt the prickling sense at the back of his head that he was being watched, and he likely was, and this location was structurally unsound from protecting him-he was at the foot of a valley. He could still defend himself adequately, if it came to that, but he would prefer to be on higher ground.
The valley began to arc up, and his GPS was buzzing more urgently; he was close. The cold air was starting to seep through his heavy coat to his sweater underneath, but if a fight came, he was ditching the coat. It would weigh him down.
His katana was strapped to his back underneath the coat, but he could still access the hilt if he needed it. He resettled the strap-it was cutting into his shoulder-feeling nervous energy flood him. He was good, especially with Grayson’s training, but if his grandfather had many guards...
He couldn’t think of that now.
He stopped in front of a rock face. It wasn’t sheer, but craggy and marked by wind erosion. His GPS told him this was the location. “So where’s the door?” he mused, running a hand over the rock in front of him. His fingers touched something smooth, made mechanically so, and the rock disappeared, a long hallway draped in shadow appearing instead. With a quick glance at his surroundings, he ducked inside.
I did consider having a fight scene here, but throwing the TARDIS into the mix made it...uncomfortable. So, headcanon: the TARDIS knew Damian was coming, and so she clouded Ra’s mind when it came down to it.
The air was warmer-much warmer. There didn’t appear to be climate control, but this part of the world wasn’t known for geothermal vents, either. He decided not to think about it as he pulled off his pack, shucking his coat and tucking it inside his pack, before hoisting it on again, making sure to leave his katana free.
The TARDIS can manipulate temperature. The TARDIS kinda acts as a Deus ex Machina in this story, but she’s a character as much as Dick and Damian. I just gave her character screentime.
The buzzing was stronger inside; it led him down a path through numerous crates that had no label. He had no doubt that the inside of these crates alone would set up a man and his many generations following, but he had more important quarry. The buzzing led him to another turn, and then, after two more blocks, something stood there that didn’t belong.
It was a crate standing up, with a latched door and something on the top in the same kind of circular script that was on his watch. He felt for it, comparing the two symbols-not the same symbols, but definitely the same script. He started to run towards it, the buzzing overwhelming him. It should be making him dizzy, but instead, he felt clarity. He put his hand on the door, trying to understand, but then the buzzing disappeared, and he stumbled for a moment, before something abruptly heated within his pocket. He yelped, emptying it.
A tiny golden key fell to the floor and chimed as it hit the ground. He knelt, picking it up cautiously. It wasn’t hot anymore; rather, it felt good in his hand. Like it belonged. Carefully, he inserted it into the lock on the latch. It turned.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled the crate door open and looked inside.
--
“Where is Damian?” Dick growled in the Bat-voice, pacing back and forth. Goddamnit, that kid was going to be the death of him.
Tim watched him pace, frowning. “Just because he turned off the internal GPS doesn’t mean he turned off the external GPS.”
Dick looked at Tim. “You think I haven’t thought about that?” He pulled a hand through his hair, scowling. “I’m getting crossed wires on it. I’ve got O on it, she’s trying to call up the internal feed, but there’s some kind of interference. And in the meantime, I have no idea where he is.”
“He’s probably out making a mess we’ll have to clean up,” Tim muttered. “And Vicki Vale’s still investigating us. Fantastic.”
“Tim,” Dick snapped. “Have you not heard anything about recent events? Damian almost died, and you’re worried about PR? Priorities, man.”
“The fact is he didn’t die, and he’s currently who-knows-where, perhaps wreaking vengeance on the person who did it for sheer sadistic pleasure, which we’ll have to take the fall for,” Tim argued. “How did he get shot anyway? I thought he took pride in being a ninja.”
“I had left my back open, and the villain of the week decided to take advantage. Damian ducked in front of me,” Dick said tiredly. “I think he forgot about the Kevlar in the heat of the moment.”
Damian’s protective of Dick. I definitely saw it during the whole 99 Fiends thing, where pretty much everybody Damian took out was aiming at Dick in some way. At one point, Dick noticed, but we never got an onscreen Moment of Talking About It, so I don’t think Dick thought a lot about it (Bruce is similar). But Damian knows, even if he won’t talk or even think about it.
Tim opened his mouth, but then the icon for Oracle showed up and Barbara’s distorted voice came through the intercom. “I’ve got the Batplane online.” She pulled up the monitor, and Dick and Tim gathered at the viewscreen. To their surprise, it was not Damian who showed up, but Colin.
“Colin?” Dick asked with some surprise. “What are you doing in the Batplane?”
The boy blushed, rubbing the back of his head. “Damian asked me to come with him to the Himalayas because he had to find something. He didn’t know what it was, but he needed to find it.”
“And he didn’t ask me because...?”
“He said he needed to do this himself.”
“Great. We not only have a psychopath, we have a psychopath who feels like he’s on a mission,” Tim muttered.
“Tim, not helping.”
“Sorry.”
“But you’re not currently in the Himalayas,” Dick pointed out to Colin.
Colin flushed with anger. “That’s because the jerk engaged the autopilot after he got out! I was willing to wait for him, y’know, in case he needed help, but he got out, and sent me back to Gotham! What if he needs help or something? I’ll be too far away.”
Dick paled. “He’s in the Himalayas alone?”
“Whatever he needed was in one of the League of Shadows warehouses,” Colin continued, unaware of Dick’s fading color.
“He’s in the Himalayas alone at one of the League’s warehouses without backup?”
“Yeah,” Colin grumped. “Um, Batman, I’m really sorry that he didn’t let me stay--.”
“Tim, get the rocket ready to go, I need to be in the Himalayas two hours ago,” Dick ordered, pulling up the cowl. “Colin, Tim will make sure you get home safely.”
“Is Damian in trouble?”
“You have no idea,” Dick growled.
“Master Richard, if I might intrude,” Alfred’s voice floated from the elevator, and Dick paused to look at the butler.
“Yes Alfred?”
“Master Damian is right here,” from behind Alfred, Damian appeared, looking vaguely sheepish. On the viewscreen behind Tim, Colin’s mouth dropped open, as did Tim’s (but for a different reason).
Dick stalked over to Damian, crossing his arms and looming over his protégé. “What. Did. You. Think. You. Were. Doing.”
Damian met his gaze, looking almost apologetic. “There was something I needed to do. I didn’t engage with anyone from the League. It was unguarded-no gas, no anything.”
“What did you need to do?” Dick hissed out. Colin blushed, and Tim looked off into space. Very rarely did Dick show his anger at Damian in front of witnesses, as a favor to Damian and to himself-he must be furious.
I think Dick won’t disrespect Damian by yelling at him in front of others, especially Tim. If he’s yelling at Damian in front of Tim, he’s beyond pissed.
“Can I show you?” Damian offered. “I parked her at the top of Wayne Tower.”
Dick stared, momentarily thrown. “What?”
“Let me show you,” Damian insisted, offering his hand. “You’ll understand once you see her.”
Still angry, but recognizing Damian had his reasons, Dick took the proffered limb, and let Damian lead him into the elevator. Once the doors closed, Tim sighed. “I didn’t expect that.”
Hands, metaphysically and in the dream state, represent communication. I repeat that motif periodically throughout this entire thing, where Dick takes Damian’s hand (not so much vice-versa). It represents times when Damian puts himself on the figurative line for Dick, and hoping Dick will respond appropriately. Dick always does, even if he feels his emotions are murky at the moment.
“What, Master Tim?” Alfred inquired, picking up the dishes that had been supper.
“How he looked. I mean, Dick warned me, but...it’s a change.”
“Um, still here?” Colin said softly.
Tim turned back to the viewscreen. “The Batplane will land in the bunker. I’ll take you back to the orphanage once you get here, okay?”
“Okay,” Colin agreed. The viewscreen turned off.
Tim pulled at his hair. “This could’ve been a disaster.”
“Might I recommend, Master Tim, that if you cannot trust Master Damian, at least trust Master Richard?” Alfred said carefully. “He knows Master Damian better than anyone else.”
“He’s a monster, Alfred,” Tim said with a sigh, sitting down at the chair facing the computer.
“Perhaps,” Alfred allowed. “But he’s getting better.”
When I wrote this, I had only read Tim’s Red Robin run, and I hated him in it. I have since read him in other runs, and found him much more likeable, but this is Red Robin!Tim talking.
--
“This thing you needed to do-was it a Time Lord thing?” Dick asked angrily as the elevator climbed to the top of the tower.
Damian met his eyes, calm and even a little excited. “Yes. You’ll understand when you see her, I promise.” As the elevator doors opened, Damian towed Dick up the remaining set of stairs to the roof access door, showing Dick proudly what stood there.
Dick raised a brow behind the cowl at the innocuous crate with a latchkey. “This is her?”
Damian was already opening the door. “Come inside, Grayson.” Dick followed, still angry, but after he walked into the crate, his mouth dropped.
“It’s bigger on the inside.”
I admit it: I had to include this line. There are certain lines that we can recognize DW for, and this is one of them that has long survived multiple writers/showrunners.
--
Damian glanced at Grayson nervously as his mentor slowly pulled the cowl back, rotating around to take in the sight of her. A thrill of pride vibrated in his chest-his ship, his TARDIS.
A gift left from his biological mother.
“Damian, she’s beautiful,” Grayson breathed out, finally meeting his eyes again. Damian flushed with pleasure-she was. The console was orderly and colorful, with a glass floor. The lighting wasn’t hard on the eyes-it was a soft white rather than harsh fluorescents-and it shone on the rounded curves of the ship itself. A staircase wound up and led to other halls, halls Damian could hardly wait to explore.
It’s not quite Eleven’s TARDIS, but that’s definitely the model I based it on. I don’t see Damian liking the more natural look-I think he’s a techie, through and through.
His TARDIS. A creature of refined beauty.
“She’s telepathic. As soon as I integrated my Time Lord consciousness, she awoke and pinged me. I had to get her-I couldn’t leave her in my grandfather’s hands,” Damian confessed, running a hand over the console. Beneath his hand, the ship hummed. “From what records are here, my biological mother promised her to my grandfather in exchange for taking me in and protecting me, but she never promised him a key.”
Susan is sneaky. Also, when I wrote this, I had this rough idea that Susan hid Damian not only from the Daleks, but the Doctor as well, which is why she took him to the League of Assassins, rather than...Superman. Or Batman. The Doctor wouldn’t think to look for his great-grandbaby with assassins (which later comes to bite him in the ass with River Song). She wanted her son to be protected from the Doctor, because the Doctor killed the Time Lords, and her son’s full Time Lord.
Damian held up the small golden key that had appeared when he showed up at her door, smirking. “There’s something called a perception filter-it changes how you view something-and my biological mother made sure it was extra-concentrated around me. It’s why my father’s paternity test came out positive. I believed I was his son, and so my DNA matched.”
Grayson’s eyes widened. “That explains the watch, then.”
Damian nodded, looking back to the console, tracing buttons carefully. “She’s a TARDIS-Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. She can travel through time and space-it’s how I got here before Colin. She’s wonderful.”
Grayson’s hand on his shoulder and squeezing lightly wasn’t new, but the lack of breath that came with it was. “I can tell.”
O HAI BEGINNINGS OF ATTRACTION.
“Am I still grounded for releasing a sentient ship from my grandfather’s predatory grasp?”
Grayson pursed his lips. “One week, instead of two. Besides, you can’t patrol until your new suit comes in anyway.” He winked. “That’s what we’ll tell Tim, anyway.”
Damian fought a smile.
“But you don’t disappear like that without telling me again,” Grayson added seriously, folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t care if the Green Lanterns are telling you they need you on your home planet or whatever. You tell me, got it, kid?”
A Green Lantern/DW crossover would be interesting, but I don’t know nearly enough about GLs to make it worth my while.
Damian nodded, shoving his hands inside his pockets.
“I can understand why you did it, though,” Grayson almost sounds...wistful. “I wouldn’t want her with Ra’s al Ghul, either.”
Damian ducked his head. “Thank you, Grayson.”