The Truth

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For the next few days, Damian kept mostly to himself. He wouldn't join the others for meals and stayed in his room for the majority of the day.

Bruce was worried about him; He wasn't entirely sure why Damian had cut himself off from the family. He was barely eating as well, which concerned Bruce. Alfred had left food outside the door for the boy, only to discover it had been untouched when he returned later on.

Bruce usually would attempt to gain access to Damian's room after knocking, but the door would always be locked, so Bruce gave up. After a few days, however, Bruce couldn't take it anymore. He felt that as Damian's soon-to-be-parent, it was his responsibility to make sure the boy was okay.

Bruce made his way to door at the end of the hall on the second floor, raising his fist to knock, he hesitated. He wanted more than anything to know what was going on inside the mind of the boy just behind the door. But he understood, having raised teenage boys, that they need space and alone time. But Bruce knew nothing about Damian's past, unlike his other boys, so he thought it wouldn't be best to leave him alone for now. For all he knew, Damian could be just fine, or he could be far from it. Regardless, Bruce needed to know, so he knocked.

For the first time, the door wasn't locked. Bruce slowly entered the dimly lit room, letting his eyes adjust to the difference in lighting.

"Damian?" he called, receiving no answer.

Bruce flicked the light switch on. Papers were strewn across the floor as if they had been thrown, otherwise, the room was tidy. He looked closely at the drawings on the floor, he was impressed; Damian certainly had talent.

Speaking of Damian...

The kid was nowhere to be seen. The room was relatively small in comparison to all the other rooms in the house, so he would have been easy to spot.

Panic began to rise in Bruce's chest, an emotion he hadn't felt in a long time.


***


Damian was fine, of course. He'd managed to slip out of his window and climb up to the roof, where he spent most of his nights. He, however, was currently unaware of the frenzied panic happening inside the house.

Dick had found him a few moments later. When he was young, Dick would always seek out solitude on the roof; to him, it was the most peaceful place in the world.

"Everybody's looking for you, you know."

"I know," Damian sighed, keeping his gaze forward, staring out at the city.

Dick sat beside him, following his gaze.

"Bruce thought you had been kidnapped." Dick chuckled lightly; That was always Bruce's first initial thought.

Silence followed after that. No reaction from Damian. It was like he was paralyzed.

"Mind telling me what's wrong?"

Silence.

Dick sighed, lightly drumming his fingers on the tiles on the roof. He wished this kid would open up, then maybe he could be of help.

"I feel like I'm half a world away from where I should be."

The voice was almost inaudible, almost as if the thought hadn't meant to be shared out loud. But Dick heard it, he heard the sadness and the confusion all at once. He shifted his position to look at Damian, the kid looked exhausted, and his eyes were red-rimmed and puffy as though he'd been crying.

Damian didn't look back at Dick though, he continued to stare at the city that seemed so far away.

"I don't... I don't really know what's wrong. Everyone keeps asking me that, and I don't have an answer."

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