Batty Family - Batfam Oneshots

Al Ghul - Part 1 (Damian & Tim)

This is very much based on Zuko and Iroh's story in ALTA
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As much as he hated to admit it, Damian Wayne was an al Ghul. He was related to the very association that which he was fighting against. Not to mention, that was his blood. If Talia al Ghul could kill people, torture them, and do unspeakable things to them...why shouldn't he be like that? All his life, up until meeting his father, was based on making his mother and grandfather proud. While he no longer agreed with many of their morals, he still wished to impress those who raised him, even if that was a fault of his. These ideas were always in the back of his mind, but he never thought he'd get the chance to act on them. Not until that night, that is.

Damian was on his regular patrol route, along with Tim. It was just the two of them tonight, which bothered the boy tremendously, but he supposed he could get used to it—for the sake of the city, of course.

Everything was fairly normal. The moonlight illuminated alleyways, the stoplights illuminated streets, and Tim Drake illuminated a fury in Damian's soul.

"I'm telling you, that isn't how it works."

"And I'm telling you your wrong, Drake."

The teen groaned, "Why do I even bother?"

Damian was about to comment something snarky in response, but his brother was pulled out of his line of vision, and soon after, he was pulled, too. He struggled, but whoever this was, they knew his tactics. Only a moment later, he felt a sting in his arm and fainted.

When he woke up, he found that he was laying in the bed of his old room. He jumped, startled at his strange yet familiar surroundings, before his mother walked in.

"Oh, good, you're awake. I just finished making some tea."

"Mother," he grumbled.

"Is that any way to speak to your mother?"

"You kidnapped me and took me from my home!"

"Damian al Ghul!"

Damian froze upon hearing that name. It was the name he was given from birth, but he hadn't heard it in a long, long time. Those two simple words sent shivers up his spine and left him speechless.

Talia smirked, "Hm. I see you still remember your blood. I thought you might've forgotten after prancing around all those years as a Wayne."

He hated that ugly sneer in her voice. The Wayne family was a family of great nobility and pride.

"Don't insult me," he snapped back.

"Yes, yes. Listen, my son. I know you're upset with me and I know you think you want to stay with your father, but allow me to show you something."

She opened the door and he walked out slowly, afraid of what could happen if he didn't. Talia grasped his shoulder and dragged him along. They stopped at the door of a room before his mother opened the door and shoved him in. She stood behind him, also in the room.

What he saw when he went in was something he was always prepared for, yet never thought he'd have to see. There, on the floor, was Tim Drake—bound by ropes that were all too tight for his frame and left him bloodied and bruised. Damian heard him growl into the cloth tied around his mouth.

"Let my brother go!" he shouted.

His mother picked at her nails, "Oh, I plan to. But consider this—you could have this all the time—this power—if you would only come home to me. My love, you belong here. You do not belong in Gotham playing children's games. You are destined for more. You should be here where the Big League is, training and brawling. You'll be the most skilled assassin in all of America."

He clenched his fists, "I'm not convinced."

"You'd have the approval of me and your grandfather."

This was another concept that struck him silent. A great portion of his life was spent trying to prove himself to the al Ghuls. And now, the perfect opportunity presented itself. Could he skip this up? But how?

Tim withered and shouted in a panicked method, so Damian put his hand out, "Let him speak."

"As you wish, my son."

Talia unwrapped the cloth from the teen's face and he took a deep breath before speaking.

"Damian, don't do this."

"Why not?"

"This isn't what you want. I know it isn't. Talia's just trying to manipulate y—"

She kicked him in the stomach and he groaned loudly.

"What's in it for me?" Damian asked harshly.

"What?" his brother choked out.

"If I stay—what's in it for me?"

"Wh—I dunno, a good conscious, maybe? Dude, we don't help others to get something out of it; we help others because it's right and we don't need any other reason than that!"

"I'm starting to think it isn't right," he narrowed his eyes.

"How could you ever think that? You think annihilating other humans brutally with swords is better than what we're doing?" he sighed, "Dami, for once, just—please, listen. Listen! You gotta stop following the path another person sets for you. Choose your own destiny! I know you want to do good!"

"No, Tim. I have to go."

The teen began to shout, "I'm begging you, Damian! Don't do this! You need to listen to yourself this time! Ask yourself: who are you? And what do you want?"

It wasn't difficult for Tim to notice the shift in Damian's posture. There was a slight jerk in his posture, but Tim knew his little brother well enough to know that he struck a nerve.

"Let him go, mother."

He gave a sigh of relief, "Thank God, I—"

"You need to leave now, Timothy Drake."

"Dami—"

"I'm giving you one minute to leave this place, otherwise you will be the League's next target."

As his long locks of hair fell in front of his face, Tim opened his mouth to say something, but decided it against it; he closed his mouth and glared at Damian. They stared at each other for a few moments before Tim let his eyelids droop and he turned his head away from Damian to show his disappointment and betrayal. Then, he was gone.

Talia didn't know it, but that night, Damian watched his brother swing back home until he could no longer see the teen from his window's view.