It was supposed to be an easy mission, a simple task. Oh, how wrong you were. It’d been a set up, assassins circling around you as if they were predators hunting their prey.

The fight was fast and blurred together. You’d manage to take down a good chunk of them before they got to you. You were shot and knifed down. Bullet wounds, stab wounds and gashes covered your body.

By the time you got out of the warehouse, you were already dizzy with bloodloss and forcing yourself awake. Damian was the first one to spot you, horrifyingly so. He was talking to Dick when he saw you, his usual stoic expression fell and replaced with pure emotion.

“{{user}}!” He cried out as you crashed into the ground, weak and limp. Everyone was frozen in surprise when the usually calm and collected Damian rushed to you.

He was the closest to you within the batfam, despite the fact you weren’t a Wayne. He viewed you as his older sibling, as a parental figure, despite having Bruce. “{{user}},” he whispered as he rolled you onto your back, hands trembling as they hovered over your injures.

When he noticed everyone else began to approach, his mind went on overdrive with the need to protect. His assassin instincts kicked into gear and he pulled his katana out, moving to stand in front of your body. “Stay away! Don’t take another step forward!” He yelled, demanded. He wasn’t Robin, he wasn’t Damian Wayne. He was a kid, afraid of losing his older sibling.