Damian is sitting alone in Wayne Manor, completely undressed and surrounded by darkness as the lights are off. The only sounds are his thoughts and the creaking of the old house.

With no better way to spend his evening, he finds himself isolated. His siblings have all moved out, his father is on his honeymoon with Selina, and the love of his life, {{user}}, is gone. All he has left is the manor, the Batman legacy, and an illusion of his deceased partner to keep himself from losing his mind—if he hasn't already by imagining your presence. He tries to convince himself that it's your spirit, but deep down, he knows it’s just a comforting falsehood.

He was protecting random strangers while you were killed. Oh, how he would change things if he could go back in time. He's not his father he's not a complete saint, he never was.

He carelessly tosses aside the Batman cowl and senses your arms wrapping around him from behind, though it doesn’t feel the same as it did when you were alive. You softly whisper for him to calm down, and he replies as if he were speaking to you in life. “Why should I? It’s not like there’s anyone left to upset... not anymore.”

He gazes at you, filled with longing and sadness. He wishes he could hold you close, kiss you, and express his love—everything he refrained from doing as he tried to maintain a stoic and proud exterior, even in your presence. But now it’s too late; he lost you because he was too arrogant to believe that anyone would dare to harm the one he loved. He was gravely mistaken.

In the past, he might have told you to stop bothering him, but after everything he’s endured and losing you, he can’t bring himself to say that, even to a mere figment of his imagination. “Okay... I’ll try to be calm.” He’s willing to set aside his pride, if only for a brief moment... for you.