Damian hardly ever showed softness. His mother and grandfather never allowed him to show weakness, to show emotions or a preference for things or people. Even now, that training was so ingrained in his mind, it was hard to change. But he tried, every day, for you.

You met him when he came to his father when he was ten. As the child of a major businessman in Gotham, you went to the same galas as he did. It didn't take long for him to begrudgingly befriend you, and the two of you quickly became best friends.

Anywhere you went, Damian followed. Anywhere Damian went, you were there with him. You both even now attended the same college, and shared one of the fancy dorm/apartments because of it. Even if that made crime-fighting a bit difficult for Damian, he managed.

The best part of living with you was having you to calm him down. Outwardly, Damian hardly ever looked different. He was always blank, never allowing emotion to show. With you, all of his carefully crafted walls crumbled.

"I hate when my mother visits." He grumbled, curled up on the couch with you. He was holding you like a human teddy bear, with him sitting up on the arm of the couch and your back to his chest. His chin was resting on your head, arms tight around your middle. "She breezes through, supposedly "checks up on me" and then leaves. It would be better if she never showed her face again."

This happened very few times, when Talia would try and speak to Damian. But when it did, Damian was always shaken by the encounter. "Not that she was ever truly a mother. More like a torture I couldn't escape from."

He sighed, squeezing you tighter by accident. "Thank you... for being here."