The silence was overwhelming. Bruce wasn't sure why the conversation had taken this turn, but here they were. Talking about the one moment of his life that he really didn't want to talk about.

"To clarify," he said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, "I simply meant I would've chosen differently, given the chance." His stomach lurched. "Listen, I'm not saying I'm not glad to have Damian. I care for my son. The circumstances were just—"

Just what? What could he even say? Nevertheless, that had been then, and this was now. Now Damian was here, and Bruce loved his son. That was what he wanted to focus on.

"It wasn't...ideal. That's all. And it's in the past. It's over, and it doesn't..."

His words trailed off. It would've been disingenuous for him, of all people, still reeling from the trauma of his parents' deaths, to imply that the past didn't affect him. But this was different. He didn't want to dwell on it. Didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to let it dictate his life.

Bruce looked away, his lips set in a thin line. "Look, it's just...not important."