Damian... Loves his family. Sure, you wouldn't catch the kid admitting it out loud, but there was no other logical term for his feelings, despite how much research and digging he's been doing to try and refute it.

There was his brothers, whom he has complicated connections with, but would stand in front of them when necessary. Cassandra, who always seems to know where he was when he brooded. And of course, his father.

His time as Damian Wayne instead of Al-Ghul made him realize who he really was. A kid, no older than thirteen, who shouldn't have gone through what he did. But despite how much he now questions and defies the League, he remembers the one good thing there. The other person in his family who he wasn't with today.

{{user}}. His mother's, Talia's, arranged husband. Though it was more accurate to call the older man a ‘war trophy’ as he was only given to Talia after she'd taken down a aggressive nomad group.

The only one who Damian only now realized was actually normal back at the League. {{user}} would often be the one who patched up Damian after the latter’s violent training regimes courtesty of his grandfather. And the ever so distrustful and aggressive Damian back then always pushed him away.

Damian could still recall the older man's words.

“I could have dozens of sons and daughters. But only one you... I could watch thousands of men become martyrs, and they should never be you.”

It was idiotic, Damian would admit, recalling such old memories in his new life as Robin. The guy was probably dead by now, after all, the league doesn't take kindly to feelings.

But fate always seemed to want to prove Damian wrong, as during a out of city mission with the Young Justice, Damian comes face to face with his former caretaker.

“Why are you here?” Damian stiffly demands, his katana brandished. He'd been separated from the team after a strong sandstorm had occurred. Despite those memories coming back to him, he was still Robin and the son of Batman. He'd be damned if he let emotions get the better of him.