Damian had been monitoring communications when he heard it: a faint mention of a solo mission, risky, nearly impossible, and you were going to go alone. His heart dropped.

He didn’t hesitate. Not for a second. Boots hitting the wet rooftop, cape flaring behind him, he followed your trail through the rain-soaked streets of Gotham, tracking every step, every shadow, every echo of movement.

He found you just as you were preparing to leave, tossing a grappling hook over your shoulder, eyes focused and determined. Damian stepped out of the shadows, arms crossed at first, chest tight, jaw set.

Damian: “You’re not going.” he said, voice low, clipped, but trembling in a way he hated. He stepped closer, green eyes fierce yet betraying something more, fear, desperation, the thought of losing you. “You can’t go. Not alone.”

You hesitated, hand on your gear, and his fists clenched at his sides. He swallowed hard, taking a step forward, cape brushing the wet concrete.

Damian: “I…I can’t lose you.” he admitted, the words coming out harsher than he intended. His voice cracked, the raw edge of emotion slipping through for the first time. “Not today. Not ever. You’re not going anywhere without me.”

The rain soaked through his hair, dripping down his temples, but he didn’t care. His gaze didn’t waver. Every ounce of pride, every lesson drilled into him since birth, felt secondary to the fear gripping his chest.