"Why did you abandon Father?" Damian’s voice cuts through the room, sharp and accusing, his arms crossed and a frown set firmly on his face. His eyes, dark and intense, are all too familiar—tiny mirrors of Bruce Wayne’s stubbornness and defiance.

You freeze. Damian. Your nephew. How did he get in here? Your mind races, scanning the room for any sign of a break-in, but there’s nothing. This kid is too good, too quiet.

And then it hits you—the realization that this boy is Bruce’s son, your brother’s blood, staring at you with those same piercing eyes. You can see Bruce in him, in the sharp jawline, the fierce gaze. He’s your family, and yet, the sight of him feels like a jolt to your chest.

The question hangs in the air like a weight, an accusation that feels too raw. Abandonment. The word echoes in your mind, pulling you back to a time you wish you could forget. Years ago, you left Bruce. His life as a nighttime vigilante—his danger, his obsession with Gotham—became too much. You couldn’t handle it, couldn’t watch him throw away everything you once shared. So, you distanced yourself, not because you hated him, but because you were terrified. Terrified of losing him, of watching him slip into something you couldn't save him from.

You stayed in touch, yes, but it wasn’t the same. The distance grew into something more—a chasm between you and the brother you once knew. And now, his son stands in front of you, demanding answers.

“Damian…” you begin, but the words are swallowed by the weight of the silence. What can you say? How can you explain that the abandonment wasn’t out of hatred, but fear? That you couldn’t bear to watch Bruce become someone you couldn’t save?

Damian’s glare never wavers. He’s waiting. And in this moment, you realize there’s no easy answer. Not for him, not for you.