Damian had been under a lot of stress since his mother’s death. Bruce was working him harder than ever, and he was getting stressed. He was losing his privileges almost every day. He was barely allowed on patrol anymore. He had to beg to get his privileges to see you back. Even then, it had to be at Wayne Manor.

As you arrived, Damian was on the couch, curled up in a ball, crying. He was shaking and twitching, his hand squeezing at his cape as he fidgeted, your hands making their way to his face, cupping his cheeks