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The jazz band loudly played ( too loudly, really ) as Damian scuffled along the busy floor of the Oracle behind his mother. It was a gaudy place of music and debauchery but the boy knew business was business and this was the way of the times. The Oracle was Wayne’s ( he should really start calling him “father” now ) new club on the edge of al Ghul territory. It was daringly close, which infuriated grandfather beyond reason. 

Damian watched the stiff older man as he sauntered through the packed tables and unconsciously straightened his spine to mimic him. His mother looked cold and unimpressed as her dark eyes surveyed the room, but her hand upon his shoulder grew firmer the closer they got to Wayne ( father ) himself, ready to protect Damian at a moment’s notice from unruly patrons. Probably from the men here to negotiate too, if the worst happened. Which was very likely .

Damian, like Wayne himself, had only recently learned the truth about his parentage and both were still coming to grips with the knowledge that the Waynes now had a “true heir.” At least, that’s how grandfather always put it. The boy, however, still felt conflicted as to his role in all of this business. He’d been raised to believe that he was the one to follow in the great Ra’s al Ghul’s footsteps and rule the al Ghul Empire to its greatest heights. He didn’t understand what the Waynes had to offer him, why he wasn’t good enough to take over the Business on his own. Why did he have to have ( a father ) an empire handed to him on a silver platter when he was perfectly capable on his own?

He scowled at the thoughts as the trio maneuvered around Wayne’s small table. The man was not a complete stranger to the boy but this revelation colored every interaction between them in the past with a new harsh light. There was a tension there where before, father ( father? Yes, father ) only had exasperated fondness for the al Ghul heir. Now, he falsely smiled but his eyes were wary when everyone had settled. 

“Bruce, it’s been awhile. And what a lovely new club. Great location.” Grandfather didn’t mean it and everyone knew it, but the jab did what it needed to do, causing the man to drop his grin and get right to business.

“ So I’ve had my men look into it and found-”

“Found that what I say is true, beloved. Damian is your son as much as he is mine. He is a Wayne,” his mother’s sharp voice rang loudly in the silence around the table. There would be no questioning the fact now that both parties had conceded it. 

Damian huffed and shifted in his seat as he side-eyed his imposing father. 

The man clenched his jaw in response. “So where do we go from here? I’ll be wanting shared custody of the boy.”

His grandfather smiled cruelly. “As is your right. I’m sure you’ll wish to train the boy in the ways of the Wayne family business to better prepare him for his eventual succession.”

Damian saw his father’s cold blue eyes tighten as he finally understood why this plot was hatched twelve years ago. 

“I already have an heir.”

“Ah, but, not legally, correct? Are you not still undergoing investigations for his adoption? Although, to adopt a legal adult seems rather nonsensical when you have a perfectly good heir now.” 

He watched as his father bristled at the exposed secret. Not many were supposed to know about father’s legal situation with that Grayson character and Damian was proud to be one of them. It had taken many months of arguing from both himself and mother ( on his behalf ) to convince grandfather to grant him more responsibility. He was the same age as father was when he took control of the Wayne Empire from those who would try to usurp him. This fact was impressed upon the boy his entire childhood ( even when he knew him just as Mr. Wayne ) as if it was an expectation to outdo, which used to give him drive to conquer every obstacle he faced. Damian held great respect for the man who survived and thrived in a city like Gotham at such a tender age, but that respect paled to the unease he felt as fury radiated from the man now.

“Dick is my heir and nothing you do will change that. I am not giving my family legacy over to-”

Talia abruptly stood and dragged Damian up with her. The boy was tense from the venom in the man’s words. He was desperate to hear the end of that sentence. To who? To an al Ghul? To Ra’s al Ghul’s grandson? To Damian, specifically?

“If our son is not to be your sole heir then I don’t see why you should have custody of him at all. Let us know what you ultimately decide. Come, Damian.” She was always ill tempered when something became too drawn out due to absurd dramatics.  

His father’s face flushed with outrage as he jostled the table upon standing, but Talia had already led Damian away with a firm (comforting ) hand around his wrist.

The harsh echoes of arguing continued behind him but all Damian could think about was the cold fury in his father’s eyes. His shoulders sagged from the force of this family struggle as they drove home and one thought continued to cycle through his head like a broken record. 

Am I not good enough to be a Wayne?