Chapter Text
It took a long time to walk down to the mid-levels of the compound, where the windows were non-existent & the hallways thin. The further underground you went, Damian knew, the smaller the space to walk. This was to discourage intruders from venturing far enough to discover any secrets.
It did not exactly welcome those who belonged, either. Damian suppressed a shiver as the ceiling got closer to the ground. He took his Akhi’s hand. Just to lead him more carefully through the torch-lit darkness.
Akhi squeezed his hand rather tightly, and Damian glanced up as they walked. Akhi’s strides were steady, but his eyes were dark. He looked at the hallway ahead, at the guards leading them deeper underground, like he looked into empty space after a night terror.
Damian gently tugged on Akhi’s hand. It didn’t seem to help, but little matter. Brighter firelight was appearing up ahead, as well as a curious green glow. Then, lo & behold, Mother appeared at the end of the hallway, whisking towards them in her best green dress.
“Mother,” Damian greeted formally, straightening as she drew near.
“Habibi,” she greeted fondly, and there was something funny in her voice. Something like fear. (That was impossible. Mother was never afraid.) She bent only slightly at the waist, back straight, and brushed out a fold in his robe.
“Mother,” Damian risked to demand, staring searchingly at her beautifully stern face. “Is this fuss because of my sixth birthday?”
“Four, my love,” Mother corrected quietly. “You are turning four.”
Damian blinked a few times. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“It feels much longer.”
“That is because you are growing very fast, Damian.” Mother straightened up, sweeping her critical gaze over Akhi. “Instructor Arif was not too hard on you this morning, I hope?”
“No, Mother,” Damian lied easily, squeezing his protector’s hand. (He was good at lying. Lying was a tool; one that Mother had taught him herself.)
Mother gave Akhi a small smile before turning, clasping her hands at the small of her back, and striding into the cavern beyond.
Damian took a deep breath, released his protector’s hand, and followed. The cavern was a large throne-room lit with glowing green gems in torch brackets. The eerie green glow cast strange shadows on the floor, and on the ornate golden throne, where a tall man with graying hair & beard sat in a regal cloak.
Talia took her place at the man’s right side, and he sat straighter, quirking one arched eyebrow. “Damian.”
Damian stopped in the middle of the room, taking one knee. “Grandfather.”
“My, boy, how fast you’ve grown.” Ra’s gave him a tilted smile. “I hear your studies go well.”
“Yes, Grandfather,” Damian confirmed loudly, trying to ignore the persistent pounding of his own heartbeat. “I excel in all tasks assigned.”
“All but your katas, it seems.”
Damian’s heartbeat fluttered. That tattle-tale scum of--- “I will train twice as hard.”
Grandfather sat back, waving his hand. “Mmm, no matter… Arif is a bumbling fool grasping at straws of authority. Do your level best to follow his instructions; you will grow.”
Damian’s heartbeat slowed. “Yes Sir.”
Grandfather raised his eyebrow again. “You may stand, Damian. Your… servant… Has he no respect for authority?”
Damian stood up, alarmed. “He has not yet learned to kneel, Grandfather; he knows not how.”
“Indeed? Best to show him, then.”
Damian turned towards his Akhi, ignoring the shadows creeping towards them from the edges of the room, and tugged on the bigger boy’s hand. “Haras Malki.”
Jason looked at him, not because of the name, (Damian could not, would not risk using endearments in front of the Demon’s Head,) but because of the hand-tug. His attention was Damian’s.
Damian knelt on the ground, tugging once more. “Kneel… like this.”
Jason blinked at him a few times. Then he bent his creaky knees, his shaking thighs, towards the dirt floor.
Damian placed a small hand against Jason’s chest, steadying him in his descent. Jason’s heartbeat was slow. Low blood-sugar? (They hadn’t eaten. It was time to eat, but here they were…)
Jason planted one knee on the ground, wobbling for a moment until his balance was sure. Damian guided both of Akhi’s hands to rest on one knee, then stood up, facing the throne once more.
Grandfather was watching him with undisguised amusement. “A cripple, then.”
“I’ve pushed him too hard in his training,” Talia spoke quietly, eyes on the wall over Damian’s shoulder. “He is still recovering.”
“It has been two years since this supposed ‘training accident’, Daughter.” Ra’s stood up, sweeping his robe behind him. “You would do well to heed my advice. Boy---”
Damian snapped to attention.
Grandfather lifted his bearded chin, a strange look taking over his face. “Come… Let me look at you.”
Damian took a step forward. So did Jason, rising to his feet.
“Stay,” Ra’s bid the bodyguard.
Jason stepped to Damian’s side, staring blankly. Grandfather’s eyes narrowed.
“Jason,” Damian ordered firmly, banishing the wobble from his voice. He looked up, meeting his brother’s eyes. “Stay. Buqa.”
Jason clasped his hands behind his back, frowning, and stayed.
The Demon’s Head stared at Jason with narrowed eyes. “Fascinating.”
Damian chose not to comment--- He felt he was on a knife’s edge as it was. He walked towards the throne instead, stopping at the bottom of the steps, and watched with growing dread as Grandfather descended.
The dread tripled when the man reached down, squeezing Damian’s shoulder. “Hm. Strong. Still not quite…”
“He is four,” Mother reminded in a fragile tone of voice.
“He is growing,” Ra’s murmured insistently, glowing eyes sweeping over Damian’s small body. “exactly as he should be. You will be ready in due time.”
Damian opened his mouth, speaking before his second thoughts could stop him. “Ready for what?”
Grandfather turned a strange smirk on Mother. “Your mother has not told you your destiny, boy.”
“He is four,” Mother said again, meeting Grandfather’s eyes this time with a cool fire in her gaze. “He will be a ready host when he is of age.”
“He will be ready,” Grandfather shot back, a raspy growl entering his voice. “when I say he is.”
Damian tried to step back, heart pounding, but only succeeded in hardening the Demon’s grip. “You are hurting me, Grandfather.”
The man looked down with raised brows, as if surprised to see Damian still standing at his feet. Then he smirked, let go, and moved towards the right of the room; towards a line of black doorways in the wall. “Walk with me, boy. I’ve something to show you.”
Damian felt himself freeze. He’d never gone this deep underground, and something somewhere was telling him to go no deeper.
Grandfather stopped at a doorway, sighing, and spoke without turning around. “If you do not come, Damian, I will need to give you an escort.”
Damian saw shadows moving in the corner of his vision, closing in. He should move. Follow Grandfather down underground, as ordered. Obey.
Jason stepped in front of Damian, blocking his line of sight on the shadows lining the room, and snarled.
“Boy,” Grandfather demanded sharply, angered now. “control your servant, or he will be controlled for you.”
“Haras Malki,” Mother spoke up, her voice echoing in the vast corners of the room. “I command you to stay. Obey me at once.”
Damian instantly lost track of his surroundings. His protector had leaped into action, drawing his sword as soon as the shadows descended. Agents dropped to the floor left, right & center; Grandfather was shouting something in Arabic, Mother could not be seen, and Akhi---
Akhi moved.
Damian’s vision stopped spinning when the last body hit the floor. Jason stood in front of him, feet planted wide, sword raised at the ready, and panted. A few cuts had been dealt to his arms, but Damian could see no major bloodshed. The shadows on the floor were dead, all of them, and Grandfather was standing at the dark doorways with a horribly blank look on his face.
Damian hadn’t moved a single inch. He sported not a scratch, not a single drop of blood. Not even his hair had been mussed.
No one had so much as breathed on Damian’s head.
“Well,” Grandfather’s voice said, slitheringly slow. “That is interesting.”
“He is not in his right mind,” Mother said stiffly, and there was anger in her words. “We will review the basics of his training.”
“Yes.” Grandfather turned on his heel. “Yes, you will. And if such happens again, Daughter, this project of yours is mine.”
Mother bowed her head as Grandfather vanished into the depths of the darkness below.
Damian stuttered a deep breath, realizing that he’d been holding it until now. He tugged weakly at Jason’s sleeve. “Akhi?”
Jason instantly straightened, planting his sword in one of the bodies nearby--- You never sheathed your sword until it had been cleaned, everyone knew that--- and dropped to one knee. He didn’t move stiffly as he had before. His bloody glove-covered hands were frantic, quick, precise as they squeezed Damian’s head, his ribs, his shoulders.
“I’m alright,” Damian murmured numbly, patting Jason’s face. “I’m alright, Akhi.”
The older boy met his eyes, and Damian suppressed a shiver. There was something dangerous there. Something… wild.
“Come,” Mother told them, cold. “Your punishment awaits.”
************
“You’ve done wonderfully, Jason,” Mother gushed softly, her voice lowered as she closed the curtain over the doorway of Damian’s quarters. “Good.”
Jason puffed his chest up, straightening, and gave Damian the barest hint of a smile.
Damian glanced between them, trying to still his trembling hands. “I… do not understand. What about our punishment?”
Mother paused in the act of opening Jason’s trunk. She met Damian’s eyes for a moment, then stared at his shaking hands.
Drat.
Huffing a sigh, Mother returned to rifling through Jason’s belongings. “Sit in Akhi’s lap, Damian. Listen to his heartbeat.”
Damian forced himself to keep from asking “why”, moving instead to his brother’s side. He gently pushed Jason down onto the edge of a cot--- Jason went willingly, as always--- and climbed up into the older boy’s lap. Jason’s arms went up as soon as Damian was close, hugging him in all-encompassing warmth.
Damian released all tension, unable to pretend any longer, and buried his face in the soft folds of Akhi’s robes. Jason nuzzled his hair, humming softly, and threaded clumsy fingers through his short hair.
No longer an unstoppable force, a whirlwind of bloody fury. This was just… Jason.
Damian turned his head, as Mother had ordered, and pressed it to Ahki’s chest. He could hear the steady heartbeat, faster now that Akhi had been fighting, but not dangerously so. It was… soothing.
Damian’s stuttering breaths leveled out, and his fingers ceased their shaking.
“Good,” Mother murmured softly, though it was unclear to whom she spoke. She bent over, placing a bundle on the cot beside them--- Two different rolls of bandages, a damp cloth, some cleaning solution & a bottle of cream. “This bottle will soothe smaller injuries before helping to heal them, Damian. Use it on your brother’s cuts, hands, and back. It will be replaced when you run out.”
Damian slouched against Jason’s chest, which the older boy took as permission to cuddle him even closer, propping his chin in Damian’s hair.
Mother gave them a rare smile. “Do you know what trigger words are, Damian?”
Damian shook his head. It was hard to move with his body so constricted in Jason’s arms. (Soothing, his instincts told him, even though being trapped should have made him want to fight---) “No Mother.”
“I have trained Jason to protect you with very carefully placed commands.” Mother waved her hand, as if dismissing him. “It is none of your concern. Know only that Jason has performed exactly as I wanted him to.”
Damian watched her, desperate for answers, but scared to ask. “Exactly…?”
“Yes.” Mother met his eyes, but her gaze was far away. “You are not your grandfather’s, Damian, despite what he wishes were true. You are mine.”
“Mine,” Jason repeated stubbornly, twisting his body away from Mother, despite her lack of movement.
Mother’s mouth lifted at the corners. “Yes, and Jason’s. I will do with you as I see fit. The Demon’s Head has a very specific plan for your life, but I have others. Plans not to harm you, but to give you a future. Speak not of what I say--- Know only that you will be safe as long as you are with your brother. Jason will help me bring my plans to pass. Your job is to care for him.”
Damian curled his fingers in Akhi’s robe, closing his eyes. That… sounded nice. Better than the strange look Grandfather had given him in the throne-room.
Mother’s fingers touched his chin. “Do you understand, habibi?”
Damian mustered a nod, trying to straighten. His movement was arrested by Jason’s low growl of “Mine.”
Mother pulled away, chuckling. “You are a little bit shocked, Damian, and your protector is--- territorial, at best. I will have your meals brought to your room. Stay here for the remainder of the day. Rest, take care of Jason. Your evening lessons will resume on schedule.”
Damian cracked his eyes open, attempting once more to move. He needed to bow. “Yes---”
Mother waved her hand again, turning to leave. “Stay. There is a reason you were raised on Akhi’s bosom, my son. You will feel better if you rest there until your meal.”
Damian closed his eyes, all too relieved to obey. He didn’t hear Mother leaving, conscious only of Jason’s satisfied hum.