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thejusticelounge2012-08-06 09:31 am
bossymarmalade) wrote in thejusticelounge2012-08-06 09:31 am
Entry tags:
(infancy)
16 years later:
“Damian Wayne, I said sit.” Lian was done coaxing and pleading, was through trying to be understanding about this particular inhibition. Determination steeled her voice, and she didn’t miss Damian’s small flinch at her tone.
Her husband stood before her, at least a foot taller and the broad span of his shoulders heaving with frustration. They locked eyes, and she at once recognized his attempt to intimidate her with a flint-hard glower that had long since ceased to impress her. “Sit,” she ordered again, unblinking, and the resolve on his face wavered.
His glare melted into a petulant pout, and he lowered himself upon the couch directly behind him.
“Good boy,” Lian said in playful commendation, and she left him to fetch the baby from the bassinet in the corner of the living room. “Here’s hoping that voice is as effective on our son as it is on you.”
Damian looked away as she approached with Grayson in her arms, plucking at a loose thread on the arm of the sofa. “I’ll hurt him,” he protested once more. “He’s too small.”
Lian sat down close to Damian, taking his arm and placing Grayson in the crook of it. Damian drew Grayson to his chest with considerable hesitance, Lian guiding his motions. The baby gurgled up at his father, their mirroring gray eyes studying each other with equal perplexity.
“There, Dami,” Lian said, and she received a slight smile for her encouragement. She nudged his elbow to make certain Gray’s neck was properly supported. “I knew you could do it, sweetheart.” She stood up to get a better look at the two of them together, the two loves of her life sharing the same space and breath and Damian’s face rolling with emotions that no one except herself ever got to see.
“What do you think, Batman?” she prompted after a minute, because if she didn’t joke a little she was going to cry instead. “Does your heir meet your lofty standards? Have I satisfied you at last in completing the task I was enlisted for at the ripe age of eight?”
“Acceptable,” Damian said in his clipped manner, and he caught her eye as they both laughed. He shook his head and looked back down at Gray, stretching with a yawn in his father’s arms. “No, Lian. He’s perfect. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Lian sat back down by them, wrapping her arms around Damian and leaning into his shoulder to peer down at their son. “But you sure do owe me one.”
“An eternal debt,” Damian agreed. He turned his head, pressing a kiss to her temple. “How long must I wait before I can begin training him?”
“How long do you want to go before your son finds out just how hard I can kick his father’s ass?”
Damian grimaced. “I suppose we can settle the semantics later. There are other considerations besides the mission in ensuring he has a full childhood, after all.”
“Yes,” Lian echoed, tears stinging her eyes once more. She squeezed Damian tight and smoothed her fingers against the downy-soft threads of fine hair on Gray’s scalp. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear you say that.”
The baby’s eyelids fluttered as sleep crept upon him, and Damian watched the transition into slumber as if it fascinated him more than anything he’d ever seen. “My brother made sure there was more to my youth than chasing criminals. I promised him I’d do the same for his namesake.”
“Damian Wayne, I said sit.” Lian was done coaxing and pleading, was through trying to be understanding about this particular inhibition. Determination steeled her voice, and she didn’t miss Damian’s small flinch at her tone.
Her husband stood before her, at least a foot taller and the broad span of his shoulders heaving with frustration. They locked eyes, and she at once recognized his attempt to intimidate her with a flint-hard glower that had long since ceased to impress her. “Sit,” she ordered again, unblinking, and the resolve on his face wavered.
His glare melted into a petulant pout, and he lowered himself upon the couch directly behind him.
“Good boy,” Lian said in playful commendation, and she left him to fetch the baby from the bassinet in the corner of the living room. “Here’s hoping that voice is as effective on our son as it is on you.”
Damian looked away as she approached with Grayson in her arms, plucking at a loose thread on the arm of the sofa. “I’ll hurt him,” he protested once more. “He’s too small.”
Lian sat down close to Damian, taking his arm and placing Grayson in the crook of it. Damian drew Grayson to his chest with considerable hesitance, Lian guiding his motions. The baby gurgled up at his father, their mirroring gray eyes studying each other with equal perplexity.
“There, Dami,” Lian said, and she received a slight smile for her encouragement. She nudged his elbow to make certain Gray’s neck was properly supported. “I knew you could do it, sweetheart.” She stood up to get a better look at the two of them together, the two loves of her life sharing the same space and breath and Damian’s face rolling with emotions that no one except herself ever got to see.
“What do you think, Batman?” she prompted after a minute, because if she didn’t joke a little she was going to cry instead. “Does your heir meet your lofty standards? Have I satisfied you at last in completing the task I was enlisted for at the ripe age of eight?”
“Acceptable,” Damian said in his clipped manner, and he caught her eye as they both laughed. He shook his head and looked back down at Gray, stretching with a yawn in his father’s arms. “No, Lian. He’s perfect. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Lian sat back down by them, wrapping her arms around Damian and leaning into his shoulder to peer down at their son. “But you sure do owe me one.”
“An eternal debt,” Damian agreed. He turned his head, pressing a kiss to her temple. “How long must I wait before I can begin training him?”
“How long do you want to go before your son finds out just how hard I can kick his father’s ass?”
Damian grimaced. “I suppose we can settle the semantics later. There are other considerations besides the mission in ensuring he has a full childhood, after all.”
“Yes,” Lian echoed, tears stinging her eyes once more. She squeezed Damian tight and smoothed her fingers against the downy-soft threads of fine hair on Gray’s scalp. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear you say that.”
The baby’s eyelids fluttered as sleep crept upon him, and Damian watched the transition into slumber as if it fascinated him more than anything he’d ever seen. “My brother made sure there was more to my youth than chasing criminals. I promised him I’d do the same for his namesake.”