Chapter Text
Connor was no threat.
Damian had come to this conclusion after a couple of days. It had been five days since he had first entered the manor. Five days since his mother introduced him to his father. Damian had met a few of his father’s children already. He challenged the ones who held a threat on Damian’s position in the family, but for some reason that had only decreased his favorability.
Regardless, Damian naturally considered Connor as a potential challenge, but then he noticed a critical detail. Connor, just like Damian, hadn’t been at the manor for long. He was just five years older than him. Fifteen. His presence in the manor had only been for four-weeks max, and he didn’t mingle with the rabble like the rest of them. He prefered to distance himself. He kept away from the family when they were all together, and prefered the confines of his room. He was eerily silent. It didn’t matter what was said to him. He would answer no questions, say no words, and make no noise.
He had no idea about his father’s double-life.
Connor kept to the manor because that was all he knew. He didn’t know about the cave. He didn’t know about their father being batman.
Right.
Their father.
Connor was, in an adopted sense, his brother.
It was strange to instantly gain four new brothers, but Damian could tolerate Connor unlike the rest of them. Connor didn’t unnecessarily bother him. Connor also didn’t threaten his position. He was ignorant.
Damian liked ignorant people. It made things easier.
“What are you doing?”
They both stand outside the manor in the garden. The quiet sound of snipping at hedges originates from Alfred’s distant presence. He was no doubt keeping tabs on both of them. Damian, according to his observation skills of family dynamics, knew that he was a wild card. Connor, on the other hand, needed the extra care. They would have to be careful if they didn’t want Connor finding out about their crime-fighting secret. Damian would allow them this secret only because exposing Connor to it might change his original judgment of him.
Connor leans forward. He had been engrossed with looking at a rose bush that was in bloom. He hadn’t registered Damian’s presence when he had approached.
Damian had watched him examine the flowers. Damian watched him reach out his hand, hovering it over the roses for a second of thought, before grabbing at the thorns.
Damian then snatched his wrist.
He forcibly pulled Connor’s hand back. Connor gives his hand no attention even though blood drips off. Connor had stared up at Damian with dull, lifeless, eyes. His eyes had then trailed down to Damian’s wrist where they stayed in silent examination.
“You are a fool,” Damian decides. His tone is sure. “What did you think would happen? Did you want to get hurt?”
Honestly, Damian didn’t really care. People hurt themselves all the time whether on accident or on purpose. Damian hurt things, too. He killed people, sometimes, or crushed the bats in the cave underneath them.
But he couldn’t have Connor hurt himself. Damian needed him if he was to survive his situation. He could prove to his father that he could get along with even one of his children. It might just increase his favorability. It might change his position in the family.
Damian’s attention sharply switches from his brother’s face to his bleeding hand. He turns the hand in his own, and inspects his older brother’s palm.
“Tt.”
Damian looks back at his brother. Connor’s eyes still do not reach his. They stay on Damian’s wrist in a silent fascination.
“You obviously cannot be trusted with your own well-being,” Damian tells him. He turns - tugging his brother after him - and stomps away from the bushes. “It is for this reason that you shall become my minion. I will protect you from yourself.”
Just like his grandfather. Just like his mother. They 'protected' their minions. As long as they stayed loyal. Damian would show Connor the same treament. He would demonstrate how loyalty would reward him.
“We will locate the first-aid kit,” Damian tells him as they leave the garden entirely.
Connor was his now.
He was not a threat.