Author's Note: A few important things before you begin reading. First, this is the sequel to "Broken Wings" so if you haven't read that, most of this isn't going to make any sense. Secondly, keep in mind that this takes place ten years after the first story. That means that Damian has been raised for ten years believing he is the son of Talia al'Ghul and Bruce Wayne and will behave accordingly. Finally, this story will have three parts just like the first so don't worry if you feel like I throw you into the middle of everything. Eventually all will be explained. I own nothing.

"Wake up my child," a familiar voice cooed in his ear. He blinked open sleep heavy eyes as his mother leaned over him. A firm grip curled around his shoulder, pulling him upright, and the urgency in her green gaze set his heart to pounding. Footsteps rushed by the bedroom door and his mother tensed. He watched her with narrowing eyes, wondering why she felt frightened inside the safety of their own home. The footsteps faded away yet his mother did not relax.

"Mother?" he questioned but she gently shushed him, pulling him to his feet and guiding him out of the room. Damian woke with a gasp, eyes straining to see anything in the darkness of his bedroom. Below him footsteps thundered about. The boy's head tilted curiously and he slid out of bed. Almost everyone in Wayne Manor kept a nocturnal schedule but normally they were in the so called Batcave now, or patrolling. Father was away on a mission so Grayson had come from Bludhaven to patrol with Drake and the insufferable Stephanie Brown some time after he'd gone upstairs to his room. They shouldn't have been home yet, let alone thundering around downstairs like a herd of wild animals driven mad with sickness. Damian retrieved one of his blades and left the room behind.

Dick Grayson had just spent a long night patrolling and it was only going to get longer. Bruce was dead. Diana had come, still clothed in her Wonder Woman garb, to give them the message. There had been a mission gone wrong and Bruce was dead. Tim was storming around the downstairs, a mixture of disbelieving and depressed. Stephanie was watching him pace, brown eyes wide. "He can't be dead," Tim was currently insisting, hands clenched into trembling fists. "He's too smart for that, right?" Pleading baby blue eyes turned towards Dick.

"I'm sorry," he replied helplessly. Tim's reddened eyes welled with tears.

"What are you doing?" Damian's sharp demand startled Tim, the current Robin whirling around. Damian was standing at the bottom of the stairs, a sword in hand. The sight of him took Dick's breath away. The oldest adopted Wayne hadn't seen the boy who was secretly his clone for ten long years. The boy's mouth was set in a stubborn line, hand holding the sword naturally. He was tiny for a ten year old and Dick was struggling to believe that he'd ever been that small. Most surprising though were his eyes. They were almost the same sharp green as Talia al'Ghul's. Dick's had only ever been blue. Still Bruce had mentioned that the beam which had turned Damian into an infant had also changed him somehow.

"Why do you care?" Tim snapped back, instantly. Damian's lips twisted up into a sneer, chin lifted as if Tim was far, far below him.

"When you go about disturbing my sleep I do," the boy responded. Dick decided in that moment that this very scene could settle the entire argument about nature versus nurture. Damian was very different at ten than Dick remembered being.

"Lay off Damian," Stephanie snapped at the boy who turned his sneer upon her.

Before the brewing argument could turn into an all out brawl Dick said, "Damian." The sound of his name caught the boy's attention and Dick realized the pair of them had yet to actually meet face to face. Green eyes narrowed suspiciously and Tim let out a frustrated huff.

"Dick, this is Damian," the boy said, hand waving jerkily back and forth. "Damian, our oldest brother.

"Tt," the younger boy huffed at Tim before seeming to take Dick's measure.

"What is going on here? I demand to know why my sleep has been disturbed."

"Damian," Dick said gently. "We've just received news that Bruce was killed." For a moment Damian simply stared at the older boy. Then he let out a little laugh.

"It's not a joke Dami," Stephanie said and the boy glared at her.

"Do not call me that," he demanded. Then something in his expression froze as her words sunk in. "What do you mean?"

"How much does he know?" Dick asked his younger brother.

"He's Talia al'Ghul's son," was the sharp reply. "How much do you think he knows?" Dick ignored Tim's rudeness, knowing the boy was still struggling to face the fact that Bruce was dead. Similarly he ignored the fact that Tim truly believed Damian was Talia's son. No one but J'onn J'onnz, Bruce, and Dick knew who Damian really was.

"Bruce went out on a League mission," Dick told his youngest brother. "And was killed on duty." For a moment Damian's expression faltered and Dick saw the ten year old hiding underneath the ice. Then the mask slipped back into place so quickly that Dick almost thought he had been imagining things.

"I'm telling you, Bruce is not dead," Tim insisted, his expression heartbreakingly lost as he turned toward Dick.

"Then you are being foolish Drake," Damian said, voice cold. "Father is dead." Then the boy turned on his heel and made his way up the stairs, presumably heading for his bedroom. Dick watched him go for a moment before trying to calm Tim down. He was beginning to get the sinking feeling that the next few days were going to be exactly like this.

From her position tucked away in the clock tower, Barbara Gordon was fighting away the urge to be sick or cry. She'd long ago been inducted into the Batclan, back when Dick had been running around with his ridiculous crush on her, and she'd heard her friend and sometimes boyfriend's voice shake when he'd informed her of Bruce's death over the com link. Now she was the only one left watching the streets of Gotham, trying to calm down so she could even consider going to sleep. Her fingers tapped nervously over the desktop and her eyes burned with unshed tears as memories of good times patrolling with a cheerful Dick and a mostly silent and ever watchful Bruce tried to overwhelm her.

For a moment all the red head could do was sob silently, crying as she had not since the doctors had confirmed her fears that she would never be able to walk again. After minutes releasing shuddering sobs she gathered her poise and wiped away her tears, replacing her glasses on her nose. If she was this broken up about Bruce's death then Dick would probably be ten times worse but holding it inside for the sake of his younger siblings. He wouldn't talk to her about it either, trying to be the leader for all of them since Bruce was gone. If left unchecked, his feelings would simply burn away everything inside of him until he'd simply break.

Barbara's fingers began their tapping again as she considered their options. They needed Dick. With Bruce dead and Jason too volatile to be of any help the task would go to him to take up the mantle of leader, whether in the form of Batman or Nightwing, and protect the city. Furthermore, Gotham would not simply remain silent to give the Batclan time to grieve. Someone would need to talk to Dick, be there for him so he wouldn't break. The oldest child wouldn't let any of the family do that for him but he had many friends, most of which would drop everything to come if he called them. Not that he would call.

Fingers flying across the keyboard, eyes fixed on the string of code she was typing, Barbara missed the figure in the red hood flying across rooftops towards her clock tower. Instead she was going through the complicated process of contacting Felicity Smoak. Roy Harper and Wally West were two of Dick's oldest friends. The three were brothers in all but blood and adoption papers but while Wally's new duties as the Flash wouldn't allow him to drop everything and come, Roy's might. Barbara knew Roy had split from Oliver again, the pair argued as often as Dick and Bruce had, and become Arsenal. The red head also knew that if anyone could contact him easily and swiftly it would be Felicity Smoak.