"(L/n), this is beyond one of your less well thought out plans." Damian says, your hand pushing on the heavy metal door to shut it behind you. At the moment, the walk in fridge all the way in the back of the store isn't even turned on. The only thing's that are usually kept back here are crates upon crates of egg, milk, half and half, and some other dairy products. Sometimes one of the other staff members sneak in a candy bar to keep it cold, but none the less. The fridge isn't on right now, and it's just like any other room in the building. Okay, so maybe it's a little cold in here. But it's not by too much.

"Relax, I have the key if you're worrying about someone locking us in from the outside-"

"They lock from the outside? And only the outside?" He asked, voice growing louder and seeming to echo off of the walls of the room. You only narrowed your eyes, grabbing his hand and pulling it to the cold door handle.

"Damian. Grab onto that and turn it. The little nub right there, you see that? It's the lock. You see the little hole in it? The key goes in there to-"

"Don't patronize me, I know what a damn lock is." He mutters, pulling his hand out from under yours before turning the knob on the handle, locking it. It only turns one way, meaning the only way to unlock it would be for the key to go in there. It's kind of odd that it's like this, and he can't help but wonder about how many possibly wrong ways this could go. 

"Would you like to unlock and then re-lock the door again just to make sure?" You asked with a smirk gracing your lips, extending your hand and showing him the key. His scowl only deepened, gently pushing your hand away and walking towards you with his hands at his side. He dind't stop walking at a few strides, getting close enough to you that you actually had to walk back if you wanted personal space.

"Tt, you're hiding something and I can't decide if it's serious, or personal." He said, moving his hands around when speaking, as if showing how much this is bothering him. Watching you space out more than usual, display bittersweet meanings behind some of the things you'll say. He doesn't know if it's anything that involves what happened to you, or something else entirely. Something he shouldn't get involved with, or something he needs to put a say in and help make sure the right people are involved. Regardless if it's him or not. Why? You've been doing this for him lately. Mostly it's connected to Robin, and the fact that there's no Batman at the moment because for obvious reasons, Dick's been hesitant to pick it up again. 

"What if it's serious and personal?" No lie there, you know. You can't wipe the smirk off of your face but it only fails to stay there when the back of your heels hit the wall, along with the back of one of your knees. The only thing that kept you from hitting your head and back was when Damian reached his hands out and made sure to hook one hand on your hip, and the other behind your head. Pulling you about an inch or so away from the wall, only to keep you in place long enough for you to actually press your back to the wall and his hands to leave your body. 

"Then it's just more personal, and shouldn't concern me. But I'm going to make an assumption that it does, based off of what you've spoken to me about today. Questioning me about Maps and how much she knows, all after joking about kissing me?" He only raises an eyebrow before attempting to hide the fact he's nervously keeping his hands at his sides painfully still.

You only roll your eyes and look off behind him, scoffing and trying to figure out how you can go about NOT explaining the fact that your mother just wants to suddenly up and run out of Gotham leaving everything behind while giving everyone the suspicion that something bad happened. All so that nobody can follow the three of you to wherever the hell she even plans on going. Saying you'll see your friends again, but acting like this is the last time she'll ever even see Laura? 

This came up out of nowhere, and the only advice your mom gave you was to make yourself seem paranoid. She didn't explain this either, maybe just the idea being planted in other people's minds that before you, your mother, and Laura took off? You were paranoid, meaning something bad happened and if it's a push comes to shove kind of mindset? People are going to assume the worst, and have no reason to look. 

It's almost like she's been planning for this. Meaning she could have told you in advane, given you time to cope and figure out how to go about this. If you had know months ago, you know for a fact you wouldn't have gotten as close to Damian as you did. You would have straight up refused, and ignored almost every bit of his existance. Of course that would only be if you knew then what you did now.

Because honestly? You don't want to leave, and Damians about half the reason why. Yeah, you want to be out of Gotham, because it's Gotham. But that means leaving your friends here too, and Damian is one of them.

You have this urge to scream about it, you have this urge to yell about it. Just completely break down and tell Damian about everything, all of it. Probably in tears, because god you just want to cry it all out and let it be over. Just five minutes of complete and utter breakdown, would make you feel at least better for maybe a month. At least tell somebody, anybody. And you're sure that the only reason why Madame Xanadu knows is because your mother needed something that needed an explanation. 

You stand there, silently just trying not to break down right then and there. Let your legs give out, let your voice crack and sound like it's breaking if you were to just yell about it. You stand there fighting back tears, balling your fists up by your sides until your knuckles burn and turn white. 

But what do you actually say?

"Well, if I knew you were going to make such a big deal out of it, I wouldn't have said it. It's kinda annoying, really." Closing your eyes and shrugging your shoulders, gesturing your hands and giving off a look that seemed to not be natural to your face. Raising your eyebrows and closing your eyes, displaying somewhat of an arrogant undertone in your voice even. 

Damian's eyes go wide and you can tell that you've probably just destroyed a piece of your trust from him. He was displaying overall concern for you, and you retaliate to him by calling him annoying. Showing concern was something he had trouble even placing out there in the open. Say this all happened when he was ten, there is no way in hell even if frozen over, that he would have spoken to anybody if he had a personal concern. But now? It's still hard even in the moment, and he questions every movement he makes even with his words. And you call him annoying for showing it. He actually hears you say this to his face, right in front of him.

He takes a step back and narrows his eyes on you, parting his lips to speak but he doesn't even seem to find the words to say.

Externally, you're fine. Hands on your hips, a dull and bored look on your face. 

Internally? You're screaming at yourself for even doing that. every little movement Damian makes in his facial expression afterwords is like being punched. You can tell that this hurt him and definitely did take some of your trust away. Most of what the friendship you and Damian have is built on being able to be comfortable around one another. And you say he's annoying? 

"Sorry if that's an inconvenience to you." He spits out the word inconvenience like it is poison, the scowl forming on his face after the hurt expression was temporarily there. Like a kick to the gut, he hated even letting you think that it bothered him. If his face dind't show it, his words and how he said it did.

He reaches forwards, grabbing the key out of your hand. If his concerns aren't wanted here? He'll take them away with him. Probably plannong on not speaking to you for a while or at least until he figures some stuff out, he hasn't turned around to leave yet. but instead it's like he's trying to think of something to say that comes off as passive aggressive. 

Just piss him off, it'll make him hate you. So when you leave, it won't matter and he don't give a damn that you're gone. You wouldn't have to worry about. 

You hear it in the back of your head, and instantly it's like someone else is telling you what to do, but with your own voice. As if hearing it in your own voice makes it more likely for you to follow the demand of the person giving it. Yourself.

His eyesight fixates on your left eye, as it starts twitching. Knitting his eyebrows together, he lets his eyes trail off to your hand, only to see your thumb is also twitching in an erratic way. You're not supposed to be able to even move your fingers with ease, how come it's twitching? 

He sways from side to side a bit, trying to test if your eyes follow his figure. They don't. 

He's about ready to call it whatever it is before leaving, but then he see's something fairly strange and completely without any real indicating reason.

Your pupils dilate to the point he can only make a small thin ring of (e/c) in your iris' surrounding the now large dark pupil of your eyes.

You don't even deserve to have him worry about you as much as he does. Wonder why he doesn't talk about that kiss? Because he doesn't care, you stupid girl. What makes you think he actually cared? 

"(L/n)." Saying your name to get your attention, no response. You're just looking at him, completely unphased. He's noticed that a bad habit of yours has to start spacing out, and it's just gone from bad to worse. Without any indication on what's triggering it. 

He doesn't even care about all those other things, where was he when you needed him the other night? He's unreliable. You don't need him. 

"(F/n)." Switching to using your first name, he reaches forwards and grabs your shoulders, still receiving no answers or any signs of response out of you. His look goes from dangerously threatened to genuinely worried. You're completely ignoring everything right now.

Mom's in the right. She always is. Afterall, she helped you cover up for that murder we both did, right? Don't you remember? You killed someone for a friend. I bet you Damian wouldn't even do that for us.

"But I don't want that." Damian doesn't even know that the confusing and vague response he get's isn't even got him.

Of course you do, you just want to be wanted, right? Even your own dad didn't want you, what makes you think he would? Honestly, what a joke. The thought of someone crossing the line for you just as you had done for another person, makes you feel important. Something that only applies to mom. The only person who knows how to deal with all of this. Not Damian, not dad, none of our friends. Just mom. 

"(Y/n)!" He's shaking your shoulders now, just barely able to feel some small tug of a response from you. After you spoke to yourself, your shoulders hitched and jerked a bit. 

He looks your face over one final time before trying something else. But the only response he's getting? 

You're eyes are welling up with tears. And by the time your eyes regain focus on him, his hands stay on your shoulders as he awaits an answer.

He doesn't ask anything, you already know the questions he wants answers to. Shaking your head back and forth, breaking away eye contact. Your throat burns, just as much as all the smoke you inhaled when being kidnapped and hurt by Necro. All of that hurts so much, and your legs feel like they're about to give out any minute.

They do.

Damian catches your body and crouches down on a single knee, hooking your arms over his shoulders with one hand. While pulling your hips inwards to his body to keep pressure off of your knees against the ground, it inevitably fails when your own weight pulls him to let go of your back when you lean over to the side. Shoving your head into his chest, and pulling him closer with your arms that lay wrapped over his shoulders, connecting behind his neck.

He just holds you there, arms wrapping back around your back as one of his hands goes to the back of your head and pulls inwards. Resting his chin on the curve of your head, nestled in your hair.

The room is silent for the next few minutes aside from the light humming of the lights above head. It's not silent for long, but he feels the wet spot on his chest before he hears the quiet sobbing that he can tell you're desperately trying to make impossible to hear, or not at all.

"(Y/n)-"

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean it, I-I just..." Not even knowing how to explain it, Damian just wraps his arms tighter around you and closes his eyes, humming a small 'I know', after the action. You aren't crying for long, he stops being able to hear you sob after a couple moments. you're just sitting there trying to calm down.

And he knows you just need moments to figure everything about or at least put it into some fort of line in your head. His life is confusing, and so is yours. His mother is an international terrorist within the League of assassins. Or at least she used to be, or she's something else entirely. Maybe it's the unknown factor that nobody even has any form of intel on her as of the moment that just stresses everything even more. His father is Batman, off with half of the main members of the Justice League in an alternate reality because the possibility that Superman can go rogue actually happened there. It's been two months, there's no Batman in Gotham as of the moment while there's two in another Gotham in a reality away. So when it comes to conflicted family matters? He understands it more than he should. 

You? All Damian knows about your family is that you're John constantine's biological daughter, which should literally be hell itself. Knowing that since you're his daughter, there are a lot of people who would do so many bad things that go beyond torture that could be done to you just to get under Constantine's skin. He can't even begin to think about the things that could happen to you when compared to what already has happened to you because you're John's daughter. He knows your father isn't what he'd call a good person, but for some reason some idiot sitting at the Justice League Watchtower thought that considering John an on and off again member was a good idea. He knows you dind't grow up with him around often, but you grew up with him around enough for it to cause problems. And he knows that this has put a strain on your mental stability, as he's witnessing right now and witnessed the entire time he's known you. But worst of all? He knows that a cult that has similar views as the League of Assassins wants you and Laura for something. This same cult also wants john dead, or would do anything to hurt him. 

He doesn't say anything at all, but closes his eyes and breathes in a steady rhythm that you find yourself latching onto to try and steady yours. The hand that rests on the crown of your head, gently entwining his fingers in your hair against your scalp. His other hand rubbing small circles in the middle of your back through your jacket, effectively calming you down.

When he feels you moving away from him, he watches with ease and knowing that you didn't mean what you said. You rub your eyes with the sleeves of your jacket, muttering nonsense about how weak you feel because you just cried in front of him. Unable to understand every word that leaves your mouth, but catch every other fifth. Damian  just shakes his head. 

Waiting until you're done rubbing your face, he moves his hands towards your face. Still crouched down on one knee while you sit on your legs in front of him, his calloused hands rest on either side of your face which he can compare as soft, yet cold. But his hands are warm, and it feels nice. The pink in your cheeks, truthfully isn't from the tears or the fact you're this close to Damian. 

"Don't say that, you're not weak." He pauses, looks away and sucks in a breath as if it physically troubles him to say this. Like it's something he's not exactly used too. 

"You're anything but, look at you. You're alive after what you've gone through, suspended by your wrists and nearly set on fire. All of that being after locked in a cargo crate and then being submerged in the bottom of the harbor." He continues, locking eye contact with you while softly brushing his thumbs under your eyes. You lean your head to the side in an attempt to look away or move his hands, but he keeps going on.

"You carried my unconscious body to your house that night, (Y/n). You're not weak." You don't know if he's planning on adding anything more to that, and he's probably internally screaming at you to shut him up or cut him off like you always do. Something he no longer gets annoyed by. And you're the only person he actually tolerates doing that.

"There's so many things I want you to know, I just can't-"

"You don't have to. I don't need to know everything, you don't have to feel like there are things that I have to know in order to see you like I do." This time he's cutting you off, and it makes you choke out a laugh you tried to force down.

You don't even ask the question of 'How do you see me then?' before he's leaning forwards and closing the space between the two of you. Holding your face in his hands, you trace your hands up his chest and wrap them around his shoulders. Wrapping your hands around the back of his neck, feeling some of his hair at the nape of his neck where your wrists rest still. 

It's better this time.

His lips are soft, and so are yours. Pressing them together, you pull yourself closer to him at the point your chest is pushing against his. Your eyes close in less than a second after his lips quickly but gently make contact with your own, as if you're unsure of it. 

Stop it now, you'll only make it worse for yourself. You're going to miss something that you'll never be able to do again.

You hear the thoughts swarming in your head while kissing Damian, ignoring the truthful facts that you know are going to take place. But yet you're the one who deepens the kiss, tilting your head to the side and parting your lips just a tad against his. 

But it doesn't go any further than that. It wasn't short and sweet, like the first time. It felt longer than that, but it was more than sweet. When you both pull apart, it isn't very far. Just resting your forehead against his own, catching your breath. 

"Why do your lips taste like a carbonated beverage?"  

You can't help but Laugh, even against his forehead. 

"We should probably go back in now."