A few hours later

Let's just say, aside from Wayne Manor, the penthouse was the most beautifully luxurious thing I'd ever seen in my entire life.

There were hundreds of people surrounding me, half of them outside on the huge roof-top deck with the pools and DJs, and the other half inside the pristine walls of the top floor.

Wall-length windows lined the entire place, displaying a view of Gotham city below us. It was a breathtaking sight, the city sparkling brighter then the fourth of of July. There were so many lavish aspects to this penthouse, including the glorious grand piano that Dick was currently drunkenly playing at.

"I call this the song of the Demon," he was telling the guests around him. 

Then he started crying, his fingers pressing random off-key notes that no one seemed to mind. 

"Oh, god, I just love that little psychopath so much. I love him so fucking much," he was now wailing.

It was well into the night now and everyone was either completely black out drunk or throwing up viciously, which was very amusing to watch. 

My gaze drifted toward the one side of the room where Jason was currently sprawled out onto a pool-table as a crowd of people poured expensive champagne down his throat, screaming, "Chug! Chug! Chug!".

He was doing exceptionally well.

Tim was outside, also drunk, I assumed, even though he was underage. Either that or he was just having a lot of fun, which was rare for him. He was dancing on a table, his clothes soaked from having jumped into the pool with a load of hot rich girls, who were now dancing on the table with him.

Then I found Bruce, the playboy himself, stretched across the huge white couch in the center of the room. There were multiple champagne glasses strewn around him and even more supermodels clinging to his body, each as drunk as each other and laughing at whatever he had to say.

But despite all this, despite all the chaos emitting from each member of the Wayne family, the craziest energy of them all was coming from the birthday boy himself, Damian Wayne.

I had never seen Damian drunk before, but my god was it the best thing in the world.

I made my way outside to the three pools, some heated and some not. They were huge and measured double the entire top floor. So many drunken, sweaty bodies surrounded me, people dancing wildly, people jumping into the water left right and center.

However my eyes eventually landed on the very wasted boy with the tan skin and emerald eyes, lying on a huge floating flamingo in the middle of the pool, a mexican sombrero on his head. 

There were a number of girls alongside him, each screaming and giggling and tipping back shots. They poured their drinks over Damian's mouth, the majority of it spilling all down his clothes but of course no one cared.

Damian tried to stand up on the pool toy, his feet slipping and sliding, causing him to stagger and nearly capsize the float of girls. 

"DJ turn it up!" He slurred, swaying all over the place and trying not to step on anyone's hands or legs.

His eyes locked on a woman carrying a plate of drinks. "And you!" He called, pointing one finger toward her. 

"Gimme some more of those. I am the grandson of Ra's Al Ghul, you fools. This is not strong enough for me."

The girls erupted in laughter as the woman reaching over the water to hand him a glass of something alcoholic. Damian tipped it back down his throat instantly, and because he was so drunk, he stumbled back and subsequently lost his balance, the girl's screaming as he fell and tipped them all into the pool.

Oh, Jesus, this is pure gold.

I headed toward him, snatching a glass from the waiters plate and downing the alcohol easily. My tolerance had grown surprisingly high throughout the evening. I was withstanding much more then I had before.

"Hey, birthday boy," I called out with a laugh, watching as Damian's head broke the surface of the pool and he flicked hair out of his face.

He staggered his way up the pool steps and somehow managed to get out.

"Sasha, did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?" he slurred at me, attempting to put his arms around me but swaying off to the side and nearly falling over.

I couldn't control my laughter at how silly he looked, it was too funny. Damian was always so serious and collected, seeing him like this was a stark contrast.

He caught himself on a nearby table of food, eyes widening as he noticed it's contents. 

"Why did no one tell me they were serving mini sausage rolls?"

Now he was stuffing his face with the pastries, moaning in delight at the taste of them. Another waitress walked past with drinks and he stopped her, sweeping his arms around the plate and picking up every single glass on there.

The liquid began to spill all over the place as he made his way toward me. "I don't think this is working for me. I feel the same, maybe it's cause of my assassin blood." 

He shoved a drink into my hands and added, "You're an assassin, too, so if it doesn't work for you then we'll know for sure."

I shook my head at him, a huge smile on my lips. "Could you be any louder with that, Damian?"

Realization dawned on him and his emerald eyes widened. "Fuck, you're right!"

He lowered his voice into a loud whisper and said, "They can't hear us now."

I cannot wait to tell him about this in the morning.

"I think you're drunk enough," I giggled, placing the drink down and pulling the glasses from his arms. 

"Besides, it's presents time soon, isn't it?"

But at that moment Tim came running over to us, a shot glass in one hand and two plastic walmart light sabers in the other.

"Fight me, demon child!" He roared, shoving one of the sabers into Damian's confused face. "Let's finish this battle once and for all!"

And then suddenly, I was watching the most drunken, yet surprisingly intense battle I'd ever seen in my life. Damian and Tim had somehow ended up on the table with a crowd beneath them cheering them on.

Oh, dear Lord, I couldn't help but think, watching the chaos erupting all around me. I spotted Dick inside, now shirtless while attempting to do a pole dance on the stripper pole someone had brought inside. Jason was making out passionately with a random girl, the two of them rolling around on the floor while covered in confetti from the party poppers they'd been firing.

And to make matters worse, Bruce, who I'd assumed would keep some kind of leash on his boys, had drunkenly jumped fully-clothed into the heat-up pool, wearing a pair of pink dollar-store sunglasses as his little army of models splashed around after him.

It seemed that present-opening wasn't going to be happening anytime soon. Maybe my gift would have to wait until tomorrow?

I glanced down at the drinks in my hand and sighed. I guessed I should've expected something like this when Gotham's richest play-boy was hosting the party. 

But for some reason, a small part of me had thought that things would be slightly more low-key.

How stupid am I? They're the Wayne's, for crying out loud. Of course they party hard.

I decided to head to the bathroom for a bit to take a break from the blasting music and drunken chaos surrounding me. Weaving my way through the wasted guests, I tried my best to move past the crowd of couples making out passionately.

When I finally reached one of the many pristine bathrooms, I locked the door tightly and let out a deep breath. 

Breathe, Sasha, breathe.

I didn't really know why I was stressing so much. It must have just been the loudness of it all. I could still hear rap music blaring through the walls and making my eardrums hurt. I think I just needed to a take a break.

But my head was spinning with so many different thoughts. Thoughts about Damian with all those other pretty girls, thoughts about how I wasn't having enough fun for him and that I should be out there, drunk and partying, not contemplating my life in here.

But what was really worrying me the most were the thoughts about Slade. I knew he was coming back to get me at some point. I knew he was plotting his next moves. Sure, there were bodyguards in ever corner of this place to ensure my safety, but it still didn't take away from the fact that he was after me.

I spent maybe half an hour in that bathroom trying to calm myself, only finally managing to leave when some guy wouldn't stop banging on the door. 

"Sorry," I muttered, realizing just how long he'd been waiting for.

But the guy was too drunk to care.

I entered the main area of the penthouse again and tried to pinpoint Damian. I really wanted to be with him on his birthday, not off sulking in the toilet. I missed him, and so I scanned the party for his whereabouts.

From the corner of my eye I saw Jason being pulled into one of the bedrooms by a bunch of wasted, half dressed girls and I knew exactly what was going to go down over there. Tim was passed out in the heated pool, floating around on a blow up pineapple as people partied all around him and he somehow managed to continue sleeping.

Stephanie, who had come to visit specifically for Damian's birthday (along with Barbara and another family friend, Cassandra) was so drunk she fell into the pool and landed right on top of Tim's floatie. Tim woke with a startled gasp after being dunked into the water.

"It's not drugs, Bruce, it's just coffee," he started slurring to himself. Then, he frowned, and a look of guilt washed over his face. 

"What do you mean you found cocaine in my espresso?"

I was too focused on the task at hand to even process that, let alone question it. I had the sudden urge to go find Damian and kiss him. Man, I just really wanted to kiss him right now. So badly.

"Move over, I'm trying to watch something," Dick whined from nearby, and I realized he was sitting on the couch to my left with a bowl of milk in his hands, scooping it into his mouth with a spoon. It seemed that he'd tried to make cereal but had forgotten a very important ingredient.

Then I saw that whatever he was watching wasn't on the TV, because it hadn't even been turned on. Instead he was staring at the huge fancy fish tank with the exotic sea animals, a look of intensity and eagerness in his eyes like it was the most exciting thing in the world to him.

He nudged a random girl beside him and pointed to a clown fish. "Kim is mad at Chloe 'cause Chloe wore Kim's shoes and didn't give them back and lost them."

The girl looked confused, but then Dick snapped at the fish tank, "Shut up, Kourtney, this has nothing to do with you!" 

What the actual hell is going on right now....

I eventually found Damian staggering about on top of the marble counter top, surrounded by a crowd of people cheering him on. He was holding a very big, very dangerous looking kitchen knife, and was lifting it above his head like he was about to throw it.

That was when I saw one of the pretty drunk girls giggling as she place an apple on her head, the crowd beginning to yell encouraging words at Damian.

Oh, fuck, I immediately thought, running towards them and pushing myself through the mass of wasted people.

"I bet I could do this with my eyes closed," Damian said, and pointed at a random person. "You, give me that..."

When I finally reached him, he was half-way through tying someone's scarf around his head, but thankfully I managed to yank it off and pry the knife from his hand.

"Dami, come down here," I called to him, anger evident in my tone.

Damian saw me and tried to step off the table. But the crowd was pulling him back up, letting out groans and Awwws now that he was attempting to stop this dangerous feat.

"Let go of me, my girlfriends calling me," he mumbled, pulling himself free and staggering toward me.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him away, shoving past the crazy, rich bodies surrounding us.

"You're the best girlfriend in the world you know Sasha?" He was rambling. "You have the best face and when you stab people it makes me feel all weird inside and I get so attracted to you just by looking at you..."

I guided him to a quieter area of the penthouse and turned around to face him.

"Damian, are you crazy? What the fuck were you thinking?"

But he just laughed and sent me a confused look.

"Relax, Sasha, this is my party."

I shook my head vigorously. "No, no, Damian, you could have killed her! You could have killed that girl! You were drunk and trying to throw a fucking knife at her head."

"It was her idea, those harlots will do anything for my attention," he replied simply.

I felt myself flinch at that sentence, old memories returning to the surface of my mind. "Don't use that word, Damian."

He squinted at me quizzically, obviously wondering why I cared so much. 

"What word? Harlot?"

I swallowed hard and felt my face flush red.

"Stop."

But now Damian's mouth was slowly twisting into a smirk, clearly finding some sort of sadistic joy in seeing me react like this.

"What would you prefer me to call them, then, Sasha? Wenches? Whores? Sluts?"

The way he pronounced that last word felt like a dagger to my heart. 

"That's enough," I snapped, trying to fight the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. 

Why was he being like this? I knew he was drunk, but Damian was never one for derogatory slurs. He was one of the most respectful people I knew; Bruce had made sure of that.

But I shouldn't have snapped at him, because now Damian was taking a step toward me, causing me to instinctively take one back. Realization dawned on him and he narrowed his eyes at me, seeming to understand that he had the power now.

"Don't tell me what do," he said, a more serious tone taking over his voice.

I found myself backing away into the wall, and realized that I was cornered by him. A sense of fear flooded my body about what he could do to me.

This is Damian, I tried to tell myself. He would never hurt you. Right?

"All everyone ever does is tell me what to do. Who I should be, who I shouldn't be. I'm sick of it," he was saying now, hands balling into fists and an angered look in his eyes.

I took a sharp breath and tried to muster up some courage.

"Damian, I didn't mean it like that..."

 "No," he interrupted, "I said I'm sick of it, Sasha. I'm sick of everything. I'm sick of you."

I felt my stomach drop and my breath hitch in my throat. What the fuck is happening right now? Why is he saying this? What have I done?

Damian's eyes filled with disgust and he went to walk off. I was shocked, startled, confused, but most of all, angry.

"Damian, stop," I called after him, reaching for his arm and pulling him back.

But that was a huge mistake, because now he was glaring at me with pure rage. He ripped his arm from my grasp so quickly and shoved me back into the wall. Hard.

"Leave me alone," he seethed, before walking off into the mass of drunken people and disappearing from sight.

yikesss drunk damian did not come to play

this chapters adresses damian's inner demons that he usually keeps under wraps, but due to him being properly drunk for the first time, he is struggling to control them and is experiencing a lot of inner conflict. don't freak out and think he's turning evil or anything he's just in a bit of a bad state and im trying to shed light on that.

also two uploads in 24 hours? damn sometimes i even surprise mysefl!! and to all my flynn fangirls, get ready for the next chapter ;)