[ a l i n a ]

"Are you sure about this?" Damian asks me as I cleaned out my entire closet, rummaging through random clothes, placing them in my suitcase.

"Yes." There wasn't anything else to say. I simply had enough. I called Damian a few hours earlier, informing him about my sudden decision.

He was bewildered. A part of me resented myself for not telling him; it felt bad to hide the truth from someone I loved.

"Stop." He murmurs; grabbing my arm. His eyes penetrate through me, trying to grasp an answer out. I don't say anything; zipping my suitcase up. There, it was done. Five bags and three suitcases, it's all I have.

I knew well enough what I was doing; I was running to safety.

For my child.

If I was shallow and stupid enough to face him alone, the baby won't survive any of this. And it's something I'll have to live with for the rest of my days.

As for Damian, he didn't understand. He knew I wanted to fight and try, but he didn't process why I wanted to back away.

I now understand why my parents did it. My mother, sending me to Gotham, because she knew Talia wouldn't dare come and get me while the Batman was still roaming around.

What if she sent me to Gotham High so that I could meet Damian? What if she had a feeling that he'd protect me? My mother could turn out to be my very own matchmaker.

"I hate this." I sighed, dropping the bags to the front door. Damian sat on the bed, arms crossed, watching me as I continued to pack my belongings.

"You have a choice, Alina. You always do." His voice comes out like a soft whisper, begging me to think this thoroughly.

"If the baby doesn't make it, if he ends up like Nathan," my voice breaks; and he strides over to me, pressing me against him.

"Nothing will happen to the baby. I won't let it." He promised; pressing his chin on top of my head.

"What about Michael?"

I break free from his grasp, taking a deep breath. "I want him to have a normal childhood. We should take him along for a few years. Marcus should replace Nathan for a while. Michael is too young anyway."

"I'll let him choose when he's older. The throne isn't going anywhere; anyways." Damian nods at that, crossing his arms. He's doesn't like this anymore than I do.

Talia is dead. There's nothing she can do to hurt us anymore. That doesn't say the same about Darkseid. And the other experimental subject... we need to find him or her, whoever it is, fast.

Christian's death was indeed a mistake. I could have squeezed some information out of him; and yet I chose to act irrationally.

I stopped, catching my breath. Turning towards Damian, I stared at him, his eyes giving me the peace I need.

"I'm sorry." I tell him, my voice breaking.
"Don't ever apologize to me again." He stands up, and after a few steps, I found myself back in his arms again.

That's all I've been doing the past hours. Apologize to him over and over again. For his mother's death; even though he shows no remorse...

It must've hit him hard. Whether he knows it or not. And I was going to make him realize that.

~

[ d a m i a n ]

I sat calmly in the bar; a glass of beer accompanying my last few somber hours.
Perks of being here in Valencia was the fact that people had smaller chances of recognizing me; which I fully enjoyed.

"Gods above, that family is cursed." The bartender comments, her eyes fixed on the small television; as she kept drying her glasses with a cloth.

News of Nathan's death had been the main gossip of the country, hell, the world.

First, Alina's parents. Then, Michael's disappearance. And now, their King?

This all feels like a damn dark comedy show. And the main character is the woman I love. I would do anything to keep her safe from Darkseid's grasp; anything for her and our child.

I never really knew why I fell for her. Didn't need much of an explanation.

Perhaps it was the way she smiled, which was rare, or the way she held her head high despite everything.  I also couldn't put an exact date on the moment I fell in love. One day, I just knew. As simple as that.

"Figures. The night of her Highness's birth, some claimed they saw a shadow descending from the sky." The bartender kept scrubbing the glasses clean, putting them away on the shelf.

I raised my head. A shadow?

"Do you know anyone that has seen it?"

~

Ron Whyte, that's who she said. I kept my hands inside my pockets as I walked down the street; passing through multiple bars and bookshops. He lives in the frail house down the street.

I noticed it from afar; a small and rubbish pile of garbage made to look like a house. There was no fence, no doorbell, no yard. Only a few creaking walls with a mess of a roof covered in tarps.

After three knocks on the door, it slid open, the rough sound of wood against the floor.
And there stood an elder, no older than Alfred, no doubt. A certain shadow of mystery hung over him.

"My name is Damian Wayne. I'm here to ask you something, if it doesn't trouble you." I slid my hands back into my pockets, scanning the man from head to toe.

He wore an old brown vest, covered in stains. Black pants, muddy shoes, and a worn hat covering his thin layer of white hair.

"You must be  asking about the shadow," He mumbled, sliding the door far enough for me to enter. "Come in." 

With a sharp breath, I stepped inside.

_________________________

Dear Gods, I haven't updated in four months. I'm terribly sorry. University and writing my new book has really taken up most of my time. I know that this is no way an apology.

Don't worry though, I am back on track and next chapter will be up soon!

- Soph