English = Regular
Arabic = Bold Italics

~~~~~

"Robin, you're grounded from patrol." Batman, Damian's father, stated sternly.

"What?" Damian, aka Robin, seethed 'so I got shot who cares?' he thought bitterly. His siblings that had been on patrol with him, Nightwing and Red Robin, stood off to the side, watching the scene unfold.

"Training as well." The Bat added on. This really got on the boys' nerves.

"What!? Why!?" He shouted, glaring at his father. Red Hood entered the cave just as Damian shouted, and saw how tightly he held his fists shut, if it wasn't for his gloves his hands would be bleeding if they weren't already underneath the fabric.

"You know why!" Batman bellowed, taking off his cowl revealing Bruce Wayne, "You're lucky you didn't die tonight! Don't think I haven't noticed your lack of sleep, currently you're worse than Tim is!" he pointed to Red Robin, "You've been training nonstop, with zero sleep and you either shut down or snap at every little question! You're hurting yourself Damian, and I can't let you continue doing this to yourself! That means No Training, No Patrol, and No Missions until you sort yourself out, and that wound heals!"

"You can't be serious. I'm fine! I've dealt with worse, you know that!" Damian snapped at his father as Bruce walked towards the large computer. The lights that lit up the cave glinted off the earrings the boy had been wearing the past few days catching the attention of his brothers.

"Wait.. Since when were the Demon's ears pierced?" Hood asked, bewildered at seeing the sapphires Damian had on. It was meant to be a silent question, but it echoed around the large cavern underneath Wayne Manor, catching everyone's attention this time. Damian's hands instinctively went up to the earrings Dahlia gave him.

"None of your business, Zombie!!"

"Damian!" Bruce warned glaring at his son, "This is exactly what I'm talking about!" Damian turned to face his dad as Dick, aka Nightwing, held back a fuming Jason, who had taken off his red helmet. "You have two months of no training, and absolutely no patrol, and three months of no missions. Now go back upstairs." The two glared at each other before Damian stormed off.

Once back in the manor he tore off his green domino mask, and tossed it aside along with his cape as he stormed through the halls, slamming his bedroom door shut and locking it for good measure. He locked his windows shut, and closed the blinds before punching the nearest wall, cursing profusely, in Arabic. It was drawing near that time of year again, the day she was kidnapped, the day she died. He couldn't handle it, it wasn't the same, nothing was the same without her.

{Flashback}

~9 Years Ago~

It had been a year since Dahlia was kidnapped, and Damian refused to give up. Her kidnappers had a mole within the league, which allowed them to get past their defenses, and straight to the twins. Said kidnappers had also tried to use Dahlia for ransom, however that never worked, as she suddenly disappeared from their grasp.

When Talia, the twins' mother, found the men, some of them said she escaped, while others said they had already killed her. While Talia tried to continue the search for her daughter herself, she had to return and continue Damian's training. He was worried, fearful even, of what might have happened to his sister and it came out as aggressiveness and anger.

On the same day she was taken, exactly one year later, their grandfather, Ra's Al Ghul, made an announcement to everyone. Standing on a balcony where everyone could see their leader as he spoke out to them.

"It's been a year since my granddaughter, Dahlia Al Ghul, was taken from us. I can confirm to you, that all who were involved have been given what they deserved." Some cheered, hearing that the ones that dared attack them were now dead. "However," Ra's silenced them. Damian, who stood to the left of Ra's, saw the man give him a devilishly amused glance, "I must sadly declare that Dahlia is dead leaving Damian Al Ghul, my grandson, the sole Heir to the Demon's Head." Ra's finished off, putting a hand on Damian's shoulder.

The seven year old boy was frozen stiff, he refused to believe his grandfather, and looked quickly over to his mother who stood to the right of Ra's. The woman didn't acknowledge her son, she didn't even spare him a glance, as she turned around and walked away.

{Flashback Over}

He despised him, he hated the man who declared her dead with such smugness he almost seemed delighted. Hated the man who would hurt his sister. He hated him, despised him, loathed him. Calling that man 'grandfather', was only a formality to keep up appearances. But, oh, how satisfied he was when Deathstroke killed him; his only wish was that he had done it himself.

Calming himself down slightly, he stripped himself of his Robin suit, and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, careful to not pop the stitches on his abdomen where he had been shot by Penguin. He sat on the edge of his bed, contemplating whether or not he should simply go to bed, or sneak out and go to his sister Cassandra's apartment for the night.

Looking at his desk, he saw his sketchbook, and decided to look at what he had drawn over the past few days. Flipping to the most recent drawings, he found simple things such as Alfred the butler, carrying Alfred the cat, Titus and Ace playing with a ball, and finally, his sister. He had apparently drawn three pictures of her without realizing he had been doing so, until Dick pointed it out.

The first was her sharpening her favorite dagger, the same dagger he had been sharpening the other day. The second, was a simple picture of her wearing a flower crown they had made on one of their secret adventures outside of the compound. The last, and final drawing, was a rough sketch portrait, she had her signature smile and her hair was down, which didn't happen often, and around her neck, sat the emerald necklace he had given her.

"Master Damian," a voice called out from the other side of the door, "Master Bruce wishes to see you in the study." Damian, having been snapped away from his thoughts, scowled, placing the open sketchbook on his bed and exiting his room.

"What, father?" He questioned, as he entered the room Bruce was waiting for him in. In the man's hand was a small piece of paper that he seemed to be examining as he motioned Damian to sit in one of the chairs in front of the large, oak, desk he was leaning against.

Once Damian was seated, he spoke, "Who is she?" his eyes never left the paper he was holding.

"Who is who?" Damian questioned, rather confused until Bruce turned the paper over for him to see. It was the picture kept in his wooden box, which he now realized he had accidentally left out on his desk, unlocked. "Where'd you get that? Give it back!" he quickly stood, but Bruce moved it away from his son's reach.

"Who is she?" Bruce repeated the question, surprised to see Damian openly express so much emotion, and over a single picture.

"It's none of your business!" he responded, trying to get the picture back. Noticing the earrings Jason had pointed out, he realized they're the same ones the younger Damian wore in the picture, with a girl of similar age with deep brown hair, and bluebell eyes, contrasting Damian's black hair, and forest green eyes.

"Damian, the two of you were clearly close, and this was taken before I knew about you. So, who is she?"

"It doesn't matter who she is! Now give it back!" Damian was frustrated, Bruce could see that, but he could also see tears beginning to appear in his son's eyes.

"And why is that?" he asked quietly and calmly, as he slowly moved his hand with the picture closer to his son.

"Because she's dead! Dahlia's dead, okay?!!" Damian exclaimed, a few tears escaping, ".. matat 'ukhti alsaghira*.." he whispered the last part so quietly, Bruce almost didn't hear it. Realizing what he said, he took back the picture and ran out the room.

He did not speak to anyone, nor leave his room, unless absolutely necessary for the next week or so, and while Bruce's Arabic was rusty, he still heard what his son had said and began a new investigation. One concerning Damian's long lost sister. 

~~~~~

A/N: Damian's earrings are at the top also if I have this wrong please correct me!

matat 'ukhti alsaghira = my little sister died