* 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝑜𝓇 𝐃𝐈𝐄.

Gotham always had something going on — Damian never knowing for it to be completely silent. It has been rather different since the talk of a serum promising to cure mutants was being spread through the community. He doesn’t know how he feels about it, but what he does know that it wasn’t good. The boy doesn’t approve of it, already able to see how much of a disaster that this could potentially be. There was enough narcotics and other illegal substances being transported through these streets.

His uniform doesn’t blend well with the night, but that’s what his cape could be useful to help conceal himself if needed. The bright colors of his suit one that acts as a warning before his fists meet their face.

Damian goes off on his own, always quick to act off what he felt was best. It would be better to cover more ground that way, and he was never afraid to be outnumbered. The men were three times his size easily, but that didn’t matter. The thugs pull out their weapons, making it more interesting — then something unexpected happens.

“Mother?” Damian hesitates for a moment before he’s dodging the blow from anther of the men. He knocked him out easily, eyes looking over at the other men laying there lifeless. The boy doesn’t blink twice before he shifts his gaze back to her.

“What are you doing here? I’m okay, they didn’t get a chance to aim the gun at me. Does father know you’re here?” His feet stepping closer to her, some softness in his eyes as he looks at her.

* bold is spoken in arabic.

Her little Robin. The softness in his eyes reflects her own, and gently, Talia is reaching out a hand to graze against the sharp line of his jaw. His question has her brow furrowing momentarily. While she wanted to tell herself that she was here on business, to infiltrate her father’s involvement with the Hope serum, it wasn’t entirely true. It was something she’d been admittedly keeping on a back burner until she could fulfill her true purpose for showing up in the city - to see her son. “That’s my boy,” she remarks before dark hues fall over the unconscious bodies that surrounded them. “I’m here to see you, my love. I hope that is alright with you.” 

When Damian is bringing up Bruce, Talia’s shoulders raise in a shrug. “I haven’t announced my presence to your father, no.” She turns on her heel. “But that isn’t saying much. I’d assume he has some sort of code red that sounds off when I step over the city line.” It’s her attempt at keeping the conversation lighthearted, not wanting to build up the boys hopes about her and Bruce. It was something that happened in the past, and although she had a track record of letting her son down, this was something she couldn’t bear to see him get excited about. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but I’d like to see you. I brought you some things.” Hand extends to offer the male a cell phone - nothing fancy, but something they could keep communication on. “And... I wanted you to have this.” She tugs the sheathed dagger from her waistband, holding it out horizontally so that he could see it better. “It was mine when I was your age. I trained with this for years. It was a little worn, but I had it restored to its original beauty. Go on,” Talia then hands it to him. 

Bruce is expecting her after her brief appearance during patrol. She doesn’t always make a point to touch base with him when she drops in on Damian, but given the current chaos of the city, it’s more than possible she’s here on business. Her entrance trips just about every damn alarm in the whole house and he quietly deactivates them all. As she draws closer, he sets the batcomputer at the highest, most restrictive levels of security clearance, and runs one of Tim’s nastiest encryptions on all of his open case files. He has no way of knowing if that’s enough. Though it grants him a home field advantage, he doesn’t like her in the cave.

Her laugh shakes his concentration, makes frustration curl in his gut. As does her hand on the back of his chair, her face too close to his. Her eyes, of which Damian’s are a perfect replica, tell a story⁠— clear, focused, and more herself, not quite so shadowed over with her father’s terrible purpose. “Your concern is touching,” he deadpans, mouth pressed into a grim line. “I don’t think it much matters. Not when whatever you’re about to tell me will undoubtedly derail all of my operations for the foreseeable future.”

He feels a prickle of some emotion at ‘beloved’. The worst thing about it is the honesty in the emotion behind it. That was Talia—she could be screwing him over at astronomical proportions while whispering sweet nothings in his ear, and somehow she’d make it seem like the two weren’t contradictory. “Why are you in my house, Talia?”

Talia expected this exact response to her dropping in, and therefore doesn’t bat an eyelash when he speaks. She shifts to stand before him, a hip resting against the ledge of his desk. “I’ve come to see my son,” she says matter-of-factly, arms lifting to cross over her chest. That was just the half of it. Her father’s possible involvement with the Hope serum was hitting far too close to home for Talia. She’s already aware that Bruce and Damian had been patrolling and looking into the drug, and just the mere possibility of them and her father crossing paths was an immediate tell that she had to get in the middle of it before it became their reality. 

She sat in on a meeting between her father and his constituents, already off-put by his plan to not only ride the wave of the anti-mutant movement going on, but to use the drug for his own bidding - to weed out the weak, and take whoever’s left for himself. There’s a slight clench of her jaw as she breaks the eye contact with her beloved, eyes moving over the screens that illuminated his features. “And to see you.” Still not looking at the male, Talia’s reaching into the pocket of her coat, retrieving a small SD card. She holds it between her index and middle finger, inspecting it in the dim light that engulfed them. Unbeknownst to her father, Talia made a copy of the information he’d been given about the serum’s shipments, where they were being stored, and where they were being sold. 

“I wanted to share with you the fact that my father is looking to get in on this entire Hope serum business.” She scoffs. “And by that, I mean take as much of it for himself as he can, and kill whoever tries to stop him.” She had always had a strong loyalty to her father, but the one thing that would make her go against him is if he threatened the safety of someone she loved. She’s closing her hand to keep the card in her palm, a slight shake of her head to follow. “As perceptive as you are, my beloved, I don’t think you saw that coming.” 

Dark hues inspect the immaculate grand hall, mentally giving kudos to Alfred for the decor and upkeep. She’s sure without him, the swarovski chandeliers that hang would be covered in inches of dust. The thought has a slight smirk forming to her features as she heads down the corridor that’ll lead her to the cave. If her timing is correct, they’d just returned from patrol and Bruce was glued to file after file of information gained from their outing. 

And as she’s greeted with the sight of him illuminated by screens, Talia can only let out a breathy laugh. Approaching him, one of her hands places delicately at the back of his chair, eyeing him from behind it. “Hasn’t Alfred warned you about the dangers of too much screentime?” Her hand grips the seat a little tighter, pivoting the chair just enough so earthen hues can meet his own. “Hello, my beloved.” There’s a spark of familiarity that resonates in the back of Talia’s mind, noting how despite how much time she and Bruce had spent apart, it was almost as though they never missed a beat. “What is on the docket for tonight?” 

Her son isn’t hard to find. As the darkness of night cloaks the already dreary city, flashes of red, yellow and green are stark against Gotham’s usual color palette. One of the men representing the serums manufacturer mentioned a drop of product happening tonight. Talia was sure to get a good seat for the show about to unfold before her. 

Though it’ll prove a little difficult for the assassin when she watches her son break off from Batman’s protection, off fighting a handful of men that attempt to salvage the stock now that bats had rained on their parade. 

“The boy is fine, Talia.” A voice resonates at the back of her mind - and begrudgingly, it’s her father’s - assuring the daughter of the demon that her son would be okay. 

Until he wasn’t. Punches were getting too harsh for her liking, and Talia can feel herself subconsciously nearing the edge of the brick wall she’d been hiding behind. And then there’s a flash of silver metal that is unmistakable. In three quick strides, Talia is rushing to the point of action, a kick dismantling the gunman to place the weapon in her own hands. 

She figured if Robin was here, then Batman wasn’t trailing far behind - the last thing Talia needed to hear was how she shouldn’t have killed Damian’s attackers, that it’s poor vigilantism and parenting. Bullets are fired in the legs of these men, enough to subdue them so that Bruce could continue on with their investigation. Labored breathing is the only thing heard as the ringing from the gunshots wind down, and dark hues are searching for a perfectly matching set. 

“My adored,” she exhales, tucking the pistol into her waistband. “I’m sorry our reunion had to be like this. Are you okay?” 

✕ — isn’t that talia al ghul wandering the streets of new york? civilians know them as leviathan and see them as an anti-hero. as far as i know, the thirty six year old stands with the league of assassins and are rumoured to be pretty manipulative & ruthless. ( aiysha hart / cisfemale / she/her )