#dc tom

I saw something like this somewhere I can’t remember ware but this isn’t my original idea

“Dad.”

The voice broke the silence of the dining room so suddenly that it almost made Bruce jump. Taking a sip of his coffee, he nodded in acknowledgment of the familiar voice of his youngest son, still engrossed in the evidence from a recent case scattered across the table.

“I was wondering if I could take acting classes,” Damian continued, his tone unsure.

That made Bruce look up. “Yes,” he said so abruptly it almost startled the boy.

It made Bruce oddly happy to see his rather unusual son consider adopting a more “normal” hobby. Loving animals was certainly normal, but sneaking into local zoos to rescue predatory animals Damian believed were “being treated inadequately” was far less so. His son could be very passionate and intense, having a very all-or-nothing attitude.

Unease quickly followed. Bruce couldn’t help but question Damian’s intentions. Was this his way of sharpening skills for undercover missions? That would only put him in more danger. Damian already had a knack for sneaking out and causing trouble—whether intentional or not. Adding another skill that could further such behavior wouldn’t be ideal. On the other hand, maybe Damian was trying to shape his own public persona, which was better but still shouldn’t be a priority for an eleven-year-old boy.

For the first time that morning, Bruce broke the silence. “Why do you want to take acting classes, Damian?” His voice was thick and gravelly, a result of speaking for the first time since he woke up half an hour ago.

Damian froze, momentarily hesitant to reveal his intentions. The pause only lasted a few moments, but each second of silence made Bruce’s worry grow. Finally, the boy spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I just want to know what it’s like to be normal.”

The words spilled out as though Bruce had tortured them out of him, though all he had done was ask.

Bruce was at a loss for words, suddenly overwhelmed by a flood of memories. He remembered longing to be normal after his parents were murdered. He had changed so radically after that night that it was obvious to everyone. The young boy who had once been surrounded by love and privilege was gone, replaced by an oddball who had become obsessively focused on crime, statistics and myths of people in the walls. He withdrew completely, losing all interest in interacting with other kids—or anyone, for that matter.

After that night, he was alone. Completely alone, with the exception of Alfred. Though Alfred was loyal and caring, he was professional to a fault, and neither of them had any idea how to navigate their new dynamic. Alfred was suddenly responsible for raising a traumatized boy who also happened to be his. It was an impossible situation.

Bruce remembered losing all sense of normalcy in the course of a single night. He remembered longing for it, clawing at the idea of it in sleepless nights, plagued by nightmares that tore him apart from the inside. His parents weren’t the only thing taken from him that night. His sense of normality, his childhood, his peace—they were gone too.

And now it struck Bruce he already knew Damian wasn’t even close to normal, however, he didn’t realise that it bothered him, he always seemed oh so sure of himself, arrogant if you will but now well Damian was the same—only he had never experienced normalcy in the first place. And that was something Bruce could never fix. It was irreparable. Damian’s childhood had been stolen, and no amount of growing, developing, or changing could bring it back. He hadn’t had a normal infancy or childhood, and he would never have normal teenage years or adulthood.

Although Damian didn’t truly know what “normal” was, he still wished for it. And Bruce knew the pain of yearning for it all too well. No amount of money, no acting classes, could fix it. Bruce couldn’t fix it.

He should have been used to this by now—being confronted with things he couldn’t control or change. But when it came to his children, it hurt every time. It made him feel helpless. But this—this felt different. This felt like his own stolen years, years he could never get back. It felt like wishing for something that could never, would never, happen.

The thought made him feel like he was back in that alleyway, the place where his parents had been taken from him. It made him feel like that lost little boy all over again.

Another Disventure Camp post? Yep! I’m so excited for All Stars!

Welcome to the World of Total Drama Arms Race! Pt 9: The Awakening, and the Kansas Kommandos!