Fandom: Batman
Pairing: Bruce Wayne & Male OC, Damian Wayne & Male OC [Platonic]
Rating: Teen
Content: Amnesia, Loss of identity, Blood and gore, Graphic violence, Injuries, Animal abuse, Semi-verbal character
Date originally written: 12th January 2022
Summary: Batman is on edge, and he wants answers.

Omen is lonely, and he wants a friend.

Over the coming weeks, Damian gathered as much information as he could on who or what had been stalking him. Despite his father’s numerous checks and surveillance, Damian re-checked everything regarding his mother and the League of Assassins, and still found nothing.

So he knew that it most likely wasn’t his mother (though he could not cross the possibility out altogether), and he also knew that it likely wasn’t any of the other assassins or his grandfather, either.

But he was still noticing that there was something following him. Or at least, observing him when they got the time. But for what, exactly? Was it one of the rogues, spying on him in order to figure out his strengths and weaknesses? Usually they did so with Batman, not Robin. As much as the information made him seethe, most criminals didn’t seem to take Robin so seriously. Perhaps it was the actions and behaviours of all the previous Robin’s that had fostered this reputation among the criminals of Gotham, but Damian was far more dangerous now than any of the other Robin’s had been at his age. Either that, or the criminals of Gotham were far more stupid than he’d been lead to believe (well...more stupid than he already thought they were).

Either way, it was unlikely that anyone considered him to be the same type of threat that Batman was right now, so if there was someone spying on Robin, it was because they wanted to use Robin to get to Batman.

He’d see to it, then, that things never went that far.

Omen had tried his best, over the many, many days and nights that had passed, to lay low and find enjoyment in the simple things. He would poke his head out into the sun from a building or crevice he had hidden his amorphous body into, listening to the birds and watching them as the flitted from building to building, resting in the trees and calling their songs.

It wasn’t very often that he got to see the sun and the masses of people living in Gotham going about their days. He had always been far too tired to stay awake when the sun came up, and it was far too dangerous to be outside during the day, even if he stayed on a rooftop. The sun made the usually dark cement of the buildings a light grey, a place in which he stuck out like a sore thumb for everyone living in much taller buildings to see.

He’d wanted to see the sun, though. He hadn’t seen it before. At least, he didn’t think he’d seen the sun, before. He certainly hadn’t seen it since he’d woken up from that alleyway, as though he knew he belonged to the shadows- to the night. He knew when it was his time to sleep, and when it was his time to be awake.

But he just couldn’t help himself. He wanted to see the city when it was truly alive, when it was awake and filled to the brim with people rushing to and fro. It was an overwhelming sight, but he found it fascinating.

He still felt frantic, though, in his mind. Like he had nothing to do besides think. There were no actions to take during the day, and not much else to do during the night either, besides observe.

The edges of his mind were starting to fray, and he felt as though he was going to lose himself if he didn’t do something.

He wished, almost, that he had someone to talk to- a friend of some kind. But where could he find a friend, exactly? He knew how likely it would be for a regular citizen of Gotham to want to be anywhere around him, and that likelihood was close to zero. The only people he could think of that had any similarity to him were the vigilantes he had been observing, and he’d already ruled them out as possible candidates to speak to quite a while ago.

There was, of course, the option of approaching one of the criminals of Gotham- one of the people with the brightly coloured suits and strange behaviours who danced around The Scary One like they were playing a game rather than committing a crime.

He wasn’t really sure he wanted to do that, though. Perhaps they wouldn’t be scared of him, and perhaps they would even be happy to talk to him, but something in Omen’s mind told him that they would have ulterior motives for speaking to him. He didn’t want to be used, not that he knew what he would get used for. All he really wanted was a friend.

As the sun started to set, he got up out of his hidey hole and travelled his way across the rooftops, in search of a reason to be. A reason to live.

That night’s patrol had been rather lacklustre, and although Batman had been thankful that not much had been going on lately, it set him on edge. Robin, too, had been voicing his concerns over the cold silence of the city, believing that someone, somewhere, had to be up to something.

It hadn’t been the only thing he’d been voicing, though.

Batman’s guard had been up when his son had told him he believed that he was being watched. He’d checked for signs of any activity regarding the League of Assassins, and had found nothing. Robin’s own surveillance that he had performed behind his back had found nothing, either (and he was glad his son had been taking the initiative to do some research on his own, even if he knew Robin was unlikely to find anything that Batman couldn’t). He’d been keeping Robin close, since then, and had been ending his patrols earlier than usual to ensure Robin’s safety.

He wasn’t going to lose another son.

Robin left his side to perch on top of a gargoyle a few buildings over, but he was still within Batman’s visual range, allowing him to keep an eye on his son. Batman crouched on the ledge of the building he was on and looked down over Gotham, looking for a sign that anything was amiss.

There weren’t any. At least, not yet. So he sat for a while and waited.

Ten minutes went by, and as he was about to order Robin to move on to a new location, his comms crackled, and Robin’s voice came through, whispering.

“Father, I’m being watched again. Behind me.”

Batman’s whipped his head around to look at Robin’s position, and he still sat crouched on the gargoyle, unmoving. He pulled out his binoculars and looked at the buildings behind Robin, trying to see if he could get a visual on who or what had been stalking his son.

He couldn’t see much of anything besides darkness.

Until the darkness opened it’s eyes.

“I have a visual. It’s Omen. Come back to me now. Do not engage.” He ordered, not being able to spare a glance to ensure that his son was doing as he said. The darkness ebbed and flowed, and the white eyes squinted, as though it was figuring out what was going on.

“Nightwing, come to Robin’s location and take him back to the Batcave. I’m going after Omen.”

“Omen? That shadow wolf you and Damian saw? Did it finally decide to make a move?”

Batman tried not to reprimand his eldest about the names rule. He didn’t have time for that right now.

“No, but I believe that’s what’s been stalking Robin this past week. I need to know why, and I don’t have time to spare.”

“Alright, I’m on my way. Tell Damian to stay put.”

“I can quite clearly hear you both through the comms.” Robin said, landing besides him.

“Stay here and wait for Nightwing. Do not even think about following me.”

Robin grumbled, but crouched down and hid himself in the shadows where it was safe.

When Batman finally put his binoculars down, he immediately set off. He couldn’t go in the exact direction of Omen, as that would likely set it off running. This creature, this being, was like them, in a way. It hid itself in the shadows, it observed others, it was sneaky and intelligent. It would see what he was trying to do if he wasn’t careful enough.

And it could fight, too, if it had no choice. Batman hadn’t stopped thinking about the brutal gnashing of teeth and claws that had been the fight between Killer Croc and Omen ever since it had occurred. A being like Omen being able to go head on with one of the stronger rogues in his gallery would be disastrous if Omen’s goals were anything similar to his other rogues. It’s ability to be untraceable, unnoticeable, to escape and flee and disappear off the face of the planet for weeks on end unnerved Batman to his core.

To know that such a dangerous creature had been stalking his son made him want to do things that were reckless and stupid.

He steeled his emotions, and pushed forward in silence.

In retrospect, Omen realised how stupid he had been, to let his guard down like he had.

He had simply been observing the vigilantes, that night. He had been watching the Little One and the Scary One as they watched the city below. Omen found it interesting how much they had in common, despite not having the same goals. They watched the city below to catch criminals in the act, and he did the same, but for fun and curiosity.

He had been watching as the Little One separated himself from the taller Scary One, and found a little perch of their own. They looked almost like a little bird of prey, moving their head this way and that, soaking in the entire sight of the streets below as they searched for prey.

When they eventually left, he had simply believed they had gone to follow the Scary One to another area, and Omen hadn’t had any reason to believe otherwise. They had both disappeared into the shadows, and Omen simply sat there, enjoying the cool breeze of the night as he waited for them to be far, far away before moving.

He’d only realised his mistake when it was already too late.

A shiver ran across Omen’s back, unlike a shiver from the cold, and as he looked behind him, the Scary One was standing behind him, piercing white eyes staring down at his own, forced to look up at the vigilante from his prone position.

“Omen.”

Barely a second went by, and he was bolting across the rooftop.