Bruce shook his head hard, trying to shake away the fog. He wanted so badly to do the right thing and there were few times that fear truly gripped him, but right now he felt as though he'd never been so afraid of anything in his life. Taking a deep breath, he focused, forcing the emotions back down somewhere he could control them, and nodded.
"You're right," he said quietly. "I know you're right. I'm just..." 'angry' was the word he was looking for. He was angry with Talia for doing this - so angry the pain of it felt alive in his chest. At least anger was something familiar; something he could deal with.
"The difference with Cassandra was that she knew what she'd done was wrong," he said. "Somehow, she retained a moral center. Damian doesn't have that, or if he does, it's buried deep down. I'll need to teach him to see things differently, and until I do..." he shook his head. Sighing, he shook his head again, deciding he couldn't dwell on it anymore.
"I just need to work with him. I think he'll follow orders, even if he doesn't like or understand him, but he's a loose canon. You know how I feel about that. It's just going to take time for us to figure things out and he wants so badly to 'help' me, and I don't even know how that's going to happen, what with Tim..." he dropped off. "Damn, Tim. I need to call him."
His cell phone vibrated and glancing at it absently, Bruce only picked it up when he saw who the message was from. Texting back for a moment, he set the phone aside again, leaning back in his chair with a faint smirk.
"It's Stark's birthday," he said, almost in a drawl more familiar to Bruce Wayne, but in his own voice, producing a bizarrely discordant effect. "I invited him to join us. He's bringing cake. What are the chances you've got a bottle of Kryptonian Ale lying around to celebrate auspicious occasions?" A surprise princeling for a son and a birthday? That seemed auspicious enough.