Re: Manor: Bruce & Selina
It certainly didn't feel like Damian had known he was loved. After all, how he have done the things he had if he'd known his family cared about him? Why hasn't he stopped, or better yet, why had he begin at all? Words had fallen upon deaf ears. Nothing Bruce said or did had been enough. Nothing any of them said or did was enough. It was difficult to understand, to reconcile himself with. "It doesn't feel that way," he admitted. "It feels like he thought no one cared. Like he didn't care." When she said she felt guilty too he shook his head, a small thing; he didn't blame her. Damian had no right to make her the source of his problems. In the end, he'd barely even recognized his son, and he felt a tremendous amount of guilt and shame because of that.
She was warm and solid against his back, something steady, and he leaned back further. "How do you know? He might not know." He closed his eyes and sighed. There was no way to be sure, but maybe it didn't matter. If he went home, back to his Gotham, maybe it didn't matter at all. Her fingers drew idle circles against his side and it relaxed him further, made him less likely to respond with hostility. "Another chance," he echoed. "If he did go home, I hope..." He paused. "I hope he doesn't come back." And there was guilt over that, too.
Her fond-annoyed huff almost made him smile. He listened as she spoke, looking down at the puppy, who tried to nestle closer to his ankles, and he thought about the small creature being taken away from his mother. He couldn't help but feel sorry for him, puppy or not. "He was alone. Poor thing."