Archive of Our Own ^beta

Damian was honestly shocked that Bruce’s plan to infiltrate the FBI actually worked. Damian had spent years running around the globe avoiding the League of Assassins and doing odd jobs for the Justice League. Bruce advised him to allow himself to get caught before it seemed suspicious that he could avoid detection as well as he could. So Damian did and spent the fours years off and on in prison. He didn’t overly want to stay there, but he knew that the arresting agent was too interested in him to leave well enough alone, so Damian spent a few weeks every year inside the prison to avoid suspicion. Neal Caffrey was too valuable of an alias to lose.

At this point, Neal Caffrey was the only person to garner an intrigue from the FBI, which the Justice League desperately wanted an ally in. Neal was quick, smart, and resourceful which made him an interesting criminal, but he was also a charismatic, likable person which appealed to the human side of the FBI. And, most importantly, he was non-violent, which made him a potential asset to the FBI, if the right doors opened up. Drake always joked about how Damian was the least qualified to be on a diplomatic mission from the Justice League and marveled at how Damian could have created such an appealing alias by himself. Grayson had helped Damian create the Neal Caffrey alias, but Damian was never telling Drake that.

When Neal’s sentence was almost up, the Justice League realized that the alias would lose all of its progress if he just walked out of prison, so they, or rather Damian, he didn’t receive any outside help, broke out of prison and allowed himself to be caught again, securing himself a meet with the famous Peter Burke. They made a deal and Neal Caffrey was now a Criminal Consultant with the FBI, while Damian was trying to determine who was trustworthy within the FBI and how much corruption there truly was. A single corrupt agent could cause the entire Justice League to crumble, so each agent needed to be thoroughly vetted.

Peter knew a lot about Neal Caffrey, from his shoe size to what side of the bed he sleeps on, so Damian assumed he knew that Damian, and thus Neal, was a vegetarian. When Damian agreed to the cover, that was something that he was not compromising from his real life; it just wasn’t an option he would have even considered. So when the White Collar Unit went out to eat on one of his first days in the office and invited him, he assumed it was someplace he could eat. It was not. There was not a single thing on the menu that was vegetarian, so he instead forwent the meal. The agents teased him about not eating and jabbed at him if he was watching his figure, to which Damian replied that he wanted to enjoy the company and that he was simply not hungry.

The other agents just shrugged it off and continued their meal. It stuck with Damian, though. Maybe this was their way of hazing the new person in the office, he had thought. They knew everything about him and he didn’t hide the fact that he was vegetarian in prison, nor did he keep that fact out of his medical records. It was all there, he was sure of it, so the agents must just be making a bad joke at his expense. It hurt, but maybe he was just being overly sensitive and this was something that friends did- that it was normal ribbing.

But it didn’t seem like it was. It had been a few months since Neal Caffrey had officially become the Criminal Informant of the White Collar Unit and, in that time, he was invited out to lunch plenty of times. He always declined. After the first incident, Damian began declining and researching where they decided to go. Only one time in a couple dozen invites did the team go somewhere that catered towards vegetarians. He tried not to let his hurt affect his work. After all, he supposed it made sense. Neal Caffrey was not one of these people- he was not an agent- and he was invading their space and taking over their cases, so the agents were ostracizing him and trying to push him out. Damian understood; it was survival of the fittest after all, he had just hoped for better when he took on this role.

Damian had never fit in. When he was with the League of Assassins, they only respected him because he was the heir, never because he was Damian and his vegetarianism was always a point of criticism for him. They didn’t understand his reluctance to eat meat when he was a literal assassin whose job was to end lives. Not eating meat just became synonymous with weakness there.

When he was finally free from them and was living with Father, his vegetarianism was still classed as different and odd. Father and his brothers never outright scorned him for it, but Pennyworth always made meat dishes for the other boys in addition to the meatless options at the table. Damian always felt that he was a burden on Pennyworth for being different and, therefore, a burden on the family. No one ever said anything to dispute that either.

So when he had the opportunity to take on a normal role, he was excited to finally be able to feel included, to feel normal. But it was clear that even here, in this office, he was unwelcome. Damian had hoped that his being cast aside was only a result of his peers feeling threatened by him and his position in the office and that it would be different with Peter, or even Hughes. To them he should be accepted because he was an asset, not threatened by him. But once he started going on stakeouts with Peter, he realized that there must just be something about him that screamed wrong. Peter promised him that he would handle the food on the stakeout, something that Damian didn’t even realize was standard on stakeouts. Stakeouts as vigilantes didn’t grant those privileges, apparently.

Now Damian was sure that Peter knew he was a vegetarian, the man knew everything else about him, so it wasn’t that large of a leap. He thought that Peter cared. There were no barriers between Peter and him, or so Damian thought. When he went on the stakeout he was excited to be able to finally participate in a normal activity among agents. So when Peter pulled out a deviled ham sandwich for himself, he scrunched his nose in disgust. People eating meat was one thing, that right there was an abomination. Peter laughed at his expression and pulled out a different sandwich for Damian. Damian’s heart fluttered for a second, until he opened the package. It was a turkey club.

Damian felt shattered. It turns out that there really must be something wrong with Damian himself, something that other people see that he doesn’t. Even as a normal person he is rejected by those closest to him. He doesn’t understand why. What he does understand is that he is fundamentally unlikable enough, that he is not even afforded the courtesy of being allowed to eat with his peers.

Peter caught onto the silence and asked, “What, don’t you like turkey?”

Damian swallowed thickly before plastering on his conman smile and responded, “I can hardly have an appetite when you’re eating that abomination of a sandwich. I’ll eat mine when the smell disappears.”

He is awarded with a scowl, which, at one point in time would have made him laugh and filled a small ever persistent hole in his chest, but now it just adds to the empty feeling. He has never felt more alone.

After that incident, he became more withdrawn than ever before. And everyone noticed. His smiles became rare and he stopped causing trouble with his antics. He kept his head down, did his work, and left for the day. A couple weeks later Peter invited him to his home to brainstorm a difficult case after work. Damian agreed purely because it was work related. He had no desire to interact with these people longer than was strictly necessary, but he also didn’t want to ruin the Justice League’s chance of creating a link between them and the FBI.

While they were working Damian caught El shooting concerned glances in his direction and more pointed glances over to her husband. It didn’t totally concern him. Elizabeth was a nice person and was probably only concerned out of duty rather than out of actually liking him, and that was ok. It was good to know there were still genuinely good people in this world, especially since Damian grew up surrounded by some of the worst of the worst. After another fifteen minutes of them communicating with their eyes, Peter stood up and stretched.

“Well I think that is as far as we are going to get this evening,” Peter said.

Neal checked his watch. Oh. It was getting late and they probably wanted to eat dinner together. Quickly and quietly, Damian began to shuffle the case work that was spread out into a neat pile, one that would be easy for him to safely carry with him on his trek back to his apartment. Peter cleared his throat and Damian looked up at him; it was a clear call for his attention and Damian didn’t want to further himself even more from his boss by being insubordinate.

“El bought those little chickens for dinner tonight and-” Peter said.

“They are Cornish hens,” El said, giving Peter a look. “And we would like you to stay for dinner.”

Damian’s face heated up with embarrassment and anger. Wasn’t it bad enough that they made fun of him and ostracized him at the office? Now they had to single him out in their own home, somewhere that Damian had felt understood in until recently. Tears started building up in Damian’s eyes, so he ducked his head. He still had his pride and he refused to let something as stupid as a meal destroy that too.

“Neal?” Elizabeth prodded softly.

“No, I’m sorry, I can’t stay.”

“Why not? Peter has said that something has been bothering you at work. Do you want to talk about it?”

Damian locked eyes with Elizabeth with her kind eyes and unending patience. Everyone in his family could benefit from an Elizabeth in their life. His eyes darted to Peter and then back to El, but she caught the movement. She turned to Peter and motioned for him to get out of the living room and to go anywhere else. He chose to get Satchmo on the leash and take him for an early walk.

Once it was just Damian and Elizabeth, the dam broke. Damian was ashamed at himself for crying in front of anyone, but especially in front of someone he admired so much. He tried to muffle his sobs, but it was a hopeless cause when Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him, shushing him gently and rubbing circles on his back. If anything that just made him sob harder. That was something that Grayson used to do when he was a kid.

After some time had passed and he had calmed down, Elizabeth looked at him again and said, “Do you feel ready to talk about it now? You don’t have to, if you aren’t ready, but I think it might make you feel better.”

Damian hiccuped and steadied his breathing. What would it matter if he told Elizabeth? She shouldn’t know that he is a vegetarian unless Peter or one of the guys at the office told her, which he couldn’t gauge if that was likely or not. It was definitely possible. Damian took another calming breath as he tried to weigh the pros and cons in his mind. If Peter got mad at him for telling her then the mission was doomed, but unless Damian started conforming to the agents' eating habits in the office,the mission was doomed anyway. He decided it couldn’t hurt. Plus, it wasn’t like it was a secret. Everyone else knew, he was sure. He finally worked up the courage.

“I’m a vegetarian,” he said.

A small squeak of surprise came out of El’s mouth before she gathered herself. Damian shrunk down waiting for rejection. When that didn’t come, he looked back up at her.

“You’re a vegetarian,” she said, very matter-of-factly. “Ok, I think I have all the ingredients to make ratatouille, we can do that for dinner instead.”

Damian just sat there, shocked.

“What?”

“Oh,” Elizabeth said. “That is unless you didn’t want to stay for dinner...”

“No, no I do,” Damian said quickly before cringing.

He sounded like a dog desperate for approval. El just smiled softly and pulled him into the kitchen. When they were there, El wet a washcloth with cold water and handed it to him telling him to put it on his eyes, that it would help with the swelling and the redness. His cheeks turned pink again as he did as he was told while El pulled the ingredients for ratatouille out of the fridge. She set up two prep stations, as well as all the knives and ingredients needed for the dish. When Damian felt that the swelling around his eyes had gone down an appropriate amount he joined El in cutting the various vegetables into thin slices before layering them in a casserole dish.

While they were chopping, Damian heard Peter return home and set himself up on the couch. He most likely didn’t want to disturb whatever peace that Neal and El had come to. Once they put the dish in the oven, Elizabeth tried to shoo him out into the living room with Peter, but Damian was stubborn and strongly refused. Instead he encouraged her to go and spend some time with her husband, while he cleaned up a bit. When she tried to force the issue, Damian told her that he needed a minute alone. She responded with an ‘Oh, alright’, but made him promise to get her if he needed something. She received a small, genuine small at that. It wasn’t a smile he ever used as Neal Caffrey, but was pure Damian Wayne. She reciprocated before leaving to be with her husband.

Damian took a deep breath and buried himself in cleaning up the kitchen. He was telling El the truth when he told her that he needed a minute. He was completely overwhelmed by her reaction to his diet; not only was she understanding, but she completely changed their meal plans in order to accommodate Neal. She didn’t insist on preparing the hens in addition to the ratatouille, she just accepted that she was making something else tonight. It warmed Damian to the bone and made him feel accepted in a way he had never felt before.

When all the washing up was finished, he joined them in the living room, but didn’t participate in any conversation. Just because Elizabeth didn’t have a problem with him, didn’t mean that Peter didn’t. He still ostracized him along with the rest of the office using his diet as their weapon of choice. And Damian didn’t imagine Peter would take kindly to not having those Cornish hens for dinner; he seemed really excited for them. Guilt and dread pooled in Damian’s stomach as they waited for dinner to finish in the oven.

When the oven dinged, El ran to get it while he and Peter sat down at the table. Peter was trying to catch his eye, but Neal resolutely avoided his gaze. When El put the ratatouille down at the table, Damian saw Peter’s confusion out of the corner of his eye.

“I thought we were having those little chickens?”

“We were,” El said, glancing at Neal. “We were until you forgot to tell me that Neal is vegetarian, so we are having ratatouille instead.”

Peter sputtered and turned to look at Neal. Damian had his face turned down and still wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“You’re a vegetarian?!” Peter finally blurted out.

Damian looked up sharply, studying Peter’s face. He couldn’t detect any trace of dishonestly, which was baffling. Peter knew he was a vegetarian… right?

“Yes,” Neal answered hesitantly.

“What?! How come you never told me that?” Peter said.

“I thought you already knew! It’s not like it’s a secret,” Damian said, slightly affronted.

“How would I know if you didn’t tell me, Neal?” Peter asked.

“Peter, you know my shoe size. Hell, you know where I launder my suits! Plus it’s in my medical file from the prison. Why wouldn’t you know that?” Damian demanded.

It was inconceivable that these last few months were made supremely miserable because his colleagues didn’t know that he was a vegetarian. How did Peter not know, he knew everything! And worse, how did Damian not realize that he didn’t know. He was a Bat! It was his job to know this kind of stuff. God, if Drake ever found out.

Damian watched as Peter bumbled over excuses and El held back at laughing at him. And the void in his chest that had slowly been increasing felt filled. He felt like he was a whole person as the people closest to him squabbled as he was accepted for all of who he was. Or at least all of what they knew. But for now, it was enough.