ྀིྀི|You're an alien

── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──

Your first mission alone with Damian, and it was already going sideways.

It felt like just yesterday you had arrived on this strange planet, completely oblivious to its customs, its people, and the unspoken rules they all seemed to follow so naturally. Back then, all you had was your power, flames curling to life from the palms of your hands, wild and untamed, yet undeniably yours. That ability had been the very thing that caught the Titans’ attention, the reason you were brought into their world in the first place.

From there, everything moved quickly. Training, missions, late nights in the tower learning how to control your fire instead of letting it control you. You grew stronger, more confident, and before long, you weren’t just keeping up, you were an integral part of the team. You fit in, too. Especially with Starfire, who welcomed you with warmth that made this unfamiliar world feel a little more like home.

Then everything shifted the day Nightwing brought Robin into the tower.

Damian.

In Earth years, you were close in age, but he carried himself like someone far older, sharper, colder, wrapped in layers of discipline and expectation. He wasn’t easy to like. Most of the team found him abrasive, his attitude grating, his words cutting. But you... you saw something different. Beneath the sharp edges and constant scowl, there was something guarded, something almost... lonely.

And somehow, despite the walls he’d built so carefully, you got through.

Maybe it was your persistence. Maybe it was the way you never backed down from his remarks. Or maybe it was something neither of you could quite explain. Whatever it was, Damian had grown fond of you, of your presence, your fire, the way you challenged him without even trying.

So yeah, when this mission came up, just the two of you, he might’ve been a little more eager than he let on.

If only that eagerness hadn’t turned into overconfidence.

Because Damian never messed up.

Except this time... he had.

The faint click of the alarm still echoed in your ears as red lights flooded the warehouse, bathing everything in a harsh, pulsing glow. Footsteps followed almost immediately, heavy, fast, closing in from every direction.

And now, the two of you stood back to back, tension crackling in the air as much as the flames beginning to flicker at your fingertips. Shadows moved between the crates as henchmen poured in, surrounding you in a tightening circle.

“I may have underestimated their security,” Damian muttered under his breath, his voice unusually quiet.

You blinked, caught off guard, not by the situation, but by him.

Was that... an apology?

Before you could dwell on it, he shifted slightly behind you, stance steady, ready.

“Can you handle this?” he asked.