[Reasons why Damian Wayne is so pathetic. In this essay, I will...

The haze is not even something he's never felt before. Training with his mother was more brutal than this, to be honest, and digging through Gotham yielded similar results.

Without inhibitions, he loses his steely edge, but also his regal maturity. It's hard to make his mouth twist the way he thinks he wants it to twist. Where are his arrogant confidence, and his bull-headed pride?]

I can't relate to others, [he says into the microphone without his own permission. His voice is so weak. He feels... self-conscious? Feeble in constitution.] I'm-- [He looks up, at Papika, but not Dick or Stephanie.] I'm afraid.

[No, he thinks, he wants to say he's fine. He doesn't care about this, or words, or what people think.]

It's my fault if others die. I should be able to stop it, but I'm not strong enough. I won't ever be as great as Father. I've ruined any chance. When my friends die, it's my fault because I didn't try hard enough to protect them.

I'm afraid of... Father's disappointment.

["I don't even deserve cheese," Damian Wayne says dejectedly.]