Chapter Text
Damian finally settled into his growth spurt. He was 14 and a half years old and nearly 6 feet tall already, and his muscles were coming in fast enough to put his oldest brother to shame.
One day, while on patrol, he heard a strange high pitched whining.
He leaned over the edge of the alley and dropped down to investigate. When he landed in the alley, the sound went quiet. He was suspicious that it was a criminal in need of a beat down, but soon the sound started up again, and Damian knew that kind of sound. It was an animal sound, and not just that, a pained one.
He stepped quickly toward the dumpster the sound was echoing from behind, only to be startled by a bright light whizzing away and further down the alley from him. The whining animal sound followed the light, and Damian was sure that if the thing wasn't an animal it was hurting one. A cat maybe?
He had to stop it.
It took him thirteen minutes and thirteen seconds exactly to catch up to the glowing ball of light, only to turn to catch it behind another dumpster and find the poor ball of white fluff engulfed in Lazarus Green flames and screeching loudly as it thrashed into the wall and rolled around in agony. He couldn't take it. He unclipped his cape and threw it over the thing, quickly wrapping it up and picking it up at the same time, as well as gently smothering the flames. It only took a few quick movements to put them out. The little white fluffy creature curled into itself beneath the cape, not trying to escape at all, but trying to hide itself within the cape.
Damian tucked it close to himself, careful not to squeeze, he knew that the burns the cat must have could be dangerously easy to irritate. He didn't risk removing the cover, either, as opening them to air could cause infection.
He resorted to the only thing he could do, he had to comfort the thing, and hope it stayed calm enough to get it to Alfred for proper care.
He didn't trust any normal veterinarian or doctor to take care of it, that's for sure.
Damian gently cradled the thing in one arm and hummed little soft sounds at it, hoping to convey the message that he didn't mean it harm.
The shaking began to calm and Damian was about to release the tension in his shoulders, but suddenly the thing's body seemed to go limp beneath the cover. Damian gasped in filthy alleyway air as his mind raced trying to remember how to give a cat CPR, but then the thing moved again and the feeling of relief when Damian's arm and chest rumbled with the lightest little vibration was enough to almost make him drop to his knees.
Damian sighed, listening to and feeling the weak little pur coming from the little cat wrapped up in his cape.
He tapped his comm to connect it to the cave, and shot up a grapple to the rooftops above.
“Damian, is everything alright?” his father's voice answered from the Batmobile.
“I was not calling for you.” Damian's answer was curt, and he knew he was going to have to answer for it later, but he also knew that his father would not agree with his choice to bring home another animal.
Damian didn't care about that, though. He had to help the kitten that somehow got lit in Lazarus Green flames. Also, it purred just at the sound of his voice, so it had to come home with him.
○○○
Elsewhere, Red Hood was zooming and zipping down his regular crime alley patrol route, when something crashed into his side from literally nowhere! He was sure there wasn't so much as a door in that stretch of back alley that something could have been thrown through.
He finished tumbling just in time to prop himself up onto his elbows and watch as his bike slammed into a dumpster, the front wheel crunched into the rusted side, causing all of the rotting and greasy food debris from inside to pour out over the handlebars and sleek leather seat of the bike.
He clenched his fists and jumped to his feet, ignoring the growing bloodstain on his pant leg and the pain in his ribs. All but seeing green, he turned around, ready to rip the flesh-bag that slammed into his side a new one, when suddenly he didn't feel so angry anymore.
The trembling and stumbling little girl in front of him couldn't have been more than five as she struggled to get back to her feet. Her eyes were glazed over and dripping with tears as she stared ahead. Her face scrunched in pain she refused to cry out to, as the fear washed over her that she wasn't able to make it onto her feet again.
Fuck the bike .
Jason ran over to her, grabbing her up and pulling her close to his chest in one fell swoop. She gasped and tensed up as if she hadn't even known he was there at all.
He cooed and shushed her, whispering calming and reassuring words to her. He told her she was safe now, and how he would protect her, and the girl just trembled and trembled as she curled into a ball in his arms. She never made a noise, but the little pants and silent sobs she kept muffled by her own arms as she allowed him to carry her away were sign enough that she trusted him, at least a little.
○○○
Nightwing wasn't supposed to be in Gotham that night, but with the last call Damian made to the Batcave, he had to make one more stop before returning to Bludhaven.
The alley Damian was last pinged in was eerily quiet, save for the slightest sound of wind. It wasn't the one he called from, but Oracle had assured him that something strange interfered with Damian's tracker as soon as he entered the alley.
Nightwing was just about to tap his comms to ask Oracle for some more details, when he heard it.
A shuffling from behind a nearby dumpster. He jumped into a fighting stance and drew his weapons, creeping over to see if it was some wayward drunk or a lost pet, only to watch as a little boy sneezed his way into existence. He covered his mouth after realizing he'd made a noise, and then, if he could look even more horrified, he did so as he looked at his hands.
Apparently he wasn't supposed to be visible as just then he gasped and shoved himself further into the corner that the dumpster and the wall had made. He trembled fiercely as he looked up at Nightwing, eyes filling with tears and face scrunched up about to release a sob or a wail or something else the kid was barely holding back.
Nightwings shoulders dropped, as did his heart. He lowered his weapons to the ground and hushed at the boy. Raising his hands he spoke as soft and gently as he could.
“Hey, there. I'm not gonna hurt ya. My name's Nightwing. I'm a hero around here, you know.” He tried to inch closer to the boy, but the boy just kept trying to focus on his hands.
He glanced back and forward, at his hands and at Nightwing and Nightwing was sure that he was trying to reactivate his powers. Nightwing didn't like the idea of losing sight of the kid, so he did the only thing he could think to do.
He reached around his belt slowly, counting the pockets until he reached the right one. The clip made a little click that started the boy into focusing on him, he winced but kept his other hand up and open still softly speaking comforts to the boy. He pulled it out and the boy stilled at the narrow white rod and the silvery glint it gave off.
Nightwing recognized the fear in the boy's eyes, it was a fear one only gets when they've experienced something they never wish to again. Nightwing gasped as he drew the connection between what he had and what the boy must have been thinking. Foregoing the slow movements to quickly relieve the kid's stress, Nightwing finished pulling the lollipop out and held it up to his side for the boy to see in full.
The boy's face relaxed suddenly and then his whole body seemed to droop into the corner as his hands began to tremble and his face resumed its scrunched up state. He let out a little hollow laugh as he stared at the lollipop, then the tears were released with a whimper.
Nightwing held his breath as he leaned in close to the boy, but the boy didn't refuse him or pull away when he reached to grab him, so he took that as a sign he wouldn't run. Nightwing tried to ask if he was okay being picked up, but the boy didn't answer, instead he just leaned forward at Nightwing. He caught him and lifted him into his arms right away.
Once he had the kid in his arms, Nightwing noticed the poor state his clothes were in and the worse state his body was in. He could feel the scars along the kids arms as he coaxed him to hold him around the neck, though it wasn't much help as the boy's strength seemed to be leaving him more and more every second.
The trembling never stopped the whole trip back to the nearest safe house. He wasn't sure the kid could go to the cave, but he knew from the reaction to a possible needle and the little pinprick marks on his inner elbows that the boy wouldn't feel safe or comfortable at a hospital. With a possibly kidnapped meta on his hands, Dick thought that the best he could do was patch him up and bring him to Gordon in the morning.
Sure, he could get Babbs to look the kid up, but she was still trying to play mediator for Batman and Robin over the comms.
Dick silenced the comms, tired of listening to them bicker about a cat or whatever. Clearly Damian was fine and Dick was scheduled to leave town half an hour ago anyway, so he was sure it would be fine.
○○○
Red Robin was getting tired of the bickering over the comms. So what if Damian got another damned cat, what worried him was that Red Hood's motorcycle just crashed and there hadn't been a single curse or outburst over the comms about it.
That was concerning information.
Sure, they were all sure, especially at the low speed Oracle reported it was going, that he was fine, he'd crashed the thing going a hundred and eight before, so what was thirty five but a few bruises and scratches. Not to mention that he sometimes does those trick jumps where he lands on thugs at speeds up to fifty five.
All of that may be true, but the fact remained that the man was silent . After letting his bike ram into a wall or a warehouse door or whatever he did, they should at least hear his battle cry over the comms. The man had a knack for showing off how badass he thought he was.
All that to say that Red Robin was now staring down an alleyway at a motorcycle inside a dumpster, the long skid marks said motorcycle made on it's way to the dumpster, and… a puddle of Lazarus Water.
Tim swallowed hard at the painful silence that surrounded him.
Where was Hood?