Hey guys! I was not expecting that many reviews in such a short period of time (actually I wasn't really expecting any at all) but omg here we are! I cannot thank you guys enough. Seriously. You all are wonderful people. Reviews make my day. Ask and you shall receive! This fic will probably end up being around 5 chapters, and you can expect updates at least every week until it's finished.

Warnings: Language, some gore

This was prompt #3 in my fic "Batman Shorts." If you haven't checked it out yet, please go review and tell me which numbers you would like turned into full length stories! The more popularity there is with a number, the faster it will be written!

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, but the plot is mine.

"Breathe for me, D. Just breathe. That's it." Every time Damian took a breath, he made an awful gurgling sound, an obvious sign of heavily broken ribs. Tonight, Killer Croc might just live up to his name.

Hours Before

It was cold. It was wet. And Damian hated it.

He shivered, feeling miserable. Grayson had planned a stakeout of a possible major drug ring meeting that Robin was currently assigned to. The bust wasn't supposed to happen until later that week, so the planned watch tonight was only to gather information. They didn't have much to go on. Bodies had been appearing all over Gotham with odd skull symbols burned into their chests and deep scratches that resembled claw marks. The coroner had established the cause of death of the victims as drowning, but they had all been found far from large bodies of water. The police force was stumped and their lead detectives had come up empty handed.

Batman had received a strange tip from one of their less-trusted informants, but it was substantial enough to check out. The snitch had said the group had weekly meetings at a mechanic's body shop in one of the dingier parts of Gotham. Investigations of the place turned up nothing, and there was only so much the vigilantes could do without hard evidence. Unfortunately, their informant hadn't said what day or time the meetings were, so Batman and Robin's investigation had ground to a halt until one of the stakeouts could prove fruitful.

Damian pulled his hood further over his head, trying to protect what dry body parts he had left. Of course it had to be freezing and raining the night it was Robin's job to stake out the place. Grayson was busy patrolling other parts of the city, something he wouldn't let Robin do alone. Damian was under strict orders to monitor but not engage, which he thought was utterly ridiculous. He didn't understand why Grayson had never trusted his fighting abilities. He had grown up an assassin, gone through all the necessary Robin training, was more than qualified for the position, and yet was still stuck on the sidelines, observing, in the pouring rain. It was enough to make anyone crazy.

A streetlight flickered on the sidewalk below Robin's position on the roof, showing nothing but wet newspapers and other trash scattered around the street. There was a sudden movement in the darkness and Damian tensed, then relaxed, even more frustrated when he saw that it was only a big rat. There had been nothing but rats and the occasional drunk prostitute for the four straight hours he had been sitting there. As usual, the stakeout would be a complete waste of time, where Robin could have been much more useful elsewhere.

Robin's communicator fizzled to life: "-obin come in."

"It's about damn time," he muttered under his breath. "Receiving," he said into his com.

"Anything yet?"

"Nothing of interest has moved for four hours. I believe we are wasting our time, the informant was obviously wrong about-"

Suddenly there was a loud gunshot that came from the street, followed by a woman screaming. The door to the body shop was thrown open and several people came sprinting out as though their life depended on how fast they ran. One man ducked behind a blue mail collection box for cover but was shot in the head seconds later by a man in a green ski mask that had walked out of the building, grinning evilly.

Batman crackled over the com again. "Robin? What's going on? Was that a gun?"

Damian smirked. Finally, he could prove his skills to Grayson, the stupid fool. Never again would he doubt Robin's abilities. "It seems our information was right all along. Engaging."

"Wait, Robin-" Too late. Damian had switched off his com and jumped off the building, fists raised.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town…

Batman switched off his com angrily and knocked out one of the petty thieves he'd been tying up. "Shit."

He knew Damian was frustrated with his lack of action and that he was itching for a fight. It was a mistake sending him to watch one of the more dangerous drug groups they'd ever dealt with. Looking back, Dick knew he should've just let the kid stop a couple minor robberies and sent him home early for the night. He exhaled and ran his fingers through his hair.

The stress of taking over Bruce's position was slowly taking its toll. As Nightwing in Blüdhaven he had enough of a difficult time functioning; working all day and patrolling all night. As Batman it was different, there was more of a precedent, more expectations. People expected him to be God. When he was Nightwing, Dick had no problems joking around and even getting McDonalds every once in a while in costume, still kicking ass of course. It was hard, but it worked.

Being Batman wasn't working.

Still, he put on a smile and a front for Damian. The kid needed, thrived, on order and consistency, and damn it if it killed him, Dick would give him that.

Batman tapped his com twice as he slowly stood up, wincing internally as he massaged his strained left calf muscle through the thick Kevlar. "Gordon," he growled, Batman's deep voice low in his throat, "Three more at the corner of Bidwell and Church."

"My God, are you even human? Are you trying for a record tonight?"

"No. Batman out." He raised his hand to his ear, about to disconnect his com, when Gordon interrupted.

"Wait a minute, there's a hostage situation at Stevenson Bank. My men are about 10 minutes out, they were in the middle of something, can you-"

"No. Handle it. I have a situation." Batman ended the call forcefully, shaking his head at the incompetence of the GCPD. Dick always tried to give them the benefit of the doubt, but wearing the cowl, he could now understand Bruce's complete lack of patience with everyone except Gordon. It wasn't like the Blüdhaven Police Department was any better, but Dick liked to think that his being there did some good in reducing laziness and corruption.

As cold blooded as he may have seemed to Gordon, Dick was still the same person he'd always been, so he couldn't in good conscience leave the hostage situation the way it was. He was worried about Damian, but knew Robin could hold his own, at least for a few extra minutes.

Batman shot a grapple line at the corner of the nearest building and swung off into the night. First on the list was to put a stop to some unfortunate bank robber.

Then to beat the crap out of whatever idiot criminal had decided to mess with his headstrong little brother.