Authors Note - This is a crazy experimental story that I'm writing as basically a full novel for FanFiction. So if the characters seem OOC at the moment, don't worry, they will eventually grow into the characters you know and love. There is also a minor historical discrepancy, in that the American accent wasn't actually all that distinct from the English accent back in the 1900's, but it was there - just not as prominently different as it is now. Still, it was a very important notion to me in the story that they be four American children in Victorian Era London. Don't forget to review!

Disclaimer : I think it's evident I don't own any of these characters as it is being posted on fanfiction. So don't sue me, mmkay?

Things to note : Coppers are policemen (for all of you who aren't from the UK xD), weasels are rich folks and fop/stooge are pet names for someone you're about to pick-pocket.

Warnings : Bad language, violence and the threat of violence.

Chapter I - Catch-22

Damian Wayne was going to pick someone's pocket today.

That weren't a new thing - the lads had picked at least a hundred pockets before this. But today, Damian felt on edge about it. Like something was about to go wrong.

"Dapper accent you got there, lads," Reggie said to them, his freckles accentuating his cheeks. "Where did you say you boys were from?"

Damian was snapped from his thoughts and he looked at Reggie, then he tutted and looked back at the street. "America, Reggie."."

Tim smirked and studied the street below. "We were supposed to tell him something different this time, Damian."

"Not that we're from India, Tim," Damian said, his eyes still scanning the street for a target. "We're not telling him that."

Dick stood over the roof edge, easily the tallest of the bunch, and smiled that charming smile. A layer of sweat beaded off his murky brow. "He's gonna forget what we said anyway."

"Then let him forget," Damian said, "but we won't be bad people to him."

Jason shook his head, his taller frame towering over Damian's own from next to him. "Proper kill joy you are, lass."

Damian growled and whipped his body towards Jason. "Well at least I'm not a wannabe weasel like you."

Jason grabbed Damian's hat and tugged it further down on his face. "Steady on lass, don't start what you can't finish."

Damian shoved his hat back up and swiped at the empty space Jason was supposed to be in.

"Oi, knock it off," Dick said and his eyes darted to Damian's.

Damian clenched his teeth and his finger went accusingly towards Jason. "What? He started it!"

"I know he started it," Dick said, "don't encourage him. We've got work to do."

Damian grumbled and his eyes went back down towards the street.

"Where them coppers at, Reggie?" Dick said.

"I'm seeing at least two over in that there corner," Reggie said, pointing over to the left of the street. "Say those are dapper accents you lads have got."

"What? Really? Dapper accents?" Tim said with a smirk.

"Have I said this before?" Reggie asked, his freckled cheeks going red with embarrassment. "Ah sorry lads. I got this memory problem what happens where sometimes I forget finicky facts like that … but it comes back like a minute or so later. It came about when I was - "

"Kicked by a horse?" Jason asked.

Reggie chuckled. "I told you this before?"

Damian had heard this story at least a thousand times before. His eyes went to Jason. "Who's your target?"

The dark circles under Jason's eyes made him look haunting. "I'm gonna take the one in white."

Damian frowned. "I was gonna take that one."

"Well pick another one, lass," Jason said.

Damian scowled, scanning the streets, his brows furrowing. "Errrm … I'll take the one in the waistcoat, the one without the hat."

Jason nodded.

He always picked a target far away from Jason – cause Jason would give him a right earache if they ever bumped each other on the street. They needed to keep apart so they couldn't all be caught should the coppers crack down. And in these busy areas, coppers were on the constant lookout for pick-pockets.

"Alright, let's do this," Dick said, "Reggie, keep lookout. Don't forget where you are this time, yeah?"

"Don't worry lads," Reggie said, "I got eyes like an eagle."

That were true. Reggie had the best pair of eyes Damian'd ever seen. He could spot coppers a mile away.

"Alright," Dick said, "meet back here in ten minutes, in and out yeah? Coppers'll probably arrest us on sight in this area."

Damian nodded again. Even if they were seen in these richer ends, they'd raise some eyebrows from the coppers.

Dick rolled his shoulders. "Let's go."

All the brothers nodded. "Aye aye."

In one fluid movement, all four of the boys leapt off the building; beginning a descent all the way down to the bottom of the building. They moved in unison; years of practice at the circus making this easy; using the building as a support to leap and trot their way to the bottom. As soon as they reached the bottom, they immediately split from each other and concealed themselves in the crowd.

Damian split right and hid off of a street corner. He looked up at Reggie.

Reggie signalled that there were two coppers on the right hand side. All the while he was signalling to the others where the cops were and which directions they were going in.

Damian took a deep breath and shook off his hands. Then he made his way into the crowd and bumped past the taller people.

The crowd was a mess of shouts and murmured conversations, and cotton suits and pocket watches. The women wore dresses that covered their whole bodies and walked alongside rich suitors. Laughs and jeers and the trotting of horses echoed throughout the street. And the smells of bread and sweet cakes wafted around.

Damian tutted. These were the rich folk; feeding off the hard labour of the poor and weak without giving them any returns. They didn't care about Damian – they probably didn't even see him. He was just of too little worth to these people to care. They wouldn't ever share their bread with him. But joke was on them, because Damian stole their bread a lot, and it was fucking delicious.

The fop Damian had picked was dressed in a good-quality suit; with a silver pocket watch sticking off the side and a slicked back blonde hairstyle.

Damian's pulse quickened. He slithered through the crowd and made his way towards his target. He looked to Reggie to be sure there weren't any coppers about.

Reggie was still only making the hand signals for two coppers far to the right of Damian.

Damian rubbed at sweaty palms. That were still a bit too close for comfort for him, but he started forwards again anyway. He'd done this a thousand times before, he could pull this off again right now.

The fop was walking ahead and talking about something regarding factories to his lady friend.

Damian tugged his hat even further down and stalked to a spot ahead of his target. He breathed out slowly and waited for the fop to get close enough.

The man moved in closer to Damian.

Damian's adrenaline surged and he slunk towards the blonde man. He kept his eyes lowered and snaked past him, slotting his fingers into the man's pocket with a dexterity that came from years of practice.

Nothing was in there.

Damian cursed and tutted. He scowled and shook his head, then he paced right on past the fop. He would need to get something before he went back to his gang.

He'd need to make another pass. None of the other weasels in this place would have anything good on them. Sure, they acted like they would, but Damian had an eye for picking out the people who had the real money. The target he had picked was the only one that had something good on him - guaranteed. He just really needed to make sure he weren't caught in these districts, and that would be a little bit harder now.

He moved back around the man and paced directly past him and out into the front.

The fop was at a good distance away now.

Damian licked at dry lips and began walking through the crowd and towards the stooge again. This time he were hoping to try the man's other pocket. He reckoned his small form meant that he would be able to slip through the two of them unnoticed.

The stooge was in touching distance of Damian now.

Damian's heart was pumping steadily and he took a breath to calm his fingers. He smoothed his fingers into the man's coat pocket and reached for something. There was something in there …

The target jerked with a laugh and Damian's hand was once again disconnected from his prize.

Damian slapped his leg and tutted hard. No. He shook his head and started walking back to the fop. It was never normally this hard for Damian to take from his targets. He was getting flustered. But he needed one more pass … just one more pass. He would get it this time. He was really bloody aware that the more times he did this on the same man, the riskier it got. But he didn't really have a choice. The five lads would eat today.

He paced back towards a place further in front of the fop and shoved past two weasels with a tut.

The target carried on walking forwards and laughing with his lady friend.

Damian rubbed trembling fingers onto his thighs. It didn't look like his target knew what Damian was trying to do. This should be a breeze … c'mon … just one more time. Please just one more bloody time.

The blonde man was seconds away from him.

He walked past the fop and slipped his fingers into the other man's pocket.

There was something there.

Damian's eyes went wide. If that were as much money as Damian thought it were …

It felt like a gigantic wad of guineas.

Damian was almost drooling. That would be enough to feed all of the lads for the rest of the year.

It had to be a roll of pound notes.

He couldn't even believe his luck! Forget eating one day, they could eat the whole decade off of this! Quick as silver, he took the wad from the man's pocket.

The man's lanky fingers seized Damian's arm.

A bolt of adrenaline shot through Damian and his pulse seized up. His eyes shot to his target's own.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" The man asked.

Damian's face was pale and he shook his head. All the nerves in his body had seized up and he swallowed. Shit shit shit. "N – nothing, sir …"

"Are you – are you trying to steal from me, boy?"

Damian's eyes were wide. "No – no sir, I'm not …"

The man clapped the back of his hand into Damian's face.

Sharp pain slit through Damian's cheek and then broke into a dull hum in his ears. He crashed onto the floor and then immediately sprang back up to his feet. He weren't gonna die here. Not today. He had fucked up but he weren't gonna get caught. He weren't gonna get caught he could get away. He began sprinting towards the buildings on the far side. He weren't gonna die here.

"GET THAT BOY!" the blonde man shouted.

Panic flooded Damian's mind and sweat built on his forehead. He weren't gonna die here! He sprinted towards the buildings. How could he have fucked this up so bad?

The mob of people scrambled to block off Damian as he made his way towards sweet safety. Their arms lashed out to ram back his forward momentum.

Damian's heart was hammering and he leapt back. He focused his eyes and then he sprinted directly towards them.

They were ready for him and reached out their arms towards him.

A bolt of adrenaline shot through him and he dextrously slid under the men in front of him.

They tried to grasp him but grasped at nothing but the air. "How'd he do that?" one of them said.

Damian's heart hammered in his chest and he focused on the building in front of him and sprinted towards it. That was safety. If he could get there, he'd be able to get away from them all. That's all he needed to get to C'MON.

The copper from earlier lurched up from Damian's side and grabbed him by the scruff of his collar.

His breath hitched in his throat and he instinctively grabbed the copper's arm. No! He couldn't be bloody caught! He weren't getting the bastard noose today. His eyes were wide and he bashed his hands down on the copper's own.

The copper broke away from Damian's scruff and clutched his hand.

That were his chance. Damian immediately ducked past him and ripped away from the hands of other weasels like a ghost.

The copper grabbed at the air where Damian should have been and made sounds of frustration behind him.

Damian's pulse thrummed in his throat and he sprinted his way to the building and latched on with everything he had. He just needed to bloody climb up. Just climb up.

A hand grabbed his scruff again and ripped him down off the building.

Damian's eyes were tearing and he clutched onto the hand with a mewl. Shit! Shit! Shit! NO!

He was being dragged backwards by his scruff.

Panic had made it's way deep into Damian's mind and he dug his feet into the floor.

The copper was stronger though and ripped Damian from his place and away from the building.

Damian weren't gonna die here. He was definitely faster, he knew that much. He instinctively somersaulted upwards and on his feet.

The copper standing next to him stepped back in surprise and the rest of the crowd stepped back too.

His pulse thrummed in his temple and he dashed forwards to the building again.

The blonde fop from earlier came out from the crowd and cut an open hand into Damian's throat.

Pain screamed into Damian's throat and he clutched it and rolled backwards. His eyes were tearing up and he manically darted his sight around to try to find some escape route. He couldn't even see though; much less make a dash for it. There was just too many bastard people.

The coppers hurled him to the floor and he yelped. Then they went about peppering his body with crunching punches and kicks.

Pure fear surged through Damian and cuts and bruises started ripping open all over his body. They hammered him with everything they had and he tried to clutch everywhere at once. He was gonna bloody die here. And it was all that bastard blonde man's fault.

"Stop, stop!" a voice shouted from the crowd and pushed the coppers off of Damian.

A bolt of adrenaline rushed through him and he jolted forwards to sprint away from them again.

The copper clenched him by the scruff and threw him backwards. "Where you going, lad?"

Damian fell backwards and flipped over onto his knees. His eyes came up to plead with the copper's own green ones.

"What are you stopping this for, Wayne?" Damian's target said, "the little rat is getting exactly what he deserves. Athletic little shit, too."

Damian keeled over on the floor and his eyes darted towards all the people around him like a cornered fox.

"He's a boy," the man who stopped it said.

Damian noticed he had an American accent, just like Damian himself did. He stood up in front of the new man and clenched his hands together - his eyes pleading and distraught. "Please please please sir I'm sorry I won't do it again I didn't know what came over me please just let me go and I'll behave I promise."

His target laughed. "Look at that, the lad's American, Wayne. Just like you."

Wayne put his hand on Damian's hair.

Damian still had his hands clutched together and his eyes were wide, teary and fearful. He were scanning for an exit – praying for a little bit of leeway from his begging so that this man would make a mistake and he could sprint back out again. He was unconsciously whispering the word please over and over again whilst his eyes darted around.

"Let me take him, Pearce," Wayne said, "he doesn't need to be arrested."

His target – known as Pearce – guffawed. "Have you gone barking mad, Wayne? The little rat just tried to steal from me! He's getting nothing but the gallows!"

Panic overset Damian and his heart hammered like a jack rabbit. His eyes brimmed with tears and his hands went even higher as he begged. The line between this being an act to get away and a genuine cry for help was very blurred. "No, no, I'm sorry, please just let me go I won't do it again."

"He's a boy, Pearce," Wayne said again.

"He's a thief, Wayne," Pearce said again, "And I didn't take you for one to defend thieves."

Tears were streaming down Damian's face and the man named Wayne's hand came and stroked through his hair. It were warm on Damian's head and it made Damian's eyes water even more as he pleaded with the larger gentleman.

"What are you boys waiting for?" Pearce said, "Take him!"

Damian's heart seized up and he pounced backwards into another copper. Bloody fuck if he was going to die today! He lashed out around him. They weren't gonna take him anywhere BLOODY FUCK IF HE WAS GOING TO DIE TODAY.

The coppers leapt at Damian from both sides.

Panic set into him again and he kicked out and scratched and cried and screamed.

They grabbed him with pompous hands and muzzled him with large palms as they pulled him towards a nearby carriage. "Steady on, boy," one of them said.

Damian roared from their hands and bit into it. He was kicking at the other copper clutching his shins as well.

Wayne's eyes were focused on Damian.

Damian kicked out and tried to shout for the man but in his panic-ridden mind he couldn't remember his bloody name. All that bloody sponginess he had with picking new skills up and it weren't coming to his head.

"A lot of fight in you," one of the coppers said, dragging him to the back.

He kicked at them and bit and cried even more.

They manhandled him into the back of the carriage and his body crashed into the small space. "Little bugger," one of them said.

He immediately bolted upwards and sprinted towards the door of the carriage. Then he rammed his entire body forwards.

The door was slammed in his face and locked.

He crashed into the door and roared. Then he stepped backwards and rammed into it again. He punched his fists into it and clawed and kicked as he tried with everything he had to destroy the door.

He screamed louder than he ever had. That bastard had left him. He rammed against all the walls of the carriage as he cried.

The carriage stood still for a short while and then it began the slow clopping of horses jolting it forwards.

He screamed until his lungs were raw and his throat hurt, unrelenting in his merciless attack on the walls of the carriage. You bastard! How could you fucking leave me?! He roared and marched up and down the carriage.

He weren't … he wouldn't die here.

He bolted to the window and scanned out.

His brothers were chasing after the carriage on the rooftops.

They couldn't save him now! No one could save him. He was going to get the gallows and it was all that Pearce's fault. He paced up and down the carriage and roared. He'd kill that bastard. He'd rip out his throat in front of his eyes and throw it onto the floor.

How the bloody hell did he get out of this? There was actually no fucking way. From here, he would be taken around twenty minutes towards the centre of the city, where he would probably be publicly hanged for his crime. He yelped and his breath hitched in his throat as he madly rubbed his hands over his head. C'mon! All that intelligence and he couldn't even bloody work out how he was going to get out of this.

If his brothers helped him, he'd be able to screw over both the coppers once they opened the door. But they were bloody big – and Damian didn't know if he'd be able to take them both. C'mon Damian think.

Could he plead with the crowd before he was hanged? He shook his head. On the way to the bloody rope, the crowd just egged you and if he tried to rip away then he'd have to deal with another crowd looking for their daily fix of a public hanging. And no-one would listen to his pleas when he finally did get to the rope. They never did. He wept hard and brushed his hands over his hair.

He'd have to take out the two coppers as soon as they opened the door to take him out - he could escape then. That was the only way. Only two coppers wouldn't be all that much of a fight. He were taking that lightly of course … they would be a fight, just not as much as a bloody mob of people.

He stood up and shook his head. He tutted and lasered his eyes in on the carriage door. He weren't going to die today. Not today. Not on the Queen's life. Not until he made that bastard Pearce pay for this.

-oOo-

Sweat had drenched Damian's tiny form and his lithe body was jarringly ready to break out when they opened the door.

The carriage came to a screeching stop, and Damian crashed backwards into the wall. His form hurtled into the hard surface and he yelped at the jolt from cuts on his back, then he sprang upright and scanned the door again. He were gonna do this – he were gonna break out.

They began a conversation in the driver's seat of the carriage – quite murmurs that didn't sound like anything.

Damian's pulse pounded in his temple and his breathing was quick and focused. He couldn't make out any of the words of the conversation and he couldn't work out who exactly was talking neither – but his attention was completely concentrated on the door in front of him. His feet were pointed forwards and his eyes were narrow and focused. He was gonna make this work … he was going to make this work

His heart hammered in his chest and he furrowed his brows at the door then sniffed and wiped at his eyes. He would get out of this he would. The conversation was still going on, and Damian couldn't hear it, but he heard enough to know that there was a third person.

Footsteps beat down the path on the right side of the carriage.

Damian's pulse beat even quicker and his gaze leered at the door. He was ready. Alert.

The door swung open heavily.

A bolt of adrenaline burst through Damian and he raced towards the front of the carriage, crashing his entire form out of the carriage with a kick.

A large figure caught him and steadied him as he kicked and thrashed. "Easy, easy," the man said.

A fresh wave of panic flooded through his head and his mind raced as he kicked and yelled. He recognised the voice, but his panic-addled brain couldn't remember from where. It was deep and American.

"He's a real keeper, Wayne," the copper said from the front of the carriage, "you have a jolly good time with him, eh?"

Damian thrashed out in the man's larger than life grip, biting and spitting and kicking and showing just how much he didn't want to be there.

The carriage moved away from behind him and he was comforted by the giant figure. "Easy, easy, shshshsh, relax …"

Damian's mind was overloading with ideas and possibilities and he did everything in his power to break out of the large man's grip.

Wayne let go of him and he leapt to the floor.

He sprinted away almost as quickly as he was dropped, and couldn't think of any rational thoughts.

His brothers were stood in front of him and formed a line on the empty street.

He practically crashed into Dick and wrapped his arms around the older boy and clutched on with everything he had. His breathing was quick and his eyes were afresh with tears. He tightly closed them and squeezed onto Dick as if he were the only lifeline that could save him.

"He's a real fighter," Wayne said.

Damian's breath kept getting caught in his throat and he cried in Dick's arms. He couldn't remember a time he were bloody happier to see Dick.

"That he is," Dick said, his voice vibrating against Damian's cheek.

Damian clutched on even tighter, his panicked brain finding so much happiness in his brother's grip. He wished the older boy would never let go of him.

"Why did you do that?" Tim asked Wayne.

Damian's eyes were tightly shut and tears strolled down his chin and onto the floor.

"I couldn't let him be hanged for a crime as simple as pickpocketing," Wayne said.

"Noble of you," Jason said.

Wayne said nothing for a while. "Look, if you boys need a place, I have fresh beds and hot water … if you need a place to stay."

In his current state, Damian was so relaxed, so peaceful.

"You a saviour of children too, huh?" Dick said.

That same vibration off Dick's chest. It made Damian forget everything for a minute and he squeezed onto Dick even harder. His chest was warm and soft.

"I do what I can as often as I can," Wayne said.

Dick and Jason exchanged glances. Then Dick looked back to Wayne. "You said beds?"

Wayne nodded. "And hot water."

Dick looked to his brothers. "Well look mister, we appreciate your offer but we don't …"

"We want to talk about it," Jason said.

Damian's eyes snapped to Jason. What? What the bloody hell was he on? There wasn't anything to talk about. They weren't gonna stay with that weasel.

Dick's eyes flared. "Jason, you …"

"Let's … just talk about it before we jump to any conclusions, okay?" Jason said.

"Absolutely," Wayne said, "take your time."

Dick turned both himself and the clinging Damian away from Wayne. And as soon as he did, his brothers squeezed in to cuddle him now that they perceived less danger. They reached in on Damian all at once and enveloped him with hugs.

He was elated and his face stretched into a huge smile whilst being squeezed by the three warm bodies of his brothers.

"We really thought we lost ya', buddy," Tim said and brushed Damian's hair.

Damian nodded, a bright smile stretched over his face. "Me too."

"You gave us a mighty scare there, you did," Jason said and clutched his cheek.

Damian slowly nodded and his heart's pace began returning to normal.

Dick was shaking his head. "We didn't know what we were gonna do if you got the rope."

Damian was still nodding. His breathing and his body were relaxing a lot more.

Jason was lost in thought. "That weasel saved you."

Damian's eyes immediately became alert and his heart spiked again. His eyes jagged up towards Dick's own and looked directly into them. "No."

Tim spoke quietly. "You off your rocker, Jason? We can't trust him. He'll probably give us to the workhouse first thing in the morning."

Dick shook his head. "Nah, he paid off them coppers."

"What?" Damian said, "did he?"

Jason scratched his head. "How much we talking?"

"I don't know," Tim said, "it were definitely shillings though."

"No," Damian said through gritted teeth, "we don't need him."

Jason sat next to Damian. "How much do you reckon he paid?"

"A lot," Tim started, "a lot more than he should have. I saw a lot of notes."

Damian tutted and stepped closer to Jason. "You're not listening to me."

"Why would he pay so much for us if he was just gonna sell us off?" Jason asked.

Damian growled. "You're not really thinking about this, are you Todd?"

"Damian, he's giving us beds," Dick said.

Fury ripped through Damian and his teeth gritted. "I don't care." He looked back at Wayne. "He's a bloody weasel."

Wayne stood watching the boys. He was too far away to hear anything.

Damian turned back to the boys. "We can't live with that bastard."

Tim shook his head. "You're just saying that because you're putting him with your near-death experience."

"Tim," Damian pleaded, "please. We don't need him."

"The nights are getting colder, Damian." Dick put his hand on Damian's shoulder. "If he can get us some place to stay then we need him."

Damian was seething and he shrugged Dick's hand off his shoulder with a tut. "If you stay with him, I leave."

"Na, don't be like that," Dick said, "we'll only stay for one night. If he tries anything like selling us off, then we'll beat him down. There's four of us, there's only one of him. And let's be honest, we don't exactly struggle in fights."

"I don't want to though," Damian said – almost as if it were a last resort.

Dick furrowed his brows. "What do you lads think?"

"Damian I know how you feel," Tim said, "but it's worth a shot, innit?"

Damian grit his teeth and looked to Jason.

"I mean we can always just take him down if he screws us," Jason said, "he's one bloody guy."

Damian tutted and looked to Dick again, pleading with him once more with his eyes. "Don't do this."

"Damian," Dick said and sat down. "Do you trust me, yeah?"

Damian thought about this for a while and didn't say anything. He did trust him but he didn't trust Wayne. This were a mistake, there was no way that man wished well for them …

"Then I promise you we'll be safe," Dick said, "we'll go with him."

A heavy feeling clumped in Damian's throat. He turned around and away from his brothers while he thought. Betrayal seethed through him and his hands were loose fists at his sides. His eyes darted left and right on the floor while he contemplated.

He couldn't leave his brothers. Not now. Not when they could be in some danger with this man. But every ounce of him didn't want to stay with that man for even a second. Wayne could be any kind of man, and Damian didn't trust him.

He sniffed and closed his eyes. He couldn't leave his brothers, though. He could never leave his brothers. He would just have to be on alert for one night until they decided to leave Wayne. It were simple, weren't it? Just one night? He turned towards them, looking into Dick's eyes. "We'll only be there for one night?"

Dick nodded.

He thought for a long moment. "Alright," he nodded, "but just one night."

Dick smiled and rubbed Damian's hair.

Damian turned away and tutted. If he couldn't leave, he could at least show them how much they all pissed him off.

Dick stood up to face Wayne.

"Have you come to a conclusion?" Wayne asked.

His patience surprised Damian and made the lad tut again.

"We'll come," Dick said, "but only for one night."

Damian flinched at these words.

Wayne nodded. "Well I hope that I can change your mind about that before the day is up."

Not bloody likely.

A/N -

Now edited for flow and pacing issues!