A/N: Hey guys! This is my first story, because I'm quite new to , so please go easy on me :P Some notes on the story before you read:

1: ..yeah I know the title kinda sucks.. Sorry :/

2. To repeat what I said in the summary, One of the main characters is my OC, so sorry to people who don't like OC's... But I'll like her even if you don't :D

3. And yes, this is basically an AU- I'm acting as if like 10 years of the DC Universe didn't happen and backtracking...sorry again...

4. I know you want to stop reading my authors note now, so please, go ahead and read my fanfic xD

Chapter 1

Damian

My fourteenth birthday.

I stood up and walked to the bathroom, gazing at my face in the mirror. I wonder if Father would be proud. I pulled the white-and-black training uniform mother had given me over my toned muscles and pale skin. My dark hair was a mess, but it was short enough for me not to care, so there was no need to bother fixing it.

Talia awaits. The thought flashed in my mind as I descended the tall staircase from my bedroom door. Best not to keep mother waiting. Talia was sitting at our mini-bar, drinking a glass of wine, and having a very heated conversation on the phone. She donned a black mini-dress and heels, with stark red lipstick and nails for accessories. I gazed at my mother.

Because of the Lazarus Pits, which were found by her father, Ra's Al Ghul, mother stayed young-in appearance, at least. I don't know her real age but I guessed she was around 46, the age of my Father, Bruce Wayne. Does he remember me? Fourteen years, and never meeting my father once. Sure, there were Talia's many "courters", but growing up without a real father to teach me was...hard.

Mother looked up from her wine glass when I stepped into the room, and her voice lowered to a controlled whisper into the phone. Despite the low volume, I did catch the words "kill" and "mutilate" here and there. Ah. Must be one of her clients.

With a beeping noise, Talia clicked the phone off and turned to face me. I straightened my back and nodded to her. "Good morning, mother." I said, and she nodded. "Hello, Damian. You have training today after breakfast, so I suggest going to the kitchen. The butler has made something for you to eat."

I turned to walk towards the door. Wait. I stopped in the doorway and turned slightly back towards Talia. Has she forgotten? "Was there something you wanted, Damian?" My mother called from her seat at the bar. I looked over at her. "Yes, mother. Today is my fourteenth birthday."

Her face didn't change. "I know."

"So," I hesitated. "Will there be any sort of celebration? I've heard that others celebrate with parties when they grow another year, and I thought that since I am older now I might be able to partake in a-a birthday party."

Talia stood up and walked over, glass still in hand. "Damian, if you wish to continue training with the League of Assassins you must understand that celebrations are not always in order. You are a trained killer. Is there really that much need to celebrate if you are only a simple year older?"

I looked down at the ground. "No, mother, I'm sorry. I was only wondering."

I suppose growing another year doesn't need celebrating. One step closer to dying anyway. But still, I felt resentment towards today well up inside of me as I walked to the kitchen to eat breakfast. Shouldn't there be something special that happens? Something that makes this day different than all the others?

It's not like I expected any different from my mother. For my younger years there was only a little piece of cake after supper, or another weapon to use in the League while training. I just felt that, today being my fourteenth, I deserved something greater than before. A gift of my own choosing, even a small one. Then all of a sudden, I knew what it was that I wanted. Something that even Talia would have to give me.

A visit with my father, the Batman.

Aeryn

"Hey Aeryn! I need your help, get over here!"

With a sigh I turned toward where my Dad's voice was coming from, calling back, "Have some patience! Jeez, Dad, I'm coming!" Ugh. He can be so annoying sometimes. Nevertheless, a smile was ghosting on my lips as I flew over to where he sat at our computer, a confused look on his face.

"You'd think that the famous Nightwing should know how to operate a simple tracking device," I teased him as my hands worked the keyboards, pulling up windows showing a few areas of Blüdhaven that we've placed hidden cameras in. Dad chuckled, running a hand through his jet black hair, the exact same colour as mine. "Hey, I'm not Bruce. I grew up as an acrobat, not an electronic genius-slash-billionaire."

Bruce Wayne is my dad's oldest friend and mentor. He's also known as Batman, or the Dark Knight of Gotham City, but here we just call him by his first name. Makes things a lot easier, you know?

I stood back from the computer and watched the older hero type in a few strings of letters, observing as a man on one of the screens above started moving up to an official looking counter- probably inside of a bank. The man wore all black and was walking slowly towards the lady sitting behind the counter. I nudged my dad on the shoulder as the man moved even closer, reaching into his back pocket. There was a glint of black metal.

Dad looked over at the screen, then up at me. "Can you handle this one, Aer? I'm kind of busy with what I'm doing at the moment." I nodded. This was my favourite part of being the daughter of a superhero living in a huge criminal populated city. You get to put on an outfit and be a hero yourself.

With a last glance at the monitor for directions, I turned and pulled off my sweats, revealing a dark red and green suit underneath. My hand slipped a domino mask over my emerald eyes and pulled a pair of dark brown boots over my feet. The letter 'R' was pinned on my chest and to the yellow utility belt on my waist, signifying my alias name. Robin.

I jumped into the warm afternoon air outside, picking up speed as I flew. My eyes glowed fully green for a moment as I prepared-or you could say warmed up- my powers. I'm the first Robin to actually have superpowers, I think. I inherited them from my mother, Starfire of Tameran, so I can fly and shoot energy bolts from my hands. It was weird at first, but my mom showed me how to let go of my emotions and release my powers.

Mom. I wonder how she's doing, wherever she is. If she can see me from heaven or whatever. I wonder if she would be proud of me.

I got to Bludhaven City Bank just as the man I saw on the computer screen ran out. He was stuffing a gun into his pocket and running with a kind of lopsided gate. Maybe the lady inside tried to fight back and kicked him. This will be so easy. This idiot can barely run at the moment, let alone get out his gun and aim. Dang Bludhaven, give me some challenge already.

My dad, Dick Grayson, used to be the Batman's Robin. He's the one that decided to try to clean up Bludhaven, leaving his old city, Jump City, to become Nightwing. When I was nine Dad had showed me the Robin outfit for the first time, and at the age of eleven he taught me how to use it with my powers. Usually when you think of Robin you automatically connect it to the Batman. But since Bruce is away with the Justice League, I suppose I'm Nightwing's Robin. Or something.

I pressed a button on my utility belt, pulling out two bird-a-rangs. While shooting flaming energy at the man is fun, this style is much cleaner. Not bothering to call out and let the man know I was above him in the sky, I threw the bird-a-rangs. That should get the message across.

"Robin?" He yelped in surprise, hands clenching tighter around the bags I just noticed in his hands. I flew down and stood to face him. "How'd you guess? Look, I don't have much time before my Dad starts to worry about me, so let's make this quick. It's either you give me back the money you just took from the nice lady inside-" I paused, allowing energy to glow in my hands. "-Or I can have some fun with this."

This man was quite obviously one of the lower-class villains around these parts, as he barely knew how to hold a gun or fight. Nevertheless he bent his knees in what I suppose he thinks is a fighting stance, making a beckoning motion with his hands. "Come and fight me, hero," He said, but there was a slight tremor to his voice.

I grinned. "Gladly."

I had a bird-a-rang again in hand in less than a second, but out of curiosity to see his fighting technique I waited for him to make the first move. Dad will say that's a bad idea, but who cares.

The man shook in his position a little, sliding his gun from his pocket cautiously. Oh. He wasn't going to give me hand-to-hand combat, even though it's definitely more fun than messing with toys. I sighed loudly, shooting up into the air as he cocked the revolver. "Can't you people ever think of something more original?" I ask him, flying from spot to spot so he couldn't get a good aim on me. He didn't reply.

Fine then. Let's just get this over with.

Without breaking my jagged flight pattern I threw the bird-a-rang at his arm, narrowly missing slicing through his Tee Shirt. Ouch. I flew behind him, swiftly dodging the mass of bullets that he'd been shooting at me, and pulled his arms behind his back, kicking the gun out of reach. "I think we're finished here—I would prolong this, but I've got dinner curfew." I said, pulling his hands into a pair of handcuffs from my utility belt. As I called the Bludhaven Police Department on my communicator, my thoughts strayed from the situation at hand.

I wonder what we're having for dinner.

End of Chapter 1

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