Whelp, here's a new story. The idea just kinda hit me out of no where and I decided to run with it. It is an OC story, so if you don't like that, well, you probably won't like this. Anyway, here's to hoping you enjoy. Let me know what you think.

In this story, Dick is 26, Jason is 21, Tim is 16, and Damian is 12. Also, this story is kinda a bit of a mix between the reboot and the "old 52." So, Babs is back to being Batgirl, but Kon is still dead and so are Tim's parents.

Oh, and I own no one but Haley. If I did, Babs and Dick would so be together right now, or Dick would be dating me, but whatever...

The cold, hard cement slammed against Nightwing's face and torso as he hit the ground, hard, his right shoulder oozing blood at an alarming rate from the gunshot he had just sustained.

He tried to push himself off the ground but a crowbar landed against his back, hard, knocking the wind out of him and sending him crashing back down to the ground again. He groaned in pain as the crowbar came down on him two more times in quick succession and maniacal laughter filled the dark alley he had landed in.

He couldn't believe he had allowed himself to be caught in such a ridiculously obvious trap. He had gotten a tip that some mid-level gangsters were looking to run a shipment of arms from Gotham to Bludhaven. Trusting his intel, he tried to cut the shipment off before it left Gotham, but soon found it was an elaborate scheme set up by Joker to ambush him.

He had tried to fight them off, but there were at least two and a half dozen goons who came at him. He attempted to call for back up, but something had jammed his communicator. He had taken down at least a dozen, but the numbers game was catching up on him. Realizing his only viable option was to attempt to put enough distance between himself and the Joker to get his communicator working, he attempted to take to the skies. But, Joker had henchmen on the roof waiting, and, after being pierced with a bullet to the shoulder and tossed off the roof three stories down onto the fire escape with no means to catch himself, he was soon overpowered and chased into the alley he was currently bleeding in.

Come on Dick. Do something. He scolded himself, trying to push himself up.

The ugly purple shoes of the Joker came into his line of sight before kicking him across the face.

"Ah, if it isn't the big blue bird. Now, why don't we play a little game? The other baby bird seemed to enjoy it in Bosnia. Now, tell me, which hurts more, this," he crashed the crowbar into Nightwing's back. "Or this," he landed a shot to the side once Dick had rotated.

Another hit. "Forehand?" Another shot, "or backhand?"

"You call that…a backhand?" Nightwing wheezed out. "I'd hate…to see…your tennis game."

With a slight growl, the Joker brought the crowbar down six times in quick succession, leaving Dick gasping in pain on the ground.

"Well, tennis never was my game, but tee-ball, now that's a sport. Let's see if I can still make a home run." He lined the crowbar up with Dick's skull and lifted it high, prepared to come down on the vigilante's skull. Nightwing tensed, knowing this would be the final blow.

However, before Joker could land the killing shot, a knife zipped through the air and caught Joker's wrist, causing him to cry out in pain and drop the crowbar. Another came whizzing by seconds later, missing his face by mere centimeters.

"That was a warning shot." A voice shouted from the shadows of the alley. "Make another move toward Nightwing and the next one goes in your eye."

A young woman stepped out of the shadows, wearing holey jeans, a black tank top, and a brown leather biker jacket. She stood about 5'8", an athletic frame. She had shocking blue eyes with dark makeup that stood out against her pale skin and blonde hair. Those eyes held a sense of toughness and commandment, the dark circles and deepness of them making her look older than the teenager she was.

"And what have we here? I'm sure it must be past your bedtime." Joker quipped, pulling the knife from his hand with a grunt.

"And I wasn't aware that the circus was in town clownshoes." She bit back, taking another step out of the shadows and closer to the group in front of her. "You and your little buddies are not welcome here."

"Oh really? Would you be so kind as to tell me who the hell you are and why you think you can tell me where I am and am not welcomed?"

"Me?" She pointed to herself and scoffed. "I'm nothing from nowhere; no one at all. But I can tell you that this block and the surrounding four blocks are protected by the outcast. There've only been a handful of major crimes in this neighborhood in the past two years and we like to keep our numbers that way, and we'll do what it takes to make that happen. Ask your boys: we got rules around here. No gang bangers, no drug dealers, no pimps, no prostitutes, and sure as hell no d*** creepy pale faced clowns."

"Ah, come on. Is that a healthy attitude to have toward outsiders?"

"Unless you've got a green sash and a box of Thin Mints to sell me, you've got about seven seconds to get out of this area."

"Sweetheart, if I'm not scared of a giant flying rodent, do you really think one PMS-ing 13-year-old little girl is going to."

"Sixteen." She swiftly corrected, before flashing a crooked smirk. "And, one PMS-ing little girl? Well…" She turned her body slightly to the side before throwing her head back, cupping her hands over her mouth and howling like a wolf.

A few moments passed in silence, before, finally, five echoing howls sounded throughout the alley before a steady thump-thump-thump of metal against wall and concrete was heard. But it wasn't just once echo. It was dozens of thumps sounding simultaneously. Out of the shadows emerged not ten, not twenty, but around thirty teenagers, nearly all of whom looked to be high school age. All of them had weapons in their hands: Pipes, hockey sticks, bats, golf clubs, and 2 by 4s. They were behind the blonde, at her sides, on the fire escapes. Some were even on the roof with what looked like baseballs and glass bottles.

"I think your numbers may be a little off." The girl smirked, smacking her gum a little while holding her hands to her side. "Meet the Outcast: Your local and friendly Neighborhood Watch."

The Joker laughed as he took in the scene in front of him. "Ah look, the breakfast club wants to play superheroes. Shouldn't you guys be going to prom or running off to join the circus?"

The blonde turned around as a boy approached her with two bats in hand. She took the second bat before whispering "Everyone in position?"

He nodded wordless as she turned back around to face the Joker. "Yeah, we should be living normal, teenage lives; but between living in these slum apartments and losing friends and families to numerous gang wars and to you and your psychopath friends like Two-Face and Penguin, we decided to take matters into our own hands. You're only as strong as the people of Gotham allow you to be. Batman and the other heroes are only a handful of men and women. They can't face every fight you take to them. But, if a whole city stands against you, you're good as done."

"Yeah, like you could stand against the Joker." One of the henchmen yelled, causing her to point and glare.

"Shut your mouth while the grown-ups are talking." She then turned back to Joker. "Yours isn't the first crew we've had to run off and it won't be the last. But, let's just make this a little easier. You guys just turn around and leave: no problems. We all get to go back to our homework and your can devise yet another plan that will fail and ultimately lead to Batman kicking your sorry rump all the way to Arkham."

"Well, if that's what you want, I'll just take my pal wing here and we'll…" He took a step toward the fallen hero, causing the girl to step forward and all the teenagers around her to do the same.

"Leave him alone." She nearly growled.

"Oh, does the little girl have a crush on the mini-bat?"

She scoffed again. "Well, he is much better looking than you or any of your crew, but this is about something deeper than that. He and his friends or family or whoever they are, have saved us, saved people we love more times than we'll probably ever know. And its high-time we did the same for him. So if you want to get to him, you go through us. All of us."

"Okay, but, you all need to take your Flintstone Vitamins when we're done here, then straight to bed." He laughed at his own joke as his lackeys joined in. Seeing the stony glares from the opposition, he sighed before looking behind him. "Crush 'em."

The few henchmen who hadn't lost their guns in the original struggle with Nightwing pointed them at the teenagers, as the girl looked behind her and started shouting out orders.

"Owls, smokescreen! Everyone else, cover!" She screamed. The kids on the roof immediately threw the glass bottles they had been holding. However, there was a mixture of chemicals inside each one that produced a thick blanket of smoke. Although most of the henchmen were too busy hacking up a storm to shoot, a few gunshots rang out and the kids all dove for cover behind dumpsters as Joker screamed. "Stop shooting you idiots, you'll hit me. They haven't even hit puberty yet, just go fight them!" He shouted and the shots ceased.

The blonde stood up and started barking orders again. "Newbs, circle around Nightwing, no one gets near him. Wolves, left side. Lions, right side. Reapers!" She looked around as everyone got into their position and her fellow reapers, a group of seven, stood behind her. "Give 'em hell."

With primal war cries, the teenagers rushed forward, weapons raised above their heads, no fear showing on their faces. The henchmen's discarded guns were kicked well out of reach of the fighting and the kids used all their resources. Their fighting wasn't acrobatic like that of the bat family, but it was street tested and approved, some may even call it dirty.

The Reapers, especially, were vicious. They each had bats and were swinging for the fences, destroying knees, shattering elbows, breaking ribs, and bruising vertebrae. They continued on their tear, as a hum to the tune of "Meet the Mets" sounded collectively from the group as they swung their bats at person after person.

Having used the element of surprise to their advantage, they quickly took down the lackeys. About eight remained on the ground as another nine or so got away.

And Joker was no where to be found.

As the girl and apparent leader of the group noticed this, she sighed and shook her head. "Typical. Guy is all talk until trouble comes." She then took in her surroundings, the members climbing off the roofs and down the fire escapes and those cradling limbs or bleeding. Most, however, were too busy cheering, high firing, or clapping one another on the back to appear too hurt. She turned to the boy who had given her the bat at the beginning of the encounter. "What are we looking at?"

"From what I saw: Two guns, 9 more bleeders, and two head hits. Everyone else is just scrapes and bruises.

"Thanks Ry. Tara," she diverted her attention to the brunette beside her. "I need you to go check on Nightwing, see what kind of injuries we're looking at." As Tara nodded and walked off, the blonde pulled herself up on the fire escape and looked at those around her.

"Alright, great job tonight everyone. Group leaders, gather your crew. Any gunshot wounds or head traumas go straight to the clinic. Anyone bleeding goes to the room on block C and gets patched up – Tara, Ryan, Evan, and Jackie will be there after a brief meeting. Everyone report there with your leaders, then head home for the night and get some rest. I want Owls and Wolves on patrol tomorrow night. There may be some revenge in the works, so keep your eyes peeled. Great job everyone, now get some rest." She then looked at the six closest to her. "Reapers, I need you to come with me. "

They nodded as she jumped down and started walking through the crowd, which quickly parted ways for her. Generally, no one could see any difference between her and her group, she made sure of that, feeling that leading from within was better than leading from ahead or above. However, when especially rough situations like those of that night occurred, she went into full leader mode and was treated as such by those around her.

The small group walked with her over to where the hero was on his side, in obvious pain.

The young girl knelt down next to him, giving him a soft smile. He looked somewhat frightened, probably due to the confusion from the multiple blows to the head, but she simply placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Hey, you're safe." She said softly. "My name's Haley and we're not going to hurt you. Just, try to stay calm until we figure out how to help you, okay?"

"What…what was that?"

She smirked. "A rather aggressive neighborhood watch meeting." She chuckled before looking up at Tara. "What are we looking at?"

"Cuts, gunshot to the shoulder…probably a concussion." She shook her head. "Haley, this is beyond our pay grade. We're going to have to get him to a hospital."

"No." They heard Nightwing muttered softly beside them. "No…hospital."

"Where can we take you then? How can we help? Because we aren't doctors…all we've learned we saw in E.R. or Grey's Anatomy."

Slowly and with a great deal of pain, he reached into his belt and pulled out a small backup communicator. "Red Robin." He croaked again, as his eyes grew heavy.

"Hey, hey!" She gently tapped his check to keep him awake. "Stay with us, alright, I'm sure he'll be here soon and he'll want to talk to you." She then looked at the others. "Keep him awake and as alert as you can."

Stepping away, she moved a few feet to a shadow before pressing the button on the side and sighing. "Nightwing's communicator to Red Robin. Come in Red Robin."

"Who are you? Where's Nightwing?" The static-filled voice answer asked moments later.

"He was ambushed by Joker and his crew. He…he's hurt in a pretty bad way. Joker worked him over with a crowbar before we could stop him. The goons and Joker are gone, but he needs help and told us to call you."

"Whose we? How did you stop him? What have you…"

"Is that really important right now?" Haley snapped.

Before she could react, a flash of red jumped off the rooftop and landed in front of her, causing her to jump back and let out a small gasp of surprise while clutching her heart.

"No, it's not." Red Robin said from in front of her as he looked over the area really quickly. Immediately, he put his hand to his comlink on his ear. "Alf, do you have my GPS? I need you to send the car. Nightwing's down and needs medical attention."

"On the way, Red Robin." He replied quickly as Tim walked toward his fallen brother, the small group of teens parting so he could get through. Kneeling beside Nightwing, he placed a hand on his chest. "You alright Wing?"

The older man attempted to answer with a nod, but the movement sent a searing pain throughout his body and caused a coughing fit.

"Just stay still, the car's almost here." He said, doing a quick assessment of the injuries: concussion, a few broken ribs, bruises and cuts, and a possible dislocated shoulder from the fall. Red Robin turned toward the blonde girl who had met him, whom he assumed was the leader of the group.

"You say Joker did this?"

"Yeah, we fought his thugs off and he headed for higher ground I guess. We would have patched him up, but…"

"We?"

"Just…some local teens doing our part to clean Gotham up." She replied with a shrug, handing him Nightwing's communicator in the process. "Look, it's a long story that your crime-fighting buddy doesn't have time for me to tell you."

Tim studied her for a moment before nodding. He was about to say something else, when a slick, red car with a bright "R" emblem pulled in behind them. Tim looked toward Nightwing then the car before sighing. "Can you…" he motioned toward the car.

Haley nodded. "I'll help." She quickly answered as the two gingerly picked Nightwing up. The injured man, though he attempted not to, groaned and gasped in pain as he was moved from the alley floor.

"Sorry Wing. Just got to get you to the car and I'll get you home and get you patched up, alright?" Tim soothed as he and Haley gently deposited him in the passenger seat of the car. Red Robin then hurried to the other side. He was about to enter the car when Haley cleared her throat.

"Can you…" she hesitated for a few moments before sighing. "Can you let me know if he's alright? Please?"

Tim hesitated for a moment before he reluctantly nodded. "I'll be in touch." He answered, before he jumped in the car and drove off, tires squealing in his haste.

There was chapter 1. I'm leaving for a week at church camp, so I'm going to work on it some then and then post when I get back, but the more reviews I have, the better my writing will be and the quicker I'll post. Thanks for reading! Love ya guys! Review please!

Casey
*2 Corinthians 4:8-9*