"To hell with Bruce's 'no kill' rule! We are committing murder tonight." Tim exclaimed. He gripped his bow and threw the quiver on his back as he and Damian climbed out the window. Damian grimly nodded as he held a katana in one hand and powerful flashlight in the other hand. Blood would be shed by their hands that night.

Two Months Before

"Father, I have compiled an in-depth paper on why should get chickens. I've outlined all the ways that having chickens would be advantages to us," Damian handed over at least five-page research paper (properly cited, of course).

Bruce merely took it and replied, "I'll be sure to read it and give you my answer soon." Bruce did read the outrageously long and in detail paper, he also saw that Damian was being more patient with his brothers and Jon. It was obvious that Damian was trying to make sure that he got the chickens he wanted. Bruce did his own research on the chickens he made up his mind. Two weeks after Damian gave him the paper Bruce decided that fifteens chickens would be a good idea.

Bruce sighed, Damian was slowly making Wayne Manor into a Wayne Farm.

When Damian got the news that he could get chickens he quickly told Bruce what kind of hens he wanted and what pens he had looked up to keep the chickens safe. A weekend later Damian, Dick, and Alfred built a sturdy free-range pen that would be comfortable fifteen hens. Damian checked it at least five times for holes or anything that might be a security flaw. Damian had scoured the internet for a reputable place that he could buy laying hens and found a small family farm two hours outside of Gotham that had the breed of chickens that would be the best egg layers.

Dick and Damian rented a small truck and built a cage that would safely transport the chickens back to Gotham. They set out to buy the Rhode Island Red chickens, the trip to the small farm was filled with Dick's easy chatter and Damian occasional comment. The farm was surrounded by trees and hills; it took them an extra fifteen minutes when they took a few too many wrong turns. Dick finally found the small farm it was filled with animals, sheep, goats, a donkey, and chickens. The pen that the farmer, (Bob) and his wife, (Ava) had built was more or less how Damian's was constructed for the hens.

Damian inspected the hens one by one and found them to be satisfactory. Bob and Ava just laughed at how excited Damian was to get him some chickens. They talked for a few minutes the farming couple giving Damian advice like, "Make sure they have plenty of water," or "Watch out for raccoons" then they carefully loaded the chickens in the back of the truck and were on there way. The farmer and his wife waved goodbye as they drove away. The two-hour drive to Gotham seemed to take forever to Damian he was thrumming with excitement at his newest additions, he appeared calm on the outside of course. He had grown up in the desert and they always had a fresh supply of eggs. He knows the others didn't know the difference between fresh and store-bought eggs, but he would teach them the difference.

It was dark by the time Dick pulled into the driveway of the Manor. He and Damian made quick work of putting the chickens in the pen. Damian did a quick inspection then they left for patrol. The next morning Damian inspected his chickens and found he had six brown eggs. Dick just happened to walk out to see Damian holding one of the larger hens.

"Are they named?" Dick asked as he came closer.

"Don't be ridiculous. They all look the same it would be impossible to name them all and keep up with all the names," Damian replied as he gently set the hen down and picked up the egg carton containing the eggs.

Dick just laughed and looked at the eggs in the carton, "I can't wait to try them!"

The chickens were slowly excepted into the repertoire of Damian's family and pets. Jason had learned early on not to call them chicken nuggets. Alfred washed and baked with the eggs, Damian took care of them and no one remembered if Tim had been told about them. Chickens, for the most part, are quiet creatures and Tim rarely went to the back lawn of the manor to even be able to see them. The weeks went by and on the night that Titus had been taken to the vet to be neutered Damian and Tim were both benched for separate reasons.

Damian had snuck out again and had almost gotten hurt. Tim had just gotten back from an undercover operation that was filled with a few too many close calls. He'd almost been discovered and was barely pulled out in time. Alfred forbade him from patrol for a few days to rest up and was enforcing it by making him spend the night at the manor. Tim had been avoiding sleep ever since he'd gotten back and Alfred wanted to keep an eye on him. They both were bored and couldn't stand each other so they agreed to stay in their rooms and avoid the other. It worked out when they both fell asleep pretty soon after going to their rooms. The false safety of Wanye Manor hadn't been discovered yet.

Damian awoke startled. He calmed his breathing and tried to think of a reason for waking up so suddenly, no nightmare, wait; his chickens! He could hear them cackling and they were in trouble. It was strange to hear them so, Damian leaped out of bed cursing his terrible choice of wearing the Batman pajamas that Grayson purchased for him. He grabbed a flashlight he turned it on and opened his window to see a raccoon near his chickens. By the time Damian ran down the stairs and out the door wielding his katana the raccoon had already fled, leaving his victim behind. One of the larger hens was lying pressed against the pen's metal: headless and bleeding.

"No, I was supposed to protect you. I built the pen so you would be safe, Gertrude," Damian huffed angrily at himself and the raccoon that extinguished Gertrude's life. His revenge would be swift and exacting.

Damian carefully got her body out of the pen and gently laid her body out of the reach of the accursed raccoon the hen would have a proper burial tomorrow, but for the night she would have to be stored in the feed shed.

Damian was still fuming at the raccoon and himself when he got back to his room, he sheathed his katana and placed the flashlight by his bed. He fell back into a light sleep when he was awakened by the squawking of his hens. Damian leaped out of bed opened the window and proceeded to throw baterangs at the returning masked chicken murderer. "Die!" Damian yelled louder than he intended to because Tim ran into his room with only Wonder Woman boxers and his bo staff at the ready for anything.

"Who are you trying to kill?" Tim asked bewildered, his adrenaline running high at Damian's proclamation for something to die. His eyes swept the room for any danger.

"That insolent raccoon killed Gertrude! In cold blood and then he had the nerve to return to try and steal her corpse from the feed shed! I didn't hit it. It ducked and dodged; we aren't dealing with a normal raccoon. This is something worse," Damian explained.

"You have chickens?" Tim asked, "No one tells me anything anymore." He shook his head and muttered something Damian didn't catch.

"We have to post a guard. Titus is at the vet's. No more of my hens will be touched by that filthy creature," Damian vowed.

"When did you decide Titus needed to be fixed? When did you get chickens? Damian, what do you even mean 'post a guard?" Tim asked he had finally started to catch up on some well-needed sleep, well trying to anyway. He collapsed the bo staff walking over to Damian, he saw out the window the hens huddled in a corner of the pen.

"One or both of us will be watching over the chickens. We can get a better vantage point from the roof. If Todd wasn't insufferable I would get him to come over and shoot it." Damian stated he was already trying to think of the most excruciating, humane way to take care of the raccoon. It was still an animal, but it was the Joker of the animal kingdom.

"Your right. We have to save the rest of your chickens. I'll stay up and 'post a guard' with you," Tim turned back to his room and came back with thick jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and domino.

"What? These are bite resistant. Those things are cagey I'm not taking a chance on anything." Tim explained.

Damian merely nodded and then started to put on jeans, a thick long-sleeved shirt, and his own domino mask. They both climbed out the window and with the night vision in the masks they could look for the raccoon's heat signature. They both sat in complete silence as they watched for their prey. For all their training Tim and Damian both felt themselves becoming drowsy. Tim hadn't got much sleep while he was undercover and Alfred had switched out all the coffee with decaf. Damian was feeling a crash from the adrenaline that had completely woke him up was leading to a crash. He was a highly trained vigilante, Robin and biologically a child.

Tim and Damian both drifted off to sleep in the relative safety of Wayne Manor's roof. It was only an hour and a half later that they both startled awake and aware that they fell asleep on the roof... and that the accursed raccoon had returned to lay siege on the chicken pen yet again.

Damian leaped into actions with baterangs ready and launched them at the raccoon with one hand and held a flashlight in the other hand.

Tim was caught off guard by how fast the fat trash panda was. The gray blob practically flew away from Damian's aerial attacks and went to the safety of the nearby grove of trees that obscured it from view.

"Your right, this isn't normal. We need to somehow step up our game. Do we have any traps, that aren't built for supervillains?" Tim asked out loud.

"I have no idea! We have to gain control over this situation! The raccoon cannot defeat us again!" Damian announced with his voice cracking in fury and overwhelming rage.

"Okay, we are literally Red Robin and Robin we can outsmart this common varmint," Tim said running scenarios in his mind of what would be the best way to trap the animal that was clearly not normal. If they didn't kill villains that had reasoning abilities they weren't going to kill a raccoon that was doing what nature told it to do.

Tim and Damian raided their rooms respectively. Tim found a few makeshift miniature cage that was needed once when he was younger, but he couldn't remember what it was used for. He looked at the bow and arrows that had been given to him once by a member of the Arrow family when he was a Titan. Damian searched his room and found his best throwing knives, more knives, smoke bombs, heavy rocks and a sling to launch the rocks with.

Tim glanced at the pile that Damian accumulated in less than two minutes, "Good job, Damian. Bruce would be proud of how resourceful you've been and how those are almost subtle in your room."

"Thank you, Drake. Tt, this time we are prepared," Damian replied as he prepared for the varmint's return. He strapped the smoke bombs and the throwing knives around his back and waist.

Tim and Damian left the manor and silently set the trap around the chicken pen and went back to the roof to wait for their prey. It was a very somber mood that fell on Tim and Damian as they waited for the raccoon. They were determined to stay awake this time.

It had been two hours and they both were tired, but they stayed awake. The raccoon came back. Damian. Threw. Every. Single. Knife. At. Him. And. It. Still. Got. Away. Tim's cage was dragged at least a foot away from where he set it. Now they were both tired, exasperated and angrier than before.

Tim stormed in the window and back into the manor. "To hell with Bruce's 'no kill' rule! We are committing murder tonight." Tim exclaimed. He ran to his room and grabbed his bow and threw the quiver on his back as he and Damian climbed out the window. Damian grimly nodded as he held a katana in one hand and powerful flashlight in the other hand. Blood would be shed by their hands that night.

The raccoon did come back and Tim and Damian were ready. With bloodshot eyes, and righteous anger flowing through them, Tim shot and killed the raccoon with an arrow Damian was the one to hold the flashlight so Tim could see it. Damian's whoop of wild excitement and uncontained joy was something Tim never heard before as he started to jump up and down at the sight of his fallen prey. He and Damian barely got a hour of sleep, but it was worth it.

They could finally go back to bed in peace. The sun would be coming up soon and they barely got any sleep. Tim and Damian congratulated themselves on a job well done on protecting the chickens Tim found out about last night.

Bruce walked out in the late morning enjoying his cup of coffee to see a war zone.

The back of the lawn was covered in knives. There was a blood trail coming from the chicken pen to the shed. A raccoon was lying dead with an arrow sticking out of it like a bad joke.

He went back inside and shut the door. Whatever happened he didn't want to know about until it was much later in the day. He just hoped all the blood was from the raccoon, and not an intruder.

AN

It's illegal to kill raccoons in New Jersey. But it's also illegal to be vigilante. ;)

Review this off the wall, weird story.