Hi guys. So I'm not even gonna try to come up with excuses now. Suffice it to say that I finally have free time and I have new stories ready to be written (and a few chapters to add to uncomplete stories too…) Here's just a start to a story I hope will be as interesting as my thoughts want it to be. This story has been hopping around in my head for a while and I figured it's about time I actually wrote it. Sorry if I'm a little rusty here. R and R appreciated ^_^

CHAPTER 1: BIRTHPLACE

Gotham. The birthplace of heroes and villains alike. Always had been, always would be. Not for lack of trying on the part of a certain Bat. Atop a decrepit building in the center of Crime Alley, a man stood holding a cigarette and breathing deep as the fumes filtered toward the sky. He was tall, with the heavy muscles of a man who has seen active combat. His large fists wrap around a bottle of booze and he takes a moment to savor the crisp night air before taking a swig of the sharp brandy. He spit onto the uneven cement of the roof, wishing he could dispel the scent of human filth rolling over his nose.

His phone vibrated against his leg and he lifted the device out to bark a sharp "What?"

"It's time, Johnny." The disjointed voice replied, completely ignoring the irritation in the other man's voice. "Get your crew together and meet us at the docks."

Johnny made a noise deep in his throat. Anyone else would have taken it as mere annoyance, but the man on the other end of the line snorted and said, "Don't worry, you'll be able to rough him up a bit. The boss didn't say in what condition that he has to be in when we bring him, only that we get the job done."

A smile spread across Johnny's face, one dripping with menace. "Just so long as I get a good hit in, I'm good to go." With that, the phone slid out of his hand and Johnny took one last swig of his alcohol before stamping out the cigarette and heading down to the docks. This was going to be a damn good night; he could already tell.

…

Damian Wayne flew through the skies, unleashing grappling hook after grappling hook. The feeling of weightlessness left a smile on his face and a giddy feeling in his stomach. Damian had never expected to actually enjoy working with his father, even as a child when he had dreamed up the visage of the stony patriarch. Back then, he'd envisioned a larger than life figure that would come for him, to take him away from the endless studies, training, and general discomfort of being the only biological male heir of Ra's Al Ghul. It had never happened, though. His mother had simply dropped him off as if to say that Damian wasn't worth enough to hold on to. And that still hurt. Being with his father this last year had broken the boy's image. Now, when he thought of his father, Damian couldn't quite decide how to feel. Usually, the emotions drifted from impotent rage to something not quite approaching love. He supposed that was normal for a ten-year-old. Then again, he wasn't the average kid.

In this particular moment, however, he was locked in on the former.

Hot rage filled his belly, only intensifying the exhilaration of flight. This time, he would do it. He was going to run away and there was nothing his father could do about it. He was definitely keeping the Robin suite though. That was non-negotiable. Finally, Robin released one last grappling hook and landed neatly on an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town.

"Damian, you can't just take off like that," Bruce had said. "If you act recklessly in the field again, I'm taking you off this case."

Damian had sputtered with rage, fuming. This was his case, not Bruce's. Damian had been the one to track the shipments. Damian had been the one to realize that something big was coming into Gotham. And it had been Damian to suggest the seedy bar as a place where the culprits congregated. "I took those men down, they were going to hurt that little girl!" He had screamed, uncaring that Alfred was staring at him disapprovingly from the sideline.

"You went against a direct order, Damian." Bruce said just as angrily. "You don't ever do that again!"

Damian lost it, he couldn't even stop the words if he'd wanted to, "What, do you think I'll go off and get myself killed like Todd?" He snapped. "Maybe you've forgotten, but I'm nothing like that brain-damaged gorilla."

The air in the cave went deadly still.

Bruce paled several degrees and he looked down at his son with something dark and dangerous sparkling in his eyes. "Bedroom. Now." He ground out.

Damian had felt angry tears prick at the corner of his eyes. He started running for the stairs, screaming "I wish Mother had never forced me to meet you!"

Damian didn't wait for a response, he just went to his room. From there, his emotions had boiled over the top. With no real outlet left for his anger, he looked to the window. "If he won't let me on the case, I'll just have to solve the case without him!" he had thought. He spared no hesitation.

When Bruce came to look for him an hour later, Damian had been long gone.

Now, standing atop a high-rise just beside the Gotham City docks, Damian spotted his targets. There was a large ship in port, one that Damian was sure was not registered to be there. Men were unloading the contents of the ship's hull as many others stood by, aiming guns in every direction – clearly expecting the fabled Batman to come and ruin their night. Damian smiled. This time, it would be Robin to come to the rescue. He shot off another grappling hook and made his way closer to the ship.

Many of the men were congregating in a large, mostly unfinished warehouse. Damian snuck closer and landed atop the warehouse, peaking through the shattered remains of a skylight. This particular part of the docks had lain unfinished for years. Most of the wood had rotted away while Gotham's leadership bickered over how best to restore it. Plans had been made and then thoroughly dismissed several times, over several political careers. Every time a new action to finish the east side of the port, a rival faction would kill it in infancy, an action usually supported by Gotham's underground.

Damian let out a -Tt- and moved into the building, never even suspecting that this was exactly what the men below had been waiting for.

…

When the men had first started to unload their shipment, the Red Hood had been informed. No one made a move on his turf without Jason Todd becoming aware of it. And it wasn't pretty when that happened. He'd been hearing rumors of a small group on the rise in Gotham, but had no solid proof until tonight. Now, looking at the organization of the men below, Jason could only conclude that this was no small venture. The men were unloading wooden boxes in single file before returning to the ship for more. Looking closely, he knew something was off. It was too perfect. Too careful. And each of the men carrying boxes seemed to be under no strain, despite the seemingly cumbersome size of the boxes. That meant they were likely empty. And why on earth would men be going to such lengths to hide a shipment of boxes with nothing inside. And why was it that each man also had a noticeable bulge in their jacket pockets.

So, each of the men were well armed, carrying empty boxes into a warehouse that was unfinished and likely no safeguard for any real goods. I smell a rat, Jason thought grimly.

That was when he saw a little flash of red and green passing through a broken skylight. Jason waited for a moment, expecting to see the dark and imposing figure of Batman following the little imp. The thought made Jason shiver, and not from the cold. His heart picked up, and Jason prepared to leave. Whatever this operation had been, it was surely about to be ended by the Dark Knight.

But Batman wasn't there. No dark figure appeared. Instead, gunfire lit the night sky, turning the dark waters of the port a startling red as the light came and went with the boom of battle. Jason rose swiftly, tapping the communication outlet and switching the channel to Oracle. "Yo, Babs, you there?"

I flurry of bullets came his way and Jason hastily ducked to avoid being shot. "Jason? How did you get this frequency?" Oracle's voice came through clear and strong, if a bit wary.

He couldn't help but smile at that, despite the battle going on around him. Jason lifted his guns from their holsters and began returning fire. "No time, Babs. Where is Big B?"

"He's unavailable." She said with an edge in her voice. "Why are you looking for Batman?"

Jason ducked down just in time to hear the whizzing of a bullet far too close for comfort. "Because I want to throw him a party, Barbara," he said in the sweetest voice he could manage. "Seriously, though, little bird is in the middle of a warzone over here and I don't have a visual on Bats."

Barbara sucked in her breath quickly, confirming his suspicions. So, the little demon had run off alone after all. Horse shit.

"Stay where you are, I'm going to track you." Her voice brooked no argument, sounding for all the world like Bruce in that moment.

Good thing Jason had had so much practice disobeying that voice. "The hell you are, there's no time. I'm going in after the little hellspawn."

"Jason-" He cut off the transmission and moved.

Jason made his way closer to the warehouse, weaving between bullets in a way that wouldn't ever be considered graceful, but it got the job done. Just as he reached the doors to the warehouse he heard a muffled cry of pain and the bullets suddenly stopped flying. Damian, Jason identified. The sound was coming from above him. Jason barreled his way inside the building, rolling behind a group of boxes. From there, he could see the men cornering the little bastard.

The boy was shot. Blood pumped from a wound in his shoulder and the men were raising pipes and – and was that a crowbar? Seeing it raised in the air, something in Jason broke. He was sure he heard it, like an audible snap. Something about seeing a group of large men standing over a boy in that outfit – his outfit, really – made him flare to life. Jason roared a warning to the men, making them turn away from their prize. His guns flared to life, but Jason didn't slow down. He was up the stairs and on the landing in seconds, twisting out of the path of bullets faster than he could think about it. A row of windows lined the warehouse and Jason herded the men toward them, forcing them away from Damian. Finally, when he stood in front of the boy he crouched down, forming a barrier between what remained of the thugs and Robin.

"Get out of here, kid." Jason Said quietly, venomously.

The boy looked for a moment like he was ready to argue, but then grimaced in pain and got up slowly. Jason gave him a shove in the direction of the skylight he had first entered through. Damian didn't need to be told twice, he booked it, trailing blood behind him.

"Stop him!" one of the larger men yelled, pointing at the retreating Robin.

Jason let out a warning growl and the men hesitated. He pulled the triggers on his guns, but they let out a useless click. Out of ammo. he cursed and then he ran directly at the group of men, determined to keep them away from Damian long enough for the boy to escape. He was so focused on his task that he didn't even see the large, ape-like form of Johnny Bondanella rushing toward him from the side until it was too late.

Together, he and Johnny crashed through the window of the warehouse and plummeted to the ground below.

…

When Jason came to, he was staring at the purple-blue sky of Gotham above. Pain blossomed from his abdomen and Jason struggled to get a look at his injuries. There was definitely glass crushed into his back, he could feel one particularly long shard pricking his shoulder. His limbs were unresponsive and Jason was sure that something was broken. But what caught his eye first was the three inches of solid rebar skewering him to the spot. As he looked at the metal in shock, the pain intensified, as though his brain was just now catching up to what his body was going through. He coughed wetly, tasting the copper of blood in his mouth.

"Fuck." He gasped, trying to force his mind to work past the agony to figure out his next move.

That was when he heard a groan beside him. Jason turned his head and saw the dark eyes of Johnny.

Johnny, for his part, looked mildly startled to find himself on the ground. He had tackled the Red Hood, thinking only of stopping the man's interference. He hadn't intended to fly through the glass with him. Nonetheless, he gasped as he pulled a piece of glass from his arm. Then, his murderous gaze swung back to the vigilante. "You!" he screamed in rage, getting up off the ground and standing over him menacingly. Without hesitating, Johnny took hold of the red helmet and pulled.

The motion jarred Jason, moving the rebar and pushing fresh blood from the wound. Jason let out a startled hiss of pain before Johnny finally hit the release and pulled the helmet away. Jason was still wearing his domino mask, but the rush of cool Gotham air on his cheeks sent a thrill of fear racing through him.

Johnny stared at the masked eyes of the Red Hood and then laughed. The sound filled Jason with dread, forcing his mind back to a time when he had been so similarly helpless. And the sound of maniacal laughter had filled the air then too. Jason had to actively control his breathing, even when his brain and body screamed in wild terror. Blood slipped from his mouth as he struggled to get up, flinging his arms and legs wildly to just get away. It was futile, Jason knew, but something had gotten loose in his mind and rationality went straight out the door. Johnny chuckled once more, darkly, before hunkering down and putting his meaty fists around Jason's throat.

"You remember me, Hood?" Johnny asked, as tears pricked in Jason's eyes. "You attacked my boss's shipment a few months back, left me without work or money." His eyes gleamed with manic joy. "Time for payback!"

Jason shook his head, his lungs screaming for air. His eye caught on the shard of glass that the man had so callously discarded earlier. Without pausing to think about it, Jason reached for the shard, took hold of it, and then jammed it directly into Johnny's eye.

Johnny screamed, hands falling away from Jason to grasp at the shard still lodged into his left eye. Jason took a gulp of air, gasping and coughing to regain his breath. The rebar kept shifting as he moved, and by the time he stopped coughing, there was agony shooting throughout his entire body. Something deep inside him was screaming at him to move, to get away before the man recovered enough to finish him off. Jason searched left and right again, but nothing stood out. Nothing he could use to get off the blasted rebar. Jason reached for the edge of a nearby dumpster, realizing at once that there was an indent in the dumpster. He used the crevice in the bottom to maneuver himself upward. He gasped and fell back as blood spurted from the wound. Jason let out a strangled cry and lay there for a moment until the darkness creeping in on his vision started to fade. Johnny was still working up the courage to pull the shard from his eye, screaming to the heavens. Jason tried again. This time he pulled himself off, crying out as the angle of removal tore fresh blood from the wound. Jason flipped to his side as soon as he was free, laying there just to catch his breath.

Jason was a survivor, and he had to keep telling himself that he'd had worse. It didn't help much as his vision faded and black dots danced before him. It was a few minutes before he realized there were voices around him. He opened his eyes – when had he closed them? – only to blink in fear as he realized he was surrounded. The thugs from inside had made it out back and formed a loose circle around him. Some were helping Johnny, trying to tend to the gaping wound where once his eye had been.

Jason swallowed audibly, trying to force down the nausea that took over in the absence of the rebar. Finally, his mind caught up with what the men were saying.

"He has the blood…"

"Boss wants….

"Grab his ankles…. Bring him back…."

At this last part, the men grabbed hold of him and started dragging him. Jason let out a cry of pain as the glass in his back was ground into his skin and the raw edges of his wounds were scraped open. He saw a shiny black car waiting at the end of the alley and Jason tried weakly to push back against their grip.

The last thing he saw was the flash of metal coming at his face.

Dimly, he thought, this is what he got for trying to help.

…

When Oracle had called him, Batman was already on the move. He had been scouring the city in a vain attempt to find Robin. All the while, images of the last time he had been too late flashing in his mind painfully.

My son…

But the part of him that was the Bat rebelled. A soldier, a casualty of war. Batman thought this so fiercely that Bruce was pushed aside, burying himself deep within his alter-ego. If Jas-Damian was going to survive, he needed Batman, not Bruce Wayne. And right now, Bruce Wayne would do anything to avoid that images floating in his mind.

Suddenly, his com link flared to life and a small, childish voice called his name. "F-Father?"

Bruce came out at once, Reaching automatically for his receiver. "Damian, where are you?" He all but screamed at the boy.

He could practically hear the boy flinch. "I'm – I'm by the docks…" He said finally, and if it was possible, Bruce's grip on the wheel tightened. "I – Todd saved me." This he said with shock, like he didn't even believe himself.

Jason. Bruce's heart squeezed at the mention of his wayward son. Batman clamped down, reminding himself that this meant there had been bloodshed – Jason didn't play by Batman's rules. He had to admit that a part of him didn't even care.

When Batman left the car to make his approach on foot, he met with his son in the sky. He took Damian into his arms, holding him close. Damian squirmed and winced as Batman's hands moved over his injured shoulder. "You're hurt." Batman said curtly, not quite a reprimand.

Damian nodded without meeting his eyes.

Batman nodded as well, turning the boy around and sending him toward the Batmobile. "Where is Red Hood, didn't he follow you?" he asked, his expression blessedly hidden from his son.

Damian went still, turning to look at the horizon, as though he expected Jason to appear out of thin air. "N-no. He…" Damian hesitated, "He told me to run, so I ran."

Bruce Wayne felt terror grip his heart. He set the boy down in the car and then he was shooting off toward the way Damian had come. He couldn't even recall which ways he turned, but when he arrived at the warehouse, he felt just as he had all those years ago when approaching a different warehouse.

As he came upon the building, a black car raced toward him. Batman rolled out of the way, just as the car came upon him. Bullets rained down on his position and He was forced to spin farther and farther from the car. He threw a tracker onto the car haphazardly, before turning to deal with the thugs who had dared to harm his children.

Batman rose from the shadows and wrought havoc on their ranks, obliterating their resolve and fastening them with wire to keep them from fleeing. Only once that was done and all the thugs had been relieved of their weapons did he begin his real investigation. He dragged one of the smaller of the men to the top of the warehouse. Dangling the man over the edge, he spoke in a voice so low and threatening that the man instantly stopped squirming. Like a rat that freezes in the presence of a snake, the could only stare with open terror into the pitiless eyes of the cowl.

"Where is the Hood?" He asked, mercilessly letting the man drop a few feet to scare him.

"He- he's gone!" The man sputtered, trembling with fear.

Batman growled a warning and grabbed hold of the man's face. "What do you mean, gone?"

"We handed him over to the boss! He was in the car that just bolted out of here!"

Bruce Wayne cried out triumphantly from under the cowl, ready to race after the escaping vehicle. But Batman wasn't done yet. He shook the man again, eliciting a scream of fear. "Who is your boss, what does he want with the Hood?" His nerves were frayed and there may have been a slight tremble in his hands as he held the thug.

The man yelped again and held his hands up, "I don't know his name, they never told us. But they said…" he gulped and Batman shook him harder until he continued. "They said they wanted his blood..."

"His blood? What does that mean?" Batman asked, angrily, dropping the man another foot.

"I don't know! They wanted to test some kind of new drug, but no one has survived the process yet. They wanted the kid, but said they would settle for the bigger one. He… he was pretty beat up before we handed him over though."

Batman's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean 'beat up'?"

The man didn't meet those dark eyes, instead he said, "He fell. Got hit pretty bad with glass. Then… Well, down there." The man gestured hopelessly down to the alley below where Batman spotted a pool of blood mingling among the trash.

Jason. The name repeated itself in his mind, fear and terror welling up even as he withdrew from the roof. He dialed the police to clean up the thugs and then got on the com to Oracle. He would find his son, one way or another.

…