"No, I'm not patrolling with Drake!" Everyone was staring at him, but he didn't care. He just repeated what he had said previously. "I'm not patrolling with Drake, no way, no how."

"Grow up Damian", his father said with a roll of eyes, "You have to go with Tim. Dick and I are needed at the League meeting. Just go out with him for a couple hours."

"I'm not exactly thrilled about this either Damian", Tim snapped, "can't the little demon just go on his own."

"No", Bruce replied, "He can't."

'Why not", Damian snapped.

"You're too young. Dick and Tim didn't start going out on their own until they were fifteen, Jason neither." Damian sniffed.

"Lot of good it did him."

"Why don't I just go alone", Tim pleaded.

"No", Damian snapped, "I'm not staying in tonight. There's nothing to do around the house."

"Come on teddy bear, just go with him. It's only for one night", Dick inveigled.

"Fine" Damian muttered.

"Good", Bruce said in a matter of fact voice, "Come on Dick, let's go." With that, he pulled up his cowl and started towards the Batwing, Dick in his wake. "Ohh yea, and Damian, if Tim tells me you didn't follow orders, you're in trouble. Behave, both of you." Tim gave Damian a smug grin.

"Teddy bear", he teased, to which the boy wonder responded by leaping at his older counterpart. Tim slid away, feline on his feet, and dropped to a fighting crouch. "You wanna play like that?" he challenged, eyes glittering. Damian grunted and turned on his heel, stalking away.

"Lets just get going." Satisfied, Tim tossed his hair and moved smoothly off to get dressed.

000000

Robin crouched low beside Red Robin, arching his shoulders back and shifting his weight as if preparing to pounce. "Wait", Red Robin cautioned in a whisper, lifting a hand to steady his younger partner. Robin snarled.

"They're right there", he spat impatiently, "let's go."

"Not yet", Red Robin reiterated, "Wait" Robin huffed and settled himself, he emphasis on the final word obvious and irritatingly overbearing. If there was one thing Robin hated, it was being told what to do.

"Go", Red Robin ordered and Robin needed no more encouragement. Foreward he leapt, beating his older counterpart into the fray by a few seconds, which, in the speed of these things, seemed like almost hours. Flowing like the tide, they slid through opponents in perfect synchrony, drilled into them through countless hours of training. The thugs barely had a chance and soon, they were cuffed and gagged together.

"See", Red Robin said haughtily, "if we hadn't waited, they might have made more noise. We need to do our best not to tip off the next set. If Penguin is having his top secret meeting like we think he is, he'll have at least one more set of these waiting and it pays to surprise them."

"Yea, yea", Robin replied with a wave of his hand as he started up the stairs to the next level of the building, "lets just keep going."

"How many times do I have to tell you to stay behind me!" Red Robin snapped, grabbing Robin by the shoulders and shoving him roughly backwards. "I go first." Robin gave a snarl and leapt angrily at Red Robin, but the older man swung around and kicked him hard, sending him spiraling away. "Quit being so moody and behave yourself", he barked, "this is dangerous and you're going to get us killed."

"It would be easier if you didn't have such a bloated head", Robin spat back, "quit acting like you know everything."

"Tonight, you're to treat me as if I do. Lets go." Grumbling angrily, Robin followed him up the stairs, wondering hopefully if Penguin's goons could simply take Red Robin out. How much did goons cost anyway? His father did have tons of money.

All night, they had been fighting through level after level of goons and Robin didn't enjoy it half as much as he usually did. Fighting with Nightwing was usually enjoyable and even fighting with his father could be fun. But, fighting with Red Robin was like sitting on a pincushion, especially because Red Robin liked nothing better than to remind Robin who was boss.

"I'll snap his neck when we get home", Robin muttered to himself as they rounded the final bend. He ran headlong into Red Robin's back. "You moron, what do you think you're…" but he got no further because Red Robin's hand clamped over his mouth, effectively ending his tirade. He turned to the younger boy and put a finger to his lips, indicating the doorway.

Just a little ways off were the Penguin and his goons, their backs to the two heroes. Robin gave him a dark look, but didn't speak another word when Red Robin removed his hand. Lowering themselves to the ground, they cautiously crept across the room to a sheltered corner.

"Wah, wah, now", the Penguin said, "I think we ought to wah, wah, close the wah, wah, deal at wah, wah, thirteen wah million wah. Don't you think, wah, wah, Bat boys?"

"Shit!" Red Robin cursed, but he didn't have time to say anything else because at that moment, machine gun bullets erupted around him and the boy wonder. Almost instinctively, Red Robin reached out and grabbed Robin, drawing him close to shield him from the barrage before rolling out of range, the younger boy still clutched tightly to his chest.

Red Robin released his charge as soon as they were in a slightly safer place and took off, crawling on his belly as swiftly as he could, to the hallway, Robin in his wake. "Here I wah, wah come", the Penguin cried wickedly, "ready or wah, wah not." The bullets started up again, all around them, and Red Robin knew they weren't going to last much longer trying to duck and cover. They would have to take it at a run.

He was just about to leap up when he heard a shrill cry of agony. Swinging around, he saw Robin, clutching desperately at his hip with pain and terror in his eyes. "Go", the younger boy screamed.

"Yea right", Red Robin replied, scrambling up to rush his protégé's side, all the while dodging bullets. He scooped up Robin and held him tightly as he rushed for the hallway, where there would be the twists and turns of the walls for cover. Though a few bullets nicked him, he managed to make it to safety, skidding behind a wall.

Red Robin stood in place for a moment, panting and clutching Robin. "We gotta hide", he said fervently after only a moment to catch his breath, and took off again at a run, cradling the injured boy wonder. Seeing a room at the end of the hall, he gave a final burst of speed and slid in.

"Alright", Red Robin said, putting Robin down on the floor in a corner behind some boxes, "Penguin's gonna find us soon. We only have a few minutes at best. How bad is it?" Robin remained as stoic as he could while Red Robin probed the wound, though the older man noticed the grunts of pain the younger did his best to mask. "Alright, that bullet's lodged right next to your femoral artery. You can't risk running with it in there. I gotta take it out."

"Do it", Robin hissed, teeth bared in pain. Red Robin nodded and heaved Robin as gently as he could onto his lap, wrapping one arm tightly around him. "Hold onto me", he began soothingly, "go ahead and squeeze as hard as you need to. This is gonna hurt pretty bad."

Robin nodded and pressed his head to Red Robin's stomach before clutching the older man's arm tightly with his small hands. "Ready?" Red Robin asked, tweezers hovering over Robin's wound. The boy wonder nodded and braced himself. Red Robin was quick, going down smoothly and drawing back out a blood-covered bullet. Robin's breathing quickened and he squeezed as hard as he could before going limp in Red Robin's arms. He gave the tiniest whimper and then fell silent.

"Good boy", Red Robin said, patting the boy's side, before swiftly dressing his wound as best he could with a strip of his cape, "Good boy." He stood up slowly, helping a shaky Robin to his feet. "We can't risk painkillers", Red Robin apologized, "They'll make you too drowsy and complacent. You'll have to wait until we get out of here."

"Fine", Robin snarled, "lets just get that stupid Penguin."

"Hold on", Red Robin said, "I'll go back and get the Penguin later, you've had enough for tonight, I'm taking you home."

"What!" Robin snapped, "No, I'm fine, I'm staying with you."

"Absolutely not", Red Robin replied. Robin crossed his arms and stood strong and proud, refusing to budge. "You pig headed little idiot", Red Robin growled, "You were the reason this whole thing fell though in the first place. If you had just kept your fat mouth shut we wouldn't be in this…GET DOWN!"

Red Robin tackled Robin, shoving him earthward, just as a barrage of bullets erupted overhead. "Wah, wah, wah", the Penguin laughed in glee, "You're pinned boys wah. You're not getting out of wah, wah this one wah."

"Shit", Red Robin cursed again, covering his head as pieces of the wall toppled down on him and Robin. He shoved the boy roughly under himself, shielding him from falling debris with his body, and crouched lower.

"What are we gonna do?" Robin whispered ardently. Though his voice dripped in disdain, Red Robin could hear the terror threatening to surface. Already, the boy was trembling against Red Robin's chest as he crouched beneath him. They were stuck.

"It'll be alright", Red Robin soothed, "We'll get out of this somehow. I'll think of something. Just hang tight for a sec." Robin felt a little better that Red Robin seemed to be taking control of the situation and obediently fell silent.

"Alright", Red Robin said, "We gotta make a break for the door. It's the only way. Stay between me and the wall and stay low. I'll do my best to cover you." Robin nodded. "We go on three", Red Robin said, "One…two…three!" The two heroes burst from cover like quails abandoning a compromised nest and rushed as fast as they could to the door and freedom. Robin shot through like a bullet while Red Robin lingered, taking down a few of the thugs so Robin could make clean his escape. Then, they started down the hallways.

"Run wah stupid bats wah, wah run", Penguin screamed after the retreating forms of Robin and Red Robin. It was then that Robin's temper flared up again. He was sick of running, sick of the terror and absolutely furious that he had been made to look weak and frightened in front of Red Robin. He would have no more retreating that night.

"Bastards", the ten year old roared, pivoting in place to fly again at his soon to be ex-attackers.

"Robin no", Red Robin screamed angrily, but it was too late, Robin was already deep in the fray, punching and kicking at high speed, leaping around as if to defy the laws of gravity themselves. Red Robin gave a howl of frustration and leapt in after the younger boy. He couldn't just let Robin get killed, however much the boy deserved it.

Soon enough, they had fought off most of the Penguin's goons and Red Robin was beginning to think that perhaps they would escape Robin's folly unscathed. It was then that the boy wonder's leg gave out from under him and he toppled slightly. The thugs knew they wouldn't have another chance. Training their semi automatics on him, they let off a barrage. Robin was frozen in terror, staring death in the face.

But, there was still one ally of his capable of movement. At the last second, Red Robin shoved his younger counterpart out of the way. His body jolted artificially as twenty bullets invaded his flesh before falling still at Robin's feet. "Tim" Robin screamed.

(Author's note: I know, he should have screamed Red Robin, but you know what, that's just stupid. When you see someone die at your feet, you don't go screaming? three whole syllables. Why does his name have to be three fucking syllables anyway It's pointless. It's so much I have to type. If you're a superhero, you shouldn't be allowed to have more than two syllables in your name, am I right? And who came up with Red Robin? That's the dumbest name ever. I can't just call him red because, golly gee, there's a Red Hood (who at least has the decency to keep his name to a conservative two syllables) and I can't call him Robin because, guess what, there's a Robin too! There's no way to shorten his name. You can call Nightwing Wing (or wingy, which is what me and my sister squeal in the middle of the night when we're brainstorming story ideas) and you can call Robin Rob and you can call Batman Bats. But Red Robin is stuck in the formality of his full name. Stupid Timmy. Be a little more original, come now. You could have been sparrow or swift or chickadee (if he was gonna pick something gay like Red Robin anyway) or owl or a million other species of birds. You could have been Dodo bird for chrissake. Anything's better than Red Robin. Well, whatever, I'm done with my rant. DC, you suck. Back to the story)

Robin leapt with a snarl at Red Robin's attackers, driving them away. Seeing a furious and frenzied boy rushing at them, the remaining conscious thugs and the Penguin took off, rushing away from what they were sure was the scene of a murder. Robin stood panting for a moment before turning tail and racing back to Red Robin's side. Already, the older man's eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow.

"Tim!" Robin said softly, hesitantly, giving the older man a gentle shove, "Timmy, wake up. Please wake up. Tim!" But, Tim didn't even stir. He lay painfully still, his breathing growing ever fainter. Blood gushed from his many gunshot wounds and his limbs were sprawled at odd angles. Robin knelt by his side, trembling and whimpering. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

The boy didn't know what to do; he felt so lost. He had never expected something like this would happen. Here Red Robin was, dying right in front of him, having taken the bullets meant for the foolish ten year old. He couldn't leave but he couldn't stay. What would his father do when he found his dead son? What would Dick do when he saw his dead brother? What could he tell them?

"What am I gonna do?" Robin cried softly, shaking with sobs. 'Please don't leave me Tim, please. I don't know what to do. Tim, I'm scared, I need you." Robin put his head down on Red Robin's chest, tears seeping into the older hero's wounds as the boy wonder quivered, lost and alone. Then, Red Robin's heart stopped.

What followed was a haze of chest compression and mouth-to-mouth in between calling Batman, Nightwing, Gordon and anyone else Robin could think of to come and save him and Red Robin. Robin had never remembered feeling so scared or helpless in his whole life.

When Nightwing and Batman finally showed up, having been flown there at top speed by Superman, Robin's father took over the CPR while Nightwing cradled a frightened, sobbing and swiftly going into shock Robin before shuffling him out at Batman's request. The paramedic's arrived just as Nightwing was hoisting Robin up to take him home.

Lying in his bed back at the manor, Damian remembered all of this. He was warm and safe, after taking a bath and being thoroughly cuddled and consoled by Dick. But now, he was alone. His older brother had been torn between rushing off to the hospital to be with Red Robin and fulfilling his obligation to Damian by staying with him. Damian had told him to go to Tim; he would be fine.

In reality he would have liked nothing better than to be held in Dick's gentle arms for a while and soothed more, but Dick wanted to go and Damian, knowing it was his fault Tim had fallen, wasn't going to be the one to keep his brother away.

So now, he lay alone in the darkness, staring up at the roof and wondering whither Tim was even still alive. Then, he heard the sound of pounding on the stairs up from the cave. He sat straight up before crawling out of his bed and scrambling to the balcony. Bruce's sigh of relief reached his small ears and felt like a run through the sprinklers on a hot day.

"The doctors say he's gonna be just fine, but it's a good thing the paramedics got there when they did."

"It's a good thing Damian started doing CPR when he did", Dick cut in, "The kid's pretty shook up though." Bruce nodded.

"I shouldn't have had them go out."

"How could you have known", Dick consoled, putting a hand on his shoulder, "Tim's an adult. This kind of thing rarely happens and he's so careful."

"Well", Bruce continued, sounding more tired than his son had ever heard before, "At least now we've got him down in the cave. He won't be up for a while, but he's going to be awake soon at least." Dick nodded.

"Why don't we go up and talk to Damian. I don't want him to loose his nerve after this." Bruce nodded and they started up the stairs. Damian had the good sense to rush back into his bedroom and dive into bed. He closed his eyes and had just slowed his breathing when his father and older brother came in and turned on the lights.

Damian opened his eyes slowly to simulate just waking up, blinking swiftly and opening his mouth wide in a pseudo yawn. "Hey baby bird", Dick crooned tenderly, sitting on one side of his bed. Bruce settled on the other, smiling gently at his son. Damian sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes.

"Tim…?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Is fine", Bruce finished, putting a hand on his son's shoulder, "Thanks to your quick work, he's gonna be just fine. I'm really proud of you son."

"But it was my fault", Damian whimpered. "He told me to run, but Penguin just made me so angry, so I jumped back and attacked him. Then, my hurt leg gave out and I would have died if it hadn't been for Tim. Those bullets were meant for me."

"Wait", Bruce said, "Hurt leg? Did you get shot too?" Damian nodded.

"I guess I just missed it", Dick said, "but I didn't really look him over either. Sorry about that little d." Damian shook his head.

"It's not bad. Worry about Tim, not me."

"Let me see", Bruce instructed, and Damian obediently allowed his father to look over the wound.

"Tim did a good job of getting the bullet out", Dick commented. "We'll want to disinfect this and dress it properly, but it'll be fine. I'll go get some bandages and antiseptic." With that, he got up, leaving Damian alone in the room with his father, whom the boy couldn't even look in the eye.

"Damian", Bruce said gently, "I know you feel responsible for what happened, but things like this do occur on occasion. It's a high-risk job, what we do, and accidents are frequent. You should have listened to Tim's orders, but you shouldn't beat yourself up too much over what happened. Just do better next time."

"But he could have died", Damian wailed, loosing control in the heat of emotion, "And it would have been all my fault. Then, you would have hated me."

"I wouldn't have hated you", Bruce replied, drawing the boy onto his lap, "You're my son, I can never hate you. It wasn't like you were trying to get him killed. It was just an accident. Accidents happen Damian and they're going to just keep happening. Your job is just to move on and learn from your mistakes."

"You aren't angry with me?" Damian asked, looking up at his father with wide blue eyes.

"Actually", Bruce said, "I'm not to happy with you at all right now, but I think you've been through enough and anything I do will just be damaging. We might talk about it a little later though son. However, what you need to focus on now is healing." He stoked his son's cheek with the back of hand and Damian gave a heavy sigh. Dick came back with the bandages and disinfectant.

"Alright", he said, "Lets get you cleaned up little one." Damian lay with his head on his father's lap as Dick slowly cleaned and bandaged his wound. "There you go." He patted his younger brother's leg and lowered his head to kiss the injury. "Now, time for you to go to sleep."

Bruce gently scooped Damian up while Dick fixed the bed and pulled back the covers. The Dark Knight's hips swayed slightly and he hummed some tune unknown to Damian while he rocked him. Damian could feel his eyelids drooping already, soothed by his father's steady heartbeat and the sound of his voice, as well as the fluid motion of his body.

When the bed was done, Damian left the security of his father's arms and was placed on the bed. Dick tucked him in and kissed his forehead. "Goodnight teddy bear", he crooned, "I love you. Try not to blame yourself too much for what happened." Bruce leaned down and kissed his son as well before speaking softly to him.

"I can sit with you for a while if you'd like." Damian shook his head.

"I'll be ok. Thank you father. I love you." Bruce smiled.

"I love you too." With that, both men left the room and Damian lay alone in the darkness. After a few hours of tossing and turning and general lack of any sort of murmurings of sleep, Damian got up and tossed his covers aside in disgust. Before he even thought about sleep, there was something he needed to do.

Creeping through the manor, he snuck past his father, who was reading in the living room in front of the fire and Dick, who was just heading off to bed. He skulked down the stairs to the cave and paused for a moment before entering. Tim was sleeping quietly, hooked up to an IV. His lips moved slightly in his slumber, but he engaged in no other motion.

Damian padded up to the bed and poked Tim in the nose. "Drake", he hissed. Tim made a hand motion as if swatting a fly and rolled over. "Drake", Damian snapped, a little louder this time, and gave him a jab in the side. Tim yelped and sat straight up. His eyes fell on his younger brother.

"Damn you Damian", he snapped, "What the hell do you want?"

"If you must know Drake", Damian replied, drawing himself up to full height, "There has been a change in policy around here."

"Ohh really", Tim queried sarcastically, "And what might that be?"

"There is a new rule", Damian continued, "which pertains directly to you."

"What?"

"You are not allowed to die."

"What", Tim snapped, "you just made that up."

"That matters naught", Damian replied haughtily, "I am Father's biological son and you are merely his adopted son. Therefore, I have the power of rule making and I say you aren't allowed to die."

"I'll die if I want to", Tim replied.

"You can't."

"Of course I can."

"No, you can't."

"Yes, I can."

"No, you may not."

"You know what Damian, I'll do whatever I damn well like. If I want to… Wait, did you say I'm not allowed to die?"

"If you'd learn to use those big things sticking out of the side of your head, you'd know."

"So, you're saying you're not permitting me to die?"

"That is correct." Tim paused for a moment, head cocked as if trying to wrap his mind around the concept.

"You thought I was going to die tonight, didn't you?"

"I just came down to inform you of the change in policy", Damian replied, turning abruptly around, "I have to return to bed now."

"Damian", Tim called after him, "Wait." Damian slowly came back over tentatively, though he did his best to add swagger and assure he was not taken as weak in any way. "You were really scared, weren't you?" Damian looked pointedly away. "You saved my life, didn't you? You gave me CPR when my heart stopped. You saved my life." Damian shrugged.

"All in the line of duty", he muttered. Tim reached out and put a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Thank you", he said softly. And then, Damian shocked him. He dove up onto the bed and wrapped his arms around Tim's waist, burying his head into the older man's chest. Tim was flabbergasted.

"Don't leave me", Damian whispered so that Tim just barely heard. Tim just sat there, stiff and confused for about half a minute before his wits came back and he put his arms around his younger brother.

"It'll be ok kiddo", he said softly, "I'm not going anywhere." Tim and Damian remained in their somewhat awkward embrace for about a minute more before Damian drew back.

"You protected me", he said softly, looking away, "Like my father and Dick do."

"Yea", Tim said, "that kinda surprised me too. It sort of came as kind of an instinct, you know, shielding you and stuff tonight. I guess I just did what Dick or Bruce would have done for me. But you know, I was scared to death too."

"You didn't seem it."

"Are you kidding me", Tim exclaimed. "It sucks being responsible for someone. I don't know how Bruce does it for so many kids. It's so scary; you feel like you do one thing wrong and they'll die or something. I mean, when it's just me, I'm the only one I have to worry about. If something happens to me, so what. But, when you're there, I take full responsibility for whatever happens.

I have to keep my cool and always come up with the plan and not freak out or anything. If I let anything happen to you, Bruce and Dick would murder me. I kinda wish I were still little so they could, you know, look after me."

"An awful lot of people would care if something happened to you", Damian murmured, looking away.

"Would…would you be one of them?" Tim asked timidly. Damian nodded slowly and Tim smiled. "I guess we can't live with each other but we can't live without each other either, huh?" Damian nodded and leaned back into Tim's embrace. Tim stroked his back. "I'll do my best to follow your rule", Tim said, "If you'll do your best to follow mine."

"What rule?" Damian asked.

"You're not allowed to die either, deal?"

"Deal", Damian said, giving him a small grin.

"And I promise to always watch your back if you'll watch mine." Damian nodded. He held out a hand to shake and Tim took it.

"It makes sense for us to band together" Damian said, "After all, Grayson and father get into way to much trouble for their own good and it will probably take both of us to look after them properly." Tim giggled.

"You're right. Dick thinks he's gonna go out all legit but I just know one of these days he's gonna choke on a spoon while eating that nasty Crockies cereal and everyone's gonna be giggling at his funeral." Damian snickered.

"And father will accidentally be hit on the head with a driver at one of his corporate golf games." They shared another hushed giggle together in the dimly lit cave, the feeling foreign and somehow satisfying to both.

"I guess I shouldn't have been to surprised that I was looking after you tonight through", Tim said softly after they had gained their composure, "After all, you are my little brother, even if we spend most of our lives denying it. We're still family." Damian nodded and sat back, legs folded beneath him.

"I suppose we are fairly lucky", the boy said, "We have Grayson and Father and each other. Todd doesn't have anyone." Tim snorted.

"That's his fault. He just doesn't know what he's missing out on." They were silent for a moment.

"Do you…do you wanna stay for a while?" Tim asked, "It's kinda lonely down here."

"Ok", Damian said, "I'll protect you." Tim smiled and lay down on his side. Damian lay down next to him and put his head on the older hero's side, pressing up against his back. Tim rolled over and encouraged Damian to doze in embrace, an invitation the son of the Batman took gratefully. It was the first time he had ever snuggled with Tim, but he wasn't too much different from Dick.

"This truce ends in the morning though, agreed?"

"Naturally", Damian replied, "We'll go back to hating each other then."

"And if Dick comes down…?"

"We beat him to a pulp until he forgets what he saw."

"Sounds good. What about Bruce?"

"The same."

"Your dad's a little harder to beat up."

"Then, we'll hit him with knock out gas and I suppose he's your father too." Tim smirked.

"Ok." They lay in silence for a moment, Damian's breathing matching Tim's. "Hey", Tim said, cutting through the silence, "before we go back to trying to kill each other in the morning, can we exchange the l word, just once, for posterity's sake."

"Fine, I love you Tim."

"I love you too Damian and don't worry, Bruce has plenty of love for both of us." With that, they both fell quietly asleep.