LET'S RUN THIS TOWN || JASON/DAMIAN || PART ONE
Title: Let's Run This Town
Universe: DCU
Pairings: Jason Todd/Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson/Damian Wayne (and later onesided!Dick Grayson/Damian Wayne), Tim Drake-Wayne/Dick Grayson.
Genre/s: Drama, hurt/angst, romance, action.
Rating: NC-17 overall; PG-15 this chapter.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
Notes: This chapter is mostly Dick/Damian and it might stay that way for another one or two chapters but I'll (hopefully) get to the Jason/Damian parts soon. Also, Damian is sixteen in this.
Warnings OVERALL: Sexual themes, under-age (Again, Damian is sixteen), coarse language, violence, and very screwed up relationships.
Warnings for this chapter: Mild violence and minor crude language.
Summary: It's been six years since Damian swore to follow the 'no-killing' oath. He's done good by that oath too. And then there's Jason Todd…
Reviews are much appreciated!
The communicator is crackling in Damian's ear.
Grayson's breathing steadily over the sound and Damian imagines the older man's mouth parted slightly with the cool Gotham air swirling past his nose. He can hear his own breath; each inhale and exhale as he scales buildings and lunges from flagpoles. The lights in Gotham are dingy and the moon illuminates most of the streets and few of the otherwise dark alleys. People, despite knowing the dangers of wandering around at this time of the night, bustle and shove past each other to finish whatever business they have and head home.
"It's a typical Gotham evening,"
Dick's voice interrupts the static and Damian feels the corner of his mouth twitch when he hears it and tries to wipe it off on his shoulder when he catches himself in a window's reflection.
"No, it isn't," he pauses, and then adds: "Idiot."
Dick laughs at him. It's a breathy, tired laugh and Damian can hear the flutter of his cape and the wail of an ambulance siren from the other side of the communicator. "You're right. We haven't had to stop a single criminal today."
"Not even a petty bank robbery," the annoyance hangs between Batman and Robin. There's relief laced in there - and worry. It could be nothing – or it could be a very, very big something.
"Should we call it a day?"
"Idiot,"
Damian knows that Grayson will translate that as: "Just one more round then we'll call it a day."
And it's a good day, at least until Damian spots a flash of red and the unmistakable glint of a sniper rifle.
The words are out of his mouth before he realises that he's speaking: "The Red Hood."
A heartbeat –
Then:
"Wait for me, Robin. I'm on my way."
"Tt! What if we lose him? I'm not risking it, Batman – just hurry up," Damian hears a small noise of annoyance and Dick doesn't even try to argue with him because he knows it's not going to work. The boy sprints across the rooftop; boots making a barely audible whump with each footfall and he skids to a stop at the edge, squinting into the alley below him. Sure enough, he sees the red helmet and the rifle –
The rifle is pointed right at his face.
Damian curses.
The Red Hood gives him an amiable wave.
Then he pulls the trigger.
Damian barely dodges the fast-approaching bullet, cart-wheeling clumsily away and when he twists around, he sees a gaping hole in his cape. Damian grits his teeth and the Red Hood laughs.
"I thought you didn't see me," Jason shifts the rifle on his shoulder and Damian imagines the smirk beneath that ridiculous helmet.
"I'm not blind or stupid, Todd,"
"Really? Because I think coming after me, given my reputation, would be considered stupid,"
"Come quietly, Todd, and I'll make sure you get the minimum punishment," Of course, there's no sincerity in the promise and the Red Hood laughs at him again. It's really getting on his nerves.
"You'll have to catch me first, baby-bird,"
"Don't call me-"
But he's already gone; running through the alley into the next conviently empty street. Damian fingers the communicator and follows the Red Hood without so much a second thought. He will not let himself be mocked by that psychotic criminal. "Batman – he's on the run again. Where are you?"
"Robin, stay put. I'm about thirty minutes away. You can't handle him by yourself!"
"Is that a challenge?"
"Robin, you know that's not what I mean,"
But it doesn't matter what Batman is saying anymore. All Damian hears is his blood pumping in his ears and his heartbeat.
Thdumpthdumpthdumpthdump—
"Get back here! I will maim you!" Already, he's got his batarangs between his knuckles and he remembers, vaguely, the 'no-killing-especially-if-it's-a-family-member' rule.
When he sees the Red Hood's left hand go up, middle finger raised in a lewd gesture, all logical thought and strict warnings, flies out of his head and he flings the batarangs – hard.
The way the Red Hood's body twitches tells Damian that he came to the conclusion that Damian really was going to kill him. Damian lands a hundred metres away from him and he charges while Jason is busy dodging the projectiles. He can hear Batman shouting something in his ear but he doesn't care. He's already pulling out the dagger that's hidden in his boot.
That's when the Red Hood, with surprising fluidity, strikes out with his right arm and catches Damian's knife hand. Before the boy can react, there's a knee in his chest and he's coughing and gasping for air. He can feel himself being held up off the ground by his wrist which is quickly losing feeling. There's a voice in his ear; low, rough and scathing. Damian shivers and gasps a little harder when another hand fumbles with his utility belt. "Let's see how well you can play without your little toys."
He hears the slight click of the buckle coming undone and the cold metal slides down his legs until it clatters loudly beneath him. He hears it being kicked away. It skids and scrapes against the concrete before hitting the brick wall across from them.
The communicator is next to go.
"Jason? [static] Jason, what [static] you doing to Robin?"
There's no response from the Red Hood except for a chuckle, and the communicator is crushed beneath his boot. When Damian lashes out blindly and his hand hits something, the Red Hood drops him abruptly. He lands on the cold ground hard and the wind is knocked out of him once more.
"Fuck you, Todd," is all he can croak out. The oxygen is finding its way back into his lungs and he's finding his way to his feet. "I will kill you. I will kill you slowly and painfully, and I will do it with my bare hands."
"You should know by now not to make promises you can't keep, baby-bird,"
"Don't call me that!" He's snarling and lunging and the Red Hood meets each and every strike with a block and jeering comment:
"Come on, you can do better than that!"
"I thought you could kill me in one-hundred different ways!"
"Is that all?"
"You've lost your touch."
You've lost your touch.
What?
What was he trying to say?
That Damian wasn't good enough? The he had lost his ferocity?
No, it was still there – that angry burn in his throat; the violent flare in the pit of his stomach. And Damian isn't sure why, but his kick goes wayward and he hears the distinctive crack of a breaking rib and the Red Hood makes a pained grunt.
"I haven't lost anything, Todd," Damian spits when he regains his balance. The Red Hood straightens slowly, body tense, and he reaches up over his head to pull off his helmet. Damian watches him warily and scowls when Jason has the gall to grin as he casts the helmet to the side.
He grins at Damian and says: "I thought you were going to kill. Or don't you want to?"
"Oh, trust me, Todd. I want to."
"Okay, so you want to – but can you?"
Damian gives out an angry cry and raises his fist over head to—
Crack.
He doesn't feel his leg give way beneath him at first - only the surreal sensation of falling forward and not knowing what's going on. How did Jason do that? How could he have made a move without Damian noticing? He's not that good – is he?
When he hits the ground again, he feels the pain explode from his shattered kneecap and he howls.
Crack.
His right arm goes icy-cold and numb next, and he hears the sickening sound of his shoulder joint popping out its place. He chokes on his cry and everything burns.
"Stop! Fuck – guh-goddammit, Todd!"
And then that voice, that rough, scathing voice, is near his ear again and there's an uncomfortable weight on his bruised chest. "You said you would kill me, baby-bird," there's a hand tracing up his inner thigh. Up and down, up and down. "When was the last time you've killed someone? Five – six years ago?" The Red Hood's hand stops on his shattered kneecap and he presses down until Damian gives a strangled groan. A hand closes around his throat and squeezes. The hand on his thigh has disappeared and the sharp edge of Jason's knife is pushing against his Kevlar-protected side. "Me? I've been in the business longer than you've been alive. Like I said – you've lost your touch, baby-bird. You can maim, maybe. But that's it."
The pressure disappears and the Red Hood straightens over his battered form. "You're not in my league. You never will be. You've lost that bloodlust, y'know? And that's no fun," he pauses dramatically before turning his back on him. "Dickie will be here soon. He'll patch you up."
Jason peers over his shoulder when he's halfway up the dilapidated building not too far away and flashes Damian a toothy grin. "Don't come after me again."
"-amian...Are you awake?"
Damian only groans in response. He's just so damn groggy he can't bring himself to cough up an answer let alone open his eyes. A shadow shifts over his face and the voice:
"Damian, please – wake up. I-"
So that's who it was. Dick Grayson.
Of course.
Damian almost tuts.
"Damian, if you are awake, c-can you p-please say something?"
Was he crying? Damian opens his eyes this time, just so he can glare at the man. He loses focus at first. The white hospital lights have him blinking franticly to stop the sudden well of tears in his over-stimulated eyes. Almost immediately, there's a loud scuffle - a chair scrapping and falling backwards, the creak of his bed when Dick's hands latch franticly onto his bed sheets and heavy breathing.
Suddenly, Dick's face blocks the light above Damian's face and Damian is taken aback by how aged Dick looks. His face is gaunt and drawn, unshaven, and his eyes are bloodshot and tired; rimmed with the obvious purple-grey due to lack of sleep.
"Damian? You – you're awake," Damian rolls his eyes
"Yes," his voice is awkward and hoarse. He clears his throat and the gestures for the water sitting next to him but Dick's already reaching for it. "Yes, thank you, Grayson, for stating the obvious."
"I," Dick flushes and reaches up to pull the oxygen mask off Damian's face so that the boy can down the whole glass of water. "Sorry. It's just been a while. I didn't know how long you were going to be out for."
Damian quirks a brow over the glass, "A 'while'? Define 'a while', Grayson."
"About a week. Honestly, we all thought you wouldn't wake until even later," Dick gives him a watery smile but Damian can him struggling and before he can even think, he's reaching up and cupping Dick's cheek. Dick reacts instantly to the touch, turning his face slightly so his nose bumps Damian's thumb and he places a slow, hard kiss in hollow of his palm. "He broke you so much. When I found you I thought I was too late."
Dick inhales deeply and Damian watches his face carefully. "Why couldn't you just stay put and wait when I told you too?"
"Because," Damian pulls away but Dick catches his wrist and kisses his palm again; breathing in his scent. Damian sighs. "Because who knew what he was planning. I had to go after him. I-" He pauses and squints at Dick. "What happened to Todd, anyway?"
Dick makes a pained expression. "We've been out, every day and night, looking for Jason. We're trying so hard to find him." He finally lets Damian's hand drop from his face and he pinches the bridge of his nose. "But I mean, once a Robin, always a Robin. He's too good; even for Tim. He can't even pick up a trail."
"Tt! Well, you two better find him first because once I'm up, I'm going to hunt him down and I swear to you, Grayson, I will kill him," Dick smiles again, but this time, it lights up his face and he leans over to place his lips on Damian's. Damian grunts but pushes up into the kiss.
"Thank God you're awake," Dick says quietly against his mouth and Damian kisses him again to shut him up. He feels Dick smirk and his hand pushing him gently back down into his pillows. "Get back to sleep, okay? I have to go back out on patrol. I'll visit you tomorrow."
"I've been asleep for a week," Damian growls as he watches Dick saunter out the hospital room, and halting a nurse in her tracks to inform her that Damian had woken up. He huffs and glares, eyes not leaving the door until Dick had disappeared completely from view and the sounds of his squeaking shoes had finally faded out.
Only then does he allow himself a pleased, little smirk and reach for the card and small kitten plush Dick had left discretely on his bedside table. "Idiot,"
