It was a slow night in Gotham. Nothing but small time criminals out, petty thieves, muggers, the usual creeps roughing up women. That was rarely a good sign. It meant guys like Two-Face or Black Mask were off licking their wounds somewhere and plotting, if they weren't currently in prison or Arkham. But the night was still young, so maybe it had something in store for Damian.
He stood on the corner ledge of a tall building, looking out over the city below him. The streets looked hazy from this high up, filled with the unpleasant yellow street lights and smog. If Gotham ever got nuked it wouldn't be a shame. Ever since he was young he questioned his father's obsession with preserving this pathetic city. He hated him for making him care about it and see the rare good in it Was such a miniscule amount of hope worth keeping this beast of a city alive?
A shout in the night caught his attention as a young woman and man got cornered by a group of thugs in an alley below. The man tried throwing a punch but was easily outnumbered by the gang of four. Two of the men threw the man on the ground and began kicking and stomping on him. The woman shrieked in horror and cowered as the other two men approached her with knives drawn.
Damian gritted his teeth as he repelled down to the alley. He hated seeing an uneven fight and he knew if it was just one of those guys alone that they wouldn't have the balls to start a fight with anyone. Being in a group made them feel safe and strong, it gave them mob mentality. Not for long.
He landed silently on a fire escape behind the group, then took aim at one of the men curb-stomping the man on the ground. With his grapple hook he was able to hook the leg of thug #1 as he raised it again to kick the man on the ground. His loud scream echoed off the alley walls as he was pulled upside down into the air but not before his head cracked against the pavement.
"Fuck, is it Bats?" Asked thug #2 while holding a knife to the crying woman.
That pissed Damian off more. He threw his batarangs at the thieve's hands, not taking much care to disarm them without harm. One hit a thug in the hand, another took off a finger. More screams as blood poured from their hands.
"It's Nightwing!" yelled thug #3, as if it mattered anymore. Either way, they knew they were fucked. Thug #2, with a batarang still lodged in his hand, tried running, but Damian jumped down and quickly knocked him off his feet with his escrima sticks. Next was thug #3 still next to the young man. His attack was sloppy and amatuer, his stance left him completely open as he swung at Damian. In one fluid move Damian sidestepped the punch and jabbed the man in the stomach then delivering a quick blow to the back of his head. The thug fell to the ground with a moan and stayed there.
Now it was one on one. Damian wondered what the man would do. Would he try running? Beg for mercy? Thug #4 looked pale and scared shitless. His eyes darted each direction, trying to look for an out. Yep, no balls. Damian walked slowly towards the thug, each step intimidating the man further, which pleased Damian. He should fear him. All of the thugs in this city should.
"Fuck this!" Cried the thug as he fumbled in jacket to draw a gun. Damian closed the gap within seconds and knocked the gun out of the man's bloody hand while twisting his arm holding the knife. Both weapons fell to the ground with a clang and Damian locked eyes with thug #4. Pure fear. Good.
There was a sickening pop and crunch as Damian twisted the man's good hand. The thug fell to his knees with a scream and cried. Just as he looked up to beg for mercy, Damian punched him in the face. Another crunch as his nose broke under the force of the blow and he fell onto the dirty alleyway floor.
Damian didn't stick around for long after the fight. The man definitely needed medical attention and the woman was obviously shaken. He radioed the police their location to pick up the thugs and left without a word. Neither of the young couple said thank you to him but he was used to it at this point. It was often a thankless job.
The rest of the night went smoothly as he picked up an attempted rapist and a guy that tried mugging someone at an ATM. It was definitely slow, which caused some unease in Damian. After eight years in Gotham, he knew that calm was often followed by a storm. Before he would let his ego cloud his judgement and it made him sloppy, often resulting in serious injury on his part. He was lucky back then, he had Bruce around to save his skin when he got in trouble. Bruce or Dick.
Thinking of either man left a sour taste in his mouth. The more he tried not to think of them the harder it was to keep them out of his mind. Bruce was… well he was Bruce. Stubborn as ever the older he got and currently not speaking to him.
Dick was his greatest ally when it came to Bruce. Whenever they had a spat Dick could help mediate something between them. But they didn't have that luxury anymore. Dick was gone.
Damian's stomach rolled at the thought and he tried burying the thought as quickly as it came to mind. Slow nights made it even harder. His chest felt heavy and breathing became hard as that night flashed in his mind. Seeing Dick lying on the ground, unmoving…
Damian bit into his lip hard enough to draw blood. Focus on the physical pain, that pain he could control. Damian wasn't remotely religious but he prayed to any diety to send him some thugs to beat to a pulp. Anything to keep his mind and body busy. Send him someone.
He scouted Gotham for hours looking for something. Someone. Anything. Finally as he was debating turning in for the night his receiver crackled to life. There was a robbery in progress at a QuickStop near him. Relief washed over him as he heard the details. Multiple armed robbers, all heavily armed. Finally.
Getting to the convenience store took less than five minutes and he quickly began scoping out the situation. Roughly seven guys wearing doll masks were emptying the register, the small strong box, and stealing various snacks and drinks.
"Full automatics seem a little excessive for robbing a convenience store," Damian mused aloud. The men looked armed to the teeth. Unfortunately this was almost the new normal for Gotham. Instead of vigilantes curbing crime, the bad guys just got fancier toys and dressed for war.
Damian rappelled down onto the roof of the store and prepared focused in on the lookout. He threw a batarang to the right of the man, causing him to jump and turn around. As he did, Damian quickly swooped down to the left of him, knocking him out with his escrima sticks. He grabbed the man's ankles and pulled him to the side of the store to hide him from the other's sight.
There were three doors to the store. The front, a fire exit, and a backdoor for employees. The front door would give away his position but it could also provide a distraction. The fire exit most likely had an alarm attached to it and the backdoor was locked and it would take time to pick the lock. Sometimes the obvious is the least obvious.
Damian waited for another doll-mask to pass the front door before rushing in. The door had a bell to alert when it opened, which drew the men's attention. So much for least obvious. Keeping low between the isles, he began the task of taking down each masked man. He was able to take down three of the thieves before the others even realized what was going on.
"Hurry up and get the cash, we need to get the fuck out of here!" One robber said.
"Where's Johnson with the damn van?" yelled one of the men carrying a small duffel bag of cash.
Damian lunged for the man with the duffel but was stopped short by the third and final robber. This one was different though, not armed with a gun but a sword, and he towered over the rest of the robbers, including Damian. What the hell…
Before he could react the robber swung the sword towards him and caught him in the chest. Shit, they're fast! Collecting himself, Damian couldn't hide his smile. This is what he waited all night for. He pulled at his escrima sticks and turned them on, electricity crackling over their surface. A honk from a van came from outside and the two gun-wielding men took off for the front door.
In the split second Damian took to look their way, the robber with the sword swung at him again. He was prepared for the speed this time though, dodging out of the way and swinging his escrima stick back. The robber easily danced out of the way of the attack and retaliated.
For what felt like forever, that's how the fight went-each taking a shot while the other deflected their attack. Damian's anger grew as he realized they were evenly matched. Who the hell was this guy? A new big bad in Gotham?
Damian made the first mistake. His swing was fueled by annoyance and provided a small opening which the man exploited immediately. Pain shot through Damian as the tip of the sword pierced a weak area in his suit and slid into his flesh. He immediately jumped back and put distance between him and the robber. Who is this guy?
The horn honked again and the large man looked to the door. Even though he wore a mask, Damian could tell from his body language that he was bored. He clenched his jaw and tried keeping the bubbling anger in check. No more stupid mistakes.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" He shouted as the man turned his back to him and walked to the door. Damian ran after him and threw one of his escrima sticks at the man. Without turning, he sidestepped and swung around. Damian attempted to swing at him with his remaining stick but the man caught his forearm and used his momentum to send Damian sailing into a wall.
He could feel blood run down his forehead as he tried standing back up to face the masked hulk. Standing wasn't going well for him, as he staggered and swayed to his feet. The large robber grabbed him by the throat before slamming him back into the wall again.
"Weak," said a mechanized voice from behind the doll mask. The man drew his sword again, pointing it towards Damian's throat. He could feel the sting of the blade draw blood as the tip dug in. Who the hell is this guy…?
The robber turned away and seemed to be talking to someone behind him. Damian couldn't hear as the blood rushed in his ears and his vision was darkening. That guy threw him really hard. Was he a metahuman? No normal person had that kind of strength…
The robber removed the sword from his throat and Damian gasped for air, not realizing had had been holding his breath. He thought the robber said something else to him but he couldn't focus, everything was still blurry and muffled from hitting his head.
Damian wasn't entirely sure how long it took for him to realize the robber was gone, leaving him alone in the wrecked store. Shit. Struggling to his feet, he leaned against the wall as he tried overcoming the vertigo and nausea. That's when he noticed a pool of dark red blood running across the floor behind the register. Wincing in pain, he shuffled over and found the body of a young girl on the floor, throat slit open. He stared at her dull glassy eyes and the flaps of torn skin on her neck. "No…"
Those motherfuckers are gonna pay. No way they were getting away. He ran out of the store in pursuit, ignoring his throbbing head and screaming muscles. Gotta find them.
Damian spent a good fifteen minutes trying to determine where the thieves went. He wasn't sure if his hands were shaking from pain or anger as he fumbled with his grapple gun. He was stupid. He got cocky, he underestimated a criminal. Even petty criminals had surprises from time to time. He was foolish and let them escape, he let his anger cloud his judgement. Just like with Dick…
Damian's hand on his grapple gun gave out, sending him sailing through the air. He reached out to grab a balcony rail on a nearby building but grasp failed him again as he careened through the air before falling onto another balcony a few floors below the previous. He landed on with a loud thud and saw stars as he hit his head yet again on the glass door. Everything was going dark, even though he knew it was beginning to get light out and he needed to head home.
Need to get back… and track those assholes down, he thought. But the darkness in his vision didn't yield and pulled him under into a deep stupor.