Christmas break! Time to update!

Personal experiences throughout his life taught Dick Grayson that he preferred waking up in a small apartment other than a huge mansion. So, his morning ritual fell back into place now that he had returned home from that intergalactic war he'd been a part of. The sun had risen about an hour previously. The digital clock on the microwave in the kitchen, given that he had used his previous alarm clock some weeks ago to smash the landline phone the previous owner or owners had never bothered to cancel and/or remove, glared back at him as he slid into the small kitchen from his quick shower and quick change into his police uniform.

A quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon with a quick swallow of a glass of orange juice, Dick darted out his front door, timing that he had a well adjusted 15 minutes to reach the BHPD station. No problem for his bike.

Acutely accurate, officer Grayson walked into his acquitted HQ at exactly 8:00am.

He could only stare as soon as he walked into the building though, for every officer and even some of the janitors, one of which was moping up something purple and lumpy from a floor ventilator, all stopped their current assignments and turned to stare at the young man. The entire room going deftly silent within those small moment was only a contrasting breath as a shout came from a back room.

"Grayson get your but in here now!"

Dick rolled his eyes. Great, Amy was pissed. What had he done now?

He trudged into the back room that separated the commissioner's office from the rest of the building. He was obviously absent but he found Amy leaning against the unfilled desk. He only got to stare in confusion for a few minutes before her head tilted to the right, motioning to the darkest corner of the room.

Blue eyes turned and widened at the sight of a figure curled up the corner, seemingly fast asleep.

Had a hobo wandered in during the night?

A normal officer might of put a hand to his gun but Dick simply tensed. Yeah, a past with Bruce Wayne/Batman made you a little weary of guns. Unless you were Jason of course.

That's when he realized that he could make out deep breaths coming from the figure and that it was much to quaint to be a fully grown hobo. In fact, it looked like a child. He would've guessed it to be a runaway kid, if only running away to a police station wouldn't have been the stupidest idea ever.

"Is he in danger?" Dick asked his partner, his eyes turning back to her.

The woman sighed, relaxed, walked past her partner and shut the door behind him.

Solitude then. It obviously wasn't just a run away.

Leaning against the door, Amy pushed herself off of it and her eyes lost their harshness. Yeah, it was one of those rare moments.

"The kid showed up sometime between midnight last night and 5:00am this morning."

Ah, so it was a child, "Who is he?"

"Don't know, he wouldn't let me near him."

Dick looked back towards the child and took a step towards him, there was something familiar in the air, but he couldn't exactly place it.

"He had this with him."

Dick turned back to look at the object his partner was holding out and nearly choked. It was a simple communicator, but not one he couldn't recognize instantly. It was one of his own. He changed direction and took the necessary steps forwards to reach out and take it.

Amy raised an eyebrow, half in curiosity and half in accusation, "He's looking for Nightwing."

Yep, no doubting the design of black and blue on the tech. Dick began turning back to the curled up figure as the form's breathing caught, signaling that he was waking up.

He had begun that turn, but not before-

CRASH!

Amy threw open the door at the sound.

Now, Bludhaven had it's fair share of crazies. Actually, probably more than their fair share of crazy lunatics and madmen, but this was new, for at the entrance to the police HQ was a man in a reddish brown stuffy winter coat waving around a machete and yelling, "THE DEMON! THE DEMON!"

Officers with them, drew their weapons, those who didn't and were brave enough, grabbed the brooms and mops from the janitors who ducked behind desks with the rookies too afraid to reveal their locations to their obviously troubled visitor. Officers rushed forward, one single janitor even gaining enough courage to throw a conveniently placed phonebook at the wildly waving and seriously sharp machete in the crazed man's hand as the gutsy officers in the force wrestled him to the ground. Dick found himself holding down one of the mad man's arms, unfortunately, it was the one reaching for the dropped weapon. Thankfully, a quick kick from Amy sent the blade out of the man's reach as another officer ran up and jammed a sedative into the guy's arm.

He had time to mumble a last few words in a gasp.

"Demon…BAT demon!"

Dick's inner persona of Nightwing stiffened at the muttering of the words.

All the other officers got to their feet, dusting off their clothes and grumbling.

"Drunk off his rocker."

"Insane madman."

"He's obviously high."

"Man's gone mental."

Dick went to pick himself up with the others when he saw something metal glint, something coming out of the man's sleeve and it was bloody. He swore under his breath and ripped the madman's right sleeve off. What he saw forced him to swallow back bile.

A bloody batarang, coated with a liquid that he could recall by the scent alone, although the sight of the silvery liquid also gave away it's identity to the others:

Liquid Mercury.

"Someone call an ambulance!" Amy shouted at one of the frightened rookies before she shooed the others away and slipped on a glove to pull out the batarang.

Grayson didn't need to be shocked, she was shocked enough for the both of them at this point. After bagging the evidence and directing the rapidly arrived medical team to the man's wound the strong willed woman grabbed her partner's arm and pulled him back into the commissioner's office. Their boss really should see to locking his door when he left. Amy closed the door behind the two and turned to rile up any facts from Dick Grayson, who she knew was Nightwing, when she found he was staring down and not back at her.

The grey cloaked form that they had assumed to be a child proved the fact as he reached up and grasped Dick's hand with almost crushing force as he now stood beside him. Dick himself knew very few children with that amount of strength. The kid was too short to be a teenager even. Dick crouched down and reached to push back the grey hood that had been covering the child's face and Amy schooled a flinch. When she had tried that she had gotten a cut across her wrist from the kid's nails that drew a fair amount of blood from the main vein.

"Careful," she warned.

The child didn't move a muscle and even held his breath.

The hood fell back and Dick gasped.

"Damian?"

The clock on the wall struck 9:00am.

Well, that's the update.

~Moonsetta