A/N: OMIGOSH! It's been so long, you guys! I'm so sorry! I've been so busy with school and looking at colleges and theatre and everything else in my life, I've barely had time for recreational writing. But, I finally pulled through! I just hope I didn't lose you guys as my readers!

Damian's POV

I only feign listening as the dark haired boy they call Diesel explains to me how his 'credit system' operates. I have absolutely no interest in buying a knock-off Rolex or a pack of cigarettes most likely bummed off of homeless smokers. But the smooth talking teenager seems set on gaining me as a customer. I can see right through his thought process already. It doesn't take a detective to figure it out. I'm the son of the richest man in Gotham City, and here I am in the poorest, most crime ridden section of town. I must be rebellious and idiotic enough to be duped into buying some contraband items off of him.

These con artists seem to think they have everybody figured out.

But, I will admit, this trip isn't all bad.

I have been to the East End many times before, but always as Robin. Never as Damian Wayne. It's a strange feeling; being here on this rooftop, surrounded by teenagers that I would usually view as delinquents. But here I am, willingly spending my Friday night with them, as if they're old friends of mine.

As if I wouldn't be arresting some of them if I was here in uniform.

But, oddly enough, I'm not looking at them through Robin's eyes. I don't look at Diesel and see a con-artist. I don't look at Ace and see a drug dealer. I don't look at Lola and see a prostitute. Even though I can tell just by looking at them that they are all these things. I don't look at any of them and see the potential crimes they have committed.

When I look at them, all I see are teenagers who have welcomed me into their inner circle like I am one of their own.

This part of Gotham and the people who inhabit it are so foreign to me. Of course, I have seen the flip side of the East End while in uniform. It's a breeding ground for violent crimes. Robberies, rapes, and murders run rampant around here. But in all my years as Robin, nothing could have prepared me for encountering… this. I've never seen the East End – or all of Gotham, for that matter – as anything but a dirty hell hole full of unholy, monstrous creatures. But Dee offers a completely different perspective on the city that I call my home.

And I'm finding that I like it.

"Stop harassing the poor boy, Diesel," the girl that Dee called Tatiana interrupts. "Let him breathe."

I barely know this girl, but I shoot her a grateful look nonetheless. Diesel glares at her before walking off in Ace's general direction, muttering something about her presence being 'bad for business'. Tatiana gives a wide, toothy smile and flips her long brown hair back behind her shoulder, revealing her neck in a very low cut top. For the briefest of seconds, I think she might just be trying to charm me into being one of her 'clients', and my mouth prepares to form into a scowl. But from the spark of happiness in her chocolate brown eyes and the genuine dimples forming on her round cheeks, I know that her kindness is genuine.

When you're the heir to the Wayne fortune, genuine kindness is a rarity. I never thought I would have to come to the slums of Gotham to find it.

"He can be a pain in the ass sometimes," she jokes, gently elbowing me in the side. I tense up, but resist the urge to snap at her. Physical contact as a sign of platonic affection seems to be the norm for this group of friends. I suppose I should take it as a compliment. They're accepting me as an equal.

"He can be entertaining at times," I offer in response. The reply feels clumsy coming from my lips. I speak as if he's a close personal friend of mine and not just a boy I met a few hours before. I don't know him. I only know him on the level that a detective knows the subject he's analyzing.

Tatiana chuckles softly, shaking her head and glancing over at where Dee and Lola are standing, holding their hips in laughter. Lola appears to be tipsy, while Dee seems to be more in control of her actions and sharply aware of her surroundings. She wraps an arm around Lola's shoulders, gently pulling her to the side when she stumbles in her high heels. I can't hear what they're saying from a distance, but whatever it is that Dee said, it causes Lola to burst into a fit of giddy laughter. She puts her entire body into it, throwing her head back and slapping Dee on the shoulder in a playful manner. It doesn't take long for Dee to follow along, breaking out into a toothy smile and throwing her head back as well, almost knocking them off balance. I struggle to squash my own smile that is beginning to form at the sight of it.

The smile on Dee's lips is so wide, so genuine, it's almost too big for her face. I can think back to several times that she has smiled while in the Manor, but never like this. They've always been small grins and smirks she has cracked while trying to annoy me. But never the type of smile she's flashing right now. It lights up her whole face and causes her to glow with happiness. She looks…

"She really likes you, you know."

I blink myself back to reality, returning Tatiana's gaze. She has a smug expression on her face, as if she holds the key to the universe's most closely guarded secret. I simply stare back at her, rendered speechless for one of the first times in my life.

"… What?" I finally manage to spit out. Tatiana giggles slightly before nodding over to where Dee stands, wrestling a bottle away from Lola like a concerned mother. A small snort escapes my lips.

"Dee doesn't really take to people all that much," she admits with a grin. "The amount of people she trusts is limited to the people on this roof. That includes you, Wayne."

I scoff at her assumption. The thought of a girl like Dee – who I've avoided and argued with at every turn – putting her faith in me of all people, just sounds ridiculous. Anyone putting their faith in me is just ridiculous.

If not even Father can do it, why should I expect anyone else to?

"You must be mistaking me for someone else," I deadpan. Taking a few swigs of my water, I finish off each drop before tossing the empty bottle back into the cooler, silently praying that Tatiana will drop the subject altogether. It's intrusive and makes my stomach flip over in a way I'm not familiar with. But, sadly, I put too much faith in Dee's delinquent friends.

"Seriously, Wayne," she continues, the annoyingly cocky grin missing from her face. "Dee is my friend. I care about her. She cares about me. All of us here? We're like one big fucked up family, we look out for each other. When one of us gets hurt, the rest of us bring the hurt. You get me?"

I nod slowly, having no earthly idea where she plans to go with this.

"She's been disappointed by too many people in her life already. You and I both know she has no trouble taking care of herself, but that doesn't mean I don't still look out for her. She's staying with you, right?"

I nod.

"Just do me a favor, Wayne. Don't disappoint her."

I'm not sure what to say in response. The way she says this, with such conviction and phrasing almost like a demand rather than a plea, strikes me uncharacteristically speechless. She's staring straight at me with serious, piercing eyes that cause discomfort to rise from the pit of my stomach. I look away from her hard brown eyes, my gaze landing on Dee. She's passing Lola off into Diesel's arms, shaking her head at her drunk friend. It's obvious that Dee is the – for lack of a better word – 'mother' of the group. She's a caretaker, not someone who must be taken care of.

But Tatiana is still staring me down, unrelenting and intense. So I humor her for the time being.

"I won't," I promise.

Finally, the spark of fire behind her eyes fades and she gives me a slow burning, sly grin. She looks almost cat-like. Introspective. I can tell there is something bubbling below the surface, begging to be released.

She wants to tell me something.

A gentle hand on my arm tears my eyes away from Tatiana's gaze and I spin around to confront my attacker.

The 'attacker' proves to be a very flushed looking Dee, who backs away slightly at the sight of my fighting stance beginning to form. A light blush spreads across her tanned cheeks as she mutters a small apology under her breath. My muscles relax from their rigid state and my hand slowly falls back to my side. I've spent so much of my time being vigilant that I almost harmed the same girl I've been assigned with protecting. An intrusive and unwelcome thought crosses my mind; maybe Father was right about how I should have left this case alone.

A light scowl settles on my face as I narrow my eyes at her.

"Don't do that again."

Something changes in her face for a split second. I can see it; the muscles tensing, her mouth curling into a slight frown, her eyes lighting up with fire. She's about to snap back at me, I can tell. The witty remark is forming on her tongue already.

To my surprise, it never comes.

Instead, her face slowly relaxes back into an easy grin. The fire behind her eyes is extinguished and I can see them melting back into their normal, gentle hazel. I feel discomfort rise up in me.

I'm so used to getting some sort of reaction from her. Our game of cat and mouse can't work without one.

"It's getting late," she observes, her voice soft. "We should get back to your house."

I look around, taking in my surroundings as I realize just how late it is. The city is in a rare state of peaceful silence, aside from the chattering behind me. I expect that silence won't last long. The scum of Gotham come out to play during the night, and the East End is their favorite playground. It would be the perfect opportunity to pick Dee off without anyone noticing or really caring.

Except for me, that is.

I don't think twice about it when I grab her dainty hand, holding it in my far larger one. I don't look at her face to gauge her reaction, or even give myself time to think about it as I pull her along towards the ladder at the edge of the building. I let go of her hand and gesture for her to climb down the ladder before me. From the confused crease in her brow, I can tell she doesn't expect any chivalrous behavior out of me. I simply roll my eyes and climb down after her.

The hooting and hollering from the roof above slowly fades away as we climb down the rusty, rickety ladder into the alleyway below. The only light we have comes from the streetlights a good 20 feet away on the other side of the street, but I can see the outline of Dee's face. It's hard to tell, but I think she's smiling.

I feel the corners of my mouth begin to pull upward inexplicably.

What the hell has gotten into me?

"We gotta get outta here," Dee insists as she grabs my hand, pulling me forward. "You don't wanna get stuck here this late on a Friday night."

I stare at her hand in mine for the second time tonight, but decide to leave it be.

"I think I can handle myself," I mutter as she pulls me out onto the dimly lit streets. A few petty thieves and drug addicts don't faze me. I could fight them off with both hands behind my back. I've done so before, in fact.

It was a long night.

"I don't care that you can handle yourself," she responds, her tone still light, but holding some mischief. "I don't want to have to explain to your dad why you came home with a shank buried in your stomach."

At that, I can't help but chuckle. It's still amusing how little she knows about me. I could snap the average mugger over my knee like a twig. I'm not too concerned about being 'shanked'.

Dee nudges me with her shoulder, her signature wicked grin painting her face. There's always a hint of mischief in her eyes, as well as in her smile. I've grown so used to it that I have to remind myself she'll be gone soon. Then whatever pseudo 'friendship' we have is over. She's out of my life forever.

I try to tell myself it doesn't matter to me.

"Didja have fun tonight?" she asks. "You weren't as much as a stiff as you usually are."

I snort at that.

"You don't know a thing about me," I insist. Now she snorts.

"I know enough about you to know that you're a regular stick in the mud. Admit it, Wayne. You enjoyed yourself among us East End sinners. Whether you want to admit it or not."

I curse myself when I feel the corners of my lips curl up into an amused grin.

"I admit to nothing."

Dee covers her mouth and giggles at me, laugh lines appearing at the corners of her eyes. It's a light, melodious sound that rings in my ears even after it ends. Something tugs at the center of my chest, like my heart is being pulled in all directions, as if it's on strings. This feeling is so strange, so foreign. But I find myself wanting to feel it again. I find myself wanting to hear her joyous laughter again. She's different when she's happy. Lighter… Pretty, almost. Maybe.

I turn my head over to her, opening my mouth to say the first thought the pops into my mind.

It's drowned out by the sound of gunfire.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed and weren't totally driven away by how late this chapter was. Sorry! As always, reviews are wonderful and they are the fuel that keeps this story running. So yeah, drop one of those, please. See you hopefully sooner than last time!