Summary: Dick Grayson hasn't been Batman for very long, but it is already proving to be harder than anything else he has ever done. Damian is a handful by himself. Damian and Tim are constantly arguing. So, what happens when a group of major villains start working together while the Bat-Family is falling apart? Can Dick bring everyone back together or will he have to do it on his own?

Chapter 1: Catalyst

Dick hated stakeouts.

The boredom was too much for him to handle. He lowered his chin to his chest and took a deep breath. A side glance allowed him to see Damian sitting on the ledge, chin resting on his hand as he lay hunched over, elbows on his knees.

"Batman, we've been sitting here for hours. I'm starting to believe your "hunch" about tonight's criminal activities were, not surprisingly, wrong," Robin said without looking toward him.

"Robin, you will learn that patience is a virtue."

"T-t."

The more nights Damian and he worked alongside each other, the easier he found it to ignore the boy's snarky comments. Even still, he worried about the boy. How was he going to control the ex-assassin? While he believed himself to be good with kids, he didn't consider himself good with Damian-type kids. Children like Lian Harper, Roy's daughter, were more his speed. There were some nights when he would rather be in a princess gown playing tea party than dealing with Damian's literal natural killer instinct.

Dick re-positioned himself on the building's ledge, stretching his tired muscles. Damian was right about one thing—they'd been sitting here for hours—but he was wrong about the other. Dick knew the deal was going down tonight, but the question was when exactly. Quite frankly, any minute now would be fantastic. He had to be bored when he was practically begging for crime to happen.

"Batman, there is movement on the top floor in the penthouse suite."

Dick turned on the binoculars in his cowl. He put the hotel's penthouse suite in his line of sight and zoomed in. Bingo. Dick recognized one of Scarecrow's henchmen walking into the room with a briefcase.

"I wonder what's in the briefcase…." Dick started to say.

"Really? It's some variant form of Scarecrow's fear toxin, obviously," Damian interrupted.

Dick stared at the boy for a moment. "You need to get used to working with me because I was going to finish by saying, I'm a little afraid to find out. But as you know, I didn't get that far."

Damian snorted. "The real Batman wouldn't have time for childish puns."

"Well, yeah. That should be your job, considering the fact you're the child. But I'll pick up your slack," Dick joked back, standing up. He took out his grappling hook and pointed it toward the building across from them. As he pressed the mechanism's release button, he could sense Damian's glare on the back of his head, but it only made him smile more. The kid would eventually learn.

Batman broke through the large glass window of the penthouse suite feet first and then barrel-rolled into a crouched position with planned precision. A few seconds later, Robin landed beside him.

"Sorry to drop in like this, boys, but I think this meeting is going to have to take a rain check," Batman said with a slight grin.

A laugh to his left made Batman turn his head. Stupid cowl. Simple things like turning my head could be so much easier if this thing were just a little bit looser. No wonder Bruce was always so stern and tense. In front of him, Scarecrow stood with his cloth mask over his head.

"Well, I'm sorry to inform you, Batman, but we can't easily reschedule this meeting. So, I'm afraid I'll have to ask that your interruption be cut short," Scarecrow stated with a stitched evil grin, "Boys, get rid of them."

And just like that, all hell broke loose. Within seconds Batman and Robin were surrounded by Scarecrow's thugs. Batman punched the nearest one in the chest, knocking him into the thug standing behind him, sending them both to the ground. As soon as his foot touched the ground again, he used it to kick off into a roundhouse kick, making contact with a thug's hand, kicking the knife out of the man's grasp. When he punched the thug in the head, the man stumbled back, holding his nose until he toppled over a table behind him and landed in a ball on the ground.

Batman went to engage another thug when Robin backed up into him, causing him to lose his balance.

"Robin!"

"Watch where you're going, Batman," Robin growled out as he returned to fighting.

Really? The two of them could barely work together. The boy wasn't even aware of where he was. He and Bruce had been so in sync they could take out two dozen thugs in a few minutes. He and Damian could barely take out half of that without running into each other.

Batman tried to regain his composure, but before he could stand back up, a thug had taken a baseball bat to his back. The pain caused Dick to grimace. A criminal meeting in a thousand-dollars a night penthouse suite, and this guy brings a bat. Classy. As the thug reared back to take another blow, Batman balanced his weight on his hands and spun his feet out from under him to sweep the thug off his feet.

He stood up and surveyed the room. Robin was sparring with one thug until a weak, hopefully not lethal, jab to the throat sent the criminal to the ground.

"Robin! You know not to use lethal force," Batman ordered from across the room.

Robin snorted. "He should be fine."

Keyword, should, thought Dick.

"Aw, Batman and Robin not playing so nice together?" Scarecrow mockingly questioned.

Batman narrowed his eyes, "Just hand over the toxin, Crane, and we won't have any issues."

Scarecrow laughed. "You remind me of the Joker with your jokes, Batman. Hand it over. Sure, let me just hand over my most prized possession. This form of my fear toxin is so potent that I don't think even you can fight it," Scarecrow paused with an evil grin, "But there is only one way to find out."

With that, Scarecrow took out a remote.

"Robin, gas mask on!" Batman shouted as Scarecrow hit the button.

"I figured you would show tonight, Batman, so I had the room pre-set with my new toxin to try out on you. Maybe one day you'll learn not to mingle in my business."

Batman began running toward Scarecrow, but it was already too late. The room filled with yellow gas. Crane was right; the gas was potent, too powerful for his gas mask even. It began seeping into his mouth, and he could taste the foul gas on his tongue. It traveled quickly into his lungs, causing him to keel over onto his knees. Through the pain and confusion, he looked up to find Robin through the yellow haze. The boy was hunched over on the ground, screaming. Being so small, it was evident the gas was going through Damian's system faster than Dick's. It probably also helped that Dick had been exposed to other forms of Scarecrow's fear toxin before.

Batman began searching through his utility belt for the cure, but when he looked down, he was shocked to find his belt gone, replaced by a belt made up of tiny heads. He recognized the faces of those who he'd lost. It's all in your mind, Grayson. The cure is in the same compartment it has always been. It just happens to be your father's skull now—no big deal.

Despite the pep talk, he couldn't find the cure. How much time had passed?

He tried to stand up but found his legs to be shaky. When he looked down, he noticed his legs were missing. No, it's just a hallucination caused by the toxin. You still have legs, Grayson. For goodness sake, you can still feel them.

Scarecrow was laughing at him. When he looked up, though, it wasn't Scarecrow laughing at him; it was Bruce.

"Really, Dick? I would have never gotten myself into this situation. I'm disappointed in you."

Ignore it. It's just in your head.

"Dick, you should've let someone else take over the mantle and take care of Damian. You're not doing a very good job," the imaginary Bruce continued.

Dick tried with all his strength to ignore the words but that voice. He hadn't heard that voice in months. It wasn't Bruce, but it might as well have been. The figure in front of him was highly life-like, from the shiny black shoes to the glossy black hair. The only thing missing behind the look of disappointment was the essence of life in the man's blue eyes.

"Maybe, if you had died when Two-Face beat you or the Joker shot you, we wouldn't be in this situation. I'd still be Batman and fighting crime with my real son," the fake Bruce hissed. Oh, Grayson, you need some therapy.

Dick began walking toward the hallucination in front of him.

"No!" It was Scarecrow's voice coming through now. "Maybe you just need a larger dose."

Bruce pulled out a gun right before Dick felt a dart hit him in the chest. Before becoming Batman, the suit would have easily kept the dart from hitting skin, but Dick had altered the suit to accommodate his fighting style. He'd sacrificed the armor to allow for more fluid, acrobatic movements.

The second dose was too much, and he found himself once more on the ground, shaking with fear. While most of the gas had escaped through the broken window at this point, its effects weren't lessening. When he tried to find Scarecrow, Dick found the man gone. Crap. Scarecrow got away.

The world was spinning, and he felt like he was falling. The next thing he knew, he was falling. Dick was back in the big top, falling to the floor. He landed on the ground next to the bodies of his dead parents. Dick couldn't feel his body and couldn't turn his head to look away. Suddenly, the eyes of his father opened and lifelessly stared at him.

"You didn't just disappoint Bruce, that man you replaced me with, but you've disappointed me, as well," John Grayson stated with a look of hatred on his face. It isn't real. You can move. You just feel like you can't. Get up, Grayson. But he didn't get up. Instead, the taunts continued from his father, his mother, and Bruce from earlier. He could feel tears on the corner of his eyes, but he choked them back. If you cry, Damian will never let you live it down.

Through the constant taunts, Dick heard footsteps.

"Batman!"

Tim, that's Tim.

A needle pierced his arm, and he knew it was probably a cure for the toxin. The figures slowly disappeared, and Dick found himself in the penthouse suite again, not the big top floor. He tried moving but found his body unresponsive. Scarecrow must have put a paralyzer in that last dosage. No wonder he felt like he couldn't move; he literally couldn't.

From his place on the ground, he could see Red Robin administering the cure to Robin, who was still shaking uncontrollably on the floor. When done, Red Robin turned around to face Batman.

"Can you move?"

"No, I think Scarecrow hit me with some type of paralyzer," Dick replied. How did I mess up so badly to get into this situation? I'm a horrible Batman. Bruce would have never let this happen.

Red Robin moved over to him and stuck another needle into Dick's arm through the Batman armor.

"That should give you feeling back in a few minutes."

Tim was right. Within a few minutes, Dick was sitting up, rubbing his muscles as he got feeling back. Robin sat crossed-legged on the ground with his hood over his head in the corner of the room.

"Well, I think we should call it a night," Batman said after searching the room for any evidence that might be useful to find Scarecrow. Red Robin alerted the police, who would handle the remaining thugs in handcuffs.

The car ride back wasn't exactly a pleasant one. Damian was usually quiet, but tonight the silence was deafening.

"Damian, whatever you saw, it was just in your mind."

"I know that, Grayson. I'm not stupid."

"I never said you were," Dick replied, his tone soft.

"Your statement implied it," was the harsh response.

How was he supposed to comfort this kid? If he tried hugging Damian, the boy would probably murder him in his sleep. It could be worth it, though. He'd think about it.

Damian was already out of the Batmobile before it came to a complete stop. Nearby, Red Robin's motorcycle was parked.

"Your interference was not necessary, Drake," Damian said, stern-faced as he passed Tim.

"Oh, really now? Well, if I hadn't interfered, I'm pretty sure you'd still be rocking back and forth in the fetal position, crying," Tim angrily responded.

"T-t. If you honestly believe we needed your help, you're more ignorant than I originally presumed," Damian came back, still stern-faced.

Tim's face began contorting in anger as he approached Damian, hands in fists. "Look here…"

"Tim, stand down," Dick finally interjected, turning away from the computer, "I wish we didn't need it, but your help was greatly appreciated." He turned back around to type a passcode into the main computer.

With Dick's back turned, Tim gave Damian a told-you-so face and glared at the younger boy.

"Whatever. Grayson won't be there to save you when you're alone at night."

Tim became heated again. "Are you really threatening someone who just saved you?!"

"Tim!" Dick shouted, walking toward his bickering brothers, "I think we all just need to calm down."

"He is the one threatening me!"

"Yeah, well, you're the older one, so act like it."

At this comment, Damian laughed and took his leave from the cave. As soon as the youngest Bat-Family member was gone, Tim looked toward Dick with an angry expression.

"Why are you always taking his side, Dick? I don't know if you remember, but I was here first."

"Tim, I'm not trying to make you feel bad, but Damian needs my attention right now more than you do. The kid's a loose cannon. You do realize he could easily kill someone. I mean, he almost did tonight!"

"So, you think him threatening me is the best way to handle his anger? I'm not a tool, Dick. I'm a person. One that thought you were his brother," Tim spat.

"Tim…" Dick's voice trailed off. That last comment struck home. He wasn't trying to push one brother away to make another feel like he had a friend. If Damian felt like no one was on his side, he wouldn't think he belonged here. But making Damian believe Dick had his best interest at heart was proving to be a challenge. It seemed the same was true for Tim. Things had been tough for all of them since Bruce's death, but Tim handled Bruce's death with denial, which caused tension among the family.

"Just stop. There's nothing left to say here. I save you guys, and this is the thanks I get," Tim said, waving him off as he turned away.

His words failed him, so he let Tim walk away. He couldn't please everyone; he was only one person. Dick wondered how Bruce had handled everything: the mission, the double life, and the sidekicks. Had he always been hot-headed and stubborn like his brothers?

Immediately after starting the engine, Tim revved his motorcycle and sped off. Eventually, he would make Tim understand where he was coming from, but he couldn't even understand it himself right now. He just knew this was the right thing to do, a little parental intuition possibly.

Besides, he had more significant issues to deal with, mainly Scarecrow and his potent fear toxin that was loose somewhere in the city.