UPDATE: Right now I'm finishing some finals but I have chapters 9 & 10 planned for December. Thank you for reading and happy holidays!

Author's Note: In this chapter we get to see what Stiles and the Batfamily are up to. Any translations in the chapter were taken from google translate. Sorry if it's inaccurate. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think. :)

An alert from the computer drew his attention away from Stiles when they arrived back at the manor. Manbat was wreaking havoc in downtown Gotham. By the time he returned, a letter was waiting for him.

"Has he not returned, sir?" Alfred asked. He stood in the doorway of the bedroom, a pained look on his face.

"No he hasn't," Bruce said. "I don't think he will. Not until he's done."

Alfred walked over to the bed and began to peel off the sheets.

"He's been gone for three weeks. You don't have to-"

"I must, Master Bruce. So it will be ready for when the young sir returns."

Bruce helped his butler with the pillows. "I'll keep him safe out there. I promise you, Alfred."

Stiles always slept with his duffel bag tucked safely under his arm. Gotham was a finders keepers kind of city. He learned that the first night when his shoes were stolen right off his feet.

"Robbery in progress at Gotham Jewelers. Two males. Armed."

Stiles put the radio in his pocket and waited. A moment later, the men burst through the back entrance, bags of jewelry hefted over their shoulders. They raised their guns when they spotted him.

"Ne strelyayte (Don't shoot)!" Stiles shouted. He picked up a bit of Russian at the library; his pronunciation wasn't very good, but it got the job done. They looked at each other and then back at Stiles. "I'm a friend." He pointed to himself. "Druk. A friend."

The piercing sound of police sirens caused them all to freeze. The shorter of the two advanced towards him, gun still held firmly in his hand. "Will you help us?"

"Sergei…" The other said warningly.

"Will you help us or no?"

"Yes." Stiles cocked his head in the direction of the sirens. "Or you can take your chances with them."

Sergei lowered his gun. "Lead the way. Friend."

Stiles turned on his heel and darted down the alley into the streets of Gotham. He memorized the route beforehand, taking shortcuts wherever he could. The cops were hot on their trail.

Three weeks ago, he wasn't planning on helping Russian jewel thieves escape from the law. However, after staking out Fish Mooney's club, the idea sprung to mind. Most of the club's patrons had ties to the crime syndicates of Gotham: the Russians, the Yakuza, and the Italians. If he was to get anywhere near Mooney, then he needed to get a footing in Gotham's criminal network. The Russians were definitely a start. From what he heard, they were particularly interested in large, shiny jewels. All he had to do was pick a place and wait.

Stiles skidded to a stop as they approached a dead end.

"What do we do now?"

"Give me a boost." He said, motioning to the fire escape ladder.

Sergei made a frustrated noise and handed his bag over to his partner. "Take it Dimitri."

Sergei put his hands together. Stiles stepped on and reached for the ladder. With a sharp tug, it came sliding down.

They climbed up the fire escape and ran across the rooftop. He checked his watch; a police helicopter was bound to show. Sergei and Dimitri jumped to the next building while Stiles stood frozen at the edge.

He knew that he had to jump, but when he looked down, Stiles only saw himself breaking every bone in his body.

"What are you fucking waiting for?"

"I'm coming all right!" Stiles took a deep breath and a few steps back. It was just him, the gap, and the sound of his heart thumping in his ears. He didn't think; he acted. The concrete disappeared from under him, and for a split second, he was flying.

The ledge of the other building came up faster than expected. He landed on solid ground, but before he could celebrate, he lost his balance. Gravity pulled him backwards and Stiles was left grasping at nothing but air.

He felt someone yank the front of his shirt and pull him upright. "Keep up, friend. You are the one helping us, no?" Sergei said.

Stiles nodded, eyes wide. "Thanks. For that. What you did."

"I did not do it for you."

"Course you didn't. Um, let's get moving, then."

He led them from rooftop to rooftop. The gaps were wide and dizzying; he squashed down any feelings of unease. He couldn't afford it.

"STOP! GCPD!"

A shot rang out nearby. Stiles covered his head but kept running. "Sergei are they still following us?"

"Nyet."

"Good cause we're here." He threw himself off the ledge and onto the fire escape. The window of an apartment he scoped out earlier was propped open. The family was on vacation for the rest of the month. After everyone was inside, he shut it closed. They were safe.

However, his relief didn't last long. Dimitri pinned him against the wall. Sergei approached him with his arms crossed across his chest. "Not that I am not grateful, but who are you?"

Stiles squirmed under Dimitri's grip. Sergei looked closely at his face. He then stepped back. "Did Alexei send you? I have never seen you before."

"Or are you with Falcone? Dimitri asked accusingly. "He can't even speak Russian correctly. He could be a spy, Sergei."

Stiles shook his head vigorously. "No, I'm not. My mother was part Russian, and I could only pick up a bit of the language." It was a complete lie. He was Polish, but he wasn't telling Sergei that.

"Shut up!" Sergei snapped. "Your name, boy?"

He really, really wished people would stop calling him boy. "Derek. Derek Hale." Stiles spit out. "I may not be a complete Russian, but you can use someone like me."

Sergei flicked his hand and Dimitri let go of Stiles. "Well Mr. Hale, I am in no need of a scrawny twig like you."

Stiles patted down his shirt. "I'm quick and resourceful. I've proved it already. "

A deep laugh reverberated throughout the room. "Do you hear that, Dimitri? He proved it. We were almost shot you fool." He heard a click and a gun was pointed between his eyes. "Sorry but I cannot let you leave after seeing our faces."

Stiles raised his hands, a gold watch hanging from his fingers. "This is just a preview of what I can get you; it's not just gold watches. I can get you something even better. Give me a chance."

He only hoped Bruce didn't mind him using his Christmas present as a bargaining chip.

The man lowered his gun. "Why should I believe you? You're all talk."

Stiles handed over the watch. "I want to join you guys. I can prove that I can be a valuable asset. I'm willing to do anything."

Sergei inspected the watch and after some thought stowed away his weapon. Dimitri shook his head. "Sergei, we can't trust-"

"Not now, Dimitri. I can see the Russian in you, boy. You're very determined. If you can get me something better than this, then I'll consider mentioning you to the boss."

This was his in. One step closer to finding out who framed his dad.

"Deal."

"Why the transfer, Dick?"

"I wanted to be closer to home. Been away too long." While Bruce's request was the reason for his return, he actually missed being at the manor. Hanging out with Tim. Alfred's witty banter. Patrolling the streets with Bruce.

"Well, everything's in order. I know you grew up here Dick, but I hope you know that Gotham's a whole 'nother can of worms. No offense, son."

"I understand, sir. I just want to thank you again for the opportunity."

Jim produced a badge and a gun from his desk. "I don't think I have to tell you that once you wear this badge, you represent not only the GCPD but also myself. So I expect great things from you, Dick."

Dick held the badge in his hand. "I won't disappoint you, sir."

"I know you won't. You're a good man, and you treat my daughter well. I'm glad she's picked you."

Dick felt a surge of pride. "I'm glad she did, too."

Jim stood from his chair and walked towards the doors. "I think it's time I introduced you to your new partner."

Dick followed Jim onto the main floor. Officers were bustling about, some enjoying a coffee break while others were bringing in the catch of the day.

Jim pointed to a red headed woman sitting on top of a desk with her legs crossed. "This is Officer Debra O'Hara. She seems to have forgotten that desks are for working not sitting."

"Nice to meet you." Dick extended his hand.

Debra sized him up. "New recruit, Commissioner?"

"Play nice, O'Hara. He'll be riding with you."

"My name's Richard Grayson. Everyone calls me Dick."

Debra stifled a giggle. "Alright, Dick. Everyone here calls me Debbie."

"O'Hara here will show you the ropes. If you need any other assistance, then I will be in my office." Jim patted his shoulder, leaving him alone with his new partner.

Debra, at first glance, was your ordinary officer. She was somewhat cocky but nothing outwardly suspicious. She made over a dozen arrests just last month, but beneath it all, she was hiding a history.

Evidence disappeared on her watch. Nothing concrete to connect her to it. He sat in the chair across from his new partner. She was smart. For that, he had to give her credit. He would have to keep a close eye on her movements.

"Earth to Grayson! Have you heard anything I was saying?"

Dick came back to his senses; Debra was waving her hand in front of his face "Okay newbie. First lesson, always pay attention. We got a call about a couple of men who just robbed Gotham Jewelers. We're headed there now."

Dick grabbed his holster on the way out. As they entered the cruiser, Debra wasted no time in grabbing the radio and turning on the siren. "Dispatch, what's the status of the robbery at Gotham Jewelers?"

"Suspects have taken off on foot east of Gotham Jewelers. Two white males. Armed."

"Copy that." Debra stepped on the accelerator.

Dick held onto the roof of the cruiser as they turned the corner. Her driving, while useful, was a bit erratic. They drove in the direction in which the suspects were last seen, scanning the streets and the alleyways.

"Oh, god. They're on the roof." Debra pulled over and sprinted out of the car. She climbed up the fire escape. Dick followed behind her. On the rooftop, he could see the suspects ready to jump to the next building.

"STOP! GCPD!" When they didn't stop, Debra pulled out her gun intending to clip one of them. That's when he saw the third suspect, shorter than the other two and awfully familiar. He knew there'd be hell to pay afterwards, but he shoved Debra to the ground. The bullet fired harmlessly into the air.

"What the fuck Grayson?" Debra was holding her arm in pain.

Dick shrugged. "Sorry, my mistake. I thought I saw one of them pull a gun."

Debra waved her hands angrily at him. "I can't deal with this right now." She got up and scanned the rooftop. It was empty; they were gone.

Dick couldn't help but feel relieved. It could have been a trick of the light, but on the off chance it wasn't, he couldn't let Debra make the shot.

"Newbie. Lesson 2, don't play the hero! Let's go back to the store while they canvas the area."

Dick looked back onto the rooftop. He had a bad feeling.

"Welcome, Zatanna Zatara."

"Welcome, Madame Xanadu."

"Batman."

Bruce folded his arms across his chest. "Madame Xanadu. Zatanna."

Madame Xanadu nodded in acknowledgement. "Can I ask why we are meeting here at Watchtower?"

Bruce turned to the monitor. "Because we need the League's help in order to locate Constantine. Frankly, we haven't gotten far these past months. Every time we get close to the warehouse it vanishes."

No matter how hard he looked there was no trace of the occult detective. He tried the Gotham underground, but they were all keeping quiet.

The doors opened. "Welcome, Flash. Welcome, Green Lantern. Welcome, Wonder Woman. Welcome, Martian Manhunter. Welcome, Superman."

One by one they stepped off the teleporter pad.

"What an honor it is to meet the entire League." Madame Xanadu said.

Bruce stepped forward. "These supernatural occurrences are happening across the states, am I correct? We need the help of the team to find any leads. I'm sending Flash and Green Lantern to Beacon Hills to figure out why these anomalies started. Superman and Wonder Woman will go with Zatanna to talk to the witch Enchantress. If there is anyone who knows about these creatures and their recent sightings it's her."

"I don't like the idea of talking to Enchantress, Bats," Zatanna pursed her lips, "She's evil remember? I don't think she'd want to help us find Constantine."

"It was Constantine that returned June Moon to her." Bruce said. "I think she'll talk."

"And my purpose Batman?" Martian Manhunter asked.

Bruce glanced at the other Leaguers. "You have your assignments. J'onn if you'd follow me."

Bruce and J'onn walked into the hallway, making sure everyone else was out of earshot. "I have a favor to ask of you J'onn."

The Martian read Bruce's face. "I can tell something is troubling you. Someone close to you."

Bruce took a photo out of his pocket. In it was Stiles smiling at the academy with Tim. "This kid, Stiles Stilinski. He ran away a month ago. He's had this mission to clear his father's name. I just don't-"

"You do not want him making a mistake that he will regret." J'onn took the photo. "He looks bright. Why not stop him now, before it is too late?"

Bruce shook his head. He had considered it. Stopping Stiles. Dragging him back to the manor. But he couldn't do that. Stiles was fighting his own demons. A familiar concept to Bruce. However, it didn't mean he couldn't keep some sort of eye on him. Jason had died because he wasn't there. Stiles would be different.

"That was not your fault."

Bruce lifted his head. "I told you not to read my mind."

"I apologize. If you want me to follow Stiles, then I will." J'onn placed a hand on his shoulder. "At some point you have to be honest with yourself. You distance yourself from the boy because you are afraid of getting hurt again."

Bruce frowned, turning away from J'onn. "Maybe you're right, but it's for the best."

"For who?"

He heard the doors open and J'onn was gone. Bruce pulled back his cowl, rubbing his temples. He made a promise and he intended to keep it.