Don't own batman or any of the related characters.

Chapter 3:

The Transports

"Woah" Connor commented, eyeing the muffin in his hand with newfound appreciation. "These are pretty good."

Tim chuckled, moving the tray of muffins so that it rested between the two of them on the counter top. "Don't let Alfred hear the surprise in your voice."

"Hey," Connor shrugged, taking another bite, "living with Ma's cooking makes you harsh critic."

The boys were seated in the kitchen, stools pulled right up to the counter. It had been a while since they had done this. To simply enjoy the other's company - without the threat of danger or a crime to stop. Tim had missed it.

A familiar whirring sounded in the distance. Connor froze as he was about to take another bite of the scone, fixing his eyes on Tim.

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" asked Tim, feigning nonchalance.

He most certainly did. That noise meant that his peace was about to be very much interrupted. Tim resisted the urge to groan.

"It sort of sounds like - " Connor looked out of the kitchen window. Right there, landing in the ginormous front yard of Wayne manor, was…

"- a helicopter." Connor breathed.

This time, Tim did let out that groan. Thanks to a certain demon child, he had come to loath helicopters. Their sound alone had become enough to dampen his mood. Connor got off his stool, drawing near to the window. The helicopter was on the ground now. The smaller trees nearby bent back from the force of its blades.

"Wow!" Connor exclaimed, turning back to Tim. "Do helicopters land here often?"

Tim let out a long sigh. "Only when they're picking resident assassins up from school."

Connor gaped at him, his mouth wide open. "Damian goes to school – in a helicopter?"

"Yeah," Tim answered, resting his cheek on his palm. "The brat demanded it."

"Well," Connor glanced back at the helicopter appreciatively, "the kid may be a prick, but he travels in style."

"Huh?" Tim's head snapped up, "You do remember that you can actually fly right?"

Connor shrugged, making his way back to the stool. "Never been in a helicopter," he answered simply.

Alfred walked into the kitchen. Seeing Connor there, a small smile touched his face. He was glad to see Tim pulled away from case files and acting like a normal teenager – well as normal as it could get living with vigilantes.

"Will you be joining us for dinner, Mr Kent?" Alfred asked, making his way around the counter to start his preparations for dinner.

"Tempting – but I'll be home before then." Connor grinned, sending an appreciative nod at the tray of muffins, "Ma will want to know that she has competition."

Alfred inclined his head, a noticeable smile on his face. It was not every day that one had the honour of being compared to the Ma Kent. "I'm glad you like them Mr Kent."

"Pennyworth!"

Tim barely stopped the involuntary eye roll that occurred when Damian was nearby. He was wondering when the little brat would make an appearance.

"I demand an explanation!"

Damian paused as he entered the kitchen, registering that Alfred was not alone. Seeing only Drake and his inane super friend, he continued.

"I almost had to endure Jon flying me home!"

Tim raised an eyebrow at Alfred, the question clear in the gesture.

Alfred decided to respond. "The young Master Damian is greatly aggrieved that I was later than usual in picking him up from school today."

"He almost carried me home." Damian cried, fixing his steely gaze on Alfred. "You would have been responsible for the great indignity to befall the Wayne household."

"Oh dear." Alfred answered dryly as laid out vegetables on a chopping board. "I would never live down the shame."

Connor let out a snort. He couldn't help it. Connor had never seen the kid riled up over something so... childish. He quickly smothered it into another bite of his muffin as Damian sent him a withering glare.

"Actually," Tim pointed out, "Jon flying you home would be more efficient."

Damian shifted his glare onto Tim.

"Despite your obvious need for it," Damian scoffed, "I have managed to refrain from mentioning that someone ought to fly you around during missions Drake."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Taking you home from school hardly resembles a mission – well accept for Alfred"

"I appreciate the acknowledgement Master Timothy."

Connor didn't even bother to hide his snort this time, earning another glare from Damian. It was worth it though, Wayne family bickering tended to be rather entertaining.

"Besides," Connor added, deciding it was time to enter the conversation. "I do carry you around during missions."

Tim gaped at his best friend, betrayed. "That was one time!" he cried.

Connor grinned, raising an eyebrow. Tim pointedly ignored the look. So maybe it had been more than one time.

"Of course, he does," Damian sneered, turning to Tim. "At least now you cannot further tarnish the Robin mantel."

Tim's eyes narrowed. "Listen here you little –"

"Ah, Master Bruce," Alfred interjected. "how nice of you to join us."

Bruce froze in the entryway. Reluctantly, he entered the kitchen sending Alfred a dull look as he did so. His usual approach upon stumbling into one of the many arguments that his two younger sons found themselves in – was to quietly slip away. Alfred pushed a second tray of assorted baked goods toward Bruce.

"Now that Master Dick has refrained from paying his nightly visits to the kitchen, I actually have snacks to offer." Alfred commented.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "he does that often?"

Alfred sighed, moving back to his dinner preparations "Often enough – although he hasn't since he came to see Master Timothy."

Tim squirmed in his seat, ignoring Bruce's gaze. He remembered all too well how that visit had ended.

"Grayson has been here?" Damian asked, failing to keep the surprise out of his tone.

Alfred nodded.

Damian's brows furrowed together slightly, "To see… Drake." The last word came out flat, making it sound more like a statement than a question.

"You got a problem with that, brat?" Tim challenged.

Bruce sighed inwardly. Even five minutes was too much to ask for. Connor noticed the look. It was a little odd to see the Batman's frustration over quarreling kids. Maybe his friendship with Clark wasn't such a mystery after all.

"I am merely questioning his taste in company," Damian scoffed.

Tim rolled his eyes. "You can start questioning it when he goes out of his way to see you."

Damian paused. There was a slight flicker behind his eyes. He covered it up instantly with a scowl and a haughty scoff.

"I will take my dinner in my room this evening Pennyworth." Damian said, stalking out of the kitchen.

Alfred's eyes followed Damian as he left the room. Although he covered it up well, Alfred had noticed the flash of hurt that had crossed Damian's features. It appeared the young master was not as adept at hiding his emotions as he liked to believe.

His muscles ached. The sweat had long since drenched his shirt. Still, he kept going. If he was lucky, eventually he'd exert himself enough to pass out. After a particularly forceful hit, Jason reached his hands out to steady the punching bag as he caught his breath.

"That can't be healthy,"

Jason spun around quickly, launching a knife in the direction of the intruder. Roy flinched as the knife buried itself deep into the wall, inches from his head. He looked at it wearily before turning back to Jason.

"Still mad, huh?"

"Did you have to enter my apartment through the window?" Jason chastised, walking past Roy to close the window he had left open.

"Did you have to ignore my calls?" Roy countered.

Jason ignored the question. He walked over to his towel and wiped his neck. Roy's eyes drifted to the case files on Jason's bed.

"How'd you get these?" He asked, flipping through the files.

"I'm resourceful."

Roy sighed. Jason could be really difficult when he got in one of his moods. He fixed his focus back on the files. It was a collection of intel on the Gotham Hunters. Looked like there was still a lot that was unknown about the gang - other than they were small and targeted kids. Roy paused. They even sold drugs to kids too. His eyes narrowed. Jason had information on their next transport at least.

"So, you're gonna hit the next transport?" Roy asked.

Jason nodded.

Roy peered over the files at Jason, "And then what Jay? You're going to obsess over this gang forever?"

Jason walked over to him, taking the case files from his hands.

"Just planning a few hits. It's a small gang. I inconvenience them enough; the other gangs will do the work for me."

"So, you're giving an opportunity for other gangs to snuff out their competition - I doubt they'll be kind Jay."

Jason shrugged. "It's Gotham. No one's kind."

Roy studied his friend carefully. He looked tired - not just from his weirdly timed workout. If the bags under his eyes were anything to go by, Jason hadn't been sleeping. Roy had endured his own share of sleepless nights, but somehow, it seemed so much worse for Jason. Despite everything, there were some things he wouldn't ever get to understand about how Jason's past affected him. Oh, he knew the whole getting murdered and coming back thing probably wasn't a lot of fun. Not to mention the family issues – although, for Roy, that at least he could understand. But at times like these he couldn't help but feel that there was a lot that was hidden from him. From everyone.

Jason raised an eyebrow, "Any particular reason you're trying to memorise my face?"

Roy quickly covered up his thoughts. Pushing past Jason, he headed for the kitchen. Jason sighed, putting the case files away before following him. He found Roy buried in the fridge, inspecting its contents.

"Jay, you need to restock."

Roy absently threw a beer back at Jason. Jason held back a groan as he saw that the bottle's arc was going to land it a great distance in front of Jason. He quickly moved to catch it before it hit the ground.

"Do you need to throw things around?"

Roy finally pulled his head out of the fridge, turning to face Jason with a soda can in hand.

"No harm done,"

"Easy to say when you didn't pay for it."

Roy merely shrugged before placing an arm around Jason to purposefully usher him out of the room. Jason glanced sidelong at his friend. Roy was being oddly deliberate with his movements.

"Have something in mind Roy?"

"Oh, not really," Roy grinned, "just a good old-fashioned guys night."

Yeah, maybe Roy couldn't entirely understand what Jason was going through – or how to help exactly. But for one night at least, he could take his friend's mind off things.

"Dick, this really isn't what I thought you had in mind."

Red Robin trailed close behind his brother, swinging through the streets of Gotham. When Dick had suggested some time to hang out, he had thought maybe a night in at Dick's apartment. Although, as Tim recalled the time Dick had taken him train jumping – with blindfolds no less. He realised he should have expected it really. Dick's ideas of hanging out usually involved something unusual.

"Of course not," Dick replied, effortlessly gliding through the air, "This is more fun."

The sound of an explosion surprised the young heroes. They swung onto a nearby rooftop. Tim landed simply on his feet. A practical landing. He turned around to see Dick swing off his line and execute a flawless flip before landing on the roof gracefully. Show off.

The heroes examined their surroundings trying to figure out where the explosion would have occurred. It sounded small – so they wouldn't be able to see any damage on the outside. An explosion sounded again.

"It came from that building," Tim said pointing a block down.

"Way ahead of you Tim."

Of course, Nightwing had already begun swinging toward the building. Tim had to admire the grace with which he moved through the air. Sure, all bats were familiar with the skill of navigating Gotham with a grappling gun – they had to be. But Dick, he made it look like an art. He was at home in the air.

Tim launched his own grappling gun and followed after him.

"You won't be for long."

Jason exhaled slowly from under the truck he was trailing, careful not to make any unnecessary movements. It was unlikely that anyone would think of looking under this truck. Still, it always paid to take every precaution – that's what Bruce used to say anyway.

They were slowing down. Jason lowered himself slightly. He could see better from this angle – even if it left him a little exposed. The truck was rolling into a hanger. The transport location?

"Pete, about time!"

Jason quickly pulled himself up, hiding himself in the heavy shadows of the truck. Alright, a transport location – with company. Pete must have been the driver of the truck he was under. Jason's eyes followed his footsteps as he got out to greet the group.

"Relax would ya? Five minutes won't change anything."

Deciding it was safe, Jason lowered his body again to get a better look at the place. Pete had parked his truck to the right most side of the hanger. Looking to his left, Jason spotted two more trucks. That made three trucks altogether. It was a substantial load of drugs. Most of which would be sold to kids. The thought sickened him. Even in his brief stint as crime lord, Jason had never targeted kids.

Jason continued to scan the room. Strange. There were only three trucks. Which meant there should only be three drivers. So why were there three extra men? – armed men at that. A slow grin crept onto Jason's face. Looked like the Hunters were riled up from the last time. Interesting. Jason placed a small bomb under his truck. He'd give them something to rile up over.

He quickly rolled out from under the truck. With the truck still shielding his movements, he moved further right, out of the bomb's blast radius. The loud blast reverberated through the room. The truck's windows shattered. Jason had to bring his arms up to shield himself from the large shards of metal. The fire was already beginning to die down. It was a small bomb, but it did the job – and it was enough to spook the gang members.

"What the hell?" Pete cried, turning around to see his truck up in flames.

"Well, that Pete…" Jason said as he emerged through the wreckage, pistols in hand, "would be me."

The armed men growled, seeing the red mask.

"The Red Hood."

"One and only," Jason affirmed. He idly spun a gun on his finger before letting it stop aimed straight at the guy who had spoken. "But then again, you already knew that."

The man pulled his gun up to shoot. Jason was faster. In an instant he had shot directly into the barrel of the man's gun. It exploded in the man's hand. He cried out in pain, reflexively dropping the weapon.

"Use the smoke bombs you idiots!" One of the other men shouted.

Jason managed to shoot one more man in the shoulder, before they were engulfed in smoke. Damn, looked like the gang had grown some form of a brain since his last visit. The smoke cloud would dissipate soon enough. He'd be ready then. His main targets were the drug transports anyway. Jason shot into the smoke cloud to keep them on their toes, before sprinting toward the truck on the other side of the hanger. While the cloud obscured the men from his vision, it meant that they couldn't see him either. He intended to take full advantage of that.

Before he made it to the other end, a stray bullet caught him in the shoulder. He avoided two more that had come out of the smoke. Jason grunted. It was a lucky shot. He could feel the bullet as his muscles tensed. Repressing any further noise of the injury, he continued his dash across the hanger. It wouldn't do to let the guys know that they had landed a hit.

He reached the truck on the other end and climbed on top of it, gaining a vantage point. He winced, feeling the bullet again and made a mental note to go easy with that arm. He quickly threw a bomb over at the third truck. It went up in flames, pieces of it scattered around the hanger - just as the smoke cloud dissipated. Finally. Jason brought his pistols up. Now he could see his targets.

Of course, it had to be at that moment that two throwing discs knocked the pistols out of his hands. Once again, the criminals were engulfed in smoke. The kind that Jason was very familiar with.

"Which one of you idiots set off another smoke bomb?" he heard one of the people complain as a flash of blue and red entered the smoke.

Jason groaned inwardly. It seemed that no matter what he did in this damn city, he was doomed to fall into some sort of family reunion. Deciding to let the intrusive bats take care of his guys, he placed a bomb on his truck before jumping off. So much for that vantage point.

As he re-holstered his pistols, the second smoke cloud dissipated. It cleared to reveal Nightwing and Red Robin with the gang members knocked out and cuffed. Of course, they'd do it the boring way. They looked behind Jason eyes widening, realising the incoming explosion. They brought their arms up to shield themselves as the last bomb went off.

Dick looked up first. "Is that really necessary Jason?"

"I thought I told you not to make this a habit."

"Well," Dick said, looking around at what remained of the trucks, "you were making a lot of noise."

It was then that Jason's eyes fell onto Tim. The kid was studying him intently.

Jason scoffed "Take a picture Replacement, it'll last longer."

"Your arm," Tim pointed out, ignoring the dig.

Oh, right that. Now that Tim had mentioned it, the pain was flaring up again. He'd be damned if he let them know that though. Dick snapped his eyes to Jason's bullet wound.

"Jason, you're hurt!" he said, concern clouding his features.

Jason rolled his eyes. One would think the circus boy would freak out less - especially considering that Jason had survived literally being dead before.

"It's barely grazed."

Tim wore an incredulous expression at that remark.

"Jason, don't be ridiculous," Dick told him "We've got to get you patched up."

Jason backed away. "I can take care of myself, Wingnut."

"Jason," Dick groaned, exasperated "Just let me help."

"I don't need it." Jason said turning to walk away, "I've got everything I need at my apartment."

"Great," Dick started following, "We'll come with you."

"Uh, Dick?" Tim began, growing a little uncomfortable. That was definitely the opposite of giving Jason space.

Jason stopped. No way were they going anywhere near his apartment. He could probably ditch them somehow on the way there. Although, Dick could be pretty damn persistent when he wanted to be. Jason sighed deeply. Why did he have to be so difficult?

"Fine," Jason groaned, "but you're not coming to my place – And we're not going to the cave."

So yes I decided to add Connor - can't have Tim without Connor after all, that would just be absurd! (hint, hint DC Comics). I know it wasn't a lot of Damian - but we will see more of him! - I'm thinking of doing a scene with him and Jon because they are adorable babies, but I'll have to think about where to add them in. Jason and Roy I think have an interesting and wholesome relationship. I was originally going to have Roy apologise to Jason in some way - but then I decided that it's really not a crime to look after your best friend. I think that with things like this they don't really have to apologise to each other and they wouldn't get all mushy or anything - although I know that they probably are capable of that. I know I cut off right before the any bonding between the three brothers could begin - but not to worry that'll be in the next chapter.

Also once again thank you for the follows/ favourites/ comments - it always makes my day when I get them so please keep them coming! I love hearing what you guys think of the story and where it should go. Please let me know what you think of this chapter - and what you think can be improved.

Well, until next time all you lovely people :)