(Damian's P.O.V)
My head was spinning and the insufficient amount of quiet was not helping.
A nuisance *beep beep beep* was heard as to what I presume is a heart monitor and not-so-quiet whispering rang through my ears. I peel my eyes open a crack an discover it was Grayson and the Dusks' attempted whispering joined by frustrated and angry expressions displayed on Charlotte and Daniel's features while a pure look of guilt was etched out in Grayson's facial expression as he pleaded while attempting to explain some intubation the the infuriated twins. It as them whom have woken me and annoyed my ear drums with their useless bickering.
"He was flippin' shot Dick." Charlotte began.
"I know, I know, you don't need to talk so loud," Grayson muttered, clearly not happy about having to defend himself to a few fourteen-year-olds.
"And it's your fault," Daniel added on. "How's the girl?"
I tuned out the rest of their pointless and pathetic conversation as I remember Daniel's words, 'the girl... The girl...' Oh holy satan, Jasmine. I cursed in Arabic before bolting out of the rock hard bed. I saw the others snap their heads towards the now unoccupied bed once the heart monitor began to flat line, I accidentally disconnected it, the drip and abundance of other useless needles in my arms, legs and torso.
While staggering towards the pristine white door, I felt a somewhat small, calloused hand grip my bicep. Looking up the tan-white skin forearm and the checked three-quarter sleeved clad arm to see Charlotte with her deep brown hair pulled back into her usual ponytail with a red and black checked top unbuttoned with a black tee-shirt underneath with dark washed jeans and red converses.
"Where you think your goin'?" Her familiar voice and cut offs rang through my ears.
Attempting to reply, my voice was hoarse and my throat burned, a minor pain was an insignificant set back. "Ja-*cough*-Jasm-ine" my chest puffed as I managed to get her name out.
"Dames, when Jasmine was shot she... The bullet knocked her spine, there is a strong a possibility she is going to be permanently paralysed." Danny spoke up, pity and sorrow evident in his voice and features.
"How long have I been out?" Emotion somehow etched its way into my question before blanking my voice out and returning to monotone.
Silence.
"How long have I been out?" This time my voice was aggressive a I slowly over exaggerated each individual word. "A day? A week? How long?!"
"Two and a half months." Charlotte blurted out suddenly, she always had a soft spot for humans and animals.
I felt my eyes turn to sources befriend regaining my composure. "What? Where in the fires of hell is she?"
"364." It was barely a whisper escaping between her semi-parted lips, but it was enough.
-
(3rd Person's P.O.V.)
The door to Gotham's General Hospital room 364 burst open with a sudden jolt of force as it slammed back, clashing with the pristine white wall, neither the current occupant of the room reacting to the loud, attention-seeking noise nor the sweaty, crushed boy who caused this mess to begin with. His features instantly softened, a rare occurrence, as he spotted the comatose girl.
Her skin had become a slickly pale as dark circles rimmed her eyes with several strands of obsidian black hair escaped as she now had long tresses flowing down, just past her elbows.
He walked over hesitantly and pulled a cheep chair to the side of the elevated hospital bed. Just before he took off down the corridor, Dick had quietly mumbled to him that she had been in a coma, she occasionally mutters random syllables and incoherent sentences, however that has only happened twice in nearly three months, so it was unlikely.
He grasped her pale, worrisomely thin hand in his own clammy, calloused ones, the rise and fall of her chest and the steady beeping emitting from the heart monitor were the only things keeping him from completely breaking down, the only things in the world capable of constantly reminding him that he would believe that she is still here, still breathing, still alive.
It was painfully quiet when he awoke, heck, he didn't even remember falling asleep, how could he? Especially at a time like this.
The eerily silence was getting to him, silence. Wait, no. No! It's not meant to be silent there was supposed to be a annoyingly piercing beep if a heart monitor. No beep, no noise. Silence.
Damian snapped his eyes open, taking in his surroundings. He was in his room, at the Manor. How the hell did he get here?
Suddenly, a muscular, feminine figure blocked out his view of everything else. Once settling on her piercing, ocean depths blue eyes, he instantly stuttered out one word he hadn't spoken in months.
"Ja-Jasmine?"
The figure smirked, "Hey Dami. I missed you. What? No Welcome back kiss?"
Kiss?
All of a sudden, a warm, smooth texture was pressing against his lips with the girls facing incredibly close. Giving in, he sighed and kissed back, he has waited awhile for this and it felt so nice. Searing pain slashed through his abdomen and break broke the kiss with a gasp as he retracted his hand which had instinctively packed itself on his stomach after the pain. Blood, crimson droplets seeped off of his fingers, staying the expensive carpet he stood on.
"You know you're pathetic right? You suck at being Robin, Bruce will never love you and your own Mother abandoned you because she found no more need to have you in her life. How could you ever think anyone would ever accept or love someone like you, you're an assassin, you murdered innocent people, you slaughterer!" With each word that passed the girls lips, Damian's heart clenched a little more and cracked with the gruesome, disgusted expression on her face.
He only now noticed his surrounding had changed, it was just pitch black. No light, no outlines of objects just... darkness. The heart-broken boy watched as the girl faded away the further and further away she walked, slowly disappearing out of his life.
Charlotte walks up to the crippled, bloodstained boy, a smirk plastered on his face as if she sadistically enjoyed watch the teenage in pain. Daniel soon followed behind his sister, a similar look on his face, although less intimidating for the blanket of freckles that coated his face.
Charlie pulled her fist back and swung, her fist landing at Damian's jaw with a satisfying crack. His arm was groped by the younger boy as he slowly bent the elbow back, the raven hair, green eyed boy groaned in pain as his body protested against the immense pain shooting through out his muscular body.
"You know the funniest thing? You actually still think you could ever be accepted, Mum ditched you, leaving you abandoned at your Dad's while she continued to train me. She only loved me, you were a useless weapon, desperately attempting to make her proud and yet failing miserably with each and every moment you are alive." Charlie's words etched its way into his mind. As much as it killed the wounded boy inside, all of what the younger girl spoke of was true.
His oldest friends looked at him in disgust, as they continued to beat the collapsed boy while insulting everything he has ever known or loved, the demon spawn gave up as silent, sullen tears seeped from his bloodshot, dull eyes.
(Dick's P.O.V.)
Shoot. I swear I never meant for any other this to happen.
There was this new villain, she had been on a crime spree recently, just your classic petty theft although there has been suspicion that she is leagued up with Scarecrow, aka Doctor Jonathan Crane, the deadly super villain whom is obsessed with 'curing' everyone of there fears by intoxicating them and have the victim relieve their worst possible nightmare over and over and over again. Many innocents halved committed suicide after or during being exposed to said 'fear toxin'. It is rumoured that Joe Chill, common thief and everyone knows what he has done yet has never been caught, is also paired up with Crane, apparently Chill and this, female we are currently chasing are linked.
She ran swiftly, skilfully moving her body in precise, practised movements, every move she made was calculated and confident, she moved with purpose, not something many common thiefs' do unless they have been trained to do so.
I swung my fist into her gut, as a gush of air noticeably escaped her lungs, keeping my momentum I kicked my foot weakly, allowing her to grab hold my armour-clad leg before propelling my body into the air and bring up my spare foot with a woosh until it connected to her jaw with a sickening yet satisfying crack. Just before landing flat on my back having no feet on the ground tho hold me up, I hatched my back swinging my arms around my head before connecting with the ground, doing a back handspring and landing neatly on the edge of the current roof top where the fight was taking place. Perks of being raised in a circus with acrobats for parents.
Obviously aware that she was getting creamed by me and my amazing talent, she whipping out a sleek, black pistol, randomly firing in my general direction, I dodged all the bullets with just one nipping my shoulder, however my kevlar mainly protected me so it was all good with a small amount of glass shattering, which I assume is where the deadly bullets impacted.
I run up, grabbing her wrist and bicep before applying enough pressure to her exposed wrist and the gun fell out of her hand and onto the roof top with a clang of impact between the concrete and metal. With lightning flash speed two of my fingers landed precisely between the middle of her rib cage, successfully temporarily winding her. While she instinctively bent over from the sudden force of air leaving her now unoccupied lungs, I pressed my padded thumb into the crook between her shoulder blade and collar bone onto the pressure point, knocking her out.
As she collapsed to the ground I was able to fully take in her appearance, cruel, cold green irises cover by pale eyelids and dead straight, brown, shoulder length hair fell into her face and sprawled around her head and if some of her exposed skin was anything to go by, she was extremely pale. It was the spitting image of Joe Chill.
After running her through the facial recognition system, B shows up as I enter through the broken window to see the damage that the bullet created.
I froze in shock, Damian collapsed to the ground in a heap and Jasmine soon follows. "Nightwing" Batman's harsh voice snapped me out off whatever trance I was in, as I saw him pick up Jasmine whose shirt had been drenched in blood. What is it with this girl and hospitals?
I lean over to pick-up my non-biological, baby brother -he would strangle me if he heard me say that- and hooked my arm underneath his knees and the other looped around his back as I carried him bridal style. Little D would also tear me apart limb, by limb if he saw or heard that I carried him like dome damsel in distress that was just saved by some random Prince Charming in fairytales.
After further inspection of his wounds on the seemingly endless journey to the hospital, I realised he was actually shot twice, stupid boy, then again he was closer to the window, they both had several light scrapes and slices from the glass shards that would heal in a two weeks tops. The metal lodged into his bicep and behind the knee cap may take a while longer, two to three moths I recon.
After we had arrived at the hospital -a place we would seriously visit way too often to be classified as 'regular check-ups' if it wasn't for Alfred being an ex-medic and soldier. Gotta love having and old military man who was top of his class as your butler- I got a notification on my holo-computer that the girl from earlier had got a match.
Osietha Joanne Chill
Before I could plan to look into it any further, Charlie and Danny dragged me over and began harassing me for details.
Damn, those guys can scare you if they want to. I mean, they have Talia as their Mother.
I walked into Jasmine's room, making sure I wasn't too pound as to not awaken poor Damian whose face contorted in pain and hurt as he sat there, restless with his head on the edge of the bed, fingers untwined with the comatose girl.
I pulled up the information on Osietha Chill through the databases as I scanned the details while summing it up in my head.
Classic criminal record, petty theft, assault, robbery, muggings, violence, abuse, physical bullying. One sister, no other siblings, mother deceased father infamous criminal. Siblings never got along. Left home at nine with her father, leaving behind her sister. Parents never married. Went by fathers last name, sister went by the mothers. Never been seen in two and a half years. Dropped out of school. Disappeared still a missing person case that has been closed.
I look up to the young teenagers unconscious in front of me, more specifically the black haired, blue eyed girl who has been lying to us this whole time after I finish reading the information on this new criminal. Why? Why did she lie?
Birthday: 28th February 2001
Parents: Joe Chill -Occasionally appears by the alias Markus Phillophinie, unknown whereabouts (Father) Rosaline Quest -Deceased (Mother)
Siblings: Jasmine Quest -Gotham City (Twin Sister)