A/N: Inspiration strikes yet again. I really love writing Damian, even though I haven't written him for a while. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please let me know what you think!

Also, if you have a moment please check out the poll on my profile page. I'd appreciate the feedback so I can try and stay out of a writing slump :)

Disclaimer: I do not own DC Comics.

"I told you, Drake. I can handle this." Damian emphasized for the tenth time that night. Gotham was as awake as ever, cars zipping around corners and people shrieking with either fits of laughter or actual terror. It was the kind of evening that criminals were sure to strike in, and the young Robin could feel the thrum of a fight underneath his skin. The breeze ruffled his hair as he perched within the shadows, eyes scanning the streets for any crooks.

"Sure," the teen said through the com, his tone sarcastic. "That's exactly why Batman lets you go out on missions by yourself all the time. You're just taking advantage of the fact that he isn't here."

"Just because Father is off-world doesn't mean this city must go without a protector," Damian argued, feeling like he was repeating himself yet again. "Both Nightwing and Red Hood are not around, and you are incapable of combat."

If the comment stung, the teen didn't show it. Damian breathed out his annoyance, both at the older boy and his silence. He had been adamant when he left the cave that he was perfectly qualified to defend the citizens of Gotham in his father's absence. Even with Grayson and Todd investigating a crime out of the city, he could do it without their help. But the moment he'd stepped out into the field Drake had taken up his post at the computer, acting as Damian's babysitter through the com link. It was safe to say that Damian was less than pleased with the arrangement.

"Are you doing this to watch over Gotham? Or do you have something to prove?" Drake questioned, laced with innocence and curiosity.

But the question sent anger through Damian like a bullet. He glared into the air behind his mask, clenching his jaw. "Tt. I have nothing to prove. Father knows that I am the best Robin there ever was; better than any of you imbeciles were. No one compares to me."

"Right," Drake answered, his voice neutral. Though he was still physically weak, Drake's voice had retained its annoying strength which constantly filled Damian's head with warnings to behave. Drake brushed off the comment, most likely used to hearing similar phrases over the course of knowing Damian.

It only angered the younger boy further, and he rose from his crouched position, fuming in silence. Who said that he had to listen to Drake, anyways? The teen was just a stalker who felt that he had the authority to keep Damian from carrying out his birthright. Even if Drake was older, he wasn't even on the same level as Damian. The teen had no right to hold him back. He reached up, intending to rip the com out and smash it under his foot. Then he'd be on his own without the older boy's annoying remarks every five seconds.

"If you take out the com," Drake warned knowingly, as if he were watching, "I'm calling Bruce."

Damian let out a growl, moving his hand from his ear and punching the nearby wall in frustration. Ignoring Drake was one thing; he didn't care about the imbecile finding out what he was up to. His father, however…

Well, he was not someone that Damian wanted to outright disobey, to put it lightly. Once he returned, the Bat was sure to find out what Damian had been up to. But there was no way he was getting caught before he'd even begun. The young Robin growled again, this time more out of irritation. "You are enjoying this, aren't you, Drake?"

"Not at all," Drake replied, and not an ounce of Damian believed him. The younger boy could just picture the teen sitting there, a smirk on his face that Damian had the urge to wipe off with his own hands. "If you're going to go off on your own, I'm coming with you; physically or not."

"Imbecile," Damian muttered under his breath. But he was trapped in the middle; either he continued to leave the com on or allow the call to his father to go through. Damian would much rather keep the latter from going through. "Let me ask the first criminal I encounter to bash my head into the nearest hard surface."

"I'll just tell Alfred now to treat you for a concussion," Drake supplied, falsely helpful. The amusement in his voice could almost be heard, but he hid it well.

Damian rolled his eyes behind his mask, but didn't add to the comment. For once he found it better to let it go, lest his brain suffer more damage from Drake's voice. He shot off his grappling with a precise movement and swung, his form arcing through the air with ease until he landed with a light thud onto a shadowy rooftop. The back alleyways were just as dark below, only to emerge into the dimly lit Gotham streets. It was the yelling a few seconds later that drew him across the rooftop to the other side. Damian peered down, finding that he was witnessing a mugging taking place.

It took only another moment for the current Robin to intervene, launching himself down from the roof. The mugger was hunched over, arm poised and ready to strike his victim with a metal pipe. Damian landed his feet into the attacker's back, forcing him to the ground. As the man fell, Damian sprung upwards and then landed on the lid of a dumpster, straightening up. The man turned and glared, "Little brat. Where's Batman?"

"He sends his regards," Damian said, and then with a yell pounced on the man. His hands flew outwards, and he landed a few hard blows. The man grabbed Damian's cape, attempting to yank him backwards. Instead Damian kneed him in the gut, and then brought his fist up into an uppercut. The assaulter fell unconscious, slumped at the feet of the young Robin. It wasn't a very fulfilling fight, but that wasn't exactly the point. Damian looked around, but the victim had run and escaped during the very brief brawl. Oh well, it was one less problem he had to take care of.

"Nice work," Drake said, though his voice did not sound in the least bit impressed. At the same time, it was criticizing either. Damian found it hard to believe that the teen was actually complimenting him. "There's suspicious activity going on a few blocks from here. Think you can make it?"

"Don't question my capability," Damian warned, and took off down the street to investigate.

By the time patrol was halfway over, Damian had stopped three robberies, four drug deals, two attempted murders, and sent all of the captured criminals the GCPD's way. The adrenaline was quick in his veins, and each time he stopped a crime he felt quite proud of himself. He considered it a rather accomplished night, though there was an aggravation present like an itch he couldn't scratch. And it just so happened that this itch was named Drake.

"Come here you little punk!" The crook reached out and attempted to grab Damian, but the young Robin jumped back from his grasp. "I'm gonna send you back to the Bat with all your feathers plucked!"

"How terrifying," Damian said, not in the slightest bit amused. "Unfortunately I am far from convinced that will happen."

The young Robin stood in the center of a group of crooks, all of them armed with some sort of weapon; knives mainly. None were pleased to see him, but that couldn't be helped. At least Damian was making some sort of impression, though they didn't take him as seriously as his father. It was evident by the way they stood, almost unconcerned about his presence there. He glared at the group behind his mask, and then dove forwards. At the same time the criminals lunged at him, only to meet various blows introduced by the ten year old.

Heated hand to hand combat ensued, an intense striking of limbs that Damian thoroughly enjoyed. He grabbed a man by his collar and flipped him over his shoulder. Once he fell he jumped into the air as two more of his opponents came at him, kicking them both square in the jaw. They stumbled back, and Damian was quick to knock them off their feet almost simultaneously. A grin spread onto his face, and he turned around triumphantly. "Ha! Look at that—"

He cut himself off, the word clinging to his tongue as he looked into the empty street, no one else but the criminals and him standing there. In his mind the word echoed, heightening the sense of emptiness.

Drake.

Damian sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly, while on the other end of the com Drake questioned, "What?"

"Nothing," Damian said dismissively, "Just place a call to the cops. These poor excuses for criminals are not worth any more of my time."

He hurried away from the scene as he spoke, disappearing back into the shadows with his mind reeling certain thoughts over and over. It was true that at times he couldn't stand the teen at all. But he had gotten used to Drake's presence and the missions they'd had to endure together. Mostly they had to endure each other, but even that was not much of a chore anymore. Damian was able to point out his successes to the teen, while mocking the other boy's fighting at the same time. With the two of them, fighting in Gotham had a bit more excitement to it. With all of the feelings coming to light, Damian reluctantly came to another realization.

The field without Drake was rather boring.

Sigh.

"Everything alright?" Drake's voice broke Damian out of his thoughts.

"A stupid question to ask," Damian replied, irritably. "You hear me breathing, don't you?"

He could practically see the teen rolling his eyes. Nothing more was said, and Damian decided to get a better view than just the ground. He scaled the side of a building, perching himself upon one of the marble gargoyle statues around the city. The wind rolled passed, colder than before, and Damian braced himself against it. He liked being perched up high; it was a place of silence that not many could disturb. Because of that his thoughts began to wander again, and before he could truly consider what he was saying he said, "Tell me why you are doing this."

"Doing what?" Drake questioned. "Not talking?"

"No, but I wish you would do that more often," Damian said, and then got back on track. "Why have you not called my father? You are well aware that I am breaking his rules."

Drake responded easily, "It's not like he's never going to find out. I'm just not bringing it to his attention right away."

"Yes, we have established that, idiot." Damian said impatiently. "My father is the World's Greatest Detective, I expect him to know what I have done. But you have chosen to not inform him. You have not yet told me why."

There was a moment of silence on the com, and then Drake said in an unusually quiet voice, "We all want freedom, Damian. I know that you're trying to prove that you can handle yourself. But that isn't the point. Batman and Robin are a duo. That's what we are trying to get you to see. It's not about working alone, it's about working together."

"So you allow me out on my own so that I will learn teamwork?" Damian scoffed, "In what way is that remotely logical?"

"Back to the freedom part," Drake said calmly. "You're on a short leash. I know that you're trying to follow in Batman's footsteps. So I let you go. It's different being out on your own, isn't it?"

He didn't want to admit that the teen was right. But Damian had spent the last twenty minute thinking about how it was to be alone, and he hadn't truly enjoyed the experience. Deep down he'd had enough of parading around Gotham on his own for a while; he was content to work with others until he needed to stretch his legs again. There was no way he was telling that to Drake though, and so he said flatly, "I despise how confident you are in thinking you know me. You couldn't be further from it, Drake."

"Sure," Drake said, and it was evident that he was now amused. The smirk was practically shining in his tone. "And by the way, Batman is supposed to return in about half an hour."

Damian would also never admit that he almost jumped out of his skin hearing that.

"Is that a challenge?" Damian quickly descended from the statue, hurrying to where he'd left his motorcycle.

"Could be," Drake answered, the smirk still in his voice. "Or maybe I'm just giving you a warning."

The bike was right where he'd left it, hidden and without a scratch. Damian quickly moved it into out of its hiding spot and mounted it, starting the engine. It roared to life, and the young Robin asked, "How long are you betting I'll take?"

"Fifteen minutes," Drake said. "Think you can make it?"

"Tt," Damian replied with a smirk. "That's child's play."

And with that Damian sped down Gotham's streets, heading for Wayne Manor.