Chapter 1: Damian

A/N Please read.

All credits go to the original creators. Please forgive any grammar mistakes, or notify me for future reference. Also please understand that I am not well versed in the timeline surrounding the Bat Family. If something is off, or completely impossible, just remember that this an AU where many different story lines are mashed together. This is pretty much a "Dick Grayson is awesome" story.

It was raining in the gloomy streets of Gotham. The clouds blotting out the already dim moon light, and accentuating the shadows that lurked seemingly everywhere. The streetlights flickered ominously, and the few that did work bathed the sidewalk in a sick greenish tint.

The foreboding atmosphere was unfortunately commonplace in a crime-ridden city such as Gotham, and did not deter any of the normal street thugs that took refuge in the city from making an appearance. Though it also didn't stop a pair of masked vigilantes, who were both perched high above the streets. Away from the devious intent that they would inevitably stop.

Crouched upon the high ledge of a building beneath the pounding raindrops; eyes locking onto every person who dared move during the perilous hour, was a boy.

The boy was dressed in a black and yellow hooded cloak, (though the hood was down), and he wore a suit made of Kevlar, a green domino mask, and large green gloves fitted with compartments. Wrapped around his torso like a vest was a thick red chest plate, an "R" proudly displayed, like a family emblem over his heart. His legs were muscly, and fit, easily seen in the skin-tight black material.

The boy's hair was flattened by the cold rain, but some of it still remained pointed, like a mop of deadly spikes. Lowering his binoculars the boy scoffed.

Across from the two, down in an alleyway littered with muddled garbage, there were about seven goons. Each held a makeshift weapon in their hands, (probably meaning they weren't professionals). Three of the group were herding along a couple into the alley, the woman looking fearful, and the man giving off the aura of a fed up snob.

The man was pushed into a wall, and it appeared as though the goons were taunting him.

The boy was about to call it out, but he was interrupted before he could.

"I see them. Robin, I will cut them off, you handle the civilians; once they are safe start sending those guys my way. Absolutely no killing." The voice speaking was raspy, and low.

Due to the rain, and the plunking of the many droplets on the roof, it took Robin several seconds to understand his orders. But before he could even respond Robin was left behind by his mentor.

The elder already disappearing into the shadows. Hissing a few complaints under his breath Robin complied, reaching to his belt and fishing out a grappling hook.

A quiet fwip!- was heard as the boy, appearing to be no older than twelve years old, shot off across the street. His cape flapped behind him in the wind.

"Tch," he growled. Damn Batman.

--line break--

It turns out that those thugs did, in fact know how to use their rough toys. If the excruciating pain coming from his kneecap was anything to go by. Seriously though, did Gotham have an open air market for crowbars or what? Way too common, not to mention that his two years away from assassin life had dulled his tolerance to pain.

As they finally arrived back at home to the Cave, Robin, now Damian Wayne, peeled off his mask. The pain seemed to have lessened and he could walk in a straight line with only a slight limp.

Batman, or rather Bruce Wayne, was sat at a large computer within the cave. His fingers flew across the keys as if he had grown up typing like a maniac.

"Master Bruce, how was the night life? As colorful as usual I presume." Alfred Pennyworth stood at the entrance of the cave. A medical bag was slung over one arm as it was crossed in front of his chest. Even though he didn't look it, the butler of the Wayne mansion was amused.

"Master Damian." The old man nodded his head towards Bruce's son, then the sickbay. Eyes firmly locked on the boy's left leg. For a second he thought about refusing, but Damian merely huffed and stalked towards one of the sterile tables. He had learned at some point early on that fighting Alfred was useless. And if anything, Damian wasn't stupid enough to waste time on a battle he knew he wouldn't win.

Only after all of that was done, (including the cat band aids, curtesy of Nightwing), was Damian sent off to bed. He had school in the morning after all. And the injury wasn't too serious.

Damian begrudgingly said goodnight and marched up and out of the cave.

"Master Bruce, what troubles you?"

Bruce Wayne was glaring at the monitor, like the Bat Computer had personally wronged him.

"Another message from Barbara. Dick hasn't been getting better, they might end up having to send him to the Watchtower if his condition doesn't improve."

"That's truly awful sir," Alfred's eyebrows became scrunched together with sadness, he hated hearing such terrible things about the boy he had helped to raise.

Bruce used his hand to wipe his face in an exhausted motion, and stood up. He had decided that in the morning he would visit Dick.

"Alfred. I'm worried about him," the butler looked at him expectantly, knowing that the billionaire would continue.

"It's not like the kid to stay down for so long. Even if Barbra did bench him. Heck, he didn't even listen to me back when I was his mentor. What I'm trying to say is, I'm scared that he's going to do something that's going to get him killed." Alfred nodded, silently showing his agreement.

"I know, Master Bruce. I half expect him to be out on the streets as we speak, doing what he thinks is right. What you taught him to do."

With that in mind, Bruce smirked grimly, and stood up. Thanking his father-figure he took his leave, walking up the stone stairs of the Bat cave and to the manor. Alfred cleaned up, and also left, ready to finally get some sleep.

Little did they know, that at a little past two in the morning, an urgent message would be sent to the Bat Computer.

Richard Grayson, or rather Nightwing, had been found collapsed in his Blüdhaven apartment.

Surrounded in a pool of his own blood.