Chapter Text
DAMIAN'S POV
Damian rounded a corner with his grapple gun, stopping when he heard a rough sounding voice.
“Hey kid. Why don’t ‘cha gimme that camera?”
Robin gritted his teeth in anger. No one should touch children under his watch. Grayson had made the family’s expectations clear. Robin protected the small and innocent, even if it meant slowing down one’s patrol route.
Three large men were surrounding a tiny child clutching a camera in his hands . The boy was small and Asian, with dark eyes to match. His stance was steely, if not stupidly brave and Damian hurried to get to him in time. A child of that size would be very wounded if one of the male’s punched him. Damian estimated his age to be seven or under, far too young to be out this late at night.
Damian landed on the alleyway entrance and smirked as the grown fools turned towards him and the child flinched at the noise of the grappling hook retracting.
“Leave the small child alone and unharmed and I shall consider leaving your origins intact!” Robin ordered, brandishing his sword as the biggest goon reached unwisely for the child.
“He was taking our pictures! We have rights!”
The meaty hand rested threateningly on the child’s shoulder, dwarfing his small stature.
“Hn. And I presume no nefarious activities were committed during your ‘privacy’? Robin countered, smirking when the shorter of the three flinched at his words.
Damian raised his sword threateningly and aimed it at the leader.
The man hesitated and that was the only opening Damian needed.
Precisely two minutes later, the plebeians that disguised themselves as men were subdued and the small child grimaced at the blood dripping down Damian’s sword.
Tt. It’s not as though I killed them. Damian thought with a slight annoyance as the child eyed the alleyway with far more interest than what was pleasing.
“Well. I suppose I should escort you home.” Damian said, generously offering his precious time. Grayson would expect Robin to watch over the harmless, unprotected boy, even though he already had saved him from the threats.
The child eerily tilted his head, blinking as he watched Damian quietly. His fingers twitched minutely at the offer and the camera in his grasp once again caught Damian’s eye.
It was no ordinary camera, Drake himself would be interested in the device. Damian scuffled closer to get a better look, purposely announcing his footsteps to keep from further scaring the elementary student.
“No thanks, Mr. Robin. I know the way home.” The child bit back wittingly, becoming more wary as Damian got closer.
Damian chewed his lip in concentration. Grayson would be disappointed if Damian did not watch over the child, but the boy was wary and literally backed himself in a corner with fearful eyes.
He did not resent the boy for it, he too would be suspicious of such an offer and the children of Gotham were known for their street smarts.
“Hn.”
Damian turned around briskly, pretending to be uncommitted if the child was so inclined to be difficult. He could just watch in the shadows after all. That was usually Father’s preferred method anyhow.
But, he had one last card to play.
“Well then, I suppose I shall have to eat at Marco’s all by myself.”
There, Nightwing’s best ‘tried and true’ method. Lure the street children with detestable ‘ice cream’ of all things. As if they shouldn’t be wary of gang members doing the same.
Damian turned back, curious to see if the child was interested, but the alleyway was clear.
There was no-one there, save for a literal rat climbing a pipe. No footsteps echoed in the alleyway puddles nor streaks of color from a child running away.
And no cameras for Gordon’s daughter to rewind.
How odd.
JASON'S POV
Jason was busy alright?!
He didn’t have time for anyone, especially the bats.
Not today.
Today, he was gathering intel, it was Thursday after all. Today was the day Red Hood met one specific informant and bargained for info. Occasionally, he switched it up, but that was on the rare occasion he had too.
His Merry Men collected info for him daily and Jason usually wouldn’t bother sticking his head out the window unless he really, really had to. But this informant was special, if not a little neurotic.
Jason smacked the gum he was chewing as he made his way to Marty’s place. The crazy kid had made his way onto Red Hood’s radar a while ago and was very specific about meetings. Jason had to be exactly on time or the meeting was canceled.
But Red Hood made a point to be on time with the kid, he might be certifiable, but Marty’s conspiracies tended to be more on the money than the bats.
The dim alleyway Marty had his hideout in was unappealing to say the least. More than one dumpster lined the walls and the broken down door frame Jason had to walk through was dilapidated and scary to walk through.
His boots squelched in the mud puddles of the building as Jason made his way to the hidden iron door. The camera in the corner whirled on well oiled machinery and the speaker came to life.
“I was beginning to think you were going to be late.” The speaker’s static sparkled and rattled monotonously, before the iron door slid open seamlessly.
“Yeah well, I’m here aren’t I?”
The stairs going down were clean enough, but dark and Jason tapped on his infrared in his helmet.
“Seriously kid, you need to invest in some lighting, you’ll break your neck someday.” Jason nagged, citing the complaint for the fourth time.
Marty only chuckled in the room Jason could only describe as manic.
Cork boards and blackboards covered every wall and were filled with photographs of suspects and strings connecting patterns. Used coffee mugs and soda cans were precariously left on tables and Jason spotted a few slices of molded pizza in one corner of the room. It was about normal for the kid, albeit far worse than usual.
He grimaced as his boot suddenly felt gummy under his foot from an old piece of gum.
He also reminded himself that Marty and Tim should never ever meet, lest the world exploded from genius and sloppiness.
Marty raced up to Red Hood, holding a paper stack as large as his head and a cringeworthy grin.
“I found them! I found them!” Marty shoved the paperwork in Jason’s hands, causing the bigger of the two to blunder, trying to catch them all.
Marty eagerly helped him carry the stack, grabbing the stray papers that went flying out of Jason’s grip as he babbled about the new trafficking ring he found.
“They’re primarily located in the docks and, AND I got pictures of the head-honcho! I’ve got pictures of him kidnapping the kids and everything! And I have names and locations and-”
Jason walked behind Marty, listening to the dyed white, hair-gelled teen ramble about his evidence. The kid’s mismatched eyes were bright as he explained the gang leader’s hideout and patterns.
How much danger was the kid putting himself in for this intel? Jason wasn’t sure what the kid’s daytime job was, he never could get a good match on Marty’s identity in the database. But when was the last time someone was there for him? Helped him out?
Jason could see the heavy bags under the kid’s eyes. His frame was too small, suggesting the undernourishment Jason saw all the time on the street. But Marty clearly had some money, otherwise his hideout wouldn’t exist.
When was the last time you slept, kid?
“Kid.”
Jason was ignored, Marty blundered through the interruption like it was a breeze.
“OH! And I have the names of the families of the gang. I knew you’d want that!”
“Marty! Listen for a second!” Jason snapped, trying to get Marty to focus.
It worked well enough, Marty’s tired eyes landed on Jason’s helmet sharply, tearing into the mask as if he could see Jason’s expression.
“When was the last time you slept?” Jason asked, pulling off his helmet, just showing the kid the domino mask.
Marty blinked in clear confusion and tilted his head eerily.
Jason waved at the horrid mess the kid had covered his floor in.
“When was the last time you cleaned this place?” Jason asked in barely masked horror as Marty glimpsed at the dusty, sloppy messes Jason pointed out.
“Well?” Jason prodded when Marty waited far too long to answer with a distant, glassy look in his eye.
“Hm. Well, I wasn’t expecting that question.” Marty pragmatically answered, casually turning around, back to his littered excuse of a cork board. The teen was unnervingly unbothered by the question and went back to re-organizing the maps of the crimes.
Jason lurched forward, grabbing the kid by the shoulder. It was downright frightening how skinny the kid’s frame was in his hands.
“Kid. You’re taking a nap and eating real food. Boss’s orders.” Screw the other meetings Jason had today, the kid was a literal toothpick in his hold and Jason was going to feed the kid if it killed him again.
Marty had the utter gall to roll his eyes at the Red Hood’s order.
“Fine. I’ll grab some takeout later. But for the record, you’re not my boss.” He snarked back and gave a teenager glare.
“No, where’s your kitchen?” Jason demanded, he had watched this kid for months now and his health was vastly deteriorating before his very eyes. He had to get something healthy in the kid if it killed him. Heck, if he could find something edible in this cesspool, he’d cook it for the kid at this point.
Marty snarled back, his short white hair snapping back and forth in agitation with him.
“Look boss, in case you didn’t notice I only bring you intel because I want to. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have the vice grip you do over Gotham. I can always just bring my intel to the bats.”
Marty grabbed Jason’s wrist and ducked, effectively slipping out of his grasp. His vivid mismatched eyes became dangerous in the dark recesses of the basement.
Jason chuckled at the statement, trying to broker back peace.
“Kid, you specifically asked me to kill most of these guys. I’m your only man that’ll do the job for free without killing you too.”
Marty hummed dangerously in the recesses of the shadows. “Well, I prefer to keep my hands clean, but I’ve rid the world of scum before. It only takes calculations after all.”
Jason’s heart palpated at the thought of the shrimpy kid chasing down mob family members or drug traffickers. And well, the kid was one day away from becoming the next Rogue if he didn’t die first in Jason’s humble opinion.
Jason put his hands up in peace, cautiously testing the waters again.
“Forget I asked, okay kid?”
Sharp brown and blue eyes tapered in the darkness, illuminated only by the glowing experiments throughout the room.
“Fine.”
There was a tense silence that passed, neither party moving.
Then, the friendly little timer beeped, causing both to jump.
“Your time’s up Red Hood.” Marty said roughly.
Jeez, could the kid manage to make that sound less threatening?
Jason slipped his helmet back on and internally sighed when the kid’s skinny figure came into view once more.
If there was a kid Red Hood would consider personally finding a family for, it would be this one. It hurt his heart when he could see the signs of malnourishment on a child, but especially one that had such potential. Marty couldn’t be older than Tim at most, but he was brilliant without Bat-training. Jason had witnessed the kid at work himself a few times.
Red Hood silently gathered up his intel and paused before taking a step on the stairs.
“...Just promise me you’ll see the sun again this next week?”
Marty snorted, but his playful, awkward grin came back.
“In Gotham?”
Jason bit back a laugh and nodded in acknowledgement before stepping up.
He would save Marty, someday.
DICK'S POV
Nightwing landed silently on the building beside the medical facility. Fairly reliable intel had it that the facility was compromised and information was being leaked about illegal practices and Dick was here to gather intel.
A flash of white fabric caught Dick’s eye as someone rounded a corner.
He grinned and deftly landed nearby, startling the poor nurse out of her inner thoughts. Her dark brown eyes widened in recognition and she backed into the doorway with a certain level of fear, her brunette hair brushing against the brick on the wall.
“You’re…you’re..”
“Nightwing, the one and only!” Dick stage whispered, trying to get her to relax. She was acting a tad suspicious, but Dick would wager money on it being more of a startling fear than a ‘Oh no, I’m caught fear’.
She relaxed, but only by a hair-fraction.
Dick gave her his most dashing smile, hoping to encourage her a tad. “And you are….”
“Caroline.” Came the choked response along with a shaky finger pointing to her name badge.
Dick leaned on the brick wall and slung an arm over her shoulder.
“Caroline... Can I call you Carrie?”
A slight nod and a flicker of….something.
“Has anyone told you, you have gorgeous eyes? Big, sweet doe eyes?” Dick sweet-talked, trying to find a way in. Her badge said she was an intern, lower levels, but Dick would take any info she had. Upper management had notably been tight-lipped about their intentions with the medical experiments occuring inside.
Her nose scrunched, as if she didn’t believe him and she jolted out of his gentle hold.
“I’m sorry Nightwing. I….I have a boyfriend.”
Dick suitably backed up, realizing he acted a tad quick. That was a little unusual for him, but there was something about her that was eerily familiar.
Eh, maybe he’d saved her in the past.
“Right, sorry Carrie. Anyway, can you help a hero out? I’m investigating the lab and would love some help.” Dick flicked out one of his bat-business cards out of a hidden pocket and offered it to her.
Carrie chewed her lip in consideration before pocketing the number and ducking back into the building.
“Yes. I can do that.” She answered softly before using her keycard and disappearing into the doorway.
Dick waved goodbye and swung back up to the building nearby, keeping an eye on the facility.
Soon he’d have the proof that this corporation was illegitimate. He might even be able to convince Caroline to be his inside girl.
Less than a week later, Nightwing got a phone call from Carrie, asking him to meet.
Within fifteen minutes, he was at the meeting place. She was bundled in a coat, but clearly still freezing as she spotted him through her wide-rimmed glasses. The yellow envelope in her hand fluttered with the wind and she held it tight against her chest as she shivered in the alleyway.
Nightwing hurried to her, subtly checking for signs of hypothermia.
“I got everything you need to prove these guys are bad news.” She spat out, pushing the envelope into his hands, her cold, slender fingers brushing against his own gloved ones.
Dick cleared his throat at the suddenness of it all. She had called him out of the blue and was now handing him everything he needed without a second thought. He hadn’t even asked!
“How can I thank you?” Dick asked, looking at her shaking, slender frame with worry. Winter was no joke in Gotham and this woman had risked her life and likely terminated her job for him. He needed to at least make sure she had a warm place to go.
Her warm brown eyes were steely, sharply digging into his soul with a knife.
“Stop them. I don’t have the time to.”
Wait. What did she mean she didn’t have the time to?
Carrie briskly walked past him and turned onto the street branching off.
“Wait!” Dick shouted, skidding past her in an effort to get her to slow down.
“I don’t even know your full name.” He had to make sure she was safe and cared for. For all he knew, she might have children to feed or her boyfriend might be abusive. Plus, there was something about her, like a magnetic pull that made him like her and want to help her.
“Caroline. Caroline Hill.” She briskly kept walking and turned the corner, walking on to her home.
Dick followed her stealthily until she reached a condo complex and fiddled with the key to the middle one, opening the door with a few muttered curses under her breath.
He left her that night, but when he returned with some flowers and a thank-you card, the condo was swept clean and none of the neighbors knew her name.
She was gone and another Gotham mystery echoed in the snowy air.
TIM'S POV
Tim hummed as he sorted through the data he had collected during the month in his alternate safehouse. He had a marvelous system going. Throughout the month, he shifted into his own characters, carefully using the crafted personalities he had created and collected, using each to its own purpose.
He had used the same characters for years, even before he had become Robin. It was a routine of his to take any extra hours, days to scope out new information. Cold cases were a personal favorite, newspaper clippings of such events dated back to twenty years before Tim was born. All the solved, not-bat-related cases went into his nice and neat binder where they were never forgotten. Batman would never know of Tim's extra-curricular activities, but come-on, he'd been doing this since he was literally nine! If Bruce hadn't figured it out by now, Tim wasn't going to spoil his own hobby!
It was fun, rearranging and adding features to a model. His characters were unique, funny little things with a mind of their own. Some slipped into a copy of his own personality, but more intense. Others tended to reflect remnants of his past or movie characters that held charisma.
Calvin was the primary photographer of the three, blending in perfectly with the shadows and snapping pictures of the suspicious activities found on the wretched Gotham streets. He was perfect for slipping in and out of buildings and finding little holes in the wall to explore nefarious activities. It was especially helpful that he was around eight or nine, meaning he needed less to sustain himself on long sessions.
Caroline was the least like him for obvious reasons, beside the knack for science. She was primarily used when he needed a way in, a pretty face to distract the guards away from the fact that they had never seen her before. It was a good way to avoid shifting constantly in a stakeout, too many and eventually they became noticeable. She had more charisma than Tim tended to hold in his primary form, but there was no point in being jealous of something or someone not even real.
It was such a shame that Dick had decided to flirt with the persona, effectively burning and killing the alias. Bleh, Tim still couldn’t wrap his head around Dick finding him ahem, his persona attractive.
It was unfortunate that he had to get rid of a perfectly satisfactory safehouse, but with Dickie on his trail he had little choice but to bring him to a decent part of town.
Marty….
Well to be completely honest, Marty was the very essence that drove all three and held more to his true personality than Tim cared to admit. There was always a part of him that was a little too unhinged, a little too willing to simply clean up the mess of a city Gotham had become.
But Tim had only but so many hours in a day and killing people was not an option. He had witnessed what road his alternate future self took thanks to time travel, if he killed. He knew that deep down, once he started, it would be a dark road.
There were only so many threads, so many steps it would take for Tim to become a supervillain. He had killed more than his fair share of assassins and blood was a messy thing to deal with. He’d rather not kill unless it was completely necessary and the person was worth more dead than alive.
Tim obeyed Batman’s rules, but calculated his own set of guidelines alongside it.
That was why Marty collected all the evidence, and supplied it to Red Hood when Tim didn't want to deal with the case anymore. Back before Red Hood's days, Marty handed then off personally to Commissioner Gordon, but Jason was far more efficient.
The man had a firmer grasp on his own sanity than he had back in Tim’s Robin days. Tim just had to supply evidence and point and Jason could make his own decisions on who lived and such.
Tim was content with waiting and staying in the shadows.
After all, he was good at it.
Next work with Marty.....