Chapter Text
“Let me accompany you, Father.” His words were followed by a slight echo in the cavernous space. Bruce paused in pulling on one of the gauntlets and grimaced. This was turning into a nightly ritual. Tim and him getting ready for patrol and Damian demanding he go out with them. No, not them. Him. Just Bruce. His youngest son was determined to replace Tim as Robin. Maybe he should revoke Damian's access to the cave to avoid this scenario in the future but then Damian would only redouble his efforts to undermine Tim in the manor. His son couldn't see his reaction, he was standing behind him but Bruce could see Tim rolling his eyes, as did Damian. His voice held barely concealed fury. “I'm better suited to be Robin than Drake. I am trained since birth and it is my right as your son.”
Bruce closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “No. Tim is Robin, Damian.” He turned around and leveled his son with a look... both his sons. Tim looked a little too pleased at Damian getting rebuked.
At first, he didn't know what to do when Talia dropped Damian in his lap, aside from running a DNA test and triple-checking the results. But like with all his children he quickly learned to love Damian, he would like nothing more than to take him along into Gotham but the simple truth of the matter was that Damian while a brilliant combatant, smart and an artist, was also prone to rash action and anger and held no regard for his cardinal rule. He was raised as an assassin so it was to be expected but Bruce had yet to find a way to make Damian unlearn years of indoctrination by the League of Shadows.
He couldn't risk taking Damian along, for his safety and that of others.
Neither did he respect Tim as his brother, constantly belittling him and causing fights, verbal and physical alike. Understandably Tim was becoming more frustrated by the day. Neither did he respect Alfred, insisting on treating him like a servant when in truth he was like a second father to Bruce. The only person he listened to was Bruce himself and even that to varying degrees.
“I will prove to you that I am better than Drake.” With those words he turned on his heels and made his way past the giant penny and up the stairs to the manor, Tim watched him go with a smirk he quickly hid when he noticed Bruce watching. In the ensuing silence between the two humans, dwarfed in the vastness of the cave system underneath Wayne Manor, the chittering of the bats seemed to rise in volume until it became deafening. Maybe he should call Dick and ask for advice on how to make his youngest two bond. He had always been leagues better at navigating human interaction.
He felt guilty for the thought, it was his problem to deal with, not one he should dump on Dick. His eldest was living his own busy life in Blüdhaven, he shouldn't impose. It would have been nice to hear his voice though, it has been months since they last talked. When was the last time he visited the manor? Last Christmas, almost a year ago, or ten months to be more precise.
They resumed getting ready for the night in silence and Bruce's thoughts turned to Jason. There was always a chance they would run into Red Hood in the city and he both dreaded and looked forward to those instances. They were the only instances he could make sure his son was alive and well, but they also always ended up fighting, no matter how often Bruce told himself not to rise to Jason baiting him. That was probably the reason Jason never returned to the manor despite the open invitation Bruce repeated every time he saw him. Sometimes he called, never to talk to Bruce but to Alfred and he knew better than to pry into what they talked about. The sting of jealousy he felt in those moments was misplaced. He had no one to blame for Jason's distance than himself.
He loved his children.
He had the uncanny ability to fail them constantly.
As he finished dressing he counted as he drew a breath deep into his lungs, as he held it and as he exhaled. Bruce let all distracting thoughts slip away as Batman emerged. After he checked all his gear he turned to Robin who had done the same. “Let's go.”
Knowing the teen would follow him he headed for the batmobile and a few moments later he navigated the car along cavernous tunnels. A stone wall drew closer by the second and started to slide upwards just in time to let them pass unscathed. Trees rushed by outside, a flickering curtain of lighter black than the night around them. The closer they got to the city the lighter the coverage became to be replaced by buildings and dim streetlights.
Tonight they were heading to the Dixon Docks to stake out a warehouse. One of the workers was a contact of his, Leonard warned him about a shipment due tonight and the paperwork didn't quite add up. It might be an honest mistake but this was Gotham so it wasn't likely. Either way, Batman would rest easier knowing for sure. He parked the car in an empty alley and shot his grapple to reach the roofs.
Leaping from one rooftop to another silently was second nature by now and no one saw them slipping through the night. As they drew closer to their target they slowed and finally settled at the edge of a warehouse almost identical to the surrounding ones. The ground was littered with clusters of shipping containers and a slight fog lingered in the air brought from the open waters by the chilly October winds.
His cape surrounded him but it wasn't quite enough to keep the cold from biting into his bones. It might be time to bring out the heated suits. The thought was reinforced by Robin shivering in the next gust of wind and huddling down deeper into his cape. At least he wore actual pants, different from his predecessors.
Batman was about to reach out and cover Robin with his larger cape as well when he became aware of movement down on the ground. Five men were headed for the warehouse they had been watching. All of them were dressed as dock workers but it didn't fool him for a second. While their attire might sell the part, their shoes were a giveaway. No one working there would wear Oxfords instead of steel-toed boots.
Leonard was right about there being something fishy going on and these men were probably here to pick up whatever was smuggled in by ship. For now, they would wait and try to get a glimpse at what it was when they moved it. Most likely weapons or drugs. Then they would follow them and find out more about who was behind it.
These guys weren't in any hurry though, at first standing around talking and laughing, while one fiddled with the padlock on the bay door. As they disappeared inside Batman motioned Robin to move closer. They grappled onto the roof, the old building still had skylights to let in light predating the common use of electricity in Southside and it came in handy as an inconspicuous entry point.
He dropped down unto a support beam high over the heads of the men. The building was too brightly lit for his taste but he didn't plan on engaging anyone at the moment. Robin settled in next to him without a sound.
Below there were rows of metal shelving stacked with boxes, wooden crates and unidentifiable objects wrapped in plastic. Idly he noted that the shelves were not bolted to the floor. Not up to code, a safety risk. He should follow up with Gordon on that later.
“How is anyone supposed to find anything in here? This is going to take hours.” The man who talked looked around and another huffed annoyed. The same man who opened the lock grabbed a clipboard from the wall by the doors and smacked the first in the back of his head with it. “Moron.” Obviously, he was the brains of this gaggle. He was also the only one smart enough to wear a hat, the wool pulled low concealing his hair as well as facial features from above.
He flipped through the pages. “Shelf 23, bottom and first row. You. Bring the forklift.” The guy he addressed headed over to where a handful of those were parked and climbed on. After a few moments to get used to the controls, he drove after his friends who headed down the rows of shelves, and up above they followed. After another order one of the men opened the shutter to the loading bay where the open end of a small transport truck was waiting.
The men came on foot and neither did he hear any vehicles approach, it must have been placed beforehand. Whoever was the mastermind behind this was smart and organized, splitting the operation into small jobs over an array of people. These guys were most likely only going to pick the cargo up and leave it at a planned location, where someone else was going to take over. If they were picked up by the police they wouldn't have any significant information to share. Not engaging them was the right call. Batman didn't doubt that if they were spotted the person behind this plan would disappear before they got anywhere close to them.
The men stopped in front of large wooden crates and the one in the forklift went to work, lifting them down and loading them into the truck. The leader double-checked they got the correct crates, while the other three spread out to keep watch for any intruders. None of them bothered to look up. They never did.
His com crackled to life. “Come in, Batman.” Alfred. While composed as he always was, Batman could detect an edge in his voice but only because he had known the older man since birth. He tapped the button on his earpiece twice to let him know he was listening but couldn't talk. “The young Master is gone. He took the garments he arrived in and his katana, sir.” Damian's earlier words came back to him and his heart dropped, then it began to race as memories of Jason's death hit him like a freight train. The acrid smell of the burning building, the weight of the small lifeless body in his arms, the sight of countless injuries and blood everywhere. The cold of that day followed him into the present as the blood rushed from his extremities in reaction to his fear.
He needed to go after Damian before-
He needed to find his son.
Turning to Robin he began to sign that he should follow the henchmen on his own and keep his com and tracker on at all times. In the periphery of his vision, he saw movement. Another one of the skylights opened and a small black-clad figure dropped first to a beam, then to the shelve below, and finally out of sight.
But not before Batman saw the glint of light reflect off of the katana.
Shit.
At least he didn't have to search all of Gotham for Damian. He flitted along the beams toward the spot where his youngest disappeared, intending to drag his son out kicking and screaming if he had to, but Damian was no longer there. Batman scanned the ground and didn't spot Damian until he heard a muffled groan. One of the men guarding the perimeter collapsed to the floor unconscious, at least he hoped that was the case. Then the boy headed for the leader next.
That's when things turned sideways. Batman wasn't the only one to notice the sound of the man going down. Another goon did as well and went to check things out, he found the crumpled figure and rushed up behind an unsuspecting Damian. He wouldn't be able to reach them in time and he was about to throw all caution to the wind and call out to his son when Robin dropped from above right on top of the assailant before he could do any damage.
That left three more and with their plan already shot he swooped down to take care of the leader with a strike to the side of the neck. He hit the nerve that would leave the man unconscious with the side of his hand. At least they could check what exactly the men were transporting with such elaborate caution and it might give them a clue as to who was behind it. Meanwhile, Robin dropped number four, leaving the man operating the forklift. Only Batman couldn't hear the vehicle anymore. He looked around and found it abandoned near the loading bay. He might have seen his mates go down and fled. The thought ground to a halt when he saw one of the shelves wobble. The last man hadn't fled instead he was pushing a shelve. The shelf Damian stood in front of with crossed arms and watched Robin with open disdain.
His heart stopped when the shelf tipped but his body was already moving before his mind caught up. Batman lunged for his son and grabbed him by the waist. In one fluid motion putting all his strength behind it, he threw Damian toward Robin who had turned at the flurry of action. To his relief, Robin caught his little brother but the relief was short-lived because he had no time to move out of the way himself. The last thing he saw was the widening of Robin's eyes before hundreds of pounds of metal and shipped cargo came down on him.
His world turned to white hot agony as his bones shattered and flesh burst open under the force. Then there was nothing but black and he welcomed the oblivion.