Would y'all believe me if I said I write this fic with the song Hot Wings (I Wanna Party) from the critically acclaimed movie Rio on repeat? It has such a good beat it fuels my writing juices LOL

Damian Wayne was a mystery to most, even to his brothers and father. The thoughts and feelings he held were kept close to his heart. Once in a while he'd open up, but it was really rare. Dick and Alfred were the closest ones to him by a long run, but even then he didn't have a habit of bringing things up to them or discussing too deep of topics from his past. To him, his past was his past. Remembering just made things harder. Yet it felt hard anyhow, whenever something would go wrong or he'd slip up even minorly he'd sense their intimidation. Their wariness. "Is he going to back track?"

Shaking his head, he let out a quick exhale. It wouldn't do him any good if he got distracted whilst on the job. If he wanted to prove himself then he must do his job perfectly. No screw ups. No one would like him anymore, they wouldn't accept him.

The darkness that enveloped Gotham was suffocating. The only reprieve was the moon glimmering down, casting light to the tops and sides of skyscrapers- swallowing the rest in deep shadows. A perfect breeding ground for crime. Though, near the docks, the moon sparkled on the murky water's surface. It was a shame that so many places seemed to just be getting more and more polluted. No matter how much money Bruce Wayne and his environmental foundations threw at clean up projects, the skeevy would always ruin it again for everyone else.

Focusing his sights, the youngest Robin crouched behind some crates. His right hand gripped the katana on his hip as he made his assessments. Only three. This should go smoothly. He thought, a slight smirk gracing his lips.

It was definitely more Batman and the League of Assassins style to fight more stealthily, and honestly he agreed most of the time. Right now he was just feeling an itch and just wanted to scratch it. So he stood up from his hiding place and casually made his way over, "I do hope you are making deals for Girl Scouts cookies and not the illegal narcotic stuff," he said, sarcasm lacing his rather monotone voice.

"Shit- a bat!"

It didn't take long for them to recover from their surprise. They had an air of cockiness surrounding them, which Robin couldn't blame them for, but they'd be sorely mistaken. As dealer one raised a gun to him, Robin quickly deflected the gun out of his face with the palm of his hand slamming against the thug's forearm. Time always seemed to speed up during these types of fights. Worrying about his own safety was the furthest thing from his mind, it was always about the job.

A quick kick to the back of dealer one's knee toppled him before the robin spun on his heel in time to block a punch from two with the sheath of his katana. "Damn brat, why don't you go home and mind your business?" He spat as Robin ducked punches from two and three.

"Why? Don't think you can handle fighting a kid? Three versus one seems mighty imbalanced, everyone would assume victory, but maybe you are smarter than you look" Robin stated tauntingly, diving out of the way of another shot.

Guns were annoying. He drew his blade, keeping his eyes on the three of them, carefully calculating their aim. Obviously the weakest person could become a powerhouse depending on the weapon they wielded. Two shot first and Robin moved his wrist at a quick speed to block the shot- much to their surprise. "Come on! No one actually does that!"

Robin snorted, but kept focus. They were barely worth the effort, he wanted to fight hand to hand, but of course guns were most thugs' trump card. Shot after shot was being taken and Robin had to keep on his toes. Swinging his katana to defend with a crack and jumping out of the way when they came too fast. One 'tch'd before making a move to reload, which was the opportunity the young male needed to get low to the ground and kick off in a fast jump- closing distance before landing a hefty punch to the gut. It caused the gun to fall out of the man's hand as he stumbled, but he didn't get a chance to recoup before Robin jumped and landed a rough chop to the back of his neck to make the man keel over.

Two and Three hesitated with their aim, obviously not wanting to shoot at their ally, so Robin bolted from the unconscious body- hand in his utility belt, when he was a good distance away he threw a couple smoke bombs. The explosion left the area shrouded in even more darkness than before, not even the moon could penetrate the cloud.

The thugs couldn't focus on anything except for the eerie sounds of footsteps sneaking around and the brutal pain of tiny fists landing hit after hit. One body fell over after a particularly pained shout, and left only Two standing. His hands were raised in front of his face in defense, the gun in his hand trembling as he waited for the next attack.

A yelp escaped him as a shiny batarang came flying and knocked the weapon from his hand. He shook said hand as if he got hit before gasping when he felt taut rope binding his body. His feet were kicked out from below him by green boots- and he landed roughly on his ass.

Standing before him was Robin with a rather unimpressed expression on his mask hidden face. The smog was clearing and beside Two was One and Three also tied up, but they were lost to dream land. "What were you selling?" Robin asked.

"Wh-What?"

"I asked what you were selling, who's your supplier?" Robin questioned again, a little more impatient. His eyes were cast to the duffel bags sitting neatly in a pile by a few wooden barrels.

Two swallowed the lump in his throat, "I-I'm not saying!"

"You know, stuttering when you're trying to act tough just makes you look pathetic instead," Robin sneered, making his way to the bags. They were blue and dirty and looked stuffed. His eyes rolled when he heard Two struggling to escape the bonds. Why were criminals becoming dumber and dumber? Weaker too. Some might be doing this out of obligation. Todd would have a few words about my monologues.

Inside the duffels, Robin curiously inspected the contents. There were a bunch of single use wrapped packages. They were small, about the size of a ravioli. Feeling around he could tell there were two per package. His eyebrows furrowed, spotting the unfamiliar logo on the front. It looked like some kind of animal head on a spike? Wasn't well drawn.

As he sat there digging through the bags to get a proper count, he heard shuffling behind him. He sighed as he started to turn his head, "it is useless trying to get out of those ro-" cut off by the view of a gun's barrel pointed at him.

Annoyance filled his being as he saw a fourth member standing before him with a cocky grin, "I thought I was real unlucky getting stuck in traffic, turns out I was given a blessing instead. Don't move," he commanded.

Robin pursed his lips. Fuck. I should have waited just a bit longer to see if backup was coming. Tim was surely going to mock him for this, if he didn't get himself shot in the face first. Before he could even try thinking of a plan, Four was suddenly flung out of his vision. The tanned boy quickly turned his head to watch as Four's body was skipped across the river a few times like a rock before crashing into the water.

Mouth gaping open, he turned to see what or who threw the man threatening him- to see a boy about his own age. He had wildly curly black hair that was a stark contrast to his pale skin, ruby red eyes, and an expression akin to smugness. Robin couldn't really tell.

Though, he just sighed, turning away from mystery boy to finish what he was doing. He could tell that that had stunned his 'savior' by the sound of falter in his stance. Robin counted quickly before zipping the duffels shut, taking one of the packages and tucking it into an empty pocket in the yellow utility belt around his waist.

"Uhm, so are you going to say anything?" The boy asked curiously. It was a genuine wonder of why Robin didn't react.

Robin lifted his head and looked up at the taller male, disapprovement on his features, "you could have killed him," he scolded, hearing the splashing of Four making his way back to land.

The boy's ruby eyes narrowed, not looking necessarily happy about that comment, "so?"

"So, if you're going to try playing hero then you can't just kill people," Robin retorted, hands on his hips as he watched Four struggle to swim, "go get him."

The boy blinked, a smirk formed on his lips, "what if I'm not trying to play hero?" He asked, not making a move.

"Then either kill me and be done with it or get out of my way whilst I try cleaning up your mess," Robin snarked, stepping past the taller one with his arms folded over his chest as he glared at Four- who for the most part, was trying to swim against the current away from the vigilantes.

Who in the hell is this guy? Where did he come from? I didn't even hear him coming until he was already here flinging that guy... A pensive expression etched across his face, trying to decide the best course of action.

Movement behind him brought him out of his thoughts as he watched the boy fly across the water and to where the thug was desperately wading. The super powered boy hovered over the area where Four struggled to escape, but reluctantly took Boy's hand. Boy held him and carried him by the hand as if he weighed the same as a bushel of grapes over to where Robin was waiting with scrutinizing eyes.

"There, I got him."

"I see that," Robin sighed, walking over to Four once more whose teeth were chattering and his body trembling. From the cold or by fear? Who knew. Only Four. "Tell me what this is called and I won't have the weirdo toss you into the river again."

Boy couldn't even get a word in because Four yelped and nodded his head quickly, "it's called B-Bite, I don't know who m-makes it. People on the streets just get a t-text from an unknown number informing us on a j-job. We pick it up wherever the text says and we sell the drugs before taking the allowed cut and delivering the r-rest to a random location!" Four rambled.

Robin was writing everything that was being said down into his notepad, nodding his head along as he listened. What a strange way of dealing. "Why is there so much trust? You could just take it all and sell it for yourself or you could use it," He questioned.

"B-Because those who had done that before ended up disappearing! No one ever heard from them again, and no one goes looking," Four answered.

That was weird. Robin scrunched his nose up, "so you're saying there's also a bunch of missing people? Did no one report this to the police?"

Four stayed silent.

"Do you think drug dealers would report their missing drug dealer friends to the police?" The red eyed boy asked with a snicker, lifting his hands up to rest behind his head as he decided to float in place. Cool guy attitude at its finest.

"Obviously not, but it's strange that the families of those people didn't come forward," Robin replied, lips pursing, "though I suppose it really shouldn't be that surprising. Cops, especially the ones in East End, are crooked."

Four nodded solemnly, "yeah so... I helped, can you let me go?"

"No." Robin grabbed another piece of rope that was lying around, thank you dockyard, and tied up Four who was sulking. He reached up to the mic attached to his suit, "Red Robin, Nightwing, I caught four dealers at the north eastern side of the docks. Calling it into GCPD now," he informed, ignoring the confirmations from his brothers on the other side.

After sending a quick text to presumably Commissioner Gordon, he turned his attention back to the stranger with powers floating in front of him, "why did you come? And who are you?" He questioned.

"Oh goody it's my turn to be interrogated," Boy mused, a grin spreading and those ruby eyes glinting with what... the Robin did not know. "I'm Jonathan. You?"

Jonathan? What a normal name for a weird guy. "Robin. What about my first question?" Robin inquired, raising a perfectly manicured brow at the other.

Jonathan chuckled, "just was curious. I'll be seeing you later, Damian," he said gleefully, turning away from the stunned Robin, and blasted off. Disappearing into the clouds- dispersing them with a small hole from where he entered.

How the fuck did he know my name? A slight panic overtook him as he hastily looked to the thugs to see if any of them heard, and breathed a sigh of relief once he saw they were all unconscious. Four passing out only seconds prior.

Gloved hands balled into a trembling fist, before he also turned and vanished into the night.

I'm not good with fight scenes I am sooo sorry about that. I hope it was enjoyable anywayssss! Gonna keep practicing...