There wasn't much point in staying longer than a few hours, he got a lot of data anyhow and was going to be going back the next day. Jonathan had left during the last hour- Robin couldn't blame him as there wasn't anything going on and he knew on a personal level that Jon hated things that were boring. Was it a compliment then that it seemed like Jon enjoyed his company then?

Whatever. Robin knew deep down he was enjoying the strange new presence as well, it showed with how lax he had been with hiding his reactions. Jon seemed to know everything on a surface level anyways so there wasn't a real point to hide his reactions to new things.

Back at the Batcave, Nightwing was standing next to the console as he and Red Robin talked about their own missions going on. Red Robin looked up when Robin entered the cave. It was tense for a moment, but Red Robin reached over and grabbed a small device before chucking it over to Robin- who caught it with ease, "it's not bugged. I quadruple checked... As a preemptive measure I wrote a new script to add even more security, if someone is able to get past that then I will personally admit defeat," he informed.

Robin looked down at the phone in slight awe. He had some average hacking skills, but Red Robin's abilities were on another level. But he knew creating a whole new program just to ease Damian's worries was an apology of his own. The two of them had a hard time talking about really anything deep- nonetheless saying they were sorry to each other with those words. Nodding his head, he tucked the phone into his pocket, walking over to them.

Nightwing seemed to visibly relax, probably worried that it wasn't going to be enough to win Robin over and that he'd have to hear them sling insults at one another. He grinned and placed a gentle hand atop Robin's hair, "how was the mission today?" He asked, "we've been hearing some more chatter about Bite."

Robin took off the domino, rubbing his forehead slightly, "tiring, but I did get some evidence of things. Terrance bought all the drugs to distribute and sell amongst his friends. I have photographs of a few people's faces but with all the flashing lights it was hard for the binocular camera to capture more than that," he explained, popping the small SD card out of the tool to hand over to Red Robin, "what about you two?"

Red Robin took the SD and plugged it into the console, flicking through the photographs that appeared once loaded. There was Terrance handing packets to different people whilst also receiving a good chunk of cash in return. As his eyes scanned faces, he motioned to Nightwing to speak.

"Ah, well it was mostly fine. We got into a little scuffle with some of Black Masks' goons, pain in the neck because it feels like there's just a never ending sign up for his gang," Nightwing groaned, "I did hear around the block that Black Mask isn't dealing in Bite, sounds interesting."

Damian put a finger to his chin in thought, "yeah that is interesting. So only certain people are allowed to deal it... but so far I've only encountered random thugs on the street, maybe anyone associated with a gang is out?" He said aloud in thought.

Nightwing shrugged, "could be, anyways- I'll keep an eye on any news from any of the gangs I'm working on. I'll send over the info to Jason as well so he's aware," he informed, half smile on his face. Jason was a bit of a touchy subject for pretty much everyone in the room- each having their own story with him.

"Thank you Grayson, I'm going to go to sleep now," Damian waved them off, walking past the two elder brothers. The lone teen wandered out of the Batcave after undressing and got dressed in a black shirt that belonged to Dick and a pair of shorts that were way too big on him belonging to Duke- thankfully where was a drawstring. Sometimes the kid got too lazy to bring his clothes downstairs and didn't feel like walking all the way up in his uniform just to walk all the way back down to put it away.

Alfred was in the hallway as if he were there to greet him personally, holding a candle and had such warm and inviting eyes, "welcome home, Master Damian," he greeted softly.

Damian's throat felt tight, he hated feeling like he let anyone down- but especially Alfred, "I am sorry for wasting the food you cooked for me," he apologized, emerald pools full of such sincerity.

The older man just smiled, stepping to the side to allow the boy to pass, "it is quite all right, as I understand it you are under a lot of stress. That can affect your appetite, so do try to keep an eye on your stomach, and also your stress. If you should ever need anyone, you have a network here that you can fall back on." His words were true, and secure, but... Damian couldn't use that network like everyone else. He wasn't like everyone else.

So he forced a smile and nodded his head in return, making his way into the mansion. Exhaustion was eating at him. Emotional and physical exhaustion. The walk to his room felt like forever, downside to being a recluse. As soon as he was inside he flopped face first onto his bed with a groan. Life would go on, he just had to deal with these thoughts and feelings.

The next day Damian woke up feeling groggy, he wanted to sleep in just a little bit since he knew he'd be up late again, but he convinced himself to get up. The mantra of I had it worse in the league. A few hours of sleep is more than enough for me. I've lasted three days without even an hour. Rang through his head. He climbed off his bed and made his way to the bathroom that was connected to his room. Inside he brushed his teeth- the taste of apple pie and fries long gone. How could something feel so nostalgic if it didn't even happen a day ago?

Mouth tasting of mint and skin body washed and cleaned- he prepared for the day. It was a sunday so he knew that mostly everyone would be over for brunch. It was a tradition that was started before he even got there and it would be there when he wasn't.

Sighing, he walked over to his closet and threw on a random outfit- a pair of loose fitting cream slacks and a black short sleeved button up tucked into the waistband. He'd wear his black boots the same as usual just hidden under the pant legs. Figuring he was decent for the day (after applying some hair gel) he wandered down the long halls and to the dining area.

The decor was old, epic, gothic, old money type of style. Long persian rugs lined the halls, busts and statues of random people were tucked in corners, vases filled with roses or other expensive looking flowers sat on console tables below paintings. Some were portraits of the Wayne family, some were just paintings of the yard or other areas in Gotham.

It felt like a vampire's castle came to life, but that was to be expected of the Bat.

"There he is! There's my special little guy!" Dick cheered when Damian had entered the room, he was at his usual spot at the table- Tim in front of him, Duke to his right, Stephanie to his left, Bruce at the end of the table.

Damian ignored the comment from Dick and looked confused, "where's Gordon and Cass?" He asked as Dick pulled out the other's chair for him to sit, which Damian did when there was room.

Duke was stirring his drink, watching the ice cubes clink around the edges, "they're with Kate on a mission," he answered, watching Damian settle in his seat- though his eyes seemed to narrow at something.

"Mission? When? Why didn't they say anything?" Damian questioned, feeling that was out of character for the girls.

"They told us a few days ago, leaving the day before last," Stephanie informed, crossing her leg from under the table.

Damian frowned, "they didn't say anything to me... how come I'm last to know?" He mumbled, knowing the truth. They didn't really trust him all that much- fair reasons honestly all things considered.

Because of that fact, no one replied to that particular question. Though, Duke leaned across the table, confirmation in his eyes as he reached out and grabbed Damian's arm just as he was about to go for the sugar, "your arm, man, that's a big bruise!"

Dick immediately went into panic mode, looking at the marks on Damian's tan forearm. There was an ugly bruise of a hand looped around his wrist, Shit! I forgot all about that! Damian swore at himself, how could he have been so dumb?

Bruce stared for a moment, before looking at Damian's uncomfortable expression, and let out a breath, "stop pestering him about it, he probably got it during his fight with those thugs, right?"

"What?! You can't be serious, Bruce, this is a smaller hand than a grown adult's! Plus it's really deep- whoever grabbed him had to have a killer grip!" Dick insisted, gently poking the skin around Damian's arm.

Stephanie and Tim shared a puzzled look. Damian wasn't someone who just allowed thugs to grab onto him like that- especially not without bitching about it to anyone who would listen. He took great pride in not letting himself get hurt, injuries were an insult.

"Look, it's fine, I didn't even notice," Damian assured, voice laden with annoyance. Truly, if it really were an issue he'd have gone to the infirmary by now. But he didn't so he was perfectly okay.

Tim didn't look convinced, "that level of bruising could indicate a hairline fracture or something," he stated.

Damian scoffed, "I'd be in a great deal of pain if that were the case."

Stephanie spoke up next, "but would you even show that?"

"Yeah, isn't it kind of your M.O. to just work until you die?" Duke asked, eyebrow raised, before looking up when the tell tale sound of Alfred's cart came out of the kitchen. Today they were having waffles, pancakes, eggs of many kinds, and a meat platter. There were fruits and muffins to snake on as well.

"Get off my back, it happened when I was working on my case," Damian explained, not technically a lie but also giving merit to Bruce's theory.

Bruce gave a heavy sigh, "you've all sustained much more serious injuries and you're freaking out over a bruise?" He questioned his children's thought process, leaning back as Alfred set down a plate of french toast, sunny side up eggs, and sausage links.

Dick frowned, "that's cold, Damian is an itty bitty baby- any injury, even a paper cut, is worth my worry," he stated, soothingly rubbing the irritated skin. Though he did eventually let Damian pull away so Alfred could silently set up the rest of their breakfasts.

Honestly, the butler was questioning the intelligence of this crime fighting group, it was obviously linked to Damian's current mood. Though he doubted anyone else really noticed a change. His eyes lingered on Damian for a moment, nodding his head in assurance to the youngest, before setting his plate down.

It was a pancake cut into the shape of a cat with chocolate chips for eyes and a nose. There was whipped cream and berries framing it as well. Damian flushed feeling a bit embarrassed, yet also felt incredibly impressed by the craftsmanship.

The eldest leaned over and snapped a quick picture before dodging Damian's fist. It was an average morning, bickering, delicious food, and the feeling of acceptance. For most that was the case anyways.

It was dark out, and after getting examined by both Dick and Tim for any fractures or deeper injuries and coming up clean- he was finally allowed to leave for patrol. A quick change and the Robin was out of there.

He managed to get to the same spot he did the night prior, before Jon appeared out of the sky again, an easy going smile on his face as he held out his hand expectantly. Expecting Damian to always take it when offered.

Which, he wasn't wrong yet. Robin didn't hesitate taking that hand that was most definitely going to bite him in the end. This time, instead of carrying Damian by the waist, he pulled their arms up- giving access for the alien to fling him over his shoulders to give him a piggyback. "Gotta make it more comfortable for ya~" He had insisted.

Robin rolled his eyes, but easily melted into the warmth of the other boy, his hands resting on his shoulders, though one was still being held by Jon- at an awkward angle too, poor guy.

The two of them flew in silence for a couple minutes, Jon still focused on any surveillance, but then he broke it to say, "heard your brothers freak out over the bruise." And, well, of course there wasn't an apology for it. That bruise was evidence of when he claimed Damian for the first time, it wouldn't be something he was ashamed of.

"Mmh."

"And you lied?"

"I didn't lie."

"Sure you didn't, just let them think you got it from a random crook," Jon teased.

"Would that be so wrong? You did steal a poor person's dinner," Robin shot back, though his tone was lighter than he intended. There didn't feel like a need for aggression behind his words.

Jon laughed for a second, his hand that was under Robin's leg to hold him up, squeezed a bit. Not bored at all. Robin in turn, lightly kicked his side with his foot, enjoying the sight of the city from where they were floating. Nothing could reach him there.

As they flew in the night, Jon halted his flying for a moment, before suddenly springing forward in a burst of speed- causing Robin to yelp and hang on tighter, "Jon! What the fu-" His words were lost to the void once he saw what Jon had no doubt heard.

In front of them, in the condo, the windows were sprayed with blood splatters. From their distance they could see bodies on the floor- it was way too quiet. No cop sirens, not chatters from neighbors, just the eerie silence of nothingness.

"Jon, can you hear any heartbeats?"

"Only two, one is of a larger man and the other of a woman- though it's weak."

Well, one thing is confirmed. Jon has super hearing. Robin gripped Jon's shoulder, "take me to the woman, we need to get her help," he commanded, his eyes staring at the scene before him.

Jon stayed silent, but he lowered them to the entrance of the building. He let Robin off his back and he whistled lowly, "look at this place. It was a massacre," he pointed out. Truer words haven't been spoken. All around them bodies were thrown about, blood stained the stairs and hand prints were slapped against the glass of the elevator doors.

Robin didn't hesitate to venture further, which intrigued Jon as there was seemingly no reaction to the horrifying scene in front of them. Robin took out his phone and started recording, snapping pictures, "which floor is she on? Can you hear her?"

"Third floor," Jon walked over a corpse, barely paying it any mind- he had a feeling if he stepped on anyone that Robin would be cross, so he was careful where he walked.

Robin went to the stairs, eyes glued to every detail he could take in. What happened here? This is some real brutality... He had thought, concern fogging the corners of his mind. Every step up the stairs drew even more weight. The walls were painted crimson, there weren't any bullet holes nor scratches to indicate any weapons being used. Not even the scorch marks caused by bombs- everything seemed to have happened on a physical level- it made him feel uneasy.

Stairs were the way to go as he didn't want to draw any attention to them if they took the elevator. Jon was floating up as Robin made his footsteps barely noticeable- hoping they could find the girl and get her out of there in time. The squelching of blood beneath his feet echoed in the corridor, his breathing had to remain steady so they weren't given away.

They passed the sign that said level 2, peeking into the window that was on the door to the hall he saw even more bodies lying on the ground. Condo doors were opened and even without a closer look he could see red. Tearing his eyes away, the young vigilante continued forward.

His heartbeat hasn't changed, it's like he's not affected by any of this. Most normal people would be calling for the police or backup by now, Jon made a mental note of the situation. Robin wasn't normal anyways, so he didn't think those kinds of laws applied to him. Jon himself didn't feel anything when seeing the scene, people died in horrible ways all the time. This was just another Tuesday for him. All of the horrible crimes, murders, dramas, traumas he viewed on his monitors at 'home' really did a good job of jading him. Though they probably couldn't have caused much more damage than he did naturally.

Level 3. They made it. Robin stopped his walking, cautiously looking at the end of the hall to make sure he didn't see any traps or whatnot- before he motioned for Jon to follow and be quiet. They opened the door and Jon made sure to guide it with his fingers so it shut with a barely audible click.

"She's in the second apartment on the left," Jon whispered right next to Robin's ear. He could play off the proximity as being stealthy for the mission.

Robin nodded his head, keeping close to the wall. There were bloody footprints on the ugly gray linoleum, some were smaller but one pair was notably larger. A size 15 or bigger, approximately.

Jon was keeping an ear out for the other heartbeat, it was on the floor above them- thumping around. Focusing his eyes- he was about to use his x-ray vision until Robin grabbed his arm. Turning his head, he saw Robin's face go pale. On the floor was the woman choking on blood. Her legs... they were pulverized. Jon couldn't help but liken it to mincemeat.

"Robin..?" The woman croaked.

The shorter teen immediately rushed to her side, "I'm here, make sure you stay awake. Keep talking," he spoke uncharacteristically soft, his gloved hands reaching down to put pressure against the steady flow of blood that was seeping out from just below her upper thigh.

She had pretty blonde hair at one point, it was now dyed a grizzly sangria shade. Her eyes were unfocused as she stared blankly at the ceiling, she couldn't even feel the hands on her lower body. That body of her's was going numb, "I feel cold..."

"Stay with me," Robin demanded, tone unreadable. His head quickly turned to Jon, "you need to-"

There was a loud bang- the ceiling behind Jon caved in and a rather large man was the cause. He had rippling muscles, looking like he ingested steroids for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Jon had spun on his heel only looking mildly shocked at the sudden entrance. He knew the man was above them- but he didn't expect the other to literally come crash into them.

"A little Robin has flown into the nest, how nice this will be..." The man stood up fully, revealing a grotesque porcelain doll-like mask fused to his head. There was an ugly scar of burnt flesh puffing around the edges of the mask as if they really were one.

The man had only a pair of stained pants on- covered in gore. Those hands of his red and raw. It seemed like Robin had found the weapon of choice. Sourness filled his mouth as he kept hold on the wounds. She wouldn't last much longer- and he couldn't carry her out of there. The ambulance would take too long.

Think, Robin, think... His face screwed up in concentration, scanning everything in the room- until they landed on Jon who was getting ready in a battle stance. "Jon, you need to take her and fly her to the emergency room."

"Yeah right. As if I'll leave you alone with this brute," Jon immediately replied, not taking his eyes off the doll-faced man- who was standing with a domineering aura. The man's hands were squeezing and relaxing, as if he were itching to lay his hands on some flesh again.

"Now isn't the time to play hero," Robin insisted, "she won't last much longer. I can hold my own against him, I promise." His voice was calm, collected, completely confident in his abilities. Jon could hear that heartbeat- it couldn't lie to him.

The man chuckled, "yes, listen to him, I don't have any qualms about killing a kid..." He sneered. It was discomforting that you couldn't see his face, couldn't see what expression he had as he uttered those words. What did he look like when he took a life?

Jon scowled, feeling the heat rushing to his eyes- but he heard the woman let out a wet cough, and he sighed heavily. He wasn't okay with whatever arrangement this was- but Robin was correct in saying she didn't have much longer if she didn't get some immediate help.

So, he swapped places with Robin, his hands going under the woman as he prepared to carry her gently, "I'll be back as soon as I can," He assured, before he left his newfound friend to face off against a morbid opponent.

Robin's hands went to the katana at his side, it was a standoff at first- just staring at one another, until Robin pushed forward and swung down his katana. His aim wasn't to kill, never could he kill again lest his past come to drag him to hell. Quick cuts and jabs were enough to try pushing the man out of the way so he could bring the fight into the hall.

"Why did you do this ?" He questioned, blocking a fist.

The man's larger size made his movements a lot slower, but still- they were strong. Robin had to hold a tighter grip of his katana if he didn't want it flinging out of his hands. The man stayed silent for a moment, only grunting and growling when he couldn't land a solid hit.

"You move too fast- like a jumping flea," His deep voice stated, it sounded nasally, muffled, but that was to be expected with the mask obscuring probably even his breathing. His hand came down with another punch- but Robin jumped out of the way, watching as that bloody fist went through drywall.

"Tt." Robin made a break for the stairwell, hearing the giant fumble after him. The teen was way faster on his feet. As he entered the corridor he jumped onto the railing and started bolting upwards. The sounds of his feet echoed all around him as the reddened walls and stairs blurred in his peripheral vision.

Giant was gaining on him, but he still had a few second head start. Once he reached the next floor he slammed the door shut- jumping backwards a few feet, keeping his guard up. Stomping shook the walls around him, he felt it even in his chest. His stance was firm- eyes locked onto the window of the door.

Soon enough that creepy doll mask was peering at him. Bloodied. A painted smile on that face. Smudged paint ruining its perfect image. Not even a second later the giant raised his fists and pounded on the door- leaving dents in the metal.

"Tell me why you killed everyone here!" Robin ordered, that was the unnerving part. Why was everyone dead? Why didn't anyone come to their rescue? Why didn't anyone hear their screams?

BAM. BAM. BAM.

Three more pounds against the door and Robin could see the metal tearing in the weakest spots. Any second now those big fists would be coming through. Robin took a step backwards, looking to his left and right to find an escape route. After another punch, Robin bolted into Terrance's apartment. His eyes widened a fraction- he could see that this was the place where the carnage started.

Bodies were torn up and spread all over the floor. A man's head was decapitated and put into a fruit bowl sitting on the counter. A woman was missing an arm and her face was fixated into one of pure terror. By the random body parts slunk by the window Robin could estimate that they were being thrown at it from the large red splatters. Disgust filled every sense he had.

Not one to be caught lacking, Robin heard heavy steps behind him and he dodged- though his foot didn't catch the right traction and he ended up slipping. He grunted in irritation as his body hit the ground. His ears rang as he rolled out of the way of a powerful stomp that definitely would've crushed his head if he wasn't fast enough.

He rolled into a coffee table and heard a bowl tumble onto the floor. Realization crossed his features as he saw that it was full of cellphones. They couldn't call for help because their phones were put away. Robin heard the giant turn towards him and so the boy had to kick his legs into the air to fling himself up, but as he stood and shifted his body to face the man in a mask again he was met with a face full of toxins. Robin gasped and wheezed- bringing his hands up to his face to shield his eyes and mouth, but there wasn't really a point to that as he already inhaled a bunch.

He could feel his body going weaker, vision foggy as the giant laughed at his predicament. In his hand was a squirt bottle filled with whatever it was that was affecting Robin now. Robin grew up getting his body adjusted to many poisons- he was confident he would survive this as well, but even if he could survive being poisoned it wouldn't help him if his body was being slugged down in the meantime.

His body was hit roughly with the palm of the man's large hand. Robin choked as he felt all the wind leave his lungs as he flew backwards- slamming into a wall and knocking wall art down with him. He fell with a crash onto the floor, the painting's frame splintered around him. "Guh-!"

Creepy eyes of the doll mask stared down at Robin- and it finally sunk in that he was pinned to the floor by the man's knees. His arms trapped by his sides. Fear finally started to settle in his stomach as he realized he might not actually make it out of this alive.

"Jo-AGH!"

Calloused hands wrapped around Robin's throat, eerie laughter emitted from behind the mask, "no no! Calling for help is against the game~" His hands squeezed tighter, causing Robin to choke, "this was a punishment~ Boss doesn't like it when people try going behind his back and making a profit off of his success. They all deserved to die."

Fuck- I'm going to die here. What is he talking about- punishment? What did they... Robin couldn't get his thoughts together. His face felt hot and it was so hard to breathe- blood was rushing to his head as the terrifying feeling of numbness affected the rest of his body. It was prickling and getting closer and closer to his brain. Black spots clouded his vision and he thought: This is it. Before seeing red.