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You hadn’t meant to be on your way home so late. Tutoring ran longer than you intended, and you lost track of time with the teacher that had so graciously helped you with the math you were doing that semester. It was nearly 10 by the time you left the school. Your phone had a long list of missed calls and texts from Bruce, Dick, Jason, Alfred, and even Damian. Teeth biting down on your lip, you hit the dial button to call Damian back, knowing he’d be less likely to fret and shout at you over the phone.
“For a second there, I thought I’d actually be sad without your loud and obnoxious presence in the manor.” That was about as close to ‘I was really worried about you’ as you were gonna get with Damian. You sighed softly and adjusted your bag on your shoulder. The sidewalk you were on was empty and quiet, the streetlights illuminating your path quite nicely. It was such a pretty night.
“Sorry, I decided to finally ask for help with my math class. I really don’t want to fail that class.” You were in your second year of college, pursuing a major in psychology. Unlike your brothers, you actually wanted to do something outside of the whole Batfamily scenario. While you did participate in training and letting Jason and Dick teach you how to fight, you just couldn’t quite see yourself becoming a Batty with them. Bruce was silently glad about this. His only biological daughter wouldn’t have to face the cruel reality of his and his sons’ alter egos.
“Just hurry up. I’m tired of listening to Todd and Grayson whine about you and your whereabouts.” Damian grumbled softly. You smiled. You knew he cared for you in his own weird way, you two were related after all. He seemed to take a liking in the motherly way you looked after him, despite his protests that he didn’t need you to treat him like a child. You were just about to reply to him when you heard someone walking behind you, quickly catching up to you. Damian called your name, an edge of worry filling his tone. You didn’t get the chance to answer him. Whoever had been stalking behind you grabbed your wrist and pulled you into an alley, your phone falling from your grasp and hitting the concrete. Damian’s shouts never hit your ears.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing wandering around these parts?” The voice was too close, right in your ear, and you gagged at the thick stench of alcohol on him. Except, there wasn’t just one of him. There were at least five or six more men surrounding you and you sighed. Fear wasn’t something that came to you like it would any other person in this kind of situation. Trademark Wayne Blue irises flickered around the area, searching for something you could use as a weapon. It didn’t take you long to spot a metal pipe lying by a dumpster. Bingo. You allowed the man to run his hands up your sides, the right one swiping over your breast to reach your mouth. You nearly puked right then and there when his grubby finger pulled at your lip. That was the moment you took to bite down on the digit, blood bursting on your tongue, and your knee coming up quickly to make contact with his stomach. The man doubled over, the others frozen in a brief state of shock as you pushed him aside and ducked down to quickly scramble over to the dumpster. Your fingers wrapped around the cool metal of the pipe and you brought your arm up in a swift, fast motion, the steel connecting with the knee of a man to your left. He, too, fell over onto the damp concrete. Shaken out of their shock, the remaining three men lunged towards you. The metal pipe was swung up into a position much like you would hold a bat, and you swung out again, this time hitting a man square in the face. You almost cringed at the sound of bone cracking. You shattered his nose. With three men down, the last two looked between each other and turned on their heels to make a run for it. They didn’t get far, however, since your three brothers and father were standing at the end of the alley, dressed up in their usual costumes. It was Bruce that stepped forward and took the two men by the backs of their heads, slamming their foreheads together and letting going of them so they crumbled to the ground.
“Ah, hey there, dad.” Bruce didn’t say a word. He simply walked over to you, pinned you under that cold, blue gaze, before his eyes softened and he pulled you into a rare embrace.
“You had me worried sick.” You knew Bruce loved you, much like Damian did. They both had their own ways of showing it. Dick came up behind Bruce, tugging you away from your father and into his arms. He sniffled and you rolled your eyes. He was such a softie, but you adored that about him. Jason and Damian look between one another and joined in on the hug with Dick.
“Jesus, are you all sick? I understand getting a hug from Dick, but all of you?” Your comment caused Bruce to chuckle softly as he patted your head. Pride sat heavy in his chest as he looked down at the pipe still in your grasp and the men groaning in pain on the ground.
“Are you sure you don’t want to be a Robin?” Bruce tilted his head at his daughter. While he didn’t want to put her in harm’s way, he also had no doubt that she would be able to take care of herself. You smiled up at him and shrugged.
“I dunno. Maybe one day, but there’s no way you’re calling me ‘Robin’, that’s pretty lame.” A sharp pinch in your side told you that Damian didn’t appreciate your comment.
-
You stood tall on the roof of a building, cool blue eyes watching the ever moving commotion of Gotham silently. It had been a good year since you agreed to join in on the family business. Staying true to the common usage of winged creatures, you donned the alter ego of ‘Starling’, taking the name from a pretty black bird you once saw while reading. Your costume was fairly simple; a form-fitting black body suit with a utility belt slung around your hips, and combat boots tied up to the middle of your calves. Black gloves covered your hands, the right one having the ability to send strong shocks of electricity to whoever you touched. Around your shoulders fell a black cape, the hood pulled up to cover your lighter colored hair. It was the one thing that set you apart from your family, and you had a fear that someone would recognize the hair color, so you kept the hood up. A dark red cloth covered the bottom half of your face, an extra precaution so you wouldn’t be recognized. You really didn’t want to wear those masks that your brother loved so much. Speaking of your brothers, they had all stepped up next to you, even Tim had decided to make an appearance tonight. Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Starling, and the shorter Robin, the very pride and joy of the great and powerful Batman, all stood together at the top of the building. The boys’ hair were ruffled by the wind that had picked up, while your cape had rustled around you. In the distance, you could hear the loud alarms of police cars in pursuit of the ever constant flow of bad guys in Gotham.
“Well, looks like one of us has to take care of the north end.” A few moments of silence fell upon the five of you.
“Not it!”
“Fuck.” Dick had cursed under his breath, being the slowest one to call ‘not it’ among them. He flipped the rest of you off before heading towards the chaos. With a laugh, you dropped yourself onto the edge of the roof, feet dangling off the side of the building. Yeah, maybe you’d stay in the family business for a while.