Chapter Text
“That was awesome! did you see that guys face?” Jon flew around so that he was in front of Damian, who had been trying to make his way to the edge of the roof.
“Of course I saw his face, I was right in front of him.” Damian pulled out his grappling hook and sidestepped Jon. “But now I merely wish to see the back of my eyelids.”
While Damian’ voice was usually apathetic or accusatory, Jon thought he heard an edge to his tone; one that, had he not known better, Jon would’ve called fear.
“Uh, that’s totally cool,” there goes any plans for late night ice cream. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow though, right?”
“Yes.” Damian’s statement was final as he leapt from the building, and disappeared into the night.
Damian was upset. But why was he upset if the mission was a success? That’s simple. The mission was a success…
Because of Jon.
Damian’s feelings towards Jon were complicated and confusing.
He saw Jon as a rival, someone who could replace him.
He saw Jon as a threat, a walking Nuke that would blow if he was too scared, hurt, or stressed.
He saw Jon as a partner, someone he could team up with to solve a problem or take out a rogue.
He saw Jon as a … friend, someone he could talk to, and spend time with, without having to be a Wayne, or an Al Ghul, or even a Robin. He could just be Damian.
Lost in thought, he made his way through Gotham on autopilot. being trained in acrobatics from the day he could walk meant that swing on a grappling hook and leap from building to building all while exploring his inner thoughts and feelings.
In other words, he was distracted.
He felt the stinging in his neck, and was pulled from his thoughts with barely enough time to land on a rooftop rather than pavement, before his vision blurred and went dark.
Damian hadn’t been choppered into school today. But that was okay, Jon wasn’t worried about that. Dami usually took at least one day off a week to work with Bruce or the Titans. What wasn’t normal, what worried Jon, was that he had broken his promise.
The moment the lunch bell rang Jon shot out of the school, like a bat out of hell. Within 32 seconds he was in the Fortress of Attitude. In the next 4 he was on Robin’s comm.
“Hey Robin, it’s me, where’re you at right now?” Silence.
“Buddy?” Silence.
“You’re kind of freaking me out here?” Silence.
“Uh, if you don’t reply in the next minute I’m gonna track you.” Silence.
10 seconds.
30 seconds.
50 seconds.
1 minute.
Silence.
Jon pushed the tracker button at super speed. The two things he saw made his heart stop dead.
Location:
16 Wharf st. Warehouse- abandoned.
Vitals:
Current- Alive; unconscious; stable.
Past 12 hours- Alive; un/conscious; distressed.