His father was getting old.
Damian had noticed a certain lack of focus in Bruce's performance lately. Details escaped the masterful detective and he had suffered from more lacerations and abrasions in the last six months than the previous ten years that Damian had served by his side. Age was rapidly catching up to the elder Wayne and it would only be a matter of time before his foes began to notice. That is why tonight, Damian Wayne was not Robin.
He was the Batman.
Bruce was on the other side of Gotham, his patrol had taken him into the Cauldron. Damian, on the other hand, was chasing up his own leads. The number of missing children in Eastern Gotham was tracking towards doubling the amount reported in the previous month with the number growing at an exponential rate. The police had little interest in pooling any of their scarce resources towards finding the lost youths, Damian estimated at least eighty-five percent of the missing children numbered among Gotham's low-income families and the homeless. Such a statistic lent to the GCPD's reluctance to involve themselves in locating the lost ones.
Moving swiftly from rooftop to rooftop, Damian felt the grapple go taut as he swung over the four-lane road that lay numerous stories below. The tails on the coat of his bat-suit spread wide casting the familiar silhouette along the side of the tall skyscraper. Damian was currently tracking a non-descript van that was moving quickly in and out of traffic. Tinted windows adorned its sides while an illegible license plate hung loosely from its rear bumper. Generic steel rims sat on either side of both axles while a faded black paint job coated the vehicle from front to back. Had the owner tried to make the vehicle blend in any further it would have accomplished the opposite effect.
Damian watched as the vehicle departed from the main road, turning on to a street to the left before veering right down a side street. Extending the retractable wings from the back of his suit, Damian couldn't help but reluctantly admire how far Lucius Fox's designs had come from the days when his father could only glide between rooftops under the assistance from a harness and glider. Landing on the opposite rooftop, Damian drew a pair of binoculars from his belt as he looked down on the now parked van. Even from this height, Damian could smell the enticing aroma of food coming from the back of the van.
"TT." His tongue clicked against his teeth as he looked down with disapproval. The van bore no markings nor any indicators of being a charity, the food inside wasn't anything like what was served in Gotham's soup kitchens or shelters. No, this was bait, meant to entice and trap the unsuspecting. If Damian had to guess, and he rarely did, he would have suggested the food was laced with a digestible sedative. Something that kicked in during digestion, leaving the individual vulnerable to kidnapping at the abductor's convenience.
Continuing to watch, Damian stood perched on the edge of the building, his body patiently watching as people of all ages made their way to the van to accept the 'hand-outs'. His father believed he hated stake-outs, this was due in part to Damian's deception. Stake-outs with his aging father were a waste of time now, time that could be used to divide Gotham between the two of them. Noting any child who approached the van, Damian paid attention to the direction they traveled as they scurried away, a warm meal firmly held in their small hands.
It was hard to gauge a timeline for the sedative to be effective. If this was his suspect, and they did prefer children, then the sedative would be designed to affect a small body quickly. No point in letting the child get too far out of range. Damian continued to watch as the pair of suspects continued to work only for one of the people they were trying to 'aid' suddenly pulled a knife.
Finally, a reason for the 'Batman' to intervene.
Leaping from the rooftop, Damain felt the wings expand from the back of his suit as the shadow of the Bat fell upon the unsuspecting below. An aerial kick knocked the knife from the would be assailants hand as Damian quickly spun around, his hand reaching out towards his suspect. Engulfing the neck of the suspect in his hand.
A sudden familiar smell caused the son of the Bat to pause. Blonde hair spilled over his hand as Damian began to evaluate the woman in his grasp.
Blonde, roughly five foot and five inches. Petite but athletic frame. Blue eyes.
Stephanie!
Damian withdrew his hand as Stephanie fell to the ground, gasping for air as Damian turned to the older figure accompanying the young adult. Sage eyes filled with disapproval and resentment washed over Damian as she tilted her chin defiantly to the taller male.
"You're not him."
"No, Doctor Thompkins," Damian stated flatly, a growl imitating that of his father's swelling in his throat. "I am not." He answered, quickly raising a fist beside his shoulder as Stephanie and Leslie's would be assailant rose to his feet only to be downed again, blood spraying from his nose as it impacted the reinforced knuckles of Damian's gauntlet.
"Dami-... Robin!" Stephanie stated as she caught herself. Eying the now towering male from head to toe, she crossed her arms smugly as she looked at him with a smirk. "You've grown."
"So have you." Damian answered instinctively before realizing with slight horror the implications of his words as Stephanie shifted her crossed arms higher. "As a person..." Damian continued, his voice trailing off.
"TT." His tongue clicked against his teeth with frustration as he tried to collect himself, his words becoming increasing flustered as he realized just how much Stephanie had matured. "Miss Brown." He concluded with a solemn nod.
"Always good to see you Dami-uh, Batman? Yeah, Batman." Throwing a mock salute towards Damian, Stephanie rolled her eyes as she turned back to the van. Damian could feel the piercing eyes to his left as he turned, the woman walking foward to address the 'Batman' before her.
"What the hell are you doing out here in that god-awful imitation?" Leslie yelled as she jabbed a finger into the armor plating strewn across Damian's broad chest.
"I made a number of improvements upon the existing des-" He began to answer before the older woman waved a hand in front of him.
"Not the point young man." Leslie stated as she cut Damian off. "Of all of you, you're the one I hoped never donned that cowl. There's a darkness in you that doesn't belong in the Batman, you can't possibly believe you're the best choice to live up to this legacy."
"I am the only choice." Damain growled. His tone was torn between defensive and defiant. How dare this woman believe she had the right to tell him, that he, the flesh and blood of the Batman himself, was not the rightful heir to the cowl.
"God watch over Gotham if Bruce dies." Leslie muttered, her tone hushed but still more than loud enough for Damian to catch every word. Their steely gazes met as it quickly became apparent the two wouldn't see eye to eye. The tension broken only by a nearby scream.
Turning with hand raised, three batarangs slid smoothly from Damian's wrist mounted dispensor in between his fingers as he turned to the source of the scream. Stephanie had wandered away from the van, approaching what had appeared to be a woman sleeping behind a nearby dumpster.
"She's..." Stephanie stammered as Damian approached cautiously. The girl had spent time in the field alongside the likes of Tim Drake, so while she may have still been soft, she should have been no stranger to a dead body.
But what Damian saw shook even him to the core.
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