Chapter 39
Dick knew something was wrong within the first five minutes of the drive home.
A silent Peter = A troubled Peter.
There had only been a handful of moments where Peter went quiet, each of them being around a disappearance or death within the family. He mourned silently, crying in the middle of the night while seeking out anyone who happened to be awake at the time to comfort him. Dick had a few memories of waking in the middle of the night as little Peter snuck into his room for cuddles, remembering the solemn boy quietly asking for a hug nearing sunrise.
This silence was different.
Something heavy hung over Peter.
Dick tried to keep a steady flow of conversation, despite how one sided it had been. Peter relaxed, if only a little, throughout. Once they returned to the manor, Dick had half hoped the cloud would lift.
But Peter ran to his room.
As far as Dick knew, his baby brother had been with Gwen the entire time.
“Peter seems troubled.” Damian stood by the stairs, eyes narrowed at Dick in disapproval.
“He didn’t say anything. Can you stay with him?” Peter might not talk about it but Dick will figure it out. He hoped it was just a fight. He couldn’t imagine what could have happened for Peter to be so… despondent.
Damian left immediately, practically flying up the stairs while still maintaining his air of indifference. Dick knew that Damian was worried despite it. He had taken the role of big brother to Peter as if his life hung in the balance. Damian would do anything Peter asks of him while keeping him safe.
Reassured that Peter wouldn’t be alone, Dick headed for the batcave.
“Babs.” He called, phone raised to his ear as he reached the grandfather clock.
“What’s wrong?” Babs answered immediately, hearing something in Dick’s voice that he couldn’t name.
“Track Peter’s necklace for the past two hours.” Dick moved immediately for the batcomputer, thankfully for once, Bruce had been held up in the Watchtower. His investigation into the blessing was going nowhere but this was taking priority now.
One screen lit up as Babs took control of it. The tracker’s pings from the past couple hours lit up to show he had been in the Stacey’s household. So either Gwen had done something, hopefully just a fight, or Peter snuck out.
“Thanks Babs. I’ll see you before dinner?” Dick barely waited for her reply before hanging up. There was only one person who could answer his question and Nightwing couldn’t be the one investigating.
The phone rang as he waited, sitting down into the chair with a hand pinching his nose. Peter’s silence scared him. His baby brother should have been rambling about his time with Gwen or asking about the next gymnastics lesson.
“Hello?” Sabrina’s voice broke him before he could spiral into paranoia. He’s spent too much time with Bruce.
“Hi Sabrina, it’s Dick.” Dick shook his head, sitting up as he spoke. “How’s Gwen doing?”
“She’s fine. She says Peter isn’t feeling well, is he okay?”
So she doesn’t know. “Can I speak to her?”
Sabrina agreed so while she went to find her daughter, Dick reconsidered the possibility that Gwen hadn’t done something. If that’s the case then Peter had left his tracker behind. Meaning he snuck out, again.
“Dick?” Gwen’s voice cut in. “How’s Peter?”
“I was hoping you could help with that, actually. Do you know what happened?” He couldn’t mention the tracker but he hoped Gwen’s concern would outway whatever loyalty an eight year old could hold on to. He needed to know what happened. He couldn’t help Peter without it.
“Um… Peter didn’t say. Skip had something to show him.” Gwen spoke, the worry clear in her voice. Dick could tell she wanted to know what happened too
Skip.
“Who’s Skip?”
Skip showed something to Peter. Okay. Alright. Don’t catastrophize this, Dick. You need more facts before any answer can be concluded.
“My neighbor. He and Peter are friends now.” Gwen answered with the innocence of a kid who doesn’t know just how bad things can go.
Skip Wescott. Seventeen years old and a student of Wilson High.
Why was a seventeen year old kid hanging out with Peter? Dick knew some people had friends of different ages but he couldn’t see what connection these two would have. Peter was always friendly with everyone, he saw the good in them more often than not. If Skip started talking to him then Peter would happily accept the new friend.
The question was why Skip talked to him. A neighbor would at most just say hello before moving on. Some neighbors have better relationships but this is Gotham. Everyone is mostly left to their own lives and neighbors were suspicious enough.
“Thanks Gwen.” Dick said his goodbyes before hanging up.
The screen showed the recent school photo of Skip Wescott.
He didn’t look like an up and coming villain.
But monsters don’t always look like the bad guy.
–
Peter had been in the shower for half an hour.
Damian had knocked when he first arrived at Peter's room but his little brother barely responded. Sitting on his bed, Damian made sure Quack and Zitka were present near the pillows. Richard had been worried and Damian began to see it now.
His little brother never minded showers. He took them as requested by his mother or their father. However, Peter never ran for the showers immediately upon his return from wherever he goes.
Richard had asked him to stay with Peter, not that Damian would have left him had he not seen Peter’s face as he ran past.
Something had happened and he would be remiss to leave his little brother to be alone.
The bathroom door opened, revealing Peter. His eyes were red from crying, skin marked from self imposed scratches that were already fading, and his hair hung heavy as water dripped to the carpet. He dressed in his batman pajamas, eyes focused on the carpet where his bare feet met it.
“Peter.” Damian frowned, his voice dropping to something softer at the misery that radiated from him. “What happened?”
Now, Damian had grown used to emotional brothers since he’s arrived to his Father’s care. Richard and Drake were loud with theirs, yet Peter’s emotional outbursts were generally exuberant. He could rarely recall Peter bursting to tears over a simple question.
His fingers twitched, wishing for his katana to cut through whoever or whatever had been the cause of this.
Peter climbed onto the bed, rushing to wrap his arms around Damian. The speed at which his brother ran for him would have thrown Damian from the bed had he not been prepared since he heard the water shut off. Damian held him just as tightly, pulling Peter closer.
“Who was it? I shall run them through.” Damian promised. Richard had undoubtedly begun searching for whoever caused this. Damian would have to look into his findings before slipping away from the family to handle the situation.
No matter what was done to Peter, no one was allowed to harm his brother.
Peter only cried harder, no name passing his lips.
Damian sighed, running his fingers through Peter’s hair in the way he’s seen Richard and Kyle do. Peter was not ready to talk.
He can be patient.
They sat on the bed until Peter fell asleep. Damian stayed, carding his fingers through the wet strands. His eyes shot to the door as Richard’s blue eyes peered into the room. Tense shoulders falling at whatever sight Damian and Peter made.
“He asleep?”
“Obviously. What have you found?” Damian resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Richard’s observation. Trained by the Bat, hmm.
Richard sighed, quietly slipping into the room to sit beside them. “I’ll handle it.”
“I demand a name.” Damian sneered. He could not allow his emotions to compromise his duty. As the older brother of Peter it is his job to protect him, to deal with those that threaten him.
“Stay with Peter. I’ll handle the target.” Richard’s voice darkened, eyes glaring at the carpet.
So he already knew what happened. Or he has a guess. Damian studied his eldest brother, noting how tense he was again at the mere thought of this unknown person. Damian could conclude some things but without a few more details he couldn’t be sure.
Did it matter?
Hardly.
Someone had hurt Peter. However they did it hardly mattered when there wouldn’t even be a death certificate once Damian finds them.
No one will find their body.
Batman will not even hear a whisper of this unnamed person.
Damian Al Ghul will go on the hunt for the perpetrator.
“A name, Richard.”
His brother’s eyes landed on Damian, making him feel small all of a sudden. Richard never had the darkness, the blood thirst that Damian and Todd carried. His eldest brother was obnoxious and loud, far too eager to please. He was no assassin. He was no murderer.
Yet now, Damian could see the potential. His Mother had settled for Todd, but he could imagine the danger of Richard being raised within the walls of Nanda Parbat.
“No. Stay with him, Dami.” Richard’s hand rested gently on his shoulder despite the burning hatred that flared in his ocean blue eyes. “I’ll handle it.”
So Damian stayed.
–
Bruce had been called away to the Watchtower.
“Stay with him.” Dick practically begged before leaving Damian with Peter.
That means he won’t arrive in time to save him, not like with the Joker.
“Who’re we killing?” Jason’s hand caught his arm, pulling him to a stop in the middle of the hallway.
Just in front of them were pictures of them. Peter and Jason. Dick and Peter. Dick and Jason. The entire little family in the hospital, Peter, all wrinkled and pink. Dick remembered thinking he had looked like a chubby version of Dobby.
“It’s just me. I was there, my problem to fix.” Dick turned away from the photos. Peter smiled that brightly today. This morning and afternoon when he picked him up from school. Dick had brought him to their house.
“Wanna tell me what happened? Alfie’s on his sixth batch of cookies already.”
“Jason…” His Pit Rage wouldn’t let him rationalize or be patient with this information. Dick could only conclude what happened to Peter without making him relive it by asking. Besides, Jason was just getting on better terms with Bruce. He couldn’t ruin that. “Just stay here.”
The words faded as Jason made whatever case. Dick couldn’t listen, not when he had his self appointed mission for the night.
Nightwing couldn’t kill.
Dick Grayson can’t kill.
There was no alias he could take that could possibly kill tonight.
But that was his baby brother.
And that son of a bitch deserves it.
He didn’t need a mask nor a name for tonight.
Not like anyone will see him, anyone who’ll survive the night that is.
“Like hell. What the fuck happened?” Jason growled, hand roughly dragging him back.
“I’ll explain later. I don’t know everything yet.” He’ll find out, of course. Wescott will talk but Dick could already figure most of it out.
He didn’t want to see it but… it was familiar. The silence and the long shower. Peter rushed to wash off grime and dirt that wasn’t physically there. His sudden silence. His hollowed out eyes.
Dick knew what happened because he’s felt it before too. He had been a lot older than Peter, a grown ass adult while Peter was just a kid. Tarantula got her dues, she lived but Wescott? No. Batman wouldn’t even kill those sorts of monsters. He may beat them worse than others but the one line he will never cross will always be there.
The Red Hood has his own judgment he passes on to them, one that Dick knew was deserving enough. They either survived or didn’t but they could never do something like that again after meeting him.
All the vigilantes were harsher when it came to those sorts of crimes. It was something repugnant. Cruel and monstrous.
But not tonight. The imaginary line will be crossed while Batman is off world. He won’t save this one.
–
Jason watched his oldest brother storm for the old grandfather clock.
Alfred had been off when he came by, offering him a variety of cookies. The number of choices was enough to tip him off that someone had been hurt and hurt badly. Alfred stress baked when things went south, when the man didn’t know what to do or couldn’t help them in any way. So when Jason had snuck into the cave for some gadgets and was met with Alfred’s array of treats, he knew.
Dickiebird was always the one to know, especially if it was big enough to concern Alfred. Him not even telling Jason? It had to be bad.
He glanced at Peter’s door for a second before he quietly slid it open to reveal Damian curled around Peter. His baby brother’s eyes were swollen, tear tracks stained his cheeks. Damian’s cold, angered eyes met his, a contrast to his fingers gently carding through Peter’s hair.
“You know anything?” Jason whispered, watching the pair for a moment.
“Richard refused to tell me.” Damian kept his voice low as Peter slept. “Check the batcomputer. I want a name.”
Well, that’s telling.
Jason left quickly after that. Following Dickie’s path to the cave to find it empty. The Nightwing suit was still hung up meaning he left as Dick Grayson. The Pits rolled in his gut, churning into anger without a target. He knew it was directed for someone but he didn’t know just yet.
The batcomputer had been wiped.
Dick cleared out the information he found.
“Stark, can you bring anything back?”
“Of course, Frankenstein. Like Lazarus, the data rose again.” Stark chirped as screens filled with information. Jason ignored the nickname. Frankenstein wasn’t the damn monster.
Skip Wescott.
Hmm. What did lil Skip do?
A neighbor of Gwen’s. A teenage boy with no record who lives in Crime Alley with both parents. It wasn’t very telling information but something about it ticked off Dickie.
Peter had been crying before he fell asleep with Damian.
Peter had visited Gwen’s before coming home today…
Jason could draw connections there. Skip must have met Peter and hurt him in some way. Whatever he’d done had set Dick off in a way Jason’s never seen before. Even going so far for Dick to go out rather than Nightwing.
“O, where’s Dickface?” Jason left for his bike. He didn’t need any more information from Stark. Not when Dick’s actions were enough now.
“He’s approaching Crime Alley… Jason, what happened?” O’s voice had a hard edge but the worry was there. Buried under work and the clacking of a keyboard as she tried to figure it out herself.
“Not sure yet. I’ll get back to you.” After the crime is committed. They’ll bury a body and then Jason will get his answers.
Jason sped out from the cave.
–
“How was dinner?” Selena glanced around the kitchen, eyeing the pies and cakes that littered the counters. She had been stuck at work a little longer than she expected. After making sure Dick was available to take Peter to his playdate, she had been trapped in meeting after meeting.
“I’m afraid those present today have opted to skip dinner today. I can make you something far more nutritious than this within the hour.” Alfred offered, placing a fresh batch of snickerdoodles on the counter.
The kids skipped dinner?
And Alfred allowed it?
“What happened?” There was no world where Alfred allowed the kids who skip a meal, especially collectively.
“Masters Peter and Damian will have dinner as soon as they wake up. Master Tim had gone to his home and Miss Stephanie joined him. Master Dick had locked himself in the cave before departing.” Alfred informed as he collected vegetables. “The others had informed me they would not be present for dinner tonight.”
That answered nothing.
Selena nodded silently, leaving Alfred to his baking as she went straight for the stairs. Damian hadn’t left for patrol tonight. While the Bat was away, he was allowed to join any of his siblings for it. For him to avoid going out at all was telling of something. She may not be a detective but a thief can always point out the abnormal.
The halls within the family wing were silent once she reached it. All the doors were shut but light stretched out from beneath Peter’s room. She made her way there immediately, knocking gently in case the boys were asleep.
“Enter.” Damian called.
Selena took a breath before twisting the knob. She entered carefully, taking in the room and its inhabitants.
Damian was sitting at the foot of the bed, Zitka held in his lap. Peter was curled by a pillow with Bucky at his back. The mountain lion cub chuffed as she entered the room, tail flicking lazily before he nosed at Peter’s arm. Bucky was still not house trained just yet, Alfred only allowed him inside for short and supervised visits.
Peter…
“Oh baby.” Selena’s heart broke at the tear stains on his cheeks, fresh tears wetting them again as she moved immediately to him. Peter’s arms reached for her as she sat beside him, pulling him into her side. “What happened?”
He cried into her chest, heavy sobs shaking his shoulders as fresh tears soaked into her blouse. She ignored it as she focused on him, fingers running through his hair gently as she hummed. Bucky pressed his nose into Peter’s side, purring as he curled around him more.
“I-I didn’t… I co-couldn’t…” Peter tried, sucking in deep breaths.
“No, kitten, shhh.” She’ll get answers later. “It’s okay now, you’re safe kit. Mommy’s here.”
She glanced at Damian, seeing him slide the elephant stuffie onto the bed before standing. Damian’s eyes were hardened, anger rolling in them as he left the room silently.
Bucky wiggled more, laying himself over the both of them as Peter cried. She held him tightly, softly singing as she continued to play with his hair. His body loosened slowly, the sobs quieting as Peter tired himself out.
Selena hoped Damian would take care of whatever he needed.
She sent out a quick text with her free hand as Peter slept against her.
Your son needs you.
–
Damian Wayne couldn’t kill.
Robin couldn’t kill.
Damian Al Ghul, on the other hand, has been stained red since he was six.
His League clothes no longer fit but that hardly stopped him.
In only the black attire of his under armor, Damian left the cave with Oracle’s directions in mind. Richard and Todd would have a head start on him but Damian would accept nothing less but to serve the final strike.
After Peter had woken up, bruising Damian’s ribs in the process, he had managed to learn a little of what happened. Or rather, he learned of the name as Peter cried into Quack’s feathers. Damian had brought Bucky in, the cub immediately going to Peter’s side as his brother wept.
A name hardly listed the crimes committed. Within the League, a name was enough. With his Father, a name never meant a death sentence. Tonight? Tonight it rang like a knell.
Skip had been whispered out of his brother as he cried and Damian will ensure this person could never harm his brother again.
He made it to Crime Alley in record time, finding the Stacey’s household before moving to the house next door. The window above was left open, one half of a curtain left hanging out of it. Damian made his way to the rooftop across, peering into the empty room. Nothing looked amiss, furniture left where they were and trinkets laid out amongst the nightstand.
“Oracle, the target had been moved.” It was smart to move the target to avoid civilians from overhearing anything. Damian would have done the same had he arrived first.
“They’ve turned off their trackers. Last sighting was a camera near Maple Ave. I suggest looking at the boarded up smoke shop.” Oracle offered after a minute.
Damian glanced at the empty room, the distance between Gwendolyn’s room and the target. He scowled before running off to his bike.
He was late.
Richard and Todd would have had plenty of time with the target and Damian would turn on them if they dare try to leave him out anymore than they already have.
The drive only took him ten minutes.
Even speeding through the streets did not help shorten the distance by much when they had gone to a location far enough away from where they had picked him up from. Damian’s mind raced with all sorts of scenarios that Peter had been in prior to returning home for the day. His desire for blood only grew as each possibility turned more and more depraved.
Gotham was a cesspit of cruelty. The worst thrive within the smog filled city no matter how many vigilantes flew through the sky. All of them have seen terrible things that hid within the shadows of their city. Batman had been sure to remind them that the worst can always get worse.
The old boarded up shop came into view. The street was entirely empty, not a soul wandered down the sidewalks where Red Hood’s bike was left right outside Practically advertising his location.
Damian left his own bike in the darkness of an abandoned alley before slipping through the shadows towards the building. The front door was unlocked, the chain snapped and left on the ground before it.
Pressing his gloved hand against the wooden planks that made up the door, Damian pushed.
The room inside was left a mess in the way any abandoned building was. Display cases were empty, shattered glass left on the floor where some teenagers no doubt broke it for relief or fun. A broken chair laid in splinters behind the counter where a door leading to storage was shut.
***
Damian leaped over the counter, twisting the doorknob as he entered the backroom. Sound reached his ears finally, desperate sobbing from the target wailing on the floor. Richard, fists bloodied, stood over him.
He stayed by the door for a moment, taking in the soundproofed room. The place had to have been a gang run business before Red Hood had taken them out, leaving behind the sound proofed room. Richard was fuming as he threw another punch to the already disfigured face of the monster.
Said monster, Skip Wescott, curled the best he could against the blows. Blood had taken over any clear skin, his nose shattered and face swollen. His arm was twisted and bent in a way that showed how obviously broken it was, fingers twisted in ways they were never meant to bend. Damian spotted something bloody and pink by his feet where the pool of blood was thickest. At this rate, Wescott would not survive the next four minutes.
Todd leaned against the far wall, a bloody knife in hand as he balanced it on a finger. His mask was held under his other arm, bright green eyes watching the beating with a satisfied smile curling his lips.
Damian scowled, they had left him out of this for too long. The punishment Todd had enacted on Wescott confirmed his theories.
“Move.” Damian hissed, elbowing Richard aside before slipping between the two. His knife, kept safe and sharp from the League, flashed under what little light the single bulb above granted them. He sliced through the blood coated throat, watching as blood gurgled out as the target’s eyes widened even more.
***
“You left Peter alone?” Richard stepped back, rubbing his knuckles as he watched Wescott bleed.
“Kyle arrived. I do not appreciate being left behind, Richard.” Damian growled at him. He would have stayed anyway, Peter had asked him to after all. Kyle’s arrival had just been perfect timing, allowing him the chance to end the monster that now haunts his brother.
Richard nodded, shoulders dropping at the news.
“Young Masters, Master Bruce has returned home from his meeting. I would suggest that you three return to patrol as the schedule expects of you. I have brought your dinner here along with a change of clothes. Leave anything soiled behind, I shall do my job here and clean the trash out.” Alfred stepped in behind them, his pristine suit looking out of place within the bloody and broken room.
Damian smirked, stepping away from the body. “Punctual as ever, Alfred.”