The Cry of a Robin (Damian Wayne)

Chapter 9: Rescue

Dick's POV...

The sight of Damian beaten and bruised broke my heart. All he had to wear was a tattered pair of pajama pants and he looked like he was freezing, not to mention starved. I could count each rib jutting out of his chest.

I wanted nothing more than to beat the snot out of Deathstroke at the moment, but I knew that any dumb move could give Deathstroke a reason to slit Damian's throat. I glanced at Batman. He seemed to be planning something. He's always a man with a plan.

"I didn't want to do this," Deathstroke said. "I wanted to make this brat's death slow and painful, but he'll at least now finally feel peace." He had just broken a few layers of skin on Damian's neck when a perfectly aimed Batarang was thrown at the mercenary's hand, causing him to drop his sword in surprise. Damian clenched his teeth together, grabbed Deathstroke's forearm, and judo flipped him over his shoulder. It seemed to sap his energy since it sent him staggering, but he was grinning.

"Nightwing," Batman commanded. "Get Damian out of here."

"Right," I answered. I ran forward to get Damian, but I was blocked by three of Deathstroke's assassins. I knocked two out with my escrima sticks, but was too slow to get the last one. I ducked to avoid to sword coming at my chest, but it's blade still grazed my shoulder. I gritted my teeth and knocked his legs out from under the assassin, throwing down a smoke bomb to confuse him before snatching up Damian and running like hell out of there. Damian was much lighter than I remember him and that scared me. He yelped whenever I caused him pain and I started to make a mental list of his injuries. Broken ribs, whipping marks, badly burned arm, cut on his neck.... The list seemed to go on forever.

"Gray...son," Damian said weakly.

"Shut up," I said quietly. "You'll only make your injuries worse.

Damian's small hands just tightened on my suit. I had gotten to the Bat Wing and set him down gently in the seat. "Hold on," I said. "As soon as this battle is over, we'll get you home, okay?"

Damian's eyes wouldn't meet mine. Suddenly, they were alert. "Behind...you!"

I spun around and was attacked by another assassin. I slammed against the Bat Wing, the assassin ontop of me. I gritted my teeth and shoved him away. I flipped over his shoulder and grabbed a Wingding, throwing it at him. He caught it and tossed it away. Well, that's a first.

I wasn't in the mood for banter. My little brother was dying and this piece of trash was in on it. I kicked him in the head, using it as a springboard for another flip. He stumbled backwards and I finished him off with a blow to the head. "No one messes with my baby brother. No one!"

Bruce's POV...

"What the hell did you do to my son?" I snarled at Deathstroke.

"I was trying to break him," the mercenary said with a glint in his single eye. "Some will he has. He lasted longer than I first thought, though, I expected no less from the grandson of Ra Al Ghul. I thought you may have turned him soft."

He wasn't ready when I threw an explosive batarang at him. He barely had time to jump out of the way before it went off. All around me I could hear the League fighting off the assassins but I tried to ignore all of them. Deathstroke, the man who had hurt Damian, would pay.

While he was still dazed, I slammed my elbow into his temple, sending him to the ground. I continued to punch him until I knew he was down. "Don't you ever touch my son again," I growled.

Deathstroke held up his hand. There was a button embedded in his glove. "If I press this, the entire compound will blow."

I stopped, weighing my options. On one hand, I could try to knock him out before he presses the button. On the other hand, I could fail and we all could die here. I growled and stepped away from Deathstroke, but kept a ready stance in case he tried to attack again.

He got up slowly, watching me warily, thumb hovering over the button. He didn't press it, but he went down the same place that Damian and Dick had gone down. With a growl, I followed him. The League had almost finished off all of the assassins, so I decided that they could handle themselves.

Damian's POV...

Grayson was just finishing wrapping my burned arm, when we heard footsteps. Heavy footsteps that I knew far too well. "It's...him..." I told Grayson. He understood what I meant and took out his escrima sticks while taking a fighting stance. I felt so useless, but I couldn't even stand on my own. If I moved my torso, pain from my broken ribs flared up.

"Move out of my way," Slade growled at Grayson.

"I'm not letting you get to him," Grayson said. "You'll have to go through me first."

"Such a stupid mindset. You can't protect him, not from me." He took a remote out of his pocket and me heart skipped a beat. No, I thought. Oh god, please no!

He pressed a button on the remote and electricity coursed through my veins. I couldn't help but yelp in pain. Grayson tried to run back and help me, but he was hit in the back of the head by the hilt of Slade's sword. He slumped forwards, out cold. The electricity stopped, but Slade was getting closer. I tried to back up, but it just caused me pain. His hand shot out and grabbed me by the neck and held me in the air. My vision was slowly going dark when Slade suddenly dropped me, causing me to groan in pain. I looked up to see Slade in Father's headlock. He looked like he was about to snap his neck. "Father...no," I gasped out.

Father was holding him so tight that Slade slumped over, unconscious. Father let him drop and he came over to me. "Are you alright?" He asked, worry evident in his voice. I simply nodded. "Grayson..." I said weakly. I pointed to my older brother. "Slade...hit him."

"Shh," Father said. "I'll get Dick. Martian Manhunter will be here soon to deal with your injures. Just rest for now."

I nodded. He walked over to Grayson and set his unconscious form into the seat next to mine. The last thing I remember before falling asleep is the feeling of Martian Manhunter looking me over and healing my wounds.