DISCLAIMER!!
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This story is undergoing some editing and revamping. A few plots have been changed and some minor altercations that help with the flow of the story. Please do not be alarmed if a few things don't add up I wrote this at a...
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" Scarlett—Scarlett—Come In Scarlett."
Kats voice rang in my ears as I stood before the two bodies of the two men I had beaten up. One for revealing who I was, for recognising me. But I managed to get the information that I wanted. A part of me not caring for the actions I had just done.
" I'm fine Kat. I'm on my way back to you now. I got the information I wanted." I said dryly as I strolled across the rooftop towards the direction of my old street.
It didn't take long for me to arrive at my old house. Kat stood in the doorway holding it open as I walked inside, dripping the bag of blades and other gear she thought I would need at the bottom of the stairs.
" a few scratches but overall for your first heist I'm impressed Quinn." Kat smiles taking a long sip of her soda.
" Thanks." I said bitterly staring at a blade in my hand, the blood of one of the men still in it, dried into the cracks of the carvings.
" What's wrong?" Kat asked placing her soda down, removing her feet fro moths coffee table she'd dragged downstairs to accompany the couch. " You seem troubled."
" Nothing." I shrugged placing the blade back into its sheath removing my jacket. " I better head back to the Hernandez's, it's late and they'll get suspicious."
Standing upright fro my leaning position against the desk I made my way towards the concrete stairs. Something in Kats smile revealed that she knew I was lying.
Biding each other goodnight we left the abandoned catacombs of my childhood going our speedster ways into the night. Myself catching the train back to my new home.
It's time to face the theatrical music. Also known as Jacob Hernandez.
Whilst i was fighting my own mental stability on the train across Gotham Damian Wayne was dealing with his own issues. Issues that I never thought in a million years we'd have in common.
"Damian, your going on patrol tonight. No skiving off. No ditching the job to go visit some girls house." Bruce ordered, his deep rough voice proving that he wasn't joking around tonight.
" Yes father, I understand." My voice almost monotone at the countless times I've recited the line.
Shifting forward, standing on my own two feet I leaned off the freshly polished bonnet of the bat-mobile. My fathers pride and joy. The sound of a bikes grumbling fierce engine echoed the jaggered walls of the bat cave, sending a rumble rippling around us, a cluster of bats were sent scurrying all sawing off in to different directions.
