Brothers To The Bitter End

18

"Ouch," Damian commented dryly as he whacked one of the friends across the face with the hilt of his katana. "That looked like it hurt,"

Dick flipped around another villain's body, wrapped his legs around the man's shoulders, and tased him with his, now electrified, escrima sticks. "Duh it hurt. The idiot wouldn't have passed out if it didn't,"

"Weak," Damian muttered, rolling his eyes. "He wouldn't have made it two days in the League,"

Dick snorted as he launched himself into the oncoming onslaught of mindless flunkies. "Not everyone is as accomplished as you are,"

"Including you," Damian ran towards Dick and used his big brother's back as a launching pad to fling himself high into the rafters.

"Dream on," Dick placed a gas mask over his face and broke open a canister of sleeping gas on the ground. Within minutes the horde of delinquents was fast asleep on the ground. As the gas dissipated, Damian jumped down from the rafters.

"Now what?"

"Now we track down the guy coordinating all of this, catch him, and go home," Dick pressed a button on his tac belt while Damian began to whine.

"But that's so boring! We already know where his hideout is! We already know who he is! Can't we do something fun like, oh I don't know, throw RH off a cliff and see how long it takes him to drown?"

"You wanted to learn how to be Robin. And lesson number one of being Robin is . . .?"

"Always listen to the first Robin," Damian grumbled.

"Because?"

"Because he's older than you, had more experience than you, and taller than you."

"Exactly," Dick grinned as his motorcycle (or as Dick called it the "Wingcycle") finally rolled into the warehouse on its own. "Although I believe that 'better looking than you' was also in there somewhere."

"And here I thought you didn't want me to lie anymore," Damian smirked as he climbed onto the Wingcycle behind Dick. "I can drive,"

"No,"

"I know how,"

"No,"

"Spoilsport,"

Neither one of them said anything as they drove to an apartment a few blocks down.

"Remember," Dick warned Damian as they hopped off his motorcycle, "you're here as backup. I'm not dealing with another Grimaldi incident again,"

"He deserved it."

"Just because someone deserves something doesn't mean you give it to them,"

"Give me one example,"

"You frequently deserve a good, hard spanking. It wouldn't do you any good, however, so I don't do it,"

"Not a good example," Damian knelt by the door and began removing the hinges as Dick pulled his escrima sticks out. "You don't spank me because you know I wouldn't change my ways. Therefore, I don't deserve it,"

"Oh you deserve it. I just don't do it,"

"Still need a better example," Damian kicked the door open and jumped to the side as Dick began blocking the onslaught of bullets raining out from inside the apartment.

"Fine," Dick threw one of his escrima sticks at the gunman, knocking him out and stopping the bullets. Damian, totally ignoring Dick's strict instructions, launched himself at the man sitting at the table. Damian knew that he was the man in charge because he was wearing a tailored Gucci suit. Only the head honcho could afford something like that. As Dick took out the remaining flunkies, Damian slammed the man, who they knew as "The Rainmaker" (soooooooo unimaginative in Damian's opinion), into the wall.