Chapter Text
Robin is patrolling one night with Nightwing when he hears it. There's a quiet, pitiful yowling coming from the alleyway behind the library, the sound of a wounded animal. Nightwing shoots him an exasperated glance as Robin stops in his tracks, swirling around on his grappling hook to head directly over to the alley.
“Robin,” Nightwing says, voice static in Robin's ears, “Where are you going?”
Robin tuts into his comm, “I thought it was obvious. I am going to help that animal.”
Nightwing sighs, glancing back at the alleyway from where he stands across the road, on a rooftop. He pinches the space between his eyebrows.
“Batman put me in charge of you tonight,” Nightwing says into his comms, “You can't just wander off.”
“I am fine, Nightwing,” Robin says, as he drops down from the roof, into the mouth of the alleyway.
“Robin,” Nightwing says, and Robin ignores him.
He walks slowly into the alley, footsteps light. He can still hear the animal crying, most likely hidden behind the dumpster at the end of the alley. There's a scuttling noise as Robin approaches.
“Robin,” Nightwing says again, nearly whining, “We need to finish patrol.”
“We are already almost finished,” Robin replies, voice hushed as he approaches the source of the yowling.
“Yes, but you can't just wander off–” Nightwing is interrupted by the sound of a police car rushing down the street, sirens wailing. Nightwing groans.
“Robin, we need to–” Nightwing is interrupted yet again, this time by a crackling in their comms.
“Nightwing,” the sound of Oracle’s voice crackles to life in Robin's ear.
“They're just chasing what appears to be a drunk driver. You should be able to handle it alone.” Oracle says, and Robin smirks. He knew he needed to get the woman something nice as a thank you.
Nightwing sighs, but Robin is sure he can hear a smile in the man's voice as he replies, “Oh, alright. But if Robin tries to bring that thing home, I'm telling B. that you were encouraging him.”
“Oh, no you will not, Mister-” Oracle begins, and Robin turns the volume on his comms down, not wanting to be distracted. He treads carefully, deeper into the alley.
There's the sound of something scurrying across the ground at his approach, and he grins, crouching down. There's a clang! as something runs behind the dumpster in the alleyway. Robin cautiously approaches with slow, quiet steps.
There's another scurrying sound and then–
Robin blinks behind his domino mask.
“Hello,” he whispers.
There's a tiny creature huddled behind the dumpster. Robin isn't entirely sure what it is, but it looks like a mix between a cat and a snake. It has a cat-like face covered in white fur, with slitted, wide eyes and front paws. However, instead of hind legs, the creature appears to have a snake-like tail. Robin notices that it has a collar, large and uncomfortable looking, wrapped around its neck.
“Hello,” Robin whispers again, inching closer.
The creature hisses at him, drawing its body back, mouth opened wide and exposing its fangs. Robin pauses.
“You are safe,” he hushes, and he sits down on the dirty concrete of the alley. Even through the thick, protective padding of his suit, he can feel the chill of the cold ground.
The creature tilts its head. Robin notices that it has a gash down its side, crusted with green-black blood. It appears mostly healed, but Robin finds himself worried about infection. The wound clearly isn't very clean.
“I just want to help you,” Robin whispers, holding out one of his hands. He's holding a cat treat. He nearly always keeps a few cat or dog treats on him, in order to feed any stray animals he finds. The other vigilantes always tease him for keeping a few in his utility belt. He feels lucky that he has it now, as the creature slowly approaches to sniff a finger. Robin holds his breath.
The creature has a strange way of moving. The front paws walk, but the tail - it flutters behind, ethereal. He almost feels as if he were looking at a spirit.
The creature snuffles, and snaps the treat up, exposing its fangs again. Robin smiles.
“See?” he whispers, “It is okay.”
The creature gets a little closer, looking up at him with wide, wary eyes. They're bright, icy blue.
“It is okay,” Robin repeats, and then–
The creature stretches forward, its fuzzy head resting on Robin's knee. It makes a chattering sound that feels a bit like static. It looks almost…relieved? Nuzzling into his knee, trying to climb up. It felt like it was trying to tell him “don't go-”
Robin doesn't breathe as he gently strokes over the creature's head. It lets out a purr.
“You are fascinating,” Robin tells it, “I have never seen anything quite like you.”
The creature leans into the touch, but then it winces, turning its head back to lap at the gash on its side.
Carefully, gently, Robin scoops up the creature. It does not protest.
“I will take you home,” Robin tells it, “It is safe there and I will patch up your injuries.”
The creature vibrates in his arms.
“Tt.” Robin says, “I am glad you agree.”
When Robin grapples back to the Batcave, he sneaks by anyone inside to rush up to the manor, to his room. He's breaking the rule that he's not allowed to wear his Robin suit up there, but he finds he doesn't quite care. Nightwing will eventually end back to the cave when he realizes Robin ditched him, and Robin did not want to be caught red-handed with the creature.
He knew Nightwing wouldn't actually tell their father. The man was too kind for that. Probably.
Robin speeds into his room and shuts the door, locking it. He places the creature onto his bed, and smiles down at it as he removes his domino mask.
“Hello,” Damian says, kneeling by the bed.
The creature lifts its head, dazed. It looks tired, eyes barely open. Damian reaches under his bed to retrieve the first aid kit located there.
“I am going to patch you up, yes?” he gently explains to the creature. He can still see the thick gash on its side. The creature seems to almost understand him, rolling over limply to better expose the wound.
Damian cleans and wraps it gently. He finds himself filled with anger. The wound is almost healed, but was clearly at one point incredibly bad. He runs a wipe over it, seeing a clean, methodical cut. A blade did this. He tries not to think about how much the wound looks like a surgery incision as he carefully bandages it.
He is surprised at how well behaved the little creature is being. Had it been a pet, at some point? Trained? He still is not sure what the creature is, as it's an animal he does not recognize. He feels like he should maybe make a magical hypothesis…the creature acts like nothing a regular animal would.
He strokes down the creature’s side, and it purrs, leaning into his touch. It seems exhausted, head drooping against the blanket. It shakes its head, clearly bothered by the collar, every time it moves. Damian touches the lock on the collar, running his finger over it and feeling appalled.
“Shh,” Damian says, and he moves to grab his lock-picking tools from his desk, “Just one more thing.”
He holds the creature still with a soft hand, and picks the lock. The collar drops the bed with a silent thump. The creature seems to almost sag with relief, preening into his hand.
He picks up the collar and examines it. There's a small, glowing centerpiece with the number “01” in the middle. Running along the strap the letters “G.I.W.” were engraved into the leather. The inner side of the collar was also studded, and Damian clenches his hands around it to calm down. The little creature must have been in so much pain.
Damian strokes over the creature’s ears. While mostly white, the creature's ears were tipped in fine, black fur. He strokes a finger over them, settling himself. As he stares down at the creature, he also notices strange markings on the creature's fur…gray lightning up the normally black fur of its arm. Curious.
“You are safe now,” Damian reassures, “You can sleep.”
He shifts the creature onto one of his pillows, and lies down on the bed beside it. The thing immediately seems to pass out, curling into a little ball and making a grateful sound. He pulls out his phone and manages to send off a message to his brother, Dick, otherwise known as Nightwing, that he was indeed home safe. He knows his brother likes to worry.
When asked about the creature, he merely replies that he fed it some cat treats and nothing more. He turns off his phone. Damian falls asleep with the sound of purring in his ears.
When he wakes, he doesn't expect to find a boy his age curled up where the creature had been. Damian rolls out of bed into a defensive position immediately, fuzziness from having just woken up already leaving his mind.
The boy is wearing nothing but tattered, dirty pants and…bandages, running down his side. A scar in the form of a lichtenberg figure races up his arm. His hair, shaggy and long, is mostly black, but with a streak of white. The boy opens his eyes, and they're bright, icy blue.
“Hi,” the boy whispers, and his voice is cracking and dry, like he had not spoken a long time.
“Who are you?” Damian demands.
“Thank you,” the boy says, ignoring Damian’s question. His eyes are watering, and he wipes at them, and says, “Thank you for saving me.”
“I'm Danny,” the boy says, and Damian, he hears static behind the words, almost identical to the noises the creature was making last night. Damian blinks, and the next few hours of conversation leave him in a dizzy whirlwind.
Damian really does not mean to fall in love with the strange, shape-shifting boy. He guesses keeping an entire boy hidden in his room from his Father, and the rest of his family, for weeks might have had an effect on that.
In his defense, the strange shape-shifting boy is very, very cute.