Chapter Text
Gotham was never hospitable. There was a constant overcast that shrouded the city in dreariness. This grew more prevalent in the winter, as did the smell. Large cities never smelled pleasant, but in Gotham, the smell clung to you like a tick. The only thing more overwhelming than the smell was the crime that filtered through every nook and cranny. Anything could happen to anyone, and no one would bat an eye because it was Gotham. It was on such a night, when all these things were at their peak, that the impossible occurred.
Gotham's dynamic duo were currently fighting on the rickety roof of an abandoned science facility. The purpose of the facility has been lost to time, and it became home to nameless thugs with nowhere better to be. The threat was minimal and should have been a good warm-up for the true threats. Well, you know what they say about good intentions.
With practiced ease, Robin landed a kick to the goon's chin, earning a crack and a string of cuss words from the criminal. He continued to land blows until the criminal was incapacitated. Damian admits that he could have knocked out the criminal in one blow, but anger urged him to land extra hits. Earlier that day, he had an altercation with Drake. Damian was innocent. It was Drake who blew it out of proportion, but did anyone else see it that way? Of course not! Grayson was in Blüdhaven and was not answering his phone. So, he could not come to his aid. Damian is not close to his other siblings and is unwilling to ask for help from them. Father had almost benched Robin, and Damian is grateful that Pennyworth was able to convince him not to. Even so, Father stated that they would talk after patrol. In other words, Damian was about to receive a lecture that would most likely escalate in some way. So, if Damian hit criminals harder than needed, then it was their fault for being at the wrong place at the wrong time.
When the last of the thugs hit the ground, a silence permeated the air. That was until Oracle’s familiar voice came through the comms. “Oracle to Batman.” Father turned his back to him and started speaking into the comms. Damian tried to focus on the conversation, but something else grabbed his attention. Or rather, a strange buzzing static at the back of his mind that was pulling at him. A strange need to follow, to investigate, to know. He explored attempting to locate where the buzzing was coming from. It only took two steps to change everything. Two steps became his greatest regret.
Damian hit the ground before he even knew he was falling. It wasn’t a graceful fall by any means. He landed face-first and could feel a painful crick in his neck from it. How disgraceful. Damian hoped that Father did not see this embarrassing display. With more effort than he would ever admit, he dragged himself upward. Only confusion greeted him as he took in his surroundings.
Damian stood on a moist yellow carpet in a room, or rather a series of rooms all interconnected. A scowl slid onto his face like a second mask. Had he fallen through the roof? Looking up, Damian saw an undisturbed ceiling. A feeling of wrongness settled on him like a weight, but he refused to be intimidated by it. Tapping into comms, Damian spoke with his usual confidence. “Robin to Batman.” After a few moments of silence, he tried again with a little more force. “Robin to Batman.” Only the faint buzzing of the fluorescent lights could be heard. Frustration bubbled in his stomach as he changed his strategy. “Robin to Oracle.” Once more, silence greeted him. “Robin to Red Robin.” Silence. “Robin to anyone!” Silence. Frustration reached its peak, and a deep growl escaped him. The comms were out. He didn’t know how, but they were. He would just find the exit, or a window, or something, and leave. Picking a direction, Damian started walking.
Every step he took on the shag carpet, a disgusting squelch followed. It reminded Damian of the Gotham sewers, as did the smell. He passed by multiple walls, all of which were covered in the same cheap yellow wallpaper. Overhead were fluorescent lights placed at odd intervals. He didn’t know why, but this place felt familiar. Like a memory he couldn’t quite place. At the same time, it was off. It made his training, both league and bat, scream danger. Damian readied himself for it as he continued walking. If there was danger here, he would be ready for it.
Damian pondered as he made his way through another empty area. What was the purpose of this place? It didn’t seem likely that it was the abandoned science facility that he and his father were fighting on, but what other alternatives were there? Could someone have teleported him here? If so, for what purpose? Damian has been teleported before, but this didn’t feel like that. He filed these thoughts away for later. Out of the corner of his eye, Damian spotted something moving.
Damian crouched down. Silently, he hid behind a wall. Faintly, he could hear metal rattling. Peeking through an opening, Damian spots it. A swing set. Perfectly ordinary in normal circumstances but finding it in the middle of a large room in an unknown location was unnerving. Dread crawled down his throat the longer he looked. The swing set looked like it had melted. Part of it was sinking into the floor, but the floor was whole and untouched. The chain connected to the seat swayed unprompted. As if a wind was blowing it, but the air was stagnant and thick. The silence of this place made the faint rattling of the chain loud and commanding. Years of training screamed at him of the wrongness of this place. Suddenly, the sounds of the fluorescent lights above became too much. Damian turned around. He sprinted away.
There was something very wrong with this place. He needed to leave and fast.