Nobody Was Around to Warn Me

3

Alfred knew that was not his grandson as soon as the boy hit his operating table. The lack of a Robin suit is the main indicator paired with the little freckles dotting his cheeks. Alfred relayed these observations on the private comm line between him and Bruce (Barbara also sometimes listened in). That knowledge did not stop him from giving his all to save the boy; his eyes flicked to where Tim was hovering by the door.

"Master Tim, please leave the operating room," Alfred said, the poor boy flinched at Alfred's words.

"Will he be okay?" Tim asked, his voice weak from crying.

"I will do everything in my power to assure his survival," He assured.

Tim blinked and hurried out of the room, leaving Alfred to care for the child on his operating table. With deft hands, he peeled off the stained shirt clinging to the wound on the boy's chest. Alfred prided himself on his composure in harsh situations, but that did not stop him from seeing red at the surgical cuts. Someone had slashed open the child, something akin to a dissection, or more accurately a vivisection. Alfred watched the boy's lungs shutter, taking up his tools, Alfred began to inspect the wound before he sewed it shut.

After several hours of work, Alfred finished suturing the child's wound shut. The kid would be out for a few hours at least, so he was not worried about leaving the boy alone. Alfred's expression was hard as he left the room, Tim was sitting slumped over in a chair near the door. The roar of the batmobile averted Alfred's attention, Bruce still had a few more hours left of patrol. Bruce clamored out of the vehicle and made a beeline for Alfred, his lip set in a hard line.

"How is he?"

"The child is stable," Alfred reported, noting the wat Bruce's lip twitched, "Damian?"

Bruce sighed, "There was no traces of Damian, just the puddle of blood that this kid left. I had Barbara search nearby security cameras but they came up empty—all of them at the same moment shorted out before returning to normal."

"What are we going to do with the child?"

"Watch him for now, inform me as soon as he wakes up," Bruce ordered, sweeping out of the room.

Alfred exhaled, he was going to need a strong cup of tea to soothe his headache, this was going to be a long night.

||

Tim woke with a start, blinking wildly, knocking the blanket that had been draped over him crumple to the floor. He scrambled to his feet, how long had he been out? Tim was still wearing his Red Robin suit so he did not have his watch on him. A sigh escaped his lips as he peered into the quiet operating room, Alfred was no where to be seen. It was odd that Damian was still in the room, usually they were transferred to their rooms or a different cot in the cave.

Tim pressed a few buttons on the door and allowed himself in, Damian would be petulant about being injured but Tim was too tired to care. Damian looked so small and thin in the bed, his eyes and cheeks sunken in, it made Tim frown at the sight. It was only when Damian's eyes fluttered open that Tim noticed all of the glaring difference.

Tim blinked dumbly. "You're not, Dami."

The strange kid in the bed stare with wide eyes—blue eyes, Damian had green ones—watching Tim closely. Tim swallowed the lump in his throat, why did he not notice anything before.

||

The airport was close now, crossing the river had been a pain in the neck and Damian had to swap clothes again. The hoodie he found did its job of hiding him in the crowds of people, no one looked twice at the teen. Wandering through the streets inconspicuously was like second nature to Damian, being noticed was usually a pain in the neck.

He walked past a newspaper stand, lazily gazing across the various papers, and his heart dropped. Damian's eyes locked on a newspaper, desperately he snatched one off of the stack. His face—not his—was in the paper—

HAVE YOU SEEN ME?

DATE MISSING: XX/XX/XX

NAME: Daniel J. Fenton

FROM: Amity Park

DOB: 2/12/XX

SEX: Male

AGE: 16

HAIR: Black

EYES: Blue

Damian took a deep breath, Danyal was alive.