Damian's Sister

The Children

~ The Children ~

Needless to say, all the Wayne children were in the red zone at after the trip to the office. They received an earful from Batman (not Bruce) and then high tailed it away. Dick returned to Bloodhaven, Tim to the Titans, and Red Hood to wherever. Daire and Damian, however, were stuck.

They were stuck inside, not allowed out much after the office incident (and they were doing their best not to bring it up. . . Things went South fast). But Bruce knew Jason was mainly to blame, so he tried to keep their punishment light.

Of course, with them sneaking off every other minute (an over exaggeration but it sometimes felt appropriate), they were making things difficult, hanging off of his last nerve.

The light atmosphere that had surrounded the Wayne Family the past few weeks had long since vanished. Any traces of it ever being there smashed with stoic glares and chipped tones.

Daire, who had started opening up to Bruce, retreated to her quiet self. She could always be found where Damian was, silent and blending with the background. Bruce wanted things to go back. He had liked the easy way things had settled, but he didn't know how to get it back. The children under his wing were more rebellious than ever, clashing with their new way of life. Daire wasn't so much the problem as Damian, but no matter what the boy did, she sided with him.

And, of course, the stunt they just pulled wasn't helping the situation.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

A young duo sat wordlessly in the speeding Batmobile. The youngest drove expertly on the snowy road, barely glancing at the green sign reading, 'Welcome to Ichabod.'

"I have half a mind to report you two for grand theft auto."

Two small figures jumped out of the parked vehicle, standing eerily in the fog.

Damian scoffed, smirking. "I'd like to hear that call. "Hello, police? My son and adopted daughter stole the Batmobile.""

"You find this amusing?"

"Very," Sparrow replied, trying not to laugh over the com.

"A little. I called and told you to meet us up here, didn't I?

"But what does a town that was wiped out by floods have to do with the children that have gone missing in Gotham?"

Robin and Sparrow inched forward, keeping out of sight. A big sign over an abandoned factory let them know of their location: Schott's Toys.

"Maybe nothing," Robin admitted. "But we found it a little odd that every one of them owned toys made here." They darted forward.

"You could have shared the information a little sooner."

"An alternate response might be, "Good work, Robin." But I guess I expect too much."

"I'm still a mile out. Don't do anything till I get there."

"Word of honor, I won't do anything."

They climbed in through a window.

They pulled out flashlights to see better, but everything stayed dark and quiet. They walked along the empty aisles, seeing rats and old dolls littering the shelves and path.

Sparrow elbowed Robin, her light pointing at a young girl's blue shoe. Their theory was correct.

"Remember, Robin. Justice-"

Robin sighed but finished, "Not vengeance."

The original owner of this place was a man named Winslow Schott," Robin informed, leading Sparrow deeper into the warehouse.