Rouge-Gorge (Young Justice Fanfic)

Preping the Alter Ego

By the time Damian arrived a the manor, he'd completely come up with his idea for an alter ego, amused at deciding to call himself the Rouge George. "Wonder which of my brothers will figure it out first?"

"Figure out what, Master Damian?" Alfred said, resulting in Damian looking up, eyes wide.

Damian let out a laugh. "Nothing."

"You'd best be on your best behavior while Master Bruce is away for Master Dick," Alfred said. "And while I admit that Master Dick and Master Jason wouldn't mind you starting a prank war while Master Bruce is away..."

Damian let out a sigh. "I know. I know. Tim head will be such a spoil sport."

"He is, you know, only looking out for you," Alfred said.

"His idea of looking out for someone is to stifle all joy from the world," Damian said, looking out the window. "Is it any wonder Jacian has PT-whats-it?"

"Do not blame Master Time for Master Jason's PTSD. That is a rather complicated matter involving a lot of things, things which Master Jason will tell you when he wants to and when he's ready to, but may also never tell you as well, even though you are brothers."

"Yes, sir," Damian said. "Do not do anything to make Tim-head go balistic thinking I'm going to burn the manor down." He glanced up, smirking, watching Alfred in the mirror up front lift an eyebrow in amusement.

"Very funny, Master Damian, but best not to repeat that to Master Tim, or he will think you will burn down the manor while Master Bruce is gone."

"Yes, Alfred," Damian said, heading straight for his room to dump his schoolbag onto his bed, pulling out the notebook, frowning as he contemplated a plan. "Next step. My alter ego needs a costume, gadgets and the addresses of three bullies who need to be put into their place." He tilted his head. "And I might go for one of those voice changers Papa uses, because that would be hillarious, small me having a huge voice. That would certainly scare the shit out of them."

Tucking his notebook away, sliding it under the mattress where Tim wouldn't see if he came by to see if Damian wanted help with homework, which he never did, Damian took a deep breath and headed to the study, heading straight for the grandfather clock and spinning the dials to the correct time, the time his grandparents were killed in Crime Alley.

"I'll certainly not be that kind of villain," Damian said, heading down into the Batcave. Looking around, he didn't see anyone, and started looking through some of the older costumes, pulling one out that looked to be the right size, setting it on the floor before going and looking for some spray bottles, shaking it up rather vigerously.

"What are you doing?"

Damian blinked, turning to see not Tim, but Jason.

"That's Dick's old Robin uniform. Don't mess with it. Please, Dames. And Tim, he's not quite ready to give up the role of Robin."

"He's a rather big Robin, isn't he?" Damian said, tilting his head.

"Don't go telling him he's gotten to big for the britches, so to speak," Jason said, giving the middle finger that Damian didn't understand still the meaning of beyond the fact he knew something had frustrated his brother. "He'll be on me for putting ideas into your head."

"You didn't. Twas my own idea."

"Twas not the night before Christmas, so don't talk like that," Jason said.

"You're frustrated."

"WEll, I come down her and see you tearing up Dick's old Robin suit, or something of the sort. When it comes to be your time, Bruce will have your own suit made."

"When?"

"Don't know," Jason said. "Just, don't go getting on Tim head's bad side, okay?"

"Got it," Damian said, pulling the uniform up, deciding he needed to do something else as he put the uniform back. A lack of uniform, though, didn't prevent him from snooping through the gadgets, with Jason slipping away for hero buisness despite the fact they were supposed to meet up for dinner. "Seriously. What's gotten into him?"

After finding gloves that contained a lock picking device and one of he assumed Dick's old toolbelts from when he was Robin, one that was for some reason black and dark rather than the usual bright yellow, along with what looked like thrown away throwing devices that didn't work out he way someone wanted, and of course the classic domino mask he headed up stairs, setting the items on his bed, sitting on the end. "Yeah, those were thrown away for a reason. They don't look the safest thing, and I'm up against other kids for this one."

Haphazardly, he tossed them into the wastebasket, not thinking anything of it, going to his closet and pulling out a black tutle neck, pants, ski boots and ski mask that covered his mouth, along with a red sweat jacket. He took a deep breath, rubbing the back of his head. "This will do, he said, going and closing the door so he could lay out the costume, realizing there wasn't much of any place to hide the clothes before dinner, as he'd be heading out after the fact."

But then...

"Jacian's not going to be there, giving us the middle finger, so why should I be there?" Damian said, changing into the clothes, frowning at the fact he possibly decided to choose clothes that were too warm before, pulling on the gloves, pausing, and then smiling. "Oh. Well, that is a delightful surprise, isn't it? I guess I can hold off until after dinner." He pushed a button, drawing up the computer built within the glove that he'd not expected to be there, grinning ear to ear. "I can find out where they live without finding some way to get into the school computers, or at least I think I can. Which is great because I need to finish this tonight to make sure they don't go after George."

Then came the groan and the facepalm. "I had to pick his name? Didn't I? I didn't even realize I had, but I must have forgotten for a moment what his name was again." Damian sighed. "Well, it's a bit late. I mean, I came up with the alter ego, right?"

A knock came on the door, and from the other side, he heard Dick's voice. "Hey, Damian. Alfred says dinner is ready."

"Jacian left, didn't he."

"I—well, Tim and I will be there. Jason said he had something he needed to take care of."

"Alright," Damian said. "But tell that brother of mine he'd better be at breakfast and dinner tomorrow."

"Got it, got it," Dick said.