[Narrows - Gotham City]
1:43Am Western Time
On a rainy Gotham night, the vigilante know as Red Robin leapt from a rooftop to rooftop in pursuit of a van speeding hastily down a road.
The van's red back lights flickered, leaving a trail of omnipotent(??) red streaks in its wake.
Red Robin sucked in a breath as he pushed himself after the vehicle. The rooftops were slippery, dangerous. He was having trouble keeping up with the van as he had to continuously catch himself as to not plummet from a rooftop while running.
It didn't help that his legs legs were on the rather short side. He himself, in comparison to the rest of his family was on the extremely short side. Even Damian was already reaching his height of five feet and four inches and the kid was barley eleven.
Rain viciously pelted against his cowl. It kept coming down so hard that his vision was obscurely blurred.
He wiped his hand against the lenses of his cowl. Parkour through the Narrows on a rainy night was not his idea of a good night. Patrol had been quite calm lately, which frankly was superseding for Gotham. Nothing more than a few petty crimes for the past few days. However, when a distressed man walked into the Gotham Police Station demanding protection from Batman, the Batclan had been alerted and informed of the situation they were being asked to handle.
Apparently, he was some sort of business chum. 'A pal of Bruce Wayne's' were his words. Though through clarification from Bruce himself, he was not a pal nor friend. Just another one of those twisted Silicon Valley Meatheads with a knack for taking what they want and ruining other people's lives.
Now as to why this man introduced himself as a friend of Bruce's was still unknown to them. In the debriefing, they had come up with a couple of speculations as to what this man's ulterior motives could be. Possibly to sabotage Wayne Enterprises. Or to get into the king of Gotham's good graces. Who knows.
What they do know, is that he was involved in a scandal. This man was the victim of it.
His business partner had scammed him, taking their earnings. And if that wasn't funny enough, he had told their shareholders and buyers that the meathead of a man was actually the one who stole from them.
That wouldn't have been considered a problem in need of Batman's solving. It'd be chalked up as (something) fraud at the most. Though coincidentally, their buyers were renowned members of a Sicilian mafioso family that had recently branched out to Jersey state. A risky choice, extending their business to Gotham. The most that the Batclan could do from here was to drive out this branch family while protecting the man.
So that brings us to Red Robin who in his pursuit of a van filled with bad guys, but he tripped, and was currently sliding down a slanted rooftop with the terminal exhaustion of a eighty year old man who hasn't slept in days.
The roof being slanted and made of glass did nothing good for him. Plus the rain. It might as well have been a slip and slide to his death.
As he fell of the edge of the roof, Red Robin twisted midair- almost cat like. Managing to wedge himself between a air conditioner and the fire escape of the neighbouring building. Unfortunately, he couldn't spare smacking into the brick wall. But at least he was alive.
Red Robin groaned.
A concerned voice crackled in his ear. "Red Robin! Are you okay? I heard a crack on your end are you hurt? Do you need help, no wait, I'll come to you just-"
"I'm fine." Red gritted through his teeth. It took a lot of willpower to not hiss in pain.
That crack Nightwing had heard. It must've been a bone. Maybe multiple. He couldn't tell, but his whole right side was flared up in pain. A intense burning sensation shot through his body as his temple throbbed.
Black edged in the corners of his vision. His arms were pinned at his sides. He wiggled his torso slightly testing his movement. A spike of pain hit his side. He cried out in pain.
Why did it hurt so much?
Subtly he could hear Nightwing's concern grow in his left ear. Sometimes words would be drowned out by static as lightning struck the sky. Thunder rumbled loudly, cutting off what his elder brother was saying.
He tried to speak, yet only ragged breathing was the most he could manage. In fact, breathing became suddenly difficult as he thought about it.
It was like every breath he took had him in hailing razors. Razor blades that were cutting up his lungs from the inside.
A numb feeling slowly crept up his arm. Blood loss. Red Robin realized. Something had sliced his side as he fell. He needed to do something. Squirm out of this spot before he lost enough blood for his state to become irreversible. Though it became increasingly difficult as he continued to struggle his body felt disconnected from his mind for moments, before snapping back into his body.
No, he wasn't going to go out like this.
He imagined a gravestone, on it written; Here lies Timothy Drake, worst Robin. Taken from us by a slippery roof.
Hell no.
He wasn't going to die like that. Jason would laugh at him by his grave. Damian probably wouldn't give a rat's ass about his death. Bruce, Dick and Steph would be disappointed in him.
No fucking way. He was already considered the weakest and scrawniest of the bunch. Tim wasn't leaving this earth until he had proven himself to his family.
With his last futile efforts, heavy breathing and awkward kicks to the air as he squirmed. Red Robin managed to free himself. Though once again. Gravity got the better of him. As he hadn't anticipated being stuck up so high.
He plummeted to the ground with a splat.
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Uhhh hi, I hope this wasn't too shitty.
Feel free to contact me if u have suggestions as to what direction this story should go :P
