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Title: Little Buddy
Author: Tyrror
Pairing: Damian/Colin
Rating: PG
Summary: In which Damian is reminded that he may be exceptionally skilled, but he is still not tall enough to ride this ride...


“Hey look, boys, seems the little birdy's backed himself into a corner...”

The generic, low class underling slurred with what would seem to be at least some level of liquor inhibiting his ability speak. Damian was rather certain that, even had he been in full control of his senses, a state that the boy was beginning to imagine he didn't experience regularly, his voice likely wouldn't have been much more pleasant for the listener.

As it stood, the boy crouched in a casual defense between the slowly growing mob of nameless thugs and the edge of the roof which, under any other circumstance would have been less than problematic for someone who caries a grappling gun and an uncanny ability to always land on his feet from great heights. However, considering his only functioning grapple was currently located somewhere behind drunken grunt number three, even Damian was rather certain that he would need a little more than luck to land unharmed after the forty-seven floor drop to the pavement below.

“What's wrong, birdy?” a faceless name called from the dimly lit shelter that was the other end of the rooftop, “No way out?”

It wasn't until that moment that Damian's ears prickled with a realization that he hadn't made just moments before and, resisting the urge to curse his inability to notice something that should have been so obvious to him, he slide a sneer out to one side of his face and then spat roughly on the concrete between himself and the encroaching mob. Reaching for his belt, he easily pulled a single, dark blade from his its confines and let out a rough laugh as he pressed hard on either side, the small red light in the center beeping before blinking in a rhythmic manner.

“There's always a way out,” He stated calmly before tossing the batarang into the midst of his attackers and gracefully falling back, over the edge of the roof and towards the streets below.

The sound of the explosion echoed above him and he grinned slightly to himself, twisting his body so that he no longer fell head first, but leveled out with his back towards the ground. Counting the floors as they flew steadily past his falling form, he had made it to eight before his body came to a sudden halt and he felt the familiar warmth of large arms cushioning his entire form. With a gentleness that really wasn't necessary in his mind, Damian was brought in through the window and set on the ground where he looked up into the scarred face and large hazel eyes of his best friend and confidant.

“You are going to be the death of me, little man,” Abuse spoke in a slow, drawling manner that was Colin's attempt at sounding like an adult.

“I can take care of myself just fine,” the smaller boy shot back with far less malice than his voice would normally entail. “Besides, it's not like you're always a behemoth who towers over us normal mortals.”

The last line made the hulking man smile somewhat, despite his knowing that smiles on the broken, scarred face of Abuse were almost always more disturbing than they were comforting. Most of the time, while he was glad for the ability to protect and for the strength that Abuse gave him, Colin looked at his alter ego as something closer to a curse. Just one more thing that made him strange, unusual...unwanted. But when Damian talked about the ginger's power it was with a voice that said other people should be envious of him, that he should be proud of what he had become as the outcome of his suffering...and in some way, it made him actually feel that way.

“True,” the behemoth said, “but I'm still taller than you even when I'm not like this...little boy...”

He watched as Robin's shoulders tightened slightly at the jab and waited until he knew the other boy was about to swing around and let him have it to bring his hand down on the smaller boy's form with what may have possibly been more force than was necessary, causing Damian's knees to buckle momentarily and his step to falter.

“However,” Colin continued as if nothing had happened, “We'd best get out of here before any more goons show up...little buddy...”

Somewhere behind him as he strode off, he heard Damian make a noise that was somewhere between disgust and a whimper and for just a second Abuse felt bad making fun of his friend's height but even that twinge of guilt couldn't keep the grin from spreading across his face once more.

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tyrror

December 2012

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