1 Prologue Gotham

A girl with dark blonde hair and brown eyes stood outside of the Manhattan Police Station. She clutched a small notebook to her chest tightly. She stood staring at the rain gutter.

It was the beginning of the end of summer. A few early leaves had found their way off their trees and into the storm gutter.

The girl smirked to herself. "That's an analogy to my own life if I've ever seen one," she muttered to herself.

Cars passed by the girl, the people inside them not even giving her a second glance. The girl wondered if anyone would stop if they knew what had just happened to her. She would have to call up the two friends she has at school later, right now she just wanted to get home.

The girl had lived her whole life in Manhattan and she knew the exact types of days there were, sunny or depressing clouded days. And today it was a depressing cloud day.

Her day had started off nice, cooking eggs and toast for herself in her pink striped pajamas and hair in a messy bun. She had received a call as she was cleaning off her plates from the police station. They had asked if she could come in later today. At first she was confused but agreed anyway. She couldn't really say no.

Once she had arrived there after a surprisingly quick taxi ride, she was escorted into the captain's office. The captain was a tall muscular - or was it fat? - man with no hair except for barely-there eyebrows. He had closed the door and looked at her with a look of what looked like he was begging for food. He started speaking about how he was so sorry and if there was anything he could do. She grew even more confused. The police captain then explained how early this morning they found a red Toyota Corolla wrapped around a telephone pole. The passengers inside we both dead. The IDs said they were Fabian and Hailey Vindai .

The girl had cringed because he had pronounced her last name Vin-day when it was pronounced Vin-die. She corrected him, of course, but he said again that the Corolla was found wrapped around a telephone pole with her parents dead inside.

She of course was stunned, no words came out of her gaped open mouth. When she regained her composure she spoke.

"That's not true. My parents went on vacation to see my grandparents, in Gotham. They were supposed to get there late last night and call me when they woke up. My parents aren't dead. This is not funny. It's my parents you are talking about."

"Sweetie are your parents Fabian and Hailey Vinday? And are you Lindsey Marie Vinday?"

"It's Vandai and yes."

"Then I'm afraid it's true."

"It can't have been them," Lindsey started speaking again. Tears were welling up in her eyes.

"Nothing like that could ever have happened! It had to be a hit and run, or something like that."

"There was no evidence that anyone had even been on the road until the person who called it in. I'm sorry, sweetie."

She then broke down in tears. She remembered what she said as they left, "And I promise there won't be alcohol at the party I'm throwing!" They had laughed and called out their love for her. She hadn't even said she loved them back.

The police captain continued to talk over her crying about a notebook they found in the glovebox and another in her mother's purse. It was their last will and testament. Why she carried it around was a mystery and when he asked why they were in such open places, Lindsey couldn't even give an answer. It laid out everything. And right now Lindsey was holding the one that was in her mother's purse against her body.

Lindsey quickly hailed a taxi and gave the driver her address and if he wouldn't mind her sobbing in the backseat.

"Princess, I've had a lot worse in that backseat. You go ahead and cry."

And that's what Lindsey did.

When she reached the small townhouse that was once housing her and her parents she went to the kitchen table and sat down. She lay the notebook in front of her and stared. Tears were in the edges of her eyes and the ones that were once on her face had tried, making her feel a but crusty.

She didn't want to believe it. But she opened the notebook and began reading.

'If anything were to happen to me, or both my husband and I​​, I would like to have it written in my own hand my last wishes. First if my husband were to live past my death he is to be in control of everything I had owned. He would make sure my parents, should they be alive past me, are taken care of properly. He will continue to look after our daughter till she reaches legal age. My daughter, Lindsey Marie Vindai, will have control of my clothing and jewelry.

Should my husband die with me, my darling daughter Lindsey Marie Vindai will receive all my husband and I have from the time of our death. If she wishes to sell our home, she should, if she wishes to take all the money and go shopping, she should. But if she is not yet of legal age Fabian and I have decided her to live with my parents, Wilson and Magaret Holling, in Gotham City. They are aware of this arrangement and have agreed, conceded with their signatures as witnesses to this Will and Testament.'

Lindsey stopped reading. Live with her mother's parents? The Hollings weren't her favorite people to get along with. They own a large mining company and have been getting paid a lot of money since they opened back when Lindsey's mother was young. She would much rather stay with her father's parents. But maybe moving across the Atlantic Ocean was not the best option for her. They were the sweetest old couple, they always sent her such cute things from Italy.

They didn't cost much, but she was okay with that.

But the Hollings expected her to be exactly like her mother who enjoyed the fine things in life when she was younger. But since her mother met her father it changed her. She didn't care about money since her father came from Italy with next to nothing. He was even sending money back to Italy for his parents.

The Hollings didn't like him at first but they soon realized her father was all their only daughter wanted. They didn't accept anything from the Hollings in their marriage. But her grandparents kept putting money into Lindsey's parents' bank account, even after they asked them to stop.

Now she would have to live with them.

She would have to move to Gotham.

Lindsey really needed to call her friends from school.

{}-{}-{}-{}-{}-{}

The boy - if you could call him that - stormed down the hallway of the overly large Wayne manor. The boy was over six feet and every inch of him was muscle. His green eyes were cold and at the moment, were holding righteous anger. His nearly black hair was much messier than how he usually had it. His fists were clenched tightly that his nails were digging into his palms.

"Master Damian is everything alright?" Alfred Pennyworth, the butler of the Wayne family asked as the 'boy' stormed past. Alfred was holding a basket of laundry that needed to be folded. He backed against the wall as the boy passed.

"Not now, Pennyworth," he growled as he entered the library. He went to the grandfather clock and pressed the button on the side to enter the Batcave. He stepped into the elevator with crossed arms. Once the doors slid open he stormed out.

The Batcave hadn't changed much from when he was younger. It still had the overly-large computer, and still had the Batvehicles on their platforms. The medical bay was still fully stocked. The only thing that's really changed are the costumes in their respective compartments. The past Robins gave their costumes to Bruce before going off on their own. And Damian's past costumes were all in one compartment. As he continued to grow, he has needed more suits.

They all had the same style, they just continued to be updated as his tastes changed. He still had the hood and katana, though. He wasn't going to give those up.

He occasionally goes crime fighting as Robin with Batman but not as much as he used to. He doesn't do big criminals, like Joker and Bane, anymore. He mostly goes on patrols and stops bank robbings and muggings.

"Father," Damian called out into the cave. He wanted to see if his Father would actually answer. And of course he didn't.

He walked further in and over to the computer, where he knew the old man would be. And there he was, sitting in the chair in front of the computer. He was looking up something on the computer about some new tech that The Riddler had tried to steal earlier that week.

He stopped behind his father's chair. He folded his hands together behind his back and stood up as straight as he could. "Father I must insist that you listen to me."

"What is it Damian?" Bruce asked not paying much attention to his only blood son.

"I'm asking that I not return to Gotham Academy and finishing my schooling, here in the Manor," Damian said. Or more demanded.

"Damian you cannot just isolate yourself and expect to turn out just fine. You need socialization, get to know other people-"

"Everyone at that school are closed-minded fools. They have lower levels of intelligence and some of them have none at all. I refuse to be seen around people beneath me."

"Damian you really have no choice. Your mother-"

"My mother wouldn't want me to lower myself."

"Your mother trusted me with choosing what is best for you."

"My mother is dead. It no longer matters what she would have wanted or not. Besides she only trusted you to know what was good for me, until she hypnotized you. She didn't care much for me after that."

"My decision is final, Damian. Next week you will continue your education at Gotham Academy. And I don't care if you like it not."

Damian growled and turned back to the elevator. He stormed through the mansion to his bedroom. The room had a queen sized bed and TV on the opposite wall. In the corner, next to a balcony, was a desk covered in drawings he has done, the ones he was most proud of were tacked to the wall. The only thing he truly liked about the room was the sword hanging on the wall next to the door. He threw himself in the bed with a groan. He threw an arm across his face to cover his eyes. He finally removed the arm and stared up at the ceiling in complete loathing.

He hated Gotham Academy. The only people there were nothing but rich kids who thought the world revolved around them, and then there were the nerds there on scholarships who 'need the perfect grade to stay in the best school'. There was nothing great about Gotham Academy, but it was prestigious and got you into better colleges.

Damian didn't care about college. He was going to be running his father's company, when the time came. Or when Bruce thought it would be good to step back and let his son run the operation. But until that time he still had to attend school. There was nothing good about his life.

All Damian wanted was something good to come to Gotham. Something that would finally interest him.