It's a Twisted Story, Really
The loud screech of the tires brought his eyes to narrow and his shoulders to tense in the slightest cringe from the high pitched noise. Despite being used to the sound, somehow it seemed to be easier to deal with in person. Perhaps it was that it was not being directly broadcasted to his eardrum and threatening to split it in half. Of course, above anything else, he knew that Damian had done this on purpose. There was no room for doubt on the matter. In fact, he assumed the boy was at least somewhat disappointed that he couldn’t do more to add to that one “shot”.
But, surprise surprise. The kid seemed to be actually giving in, actually complying, actually somewhat willing (okay that was probably a huge stretch) to work with him. But no matter how he said it inside his head, it still didn’t make sense and was still absolutely baffling. He supposed he understood the logic in the matter that brought Damian to agree, but he had honestly expected him to fight tooth and nail to make sure they did not team up.
Nonetheless, it was a pleasant turn of event. Well, “pleasant” may have possibly been a stretch as well. The two of them would still be working together, and it would be in no way easy.
“En route.” He responded then, striding across the room in a rush to his own bike, pulling up the cowl and starting the engine. “Stand by.” With that final comment, he tore from the cave and met the streets of Gotham at high speeds. He would be at Damian’s location in a matter of minutes.
The police arrived in a flurry of squealing tires and strobing crimson lights. With or without his interference, they would plod through their usual routine of alerting citizens and setting up a perimeter. Damian needn't concern himself with speaking to them. He was Robin. No GCPD officer would entertain a moment's thought of hindering the Dark Knight's most celebrated protgée in action.
A perk inherited with the mantle.
Turning his back on the bustling cops, Damian shot a grapple and flung himself after the quivering line. He darted across roofs and hurdled balconies for the next several streets, surveying every direction with night vision goggles for any sign of their quarry.
A few minutes passed combing the streets in such a manner, before he paused to light his tracking beacon for Drake. If the aggressed sounds of his counterpart's engine had been any indication, he should be arriving very shortly.
An unexpected rush a adrenaline flooded his veins as a fleeing bulk a block away caught his attention. Wasting no time, Damian cleared the gap to the next building in an exuberant leap, and gave chase.
