Disclaimer: Me no own DC comics characters. Please no shoot me!

A kinda depressing yet thoughtful simulation I ran through this morning. Was going to have Tim and a Jason mention, but decided to leave it at this. Enjoy!

CPR2

Damian marched angrily back through the manor, barely managing to toss his cape in the correct bin just moments before. He couldn't believe this. Why did he…

"Master Damian," Alfred started, trying to ease the situation lightly, "this is hardly the way to gain what you wish."

"Then explain it to me!" the kid snapped back at him. "Why did Father send me back here? Patrol wasn't even finished and he just sends me here without any explanation!"

"Wazz goin' on?" Dick hobbled in on crutches from one of the opposing rooms. He recently broke his leg and was ordered home for his own safety. Not to mention he was on heavy pain killers to take care of his ribs. "Wha'd Bruce do?"

"Apparently he sent Young Master Damian home early."

Dick half rolled his eyes. Of course the kid would be mad. "Okay Dami. Wha'd you do?"

"NOTHING!" The positively irate ex-assassin shouted to high heaven and back in a childish attempt to convince them. Wasn't working so well but the kid was so upset he couldn't see it. "I was obeying orders perfectly! Even the ridiculous one to stay with that useless drugged child!"

"Drugged child?" The acrobat gave Alfred an inquiring look, wondering something.

"And he just tells me to go home and get some rest! No explanations! No exceptions!" He continued to rant, ignoring the two men's visual exchange. "Is Father losing his mind in his old age or just an idiot? He needs backup out there and you're certainly in no condition to assist him! I did nothing to deserve this!"

"Damian, just wha'd you see with this drugged kid?" Dick cocked his head, remembering something at the same time.

Damian gave the young man a hard glare. "Is he really that important?"

"Could be. Describe wha'd you saw."

The current Robin growled before looking at the ceiling in frustration. "He was just an intoxicated brat without a shirt we found in the perp's bedroom."

"How old was he?"

He looked away, trying to remember. "I didn't ask. But maybe my age at the most. Scrawny whelp."

"Any tattoos or pieces of jewelry on the kid?" Things were clicking in the guy's head, along with the butler's.

Damian closed his eyes to remember clearly. He didn't think the brat was important. But it was a common practice for Dick in the past to quiz him on things that happened on one of their old cases. It helped sometimes in the future. "Yeah. An earring with three red beads on it. Why?"

Complete realization hit the adults and they exchanged uneasy looks. "CPR2?"

"Likely," Alfred confirmed. "I sincerely doubt Master Bruce would change his habits in regards to that for his own son."

"Probably enforce it more." Concern and anger appeared on the young man's face, completely baffling the kid before them.

"I demand to know what you two are talking about." Damian crossed his arms in front of him, glaring death on both of them in an attempt to gain answers. All he received was more uneasy looks.

"Look Damian," Dick tried to explain, keeping his head as clear as possible, "there are certain cases Bruce never would let me work on when I was a kid. Wouldn't even talk about them. He'd send me home then work overtime to close that case. Same with Jay and Tim. I was fourteen before I even had a clue what those cases were. I bet you heard the line by now. 'There are just some cases I have to work on alone, and I can't ex-'"

"'Explain my actions even to you.' Yeah I heard it." He just heard it really. Growing up with assassins prepared the kid for anything, grotesque dead bodies being only an example of what he'd seen. "But what could possibly happen in Gotham I haven't seen before? What would he try to hide from me?"

The adults took deep sighs. How could they explain it? "Something every parent tries to hide from their child. Look Dami, it's not about trusting you or following orders. This time around, he just wants to protect you properly, make sure you aren't scarred for life. Well, further scarred."

"I've faced killers three times my size and won. What could he possibly feel he should protect me from?"

The two exchanged worried looks once again. They clearly didn't want to explain. "Something truly horrid Master Damian. Something even most criminals look down upon."

"Then I should—"

"No." Both their commands took the kid for a spin. Dick continued, trying to stop him. "The best thing you can do is stay home and get some rest. It'll ease Bruce's worries and—"

"So you're not going to tell me either!" Infuriated, Damian marched straight up to him. "Some help you are! Won't even tell me what the hell he's doing! I'm far better trained than any of you were when you started! In a fight I—"

"It's not always about fighting!" This was one thing they were trying very hard to teach the boy. Fighting crime didn't always involve fists. More often than not, it required one thing. Compassion. "This has nothing to do with fighting! The commissioner's the one who'll wrap it up and we'll hear all about it in the news later!"

This forced the kid to take a step back. They usually handled everything on their own. What would require Gordon to be so directly involved? Dick continued, his voice dropping to try and calm this situation. "The next few days may surprise you, but first thing you have to do is go to bed. Believe it or not, you just getting some sleep is going to help Bruce more than anything. He's going to be a little different the next couple of days, but just go with it okay? You may even enjoy it."

Damian continued to scowl at him, not happy with what explanation he did get. "But what—"

"Like I said before," the young man repeated, "I didn't know what was going on those times until I was fourteen. When Bruce feels comfortable talking to you about it, he will. Until then, just trust that he has your best interests in mind. Okay?"

The kid's glare softened slightly, showing confusion more and more by the second. Eventually he nodded, backing away though still angry. "I better get my explanation soon."

"Good night." As soon as Damian was gone, Dick looked back to Alfred. "When's the earliest you've heard of someone getting 'the talk'?"

The butler gave a heavy sigh. "I dare say earlier than I'd approve, but I sincerely doubt Master Bruce will be ready to try giving it again until his son is thirteen at the earliest. May not even need it. Who knows what he was taught while with his mother."

Bruce leaned against the doorway he was standing in, watching his son sleep somewhat peacefully. It was comforting to see him in this state, safe and at ease in his own home. Not all children had that luxury, especially not the ones he saw earlier that night.

"CPR2?" Dick whispered nearby.

The older man nodded, some pain entering his eyes. "Thirty-seven. Ages ranging from six to fifteen. Some part of it all their lives. Three kidnappings, mostly runaways. Found about a dozen bodies in one of the rooms. Two of the girls were pregnant. More young boys than…"

He closed his eyes at the memory of the place. Sick people ran sick circuits and profited off of it. And every time he found and busted one up, he saw every child he knew among their numbers. How close was Jason to being forced into one of those rings? Thieving crews were preferable in compare. How could he allow one of these… things… to ever exist in Gotham? Every time…

Eyes filled with worry rested on his sleeping boy once again. Though Damian didn't understand or know why he was sent home, he would understand one day. When he was ready hopefully. Learning about child prostitution rings first hand was one thing Bruce was hoping to avoid for the boy. He deserved some semblance of a good childhood, not one entirely shadowed by the evils of man. And this surely would have hurt the boy deeply, no matter what he faced in the past with Talia. It's hard for anyone to not identify with these children, not to horrified by the sight.

Dick placed a hand on the large man's shoulder, trying to comfort him. "It'll be alright. You saved them now and their pimp's gone for good. Dami doesn't know. You still get the pleasure of explaining things to him later."

Bruce snorted softly. "Thanks."

He kept his soft gaze on his son, trying to gain relief that his temporary hallucination of seeing his face among the others was merely an illusion. Damian was safe. And he was going to keep it that way.

END

A/N: CPR2 is their code phrase for Child Prostitution Ring. The 2 keeps it away from the traditional CPR. I was just thinking earlier of what would make Bruce send Dami home and I thought of this. I was gonna have Tim come in and join the convo, going above Dami's head for a while and asking if Jason knew or not. I imagine Jay would just come in and shoot the kids' pimp. But I couldn't think of why Tim would be there. Plus I wanted to keep this a one shot.

Someone's been watching way too much Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. *looks away*

Hope you enjoyed it!