I will freely admit I'm a Marvel fan, not DC. Besides the occasional comic, I pretty much just stick to anything with Damian, otherwise just whatever catches my eye - which isn't a whole ton, though I've been checking out the New 52.

Basically, I might get some DC stuff wrong. If I do, lemme know, and I'll do my best to correct it.

Damian didn't like magic.

He knew it had its uses, and he managed when some ally foisted upon him utilized it, but that didn't mean it had to like magic. It was just so illogical; not like science, or detective work. Even the Lazarus Pits had a certain amount of chemistry to them.

But this – the magic with the runes and the circle and the chicken blood – whoever would lower themselves to this sort of magic deserved to be taken out of the gene pool. Especially this man – some C-Villain, screeching about summoning the God of Evil. He was a threat, sure enough (He'd managed to summon a skeletal army, using some ancient Greek artifacts, which Damian was currently slicing his way through while Batman went for the Warlock himself) but surely no one expected this to work. God of Evil? Really? What kind of idiocy-

And then there was a flash of blinding light, searing even through Damian's mask and eyelids. The warlock howled his victory, cut off abruptly when Batman knocked him out, using the distraction of the summoning. The skeletons crumbled to dust without their master to keep them, and in the clearing dust, Damian couldn't help thinking that he was right, that there was no great demonic monster here to destroy the world, that this idiotic summoning had failed and they hadn't needed to go to all this trouble after all.

Until he saw the boy.

Dressed all in green, with some sort of absurd headpiece – the entire ensemble was absurd, but the headpiece most of all – he sat in the centre of the circle, coughing up bone dust and looking very confused. And next to him, a very distressed magpie.

Loki didn't understand it. One moment, he'd been working on a spell – not even a big one, just something to make it so Fandral's sword would never grow dull – when there had been a flash, and a loud noise, and now he was somewhere he didn't recognize, coughing up dust. At first he had thought that perhaps Asgard had been attacked, and he'd fallen through the floor, but then he noticed the magic circle around him, not to mention the man dressed like a bat looming over him.

"Batman and Robin." Ikol said gruffly, flapping irritably as the dust settled on his feathers. "It has been some time."

Loki frowned – he didn't recognize either of those names, and he was fairly confident he had at least a rudimentary knowledge of all the heroes, in case the need ever arose for his brother to work with them.

The man – Batman – scowled at the bird, seemingly unsurprised he could talk.

"Who are you?" He practically growled. It wasn't a question so much as a demand. His eyes narrowed behind his cowl, and Loki very nearly quailed as he glared at the boy, before he remembered himself. He was a god of Asgard, son of Odin, brother to Thor, for Yggdrasil's sake! He would not quail before this man dressed as a bat.

Still, he hesitated. Outright stated his name could sometimes end... less than pleasantly, considering his previous self. So he stood up, dusted off his hose, his mind working furiously to come up with a name, a story – a lesser god? Or perhaps he should pass himself off as an alien? That might work, but then he would have to explain why he looked so human, though maybe he could say he was a skrull if he could get his shapeshifting to work but a skrull wasn't really any better-

"Loki." Croaked Ikol. "He is Loki."

"Ikol!" Loki hissed. Hateful bird!

He heard laughter – whipping his head around, he saw a boy – about his own age – he hadn't noticed before. Batman and Robin, Ikol had said. This must be he.

"Loki? The Norse god of mischief? You honestly expect us to believe that? You must be even more foolish than you look-"

"Robin." Batman said, firmly. The boy fell immediately silent and shrunk back, looking chagrined.

"The last time I met Loki," The man continued, "He was a fully grown man."

Loki shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. "Much has happened in recent days."

Batman's scowl deepened, if that was possible. "He's also a shapeshifter. So there's every possibility that you are Loki-"

"-I am."

"Trying to trick us with this pathetic charade."

Loki cringed. This wasn't going well. Usually, he at least had his brother to vouch for him, but here, it was just he and Ikol. And people assuming the worst, just as they always did.

Ikol cawed harshly, his voice echoing in the small room, "I assure you, Batman, there is nothing left of the Loki you knew in the boy. Furthermore," He flapped his way up some nearby boxes, none too gracefully, before finally managing to settle on Loki's shoulder, "It is hardly like he was behind this. This was clearly a botched job on your side which brought us here. Should not your concern be sending us home?"

There was a long pause, as the bird and the bat seemed to size each other up. Finally, Batman – grudgingly, and with a huff – said "Get in the car."

Damian couldn't believe it. They'd brought the boy – Loki, so he claimed – with them. Not to the batcave, thank God, but to one of the various safe houses they had littered throughout the city, while his father tried to find out how to get the boy home.

He'd mentioned meeting the boy before – as a fully grown man, which, though strange, was nothing unbelievable – but what rankled Damian was that he knew nothing of this. Surely encountering a Norse god was something worth warranting in his files, but once again, his father was keeping information from him. Once again, he wasn't telling him anything.

The questions burned on Damian's tongue, but by this point, he kenw nothing would come of asking them. Instead, he stewed in his seat – only children sulked – as the boy and his bird peppered the two with questions. How did this vehicle fly? Was it like or unlike Stark's own Quinjet? Would his Starkphone be able to access the wireless networks of this world? (At this point the boy had pulled out a fairly modern looking phone, not unlike the latest WayneTech model) Did Batman know his brother? Could he tell him about when they met?

All, of course, met with stoic silence.

Finally, they reached the building – the house itself a small two bedroom flat, not in the slums, but not high-end either – and landed on the roof.

Batman turned, handing Damian a card key. Damian's brow furrowed – why was he giving him this?

"You'll be staying with him."

End Chapter 1

Oh, what shenanigans will ensue!