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Chapter Text

“We are certain about this? There can be no mistakes made in this endeavour.”

 “We are certain.”

“We were to believe that the Atlantean led the children.”

“That is truth, but also temporary.”

“Temporary?”

“Yes. Another is being groomed for the task.”

“The youngest of them.”

“We believe so. He is apprentice to the leader of the Justice League.”

“The Batman.”

“Yes.”

...

“Collect him.”

*LINCHPIN*

The shrill clang of the bell signalled the end of the last period of the morning and before the reverberating sound diminished most of Gotham City Academy AP Calculus class had already gathered their things and was heading for the door.

“Tomorrow,” Ms Reckolson’s voice called over the sudden rise in student conversation, “we continue our practical applications of the extreme  value theorem so I want you to have the next two chapters in your Differential Calculus Texts read and the practice equations at the end of the chapter calculated and graphed before you step food in this classroom.  Mr Grayson, this also means just the next two chapters, please do not finish the book like you did last term.”

Richard Grayson, adopted son of Gotham billionaire Bruce Wayne, slid his textbook into his sling-pack and allowed a wry grin to tug at his lips. “Sorry Ms Reckolson, I finished last weekend. It was a quiet Friday Night.”

He exited the class as the instructor sighed and shook her head, and the remaining students’ explosion of laugher echoed into the hall.  As the only seventh grader in a room of twenty upper classmen, seniors mostly, Dick was use to their teasing and amusement at his expense. He was also use to them approaching him when they needed help. Most people, teachers and administration included, felt his class attendance a mere formality.

Ah, the joys of being a genius.

The swell of students heading for the cafeteria and lunchroom would have swept up any other student, especially one of Dick’s small stature. Dick, however, was most definitely not just any other student. With the agility of a boy raised amongst agile circus folk, a skill trained to near perfection by Gotham City’s own Dark Knight, he wove his way through the throng of bodies until he was standing in front of his locker in the Junior High Grades’ hall.

“Dude!” a voice all but shouted as a body slammed into the wall of lockers next to him. “You totally missed a humiliation of epic proportion in Life Studies this morning. They will be talking about this for weeks! Months! Decades even!”

Suppressing a sigh of annoyance, Dick pulled the door of the locker open which gave him a barrier from the ramblings of his ‘best friend’. Hamilton Hill III was the son of the current mayor of Gotham City, and had latched on to Bruce Wayne’s ward after meeting at a fund raiser a couple years back. Despite the barely veiled feelings of loathing Dick held for the teen, the other boy just couldn’t take the hint.

“You going to tell me what happened, or just keep me in suspense for the rest of my life?” Dick asked in a bored tone. He slid his pack from his shoulder and hung it on the hook inside before removing his school blazer and hanging it as well.

“I don’t know, man,” Hamilton said with an oily chuckle. “I’m not sure us plebeians are up to the standards of one as high and mighty as you.”

“So nothing happened, again, and you’re just ragging on me again for my placement with the upper classmen.” Dick reached to the shelf and retrieved his Blackberry and Bluetooth earpiece. “We do this every Thursday. Can’t you think of something original for once?”

“Hey Grayson.”

A smile found its way back to his lips as he turned his head to the side to acknowledge the new greeting. “Hey Crock.”

The lithe blonde freshman returned the smile as she continued on with her friends.  Dick entertained the brief thought of what her reaction would be if she knew the truth of who he was.

 “So not fair, Dude!” Hamilton moaned as Dick let the phone fall into the back pocket of his slacks and he clipped the earpiece over his lobe. “How is it, that one as popularity challenged as you knows all the hot chicks?! You have seriously got to introduce me to the new transfer!”

“Hamilton,” Dick nearly growled as he closed the door to his locker and finally allowed his steel blue gaze fall onto the other boy. “Give it a rest, okay? I met Artemis at the Alumni banquet hosted by the Wayne Enterprises’ Foundation for Academic Excellence last month. She’s one of the ten Scholarship awardees that accepted the placement here at the Academy. We say hi to each other as a social nicety. That’s it.”

Hamilton snorted. “Yeah, right.”

There was no withholding the annoyed sigh this time. “Whatever. I need to get to the courtyard before Alfred calls to check in.” The central area of the Academy, a large outdoor area for the students to congregate was the only location cell phones and laptops were permitted. “Bruce won’t get me a replacement if I get another phone confiscated this year.”

“The old man still makes you do that?” The boys were some of the last to finally make their way out of the hall.

“Three time a day.” Even Dick had to admit to the ludicrous notion that anything would happen while at the school. As the daytime home to the children of the Gotham elite, security was tighter than Fort Knox. But in the pursuit of keeping their secret identities just that, Batman and Robin agreed the pretence of a paranoid guardian was just another necessity.

“Seriously, Dude,” Hamilton griped as they separated at the doors to the cafeteria, “Wayne needs to lighten up a little! Let you breathe!”

Grateful for the silence that descended with the departure of his “friend” Dick made his way out to the courtyard and took his normal spot on the stone bench partially hidden within the drooping branches of the large willow tree. No sooner had he sat, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, his phone chirped alerting him to an incoming call.

“Afternoon Master Richard,” the jovial British accent of Alfred chimed in his ear when he answered.

“Hey Al.”

“Master Bruce wished me to remind you that you will not be going to Rhode Island this weekend and to pack your things this evening.”

“The conference in Budapest? I thought that was next week and Bruce was going by himself?”

“It is, and he is, but you and he will be leaving directly after school lets out tomorrow for the Wayne Enterprises plant inspection in-“

“Dubai,” Dick groaned an pinched the bridge of his nose. “Crap, I totally forgot. Kaldur and I were planning on working on tactics this weekend.”

“You will need to inform him of the oversight, Master Richard.”

“Yeah, I’ll pop over to the Cave after patrol tonight. Maybe we can work it into next week’s schedule before he-.”

The sudden silencing of the din of conversations around him drew his attention to the courtyard. He swore under his breath as he slowly got to his feet as a trio of masked and armed men exited the school.  “Change of plans, Alfred,” he hissed, barely moving his lips as the eyes beneath an all too familiar mask scanned to students.

“Master Richard?”

“Get Batman.” Dick flicked the Bluetooth from his ear and let it fall into the grass beside the phone he slipped from his pocket, using the tip of his shoe to push both beneath the bench. Only a few seconds later one of the gunmen stepped into the shade of the tree and pulled him into the open with the others.

“Everyone on your knees,” Sportsmaster snapped the order. “Heads bowed, hands on your head, wrists crossed.”

It was an awkward position, but none of the teens hesitated to comply with the mercenary.

The girl to his right was shaking visibly and the guy to his left was muttering under his breath. It took Dick a moment to decipher it. “We’re gonna die…we’re gonna die… we’re gonna die…”

Sportsmaster shouldered the assault riffle he carried casually, walking up the row of students as the other two men lifted the heads of the male students.

They’re looking for someone…

The gunmen reached the boy next to Dick – a sophomore he shared Algebra with – and the strong smell of ammonia assaulted his nose. He couldn’t fault the guy. If he had been a typical thirteen year old Dick probably would have pissed himself too.

But it had already been established that he was not a typical thirteen year old.

A leathered hand painfully gripped his wrists, gloved knuckles digging into his scalp as the fingers encompassed both his wrists and much of his hair at the same time. He allowed a yelp of pain to pass his lips as his head was yanked back and brought a flash of fear into his eyes.

The mercenary stared at him, and although he couldn’t see the man’s face, Dick could tell by the look in Sportsmaster’s eyes that he had found who they were looking for.

There was no faking the quickening of his heart when Sportsmaster leaned over and the hard mask brushed against the side of Dick’s face. The hissed words were barely heard, and Dick doubted anyone but he heard the words that froze the blood in his veins.

“Hello, Robin.”

*LINCHPIN*

Artemis Crock sat, bored, her elbows on the table between her and her new friends. The girls were what one would expect to find in the freshman class of any high school: gossipy, narcissistic, and incredibly shallow. No different than the girls at her old school, Gotham North, but at least she’d had a few years to get use to them. These girls… their current choice of conversation was making her wish she could stun them with one of the new arrows Green Arrow was designing for her. Or at the very least, smack them upside the head.

“It’s a shame he’s so young,” Mari, the ‘leader’ of the clique, sighed as she opened the bento box in front of her with her perfectly manicured hands. “And sooo skinny! Why do you bother even talking to him, Artemis?”

Repressing an annoyed sigh of her own, the blonde resisted the urge to strangle the debutante. “Dick’s a nice enough kid.”

“And there’s no denying he’s going to be a hotty when he grows up,” one of the others chimed in. “I mean, seriously, have you seen him in the gym? He may only be a seventher, but he’s got some meat on those arms. And those eyes!”

“Not to mention those billions! When Wayne kicked it, he gets it all.” Mari smirked, a less than flattering dreamy expression on her face. “That definitely makes up for any deficiencies he has.”

Artemis felt nauseous. If they thought Bruce Wayne was going to let his kid have anything to do with gold diggers like them, they were in for a very rude awakening. She’d enjoy seeing that. She snorted, a sound she was unable to cover, and the girls at the table with her looked her way. Instead of answering their questioning glances, she rose from her seat and slung her back pack over one shoulder. “I’ll see you in class. I need to double check my English paper before I hand it in.”

“You study too hard, Artemis.” A petite redhead informed her with a nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Some of us have a scholarship to maintain.”  She started for the cafeteria doors without another word, or a thought of what her ‘friends’ would think. No doubt they were already gossiping about the ‘charity case’ they were allowing in their midst’s. Girls like them didn’t hang with girls like her.

The halls were surprisingly quiet when she stepped out of the mild roar of nose from inside the lunch room, but she welcomed it. Silence allowed her to think about things.

Like why she found it necessary to say hi to a kid two years younger than her when she had only actually met him that one time. She hadn’t lied when she told the others that he was nice. He really was. He’d gone out of his way at the dinner to talk to each of the Scholarship awardees, telling them about Gotham City Academy. She had expected him to be just another rich jackass, but Dick Grayson was anything but.

Definitely not your typical rich kid.

A faint series of beeps sounded over the PA suddenly and her heart leapt into her throat as she noticed the open doors around her swing shut on their own and the automatic locking mechanisms engaged. She remembered what this meant from her orientation. Something was happening that was putting the school into lockdown.

And she was one of the few students in the hall and in the open!

Artemis threw herself into the doorway of one of the closed doors, curling herself into a ball as they had been instructed. She noticed what few teenagers in the hall doing the same. For what seemed like an eternity, nothing happened and she felt herself wondering if maybe this was just a drill.

That was until she heard the gunshots coming from the courtyard and saw the doors forced open from the blast.

It was hard to fight her gut instinct to jump at the masked gunman when he stepped into the hall. Even more so when the second came out. But as she tensed to jump them as they drew nearer, her body froze when the third gunman entered the hall, gloved hand viciously clutching the arm of a student.

The dark haired boy was fighting against the grip on his upper arm, a task made difficult as it appeared his hands were secured behind his back with some form of restraints. But it was the familiarity of the third man’s mask that made her heart all but stop.

“Daddy…?”

In the terribly quiet of the hall, her breathless exclamation was still loud enough to be heard.

Sportsmaster paused, the eyes beneath the mask – eyes nearly identical to her own – roaming the hall until they landed on her.

“Now this is a surprise,” the mercenary growled.

His hostage stilled momentarily in his struggles and Artemis saw who it was for the first time.

Grayson!

Before she realized what she was doing, Artemis was on her feet and standing between the gunmen and the school’s exit. “Let him go!”

“Crock, no!” Dick shook his head.

The blonde watched as the boy was shoved into the arms of one of the others, and she was able to see the wire that was coiled around his wrists. Her stomach dropped when she noticed the faint traces of crimson already staining his bindings.

Heavy booted steps drew her attention back to the man approaching her as he drew to a stop only inches from her.

“What are you doing here?” The man snarled.

She swallowed the lump of fear in her throat and forced herself to look at Sportsmaster. “I – I go here. Now. Scholarship.” When he didn’t comment, she whispered. “Let him go, Daddy. Please.”

The humorous glint in his eyes answered for him.

“Get away from her!”

The shout was followed by a grunt of pain and a moment later the once captive was barely into Sportsmaster and knocking him away from his daughter. Artemis was moving again before she realized it, intending to pull Dick back from the mercenary, when the butt of a riffle was driven painfully into her solar plexus.

Air was expelled from her lungs explosively, doubling her over before he knees buckled and sent her to the tiled floor. As she gasped to regain her breath she could hear the scuffle off to the side, a striking of leather against flesh, and a groan. A moment later a shadow fell over her and she looked up at Sportsmaster.

Father and daughter stared at one another, but in the background she could see the two other gunmen dragging a limp Dick Grayson between them toward the door.

“Disappointing.”

She cringed and cried out as a heavily booted foot stuck hard into her abdomen. It was not the first time Lawrence Crock had hit her, but it had been a while and it still brought tears to the corner of her eyes.  The shadow moved on, leaving her whimpering on the hall floor.

“Artemis!” Something had changed in Dick’s voice and Artemis snapped her head to the side at the familiarity of the tone. He was fighting again, his dark blue eyes boring into hers with an intensity she had never seen before, and yet knew all to well. “Artemis, tell Bruce – tell my father – ‘broken wing’! Tell him!”

And then he was gone.

Whispers broke out around her, reminding her that she was not alone in the hall. She felt the moisture from her eyes tickle down her temples and to the floor. A hand on her shoulder caused her to flinch but she did not turn to look at the student that now knelt beside her. A spot of blood on the tiles, only a few inches away from her face, kept her attention. It was followed closely by a second drop, and then a third, several more staining the floor in the direction of the door.

“Are you okay?” The boy, a freshman she shared a couple classes with, was the only one that had moved.

She clenched her eyes shut, her body trembling in shock, and shook her head.

She was so far from being okay.

Chapter Text

A helicopter…?

Not a van, not an armoured truck, but a bloody helicopter!

The aircraft was waiting for Sportsmaster and his captive in the parking lot. Dick was surprised he hadn’t heard the machine’s approach, but he had no time to dwell on the matter as he was lifted inside and the door slid shut behind them.

The mercenary and his men were taking no chances with him. While one goon climbed into the pilot’s chair, Dick was dumped onto the floor in the back and with a nudge to his ribs Sportsmaster flipped him onto his stomach and stepped heavily on his lower back. Unable to do more than struggle futilely, in a matter of seconds the same piano wire they’d used on his wrists was wound around his ankles.

It was only when the machine lurched to the side, as his knees were forced to bed upward and another length of wiring as stretched between his wrists and ankles, that he realized they were airborne.

“Stealth? Seriously?” Dick twisted his head to glare at Sportsmaster, who now sat comfortably in a plush seat situated behind the pilot.  “I’m flattered but a little overkill for a kid, don’t you think?”

The man actually chuckled. “You are much more than a ‘kid’, Robin.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?” He didn’t know why he was pretending to the contrary, it was obvious the mercenary knew exactly who he was. “If you’re going to kidnap someone, you should really get the names straight.”

“Deny it all you like, boy,” Sportsmaster motioned to the remaining thug and he moved to the second seat in the cockpit, leaving abducted and abductor alone. “I have spent many weeks investigating both you and Gotham City’s Boy Wonder. I found the coincidences many, and in truth it was quite simple once I thought about it.”

“You actually think I’m Robin?!”

“There was the agility and acrobatic ability of Robin,” the man continued as though he hadn’t been interrupted, “several videos capturing some spectacular aerial manoeuvres; every movement a testament to an unlikely training.  Question was what? Perhaps it was a specialized, intense gymnastic regime? But your obvious youth, and gender, eliminated any of the known gymnastic protégés within Gotham, as well as the across the country.”

“I’m a brain, not an athlete,” Dick grumbled, really not liking where he was going with his commentary.

“I was actually at a stand still in my investigation, your tracks were covered quite brilliantly actually, but then I saw this.”

It was then that Dick noticed the miniature remote in Sportsmaster’s gloved hand and that it was now pointed at a small screen on the back wall of the aircraft. A video started playing, grainy and unmistakably captured at night and from a distance, but even so it was possible to make out the image of Batman and Robin fighting with several men on the roof of one of the many high-rises in the city.

Only a few seconds into the video and Dick remembered the incident. It was from last year, the last time Ra's al Ghul had come to Gotham City with the intent of recruiting – or killing – Batman. A lead weight twisted his stomach as he knew what was coming next. He wasn’t surprised when the Robin on the screen was suddenly picked up by one of the larger assassins and thrown from the roof.

As the Boy Wonder tumbled, he twisted and spun, contorting his body. His utility belt had been taken from him at some point in the fight and, with only a birdarang in hand, he was helpless to stop his plunge to certain death. Until he noticed the rapid approach of a window washing scaffolding and once again twisted in the air until he was falling head first in a dive. The angle of his body brought him closer to the cables holding the scaffold aloft, and once he was within reach he had lunged out his hand. While his fingers wrapped around the cable, the birdarang in the other sliced through the thick cable. It jerked violently - and Dick could well remember the pain as his shoulder had been dislocated – but it was able to change his trajectory enough that when he released the cord he was now falling feet first and toward the swinging scaffold. His uninjured hand grabbed the railing and used his momentum to swing upward and twist in the air to land on his feet on part of the scaffold still connected to the second cable.

The screen blacked off and Sportsmaster started speaking again. “I was stunned the first time I watched that, I will admit. One would have thought it impossible for a falling body to move in such a fashion, so controlled and able to prevent what should have been imminent death. And yet, it was vaguely familiar. No gymnast I know of could have performed such a daring act. There was only one place on earth I had ever seen anything remotely similar.”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he stared down his helpless captive. “Haley’s Circus use to come through Gotham several times a year. The biggest draw was the family of acrobats, the Flying Graysons. A mother, father and son trio that would perform death defying acts on the trapeze without any nets or safety gear, twice nightly and three matinees on the weekends. Watching them in the air was like watching them tease death.”

The pain lanced through Dick’s heart and he turned his head away from the penetrating gaze of the mercenary. Even four years later the loss of his parents tore his soul to pieces.   

Inhaling deeply through his nose, refusing to let the memories or the man’s words release the tears forming beneath his lids, Dick let the anger at Tony Zucco surge to the surface finally turned his head back to glare at Sportsmaster. “So, what, you think just because I belonged to a circus once upon a time that means I put on tights and swing around the city with the big bad bat?”

“Oh, that’s not the only reason.” The masked man leaned back in his seat shrugged. “But it led to a number of curious findings. The adoption of billionaire Bruce Wayne, the sudden appearance of Batman’s crimson and gold sidekick, the subsequent death of the man responsible for the Grayson’s murders-”

“I didn’t kill him!” Robin shouted before he realized the words had left his mouth. It was a sore spot for the boy hero. He and Batman had engineered Zucco’s arrest, but while awaiting the trial the mob boss was executed in a holding cell. Dick had felt closure with the man’s death, but the darkest part of his heart was furious he wasn’t the one to do it.

Seeing the satisfaction in Sportsmaster’s eyes, Robin groaned as he realized he had just confirmed the mercenary’s findings. The teen turned away from the gloating villain.

 “I found myself wondering what possesses a father to allow his son to participate in such an extra curricular activity. But after having encountered you on Santa Prisca, and studying you as I have, I realized you would never have given him a choice. Still, you are an enigma, boy.”

The captive Robin sighed. “No, that would be the Riddler.”

Sportsmaster knew Dick Grayson and Robin were one and the same; there was no longer any point in denying it. That meant whoever hired the mercenary also held that information. Robin knew what that meant for him, bit what about Batman?

Or more importantly, what did that mean for Bruce Wayne?

*LINCHPIN*

Most of the students had been picked up by their parents by the time the EMT let the police approach her. Artemis had tried to tell them she was fine – really, a kick to the stomach was the least of what that man had ever done to her - but adults never listen to kids about that kind of stuff. Even after being given the all clear, she was kept on the gurney inside the ambulance while she was interviewed

After retelling her version of events to a half dozen different cops, agents, and investigators, and in the middle of number seven, she heard furious shouting coming from the steps of the Academy. The dark haired, impeccably dressed man was right in the face of the Headmaster.

“He was supposed to be safe!” The man – Artemis recognized him as Bruce Wayne now – was waving his arms around as he yelled. “I pay thousands and donate even more to ensure that these kids, especially my son, are kept safe! Not only was one girl hurt, but you’re telling me they you just let them waltz out of here with my son?!”

The overweight detective interviewing her noticed her distraction and stepped in front of her, his great mass blocking the irate father from her vision. “Miss Crock, we’re just about done here. I promise this is the last time.”

 “Right,” Artemis sighed. Dick’s desperate words to her echoed in her head and she desperately wanted to speak with Mr Wayne before he left. “What was the question again?”

“Why did you step in front of the gunmen? School procedures are for students to not engage-”

“Look,” she snarled in frustration, “they were kidnapping a student, a kid I know and I was not raised to just cower off to the side like some little girl!”

“But you are a little girl,” the detective said condescendingly. “What could you have done?”

“What I did! I tried to stop them, I slowed them down!”

“But it wasn’t your responsibility.”

“Well someone had to do something,” Artemis snapped. “Its not like school security is up to snuff if three thugs can just walk in off the street and kidnap one of Gotham’s richest kid! If they weren’t protecting their own asses behind safety glass and locked doors then maybe we wouldn’t be having this discussion. Again!”

“And if they had killed you or the kid-”

“Richard,” the girl snarled. “His name is Richard Grayson. And so what if they had killed me. At least I did something! It’s no wonder this city needs people like Batman and Robin to save the day. The police in this town are a joke!”

“Now listen here-”

“You’re excused, Detective Bullock.”

Commissioner Jim Gordon stepped around the bulk of the man, staring down the Detective until Bullock growled and walked away.

The grey haired, older man smiled at Artemis and held his hand out to her. “Thank you for your patience, Miss Crock. There’s a car waiting to take you home. We’ve already informed your mother you’re on your way.”

She accepted the offered hand and climbed out of the ambulance. “Thank you, sir. Do you,” Artemis paused, chewing on her lower lips as she quickly took in the remaining crowd of people. Bruce Wayne wasn’t there. She sighed, dejected. “Do you know if anyone told Mr Wayne what I - I mean, what Dick told me to tell his dad?”

The commissioner seemed to understand and smiled kindly. “He’s been told. Now, let’s get you home.”

She just nodded and let herself be led toward the black town car waiting.

Her mind raced through different scenarios, wondering what she could have done differently. Despite being smarted than anyone she’d ever met, Dick Grayson was still just a kid. Two years younger than her, he was going to be terrified. She knew she would be in his situation. Hell, she was from just the couple of minutes she had faced Sportsmaster in the hall. And she knew who he was! Of course that just made him all the scarier.

But Dick surprised her. Most kid would have just gone along with their kidnappers. But he didn’t. He fought with them, tried to help her even when his predicament was so much worse. And then just before he was taken, the way he changed. It was eerie how familiar it was.

The look in his eyes, she had seen it before. And that tone of voice. Green arrow had the look and the tone. So did Superman, Batman, hell even Kaldur when he got his head on a mission was known to be that intense. But there’s no way that Dick Grayson… He wasn’t… Artemis couldn’t think of anyone part of the League would have anything to do with a spoiled rich kid!

“We’ve located the Shadow’s next target: STAR Labs. We’re too late. It’s destroyed, totally destroyed. The fog decimated it! This is bad! STAR Labs is cutting edge science and now their secrets are in the hands of the enemy.”⁽¹⁾

No way! No! Way! It was so not possible!

Artemis and Robin may not have had much interaction outside Mount Justice but she’d recognize a team-mate in civvies, wouldn’t she? Then again, Robin was the only one whose civilian identity was classified. None of the others knew anything about him. Not even Wally and Kaldur and the three of them had been friends for years!

Her police escort opened the sedan’s back door and handed Artemis her backpack, allowing the girl to climb in.

“Miss Crock-”

While a startled squeak she jumped in the leather seat and backed up against the now closed door. In the glow from the overhead light she saw the man she had been eager to speak with sitting on the leather seat and watching her intently.

“M-Mr Wayne, Sir!” Holy crap was she nervous all of a sudden. She could stand in the same room and the most intimidation Heroes in the world and not bat an eye, and yet the way this man was looking at her was seriously unnerving.

“I wanted to speak with you, Miss Crock,” he began almost hesitantly; which was weird him being who he was.  “About what happened?”

“I, uh, though the police would have told you everything.”

The father nodded. “Yes, Jim and I are well acquainted, but I would like to hear it directly from you. I would, of course, drive you home while we spoke. Is that’s all right?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure, I guess.”

“Alfred.”

Hearing the engine purr to life alerted Artemis to the presence of the older man in the driver’s seat.  “Twenty minutes until arrival, sir.

The vehicle pulled out of the parking lot, near blinding flashes of light from media cameras muted by the dark tinting of the windows heralding their departure. Mr Wayne seemed unfazed by it all, and Artemis suddenly realized she wasn’t riding with Bruce Wayne: Billionaire but Bruce Wayne: Scared-father-of-a-kidnapped-child.  She could talk with him.

Feeling surer of herself, she settled back in the bench and angled her body so she was facing him. “What would you like to know, Mr Wayne?”

“Dick gave you the message,” Bruce wasted no time getting to the heart of the matter.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “He wanted me to tell you ‘broken wing’.”

“You’re certain that’s what he said?”

“Absolutely,” She said. “It was strange, actually. I mean, I hadn’t really talked to him much, but he was different.”

“Scared?”

She shook her head, her gaze relaxing from the man’s face to watch the blur of the city pass by the window behind him. “No. No, he wasn’t scared. Which isn’t right, now is it? He’s a kid; he was being kidnapped; hurt-”

“Hurt?!”

Artemis gulped as Mr Wayne’s mostly relaxed posture tensed suddenly and a shadow seemed to fill his eyes. She was now very nervous again. “Um, yeah. I- I noticed they had his hands tied together with some kind of wire. I think it cut into his wrists during his struggles. There was some blood…”

Bruce Wayne clenched a fist so tight his knuckles were white in a matter of seconds and his hand had begun to shake with the muscle tension. She watched him closely, taking in ever aspect of his face and body language. Although outwardly there were no real changes, the tightening of the jaw muscles and the hardening of his stare the obvious ones, it was like Artemis was suddenly sitting with another person all together.

And it was all starting to make a strange sort of sense.

“Mr Wayne,” she whispered, almost afraid to break the silence of the vehicle interior, “What does ‘broken wing’ mean?” When he didn’t answer, didn’t even acknowledge he had heard her, she opened a hidden pocket on her backpack and pulled out a green polyurethane mask. 

The flash of color caught his attention. “What-”

“Hey driver,” she said as she slipped the mask over her head and adjusted her long ponytail, “pull into the alley behind my apartment complex, will ya?”

“Certainly, Miss.”

Artemis, protégé to Green Arrow, turned a hard stare to the man sitting beside her. “Mr Wayne,” she took a deep breath and prayed to any god listening that she was right, “Batman, you are going to need help getting him back from - from my father. I suggest we start with the guys at Mount Justice.”

A ripple of pride filled her chest at the stunned expression on Batman’s face, giving her the courage to continue.

“What does ‘broken wing’ mean?”

She was momentarily afraid he wouldn’t answer her, but the shock was quickly replaced with determination and the voice that answered was one she had head dozens of times in the last six months. “It’s a code,” Batman replied as he leaned forward and opened a hidden compartment in the floor by his feet. From inside the famous cowl was retrieved. “It means Robin’s identity has been compromised.” The mask was slipped over his head and with a touch to a camouflaged panel on the roof a partition fell between to two heroes, allowing them to don the rest of their costumes.

Artemis had been afraid of that. “Then it was Robin that was abducted by Sportsmaster, not Dick Grayson. That means that not only has Robin been exposed but-”

“So has Batman.”

Chapter Text

“... it on the spill, turn it over without putting any pressure, 50% of the cola – right there! You following me camera guy...”

“...so happens that Deena defies the laws of intelligence. I never thought someone would make Snooki look like a rocket...”

“... doing what you are doing today because you want to do it or because it’s what you were doing yesterday...”

From where he stood next to the kitchen island, Wally West watched the dark haired clone sitting on the leather sofa flipping through the channels. Behind him, and mumbling to herself, M’gann went about the kitchen gathering one item or another in her attempts to master human cooking. Kaldur, also known as Aqualad and their teams exalted leader, was somewhere outside on the beach going to a swim in the big blue. Like the Atlantean did every night. All in all, it was turning out to be a typical Thursday night inside The Cave.

“... married tomorrow and so help me God if I catch you even so much as breathing the same air as her I will take those peanuts you're trying to pass off as testicles and I will squeeze them so hard until your eyes pop out and then I'll...”

“... Academy, where thirteen year old student Richard Grayson was abducted by three masked and armed gunmen. Several students witnessed the horrifying event while school security was...”

“No, go back!” Wally shouted when Superboy changed the channel again. He rushed forward, hands resting on the back of the couch to the side of the young hero. “Back! Go back!”

Superboy looked up at the panicked expression on his team mate’s face and flicked the station back without question.

A boy in his early teens stands in front of a microphone, eyes flicking between the reported of screen and the camera. “I was in the hall grabbing some books from my locker when the alarm sounded. Scared the *beep* out of my, man. I’d only ever heard it during drills before, but we’d had one just a couple of weeks ago so I knew it was the real thing. Something *beep* upped was going on! Me and my buds did what we’re told do, the whole duck and cover shtick. Try to, ya know, NOT make yourself a *bleep* target.”

The screen changes to another student, a young woman looking to be a senior and shaking in the arms of her parents. “I always sit in the quad – the large garden that’s in the center of the school. Its quiet there, and with the snow melted now it’s nice to get outside sometimes. I just – I don’t know if I’ll be able to go back out there again after...” she shakes her head and the image changes again.

“What’s going on?” M’gann floated up beside Wally and sat on the back of the cough, her feet dangling over the edge beside Superboy.

“I don’t know,” the clone answered with a shrug, still watching the young speedster from the corner of his eyes.

“Megan, get Kaldur,” Wally hissed, never looking away from the television.

The Martian looked between to two boys beside her before reaching out with her telepathy and calling their team leader back inside the mountain.

“He’s in my advanced placement math class,” a blond boy, standing with a group of other students, was now talking to the reporter, “a real genius, you know. Dick’s pretty cool, for not even a freshy. I didn’t really talk to him much outside of class, but he was always ready to help me if I needed help understand the assignments and stuff. He’s really quiet though, kept to himself mostly. Not a lot of friends that I knew of, except if you counted that ass Hamilton – and I don’t think Dick did, not really. But yeah, he’s in the quad every day at lunch. I hear his old man has him check in all the time. I guess I can see why now. I mean, those guys were checking out the guys in the quad; none of the girls. After the one stared at you for a second or two he moved on to the next. Scared the *beep* out of me!”

Another boy speaks up. “The big guy, he looked at the Grayson kid the longest. Like he was studying him or something. Then he just leaned over, whispered something to the kid, and next thing I know the little dude’s fighting the bastard! Even with the douchebag behind him holding on to his wrists and hair, he got in some decent hits before the third guy got in on it and took him down. Tied the poor kid up and then they were just out of there, taking him with them.”

“And none of you tried to stop it?” the reported asks

All of the frowns deepen and some of the students turn away. The blond begins speaking again, his voice quiet and shaking. “It’s not like we didn’t want to, it’s just... you don’t know, man, what it was like to be kneeling there and thinking that if you weren’t the one they were looking for you’d be getting a bullet to the brain. I mean, we’d been lined up that the pictures we’ve seen in World History, you know, the ones showing people about to be executed. That’s what it felt like. That we were all about to die.”

One of the girls took up the interview. “I don’t care what everyone thinks, but what were we suppose to do? These guys came in, lined us up, and took what they wanted with military precision. No offense to Dick, and I’m sorry his foster dad is going through this, but I wasn’t going to get myself killed trying to stop them. I’m not that stupid, not like that new transfer student.”

“What is happening?” Aqualad asked as he joined them in the recroom, a towel draped around his shoulders.

“Yeah,” the obese detective in the clichéd trench coat and fedora smirked at the reported off camera. “A little girl was hurt when she decided to play superhero and tried to stop the-”

Recognize: Flash, 0-4; Superman, 0-1; Green Arrow, 0-8

Wally was out of the room in a heartbeat, leaving the three Young Justice members to stare at one another in confusion. Superboy turned off the TV and the trio followed the redheaded speedster to the Zeta Beam.

“-I told?!” Kid flash was standing toe to toe with his mentor, his voice echoing throughout The Cave. “I’m his best friend! I had a right to know!”

“Wally, calm down!” Barry Allen placed both hands on either of the boy’s shoulder, leaning down to look his nephew face to face. “We didn’t know! Watchtower alerted us to the news feed and we came here immediately when we couldn’t contact Batman.”

“Batman?” Superboy stared at Superman with the perpetual scowl he wore in the older hero’s presence, but the query was directed at any of the senior JL members. “What does Batman have to do with this Grayson kid?”

The three League members looked to each other before turning back to the Young Justice heroes. “Dick Grayson is the adopted son of Bruce Wayne.” Superman answered the clone after a moment.

“Bruce Wayne is a major contributor to the League, is he not?” Kaldur questioned, still uncertain as to what was going on.

“Via Wayne Enterprises, yes,” Green Arrow nodded. “The League, and by extension this team, required a significant amount of monetary support. Queen Industries is another.”

“I do not understand,” M’gann shook her head. “Kid Flash’s reaction is not one of an acquaintance. Do you know Richard Grayson?”

It was Wally’s turn to hesitate, torn between loyalty to a friend and honesty with his team. He settled for the middle ground. “Yeah, I know Dick.”

Recognize: Batman, 0-1; Artemis, B-0-7

The Zeta Beam glowed brightly for a moment before two shadows stepped into the entrance cavern. Both seemed surprised by the waiting protégés and mentors.

Superman was the first to approach Batman. “Watchtower alerted the League members with the clearance; the kids saw it here on the news. It’s gone national already. It’ll hit the AP before midnight.”

The caped crusader nodded and looked to Green Arrow who had approached and was looking at his protégé with concern. “She tried to stop them.”

“I thought it was you,” Oliver Queen squeezed her shoulder gently. “The reports said a student was hurt.”

“Wind knocked out of me,” Artemis admitted with a blush under the scrutiny of the elder archer. “I was fine a few minutes later.”

“Is someone going to tell the rest of us what the hell is going on?!”

Wally’s bellow surprised everyone gathered and the teens couldn’t help but notice the hesitation amongst the JL members. They all looked to their leader and after another moment of silent contemplation Batman’s body seemed to slump in defeat. “I will explain in the debriefing room.”

He was moving before he had finished speaking, leaving the rest to follow without question.

A few minutes later the heroes, Young Justice in front of the League members, stood around the large central holographic computer. Batman was closest to the machine and brought up a small window that began playing the footage from the school security cameras. Artemis felt cold at the images playing and was grateful for Green Arrow’s comforting hand still on her shoulder.

“Holy shit!” From next to Artemis, Kid Flash exhaled the expletive as the blood rushed from his face.

The Dark Knight spared the red haired teen a brief glance before speaking. “As you all heard, at precisely twelve-oh-eight, three armed gunmen entered Gotham City Academy and forcibly removed one of the students – Richard Grayson. Kaldur, you and your team will recognize one of the men.” A square encompassed the masked face from the footage and popped it into a larger separate screen.

“Sportsmaster,” the young Atlantean confirmed. “He was working for the League of Shadows last we encountered him.

“So what do they want some rich man’s kid?” Superboy asked with a slight bored tone in his voice.

“Dick isn’t just some kid,” Artemis snapped and levelled a glare at the clone.

This drew everyone’s attention to her and a moment later a third screen was brought up. Dick’s struggling form in the grip of Sportsmaster was playing on a continuous loop for the gathered heroes.

Superman was the first to speak. “Batman-”

“As ward of Bruce Wayne, Richard Grayson is a prize any two bit hood looking for ransom would kill for.” Batman continued, ignoring the looks he was getting from his team mates. Artemis and Wally were the only one from the younger team without looks of confusion on their faces.

 “Except it wasn’t Dick that was abducted,” Artemis felt the hold on her shoulder tighten and she was grateful again for Oliver Queen’s presence behind her.

“I do not understand,” M’gann could obviously feel the growing tension and worry that was permeating the room.

“Batman, are you certain?” The Flash’s eyes, noticeable even behind his mask, widened with the implication when their leader nodded.

“What do you know, Artemis?” Wally glowered at her, and she felt the weight of blame falling to her.

“I attend Gotham City Academy,” she admitted, meeting the teens stare. He blinked owlishly at her, not having expected that answer. “I witnessed the kidnapping.”

“She also tried to stop it,” Batman snarled and despite the gruffness of his words she felt the blame lifting immediately. The video loop ended with the man’s deft manipulation of the keyboard and the brief encounter between the civilian Artemis and Sportsmaster was played.

“I didn’t think we were supposed to interfere when in our civvies?” Wally commented quietly and glanced at the young archer curiously, but no longer condemningly. “You didn’t know. Why would you…?”

The silence was heavy as everyone waited for her answer; one she couldn’t find the breath to voice.

 “The point is that she did,” Batman mercifully interceded. “But what she said is correct. Before Sportsmaster succeeded in taking Dick from the school he was able to pass a message, through Artemis, to Bruce Wayne-”  He lifted a heavily gloved hand toward his cowl and Artemis saw him hesitated, but only a moment before he was pulling it back from his face- “To me.”

As there were only three teenagers in the room that were not in the knowing, the reaction to his revelation was not what it might have been. But it was still enough to stun the occupants of the room into silence.

“That is why Robin is not here,” Aqualad was the first to make the connection.

“Dick Grayson was not Sportsmaster’s target,” the billionaire confirmed, his dark eyes falling to Artemis.

“He told me, ‘broken wing’.” She told the group, matching the man’s stare. “It’s a code to let Batman, his father, know that Robin’s identity had been compromised.”

“So, wait,” Wally shook his head, the fear for his friend evident in his voice and his eyes. “Just wait! You’re telling me – us, that Sportsmaster knew Rob’s secret identify? How is that even possible? Nobody on this team knew that!”

“You did,” Miss Martian pointed out to him. “You reacted to the news feeds before we were told anything.”

“Are you saying that I told ratted him out?!!”

“I am just saying that your statement was incorrect.”

“Do we know how this Mercenary garnered that information, Bruce?” Superman asked guardedly, his eyes flicking toward Artemis.

The teen caught the look and frowned and, by Green Arrow’s sudden tightened hand, knew her mentor had as well. “She had nothing to do with it, and you know it, Boyscout.”

Superman bristled at the nickname, spoken this time as an obvious insult.

“We don’t know how he knew,” Batman spoke up before things got out hand. “It’s one of the things Young Justice will need to find out.”

“Us?” Kaldur’s raised eyebrows were the only indication of his surprise.

“Kinda thought you’d want to run point on this one,” Kid Flash said.

Bruce snarled, turning his back to everyone as he watched the videos playing out on the screens. His hands clenched into fists and Artemis could see his arms shaking with frustration.

“We can’t know to what purpose Sportsmaster and the League of Shadows have for taking Robin,” Green Arrow stated quietly, “but they were determined enough to learn his civilian identity to get to him. By kidnapping him so publicly, and as Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne will need to be seen doing what is expected of a man in his situation. He will need to work with the authorities to get his son back.”

Superman nearly growled. “The abduction of a civilian, with no apparent reason warranting the involvement of the League, will have to be left to the local authorities. Unless it was to somehow become a national or global concern, the Justice League cannot be seen publicly helping.

Superboy clarified for the rest of Young Justice. “They’ve taken Batman, and the League, out of the equation.”

“Very effectively,” Bruce sighed.

The billionaire quickly pulled his mask back over his face when a window opened on the screen in front of them. A moment later Wonder Woman appeared with a sever scowl marring her beautiful face.

“Good, you’re there,” she said when she saw Batman. “There’s a communication coming through for you and I couldn’t reach you at the Batcave. Watchtower received it on one of the lesser know League frequencies, and its encrypted.”

“Have someone else handle it,” Batman growled at the interruption.

“No one else can,” the woman stated. “It’s not one of our encryption codes. The only thing we can get from it is a series of letters and number. BW-R911-3323-6328.”

“Whose is it?” Superman asked, seeing Batman move to another section of the computer and downloading the communication file to the Mount Justice computer.

“It’s one of Robin’s.”

*LINCHPIN*

Normally, Dick found travelling in the Wayne Enterprise’s executive helicopter a relaxing and enjoyable experience. Despite the similarities between the two aircrafts, flying while lying on the floor hogtied with piano wire was definitely not something he enjoyed. His chest ached from the strain of his pectorals stretching to accommodate the pull of his arms behind his back. He couldn’t even relax in the bindings as every time he did the wire would cut into his flesh and reopen his clotting wounds.

He had lost all sensation in his hands shortly after Sportsmaster had stopped talking to him, and Robin had managed to keep an approximate track of time in the air. He couldn’t be exact, but as the machine began its decent, he had counted to nearly three thousand without interruption. Equating one second with each count, would place their flight close to fifty minutes; which, with the average speed of a commercial helicopter, would place the distance flown at approximately 200 miles from Gotham City Academy.

This would also place him anywhere in an area of more than 125,000 square miles.

Robin’s ears popped with the changing of altitude and he lifted his head to try and look out the window, hoping to get some idea of where they were. He managed to see a small copse of trees as the aircraft lowered itself into an underground bunker. A moment later, the helicopter touched down and the overhead doors clanged shut.

“Ah, home at last.” Sportsmaster chuckled as he rose from his seat, stepping over his captive and opened the side door and leapt outside.

“Were there any complications?” A familiar voice asked from outside the machine.

Twisting his head to the side so quickly he wrenched a couple muscles in his neck, Robin stared wide-eyed at the man standing next to Sportsmaster. “You?!”

The eyes visible through the golden helmet remained expressionless as Sportsmaster grabbed Rick by the knees and pulled him across the floor. The boy cried out as the wire cut into the flesh of his wrists and ankles.

“Was the wire truly necessary?” Guardian asked the mercenary who was smiling with sadistic pleasure.

“You don’t like it; you kidnap the kid next time.” Sportsmaster chuckled and accepted a pair of wire cutters from one of his men. The cable between wrists and ankles was snipped and the bound hero was easily slung over the hired gun’s shoulder.

“I don’t like it,” Guardian sighed, sparing a glance at Robin before turning away. “I find the idea of using a child like this repulsive.”

“Hey! I’m not a child!”

“No,” Guardian admitted, taking something from within the folds of his dark blue jumpsuit. “I suppose you are not.”

“No, don’t!” Robin cried out as the once-hero stepped around Sportsmaster and pulled the piece of fabric around his eyes. The boy fought, swinging his head wildly in the effort of dislodging the blindfold, but the knock was secured at the back of his head and he sagged in defeat. He was more than a little surprised when he realized he could still see.

Seeing his confusion, Guardian answered his unspoken question. “You have an identity to protect, young man. I can respect that. We are in need of Robin, not Dick Grayson. The only ones aware that they are one in the same are inside this room.”

“Speaking of which,” Sportsman shifted his burden on his shoulder so he was holding Robin in place with only one arm. The other reached for the pistol on his hip and drew the weapon without thought. A split second, and two deafening gunshots, later the other two men were lying on the ground with matching bullet holes seeping blood between their eyes.

“Holy shit!” Robin shouted at the sudden murders.

“Language, young hero,” Guardian scolded as he escorted Sportsmaster and their captive away from the gruesome sight.

“But, why?!” Robin started struggling on the mercenaries shoulder, the desperate need to get away from the pair overshadowing all else. “Why would you kill them?!”

“You really wanted them to keep the knowledge of who you are?” Sportsmaster questioned as they stepped into an awaiting elevator.

“Do you really care?” Robin grunted as he was dropped onto the floor.

Guardian pressed the single button on the control consol and crouched beside him as the car began its descent. There was a sympathetic look in the man’s eyes. “I appreciate that this is all very confusion, but I can assure you that we do not wish you any undue harm.”

It was hard to believe that statement when Sportsmaster was kneeling on the other side of him and drawing a vicious looking hunting blade. Robin looked at the gleaming knife warily. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t trust you on that.”

The top of the serrated blade sliced into the expensive fabric of Dick’s shirt, starting with the embossed crest of Gotham City Academy, and began cutting it away from his body.

“You are a Hero, Robin,” Guardian said, watching his partner carefully, “A young man that has great potential for great things. It is a shame that you are influenced by those who do not understand what must be done in the name of the greater good. But you are young yet, and there is still hope for you.”

He was shivering, from the recycled air chilling his now exposed torso and the dread creeping it at Guardian’s words. “So, what, this is your idea of an intervention?”

Sportsman chuckled, gathering the remnants of the shirt, and Guardian shook his head. “We are in need of a way to negate the collateral damage while we gather certain items we require. You, Robin, are that way; and when you have fulfilled your purpose, you will be released unharmed and with your secrets still intact. No one inside this compound, with the exception of Sportsmaster and I, know of your secondary identity. Though our employers will undoubtedly want that information, I will swear an oath to you now that both of us will protect that identity fiercely.”

Robin looked between his two kidnappers as the words began to sing in. “What did you mean, a way to negate collateral damage?”

“In the past, our organizations have clashed. There have always been casualties on both side and it is not something I am comfortable with.”

“So how about we stop clashing?” Robin quipped, only to yelp in surprise a moment later as Guarding lifted him off the floor when the door opened. Waiting for them was the horned genomorph Robin remembered encountering in Cadmus’ subterranean labs with a gurney. He was placed onto it and a thick strap was secured over his chest – causing him to hiss in pain as the wires on his wrists once again cut into him.

“I’m afraid that is not a possibility, young Robin.” Guarding walked along side him, his hand on the gurney. “As I said, there are items which we need to procure and it is anticipated that the Justice League – and your own team – would inevitably interfere. When last that happened, lives were lost and millions of dollars sustained in damage. We are trying a different approach this time. With you, it is our hope that your friends and mentors will step aside, allowing us to gather what we need.”

“So in other words, kidnap me, hold me hostage, and blackmail the League into giving you want you want or else... what? Killing me doesn’t exactly go along with not meaning me any harm, you know.”

“I believe he said undue harm,” Sportsmaster said from where he marched at the foot of the gurney. He looked back at the boy with a frightening smirk. “I, on the other hand, am hoping that you little playmates don’t go along with this scheme and I get my turn to play with the Bat and his teams.”

Guardian glowered at the mercenary who just chuckled again and looked away. “It is unfortunate, Robin, but should the Justice League, or Young Justice, interfere in anyway, we will be forced to follow through with our incentives.”

“Torturing, maiming, killing, you know,” Sportsmaster looked over his shoulder, “all the horrifyingly fun stuff.”

“Sportsmaster, enough!” Guardian stopped their procession and pulled him away from the gurney. “You are no longer needed today. Leave, now, before I feel the needed to remove the identity of this boy from your memory.”

“Of course,” Sportsmaster shrugged off the thread. “Just having a little fun. Catch you later, Robin.”

“My apologies,” Guardian said to Robin once the other man was gone and they were once again on their way. “He is, unfortunately, the best at what he does. I do not believe we would have discovered the truth of your identity were it not for him.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“I suppose it would not.” Guardian stopped led them into a room and sealed the door behind them. “I do, however, regret that it has become necessary for us to take this step to achieve our goals. It would be so much better were we able to work together.”

The genomorph removed the strap securing Robin to the table and turned the boy onto his side. A moment later, several clips sounded at his back and the wire around his wrists loosened. At his feet, Guardian was methodically cutting at the bindings on his ankles. “Barbaric,” the adult mumbled as he worked.

The twisted metal cord was carefully unwound from his skin, leaving Robin sweating and breathing hard at the pain as it was pulled from the wound. “The damage is superficial,” the creature informed them. “It will heal on its own.”

“Good to know,” Robin muttered and leapt into motion.

He kicked out with his feet still held together, forcing Guardian to stumble back several paces. At the same time Robin twisted on the gurney, driving his elbow into the abdomen of the genomorph beside him. He moved his body with the momentum, allowing himself to roll off the gurney and onto his hands and knees on the floor. He was scrambling away from the pair an instant later, dashing for the door.

It was only when he reached it that, at the same moment lifting right hand to his left, he remembered he was not in his Robin uniform and did not have the gloves with his computer. His brief flight for freedom was halted before it even started, and a heavy arm wrapped around his waist, lifting him from the ground.

“I appreciate the need to attempt escape,” Guardian said into Robin’s ear as the boy fought against the former hero’s vice-like hold. “But truthfully, even you must realize that at the point your cooperation is your only course of action.”

“Let me go, jackass!” Robin kicked back, the heel of his shoe connecting solidly with the man’s knee cap with an unpleasant popping sound.

Guardian grunted but still did not release him. “You are leaving me with little choice,” the man growled from behind him. “I wish to make your time here comfortable, but you will need to cooperate!”

“Fuck you!” Robin snapped his head back.

With a clang the back of his head connected with the solid metal of the helmet his captor wore. His body went limp and the world around his spun sickeningly.

Robin was aware of being moved and laid onto a flat, relatively soft, surface. As his head began to clear he felt the thick weight of leather straps securing his wrists and ankles where he lay. Others were pulled over his waist and chest. The room tilted, but this time he realized it was the gurney he was one and not him. It lifted him until he was in an upright position and facing the man that held him captive.

Limping, Guardian came to stand in front of him with a regretful expression in his eyes. “I find I respect your attempt, Robin, and therefore I will not punish you. This time. However, we are wasting time and there is much that needs to be accomplished.”

Unable to fight anymore, Robin went with his last course of defiance and spit in man’s face.

Sighing, Guardian wiped the moisture from where it landed next to his exposed lips. At first it seemed as if he would not respond, but a moment later the fist backhanded the restrained teen. “Proceeding from this moment, you will be punished accordingly, young Robin.”

Ears ringing from the blow, Robin probed at his throbbing lip with his tongue. It was sore, but he did not taste the coppery taste that came with blood. He remained silent, glowering at the man standing before him.

“Good,” Guardian nodded and the genomorph came to stand beside him. “Now, we already have means to contact the Justice League. What we need from you is an encryption code that was ensure it is seen by Batman, and only him.”

Robin snorted. “Right, like I’m just going to tell you that.”

Guardian looked to the genomorph who nodded and walked to a computer that had been unnoticed until now. “Thank you, Robin.”

“What fo-” Even from where he remained, Robin could see the coding the creature was imputing into the computer and swore under his breath. The thing had plucked his encryption code right from his head!

“Damn telepaths,” He griped as Guardian limped away for a moment, only to come back a second later.

“Remember,” the one-time hero told Robin while he fingered thick rubber tubing between his fingers, “the more you cooperate, and the better things will go for you. It won’t take long now, a few days at most, before you will be returned to your friends and father.”  

Robin stared furiously at the man. “Batman is so going to kick your a-ahhf!” The rubber was slipped between his lips and his head was forced down as Guardian secured the medical gag behind his head.

“The communication will be sent momentarily,” Guardian informed the helpless boy before walking away. “It will be over soon.”

Chapter Text

Mount Justice

October 18, 2:20pm EST

The fact that it took Batman, despite knowing the access and counter codes, several minutes to decrypt the incoming transmission was a testament to the skill of the missing hacker.

“How is he so certain that it is from Robin,” M’gann asked quietly from where she stood.

“The repeating numbers when someone else tries to access it,” Kid Flash answered as equally hushed.

“Dick,” Green Arrow paused and corrected himself, “Robin helped Batman develop the JLs encryption codes when we went public.”

“Each member has his or her own series of codes which helps Watchtower filter incoming messages.” The Flash said. “If someone unauthorized tries to access the communiqué, all they will be able to read is the base code.”

“It will continue to repeat until the correct passwords and filters are imputed into the system.” Superman nodded to where Batman worked furiously. “For a finite amount of time, however, until the signal or message is corrupted and lost.”

“And Robin helped design this?” Artemis was impressed. Looking around, she could see the rest of her team were just as awed.

“When he was ten,” The Flash said.

“Dead Meat,” Wally watched the dark shrouded man as intently as the others. Until that statement, when all but the Dark Knight’s eyes fell onto him.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Superboy snarled at the speedster.

“Dick and I text back and forth,” Wally explained. “We use the numbers of the phone pad instead of letters. It’s sorta a game we have to try and figure out what the other is saying. 3323-6328; d-e-a-d-m-e-a-t. Dead meat.”

“He found it amusing,” Batman paused in his keystrokes, having been listening to the conversation behind him. “BW-R911-3323-6328: Broken Wing – Robin 911 – Dead Meat; he told me that if he ever needed to use this particular encryption because his civilian identity had been discovered then he…” he shook the grim thought from his head and went back to work.

Oliver stepped away from the others and came to stand beside the League’s leader. Of all the mentors, he understood the connection between the man and his ward better than the rest.  It was the same bond that he shared with Roy. And despite the rift between the pair at the moment, the archer could well imagine what Bruce was going through. “How much longer?”

“Less than ninety seconds.”

Artemis watched her mentor as the blonde offered what support he could to his fellow billionaire. Her head was spinning with everything that it had learned in the last few hours. It wasn’t even the whole Robin/Dick thing; it was her sudden realized just how pivotal the teen was to the heroes. Not just their team, either.

Robin may be the youngest of them – not taking in to account Superboy’s technical age – and yet he was by far the more experienced and relied on. He was the Team's techie and hacker, and Artemis had yet to see him unable to break into anything. Recently, he and Superboy had been hanging out together and the clone was less… clone-y than he had been.  Megan and Robin were constantly having conversations about the intricacies of the human language and behaviour. KF was always going to Robin for one thing or another. Hell, even Kaldur was picking the kid’s brain on strategies scenarios. He was a part of their team, so it really shouldn’t have been a surprise.

The shock was how much he was integrated with the Justice League despite being a 'sidekick'. He’d been even more of a kid when he helped design their encryption programs. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the 'help' he gave was more on par with him doing it and gifting it to Batman with that patented teasing smirk of his.

But it was more than just what he offered as a Hero or a Sidekick.

Batman’s worry and fears were obvious, and expected, but the others – Superman, The Flash, even Green Arrow – all held the same expressions as Dick’s guardian. It was a look that mixed fear with a myriad of other emotions; the one that told of a connection to the missing boy that she hadn’t expected.

It spoke of more than a team.

It spoke of family.

“About time,” the voice of Sportsmaster cut through the stillness of Mount Justice. “I was thinking I might have to start sending a few pieces back to get your attention, Batsy.”

The bodies in the room tensed at the sight that the streaming video presented to them.

The mercenary sat comfortably with his feet propped up on the computer console in front of him. In the background, a surgical table was upright with a bound and mercilessly gagged Robin. The boy was fighting against his restraints, blood visible as it seeped from beneath the thick leather straps on his wrists, and cursing at the man through the rubber tubing gag. What they original thought was a blindfold turned out to be a crudely crafted mask, which surprised everyone.

Sportsmaster chuckled, knowing where his audience’s attention was being drawn to, and looked over his shoulder at the boy before looking back to camera feed. “I wanted Robin, not Grayson. Today was just a means to an end, boys and girls.” He pulled his feet onto the ground. “I’m sure you’re tracking – at least trying to – and recording this signal. I really hope you are, because I wouldn’t want you to miss this.”

Robin’s body suddenly arched, eyes clenched and teeth gnashing at the gag, as the hum of electricity filled the air.

“Stop!” Megan cried, eyes watering at the sight of her teammate and friend. “Stop it, please!”

The eyes visible through Sportsmaster’s mask smirked and a second later Robin’s growls of pain became screams of agony when the electrical whine intensified.

“What do you want?” Batman yelled.

The man cackled in delight and Robin’s body suddenly went slack, limbs twitching despite the straps.

“The million dollar question, now isn’t it Batman?” Sportsmaster leaned back in his chair again, feet draped onto the console. “It’s quite simple, really. Your little Junior Heroes Wannabes cost me a lot of profit and product on Santa Prisca-”

“So this is revenge?”  Kaldur asked.

With a snort of amusement, Sportsmaster shook his head. “If that were the case, I would have just killed this little bastard the moment I had him in my sights. No, as I said before: this is just a means to an end. I have to make up that lost capital, and this ensures no interference from you. Any of you. Think of this as a little time off from the hero business.

“So this is what’s going to happen now,” the mercenary flicked his hand back toward the still gasping and twitching Robin. “Robin will be staying with me. Three days at least, a week tops. Depends on how long it takes me to gather what I need. ”

“We could help you,” Artemis crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at the man through the connection. “Tell us what it is you want and we can get it for you.”

Sportsmaster was silent for a moment while he stared at the girl, and then he frowned. “No, I think I’ll enjoy it this way more. It’ll give me more time to… get to know the little hero.” He considered her for a few seconds longer before turning his attention back to Batman.

“Go home,” he instructed. “The GCPD are becoming quite persistent with your butler. I think they’re beginning to wonder where it is you have disappeared to. Until the time Robin is no longer needed, you will give Commissioner Gordon and his boys what they want. They get to play the heroes while Bruce Wayne frets over the return of his son. You will be receiving a package in less than an hour with the first directions for the ransom of Dick Grayson.”

With a wicked smirk, the mercenary disconnected the transmission and the screens went black.

Batman was gripping the ledge of the console with his head bowed, shoulder visible shaking with rage. Wonder Woman’s image flickered back onto the screen, her face pale and concern prevalent in her eyes.

“Watchtower was unable to trace the communication,” she said quietly. “Not completely, anyway. We know it came from the North-Eastern United States, but other than that-”

Roaring like a cornered animal suddenly lifted his hands and drove his gauntleted fist through the computer panel in front of him. A shower of sparks erupted around his hand, the image of Wonder Woman flickered before it disappeared and the computer shut down. Without another sound, Batman spun around and stormed from the room.

Superman was the first to react. “Oliver.”

“I got him.” Green Arrow pulled the mask from his face and followed quickly after the Dark Knight.

Kid Flash walked over to the computer and ran the tips of his fingers along the edge of the jagged hole. “Whoa, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him react that way before.”

M’gann sniffled lightly and wrapped her arms around her torso. “And why would he not? Robin – Richard is his son.”

“This is not the first time Robin’s been kidnapped,” Barry sighed, leaned against the broken machine beside his nephew, and pushed the hooded mask off his face. “I don’t even want to think how many times the Joker has gone after that kid just to torment Batman.”

“Dick too,” Wally nodded absently. “I can think of three different times in the past year someone’s tried to get to Bruce Wayne through Dick.”

“So why is this time any different?” Superboy asked.

“Because,” the older Kryptonian answered his clone, “it’s the first time Dick has been taken as a means at Batman, and by extension the League.”

“What you kids need to realize,” Barry explained,” Is that it’s not just you five that Robin and Batman kept their identities secret from. It’s probably one of the highest guarded secrets of the League, inside and out. Of League members, there are only a handful of people who have that information and it took years, for those of us that do, to learn it. I only know because of circumstances during one of our missions.”

A faint, wry grin touched Superman’s mouth. “I remember that; two years ago right. You were all pissed off because he trumped your argument about keeping our secret identities by outing you. Batman had already figured out your secret identity.”

Barry frowned. “Yours too, don’t forget.”

“If anyone could, it would be the Batman.” Any trace of a smile was gone an instant later as he looked to the teens. “Which is why he’s reacting as he is. Batman is heralded as the greatest detective in the world. If anyone had a chance of figuring out Sportsmaster’s game and where to find Robin, it would have been him. Except by taking Dick Grayson, they’ve tied Batman’s hands. There’s nothing Batman, or Bruce, can do without revealing himself and Dick to the world.”

“He is not the only one.”

All eyes shifted to the stoic faced Atlantean.

“Look, Kal,” Barry began.

“No, you look,” the leader of the Team stepped forward. “You say that the League is not in a position to work this, to work to rescue Dick Grayson or Robin, but that is not to say that we are not.”

“This is not a mission for Young Justice,” Superman shook his head.

“It’s not like it’s a League mission either,” Superboy growled. “It’s not one of your teammates that’s being held hostage.”

“Going against Sportsmaster is likely to get Robin killed.”

“And standing back and waiting is a guarantee to get him killed,” Artemis had her arms folded across her chest. “No matter what he says, Sportsmaster is going to want payback for what happened on Santa Prisca and he’s not stupid enough to think he’ll ever get another chance at any of us, let alone Robin. If he lets Robin go, he’s got to know Batman’s going to make sure he’ll never get close enough again.”

“She’s right,” Wally turned away from the gaping hole in the console. “Sportsmaster may be a merc, but let’s face it; we all know he’s going to kill Robin the first chance he gets.”

“I will fly over the entire country searching for his mind, if I must!” Miss Martian threw in with her team. “Was not this team formed to do what the League cannot?”

“In this instant, M'gann, it is will not. So, if the League is unwilling to aid us,” Kaldur scowled at the two senior heroes, “I think Superboy said it best when we first met.”

The clone stood straight, fists clenched at his sides. “Get on board, or get out of the way.”

Unknown Location

October 18, 2:30pm EST

“You did very well, Robin.” Guardian said to the boy when Sportsmaster ended the transmission. The horned Genomorph moved to the controls of the table and lowered Robin into a horizontal position. Guardian stood off to the side, watching. “I do believe you have convinced them to cooperate.”

The boy was panting desperately for air around the gag. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes and he was acutely aware of the taste of blood on his tongue. The thick rubber had prevented him from biting his tongue, but it had been tight enough to pull at the tender skin of his mouth and split the corners of his lips. The blood was beginning to pool in his mouth as swallowing was made difficult with the obstructive tubing.

“Maybe for now,” Sportsmaster was still reclining in his seat. “But do you honestly believe the Big Bad Bat is going to just sit back while we work?”

“He will have no choice,” Guardian sighed, displeased. “It is the children I am concerned about.”

The man for hire snorted and stood. “You’re afraid of what they will do?”

“Not of them,” the helmeted man shook his head, “but for them. They are children, manipulated by the League and its leaders in to doing their dirty work. I fear that they will be commanded to try to stop us and in turn will be hurt, or killed. It is bad enough that we have resorted to using a child as a hostage, but in truth I do not wish him –or them- harm. Is it for them that we are doing this.”

Sportsmaster shrugged. “So, ask the kid. He knows his team, he’ll know what they will do and how to stop them with little to no damage.”

“A good idea. Dubbilex...?”

A cool touch on his cheek startled Robin and he snapped his head toward the source of the contact. The horned creature was now right next to him and its elongated hand rested on his sweaty brow. The horns began to glow. **Tell me of the others, friend to my brother.**

Get out of my frickin’ head!

Robin had the impression of the thing smiling, but no physical manifestation to that face could be seen. **Yes, I suppose this would be frightening. But you are doing well to prevent me from delving too deep, now that you are remembering what I am capable of. But I assure you, sooner or later I will garner what we want to know."

Not as long as I'm breathing! Robin closed his eyes and turned away from the thing, his mind racing through his school work.

“What is taking so long,” Sportsmaster grumbled, interrupting the silent conversation.

“The boy is resisting the probe,” Dubbilex looked over at the two waiting me. “He is quoting mathematics.”

“He’s doing what?” The mercenary’s arched eyebrow was visible through the eyehole of his mask.

“Calculus, I believe.” An amused glint sparked briefly in the genomorph’s crimson eyes. “I quote: ‘Suppose that x and y are real numbers and that y is a function of x, that is, for every value of x, we can determine the value of y. This relationship is written as: y = f(x). Where f(x) is the equation for a straight line, y = m x + b, where m and b are real numbers that determine the locus of the line in Cartesian coordinates.’  Shall I continue?” He asked

“No,” Guardian seemed impressed as he approached the table and his hostage. “Batman has trained this one; I doubt we will get anything from his that way now. We had the element of surprise when you obtained the encryption code. We will take him to his room for now and let him rest.”

“I can always try,” Sportsmaster offered a little too quickly for Robin’s likely.

“That is not necessary.”

“Yet.”

The two men glared at each other.

The horned genetic creation removed his hand from Robin’s forehead and the fingers ghosted down to the back of his head and deftly released the clips holding the gag in place. The genomorph stepped aside, bringing the two men back into the young hero’s sight, starting to loosen the straps securing the boy, but Robin wasted no time in sitting up as much as he good and spitting the blood from his mouth.

And straight at the two men.

Crimson fluid splattered the pair and Robin leaned back onto the thin mattress padding the table, a satisfied and bloodies smile colouring his lips.

Guardian stepped next to the surgical table and guided the genomorph away from the teen. “Was that really necessary?” A glower pierced through the sullied gold helmet, but Robin wasn’t the least bit intimidated. Nothing compared to the bat-glare.

He returned the look. “Was electrocuting me really necessary?”

“Batman and the others had to be made to understand the true severity of your situation.”

“Presentation, kid,” Sportsmaster was suddenly on Robin’s other side and leering down at their captive through his mask. “It’s all about the presentation. Plus, it was all kinds of fun.”

Now that look sent a pulse of fear through the boy wonder.

“Enough,” Guardian snapped at the other man, causing the mercenary to sneer at both of them before walking out of the room.

The former hero placed his hand over the loosened strap on Robin’s one wrist. “And what of you, Robin; do you understand the part you are to play in all this?”

“I’m not playing your game, Guardian,” Robin smirked, a determined glint settling into his eyes, “At least not by your rules. You grabbed the wrong sidekick if you think I’m going to sit back and be your bargaining chip. I am going to make this a difficult and painful for you as possible!”

The strap was suddenly tightened again and Robin hissed at the pain it caused to shoot through the open cuts on his wrists. “I was prepared to make you comfortable. There was a room, a shower, food, clothing; but I warned you about punishment for your behaviour.”

The boy wonder snorted. “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet...”

Guardian sighed and secured the gag back into place, causing Dick to wince as it pulled the splits on his lips open again.

“Perhaps come morning you will better appreciate what I am willing to do for your cooperation.” Guardian and Dubbilex left the room.

The lights flickered and went out, what light remaining coming only from the computer screen that begun to power down. A moment later, their captive was left in complete darkness.

Chapter Text

It always amazed Wally just how heavy something as intangible as silence could feel. The interior of Mount Justice was thick with is, the lights dimmed into near darkness as most of the Cave’s occupants had retired for what rest they could obtain after the day’s events.

The ultimatum delivered to Flash and Superman did not go over well, not that he thought it would have. The pair finally relented to talk to Batman before they came back with the order to stand down. Not that the younger team would listen if it did come to that. They’d disobeyed the League before, and they were all more than ready and willing to do it again.  They had both left shortly thereafter, with the promise to return the following morning, leaving Young Justice to wait it out.

He had spent the last hour just walking around. That of itself was strange, as Kid Flash never walked anywhere, but he was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t realized when his feet had taken him to the door to Robin’s quarters. Standing outside the sealed door he found his mind going back to the last time Robin had actually stayed at the Mountain.

“Before Bialya,” he murmured to himself as the tips of his fingers brushed against the control panel next to the door.

That had been months ago, before school had started for the Boy Wonder. Batman had kept Robin in Gotham more often after that mission, and KF couldn’t fault the man. Psimon had wiped months of their lives from their memories. Despite winning against the bad guys, the debriefing afterward had left a bad taste in Wally’s mouth. Batman’s too, apparently.

“After I came to,” Robin had told the gathered heroes when it came to his report. “I had seen a rock formation on the horizon and started walking. I used them to hide from a keep full of Bialyian soldiers and considered contacting Batman, when I remembered the order to maintain Radio Silence. I ended up tracking a GPS marker back to our inception point, when I was ambushed by more soldiers. The dialect was different, but one of them shouted something in what sounded like Arabic.” Robin pressed a quick series of buttons on his wrist computer and the soldier’s shouted command echoed in the briefing room.

صاحبة الجلالة تريد منه على قيد الحياة!

“And what exactly does that mean?” Superboy had asked.

“They wanted him alive,” Red Tornado translated.

“Alive?!” Artemis snarled. “They dropped a missile on the cabin Wally and I were in, and then they shot at us with tank. TANKS!”

“Was it just Robin they were talking about, or anyone who came back to that position?” Aqualad asked.

“He was the only one capable of tracking the marker,” Wally whispered. With a sigh, he shook his head and walked away from the sealed room.

Queen Bee had wanted him. Robin. No one else.

Sportsmaster had deduced Robin’s civilian identity to get to him.

Half the criminals in Arkham had, at one time or another, gone after the Batman’s partner.

Wally knew his best friend was unique, special. Hell, he was Batman’s partner! Not sidekick, partner! Thirteen years old he had more experience as a hero than some of the Justice League! There were times when Wally had wanted to be Robin. What sidekick didn’t? But now, realizing just how much of a target the kid had made himself...

“I don’t think I’ve ever told him how much I admire him,” Wally muttered as he entered the rec room.

He was brought up short in the doorway by the glow of the laptop screen on Artemis’ knees. The blonde had let her hair down, the strands cascading down the arm of the sofa which she rested her back on, and let her legs stretch out in front of her. Laid out next to her were several sheets of paper, each filled with writing. Even now she was jotting down something else on a partially filled piece.

So engrossed in the computer was she, that the archer did not notice as Wally came up behind her.

He froze when he saw what she was watching.

The volume was off, but there video image of his best friend being electrocuted was bringing the sound of Robin screaming to the forefront of his mind.

“Why are you watching that?” He ground out.

The girl jumped, the laptop nearly flying on to the floor before she managed to catch it. “What the hell!?” She screeched as she put the machine onto the coffee table and started picking up her now scattered papers. “What the hell! What are you doing sneaking up on me like that!?”

“No sneaking,” He answered evenly, glaring down at her as she paused the video playback. “Why are you watching that?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” She sighed and closed her eyes, leaning her elbows on her knees when she sat up. “I kept seeing him being taken away. And I couldn’t stop it...”

Wally felt himself moving before he realized it and sat beside her. “There was nothing you could have done, Artemis.”

She snorted and turned her head to look at the speedster. “Right, keep telling yourself that. I was right there, Wally. I was six feet away from him! I could have done any number of things different. But no, I just cowered on the floor like everyone else.”

“Not from what I saw,” he told her. “You stood up. You got in front of Sportsmaster and the others before you knew it was Robin they were taking.” He thought about it for a moment, eyes narrowing. “Why did you? You know we’re not to react when in our civvies, not if we can help it.”

“I just,” she sighed again. “I met Dick, not Robin mind you but Dick, a couple of months ago when I accepted the scholarship to Gotham Academy – which I’m now just realizing was set up by Batman – and he was nice to me. He must have known who I was-”

“He’s always know,” Wally smirked. “He’s just like Batman that way. He knows all the supers and their secret identities.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t just me he was nice to. All the scholarship kids. I mean, here we were, the dregs of society – the charity cases – and he treated us like anyone else. Bruce Wayne is the richest guy in Gotham – hell, I think he owns most of it – and so it’s expected that both he and his kid should be a couple of spoiled snobs. Batman’s cultivated that persona for Bruce, but Dick...”

“He’s a good guy,” Wally nodded his understanding. “He tried that ‘rich brat’ thing, and it just did not suit him. Even Bruce said as much. They came to the conclusion that a kid with his history just wouldn’t ever be an aristocratic ass.”

Artemis regarded the redhead for a moment. “What kind of history?”

Wally shook his head. “Not my story to tell. But if you really want to know,” he gestured to the computer. “It’s all on there. But I suggest you ask him.”

“If we get him back.”

“When we get him back.” KF snapped.  The heavy silence returned and he motioned to the computer again. “So why are you watching that?”

“Because I had to do something,” She hissed and jabbed her finger toward the frozen image of the captive hero. “It may have been Dick Grayson taken, but this is Robin. He knew we could see him; do you really think he wouldn’t at least try to get a message to us somehow?”

Kid Flash perked up with that though. “Did you figure it out?”

She shook her head and leaned over the keyboard. “Not yet, but I did find this.”  The video image minimized and she opened up several other windows. Each contained a picture captured from the video. She pointed to one showing the floor behind the mercenary. “There.”

Wally leaned forward for a better look, his eyes narrowing as he tried to decipher what he was seeing. “Are those-?”

“Shadows. Yes.” Artemis’ lips held a grim satisfaction. “Two of them. Meaning-”

“Someone else was in that room. Too bad we can’t see-”

“Ah, but we can!” She flicked through the images until she found the one she was looking for. It was a close-up of a bit of reflective surface from the console that Sportsmaster had been sitting at. It was blurred, making the features impossible to distinguish. “It’s not the best, and I can’t get it any clearer-”

“But it’s something to work from.” Wally turned the laptop toward him and his fingers flew across the keyboard. A minute later the image reloaded and the pixels were a little sharper. “That’s all I can do.”

“But there is definitely two people there,” Artemis pointed to the one. “This one’s smaller than the other, shorter and skinnier, and... is that a horned cowl he’s wearing?”

“Possibly.” Wally huffed and flopped back onto the sofa. “Robin could have had a clear shot of their faces and this social security number by now.”

“Yeah, well Robin’s not here,” Artemis snapped at him. “He’s the one we’re trying to rescue, remember?”

“I get that!” the teen snapped back angrily before the anger disappeared and he took a deep breath. “It’s just... I think I’m starting to realize exactly what Robin means to this team.”

“I know what you mean,” she agreed and leaned back beside him. “I mean, on some level I got that – hey, this is Batman’s protégé! He’s human, no superpowers, no cybernetic enhancements, nothing! Just a... a thirteen year old kid that kicks ass! And not just any ass either.”

A snort escaped from the speedster. “I was thinking the same thing just a bit ago. Seriously, that ‘kid’ has gone toe to toe with some of the scariest there is out there.”

“Two Face”

“Riddler.”

“Joker...”

Wally shivered. “Joker... god, just thinking about that guy gets me freaked out! And Robin’s never backed down from him...”

“Superman hasn’t even faced him,” the archer pointed out. “Not without Batman nearby anyway.”

“Robin has; a couple of times.”

“Without Batman?!”

He nodded. “It wasn’t pretty, but he held his own until Bats could get there.”

“Hell...” Artemis went back to the computer and brought up an image of Sportsmaster. “Robin faces someone like the Joke on his own, and I can’t even stand up to someone like this poser... What kind of hero does that make me?”

“One that’s still alive,” Wally put a hand comfortingly over hers. “He would have killed you if you tried more than you did to stop him. “

She shook her head. “No he wouldn’t have. He’s not suicidal.”

Wally chuckled. “Why, because Green Arrow would have used him as a pin cushion?”

“No,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared at the masked face on the computer, “because my mother would have gutted him and strangled him with his own intestines.”

“Yeah, mothers are pretty scary when they get all protective.”

“Right,” Artemis closed the picture and brought up the video again. “So are you going to help me with this? You know Robin better and might catch something I’ve missed.”

“It’s not like I’m going to get any sleep. Start it over.”

Chapter Text

There was no warning, no gradual illumination; just a sudden and blinding explosion of light that snapped Robin out of the fitful sleep he had fallen into. His body jerked instinctively, jarring stiff and sore muscles against the restraints he had fought against for several hours until exhaustion overtook him. He hissed at the sharp pain that seared through his eyes as he opened them and he squeezed them closed again almost immediately.

Heavy footsteps approached him and he tentatively lifted his lids, watching through his lashes as Sportsmaster entered the room. The eyes of the man were not kind and the captive felt that pulse of fear settle into dread. Those hard eyes stared down at him when the mercenary came to a stop next to the table. Robin met the glare, returning one of his own, though his heart was pounding inside his chest as he wondered what the man was going to do without Guardian there to stop him.

When the vicious looking hunting blade made its appearance at the masked man’s side, Robin felt the dread morph rapidly into panic. He pulled at the straps securing his body, his curses muffled by the thick rubber between his lips. Robin could see in Sportsmaster’s eyes the cruel smile as the man leaned over him and the tip of the blade that rested on Robin’s throat stilled his struggles.

“It’s intoxicating,” Sportsmaster whispered, using slight pressure to the knife to force the boy’s head back and exposing even more of the throat. He could see the pulse racing beneath the pale skin and chuckled perversely. “Seeing the pride flee from your eyes as you recognize your own death.”

“Sportsmaster!”

Robin panted around the gag in relief when the knife was suddenly gone. Guardian stood in the opened doorway, frowning at the other man.

“I told you to prepare the boy, not terrorize him.”

Sportsmaster shrugged and sliced the edge of the blade through the strap encompassing Robin’s wrist. “Just having a little fun.”

As the leather released his limb, Robin swung his fist up and toward his kidnapper’s face. Sportsmaster caught it easily enough, holding the wrist tight in his palm as he reached over the vulnerable boy and cut away the other strap. A brief struggle commenced between the two, ending only when Sportsmaster dropped his knife and pulled Robin up into a sitting position.

Dick’s arms were yanked roughly behind his back and his wrists lashed together with a plastic zip-tie.  He growled at the jolt of pain when the hard edges dug into the already tender flesh.

“I would have thought the night would have tempered you,” Guardian sighed from where he stood watching. “No matter, there is much to be accomplished today and your cooperation is not necessary. It would have made the day easier, but we will manage.”

“Affhll,” Robin spat through the gag.

Sportsmaster chuckled again and moved to remove the straps restricting Robin’s feet. Once that was done, the boy was pulled off the gurney and marched toward the helmeted man and the door. His legs were weak from being unable to move for – god knew how long! – and his back was twitching with every step.

Guardian fell alongside them as he was escorted out of the communications room and into the hall.  Neither said a word, to him or the other, and a moment later he was being forced into a small cell.

There were no bars, nothing that outright screamed ‘prison’, but there was no denying that was what the room was. A bare cot with a small stack of clothes resting on it, a waist high partition concealing a toilet in the corner, a small sink, and nothing else.

“You will be given fifteen minutes,” Guardian explained when the zip-tie was cut away. “Clean yourself up if you desire, but you will be dressed and kneeling with your back to the door, your hands on your head, before we return. If you are not prepared, or waiting as instructed, in the allotted time, I will allow Sportsmaster one hour of entertainment at your expense.”

“Take your time, kid,” The mercenary shoved him forward.

Before Robin could turn around, the pair was gone and the door locked.

Wearily, Dick slumped onto the bare mattress. He picked at the plastic sticking to the dried and fresh blood on his wrists and tossed the tie aside in disgust. He hesitated before reaching behind his head for the clasp to his gag. As he suspected, the rubber was crusted in blood from his mouth and he groaned in pain as he peeled it from between his lips. He felt the sores at the corner of his mouth open again tasted the coppery fluid on his tongue.

He dropped the gag on the floor and shakily walked over to the sink. The water tuned on automatically and he spit the blood into the drain. Robin slid the ‘mask’ from his eyes and winced when he splashed to cool water onto his face.

There was no mirror, but as he gently probed at his lips he frowned at what he felt. “I’m gonna end up looking like the joker.”

The hostage filled his mouth with water, swishing and spitting a few times to clean the bloody taste from his tongue, before drinking greedily. His stomach protested, but he hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since before first period the day before. He guessed it to have been at least twenty-four hours and, regardless, he was starting to feeling dehydrated. The water wouldn’t do much to quench his hunger, but at least he wasn’t thirsty anymore.

The same water was used to tend to his enflamed wrists. Though not deep, the angry red around the edges of the wounds showed the beginnings of an infection. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Piano wire, leather, cable ties, not exactly the most sanitary things to be tied up with.

After relieving himself, he found himself sitting on the bed and inspecting the clothing provided.

He was shocked to see his Robin uniform waiting for him. The Kevlar tights and tunic, minus the cape and utility belt and boots, were an exact duplication of what he normally wore. All his hidden gadgets and tools were missing, but as he adhered the familiar domino mask over his eyes he couldn’t deny the difference it made. He had never felt more exposed than he had as Dick Grayson.

But Robin was a hell of a lot stronger than Grayson.

Grayson…

The video feed from Mount Justice had shown nearly everyone in the briefing room. The League Members were to be expected, but his team had been there. Every last one of them. This meant that they knew who Robin was.

He sighed, unsure how he felt about that. Robin had always been a shadow, a mystery, the Batman’s apprentice, the one whose civilian identity was secret even from his team. They weren’t entirely pleased with that, even Dick wasn’t happy with keeping the secret, but he’d kept it for so long that it was unsettling to know that if – when he got back to the Cave that there would be no more hiding.

No, unsettling wasn’t the word…

Robin smiled.

Relieved. He was glad, in a way, that there would be no more secrets between him and his team. He definitely didn’t like the scenario in which the mystery of Robin was solved, but there was nothing he could do about that.

With another sigh, he picked up the pile of clothes and his as much as he could behind the partition to change. A few minutes later he was sitting on the cot, barefoot but otherwise outfitted in the Robin costume and glaring at the door.

He was contemplating just sitting there, defiant, waiting for his abductors to return. He loathed the idea of kneeling for them, but he liked the idea of sixty minutes alone with Sportsmaster even less.

So it was that, approximately fifteen minutes after being left in the cell, he was in the demanded position when the door opened.

“Good,” Guardian sounded pleased and a moment later a hand took hold of one wrist and wrapped a soft bandage around the appendage. The other wrist was wrapped as well before being secured – surprisingly comfortably – together behind his back.

Robin was lifted to his feet and turned around. Guardian was alone, for which the boy was grateful for. The man carefully took hold of the hero’s chin and turned his head from side to side, inspecting his face. A gauntleted thumb brushed against one of the cuts to his lips and Robin resisted the urge to try and bite the digit.

“Maybe, now, you realize the benefits of no longer resisting your place in this?”

“Believe that all you want,” Robin snorted and rolled his eyes, unseen beneath the reflective lenses of his mask.

Guardian sighed. “Never the less, it is time to go. Sportsmaster is preparing our transportation.”

“Go?” Robin pulled against the man’s grip as he was dragged from the room. An ice-like dread settled in his gut.

“Yes, go. We have a limited window of opportunity to accomplish our goals. There is no point delaying what must be done.” Guardian led his captive into an elevator and the car ascended.

“I’m a firm believer in procrastinating,” Robin managed to yank himself from the hold, and turned to glare at the man.

“You are young,” Guardian shrugged. “Besides, did you truly think we would remain here when your message to your little friends gave away our location?”

The ice turned to lead.

.

.

.

.

.

 “Did either of you get any sleep?” Kaldur wasn’t surprised at all to find Wally or Artemis in the kitchen before dawn, coffee cups in their hands and a poignant silence hanging between them.

Wally shook his head, finishing up his beverage and reaching for a refill. “Did you?”

“I do not believe anyone inside the Mountain got any rest,” he sighed, helping himself to the near empty pot.

“We did, at least, got a few things from the video playback of Sportsmaster’s transmission,” Artemis set her mug down and went for the laptop idling on the coffee table.

“Anything that might help us find Robin?” Megan asked as she came onto the scene, Superboy not far behind her.

“Not exactly,” Wally emptied his cup set it into the sink. “We know Sportsmaster wasn’t alone in the room with Robin-”

“Any idea who?” the clone asked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the kitchen island.

“No, unfortunately.” Artemis held out a couple of images they had printed out during the night and Megan looked at them before passing them around.

“So we are where we started, with nothing to find our friend?”

“We’re not done yet,” the blonde archer growled at the alien. “Wally and I have spent the last few hours going over this video. We’re running it through every possible encryption protocol we’ve got on our computer having it analyze the smallest detail to try and find something.”

“Rob would have sent up a message,” Wally pointed out to the rest of their team. “Now it’s up to us to find it and use it to get him back.”

Superboy didn’t take the pictures when Kaldur held them out to him, and he snorted. “Right. After being taken hostage and electrocuted, Robin still had the presence of mind to tap out an S.O.S in Morse code.”

Artemis and Wally both tensed and look at each other. “We didn’t think of that.”

“It’s possible,” Wally was beside the girl in a flash and bringing up the video feed again. “Not his eyes-”

“-the cloth mask hid too much of them for that.” Artemis was grabbing a piece of paper while the others just watched on in amazement. “Maybe his hands?”

“It would be hard in those restraints,” Kid Flash isolated Robin’s right hand and zoomed in.

“Uh, guys, I was being sarcastic,” Superboy regarded the two with raised eyebrows.

“Hard, but not impossible,” Artemis said, ignoring the clone’s comment. “It couldn’t be too obvious; he would know that those creeps off camera would be watching him.”

“Perhaps he would make it appear innocuous,” Megan suggested, coming closer to the sofa and the pair. “Something one would expect to see in a human after such a painful experience?”

“The muscle spasms,” Wally nodded, staring intently at the twitching hand on the screen.

For a moment, no one breathed.

“There!” Artemis exclaimed, jabbing her finger toward the computer. “Go back; watch his index, middle and ring finger…”

Kaldur and Superboy were moving from the kitchen as Kid Flash rewound the image.

“Index and middle, index, index and middle, index, all three…” Wally muttered while Artemis wrote it down.

“2-1-2-1-3…”

“Index, index and middle, all three…”

“1 – 2 – 3…”

“I thought the old code consisted of dots and dashes,” Megan whispered to Kaldur.

“It does, but it could be interpreted many different ways.” The Atlantean watched the archer and speedster – normally at each other’s throats after spending this much time in the same room – working in near synch. “One finger may be a dash and two a dot, or vice versa.”

“And the three?” Superboy questioned, hoping his angry sarcasm actually served a purpose this time.

“A new letter,” Artemis said as she finished writing the last sequence Wally dictated.

“So it’s really there,” the hope in Megan’s voice was infectious, “a message from Robin?”

“Yeah,” Wally shut down the computer and leaned back with a weary sigh. “It’s there. We just have to decipher it.”

“Gimme… another… minute.” Artemis murmured as she worked.

The quiet, save for the scratching of the archer’s pen, was broken by the alarm.  The five teens looked at each other.

“A mission,” Kaldur tensed. As leader of the team he was responsible for accepting their mission assignments and was torn between his responsibility to the Justice League and his duty to a friend.

“Now?” Superboy growled.

“Maybe there is news on Robin?” Megan asked naively.

A pregnant silence fell on the group and when the alarm sounded again Kaldur shook his head and turned to Artemis. “Wally, Artemis, keep working on that message. The three of us will find out what they got for us.”

Wally beamed and Artemis smirked, going back to her papers. “You got it, Aqualad.”

“Where are Kid Flash and Artemis?” Red Tornado inquired when the trio entered the briefing room a few minutes later.

“They are working on another assignment,” Kaldur answered without hesitation.

“I did not realize any others had been allocated,” the machine said.

“Not by the League,” Superboy snarled.

“But of the highest priority,” Megan crossed her arms over her chest.

“Their presence is not required,” Kaldur narrowed his eyes, daring Red to contradict him.

After a moment’s pause Red Tornado just nodded and tapped a few keys on the newly repaired computer console. “Wonder Woman and Superman will be taking over mission assignments.”

“So what is the mission?” Kaldur asked evenly.

“An hour ago, CERN – the European Organization for Nuclear Research – was assaulted. Several scientists were injured, thousands of terabytes of information stolen, as well as several key components to their Large Hadron Collider.”

 “Something this high profile sounds like someone from the League should be handling it,” Kaldur frowned.

“Sounds more like the League’s idea to keep us from trying to find Robin.” Superboy clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles cracked.

“You truly believe that?” Red Tornado asked.

The tense group was suddenly interrupted by a pair of shouts from the rec room. “CADMUS!!”

Kid Flash was then standing among them holding out the paper filled with Artemis’ writing, the archer’s running footsteps echoing toward them. 

“It’s Cadmus,” Wally said, oblivious to the league member in the room. “Rob’s message was ‘Cadmus’.”

“As in Cadmus Labs?” the clone of Superman was seething in rage.

“He tapped it out twice,” Artemis said breathlessly as she entered the room. “When I looked back at the image of the two shadows off camera it made sense. One had a gold head-”

“Guardian,” Kaldur speculated.

The archer nodded and continued, “- and the other looked like it was wearing a severely horned cowl.”

“Dubbilex.” Superboy was tempted to storm out of the room and make his way to his former ‘home’ but a gentle hand on his arm stopped him. He looked to M’gann and her soft, comforting smile.

Kaldur turned his attention back to Red Tornado. “My apologies to you and the League, but my team and I will be going after our friend.”

“Perhaps you would like to hear the rest of the debriefing before you make your decision.” The machine opened a file on brought an image. “This was captured from CERN security cameras.”

Wally’s jaw dropped open. “Are those…”

“Genomorphs,” the chaperone nodded, opening several more images. “Unless Cadmus is hiring out their genetically-engineered lifeforms, it would appear as if the abduction of Robin was not their only goal.”

“The League knew this,” M’gann glanced at her team mates. “And they still want us to investigate?”

Red Tornado shook his head. “Not the League.”

“Then who?” Artemis asked.

“Batman.”

Chapter Text

“I should have known he would have seen it,” Wally commented to Artemis as the Martian’s Bio-ship was pushed to its limits as they flew toward DC.

“World’s Greatest Detective,” the blonde had her bow across her lap and she plucked at the sting nervously.  “Of course he’s going to pick out Robin’s Morse code. It’s not like Robin would be trying to send us a message. He’d want big daddy bats to come save the day.”

“No,” Kaldur said from his seat next to M’gann. “He would know that the situation would hinder Batman. The means may have been something Batman would have recognized first, but Robin would no doubt understand that we would be the ones coming to his aid.”

“You honestly think he was thinking that straight?” Superboy shook his head in disbelief. “I’m still surprised he was able to get out what he did.”

“You don’t know Rob very well, then,” Kid Flash glared at the clone. “He’s been working with Bats for years, a hell of a lot longer than Kal and I have been doing this hero gig combined. He’s been beaten to hell and back, nearly killed at least a dozen times, and he’s always got his head together.”

“He’s just a kid,” Superboy insisted.

“And what does that make you, or us?” Artemis asked with an arched eyebrow. “We’re not that much older than him and you’re only a few months old as it is!”

“But he acts so much like a child,” Megan said quietly as she concentrated on controlling her ship.

“That’s because he’s finally out of Bat’s shadow.” Wally smiled at the memory that played through his mind. “I remember the first time I met him. Came across them in Central city one time just after I started working with the Flash. Apparently my uncle asked Batman to give him a hand with this drug ring he was trying to bust up. But whatever... I was so in awe; I was meeting THE Batman and THE Robin. They were both so serious, and intimidating and downright frightening. I nearly peed myself when Rob started telling my uncle and Batman what to do. I thought Bats was going to smack him or something, but the guy just nodded and took off like Rob had suggested. Next thing I knew, Rob was looking over at me, gave me a little smirk, and vanished what that damn irritating laugh of his!”

Kid Flash lost his smile and slumped in his seat, turning his head to look out the window.

The minutes passed slowly, each member focused on the recovery of their lost team mate. The thirty minutes flight from Happy Harbor to the country’s capital seemed to take forever, yet when Miss Martian announced their approach Artemis was surprised to see it had taken less than twenty.

“Entering camouflage mode,” M’gann provided as the bio ship descended over the city and swept across the sky. “We’ll reach Cadmus Labs in five... four.... three... two... it’s gone!”

The ship stopped suddenly, hovering over an empty lot. Kaldur’ahm was out of his seat and looking out the window an instant later. He glanced over at Kid Flash who stood next to him. “They demolished the building.”

“Not like there was all that much left standing,” Superman growled, oddly proud of that fact.

Wally shook his head in confusion. “Why would Robin tell us ‘Cadmus’ then? He’d know we’d come look here first.”

“Maybe there’s something down there we’re missing?” Artemis suggested, not wanting to believe it had been a wild goose chase either.

“Take us down, Miss Martian.”

Once on the ground the teens wasted no time disembarking the bio ship and splitting up to search the area. Cadmus Labs had once taken up nearly an entire city block, but after the four original members of Young Justice had gotten through with it there really wasn’t all that much left.

Superboy felt an uneasy desire to get out of there as fast as humanly possible – Kid Flash humanly. His skin seemed to crawl with things he’d rather forget as he walked around, eyes gazing at everything and nothing. There really was nothing there, just a small copse of trees to the south-eastern most corner of the lot.

The trees... there was something about those trees...

“Where are you going, Supe?” Wally asked the clone as he walked by the speedster. Superboy moved stiffly, mechanically, and he didn’t respond to the redhead’s question. “Kal, something’s up with Superboy!”

Kaldur’ahm snapped his head around, his eyes roaming the lot until he saw what the other boy was talking about. The shout had drawn the girls’ attention as well, and immediately the four other members of Young Justice were hurrying after Superman’s clone.  Kid Flash, naturally, got there first.

“Hey, SB, what’s gotten in to you?” Kid Flash stopped next to the dark haired teen.

Superboy was knelt in freshly disturbed soil and staring at the ground intently. As the others joined them, he blinked a few times and suddenly realized what was going on. He frowned, literally growled, and lifted his glare to the branches above them. In the shadows of the leaves crouched one of the smallest G-gnomes, its tiny horns glowing.

Megan gasped when she saw the creature, her own telepathic senses expanding instinctively and breaking the thing’s contact with Superboy’s mind. It turned its crimson orbs to the Martian, and their thoughts merged.

Miss Martian went rigid, her body teetering until Kaldur steadied her. “M’gann, what is wrong?”

“It – it’s showing me!” the girl never took her eyes off the creatures. “It’s still here, the Lab, just hidden.”

“Underground,” Artemis guessed and the other girl nodded. “So how do we get down there?”

“We do not,” M’gann shook her head sadly. “It is unable to tell me that, but it was left behind, knowing we would be coming for Robin.”

“Are you really going to trust that thing?” Superboy snarled, angry at having been controlled again. “It’s probably a trap, or a trick to keep us from going down there and finding Robin!”

“No,” Megan shook her head sadly. “No, it’s not a trap. Robin is no longer here.”

“But he was?” Wally perked up at that, looking up at the g-gnome hopefully.

“He was taken out by helicopter just after sunrise,” the telepath told the group. “I – I don’t think it knows where. It keep projecting cities; New York, Gotham, Geneva, Star City, Metropolis. I don’t understand.”

“Maybe they’re the other Cadmus Lab locations?” Artemis said.

“Face it,” Superboy started to walk away. “This is a dead end and we’re no closer to finding Robin then we were before we got it.”

“Wait,” Aqualad grabbed the boy’s arm. “Why would this thing be waiting for us, confirming that Robin was here as we thought?”

“How do we know he was?” Superboy spun around and levelled the g-gnome with a vicious look. “These things can get in your head, make you do things-”

“I don’t see you doing a jig in a pink tutu,” Artemis rolled her eyes. “I highly doubt Guardian would leave this thing behind to tease us. Sportsmaster, maybe, but he’s just an ass.”

“So what do we do?” Wally crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you trust the wacky little monkey, try to figure what it’s trying to tell us, or go back to the Cave no better than we were an hour ago?”

“We should take it with us,” M’gann said, finally looking to her comrades. The g-gnome leapt from the tree branch and landed easily on Miss Martian’s shoulder. “I sense no ill intent from it. We may be able to get more from it.”

Superboy snorted derisively. “For all we know, that thing is your head telling you to tell us that.”

Megan’s eyes flared white as she turned a dangerous glare to the clone. Her voice thundered in her team mate’s thoughts. **I was able to keep Psimon from destroying our minds; I think I am capable of defending my mind from the telepathic manipulations of this g-gnome! If you really don’t trust ME, my mind is open you Superboy, come and see for yourself!**

“We trust you,” Artemis added a glower of her own to her friend’s toward Superboy. “If you say that thing is showing you fact, then I’m all good for figuring out the next step.”

“As are we all,” Kaldur’ahm agreed. “Since we are unable to gain access to the Labs below to investigate, we will have to rely on whatever information we can garner from this creature. But back at the Cave.”

“Perhaps my Uncle J’onn can get more from the g-gnome than I can.”

“He’ll be going against the League if he helps,” Artemis stated.

“He will want to help,” Megan insisted. “I know he will.”

.

.

.

.

.

The skyline of Star City at night always managed to take the breath from him. Red Arrow stood atop one of the turrets of the suspension bridge across the bay the city had arisen around. He stared across the water at the many skyscrapers that illuminated the near midnight sky. It was turning out to be a relatively quiet night, and after the previous twenty four hours he was all for quiet.

The news from Gotham hadn’t reached the West Coast when Oliver called and told Roy about Bruce Wayne’s ward’s abduction. It had been a couple years since Roy had seen the kid, but they had kept in touch somewhat. Bruce and Oliver, however, were as close as two of ‘America’s Wealthiest and Youngest Playboys’ could be. They were friends of a sort, and it was understandable that Oliver would want to help the man get his son back.

Green Arrow had asked his once protégé to keep an eye on Star City until the situation out east was rectified. It showed Roy that Oliver trusted him and his skill to watch out for their town. It would have been even better if the man had stopped checking in with him. He rolled his eyes as his communicator signalled another incoming call and he reluctantly answered.

Oliver’s face came onto the small screen. “Anything going on?”

Red Arrow shook his head. “A couple of wannabe thugs hit the My Chemical Romance concert; the band went on again even before the cops showed up to make the arrests.”

“Sorry you had to miss it,” a wry grin touched the blonde’s lips. “I know those tickets cost you an arm and a leg.”

The young hero shrugged. “I still managed to get their autographs.” He smirked at the thought of the names permanently scrawled across his quiver. “Look, Ollie, I’d appreciate it if you relaxed. I can handle anything this city throws at me for a few days.”

“I never said you couldn’t, Roy,” the senior archer sighed across the airwaves. “You’ll forgive me if I’m a little anxious. Richard’s kidnapping has me on edge, alright?”

“I’m fine,” Roy actually smiled affectionately at his foster father. “The ransom junkies know better than to come after Roy Harper after the last time. I know how to protect myself.”

Oliver chuckled at the memory. “You ruptured that guy’s testicles.”

“No one’s tried to kidnap me since,” Roy shrugged innocently. After a second, the levity left him and he sighed. “How’s Mr Wayne going?”

“The kidnappers delivered their demands last night... along with proof that they have Dick.”

Roy shuddered. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“The shirt he was wearing when taken, cut to shreds.”

“Ouch... And there’s nothing Green Arrow can do?”

“Bruce needs a friend, not a vigilante.” Green Arrow had a knowing smirk at his next comment. “Besides, I hear Batman has taken a person interest in the case. He’s gone as far as to go off the grid with Gotham City Police, as well as the Justice League, to investigate.”

“I’d believe it. Which surprises me that the League isn’t doing more to help, seeing as this is the son of one of their biggest private financial backers.”

Oliver shook his head. “Yeah, well, most of the League doesn’t know that. To them, he’s just Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy who cares more about his flavour of the month than his own son.”

“Shows what they know,” Roy looked out over at the quiet city. “Did you want me to come to Gotham? It’s been a couple of years since I’ve actually seen Dick, but I’d like to help however I can.”

“You know Batman’s not keen on having other heroes in his city. I appreciate the offer, but you’re doing the best thing you can right now: keeping Star City safe while I keep Bruce sane.”

“Then stop checking on me,” Red Arrow instinctively tensed as a text message flashed across the screen. “I’ve got to go. A silent alarm was just tripped at Queen Industries North offices.”

“The R&D division’s the only thing housed there.”

“I’ll check in with you in a couple hours when I know what’s going on.”

“Alright,” Oliver didn’t hesitate as he continued. “Please be careful.”

Red Arrow smiled. “Aren’t I always?”

It took the young hero nearly forty-five minutes to get to the industrial district across the city.

The alarm had yet to be cleared, which was unusual since onsite Queen Industries Security should have responded by now. As he approached the building he felt an uneasy trepidation niggling at his instincts; a feeling that his mentor had taught him to trust early in his training. There was something other hand a typical break-in going on…

Roy didn’t worry about setting off any alarms when he entered a secured door using the codes Oliver had given him. He wasn’t far from the security room and when he entered he discovered the reason for the alarm still being active.

The six guards on duty that night were unconscious, bound and gagged on the floor. He quickly checked their pulses, relieved to find each one strong and steady. Whoever had brought them down did it quickly enough that they couldn’t get the distress call out to the police.

As he was reaching for a blade to cut through the ropes, movement on the monitors caught his attention. Several small shadowed shapes were running through the darkness on the eighth floor. Realizing the thieves were still in the building, Roy silently apologized to the guards and sped out of the room. Taking the stairs two and three at a time, Red Arrow prepared himself for the confrontation. He had the chance to stop the would-be robbers and he wasn’t about to let Ollie down.

The corridor leading away from the stairwell was near black, only the emergency lights casting their faint glow and deepening the shadows. He kept to the wall, a concussion arrow knocked across his bow and the string pulled taught and crept forward. Ahead he could see through the observation glass into one of the labs and recognized it as the Space & Aeronautics division.

A handful of the small shadows he had seen were moving about the lab quickly, some gathering items while others leapt onto the computers and equipment. It became apparent that they were after not only some of the prototypes but the tech and data to go with them.

Roy was closer to the lab now and cautiously crept through the already opened door. He was raising the bow, lining the arrow up for a shot, when he found out the little thieves weren’t the only ones there.

“Ah, ah, ah,” a voice sounded from the office off to the side. “It would not be wise to disturb them.”

In a flash the arrow was up and aimed and Red Arrow was spinning around to address the larger threat. The man in the dark blue jump suit and golden helmet was standing casually against the wall next to the office door. He didn’t seem surprised to see Roy nor did he look to be threatened in the least by the archer’s arrow aimed toward him.

“Guardian?” Roy raised an eyebrow curiously beneath his mask. “You do realize you’re on the wrong side of the law on this one, right?”

The one-time hero sighed. “Yes, unfortunately I do. However, certain sacrifices must be made for the greater good, something all heroes should understand, young Speedy.”

“Its Red Arrow now,” the teen snapped automatically.

“Of course,” the helmet tipped to the side apologetically. “I had heard you had taken your leave from your mentor in recent months. You are, what is it now, eighteen? An adult in the eyes of the law; old enough to make your own decision. So what of it, Red Arrow, are you of an age to make the hard decisions? To make the sacrifices necessary to be a hero; to stop me?”

“Whatever it takes, old timer.”

A second voice laughed, cruel and taunting. “I’d think about that real hard if I were you boy.”

Keeping the arrow aimed at one threat, Roy glanced toward the newcomer. His heart leapt against his chest while the blood seemed to freeze in his veins. “No…!”

Sportsmaster stood away from the rest, having been hidden in the shadows of the large machines, one hand easily gripping the handle of a vicious looking hunting knife. His other hand was clamped tightly over the mouth of the familiar figure held against the man’s chest. Robin’s hands were obviously secured behind his back and Roy couldn’t miss the fact that the younger boy was barefoot and missing several key components of his costume.

The mercenary coolly forced his hostage’s head back, exposing the throat, and let the edge of the blade rest dangerously against the pulsing artery there. Robin stiffened, and so did Roy.

The arrow tracked of its own volition, bringing its deadly aim to the dead-man-walking threatening his friend. When Red Arrow found his voice, it was cold and hard as it had ever been. “Let. Him. Go.”

“Umm,” Sportsmaster’s eyes nearly glowed with amusement, “no.”

“This is one of those decisions,” Guardian was suddenly beside him, though made no other move. “You do not know what we are after here, what we are planning to use it for, and yet, are you willing to sacrifice his life just for the attempt at stopping us? You are young, skilled, there is a chance you could defeat the both of us. But even Superman would be unable to stop my associate from slicing through Robin’s throat like it was butter.”

Roy’s mouth went dry. He could see himself reflected in the lenses of Robin’s domino mask and felt the boy’s unseen gaze on him. This wasn’t some random hostage, this was Robin! Batman’s protégé! How the hell did these creeps get their hands on him?!

In the end, he realized it didn’t matter.

With arms shaking he released the tension on the bowstring and brought the weapon down. Robin started yelling against the leathered palm, fighting as much as he could until the deadly blade reminded him to be still. Roy couldn’t look at his friend and turned his head away when he felt Guardian place one hand on his shoulder while the man reached around and took the bow from the archer’s hands.

“Good lad.”

Red Arrow winced when the bow was suddenly snapped and the arrow clattered to the floor. Fighting his instincts, he didn’t resist at all when his quiver was taken from him.  His gloves were stripped from his wrists before they were bound together with the string from his bow. He was searched thoroughly, Guardian’s hands missing nothing that was hidden in his uniform. A moment later he was pulled into the office and forced to his knees.

Sportsmaster dragged Robin in behind them and shoved the boy roughly to the floor, away from the bound archer. “Behave while I finish up out here.”

“Asshole,” Robin muttered after the mercenary.

“Language,” Guardian scolded, moving around the desk.

“Rob, you okay?” Roy asked as he watched Guardian rip a handful of cords and cables from one of the computers.

“Oh yeah,” the Boy Wonder snarled as he struggled into a sitting position. “Best vacation ever.”

The redhead looked at the other captive closely. Robin’s wrists were wrapped in heavy bandages before being bound with what appeared to be thick leather cuffs connected together with a small chain. A few bruises were visible, welts raised the skin on his exposed ankles, and his lips were swollen and scabbed over in several places. “What have they done to you?”

“Nothing that wasn’t warranted,” Guardian said, his hands falling onto Roy’s shoulders.

“Warranted?!” The teen grunted as he was pushed forward to his stomach. A heavy knee to his lower back kept him in place while the gathered cords were used to lash his legs together above and below the knees. Next his ankles were bound and pulled up toward his torso and a cable strung between them and his wrists to leave him hogtied on the floor.

“Hey!” Robin shouted indignantly on Roy’s behalf as a dozen lengths of computer cable were looped between Roy’s lips and connected to the bindings on his wrists. “Hey, come on! That could kill him!”

The archer’s head was pulled back uncomfortably and any movement of his arms or legs caused the discomfort to increase. He wouldn’t be getting out of this on his own.

“Only if he struggles,” Guardian finished by guiding the trussed up teen on to his side. “Someone will find him come morning and cut him loose.”

“No!” Robin snarled, leaping easily to his feet and stalking toward them.

“Nngh!” Roy tried to get the boy to stop, but was Robin was not listening.

“This has gone far enough! I’m not going to let you hurt him!”

Red Arrow could only watch as the boy shifted his weight to the balls of his feet and spun into the air, aiming a heel toward the man’s chest. He yelled through the make-shift gag as Guardian caught the foot easily and slammed Robin to the ground.

Guardian picked up the breathless bird and gripped him by the throat, holding him dangling off the floor. “Must we go through this every day, Robin?”

“Rrbnn!” Roy watched on in horror as Robin’s feet kicked frantically at Guardian as the life was literally being choked out of him. He growled at his inability to do anything and felt the angry tears prickling his eyes as the kicks lessened as his friend weakened.

“Temper, temper, Jim,” Sportsmaster chuckled in amusement from where he appeared in the doorway. “Really, letting him get to you like that…”

As if realizing what he was doing, the helmeted man released his hold on Robin and the younger teen fell to the floor next to Roy.

Red was relieved to hear his friend’s wheezing coughs as he tried to get the oxygen back into his lungs. Robin’s lips had begun to turn blue and the colour started coming back to them when Sportsmaster picked him up and draped him over a shoulder like he was nothing.

“Be seeing ya, Speedy,” the mercenary jeered and then left, taking the captive Robin with him.

Guardian paused, seeming to hesitate, before looking down at the bound archer. “It’s only a few hours until the morning cleaning crew will be here. They will find the security guards on the first floor and the police will be notified. It shouldn’t be long after that before someone finds you.”

The gag muffled the curses Roy spat at him.

The lights were turned off as the man left and a moment later he could hear the outer door close and lock.

He closed his eyes, breathing heavily through his nose as he tried to calm down.  Letting his head rest against the floor, Roy tried not to think of Robin still in their clutches.

Guardian was a Hero; at least he had been a while ago. To watch the man nearly choke his small friend to death was not something he’d soon forget. And as for the other guy, Sportsmaster…

Sportsmaster, he was how they got to Robin! He was the only creep with a connection to Young Justice and there was no doubt in Roy’s mind that the little bitch had betrayed his friends. At that thought, his body instinctively flexed his limbs in an attempt to free himself and he choked on the gag for a few painful seconds before he was able to relax.

He growled and fought to keep his muscles as loose as possible.

When he got out of here, there were a lot of people who would be answering his questions.

Starting with Artemis Crock.

Chapter Text

By the time he was strapped into his seat on the helicopter, Robin had finally gotten his breath back. His head was still spinning but at least the blinding black and white splotches that had overtaken his field of vision had cleared.  Sportsmaster was chuckling behind his mask and patted the boy on the head, none to gently either, before climbing into the pilot’s seat of the aircraft.

The g-gnomes were next, scampering in excitedly with their pilfered things. Robin narrows his eyes as he recognized some of them for what they were. One was a new compressor that QI was developing to lessen the pressure gradient on human lungs when in outer space. He narrowed his eyes beneath the mask as he wondered what they could possible want with that.

Guardian slid the door shut behind him and shat on the leather bench across from the boy hostage.  Nothing was said as the mercenary started the machine and it lifted into the night air. Several minutes later, Sportsmaster set the auto pilot and climbed into the back with them.

“I find myself in a quandary.” Guardian sighed, releasing his seat belt as Sportsmaster sat next to him. “I am tempted to return to Star City and eliminate the witness.”

“You mean Speedy,” Robin growled, tugging at the cuffs binding his wrists almost habitually now.

“Red Arrow, now,” Sportsmaster snickered. “Original.”

“It’s an empty threat, either way,” Robin snapped, ignoring the merc and turning his scowl to the helmeted man. “You know it, and I know it. You waited. You could have been in and out in minutes, but you purposefully set off that alarm and waited until someone showed up. It could have been the cops, it could have been Green Arrow, it could have been anyone but it was Red and you played him like you would have played anyone else.”

The two men glanced at each other.

“He’s right,” Sportsmaster snarled, fingering the knife strapped to his thigh. “You made me bring him into the building, which was unnecessary unless you knew someone was going to need persuading.”

“N-no,” Guardian shook his head, eyes alight with confusion. “No, that’s not-”

“So, Guardian, after you got out from under Dr Desmond’s mind controlling little monkey, how long after did you start acting like a super villain wannabe?” The teen’s infamous giggle sounded lightly in the interior of the copter. “I’d place top dollar that whatever subliminal programming they left behind is sta-”

The heavy fist of Guardian struck without warning.

Robin’s head snapped to the side and he felt a crunch in his mouth as his teeth gave beneath the blow. Blood filled his mouth and he spit it and the tooth that preceded it onto the carpeted floor of the helicopter. He stared at the broken molar before glaring back at the former hero. “Hit a nerve, did I?”

Sportsmaster leapt between the two the instant before Guardian was on his feet. He pushed the man back down to his seat. “Whoa there, Jim, we’re not done with him yet.”

The man’s nostrils were flaring as he glared daggers at their captive, his breathing erratic as he tried to regain control.

“He is yours, Sportsmaster.”

Robin felt the blood seep from the corner of his mouth while he watched the satisfied gleam entered the mercenary’s eyes.

Guardian sat back down, his death-glare never leaving the boy. “When he has served his purpose in Metropolis, you can do with him as you wish.”

“Breathing?”

A shudder travelled Dick’s spine at Guardian’s response.

“Unnecessary.”

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Once, Superman would have entered Wayne Manor via the Zeta Beam into the Batcave, but with the numerous reports that had set up camp outside the property fence, he wouldn’t be able to explain his sudden appearance should he be spotted. It was for that reason that Clark Kent was reaching through the back window of the cab only a few feet from the main gate in the middle of the night.

He felt the eyes of the other reporters watching him as he pressed the button on the intercom and a moment later Alfred’s voice inquired who was calling. “It’s Clark, Alfred.”

“Ah, yes,” The butler said across the speaker, coolly. “Master Bruce said to expect you sometime this evening.”

The tone of the usually pleasant man’s voice did not bode well for the disguised man of steel.

The gate swung open and a minute later the cab was driving back down the long drive, having dropped Clark and his bag off outside the main door to Wayne Manor.  Bruce was waiting inside the main foyer to greet him.

“What do you want, Kent?” demanded Batman.

Definitely not boding well. “I’m here to help, Bruce.”

“The League has no business being here,” the billionaire snarled. “You made that very clear back in the Cave; and again last night when you ordered Young Justice to NOT pursue Sportsmaster despite; and again this morning when I went to you with the possible connection to the CERN assault. So what are you doing here, now?”

“Damn it, Bruce!” Clark exclaimed. “You helped form the League! You know as well as I do that-” 

“Screw the League!” Batman was suddenly toe to toe with the reported. “This is my son, goddammit!”

“He’s important to me too! You don’t think I want to be out there razing the entire country trying to find him?”

“Then why aren’t you! Why aren’t you razing the entire country trying to get him back?”

“Because it’s not just about him,” Clark deflated somewhat. “The truth is, Bruce, is that he’s just one boy. Albeit a very special boy, but with the discovery of his civilian identity, Robin’s kidnapping could potentially expose us all. If the media gets winds of the connection between Bruce Wayne’s adopted son and Batman’s sidekick, it won’t be long before the whole house of cards crumbles around the entire League.”

“So sacrifice the one for the needs of the many?”

Superman tensed, hearing the deadly calm in the other man’s voice for what it was. “If we must.”

Bruce’s fist was flying before Clark was ready for it, and therefor unable to temper his reaction to keep the other man from hurting himself. To his credit, Batman didn’t cry out when the bones in his hands nearly shattered against the jaw of the man of steel. Even though the blow didn’t even faze him, Clark was stunned.

Bruce Wayne had never stuck Clark Kent before.

“Master Wayne!” Alfred was there in a flash, pulling his charge away from the confrontation to tend to the hand. After a few steps, the gentleman’s gentleman stopped and stared hard at Clark. “I think it best if you find a hotel to stay in for the time being, Mr. Kent.”

“Of course, Alfred,” Clark nodded.

“There was a time when I didn’t trust anyone,” Bruce said quietly, his back still to his friend. “The League – every one of you – used to put it up to my paranoia. Maybe you were right, but it didn’t ever stop me from finding out everything I ever needed to know to protect myself from betrayal.”

Clark didn’t understand what the man was getting at, not until Batman finally turned his emotionless glare on to him.

“Young Justice is my team, Superman; always has been. They’ve been investigating one their own, and with what I’ve given them, they’re already on Sportsmaster’s trail. But I promise you this: If dick doesn’t come home, no force on or off this earth will stop me from going after those responsible.”

Superman swallowed around the sudden lead weight in his stomach. “Bruce-”

“And I’ll start with the Justice League.”

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The roof was quiet and the descending aircraft did not alter that. The young Martian’s bio ship was silent as it cut through the night and landed effortlessly on the tar and gravel of the Queen Industries building. The sun was still a couple hours from the horizon and in the black of night a figure stepped out to greet the disembarking young heroes. 

“There he is,” Aqualad drew the attention of his team to the approaching archer.

“I was just about to go in,” Green Arrow told them. “Did Batman fill you in?”

The Atlantean leader shook his head. “Only that we were to reroute to this location.”

“I’ll debrief on our way down,” Oliver said, turning toward the roof access door, leaving the teens to follow or get left behind.  

“A little after midnight a silent alarm was tripped here,” the senior hero explained as they took the stairs down. The man was tense, his concern for his ward evident with every word.  “Speedy – I mean Red Arrow – came to investigate. He was going to report back to me what he found but he never did. Then the Martian Manhunter got in touch with Batman, told him about the little pet you kids brought back from Cadmus.”

“Uncle J’onn was the one to figure out what the g-gnome was trying to tell us,” M’gann said proudly.

“New York, Gotham, Geneva, Star City, Metropolis,” Artemis recited the list of cities. “There was a break-in at the New York City College of Technology the day before Robin’s addiction from Gotham, then the assault at the facility in Geneva Switzerland the same day.”

“Best guess was they were to your neck of the woods next,” Wally told the man.

“Yes, Batman figured the same,” Oliver stopped at the eighth floor. “And when Roy still hadn’t reported in with me we couldn’t help but wonder if it was connected.”

“You think they took him too?” Superboy asked.

Green gloved hands clenched into fists. “For their sake they better not have. It’s bad enough they’ve taken one of ours already, but Guardian will have to know that he’d risk the full League’s involvement if they were to take another. Roy may have gone solo, but he’s still my ward and unlike Bruce our identities are not as high a secret. Everyone on the League roster knows who we are.”

The door was opened and the group stepped into the darkened corridor. Unknown to them, they walked the same path as the missing archer only hours before.

“This is Queen Industries Research and Development building, this floor specific for Air and Space research. The alarm originated here.”

“Do a sweep, Miss Martian,” Kaldur ordered.

The girl nodded and her eyes glowed white for a few minutes. She blinked, the orbs reverting back, and she shook her head. “There are a few guards on the first floor – one’s worried about losing his job once they’re untied – but I’m not sensing anyone conscious on this level.”

“But there could be someone here?” Wally’s anxiety at the thought of having lost another friend to these creeps filled his question.

“Yes, just unconscious.”

“Split up?” Artemis asked, drawing her bow and knocking an arrow.

“Pair up,” Aqualad and Green Arrow said at the same time. Kaldur hesitated only a brief second before his upbringing had him bowing his head slightly to the older man. “My apologies, Green Arrow.”

The blonde raised a hand to stop the boy. “No need. They are your team. As the League cannot be involved in your mission, I will defer to your command. Just know that Roy is my first priority.”

“Understandable, Sir,” Aqualad nodded before addressing Young Justice. “Pair up, no one goes off alone. Kid Flash and Superboy, take the south corridors; Miss Martian, link us up and follow Green Arrow to the north; Artemis, you’re with me and we’ll take the offices and labs in this section.”

**Everyone stay in contact,** the team leader said once the telepathic link had been established.

The others acknowledge the commands and went off as assigned.

Artemis kept her arrow drawn and stepped in just behind Aqualad as they approached the observations glass to the labs in the immediate area. She watched her leader closely, noticing the tenseness in his shoulders and subtle quickening of his steps. It was then she recalled that Red Arrow wasn’t just a former sidekick, he was a friend. Robin, Kid Flash, Speedy and Aqualad had known each other for years. Aqualad wasn’t just looking for a clue, he was looking for another friend who might be in trouble.

As they entered the main room of the lab, Artemis found herself feeling sorry for Wally and Kaldur should anything happen to either missing hero.

**Stay close,** Kaldur reminded her as they stepped further into the room.

They didn’t get far when Artemis saw the arrow laying partially obscured beneath one of the tables. **Aqualad, here.**

**What did you find?** Superboy’s voice sounded in their minds as the girl couched to retrieve the projectile.

**Looks like one of Roy’s arrows,** Kaldur replied anxiously as he stood just behind her.

**It’s still armed,** Artemis pointed out to the Atlantean, **so it wasn’t fired**

“Artemis,” Aqualad jerked his head toward something off to her side.

She swore venomously when she eyed the pieces of the broken bow. As a fellow archer she knew what it would take to be separated from her bow, let alone for it to end up broken. Unfortunately, the curse was echoed in her thoughts and thus into the minds of the rest of the team.

**I’m on my way,** Oliver stated briefly.

“At least we know he was here,” Artemis tried to assure the now pale looking Aqualad. Apparently, he too understood the meaning of the broken bow.

“Yet where is he now?” Kaldur gathered himself and motioned around the room. “Look around, there might be something else here.”

A gust of wind rattled a few of the component in the room and announced the arrival of Kid Flash. Superboy was right behind him and without being told they spread out throughout the lab to help search.

A few seconds later, Superboy’s sudden stop was noticed by Artemis. “What is it, Supe?”

He held up a finger to his lips, closing his eyes and tilting his lips the same moment Miss Martian and Green Arrow arrived in the lab. “There’s another heartbeat. I didn’t hear it until it accelerated just now.”

Megan’s eyes flared again briefly. “Someone is in there,” she motioned to the partially opened door to the dark office. “His thoughts are too frantic for me to recognize-”

She didn’t get to finish before Green Arrow was pushing the door open. The light was flicked on and the relief was forefront with his exclamation. “Roy!”

Inside the black, Red Arrow had fallen into an exhausted sleep at some point during his captivity when a cool breeze and the sound of movement woke him. Someone was outside in the lab. He tried to call out to them despite the cords gagging him, but his throat was too dry to produce any noise. His heart was racing in his chest as he desperately tried to think of ways to get the attention of whoever it was.

That is, until Oliver was suddenly blinding him by turning on the light and deafening him by shouting at him.

The older archer had a blade in hand the instant he stepped into the room and was next to his ward’s side in seconds. He swore as he took in the vicious way the teen was bound. “I’ll have you loose in a minute,” he told the boy as he started to saw carefully at the cable strung between the wrists and gag.

“Let me,” Superboy was suddenly beside them and snapped the cords easily.

The muscles of Roy’s neck twinged with pain at the sudden release, but he was grateful none the less as the clone broke the cable between his wrists and ankles while Oliver withdrew the cords from between his lips. His limbs were free in seconds and he was being helped into a sitting position, his back supported by a nearby desk.

“Are you hurt?” Green Arrow asked, eyes roaming over the young archer for injuries as the boy rubbed at his wrists to get the blood flowing again.

“No,” Roy managed to croak. Almost instantly he was accepting a paper cone of water from Kid Flash. He drank greedily, uncomfortably aware of the many sets of eyes watching him.

“Dude, what happened?” The speedster asked.

 “I came here, thinking I’d stop a robbery in progress, only to find out the thieves had a hostage.” An accusatory glare froze the other redhead to the spot. “Why didn’t you tell me about Rob?”

Wally flinched and looked away. “I-”

“There has not been time,” Kaldur tried to explain. “We have been tracking him and his kidnappers since he was taken.”

“Which hasn’t exactly been easy,” Artemis said from where she stood.

Seeing the blonde archer, Roy saw red.

Moving quicker than his weary body should have allowed, Red Arrow surged to his feet and was across the room before anyone could react. He gripped the by the collar of her shirt and slammed the petit girl up against the wall.

She shrieked, eyes wide with fright, at the intensity of the hatred in the eyes glaring at her.

“I warned you what would happen if you ever hurt my friends!”

“Roy, stop it!” Oliver was next to him, Superboy along with him, prying the weakened boy easily off the terrified girl.

“No!” He shouted, jerking against their hold to no avail. “I want to know why she did it; why give Robin over to him?!”

“I didn’t!” She exclaimed, fully understanding what he was alluding to.

“Dude, stop it!” Wally sped to Artemis’ side and steadied the shaking girl. “She fought Sportsmaster! She tried to stop him!”

“I’m sure she put on a very convincing performance!” Red Arrow snarled. “But I find it hard to believe that she would stand with a team she’s only been a part of for a couple of weeks against her own father!”

Artemis choked on a sob and buried her face in her hands, turning away from her team mates as silence fell heavily around them.

Oliver sighed. “It wasn’t like that, Roy.”

The young man pulled away from his former mentor’s grip, Superboy’s having gone lax with the sudden revelation. “Then tell me what it was like.”

“Robin was taken as a civilian.” Kaldur’ahm said quietly, watching Artemis closely.

“And she just happened to be there? Yeah, it wasn’t anything like that at all.”

“I didn’t know,” She moaned and finally faced her accuser, tears flowing from beneath her mask. “I didn’t, I swear, I didn’t know who Dick was until he was taken!”

It was Roy’s turn to be stunned, the dots finally starting to connect. “Wait, Dick?” He glanced at Green Arrow who at least had the decency to look apologetic. “As in my friend, Richard Grayson? The very same Dick who was kidnapped and is being ransomed back to his father?!”

“Whoa, there,” Superboy caught the teen as Roy wavered and his knees buckled.

Oliver sidled up beside Red Arrow and draped one his ward’s arms over his shoulders, taking him from the clone. “Okay, Artemis, come with me and Roy. The rest of you finish up here. We’re going to take him back to the bio ship, check him over, and then the seven of us are going to have a very thorough talk on our way to Metropolis.”

“What’s in Metropolis?” Roy asked, to overwhelm to really process what was going on.

“The theft here just proves that they were on the right track,” Green Arrow nodded his head in gestures toward the Young Justice Team, including Artemis. “Now we just need to figure out what Sportsmaster and Guardian are going after in Metropolis and maybe then we can end this and get Robin back.”

Chapter Text

Despite the ability to alter its form, there was not room enough inside the Martian Bio-Ship for a proper med bay. The seat that Roy was helped into had, with a thought from the ship’s pilot, been reclined and the young man was thankful to be able to stretch out and to get off his burning muscles.  He closed his eyes, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to relieve some of the pressure building in his head.

He felt Green Arrow’s hand on his shoulder squeeze lightly. “Were you hurt?”

Without bothering to open his eyes, Red Arrow shook his head. “Didn’t even put up a fight,” he huffed his frustration.  “Sportsmaster had a knife to Rob’s throat. I couldn’t-” The hand tightened when his voice cracked. He swallowed to moisten his suddenly dry throat. “I’m just sore, cramped, from being tied up like that.”

“There’s a med kit in my office that’ll have some ointment and muscle relaxants,” Oliver told him quietly.

“I can go get it,” Artemis offered quietly from the side.

“No,” Oliver declined. “It’ll be quicker if I just go. Can I trust that you two won’t kill each other before I get back?”

Red Arrow just sighed. “Be quick.”

“We’ll be fine,” was Artemis’ subdued answer

Light, but rapid, footsteps signalled the eldest archer’s departure and the atmosphere in the ship became so tense it was palpable. Roy wanted to ignore it, but he could feel her staring at him. He was about to growl at her to stop when he suddenly felt her hands on his left leg.

Hissing at the pain his sudden spasm of surprise caused, he snapped his eyes open and was startled to see her standing next to him with her mask off. “What the hell are you doing?” He snarled as she started to move her fingers over his leg.

“You think you know me so completely,” She responded, her tone as nasty as his own. He opened his mouth to say something, but the breath and words were lost to him as she started to apply pressure to his aching muscles.  “You think because you know who my daddy is, that because he’s a sadistic bastard out for only himself I’m just like him. He may have taught me a thing or two about weapons and fighting and the best way to kill a man, but he was not the one who raised me!”

Her touch was like fire, and Roy grit his teeth as the pain was becoming nearly intolerable. His hand clenched into a fist he was about to let fly when with one last wave of agony, it was gone.

Every ache, pain, and twinge he had felt in his leg was completely gone. Artemis reached over him, her fingers digging into the meat of his muscled right leg, and he watched her closely as she ministered the same treatment. When the pain was suddenly gone in that leg as well she sat on the edge of the chair beside him and took his upper left arm in her hands.

“Did your father teach you that too?” he asked, but the bite to his words weren’t there like either of them expected.

She hesitated a moment, pausing in her massing, before continuing and shaking her head. “No, my mother’s physical therapist taught me when our insurance wouldn’t cover her treatments anymore.”

The silence that fell around them this time wasn’t near as hostile as before, and another minute later the pain had dulled in his arm to nearly non-existent. She was working on his other arm when Oliver returned and stopped when he saw his two protégés.

He smiled.

“I was expecting bloodshed, not body massages,” he quipped lightly as he walked over and offered the jar of ointment to the girl.

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” Roy groaned as Artemis went back to massaging a particularly difficult knot in his arm.

A soft blush touched Artemis’ cheeks and she tried not to smile. “We’re going to need every able body when we catch up with Guardian and my fa- Sportsmaster. He’d have been no good to us hopped up on those pills.” She finished with his arm, which fell to his side limply and fully relaxed. “Sit up, shirt off, then on your stomach.”

“Whoa, what did I miss?” Wally blinked a few times at the sight of the disrobing archer.

“Just some physical therapy,” Green Arrow explained while the rest of the young team climbed onto the bio-ship. His masked gaze fell to the leader. “Was there any trouble?”

Aqualad shook his head as he and his team mates took their seat, the belts securing all but Artemis and Red Arrow. “None. The guards were released, assured they would not lose their jobs, and they have agreed that we,” he motioned to all of them, “were not here. They are allowing us a few minutes to depart before alerting the authorities to the break in and theft.”

Superboy held out a flash drive to the vigilante billionaire. “They gave us a copy of the video footage as well as computer records of what was accessed, taken, or copied from the lab’s system.”

“Good,” Oliver nodded, taking the memory stick as M’gann to the ship into the air. “Maybe we can figure out their overall plan in case we can’t stop them in Metropolis.”

“If we get there in time to stop them,” Roy mumbled into the headrest of the reclined chair while Artemis worked the kinks out of his back.

“We will get there,” M’gann glanced at the older boy with a scowl. “My bio-ship will not let us down. It too misses Robin.”

“How far a head start you think they’ve got?” Superboy asked.

“The silent alarm came in around midnight,” Oliver started. “I was on the phone with Roy when it came.”

“It took me nearly an hour to get from the Star Bay Bridge to the industrial district,” Red Arrow turned his head and looked at the young heroes staring at him, all wanting the same answers to unasked questions. He sighed, waved Artemis away, and sat up. She sat on the laid back chair beside him and he put his tunic back on.

“Ten minutes, maybe less,” he told them. “That’s how long I was even in the building before they had me subdued. They left almost immediately after that.”

“So they were there for more than an hour,” Kaldur looked over to Green Arrow. “Why did the police not arrive before then?”

“Queen Industries employs its own security force,” the billionaire explained. “Each guard is screened, monitored, and interviewed several times a year to ensure that they haven’t been corrupted. QI has several defense contracts with the government and is the front runner in the United States in Space and Aeronautics. Having, is essence, our own police force prevents a lot of industrial sabotage. Outside forces aren’t called in unless necessary.”

“Okay, then why did it take so long for Guardian and his little monkeys to get what they wanted and get out?” Superboy asked. “It’s not like Red here was prompt in responding.”

“Not all of us leap around like an overgrown grasshopper,” Roy sneered at the clone, “or fly, or have superspeed. We normal folk have to get around like every other mere mortal.”

“Regardless,” Artemis stared down the dark haired boy, diffusing the potential fight between the two, “He has a point. Sportsmaster is a thief, not just a killer. He should have been in and out in minutes, not hanging around for whatever reason.”

The blonde suddenly wished she hadn’t spoken, as the eyes of her team mates turned distrustfully to her. “About that,” Wally started only to be cut off by Oliver.

“Let’s put an end to this right now,” he growled protectively. “Yes, Sportsmaster is, biologically, Artemis’ father. You need to know nothing else about her past unless she wants to tell you it herself. As far as you are concerned, she has the trust of me, Superman and the senior League Members, not to mention Batman himself. So get over your little hurt feelings about her keeping it a secret and let’s get back to bringing Robin home in one piece.”

“That may be easier said than done,” Roy said, reluctantly bringing the attention back onto him. “Guardian’s losing it.”

“He’d have to be, for an old school hero like him to go all dark side,” Wally snorted.

“When he confronted me, he was talking about sacrifices and what I would do in the name of the greater good.” Roy shuddered as the sight of the knife at his friend’s throat burned his memory. He didn’t want to describe the scene to the others, but he knew they would see it on the cameras sooner or later. So he did, and they reacted much as he had, with a cold dread that drew the colour from their faces. “I didn’t dare fight back. I couldn’t – wouldn’t risk Rob like that.”

“So you let them tie you up,” M’gann said in a whisper from where she piloted the ship.

Roy nodded, a fain grin touching his grim countenance. “Rob wasn’t happy about it, not that I was, and the little pissant snapped. He went after Guardian; hands cuffed behind him, bruised and beat up, he still tried to help me.” He sighed, frowned with the memory, his voice thick with emotion when he finally spoke again. “Guardian nearly killed him. He had him by the throat, holding him at least two feet off the ground. Rob just hung there, kicking and fighting and trying to breath and I couldn’t do anything to stop it! Not when his lips turned blue, not when he stopped kicking. If Sportsmaster hadn’t come in…”

Oliver was suddenly beside him, having unbuckled and traded places with Artemis.

He didn’t cry, although heavy moisture blurred his vision.  Roy turned his head, looking at his foster father. “Why didn’t you tell me? Them,” he gestured to Young Justice, “I get. But you…? When I found out about Dick, when I talked to you a dozen times since yesterday, why couldn’t you have just told me that it was Robin? Why did I have to find out like this?”

“Would it have made a difference?” Green arrow asked contritely. “In the end, would your knowing have changed how things happened, other than you worried more than you already were about a friend and careless?”

Red Arrow shook his head and lowered his gaze.

“So what do we do now?” Kaldur asked. “They are several hours ahead of us and despite the speed of M’gann’s ship I doubt we will overtake them, let alone catch up to them. They will have lost themselves in the City, if they even remain after obtaining whatever it is they seek.”

“Guardian’s the key,” Superboy told them gruffly. “From what little I knew him, and what I’ve read about him, it seems strange that he would align himself with a set up like Cadmus.”

“But being employed by the big bad is a lot more than a hop skip or jump from trying to strangle someone with your bare hands,” Wally seethed. “So what made him flip?”

“Hello, Megan! Maybe he didn’t,” M’gann offered excitedly. “He was controlled once, wasn’t he? I mean, didn’t Dr. What’s-His-Name use the g-gnomes as a form of mind control?”

“Mark Desmond,” Kaldur interjected. “But the leader of the g-gnomes desired freedom for him and his brothers; which is why he helped us escape Cadmus. I would not think he would succumb to mind control to grain that freedom.”

“Dubbilex was in the room,” Superboy shook his head. “And we know the Genomorphs are a part of this-”

“But are they controlling the situation or have they been manipulated by it?” Artemis raised an eyebrow. “The one we brought back from DC doesn’t seem like an evil mastermind, plus it was real eager to send us on our way to Star City.”

“And to Metropolis,” Kaldur sighed. “So more questions. Why is Guardian doing this? Is it of his own volition or is he as much victim as Robin is?”

Red Arrow growled. “I don’t know everything you all are talking about, but I can tell you this much: Guardian was doing all the thinking himself. None of the sign of mind control were there, and it takes a lot to make you do something against your will like strangling someone with your bare hands! As far as I’m concerned, Guardian’s the bad guy and he’s got my friend; that makes him fair game.”

“Just like I was selling out my friend to my father?” Artemis looked at the other archer. “Don’t get me wrong, I want to plug a few heads into Guardian as much of any of you, but make sure you know exactly who the bad guy is before you start taking your pound of flesh. As far as you know, Sportsmaster is control it all; the Genomorphs, Guardian, maybe this entire thing is his next big plan for the next big score.”

“Do you really believe that?” Wally asked.

She snorted and shook her head. “My father may be a brilliant mercenary and assassin, but he’s no thinker. He’s a soldier; someone’s telling him what to do.”

“That still leaves us where we started,” Kaldur pressed the conversation back on track. “What do we do now?”

Roy took the memory stick from his mentor. “We figure out their plan, and get Robin back. Anything after that is gravy.”

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One would have thought that someone in his current position would have learned to bite his tongue, but one thing Robin had yet to overcome was his nervous sarcasm. It was something that had gotten him in to trouble on more than one occasion and, as the back of Sportsmaster’s hand connected with his already swollen jawline, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe this time it was going to get him killed. 

Other than the strike, the mercenary didn’t respond. The last of the metal restrains were snapped into place and he walked away, leaving Robin to take in his precarious situation.

He had been brought to Metropolis, the downtown skyline easily recognizable against the mid-morning sun. The building he was taken to was still under construction, but the underground parking garage was finished, complete with its very own dungeon. At least that was the impression Dick got as he was dragged toward the chains that had been bolted into the concrete floor.

Forced to his knees, the heavy chains were looped around his legs before being padlocked painfully tight. Next, the cuffs on his wrists were removed only to be replaced by something straight out of a bad horror flick. The metal shackles were easily half an inch thick and Sportsmaster has welded them together around his wrists – taking delight in burning him several times – before they were connected behind his back to the chain around his legs. He thought it was a little overkill when a chain hanging down from the ceiling was loops around his neck before padlocked, but even he had to admit he was pretty much screwed.

Unable to stand, unable to sit back on his heels, he was forced to kneel in the center of the room like some weird modern art display.

It was such a comment that resulted in the leathered fist of Sportsmaster reopening the split corner of his mouth. The blonde merc was laughing as he walked over to the van that Guardian and a few Genomorphs were preparing.

**You are weary,** Dubbilex spoke silently into Dick’s mind as the g-gnome approached him. He held a moist, warm cloth in his hand and dabbed at the trickling blood. **I can feel your desire for an ending.**

**Wouldn’t you?**Robin closed his eyes beneath his mask with sigh. **Two days, no food, a little water stolen yesterday morning, constantly getting smacked around and tied up, and to top it all off I’m being used against my friends and family so these psychopaths can accomplish whatever seriously messed up plan they’ve concocted.**

The boy opened his eyes when he felt the creature’s smile. **And despite it all, you are still here.**

Robin wanted to point out the chains which made it impossible for him to be anywhere else when he understood that was not what he had meant. It was true, he had technically been in worse situation, but never before had he ever felt so powerless as he did right now.

**Keep the strength, young Robin; you have already accomplished much with Guardian. It won’t be much longer now.**

**Until I’m rescued, or until they kill me?**

**That is for you to decide.**

Dick watched Dubbilex walk toward the van and pass Guardian as the man came to stand in front of his captive. “It did not have to come to this,” he was told.

“Right,” Robin snorted and jostled the chains binding him. “Your evil fairy god-mother just made these magically appear because you wished for them. Fool yourself all you want, traitor, but this was always the plan. Just like the plan to kill me when you’re done with me.”

Guardian winced at the label but did nothing. He looked down at the bruised and battered boy, his frown deepening and there was a look of confusion in the man’s eyes. “We will return within the hour.”

With that he was walking away and climbing in to the passenger side of the van. Sportsmaster was already in the driver’s seat and Dubbilex and his little g-gnome brothers were in the back. The engine roared to life, reverberating through the empty garage, and then they were gone.

Testing his restraints, despite already knowing the futility of it, Robin allowed a true smile for the first time in forty-eight hours to grace his lips.

They had finally made a mistake.

They had brought him to Metropolis, left him alone, and didn’t bother to gag him.

“SUPERMAN, HELP!”

He shouted again, and again, and again; his dry and damaged throat taking the abuse without complaint for several minutes until it gave out. He closed his eyes, refusing to let the frustrated tears their escape. Robin rasped the call for Superman, for Batman, for anyone to hear him and help him.

But no one was coming.

He was alone, powerless.

Beaten…

Broken…

“Help me,” he sobbed, his control relented and the tears fell.  “Please, someone…”

There was a soft rush of wind…

Then a harsh intake of air…

And then…

“Dear god… Robin!”

Chapter Text

“Kent, where’s that interview!”

The man sighed as he sat heavily in his chair across the desk from the striking brunette chewing on the end of her pen. “I didn’t expect to see you back already, Smallville.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over the back of the seat. “I didn’t even stop for breakfast, just came straight here from the airport. Of course, I didn’t exactly plan on taking the first plane this morning back from Gotham after taking the redeye there last night in the first place. I don’t think I’ve slept in two days.”

Lois Lane put her pen down and leaned her arms against the surface of the desk. “Is that because of the story, or the subject?”

“Off the record?” he had learned to ask that question early on in their professional relationship, and she knew herself well enough not to be offended. When she nodded, he sighed again and slumped down into his chair. “Subject. It’s tough, you know, waiting. Dick’s such a good kid and what he’s done for Bruce… He won’t be the same if he doesn’t get his son back.”

She nodded again. “I don’t think any parent is ever the same after something like this. At least he’s got friends like you and Oliver Queen to get him through this.”

He shook his head. “He hit me; then his butler kicked me out.”

Deep brown eyes widened in surprised. “What questions did you ask to get thrown out of Wayne Manor?!”

“Kent, interview, where is it?” Perry White was there beside him, scowling down at the reporter.

The man that was Superman frowned. “I didn’t get it.”

“You didn’t get it?” the question was in stereo as both his editor and some-time partner exclaimed it at the same moment.

“How did you not get it?” Perry demanded, arms folding over his chest.

“His son has been kidnapped and is being held for ransom,” Clark growled up at the man. “He wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the emotional heart to heart or whatever it is you were hoping for!”

“Whoa, there CK,” Lois reached across the desk and put a comforting hand on his arm, drawing his ire from the boss. “Colour us surprised when those all American baby blues of yours don’t net results. It just caught us off guard, that’s all.”

Clark felt his temper cooled under her gaze and he nodded, turned back to his employer – and friend – and apologised. “This situation has me a little strung out, Sorry Perry.”

The older man sat on the edge of the desk, a hand resting on Clark’s shoulder. “Forget it, kid. I can appreciate it’s a tough assignment, since you’re a friend of the family. As it is, I thought you would have stuck around Gotham until it was over. I’ve already got Lois covering the rest of your stories.”

Adjusting the glasses on his nose, Clark shook his head. “I wasn’t exactly welcomed there, and I can’t-”

“…rman! Help!”

The cry was faint, even with his super-hearing.

“You can’t what, Kent?” the editor in chief prompted the other man when Clark drifted out of the conversation as he was prone to do when the thoughts carried him.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry. I’m just not comfortable sitting at home doing nothing.” He strained his concentration, hoping to hear it again. His effort paid off.

“Superman, help!”

The voice was that of a boy, young by the sound of it.

“Metropolis calling Smallville, come in Smallville?” Lois pinched his arm, and he barely registered it in time to fake a flinch of surprise. She was smirking at him, and when their eyes met her smile softened to one filled with concern. “Clark, you’re not going to do yourself or anyone else any good here. Go back to Gotham, and don’t let Wayne scare you away again. He’s going to need you if…”

“Superman, help me!”

The boy sounded desperate.

“You’re probably right,” He agreed readily, standing quickly and draping his jacket over his arm. “I’ll just…bye.” He turned abruptly, aware of their amused looks as he forced himself to go only humanly quick to the stairwell.

“Superman!”

Once there, any resemblance to Clark Kent was gone, and Superman was jetting out of the roof access and high into the sky above the Daily Planet.

Above the city, away from the dampening effects of people and cars and buildings, he was able to focus his hearing. He closed his eyes, heightening the sense all that more without the distraction of sight. Normally a patient man, had any one asked he would have been unable to explain why he was so anxious.

“Superma-”

The voice was coming from the south, and the sudden quieting of the cry had the Man of Steel breaking the sound barrier as he sped in that direction.

He hovered over Suicide Slum, where several corporations were hoping new construction would help bring some life back into the ghetto. Dozens of high rises and office buildings were in various stages of completion.  Superman tilted his head to the side, a habit since his enhanced hearing first manifested, and once again closed his eyes.

“Come on kid,” he breathed after a minute. Another passed, his head starting to pound with the effort of filtering through the noises of the Slum. “Come on, come on!”

“… help, please…”

There is was! Fainter than it had been when he’d first heard it, scratchier and more defeated, and Superman allowed a brief moment of wonder of how long the boy had been yelling. He swooped down lower. He had it now, and was able to further narrow the location every time it came.

“… where are you Superman…”

I’m coming kid…

“Batman… I need you…”

That stopped Superman as if he’d run into a wall of kryptonite. But it was the next choked plea for help that had the Man of Steel moving faster than he had in a long time.

“… Clark, you gotta hear me…”

“Superman to Watchtower!” He activated the comm sewn into his suit as he flew about the neighbourhood. He had it narrowed down to several blocks, but unless he heard it again… He started scanning with his x-ray vision.

“He Supe,” Hawkman responded from the orbiting station, “If you’re about to tell me about Star Labs, I already know.”

“What?!” That was not what he wanted to hear, and right now he didn’t care. “Not important-”

“Not important?” the other hero exclaimed. “Uh, you’re not calling in about Star Labs, are you?”

“No, now shut up!” Superman snapped uncharacteristically. “I’ve got a lead on Robin!”

“Batman’s Robin? What about him?”

Oh, how he wanted to break something! Or someone! “He was kidnapped two days ago-”

“Help me… please, someone…”

The last of any doubt that ignoring whatever was happening at Star Labs was right dissolved with the sound of the desperate sobs.

“What?! And you’re just now telling us?!”

“Will you please shut up!” the frantic Kryptonian snarled as he sped toward the partially constructed building. His barely had time to remind himself to swerve instead of just ploughing through the concrete walls. He followed the entrance ramp down into the lower levels, barely registering the burst of static from his comm as he zeroed in on the crying.

On the deepest level he found him, and he was horrified at what he saw.

The boy had been dressed in his Robin uniform, and obviously beaten. The left cheek was severely swollen and a large, green-tinged bruise ran along the jawline. His lips were had been split and were scabbed over, and distinctive finger sized bruises decorated the entirety of his throat.

And then there were the restraints.

The use of shackles and chains was disturbing to see being used on the boy, but the worst was the thick metal links around Dick’s neck, pulling him stiff and straight, unable to relax in the slightest lest he risk strangling himself.

It was the final straw.

"Dear god… Robin!"

The chain connected to the concrete ceiling was snapped before Robin was even aware that Superman was suddenly beside him. His body, however, felt the release and he slumped exhausted against the chest of the Man of Steel.

“What have they done to you?” Superman wrapped his arms around the boy wonder as the teen shook with the effort of controlling his tears. Clark let his cheek rest atop the dark hair and closed his eyes to the prickling he felt at their edges. It took less than a minute, something which Clark didn’t need to be told was unhealthy, but Robin was soon the same, collected hero he’d come to acquaint with the crimson R on the boys chest.

“Didn’t think you heard me.”

Superman winced at the sound of Dick’s voice. It was faint, and if he hadn’t super hearing he doubted he would have actually heard more than a breathy whisper. “It took me a while to find you.”

“Can you get me out of here please?”

“Let me take a look at what you’ve gotten yourself in to this time,” he said lightly, earning a weary but amused scoff. Keeping his hold on the young man, Superman leaned around to look at the thick cuffs. He hissed when he saw the blistered burns, skin red and seared to the metal in several places. “What did they do, solder it to you for good measure?”

“Pretty much,” Robin tried to answer blithely, but the pain that laced his words left the Man of Steel feeling sick to his stomach.

After another quick examination, Clark realized they weren’t come off cleanly. “The seam is the weakest point and will be the best place to put the pressure. They’re custom made, not sure out of what, but there’s a thin coating of lead. I can get them off, but it’s going to hurt.”

Robin snorted derisively, and his already abused body tensed with expectancy. “Do it.”

With a curt not, Superman carefully took hold of the thick cuff. Three inches wide and nearly a half inch thick; it wouldn’t take much to break them off. What worried him was the thought of doing more damage to the already wounded wrists. He squeezed.

The lead cracked and instantly he felt his strength rush from him. His head spun, his vision clouded, he was vaguely aware of Robin calling out to him as he surged to his feet to get away. As soon as he stood, a searing pain shot through the side of his neck and his hand flung to the spot. Pulling the dart away – no, out of his skin, he saw a drop of opaque green fluid drip from the needle’s tip.

He wouldn’t remember falling to his knees next to the Boy Wonder. He wouldn’t hear the teen hero painfully forcing his voice as he shouted Superman’s name and calling again for someone to help them.

He wouldn’t know that no one came.

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.

.

Trained by one of the best, that skill honed by the best, Artemis was usually not so high strung. But as she stood hidden behind a gargoyle on the roof of the building across from Star Labs she was unable to calm her nerves and release the tension in her body. Her knuckles were white from her fingers wrapped so tightly around her bow. The shaft of the arrow she held in the other hand, ready to be knocked at a moment’s notice, creaked under the grip.

“Calm down,” Red Arrow, standing a few feet away from her behind his own concrete statue, didn’t even look her way when he hissed at her. He awkwardly, yet expertly, held Green Arrow’s borrowed bow. “You guys trusted the mind monkeys-”damn Wally for that stupid name! “- when you came to Star City, trust the information that they’ll be coming here next.”

She nodded, frowning at herself for letting her emotions cloud her rationality. When Green Arrow had inspected the files gathered by the Queen Industries’ Security, they exposed a secondary program on the memory stick. When it was accessed, a dossier on a laser prototype was opened. It wasn’t much different than anything else out there; nothing more than a high grade medical laser, actually. But the light was being focussed through an element that had been discovered in some microscopic interstellar dust recovered from the exterior of the space shuttle. That the dust had survived re-entry into Earth’s atmosphere had scientists biting at the bit for a chance to see what it could do.

The evidence suggested that when they were downloading the schematics of the compressor from Star City, the G-gnomes has also uploaded the dossier onto the system, attaching it to the security file that would be accessed during the investigation.

The Mind Monkeys were playing both sides.

Once they reached Metropolis, Oliver had contacted Watch Tower to give the League the heads-up. That was when they learned that Superman had reported a lead on their missing friend, only to vanish himself. Hawkman hadn’t had the chance to trace the Kryptonian’s signal and neither had the man given his location.

With the Man of Steel’s disappearance, word went out through entire League but only a few were able to start making their way to Metropolis. The Flash had been there in moments, and both Red Tornado and Black Canary came in from Mount Justice, but the rest were in the middle of missions themselves.

Bruce Wayne, they were told by the Flash when he hooked up with them, was still being watched by the media and the Gotham Police were working with him to get the ‘ransom’ for Dick Grayson together for the drop the following day. Batman was aware of the lead on his missing partner and, as circumstances contained him, he was trusting the team to bring Robin home.

None of them wanted to let the man – or their friend – down.

They were now split up into pairs, situated around the Lab, waiting for Sportsmaster or Guardian to show up.

With the corner of her eyes, Artemis allowed her attention to be drawn to her companion. Despite the animosity he displayed around her, the young girl couldn’t deny that she felt better with him there. His was alert and poised to strike, but he wasn’t tense or anxious. Watching him she could see what it meant to be an Arrow, and why some of her team mates – why Green Arrow - still compared her to him.

“Quit looking at me and pay attention,” he said in a low tone.

She focussed back on the Lab and sighed. “It’s not because of who my father is, is it.” She stated, not asking when she already knew the answer.

He looked to her and frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Why you don’t like me,” she shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me, but I know Ollie would like for us to get along better.”

“Don’t call him that,” Roy snapped, forcing himself to look back at the building. “You may be his ‘niece’ but you don’t have the right to call him by that name. “

“Maybe not, but that’s what he’s asked me to call him.” She glanced at him before going back to her watch. “You don’t have to be angry.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m not you,” she smiled to herself. “They’re my friends, my team mates, but I’m not Speedy. I’m not you. I never will be you. And if you ever wanted it, I know that my place on this team is yours. I’m just the seat warmer.”

Silence swirled around them with the breeze.

“I never was much of a team player,” Red Arrow said after a few minutes. “Working with Green Arrow was great, for a while, but I’m better on my own.”

She nodded in understanding. “I thought the same thing, until Ollie and Batman thought I should join the team. For my protection as much as anything, they said. I think it was more so they didn’t have to babysit me as much.”

Roy snorted his amusement. “They like to use the ‘for your own good’ excuse a lot.”

“Most parents do,” She quirked an eyebrow knowingly.

“Oliver’s not-”

“-your father,” she shrugged. “I know that. But that doesn’t stop him from being your parent, being your Dad. Just like Batman’s not Robin’s father but is still his Dad. I saw Bruce Wayne’s fear for his son in Gotham; I saw Batman’s furry for his son in the Cave – ‘cuz let’s face it, that’s what Robin is to Batman; and last night I witnessed Oliver’s worry for his son. I have a father; and the bastard only ever showed me his contempt and his fists. Trust me when I say you’ve got nothing to be angry about; not when it comes to me.”

**Eyes high, archers,** a voice interrupted the pair in their minds.

A voice that was not Miss Martian’s.

**Seven o’clock.**

They both snapped their heads around, looking behind them and to their left, and Roy was moving before she registered the sniper laser sight settle on her left breast. He tackled her to the ground a heartbeat before the bullet cracked into the gargoyle where she had been standing. He rolled with her, away from more bullets as they thudded into the roof beside them. They never heard the shots fired.

When they got to the ledge of the building, the two foot rise of brick and mortar stopped them and provided minimal but effective cover. Artemis was the first to activate the communicator clipped to her lapel. “We’ve been made!” She shouted.

“Report!” Green Arrow demanded from his position with Superboy just inside the entrance to main Lab building.

Roy forced her head down as a concrete chipped around them as the shots continued. “Shots fired northwest of our position. We’re a little pinned down up here!”

“We’re on it,” The Flash chimed in.

A few seconds ticked by, several more shots kept the teens low on the roof, and then they stopped.

“We found the riffle,” Kid Flash reported, “But there’s no one here. Camera and remote controlled.”

“A distraction,” Roy growled leaping up with Artemis right behind him.  They were grabbing their bows from where they had been dropped and knocking arrows as they simultaneously drew up to their original positions. In almost perfect synch they had their weapons aimed at the building below them.

“Black Canary, Aqualad report!” Green Arrow snapped the order to the two who had taken up the duty of protecting the scientists and prototype while it was being tested.  There was no response and Oliver swore.  “Miss Martian?”

A few more tense seconds passed in silence, Barry and Wally speeding to a stop just outside the building in that time, before M’gann finally responded. “I’m not getting a reading from either one of them, Green Arrow.”

“Star Labs security confirming that they have an emergency exit activated on the second floor,” Red Tornado announced, “auditory alarm had been disconnected.”

“No,” Artemis muttered under hear breath, watching the building with growing apprehension. “No, we can’t have missed them again!”

A full minute passed before anyone spoke. “Lab’s been sacked,” Superboy growled in everyone’s ears. “Black Canary and Aqualad have been taken down, scientist too, and the Prototype is gone.”

“Sportsmaster and Guardian?” Roy asked unnecessarily.

“Gone.”

Chapter Text

“Superman!”

“Goddammit, SUPERMAN!!”

Robin was twisting his wrists, frantically hoping that the man had weakened the cuffs even a little. He discovered quickly that there was no give in them, other than when they pulled at his skin and tore open the blisters. He wanted to scream out his frustrations, but his raw throat was barely able to vocalize already.

Don’t panic…

His chest rose and fell rapidly with every desperate breath. His heart was racing and his mind was awhirl as he was resigned to accept that Superman was not going to be doing any saving. If the dart contained a kryptonite solution, Clark had maybe minutes before his organ started to shut down and he began to die – if he wasn’t already.

Superman needed him!

Don’t panic…

“Think Rob!” He rasped to himself. “Think! You’re supposed to be a master escape artist, so bloody well suck it up and escape!”

He had wasted what strength he had left fighting against the shackles, and closed his eyes as he rode a wave of dizziness. He wavered on his knees, grateful that at least the chain noose was no longer around his neck. He could move about somewhat, though his legs were still secured to the floor, but at least he could sit back onto his heels, relaxing the tension of the chain binding his wrists to his legs.

Calmer now, he opened his heavy eyelids.

Superman lay awkwardly only a few feet away. His pallor was waxy and had a grey tinge to it. The side of his neck was a spider-web of deep green colored veins and lines, visibly spreading as the toxin from the dart worked its way through the Krytonian’s system.

The dart!

Dick’s masked eyes fell onto the small needle, lying on the concrete between the two heroes. No more than four inches long from tip to end, but it would be more than enough for him to pick the padlocks on the chains if he could reach it!

Gritting his teeth against the pain he knew it would cause, he twisted at the waist, allowing him to lie on his side. He pulled and kicked his legs within the loops of chains, rubbing the Kevlar leggings roughly against his skin, but eventually was able to manoeuvre so one was resting onto of the other, his waist no longer turned.

He knew he wouldn’t be of reaching it with his hands, so he bent back until his head was nearly to his feet and contorted his body so he could nudge the dart with his tongue. Ignoring the little voice in his head talking about discarded needles, he gently eased it toward him until he was able to hold the feathered end between his lips.

Weary blue eyes had to close again as the vertigo overtook Robin again. The lack of food was starting to get to him and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep going much longer. Breathing slowly through his nose, he kept his eyes closed as he tensed his core muscles and shifted into a kneeling position once more.

Ignoring the way the world tilted when he opened his eyes, he turned his head as far to the side as possible, pulling against the chain to bring his hands as close to his mouth as he could. Praying to any deity that was listening, he let the dart drop from his mouth.

“Yes!” he gasped in elation when his fingers snatched the narrow dart out of the air. He refused to acknowledge the prick on the needle against the pad of his thumb, hoping that there was nothing left on the needle.

Sitting on his heels brought his fingers right next to the padlock at his ankles and looking over his shoulder he deftly twisted and poked and scraped the tip of the needle inside the locking mechanism. He was sweating, his neck and shoulders aching, when he finally felt and heard the click of the lock giving way.  The needle was palmed in one hand while the other carefully pulled the padlock open and unhooked it from the chain links.

Robin wanted to cry his relief as he was able to wriggle and stretch his legs until he could slip one free from the weight of the chains. The rest fell away as he crawled away from the links. Sitting with his legs stretched out before him, easing the throbbing muscles on his thighs and calves, he wanted nothing more than to rest, but knew he didn’t dare.

On shaky legs he stood, bending at the waist and pulling his still bound wrists down past his buttocks so he could step over his wrists, bringing his arms in front of him. Putting the feathered end of the dart back between his lips, he used his mouth to work the padlock securing his wrists together.

In a space of a few minutes, Robin was finally free.

Almost.

The metal cuffs on his wrists weren’t coming off unless cut off.

Through the crack on the one he could see the pale glow of the kryptonite alloy beneath the lead and knew what he had to do.

“Hang on Superman,” he whispered as he staggered over to the unconscious hero. Quickly, and thoroughly, Robin ran his palms over the other man’s uniform, patting it down until he found the comm device sewn into the seam where the cape joined with the shoulders. Carefully using the tip of the need to tear into the fabric, he pulled the communicator out. He then slipped the earwig from the Man of Steel’s ear and hurried toward the exit ramp.

He put the receiver into his ear and pressed the tiny device once. When he got nothing but static he glanced back at the still unmoving man. He had to go up, and there was no way he was going to be able to drag Clark however far he had to go. Hell, he’d be lucky if he could make it above ground himself.

Determinedly, Robin started up the ramp, trying to get a signal through the comm every level. He was three levels up when the sound of an approaching vehicle came from above him. He scurried off the ramp, stumbling to his knees as he dove behind a thick concrete support, watching from the darkness as the same van he had seen his captors leave in return.

His time had just run out.

As soon as he lost sight of the van he was running as fast as he could, which wasn’t that fast given his weakened state. He stumbled several times, but it was only one more level up that he was rewarded with silence instead of static.

Bolting off the ramp onto the parking level, he made it to a center support beam when his legs gave out. Pressing his back against it, peering around enough to watch the ramp, he depressed the communicator between his fingers.

“Robin to Watchtower!” he held the device close to his mouth, hoping his raspy voice would carry.

“Robin!” Sportsmaster’s voice echoed up through the ramp, reverberating in the empty structure and causing a shiver to run up the boy’s spine.

He forced a cough, wincing at the sound that in the otherwise quiet parking garage, hoping to clear his throat enough to be heard. “Robin to Watchtower!”

“Enough of these games, boy,” the man’s voice was angry and coming further up the ramp. “If you make me come get you, it won’t be only you who gets punished this time. Or did you forget about your buddy lying on the floor down here?”

 “Come on, Justice League, someone answer me goddammit!”

“Robin?!” Hawkman’s exclamation resounded in the boy’s ear, but it was a welcomed sound. “Kid, what the hell is going-”

“Shut up and listen to me,” he snapped, hearing the heavy booted footsteps coming up the ramp. “Trace this signal, Superman is dying!”

There was a stunned silence, quickly followed by a hissed “What?! How?!”

“I know you’re here, Robin.” Sportsmaster was at his level.

“Just trace this god damn signal before its cut off!” Robin spat, set the transmitter on the floor right next to the beam, hoping it would go unnoticed.

Dick ran.

Sportsmaster was gaining ground quickly, catching up to him in only a few seconds. Robin was taken to the ground, hands pinned painfully above his head as the large man straddled his thighs. Holding the teen’s hands in place with one palm, Sportsmaster reached for the earwig receiver in Robin’s ear and crushed it easily between two fingers.

“Really now,” the man glared down at his captive, “Haven’t you learned anything yet?”

The free hand was drawn back into a fist and the last thing he saw before the darkness took him.

.

.

.

.

.

Exhaustion was playing havoc on already frayed nerves, and none more evident than the pinched mouth on Green Arrows face as he listened to Black Canary, an icepack being held against her head. Red Tornado had gone back to Mount Justice to forward the report on to Batman. The teens stood to the side, out of the way of the Flash while he treated the still unconscious Aqualad. The Young Justice leader’s face look like it went a round with Georges St-Pierre*, and lost.

M’gann was the only Young Justice member actively doing something, and that was scanning the immediate memories of the groggy, but conscious, scientists.

When it was discovered that one of the scientists had been killed, his neck broken, it was learned from the others that he had been the one to strike the two meta-human guards. Black Canary had gone down first; a cowardly blow to the back of her head had her unconscious before she knew what happened. Aqualad had turned to the scientist, only to be struck down by Sportsmaster when the mercenary had entered the room. While Guardian had been retrieving the prototype, the traitor scientist had chloroformed his coworkers and Sportsmaster continued to beat the unconscious Atlantean.

After that they could only speculate that they had killed their compatriot to tie up loose ends before activating the robotic riffle to take pot-shots at Artemis and Red Arrow. In the end, it didn’t matter, as whatever the order of events the two men had made a clean getaway.

“So what do we do now?” Kid Flash asked quietly, more subdued than either archer remembered seeing him.

Superboy was frowning, as per the norm, but there was an underlying fear in his pale blue eyes. “This was the last city the Genomorph gave Miss Martian. They should have everything they wanted, right?”

“The phony ransom drop is tomorrow night,” Artemis said without a trace of optimism.

Roy shook his head. “They’re not giving him back, no matter what they might have said.”

Wally sighed. “So what do we do?”

“Watchtower to Green Arrow,” Hawkman’s voice crackled over the frequency of the receivers in their ears.

The senior-most member on sight perked up at the call and responded immediately. “What is it, Hawk?”

“I have no idea what the hell is going on, but I just got a call from Robin on Superman’s comm channel!”

Everyone was alert now.

Oliver held up his hand, stopping the younger team before they could start shouting out questions. “Where is he?”

“He didn’t say, but it’s not good. Robin reported that Superman was dying and then the line when quiet.”

“It was cut off?”

“No, it’s still transmitting; it’s just gone really quiet. I think I heard some kind of struggle, or fight, but it was really short and now I’ve got nothing but dead air.”

“I’m assuming you got a trace this time, Hawkman?” The Flash was on his feet, readying himself like a sprinter. Wally mimicked his uncle.

“Damn straight I did. Transmitting coordinates now.”

Both speedsters were gone before the others could even blink. It took them less than a minute to arrive at the building site and Barry grabbed his nephew by the arm to stop him from running headlong onto the scene. The two stood anxiously across the street.

“Hawk, you with us?” asked the older speedster quietly.

“You’re right on top of the signal, Flash,” was the response.

“Underground then,” Wally jerked his chin toward construction site.

Barry glanced at the teen hesitantly. “Kid, maybe you-”

“Not a chance!” he snapped. “You are not leaving me behind!”

“They’ve taken down Big Blue,” Flash tried again.

“And they’ve taken my best friend,” the boy growled, poking his uncle in the chest. “I. Am. Going.”

The curling of his upper lip was unavoidable. “Alright. Hawk, ETA on the others?”

“Dinah and Aqualad are out of the game,” the hero manning watchtower told them. “J’onn is heading back to Metropolis now and will take them to the Hall to medical attention. The rest are heading for Miss Martian’s ship now and will be there in a few minutes.”

“Good,” Flash clapped his protégé’s shoulder and nodded. “Keep and open comm, will you?”

The two were heading down the ramp a heartbeat later, taking the few seconds to search the upper levels as they went. They slowed when they came to the lowest level, stuttering their pace when their saw their teammates lying near a van.

“Rob!” KF sped ahead of his uncle, coming to the unconscious bird. He felt the bile burning the back of his throat when he saw the condition of his friend.

“Damn,” Barry knelt beside the Man of Steel, inspecting the criss-crossing green veins that had spread from the neck to the side of Clark’s face and down his chest. He pressed a hand to his ear, “Hawk, you there? Hawkman?” He fingered the transmitter hidden in mask. “Flash to Watchtower? Well, that sucks.”

Wally looked up at his mentor just in time to see Sportsmaster standing behind the unaware speedster. Before he could open his mouth to shout a warning, the mercenary struck. The hunting knife in his hand sliced into the meat of Barry’s thigh, eliciting a scream of pain from the Flash. The blade was twisted before it was yanked free of the flesh.

Blood rapidly spurted from the limb.

Wally was moving the same time his Uncle collapsed next to Superman. He was pressing down, hard, on the wound, the blood staining his hands. “Oh god!”

“You move faster,” Sportsmaster said with obvious amusement, “your heart beats faster, you bleed out faster.  What do you think, boy? Are you fast enough – good enough- to save them all?”

“Do not gloat,” Guardian said from inside the back of the van, its cargo doors now open. “We need to go, now.”

“Fine, fine,” the hired thug walked past them. He reached down, grabbed Robin by his arm and lifted him easily over his shoulder.

“No!” Wally cried out. “You don’t need him!”

“Then by all means,” Guardian motioned to Kid Flash’s current position, “let go of the leg and stop Sportsmaster. You’re fast enough, you could possible stop him. But would it be before your mentor bleeds to death?”

“Don’t-”Barry gasped, reached down and pulled at KF’s hands. “Don’t let them take Robin again!”

Wally just pressed down harder; a hiss of pain preceding the Flash’s decent into unconsciousness. The teen looked away from his mentor and watched as a smug Sportsmaster uncaringly dropped Robin into the back of the van.

“You’re going to die painfully,” Kid Flash snarled at the pair as he watched them turn his friend onto his stomach and secure his wrists together with a padlock behind his back. “Batman is going to hunt you both down and I am going to watch as he tears you both apart, bit by bit!”

Sportsmaster slammed the back doors of the van shut and stepped over to the teen. His hand still gripped the bloody knife, the crimson fluid dripping across the concrete and pooling where it fell. “Big Bad Daddy Bats won’t do a think, so long as we’ve got his kid.”

The flat edge of the blade was wiped across Wally’s cheek, causing the boy to flinch as his face was painted with his uncle’s blood. “Next time, stay home. We’ve neutered the Bat, brought down Superman, and the Flash isn’t going to be going anywhere but the morgue. Just imagine what I can, and will, do to your little friend if you interfere again.”

Seconds later, the van was gone and so was Robin.

Again.

And Wally was alone with two dying heroes.

Chapter Text

Artemis sat on the counter of the island in the Cave’s kitchen. After their disastrous performance in Metropolis, Green Arrow had ordered them back to Mount Justice. So the blonde sat there, staring at the back of Superboy’s head while he sat on the sofa staring at the black screen of the television. Megan was somewhere behind her, puttering around the kitchen but not actually doing anything. The emotions that hung in the air were too much for the young telepath.

The three of them were all that was left of the team.

Black Canary had been concussed, a serious injury despite the simplicity of it. As she had not yet fully recovered from her injuries during the battle with Amazo, she didn’t come back to the Cave with the young team. She had taken a leave of absence, temporarily removing herself from training duties until she felt comfortable doing so.

Aqualad was out for the count. Sportsmaster had done a real number on their leader, the worst but not least of his injuries was a flailed chest. Red Tornado was certain the Atlantean would survive, but once he was stable Kaldur was being returned to Atlantis while he recuperated.

Wally had stayed with his uncle when the Justice League had shown up. The Flash was in critical condition, having almost bled out by the time they had arrived, but he was slated to make a full recovery. KF had gone into shock when his mentor’s heart had stopped, and even when it had started again under CPR he hadn’t fully come out of it.

Superman, by far, was the worst of their casualties; although they still didn’t know if he had even survived.

M’gann’s uncle had arrived and looked over the Kryptonian for barely a few seconds before the Martian Manhunter was lifting the Man of Steel and shooting straight into the atmosphere. The poison in Superman’s system was synthesized from a kryptonite solution and the man had stopped breathing.

All of that, and they still didn’t get Robin away from Sportsmaster and Guardian.

Talk about epic fail…

When Red Arrow walked into the rec room a few minutes later, three sets of eyes turned to him expectantly.

“Is there any news?” Megan asked, her eyes wide with concern for her friends.

Roy shook his head. “Nothing’s changed. Flash is still in surgery and no one’s heard anything from J’onn.”

“So, what’s going to happen now?” Artemis watched her fellow archer as he helped himself to a soda from the fridge.

He shrugged. “Wonder Woman’s taken command of the League for the time being, and she’s furious with everyone and with the mess this has become.”

 “What does she expect,” Superboy growled with a shake of his head. “They have Robin; of course things are going to fall apart.”

Three gazes fell onto the clone in confusion. “What do you mean by that?” Artemis voiced the question they all had.

“He was the first,” the clone said as if that answered everything.

“The first what?” Megan asked quietly.

“Sidekick,” Roy stared at the other boy in wonderment as he started to understand what was being said. “Batman was the first to take a protégé.”

Superboy nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s also the youngest of us; even me, despite the technicality of my biological age. I don’t know about the rest of you, but instinctively I’ve felt very protective of him at times.”

“But he’s the most experienced of us,” the young Martian pointed out. “He’s proven time and again that he can take care of himself.”

Artemis turned to look at the other girl, “His experience has nothing to do with it. I feel the same way and I’ve been on this team the shortest. Rob is human, completely.”

“So are you and me,” Roy reminded her.

“Yeah, but we’re not in the thick of it like he is. We attack from a distance; he’s hand to hand.” Artemis looked back to Superboy. “It’s like Supe said, it’s instinctual. Whether he likes it or not, Rob is not only the youngest he’s also the smallest and most vulnerable.”

“It’s in our biology as sentient beings to want to protect him,” Megan suddenly understood what they were saying. “But I still don’t understand.”

“Think of it this way,” Roy told the alien gently. “Rob is thirteen, and he’s been Batman’s partner for four years already. He was introduced to the League three years ago, just before they went public, and if we – who are only a few years older than him – feel so protective of him now when he’s older, can you imagine how the League would feel toward him when they met him at an even younger age?”

“Talk about tugging at the parental instincts,” Artemis shook her head in amazement. “It’s no wonder then, what’s going on with the League right now.”

“Hawkman was furious when he realized Robin’s abduction had been kept from the rest of the League.” Roy told them. “He’s livid, specifically at Superman for the decision not to get involved from the beginning and last I heard he sent it out to all current members.”

“So what’s happening now?” Superboy asked.

Red Arrow shrugged. “I don’t know, but Green Arrow was on his way here when I talked to him last.”

Recognize: Green Arrow, 0-8; Kid Flash, B-0-3

“And there he is.”

The four teens were moving out of the rec room quickly, encountered the ragged looking pair a moment later in the corridor.

“Debriefing room, now,” Green Arrow told them. He walked with one hand on Wally’s shoulder, guiding the shell-shocked looking boy ahead of him.

“Has something happened?” Roy asked his foster father once they were situation in the command room.

“Batman’s gone off the grid,” the man answered grimly. “He staged a very public break down for Bruce Wayne in front of the press, going as far as having to having to be ‘sedated’ by the family’s doctor. No one is going to question it when they don’t see him before the ransom drop tomorrow, and now he’s disappeared into the Batcave. He’s shut down the Zeta Beam access, he’s not responding to any transmissions, and even Alfred won’t answer our queries when we call the house directly.”

“He’s planning something,” Artemis leaned forward in her seat and rested her elbows on her knees.

“But what?” Megan asked.

“And will he include us?” Superboy snarled.

“So what if he doesn’t?” the angry voice of Kid Flash sounded quietly. “We’ve got as much right of going after these bastards as he does.”

“Sportsmaster nearly killed your uncle,” Green Arrow reminded the boy.

Wally was on his feet and standing toe to toe with the older man before any of them blinked. “That is why I’m not going to sit around here and wait for him to kill my best friend! You didn’t see Robin! You didn’t see what they’ve done to him!”

“And what do you think you can do to stop him?” Oliver snapped back. “Or better yet, how do you plan on finding them?”

“By figuring out their big plan instead of just reacting,” Artemis suggested calmly.

Green Arrow turned to his angry frown to his new protégé, “How?”

“Well, we know what they’ve stolen, right?” Megan bit her lower lips. “If they’ve planned their phony ransom exchange for tomorrow, they should have everything they’ve wanted, right?”

Roy was moving from his seat toward the computer, ignoring the glare he got from the senior archer. “So what do we know?”

“New York, Geneva, Gotham, Star City, Metropolis,” Superboy recited.

“What was taken in New York?” Wally turned his back to the League member and walked next to his friend.

“Information,” Red Arrow answered, bringing up the file. “One of the College’s professors was writing a paper on theoretical special and temporal worm holes within the atmosphere and the effect one might have on the surrounding environment.”

“And in English?” Artemis walked past her mentor to join the boys.

“The short of it,” Roy told them, “is basically that there are hidden tears in space and time everywhere and he was speculating a means of tracking them.”

“The CERN facility was attacked next,” Superboy joined them, Miss Martian hovering above them all. “I didn’t think much was stolen.”

“Just parts,” Red brought pointed to the screen. “The particle accelerator there is the largest in the world and it’s been taken offline because it was harvested for several key components. It’ll take months for them to repair it.”

“And Robin was stolen from Gotham,” Miss Martian offered. “Have there been any other thefts of note in that city we may have missed?”

“I’ll check,” Artemis moved over to another console and started pulling up police reports.

“In Star City they took the high yield compressor that was being tested,” Roy skipped to the last file. “And in Metropolis they stole the Laser prototype.”

“So what does it all add up to?” Wally asked.

“I’d say some kind of weapon,” Superboy pointed to the file from New York, “except for this. What does this have to do with anything?”

“Unless they were planning on opening such a worm hole,” Megan tossed out casually.

Artemis snorted from where she scanned the reports. “What would be the point?”

“Well,” the young Martian had a small smile as she started to explain, “Theoretically it could open a portal to another dimension, or another time.”

The blonde archer’s hands froze over the keyboard as she turned to look at her equally stunned teammates staring at the other girl. “... what?!”

“It’s only a hypothesis,” M’gann shrugged. “I don’t think it’s been attempted on this planet, and I know the attempts on Mars have not been successful. Worm Holes are naturally unstable and take a great expenditure of energy to even open the tear enough to be visible. The most recent experiment on Mars was nearly twenty earth years ago, and did not end well. The resulting shift in gravitational pressure of the opening only a few millimetres in diameter caused the entire building to collapse in on itself. Everyone was killed.”

Superboy found his voice first. “Pressure that might be compensated by, oh I don’t know, maybe a device that’s to be used to pressurize things out in space?”

It turned out the green skinned Martian could go pale. “B-but they would not be capable of opening the tear!”

“They could if they used the laser as a component in the construction of their own particle accelerator,” Roy went back to the computer with shaking hands. “A Hadron Collider can be used to create new matter, which potentially results in the creation of antimatter-”

“Which is the most powerful substance known,” Wally shook his head. “If they managed that, and used it to power the already more powerful laser-”

“They would still require a focus point in the exact location of the tear,” Megan whispered in disbelief.

“Like a flawless diamond retrieved from the Mariana Trench three months ago on a deep sea expedition?” Artemis asked from where she was once again going through police records? She pulled up the complete file, including a picture of the gem. The horrified expression on M’gann’s face was enough of an answer. “Then Robin wasn’t the only thing they collected when they were in Gotham.”

“No, he wasn’t.”

The arrival of the Dark Knight had gone unnoticed by the group of teens, but they were too stunned to react.

Batman joined the gathered youths and glanced at the shell-shocked Green Arrow. “This is why they wanted Robin,” he told the man. “Were it known they were attempting to open a worm hole inside Earth’s atmosphere they would have had the entire League after them.”

Green Arrow understood. “A distraction.”

“And bait,” Superboy quietly. “They used him to catch Superman with that kryptonite dart trap.”

Batman nodded. “It’s not widely known, but it’s no secret that Superman is... fond, of Robin.”

“They knew that Superman would be preoccupied trying to help Robin,” Roy clenched his hands into fist, “Just like they knew any hero in Star City wouldn’t lift a finger to stop them.”

“You and me,” Oliver shook his head. “Are you telling me Guardian and Sportsmaster thought this all up on their own?”

Artemis scoffed. “My father’s not exactly a thinker.”

“And Guardian wouldn’t try something like this,” Wally glanced at Batman. “Would he?”

“Maybe,” Miss Martian said almost hesitantly, as if she didn’t like what she was about to say. “Maybe the Genomorph’s are still controlling him?”

“Then why warm Artemis and me when we were on the roof?” Red Arrow pointed out.

“And why give us the lead to Star City?” Wally added. “Or Metropolis? It’s because of the little mind monkey’s message that we even know what they’re up to.”

“So someone else still higher up?” Superboy asked.  “Cadmus?”

Batman shook his head. “Not their style.”

“Then who?” Miss Martian asked.

“Does it really matter at this point?” Artemis frowned.

“Not at all,” Green Arrow matched her expression. “We need to inform the League and find them.”

“And save Rob.”

Batman looked at the team of teens then focussed on Kid Flash. “We will try, but-”

“No!” Wally snapped angrily. “No, not you! You do not get to give up on your son! We find them, we stop them, we save Rob! No buts!”

After a moment Batman nodded. “No buts.”

Chapter Text

There were no classes over the weekend, and yet there were hundreds of students about campus of the New York City College of Technology. Projects were being worked on, study groups were gathering, professors were holding office hours, and so word spread like wild fire when Wonder Woman had touched down outside the Physics building.

Her feet had barely lit on the ground before she was stalking up the stairs and into the three story brick building. Diana wanted to run through the near empty corridors, but was mindful of the stares turned her way at her already accelerated pace. She found the second floor office easily enough, the room number provided by the building directory posted on the first floor. She allowed a brief knock at the closed door before pushing it open.

The middle aged man looked up quickly at the sudden intrusion. His eyes widened at the identity of his guest, the pencil in his hand dropping back to the mass of papers spread out over the desk.

“Mr Jeremiah Solt?”

“Uh, yeah... Yes!” He stood suddenly, his chair rolling back at the rapid movement until it struck the wall behind him. “Yes, although it’s Dr Solt, or will be once I subm-”

“Mr Solt,” Wonder Woman interrupted as she nudged the door to close behind her as stepped inside. “You and I need to have a discussion about your dissertation that was stolen several days ago.”

“Best thing that ever happened,” the man managed without stuttering under her piercing gaze. “It made me rethink just about everything.”

“Did it change your speculation on what would happen if one such anomaly was opened inside the atmosphere?”

“No,” he shook his head, grave as his brilliant mind began to connect the dots. “Are you telling me-”

“You need to sit down now, Mr Solt,” Diana frowned, “then you will tell me everything.”

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“But I’ve already told you everything!” the blonde teenager snapped at the man in green sitting across the table from her.

“I have heard the recording of your interview-”

“You mean interrogation.”

Green Lantern scowled at the interruption but otherwise did not acknowledge it. “Your interview with Green Arrow, Batman, and Martian Manhunter.”

“So there’s nothing more I can tell you!” Artemis shouted, exploding out of her chair. “How many times do I have to tell you before you understand that?! I don’t know where that bastard would be hiding!”

John rubbed the bridge of hose trying to reign in his own frustration. “There are pieces missing, Artemis,” he tried to sound calm but failed miserably. “Even with everything you divulged when you came to the League, there are things you did not tell us about Sportsmaster.”

“That’s because I don’t know them!”

“Artemis,” M’gann had remained in the chair beside her friend and now reached up to place a comforting hand on the archer’s arm.

“It’ll be simpler this time around,” John tried to assure her. “We will be focussing on Sportsmaster only and anything he may have mentioned around you.”

“Which I already told them the first time,” the teen snarled and slumped back into her chair, her arms crossing over her chest. “I haven’t seen or spoken to him in almost a year – discounting the few words we exchanged while he was busy kidnapping one of my friends. I don’t know anything else!”

“Maybe not consciously,” the young Martian said carefully. “I can scan your thoughts, your subconscious memories, as you answer Green Lantern’s questions. I might be able to see something you can’t.”

“Already been done, Megan,” Artemis growled with aggravation.

“Your surface thoughts, yes,” the Lantern told her. “Martian Manhunter would have only scanned for signs of deception and ill intent. With your permission, Miss Martian can delve deeper.”

Megan took her friend’s hand in hers and squeezed it in reassurance. “You may not think it relevant, but there may be something you’ve pushed to your subconscious mind.”

Artemis worried at her lower lip, pinching it between her teeth, and looked at the two with a mixture of hope and anxiousness. “You honestly think I’ll know where that bastard took Robin?”

“If anyone has any chance,” John nodded slowly, “it’ll be you.”

With a sign of resignation, the blonde nodded. “Let’s do this thing then.”

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The heavy mace flew through the air and smashed into the wall with a resounding crunch as it buried itself. Hawkman was glaring furiously at the man in the holographic image before him. The dark haired hero was pale at the fury emanating from the winged man. “Come on, Hawk-”

“Shut up, Marvel!” the Thanagarian snarled. “Are you, or are you not, a member of this League?”

“Of course, but-”

“Then what part of an ‘Omega Level’ call is hard to understand?”

“I can’t very well just drop everything here!” the crimson clad hero snapped. “The last aftershock has the trapped miners worried about a second collapse!”

Hawkman leaned forward, his hands on the console as he sighed with the effort of controlling his temper. “Are they in any danger?”

“No, it’s stable and they’ve got supplies for days, but I can’t leave them down there just to come back to hunt for Batman’s sidekick!”

“Captain Marvel,” the winged hero growled through clenched teeth, “I want you to forget, just for a moment, that it’s Robin; forget that its one of our own that needs us; forget that these bastards have put some of our strongest members onto the injured list; forget that they may have succeeded in killing Superman. If this goes down like Batman says, then it’s the rest of this planet. Not hundreds, not thousands, but billions of lives that are at risk if they attempt to open the wormhole! So get off your red and gold ass and back to the States, now!”

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The cement floor was unforgiving and jarred his already aching arms when Robin was dropped uncaringly from Sportsmaster’s shoulder to the ground. Wishing for the relief that came with a lack of consciousness, having regained it only as the helicopter was landing, Robin groaned as he shifted his bound and battered body into a sitting position against the wall of the building he found himself in.

It was large and open, a warehouse that hadn’t seen use in years if the state of disrepair was any indication. Dozens of G-gnomes flitted about, swarming around Dubbilex as the telepathic creatures worked to assemble some sort of machine. Guardian spoke quietly to it before nodding and making his way to a set of flat-screen monitors.

Sportsmaster joined the helmed man as they stood in front of a camera and a few seconds later the screens flickered to life. Seven glowing figures illuminated the warehouse.

“Report.”

“The last components have been gathered,” Guardian bowed his head to the seven.

“The League?”

Sportsmaster snorted. “Ridiculous easy to manipulate; they will pose no problem.”

“Superman and the Flash have been taken out of the equation,” Guardian confirmed.

“Permanently?”

“Unknown at this time, but potentially.”

“The children; any casualties?”

“Sportsmaster got carried away subduing the Atlantean,” Guardian snarled in the mercenary’s direction. “He would have killed him had I not prevented him from doing so.”

“Like I had to stop you from choking Robin to death in Star City,” Sportsmaster returned the sneer.

“You assaulted the boy, Guardian?” The voice of one of the seven was surprised at the revelation.

The former hero hesitated. “I do not know what came over me, but what Sportsmaster says is true.”

“Maybe you broke him,” Robin spoke, forcing the strength into his voice despite the pain lacing through his throat. “Messing with people’s brains can do that.”

Sportsmaster moved quickly, stepping out of view of the camera and slugging their captive with a vicious right cross to the cheek. The back of Dick’s head split open under the force it struck the wall behind him with and he was knocked to his side on the ground. He groaned as he tasted blood in his mouth and glared up at the man standing over him.

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His knuckles ached after the last blow to the thug’s body, but Batman did not relent. He struck again, knowing the bruises his hands would be sporting in a matter of hours would be worth it if the schmuck now sliding down the brick wall knew anything.

“Sportsmaster,” the cowled vigilante snarled as he bent down and gripped the man’s blood stained collar.

Rapidly swelling eyes locked with the piercing gaze of Batman, coughing as the goon tried to regain his breath. “I don’t know, I swear! He ain’t been in Gotham for weeks!”

“Lie,” Batman lifted the man easily and tossed him across the alley and into the wall of the opposite building. He leapt onto the crook again immediately. “He was here, abducting a boy. Now where is Sportsmaster?!”

“I don’t know! Please! I don’t know!”

“Then you know who will.” Struggling to keep control, Batman pressed into the man until they were nose to nose. “I want a name, and I want it now!”

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The dry erase board had been clean when Diana had first walked in to the educator’s office. Now it was covered with quickly sketched diagrams as Mr Solt had attempted to explain his theory. The end result was a very confused Amazon Princess with a rapidly escalating migraine.

Wonder Woman pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger. “So an inanimate object would be pointless as a focal point? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Not at all,” the man glanced at his companion and swallowed at the expression of frustration on her face. “I’m just saying that the theorem is imprecise at best. Opening a tear without a focus could result in the creation of a black hole; everything within a certain distance of its gravitation pull collapsing into it.

“With an inanimate object, the tear could potentially open a portal to any point in the object’s existence.  However, it would have to be a specimen of such perfection to ensure the portal opened has only one focus. But everything is contaminated with something else. Nothing is completely elementally pure, so an inanimate object would be too risky. A portal with more than one focus could cause, in theory, a paradox that would unravel time and space.”

Why couldn’t he say that in the first place instead of prattling on for the last fifteen minutes, Diana would never know. “So what would be the point of possessing a nearly perfect natural diamond if one wanted to create a portal with such a tear?”

Mr Solt shrugged. “It would depend on the other components you suspect to be utilized as well. Most likely it would be used to concentrate the laser being used to ‘punch’ through the tear.”

“So if the diamond is not the focus, and no other object would be considered safe, what would be ideal to use?”

“An organic component would be best,” Mr Solt leaned against the wall as he considered. “Initial tests on a plant or insect with a specific life expectancy would ensure any portal successfully opened would be within a certain window of time. Expanding those tests to a large animal – a chimpanzee or ape perhaps – would expand that window. However, using a conscious mind would be the better course as one could theoretically control where in time the portal would open to.”

She felt ill. “A conscious mind; so you’re saying a human being?”

“Yes.”

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“Sportsmaster!” the warehouse reverberated at the shout of one of the seven. “Mind yourself, mercenary, the boy is not to be harmed.”

Guardian visibly winced at that and Robin could stop himself from laughing sardonically.  “A little late for that...”

A heavy silence fell and a moment later a different voice cut through the speakers. “Bring him forward, Sportsmaster.”

The man paled noticeably behind his mask and hesitated before reaching down, lifting the Boy Wonder to stand. Robin stumbled over his feet as he was frog-marched into view of the camera. There were several hissed gasps of surprise at his battered appearance and a new voice sounded menacingly through the warehouse.

“Why is he masked?”

“You wanted Robin,” Guardian answered with conviction. “There is no need for the knowledge of his true identity to pass beyond Sportsmaster and myself.”

“Very well,” a gentler voice spoke. “However, what you have done to the boy is unacceptable! He was not to be harmed! The point to this endeavour was to see the children protected. His condition-”

“Is none of your concern,” Sportsmaster spat as he tossed Robin aside and to the floor. “You wanted results and I’ve gotten you those results. You wanted the Bird? I got him for you! You wanted his cooperation? While it may not be willingly here he is waiting to accomplish what you want! You sit there in front of your cameras with your anonymity and we do what is necessary to see your ‘endeavour’ succeed! So suck it up and let us do our job!”

Quiet returned and nearly a full minute passed before a softer voice spoke. “Will he survive the opening? At least long enough to stabalize the portal?”

Robin’s already rapidly beating heart nearly stopped all together at that question. What portal?

“Dubbilex,” Guardian called to the G-gnome who joined them in view of the monitors.

The horned creature nodded to his superior and turned his attention to the quaking boy on the floor. The horns glowed softly and a moment later several of the smaller g-gnomes appeared with medical equipment. Dubbilex began a quick examination.**It is working, young one.**

Dick shook his head and tried to inch away from the creature. Working?! Whatever they’re planning on doing could kill me! Hell, it will kill me!! Guardian isn’t a hero anymore, he’s the bad guy! And you’re helping him do it!! I thought you were supposed to be helping me?!

 **But Guardian has begun to question his actions, he is realizing that he is not entirely in control of his own faculties. Your peril, at his hands, is awakening who he once was. In time he will be Guardian again.**

Will this be before or after he murders me?

“Dubbilex,” Guardian questioned, “Can we still utilise the boy?”

Tell him no! Please, don’t let them kill me!

The G-gnome stood and turned his back to their captive. “Yes. Despite his injuries he is still strong enough to survive the process, initially. The longer the portal is held, the likelier he will perish.”

“Then it’s time to begin. We expect a progress report within the hour.” The seven figures on the monitors disappeared.

“Bastard!” Robin snarled and kicked out at the creature, missing when Sportsmaster pulled him roughly to his feet again.

“Get him in to place,” Guardian ordered the mercenary.

“With pleasure,” the grin hidden behind the mask was as plain as day by the elated tone of Sportsmaster’s voice.

Despite Dubbilex’s claim of his strength, Robin was unable to fight the larger man as he was led toward the nearly completed contraption in the center of the warehouse.  It was circular in design, a donut-like construct seucred to the top of the machine. That was the least ominous part of it. Directly beneath it was a circle of six hooked arms, each ending in a razor sharp point. On the outside of that were two larger arms, longer and completed with the same deadly looking point. The face that he was being led into the center point of the arms was not boding well for his survival.

Sportsmaster suddenly spun his prisoner around and their eyes locked onto one another through their masks. “It’s a shame,” the man said in a smug whisper. “Poor Bruce Wayne will be getting ready to pay the Ransom tomorrow morning right now so I guess that means Batman won’t be here to watch you die.”

“You’re going to start monologuing now?” Robin grunted as the grip on his arms tightened, keeping him upright as several little g-gnomes appeared and released the padlock securing his shackled wrists behind his back.

“No monologuing,” Sportsmaster chuckled as he lifted the boy wonder’s arms above his head, spead-eagled, allowing a pair of g-gnomes to latch the manacles on Robin’s wrists to the machine’s framing just outside the donut-like component overhead. The mercenary took a step back, letting Robin’s weight hang from his weary arms. “I’m just letting you know your fate. See, I don’t think all of this is going to work. I think you’re going to die, painfully and completely alone. No Superman, no Batman, no little team, not one to come swooping in to save the day. And I’m going to watch it with a big smile on my face.”

Robin flinched when the arms surrounding him began to move, raising up and curling in around his legs. He cried out at the pain of the six razored points pierced his legs just below his knees. They continued pressing into his flesh until the tips met with bone, leaving Dick gasping for breath and fighting to remain conscious. He was brought out of his daze with the pain of the two longer arms inserting into the meat of his thighs, screaming in agony as he felt the points burrowing into his thigh bone.

Tears stung his eyes, working their way beneath his domino mask. He felt his strength leaving him and his head drooped to his chest as choked on the realization that Sportsmaster was right.

No one was coming to save him.

Chapter Text

For all the times he had been wounded there was one thing he knew with certainty: when the pain stops, you’re dead.

And Robin didn’t hurt anymore.

It had been several minutes since he’d been, in essence, crucified in the center of the machine. And in that time he had lost all sensation in his legs and even the burning of his muscles in his suspended arms had receded to be replaced by a numbing warmth that spread through the parts of his body he could feel.

It had been two days since he had anything to drink and even longer since he had eaten. The blood loss, external and he didn’t doubt internally, wasn’t helping. He was weary, his body running on reserves it didn’t have. The darkness was creeping in at the edge of his vision and he wanted nothing more than to let it take him. He was tired; tired of fighting.

And still he couldn’t bring himself to give up.

Through heavy, lidded eyes he watched the last of the g-gnomes as it skittered across the floor and toward the rest that stood behind Dubbilex. Robin’s gut burned at the betrayal of the creature and he couldn’t help but wish he had heat vision like Superman so he could burn the genetically engineered freak show into ash.

Guardian stood next to Sportsmaster, the two men hovering over computer console with bend heads. The mercenary still wore his face mask, but Guardian had removed his helmet. As if feeling his captive’s gaze on him, the young man looked up briefly before going back to his work.

Robin opened his eyes and stared. Young man…

A trace of his trademark smirk found its way onto his lips.

“You’re human, right?”

His damaged throat protested the words but they echoed softly in the quiet, drawing attention his way.

“What?” Sportsmaster snarled with narrowed eyes beneath his mask.

Robin ignored the mercenary and focused on the former hero. “Guardian, you’re human right? When were you born?”

“Irrelevant,” the man brushed the query aside, but the curiosity was there on his face.

“It’s a simple question. When were you born?”

Guardian sighed, walked away from the computer and toward Robin. “Must I gag you to keep you silent? This is delicate work and you would not enjoy the results should we make a mistake.”

“I’m dead either way,” Robin frowned grimly, and by the expression on Guardian’s face the other man knew the truth of that statement. “Humor me.”

“Very well, I was born in 1906.”

“Damn,” he murmured, feigning amazement. “When did you join the Metropolis PD?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You are Jim Harper, right? You were a cop in Metropolis before you took up the Superhero gig.” Robin was enjoying the stunned look on the other man’s face. “I’ve studied all the old-timer’s files. You were never part of the JL, but you did good work in your day.”

“Old-timer?”

“You’re human, right, and born in 1906?”

“Yes, but-”

“And Guardian first showed up in early ‘41, so you were mid thirties then and had probably a decade as a beat cop so you joined the force around 1928-”

“-1927, but-”

“-right, about 21? You get married?”

“No, but-”

“You were legal guardian to a bunch a kids though. Five I think?”

“Four, but-“

“Did they ever figure it out about you moonlighting as a Vigilante?”

“No, but-”

“They had to have suspected, considering you did the job for a couple of decades. When did you die?”

“1969.”

Before Robin could say anything, the air was viciously expelled from his lungs with Sportsmaster’s punch to the stomach. His legs pulled against the needles impaling them, tearing his flesh further and reigniting the pain throughout his body. Even so he wore a smug smirk at Guardian’s stunned expression.

“You’re surrounded by little genetically engineered monsters,” Robin wheezed in satisfaction. “Did you honestly think Superboy was Cadmus’ first run at cloning?”

“You’re done, boy,” Sportsmaster was growling as the mercenary silenced Robin with a thick leather belt over his mouth. It was tightened painfully, cutting the inside of his lips against his teeth. Dick tasted blood and he glared at the masked man. Guardian patted the boy’s cheek condescendingly. “Be thankful I don’t just cut out your tongue.”

Robin’s chin fell to his chest and he closed his eyes. He heard Sportsmaster drag the still shocked Guardian back toward the computer and order him back to work, but he didn’t care. It was a small victory, a petty one when he thought about, but he could only hope that the clone of the former hero would remember who he was created from and stop whatever the creepy Light guys had planned.

A few seconds later, the machinery around Robin began to hum and Guardian’s voice shakily announced “Genetic markers inputted and temporal tracking engaged.”

The last of Robin’s hope faded.

“You wonder why we picked you?”

Dull blue eyes opened and stared at Sportsmaster who stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest in satisfaction. 

 “What was about Robin that made us hunt you, watch you, learn all about Richard Grayson? Of all the junior capes, brats that have no business going up again people like me, why did it have to be you? You weren’t even the first, did you know that?  Other heroes have had their little side-kicks over the years, but most everyone forgets about them after a year or two. Why? Because they were useless, pointless, and when they died or grew up no one cared anymore.”

A pale purple light flickered across Sportsmaster’s mask and Robin felt a whisper of wind at his back that hadn’t been there a moment before.

“Temporal tracking at sixteen percent,” Guardian’s voice called.

“You got the Bat’s attention,” Sportsmaster continued. “It could be argued that he saw himself in you. You both witnessed your parents murdered. You were both left orphaned. You were both denied justice, so you sought your vengeance.”

Dick weakly shook his head. It wasn’t vengeance…

“Still, you shouldn’t have been so pivotal, neither of you. Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, you both should have gone back into the background. But you didn’t. You wouldn’t. And that’s what changed everything. You are nothing special – not meta-human, no special powers to justify what you do. You’re just a kid and still you’re out there facing off against guys like, and worse than, me. I got to admit, kid, I admire that”

The light was brighter now, the glow visible in his peripheral vision and not just reflected off Sportsmaster. The wind was stronger now, causing his hair to flip around his face.

“Temporal tracking at forty-eight percent.”

“Even so, you’re a pain in the ass.” Sportsmaster chuckled. “You brought all these other wannabes out of the wood work and now my employers have to think about keeping a bunch of kids in line and not just the capes.”

This was about controlling the Heroes? How-?

Seeing the question in his eyes, Sportsmaster answered. “I’m working for the good guys, this time. At least they like to think so. They want to control the heroes, save the world from people like Joker and Luther, by allowing the heroes to do what is necessary. They seem to think if they take you out of the equation, stop you before you become Robin – stop you before you brought back Batman’s humanity – then none of the others would take on their sidekicks, and then the capes would be willing to stop the big-bads permanently instead of their current humanitarian methods.”

Before… oh god! The last pieces fell into place. They’re opening a temporal worm hole! They’re creating a time portal!

“Temporal tracking at seventy-two percent.”

Robin shook his head, trying to pry his mouth open to warn them but the leather kept his lips pressed against his teeth. He shouted against the gag.

“You got something to say?” Sportsmaster laughed. “Too bad, bird boy. Getting too close to you now could mess things up – or so they tell me.”

With a glare worthy of Batman, Robin looked passed Sportsmaster and toward Dubbilex. Tell them! Tell them it won’t work!

The telepath’s horns glowed as the connection was made. **Perhaps it will.**

No, Robin growled in his head, aware that Sportsmaster and Guardian were cognitive of the telepathic conversation. Not how they want! Even if by some miracle the wormhole is stable, whoever goes back won’t change anything now! They’d create another timeline and this one will keep going on its current path! You can’t change the past! Only create another future!”

“Temporal tracking at eighty percent.”

Sportsmaster and the rest suddenly staggered as the ground began to shake. Robin inhaled sharply through his nose at the pain that came with the quaking. The air around him became heavy and the wind stilled, though the light caused the mercenary to turn away.

Dubbilex moved quickly to another computer and monitor. “The portal integrity is at ninety-three percent and dropping; attempting to stabilize.”

“Temporal tracking at eighty-eight percent.”

Broken images flashed across Dick’s vision. Something inside him broke and he screamed his agony beneath the leather gag.

“Shut it down!” Sportsmaster shouted after he was thrown to the ground when the shaking intensified.

Nostrils’ flaring with each panicked breath, Robin was aware of an explosion of sparks through the mass of overlaying images. He was seeing things, hallucinating – the only explanation why he was seeing the circus, his childhood home, the same time he was watching his parents fall to their death, all while seeing Wayne Manor rising up in the windshield of the town car he was riding – he screamed again and threw his head back trying to get away from the images.

“Power circuits have fused open, I can’t shut it down!” Guardian’s voice was frantic. “Tracking at ninety-three percent!”

“Portal integrity dropping to sixty percent!”

“Tracking at ninety-five percent! Get that portal stable before we tear the timeline apart! Ninety-seven!”

Kill me! Robin screamed mentally at the head g-gnome. Kill me and it stops!

“Integrity down to fifty-one percent!” Dubbilex cried over the sound of metal twisting and the roar of the earthquake. “Kill the boy!”

“Ninety-eight!”

Sportsmaster moved like lightning, leaping to his feet as he drew his hunter’s blade from his belt. With a casual flip he took the tip of the knife between his fingertips.

“Ninety-nine!”

Robin felt his chest seize as his heart stuttered, his lungs burning as he could no longer breath through the pain and atmosphere pressing in around him. His eyes fell to Sportsmaster and he watched, begging for death, as the man pulled his arm back and flung the blade toward him.

And the world exploded in a blinding purple light.

Chapter Text

He got a name.

One he should have realized before he wasted his time beating it from those street thugs.

Paula Crock.

Artemis’ mother and Sportsmaster’s wife; there wasn’t an ‘ex’ in front of that. The woman was still married to the man that had kidnapped Robin.

Batman was fuming by the time he had climbed through the small apartment’s window.

She was waiting for him.

“When Artemis did not return home after school that day, I anticipated your arrival.” She wheeled her chair around the furniture until she was only a few feet away from the Dark Knight. “I suppose it only natural for you to be distracted by your concern for Bruce Wayne’s ward.”

“His son,” Batman snarled, his voice like venom. 

Paula cringed and looked away for a moment before screwing up her courage and facing him again. “He was not always so heartless,” she told him quietly. “There was a time he would not have harmed a child. They were off limits, but I suppose everything has its price these days. Lawrence still has many hideouts and safe houses throughout Gotham, places Artemis would not be aware of.”

“Where?”

“It would depend on what he was hired to do with the boy. Ransom, there’s a subbasement in Old Gotham he would use; Delivery, the train yard off Grant Park.”

“And for something more nefarious?”

“Again, it would depend on his time line. If it was to be immediate, I’d suggest looking for the boy’s body near the reservoir. It he had time to… play, there’s a warehouse in Rogers Yacht Basin; number 128.”

 He wasted no time leaving the woman and leaping down to the waiting Batmobile. The vehicle was moving before the hatch closed.

Seeing the fabled black car speeding through the streets of Gotham was not a completely unusual sight, but the recklessness in which is weaved through traffic – even going as far as cutting around on sidewalks – never slowing for anything was to be talked about for weeks to come.

At least it would have been, had things not happened as they did.

Batman was flying thought the evening traffic onto the Sprang Bridge when the first tremors shook the structure. The vigilante didn’t feel them inside the Batmobile, but he noticed several smaller cars swerve as the bridge shuddered. Then a few more lost control completely as the quake intensified, forcing Batman to slam on the breaks when a transit bus was side-swiped by a pickup just in front of him. He skidded, turning hard on the wheel in an effort to stop from colliding with either vehicle and desperate to keep the speeding Batmobile from rolling. The compact car that had been beside him swerved, leaping over the concrete meridian and into oncoming traffic, causing a chain reaction that crumpled several more vehicles.

In a matter of seconds, the evening traffic was filled with smoke and flames, screams and cries. Traffic wasn’t moving on or off the bridge as the structure was now being tossed about by an earthquake unheard in Gotham. Brick and mortar broke off the decorative spires in large chunks, falling to the stilled vehicles below and into the churning waters of The Sprang River.

Several tonnes of concrete fell around the Batmobile, the stones bowing the metal and pinning the breathless man inside as the supports groaned their protests to their unnatural movements. Steel girders snapped like twigs and the bridge lurched as it was suddenly dropped nearly a dozen feet toward the waters below. For a heartbeat, everything was silent as the helpless commuters were momentarily suspended.

And then the Sprang Bridge crumbled into the frigid water.

Batman was jarred by the impact and spray of water that found entry through the battered chassis. He regained his senses only to become aware of his predicament, one shared by nearly a hundred souls that were on the bridge.  Even as he fought for escape and he came to accept the inevitable, the anger that surged through him was not for him or the innocents dying around him.

“Robin!” He screamed as he pushed against the overhead hatch, desperate for an escape that wouldn’t be found. The twisted metal nearly wrapped around him, trapping him in his seat and not allowing for much movement. He tried reaching for the controls only to have them spark and short out when the water reached the compromised wiring. He stretched for a compartment where he kept the re-breathers, but the latch to open it was still several inches from his fingertips. The water was nearing his chest.

He swallowed the thump in his throat and tried to ignore the ache in his chest which had nothing to do with any potential injury. He had been close; he knew it had only been a matter of minutes before he would have found his son. But now, he would die here and his son… “No!”

The Batmobile settled into the debris on the riverbed and he started punching at the bullet-proof glass of the windows and windshield wherever he could reach. The water was nearing his shoulders and it would only be second before he was completely submerged. He felt the knuckles on his hand give beneath his assault on the window, blood seeping into the inside of his gauntlets.

He was forced to stop when the water was up to his chin, making it impossible for him to breathe unless he stretched his neck and tilted his head in the miniscule air pocket that was rapidly disappearing. “I’m sorry…” he spat the foul tasting river water from his mouth.

“RICHARD!” He screamed one last time before the water surged completely over his head.

Bruce Wayne fought against death, pushing and pulling and desperate for any means out of the watery death awaiting him. The cry for his son had cost him what precious oxygen he had and his struggles weakened. His lungs burned and he closed his eyes, waiting for that involuntary gasp for air that would spell his end.

Metal screeched around him and the pressure encasing his body was gone so suddenly he almost didn’t recognize it. Then impossibly strong arms were grabbing him and he was launching out of the water. As he drew in a ragged breath, Batman listened to his surroundings. Screams, sirens, and the roar of the earth tearing itself apart assaulted his hearing.  A moment later he was being carefully deposited on the river banks.

“Batman,” a familiar yellow and red insignia filled his vision and he glanced up at the Man of Steel, “are you all right?”

Never before had Bruce been so glad to see the boy-scout. “I know where Robin is.”

Superman spared a glance for the River and the screams for help, but with no hesitation in his voice he turned back to the Dark Knight. “Let’s go save your son.”

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The grunt of pain as the blade slid into flesh was not unexpected, but Robin was surprised to find it didn’t come from him.

He had been anticipating the feel of the deadly blade for an eternity, but it had never come. Everything had stilled around him, no movement, no sound, and in that void of time he saw his life – past, present, future, every possible outcome of every decision he had ever made or would make – and it was driving him insane. No matter how brilliant a mind he possessed, no one was meant to see what he saw.  He was welcoming death, when it was unexpectedly turned away.

A lithe arm snapped across his line of vision and intercepted the flying blade. Its tip tore into a familiar black-gloved forearm and it plunged through the arm, between the bones and out the other side. It stopped a breath away from Robin’s barely moving chest.

“Goddamn,” a young voice hissed in pain and Robin followed the now impaled arm was drawn back against a familiar red tunic. “Guess I misjudged that one… whoa! Close the eyes kid!”

Gloved fingertips quickly covered the white lenses of Dick’s domino mask. Robin wanted to fight, but his body was no longer responding. Still, his distress was noted when his breathing hitched.

“Hey, hey relax there, Dickie-bird,” the voice was obviously gritted in pain but still tried to sooth the captive hero. “Sorry, but ya got the creepy all-seeing-cosmic-eyes thing goin’ on. I could see them glowin’ around your mask. Kinda freakin’ me out here… prolly no better for you huh? Can’t imagine what yer seein’- can never know when playin’ ‘round with time. Thought Bruce would have taught ya that by now. Keep ‘em closed, will ya? Better for ya and I won’t have to look at it. They closed?”

With no real choice, Robin let his lids close and nodded. The hand was taken away from his face but he kept his lids tightly shut. Whoever this was, he was right. With his eyes closed he didn’t see everything, and he could hear his would-be rescuer muttering under his breath.

“-s’all stopped outside… Shit, this is weird. What did ya expect when ya jump through a portal without - ah damn, Dick, what they hell have they done to ya?”

Slitting his eyes open, Robin tried to focus on what was real.

… he held the pairs arms, each with one twisted viciously behind their back, keeping them next to him as the inferno raged around them. ‘Do you have any idea what it feels like to burn to death? Residents on floors one through three probably died instantly when your bomb went off. But four and five… the floors fell through on them.’

The grey masked woman whimpered, “No, no…!”

The flames licked at their feet, the heat singeing the trio even through their costumes, and he wasn’t done yet. They had to pay… “They were crushed, trapped, they died of internal injuries and smoke inhalation.

The other man was terrified. “It was suppose to be empty! He told us it would be empty!”

Dick  ignored him. “And floor six… They BURNED.”¹

- no, no that wasn’t him! That couldn’t possibly be-

...“Better put that down. My partner hates guns.”

“Think again, kid.” the ski masked goon lying on the pavement at his feet started to lift the pistol.

The adrenaline surging through him was something he normally felt flying, and did he love it! “Your mistake.” He leapt just before the first shot was fired, the slug gouging the asphalt at his feet.

He flipped head over feet, touching the ground for only a fraction of a second before he was moving again. “Stand still!” The shots continued to thunder around him, some so close he could feel the displaced air over his exposed legs.

And suddenly the crack of the gun stopped, leaving only a pathetic clicking and the bewildered  grunt of the good, followed almost instantly by his breath violently expelling from his lungs as Rick’s heel buried itself in the man’s gut.

He was tying the cable around the thug’s wrists when the voice sounded behind him.

“You counted shots?”

Satisfaction tugged at his lips. “This model holds eight in the magazine.”

“And...?”

“One in the chamber. That’s nine.”

He turned his head just in time to catch the hint of a smile on his partner’s face. “So you were listening.”²

- already happened. Almost four years-

…Batman didn’t hesitate to slam the mercenary’s head into the concrete rubble beneath them. The man stilled and Batman crouched unfazed beside him. “It’s over, Deathstroke.”

They stood there, amongst the bodies and devastation, realizing that the fight was out of their hands now. At least, it should have been.

“So you realize what you’ve done?” They spun around to see the armored Luthor youth hovering above and behind them. His gauntlet’s glowed with deadly violet energy. “You’ve damned this earth. You’ve ruined everything!”

Nightwing was moving the instant before those hands were raised toward his mentor. “Batman! Look out- ARRGHH!”

The blast tore into him and sent him flying across the battlefield. He heard Bruce cry out his name as he landed, Luthor’s shout for more power. Coppery fluid rapidly filled his mouth and he was choking on it even as it flowed down his cheek and around his head. Robin’s horrified and panicked blue eyes filled his fading vision...³

-the outfit was different, but there was no denying the stylized ‘R’ on the other boys breast. Dick watched as Batman’s green-eyed protégé hissed between clenched teach as he withdrew the thick blade from his arm. There was a hint of amusement mingled with the pain as green met blue.

“Ya still with me, Dickie-bird?”

Despite his desire for the contrary, he nodded.

“Good, cuz ya check out of me and this was a wasted trip.” The other Robin took a step toward the contraption imprisoning his counterpart. “I can either close the portal, or I can get ya out of that. I can’t do both. So, I’m thinkin’ I save the world – cuz I tell ya, it’s fallin’ Armageddon out there - and leave ya to Batman. I promise ya, he’s comin’; they all are. Ya just need to hold on a little longer. Can ya do that?”

Weakly, he nodded again.

“Of course ya can; yer Robin.” The worlds held a touch of resentment, but the other Robin smirked none-the-less and clutched the bloody blade tightly in his fist. “Close yer eyes again, Dickie-bird. Things are about to get real messy.”

Roaring like an animal, the other spun around and threw the blade toward the consol. When it struck, it was like a bubble bursting. The purple light that had enveloped Dick vanished in an instant, the wind rushing past him as the portal was suddenly closed behind him. The images of other times and worlds stopped, the sounds of the outside world returned, the frozen bodies of Guardian and Sportsmaster started moving again.

The stunned pair stared in wonder at the sudden appearance of a second Robin standing protectively in front of their captive. Blood dripped from the Other’s arm, staining the floor at his feet as he shifted into a fighting stance. A venomous snarl curled the Other’s lips. “Let’s see how you like playing with this Robin.”

Chapter Text

Batman felt his skin start to crawl the moment Superman set them on the roof of the warehouse. The windows had been blown out during the quake, the building supports groaning with the resulted shifting of walls and foundation. It was standing, but only just.

The Dark Knight was moving to the roof access, the door easily ripped off its rusted hinges. The stairs had collapsed, but neither hero was deterred. Batman leapt down, his cape billowing behind him and slowing his decent until he touched down on the top of the crumbled staircases. The door to the main floor was blocked by debris, but Superman lit easily next to him and without a word made a new entrance through the wall.

The interior was a disaster.

Computer consoles were ablaze, smoke filling the room in a haze, support columns tilted precariously, the elevated ceiling has collapsed in several place. Then there were the bodies. Dozens of the little g-gnomes were broken and bloody, and the charred remains of a humanoid horned being lay a few feet from the smoking husk of a large computer terminal.  But of Sportsmaster and Guardian there was no sign.

“Bruce,” Superman’s voice was thick and when he had the Batman’s attention he exhaled slowly, blowing the smoke away from what the Kryptonian had seen.

The device was still in one piece. It’s metal structure apparently the only thing keeping the entire floor above from completely caving in. Mechanical arms reached down from the ceiling, finger-like claws curling up from the floor, blood seeping from around the blade deep within crimson-clad chest.

Batman didn’t realize he was moving until he was suddenly standing beside his son. He pulled at the razor sharp needs imbedded in the boy’s legs, refusing to acknowledge how slowly blood trickled from the wounds or the lack of response from Robin. He stepped inside the ring, reaching up for the manacles.

Superman watched the other man, his inhuman senses seeing what Batman would not. “Bruce-”

“Help me!” the father roared when he couldn’t free the wrists from the shackles.

Clark swallowed the rising grief and focused his vision. An instant later the metal connecting the metal cuffs to the arms snapped under the laser heat and the body crumpled into Batman’s arms.

Stepping away from the torturous contraption, Batman tenderly laid the boy on the floor. “Robin,” he called softly, gloved fingered removing the bloody leather gagging the boy before moving carefully to lift the domino mask from a too-pale face.

Superman choked on the thump that formed in his throat.

The eyes, once bright and sparking with life, were open wide with pain and dull in death. Everything that Dick had felt in those last seconds of life was laid bare on his fact; through the injuries, the hopelessness and despair, burned the realization that Batman wasn’t going to save him this time.

“Oh god,” a soft voice moaned from behind Superman and the man of steel turned to see Young Justice standing at the entrance he had created.

Artemis had stepped ahead of the others, unconsciously moving toward the now trembling Batman. Miss Martian was weeping quietly into Superboy’s chest, the clone’s eyes shut tight with his arms around the female offering what support he could. Wally just stood there, staring at the body of his best friend. Roy had pushed past the rest, his boots thundering in the silence as he ran and slid to his knees across from Batman.

The young archer tore his gloves from his hand, his shaking fingers pressing against the pulse point on the throat. Roy let his head drop after only a second. “He’s still warm…” the hush sob tore through the silence.

“He hasn’t been dead long, only a few minutes at most.” Batman spoke in a voice that none had heard before – not even Superman. It was cold, empty, hollow… and absolutely terrifying.

A keening wail shattered the night and Artemis was running. With tears streaming from beneath her mask she leapt through a broken window pane, her scream carrying on the wind a promise of retribution. “FATHER!”

Superboy was right behind her, his efforts to comfort the sobbing Martian forgotten.

Wally still hadn’t moved.

Before Superman could decide whether to chase after the teens or to remain behind for Bruce, Batman was scooping the body of his protégé into his arms effortlessly.  He carried the boy toward the exit.

Clark was next to the man instantly, ignoring the sudden ill feeling he had at the closeness of the kryptonite beneath the cuffs. “Bruce, let me-”

Even that minute weakening was enough for Batman. With an animalistic roar he twisted, as only the Batman could while carrying a dead body, and drove the heel of his foot into the Man of Steel’s sternum. Superman staggered back and to one knee, looking up at his friend in shock.

The hatred burning in Bruce’s eyes pierced him as much as his own laser sight would have. “I told you,” he snarled. “We’re done.”

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… Two days later…

His nostrils flared as he bent his head and gripped the edge of the desk he stood next to. He had done all he could and it hadn’t been enough. He lifted his eyes, looking longingly at the form of his wife within her containment capsule while he thought of the similar contraption he had finished constructing only minutes before.

“Victor,” the voice was icier than the specially contained room in the caverns below Wayne Manor.

Dr Fries stood straight and turned around to face the man that was Batman. In all his years facing off against the caped crusader he would never have imagined the Billionaire Playboy to be the man behind the mask. But then Batman had torn through Arkham the same night of the freak Earthquake that nearly decimated the east coast. The hero had bodily removed him from his cell, past the unconscious and wounded guards and orderlies, and to the waiting jet. Minutes later he was being escorted through the catacombs of the Batcave and to a room where the body of a young man lay on a table. An older gentleman sat next to the corpse, hands clutched together in his lap as the tears fell unchecked. When Victor saw the face of the boy – the face that he had seen on the television in the Arkham rec-room constantly for the last three days – he spun to face his enemy only to be greeted by a father’s grief. 

Bruce Wayne’s plea of, “Save him, please,” was all the villainous Mr Freeze needed.

Within an hour the body was processed and treated much as he had his beloved Nora. The boy had been deceased less than a few hours. The trauma was extensive, and the knife blade that penetrated the heart was definitely a problem. But as he had seen with his wife when she had died, there was still minute brain activity even hours after death. The boy was no different. The heart was broken, the lungs unresponsive, but there was still life within the tissue of the brain.

And so he worked. He submersed the boy in the cryogenic fluid, worked his genetic genius to repair the external injuries and even some internal within a matter of hours. But the damage to the boy’s heart-

“I did not find you in the lab, Victor,” Bruce stood in the doorway.

“No,” the doctor shook his head.

“You built the capsule,” the statement sent a stab of fear through Victor’s icy heart.

“I thought it best,” Dr Fries met the billionaire’s blue eyes. “I removed the handle of the blade, but the knife-“

“The capsule, Victor,” Wayne leveled a glare at the other man.

Mr Freeze swallowed his fear.  “He is preserved, much as my Nora.” He glanced over at his wife. “The damage to the tissue is too extensive; it cannot be repaired only replaced.”

“Then find him a new heart!” the father’s voice thundered through the caverns. “Transplants are done every day in this country! Replace his!”

“I – I’m afraid that is not possible.” Victor steeled himself under Wayne’s stare. “The process to keep him in cryogenic suspension has altered his genetics. There in only one possible match on the entire planet.”

“You’re wife.”

Fries shook his head. “No, the disease that has ravaged her body has permeated her very genetic code. Even should his body accept hers as a donor heart, without the cure he would be dead within a matter of days. The only viable heart would by my own. However, there is no other being on this earth with the knowledge of how to sustain the cryogenic process while performing the transplant. He would die.”

Bruce Wayne stared him down, searching for the lie he would not find.

“I’m sorry, Mr Wayne – Bruce,” Victor spoke softly. “There is nothing more to be done.”

“Then of what use are you,” the British voice of Alfred sounded angrily behind the motionless father. 

In the eyes of the two men, Victor saw his end.

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… three months after The Quake …

“Welcome back. If you’re just tuning in I’m joined tonight by Bruce Wayne: Billionaire, Bachelor, bereaved, and, as we just revealed before the break, Batman! Mr Wayne – Bruce – why now? After all these years, why come forward and publicly expose yourself as the Vigilante Batman?”

“My son was murdered.”

“Richard Grayson?”

“Yes. He witnessed his parents’ brutal killing, much as I had as a child. But I refused to let him go through that alone as I had. I took him in, at first just to provide a support for a grieving little boy. But Dick… you’d met him, Vicki. You knew what he was like. With one look, just one smile, he got beneath your skin and into your heart. He may not have been my blood, but he was my son in every other way that mattered.”

“Yes, Richard was a very special boy, Bruce. He was also Robin to your Batman, was he not?”

“That’s right. I know a lot of people were critical of Robin when he first started out, but he quickly proved to them he had not only the right, but the skill and talent to be out with Batman. Besides, it’s not like he gave me much of a choice. When Dick wanted something, he wouldn’t let anyone tell him he couldn’t. He was determined to fight beside Batman.”

“You miss him.”

“Of course I do. He was my partner, but more importantly he was my son. And it’s for him that I came to you, Vicki. He deserves justice and as long as Richard Grayson was unknown as Robin there would be none.”

“Why is that?”

“Three months ago, he was kidnapped from his school.”

“I remember. Gunmen infiltrated the Gotham Academy and took him.”

“Sportsmaster took Dick Grayson, but they wanted Robin.”

“Sportsmaster, a.k.a. Lawrence Crock, his body was delivered by his own daughter, Artemis Crock who is yet to stand trial for his murder - to Police Headquarters the morning after the Quake. Are you saying he knew Robin’s identity?”

“Regrettably, yes. It took months of investigation and a lucky image captured by chance on a security camera.”

“So why did he want Robin?”

“Leverage against Batman and the Justice League. At least, that is what was assumed at first. Sportsmaster wasn’t a criminal mastermind. He was a mercenary, working for whoever paid his fees. He was in actuality working for a group of men who wanted to rewrite history. They believed that if they prevented Dick from becoming Robin they stop the rest of Earth’s heroes from training the next generation. They attempted to open a temporal wormhole and use Dick’s genetic code to create a portal to his past. It might have worked, if their treatment of my son over his days of captivity hadn’t been so torturous. They electrocuted him, mind raped him, starved him, beat him, kept him bound and chained the entire time-”

“… Take all the time you need, Bruce. We understand how difficult this is for you.”

“He was just a boy, barely into his teens, and they treated him worse than most prisoners of war. His body was so broken and battered… it’s no wonder the portal they opened was unstable.”

“Resulting in the devastating earthquake that saw Long Island sink into the North Atlantic Ocean, killing millions. Why did the Justice League do nothing then? Surely between the hundreds of Heroes in their ranks they had the means to mount a rescue for your son before it some to such a catastrophic end!”

“He was only a boy. Superman himself told me the risk wasn’t worth Dick Grayson’s life.”

“Risk?”

“I will never forget what he told me. He said, and I quote: The truth is, Bruce, is that he's just one boy. Albeit a very special boy, but with the discovery of his civilian identity, Robin's kidnapping could potentially expose us all. If the media gets winds of the connection between Bruce Wayne's adopted son and Batman's sidekick, it won't be long before the whole house of cards crumbles around the entire League.”

“So he was worried about is secret identity.”

“Something I can appreciate, but even when I had leads to Sportsmaster’s whereabouts and what their plans might be, I was ordered to stand down. To do nothing while they were doing god knew what to my son. “

“So what happened?”

“I ignored him. Artemis Crock is a member of a covert team I created. She and several other protégés were tired of being treated like children. They were all in their mid to late teens, and while not legally considered adults, they had seen more in their time as ‘sidekicks’ that they were more than able to work and train to be even better than their mentors. They disobeyed Superman’s orders and investigated the leads I gave them. I was being watched by both the media – as Dick’s father – and the League. They were the ones who discovered the true agenda.”

“That is when Superman and the League intervened?”

“Too little too late. By the time we found where they had Robin, it was too late. The portal was destabilizing too rapidly and the computer controls were fried. Artemis got her father’s confession on tape. He killed my son to stop what they couldn’t control.”

“To save the world?”

“To save themselves. They couldn’t have cared less about the world. Just like Superman and the rest of the League couldn’t have cared less about Dick. They were willing to sacrifice the life of one boy to protect their secrets. They could have prevented all the deaths, the destruction, all of it… all they had to do was save my son. They’re there for the cleanup, sure. Let’s credit them with that, but even now they still refuse to acknowledge that their lack of actions cost not only Dick Grayson his life, but the life of millions.”

“So what now, Bruce?”

“Justice, Vicki. That’s all this has ever been about. It’s why I became Batman, it’s why Dick became Robin. Not to play dress up and be the hero, we never cared about any of that. All I – all he ever wanted was Justice. I turned myself in.”

“I’m sorry, what?!”

“I went to the Government and turned myself over to the Justice Department. I revealed myself as the Batman and my part in the manslaughter of millions of American Citizens.”

“… I – I –”

“It’s simple, Vicki. Because I let Superman and the rest of the League dictate my response to the abduction of my son, because I refused to do what was necessary to save him despite the risk to our secrets, everything happened as it did and millions died. If someone’s inaction or negligence resulted in even a single death they are charged with involuntary manslaughter. Being Batman, I knew the potential dangers Robin’s kidnapping posed. I should have listened to my heart and screw Superman and the League. But I didn’t. I am just as responsible for the deaths of every human being on Long Island as Sportsmaster and those who hired him.”

“Bruce, is Batman going to prison?”

“No. I had a long talk with many representatives of our government and had an intense meeting with the President. In exchange for evidence to prosecute those responsible for the Long Island Disaster, I – or I should say Batman has been deputized by the United Stated Government. I and my people have full Presidential approval to, by any means necessary, bring down those responsible.”

“Your people? You mean the Justice League?”

“No. I mean my people: Roy Harper aka Red Arrow, Kaldur 'Ahm aka Aqualad, Wally West aka Kid Flash, Conner Kent aka Superboy, M'gann M'orzz aka Miss Martian, Alfred Pennyworth aka Agent A, and Artemis Crock. As I am speaking with you, she is receiving a Presidential pardon for her involvement in her father’s death and being released from Juvenile Detention.”

“What about the League, then, Bruce? Will you be recruited any of them?”

“Some, yes. Most of the members of Justice League of America had no idea what was going on. When they were finally told of Robin’s situation many of them were justifiably angry that they had been kept uninformed and that no action had taken place.”

“What of Superman? Wonder Woman? You three are the most recognizable heroes on the planet? Surely they would be of use to you and your efforts?”

“I wish it were possible, Vicki, but as it is, as of this moment there are warrants for the arrests of each of the founding members of the Justice League.”

“Arrest?! What are the charges?”

“7,568,304 counts of manslaughter.”

“So you’re just going to walk into the Hall of Justice and arrest your former comrades in arms?”

“Not at all Vicki. I will not be arresting Superman or Wonder Woman or any of the others. These warrants are for the arrests of Clark Kent aka Superman, Diana Prince aka Wonder Woman, Barry Allen aka The Flash, Hal Jordan aka Green Lantern, King Orin aka Aquaman and J'onn J'onzz aka Martian Manhunter.”

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1 A.Q. (After the Quake)

It was stupid.

He knew that.

He knew that when he had first had the idea.

He knew that when he removed the first lug-nut.

Yup, stealing the tires from the Batmobile was a stupid idea.

A very stupid idea.

Juvenile delinquent Jason Todd twisted his wrists against the plasti-cuffs securing his hands behind the back of the chair he sat in. They weren’t coming off unless cut off, and Batman had found the jack-knife in his pocket.

Yes, a very, very stupid idea.

In the dark of the Batcave – okay, so maybe that  was more than a little cool  - the street urchin watched the Batman as he worked at a seriously large computer. The screen was split into a hand full of smaller screens, each with a recognizable face.

“Oliver says the takeover of Lexcorp is going well,” Roy Harper, aka Red Arrow, told his leader. “With Luthor on his way to death row everyone’s chomping at the bit to get on with Wayne-Queen Industries.”

“Like that’s a surprise,” Superboy snorted his amusement.

“Any luck with the Amazon’s, M’gann?”

“Sorry Bruce,” the alien beauty shook her head. “They’re still refusing our petitions for Diana’s extradition. They say she has diplomatic immunity for any and all actions she may have taken as Wonder Woman.”

“Talk to the First Lady again, M’gann. She and Queen Hippolyta have been having ‘tea’ for years. If anyone can get Hippolyta to turn over Wonder Woman, it’ll be her. Wally, what about your uncle?”

“Barry’s gone to ground. Went as far as leaving Aunt Iris divorce papers and a letter asking for forgiveness for his part in Long Island. I don’t think we’ll be seeing him any time soon. But I’m not going to stop looking.”

“Ah, Bruce?” the stunning blonde raised an eyebrow.  “Why do you have a kid tied and gagged in the Batcave?”

“Eeth uh atharg!” Jason grunted around the fabric cleaved between his lips.

Roy smirked in amusement. “We know he’s a bastard, kid.”

“He’s a thief. Ignore him.” Bruce Wayne growled, through a hint of something tugged at his lips.

“What did he still, the Batmobile?” Conner joked.

Silence reigned and Jason couldn’t stop the satisfaction from gleaming in his jade eyes.

Wally barked a laugh. “Holy crap, he jacked the car?!”

“The tires,” Bruce reluctantly admitted amidst peals of laughter from his team. “Now, if there is nothing left in your reports, I will see you all tonight in Washington for the Memorial Service.”

Once the screen had gone blank, the man who was Batman turned in his chair and leveled a steady gaze at his captive. Jason stared right back, although his heart was racing a mile a minute. He’d just sat through – albeit involuntarily – a meeting of the founding members of Batman Inc.!

When the chair he was secured to suddenly started to roll backward, he was momentarily confused. Then dust and small rocks started to fall from the rock ceiling over head. Batman was leaping toward him and pushing them out of the way when the stalactite suddenly crashed into the exact spot Jason had been.

And then the shaking started.

Bruce lifted the boy easily of the chair and started running, weaving around the rocks falling as the earthquake tried to bring the ceiling down on them. He was pressed up against a thick archway he hadn’t seen as it was hidden behind the computer. The metal was cold, to the point of burning his exposed skin, but at that moment he didn’t care. Wayne protected him with his own body, curling around the bound youth as the world around them crumbled.

The appearance of a purple light at the corner of his sight had him looking past the Batman’s body and into the dark beyond the archway. His breath caught in his throat as he saw the swirling violet… something forming behind a giant glass container. Frost covered the glass, obscuring what was suspended inside, but what he saw inside the swirling light was more than enough the keep his attention.

He saw a boy, older than him, hanging in some kind of machine and coming face to face with death as a deadly hunting knight was flying toward him.  It was the mask and uniform that gave away was he was seeing.

Eyes wide, Jason looked up at Batman.

The man was staring at the image, eyes glistening in the purple hue.  “Dick-”  

As suddenly as it began, it was over. The shaking stopped, the light faded, and the vision was gone.

The pair stayed where they were a few minutes later before a British voice calling for Bruce from outside in the cave brought them both back to the present. “Back here, Alfred!”

Eyeing his captive critically, Wayne pulled a batarang from somewhere on his person and turned Jason around. The plasti-cuffs were cut off and when the older man stepped into the room Jason wasted no time in untying his gag and letting it drop to the floor.

“What the hell?!”

“That was a time portal.” Bruce stood in front of the ice covered capsule, his hand reverently resting against the glass. “No one has seen this.  Only Alfred and I even know it exists.”

“K, big bat secret, I’m followin’ ya, but did ya just say a time portal? As in time travel? As in-”

“As in the same thing that caused the Long Island Disaster and Master Richard’s death,” Alfred stepped into the room. “Were you hurt, Master Bruce?”

Batman shook his head. “It opened here, Alfred.” The man said breathlessly. “We could never figure when the other end of the portal opened to since it was in a constant state of flux. But it opened here, now.”

“Sir?”

“It was Robin,” Jason spoke up when it was apparent that Bruce was lost in his thoughts. “I mean, we saw ‘im, in the portal thingy. Is that-”

“His body,” Bruce swiped his hand over the frosty glass, clearing a patch large enough to expose the young hero’s serene face. “But he’s not dead.”

Okay… say what?

“WHAT?!”

A hand fell onto Jason’s shoulder and he looked up into the face of Agent A. “When Batman brought Robin back to the cave, a spark of life was discovered. There was still some brain activity. So he went to the one man who might have helped.”

“Who, Mr Freeze?!”

“Exactly,” Bruce turned away from his encased son and turned his eye to Jason. “Even with Freeze dead, there was still hope that someone else may at some point in the future find the means to bring Dick back. But now, that doesn’t matter.”

“Sir?”

“The portal opened here, Alfred! They used Dick’s genetic code to create the portal, to have something to track back through time. The reading’s recovered from the computers showed multiple points of temporal piercing. They didn’t open just one portal, but got knows how many.  So if it opened here, in the future once, it can do it again. And as long as it’s tracking Dick’s DNA, it will track this body. It will open here. Again.”

“Merciful heavens,” Alfred breathed.

“So what?” Jason looked between the two men, not liking the way Batman kept looking at him.

“So, when it opens again, we go through.”

Jason gulped. “We?”

“We. We’re going to save Robin.”

Yes, a very, very, VERY stupid idea.

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… 5 A.Q. (After the Quake)

“You know what you’re to do?”

“We’ve been over this, Bruce, more times than I’d care to remember.”

“Do it again.”

*sigh* “Enter the portal, stop the blade and save Dickie-bird-”

“Don’t call him that.”

“Close the portal – Seriously, ya okay with trapping’ me in another time?”

“You know why it can’t be me or anyone else of Batman Inc.”

“Whoever goes back is gonna change that timeline, not this one. No one else is expendable. God, ya really are a right bastard aren’t ya?“

“Close the portal..?”

*sigh* “Close the portal by destroying the computer, not the machine or power source. Are we sure it’s even going to open?”

“It’s opened like clockwork, Jason. Every year, on this day at this time.”

“Yeah, yeah. Still don’t see why bother? Ya got a better Robin right here if ya open ya eyes.”

The backhand to the jaw wasn’t the first time, but thankfully it would be the last. “Got it, can’t beat Saint Dick.”

*growl* “Close. The. Portal.”

*sigh* “Close the portal, get out of warehouse before that Batman and Superman show up, destroy all tech and gadgets, take the money ya sending with me and disappear. I get it. I save the day and the Batman there won’t even know I exist.”

The shaking began and Jason gripped the metal case in his gloved hand. The first time he was wearing the uniform and the bastard was getting rid of him. Figured. At least he was getting a couple mil out of it.

“You’ll have less than eight seconds to get through, Jason. Be ready.”

“Can I just say one thing,” Jason didn’t look away from where he knew the portal would open in front of him. “In the past five years I’ve come to one conclusion: After everything ya told me about Dickie-bird and everything ya did to me… Ya  are a fuckin’ bastard and don’t deserve someone like Dick Grayson.”

The portal opened and Jason stepped through.

“You’re right,” Batman agreed when the portal was gone seconds later. “I don’t.”

Chapter Text

So, this probably wasn’t what Batman had intended when he sent Jason through the portal.  However, the green-eyed Robin had five years of pent up frustration and anger to let out, and Sportsmaster was such an inviting target. Despite the obvious difference of size and age between the two, the first blow to Sportsmaster’s face cracked the goalie mask he wore.

The second broke the nose beneath it.

Vaulting over the dazed man lying on the floor again, Jason planted his hands on the computer console and lifted himself over it. As he did so, he twisted his legs around to drive them both into the ribcage of the freaky horned guy that was trying to dislodge the knife in the hard drive.  He kicked hard, sending the freak flying back and through several of its little green monkeys and into the wall behind them. It didn’t get back up.

He was suddenly flying through the air for a very different reason.

Guardian had come up behind him and grabbed the cape at the base of his neck and flung Jason back over the computer and to the concrete floor. The teen slid for a few feet before bumping into a still recovering Sportsmaster. Lifting himself up, and slamming his elbow into the mercenary’s throat for good measure while he was getting up, he watched the golden-helmed guy stalking toward him.

“Do you know what you have done?”

Jason rolled into a series of backward flips to avoid the fists the man swung at him as he was pursued. “Besides pissin’ ya off, I’m betting on fyin’ the computer ya was usin’ to control this gizmo.”

“We were trying to save the world!”

“Ya were destroyin’ it!”

An anger fueled swing caught Jason in the side which stopped him enough for a leg to hook around his ankles and take him awkwardly to the ground.

With one leg bent beneath him and the other twisted outward, the other Robin couldn’t get purchase with his feet to push away from the seething clone as Guardian grabbed him by the throat and started choking him.

“You shouldn’t have come through,” Guardian snarled, spittle forming at the corner of his mouth before dropping onto Jason’s reddening cheeks. “We were going to save your parents, to give you the life with them you should have had! You didn’t have to become this! Now two of you have to die!”

He couldn’t breathe, but he had been choked out before; been trained for it.  Never let it be said that training with the Batman was a pleasant experience.

Jason twisted his torso and hips until the leg pinned beneath him was free. He didn’t waste any time driving his knee upward into the crazed Guardian’s family jewels.

Eyes widened comically and the grip on Jason’s throat slackened enough for him to grab the fingers and pry them away. He pressed his heals into his assailant’s gut and kicked back, sending him sliding a few feet away while Guardian was thrown back. With more space between them, the other Robin was able to get to his feet and draw his first weapon.

Three bat-shaped hooks leapt out of the gun to snag on Guardian’s costume. With a single flick of his thumb, 50,000 volts surged down the conductive wires and into the man’s body. A few seconds later, Guardian was on the ground and not getting back up.

Dropping the expended stun-gun at his feet and walked over to the nearly recovered Sportsmaster. Beneath the cracked mask, Jason could see the man’s hesitation.  Not sparing a second through, the other Robin slammed the tip of his boot into Sportsmaster’s temple. The eyes rolled into the back of the head and the body went completely limp.

Looking around at the chaos, some of which he had created, Jason smiled. “Damn, that was fun.”

“Hmmph!”

He turned at the sound and let blue eyes meet green. “Don’t worry Dickie-bird, I didn’t forget about ya. Just let me get ‘em secure and I’ll be right with ya.”

It took several minutes to drag Sportsmaster and Guardian’s dead weight over to the metal framework in the center of the room. He left them lying on the ground but put their wrists through the contraption before snapping a pair of bat-cuffs on each of them.

Jason then turned his attention completely to the trapped hero before him. “I don’t think I can get ya out of there without hurtin’ ya. But the cavalry’s gotta be almost here-”

Dick shook his head with as much forcefulness as he could. “Hmmph!”

“All right, just don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” Jason knelt down next to the spider-like claws and started to pull them out of this world’s Robin. He had to admit, he was impressed by the kid. He barely made a sound when the needle-like tips were ripping their way back out of his flesh. The eyes were squeezed shut and the nostrils were flaring, but he didn’t whimper or cry. Not until the larger razor tipped fingers were pulled out of his thighs.

Jason’s skin crawled and his heart ached for his counterpart at the scream that was muffled behind the belt-gag as the first finger was ripped out of where it was buried in the thighbone. While the smaller holes left behind as oozed a little blood, this one all but gushed. Grabbing a hospital grade compress from his utility belt he secured it over the wound, praying the kid wouldn’t bleed out.

“I ain’t doin’ the other one,” he told Dick with a slight tremor in his voice. “You can wait for Batman-”

The shake of the head was weaker, but the muscles of the younger protégé’s jaw twitched as they tightened and the glare leveled at the Jason was worthy of Batman himself.

“Right then,” Jason didn’t like the idea, but he gripped the last metal finger between both fists. “On three. One-” he didn’t get to count further as the captive youth took the option from him. With enough mobility returned to his legs, Dick yanks his remaining impaled one hard to the side, tearing the drill-like needle out the bone and muscles.

Shocked at the kid’s actions, Jason lost several seconds before he was securing a second compress to the free flowing wound. He hated to admit it, but he could see what was so damn special about Dick Grayson.

The battered boy hung limply, the manacles padlocked to the framework overhead the only thing keeping him upright, panting heavily through his nose. Anyone else should have lost consciousness from the pain and shock, but not Dickie-bird. Not Robin. “Damn,” Jason shook his head as an impressed grin turned the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get ya down, yeah?”

Holding Robin around his waist, Jason took a laser cutter from his belt and sliced through the padlocked like butter. Dick dropped, all his weight falling onto the older teen that caught him easily. Moving away from the center of the machine, Jason eased Dick to the floor before loosening and removing the belt-gag. 

Dick struggled to stay conscious, wanting nothing more to give in to the blackness creeping in around him. He watched the Other retrieve two small vials from his utility belt and uncorked one before holding it to Dick’s lips. Recognizing it as one of Batman’s concoctions he allowed the antibiotic mixture to trickle down his throat. He coughed, choking on the first fluid he’d had in days.

“Easy,” the Other’s voice was soothing in its roughness as gloved fingers gently massaged his throat to aid the swallowing. When the coughing passed the second vial was held up. “Nothing but sugar water to ya body absorb the meds; think ya can manage it?”

Dick nodded and despite another coughing fit, with the Other’s gentle ministrations he was able to swallow most of it. His tongue moist enough, it darted out to wet his cracked and bloodied lips.  When the Other made to move away from him, he reached out and grabbed his arm as much as he could. “Who are you?”

Jason smirked. “Would ya believe I’m ya?”

“One: your tumbles were too rigid; you need to loosen up your core more. And two: my eyes aren’t green. Three… I saw you. Before I saw you come through the portal. ”

“Ya criticizing my skills, Dickie-Bird?” the Other laughed lightly. “Let’s just say I’m what will happen if ever you stop being Robin.”

“There’s only one thing that would stop be,” Dick tried to sit up and only succeeded with Jason’s help. “I was dead.”

“Mostly, yeah.”

Dick groaned as his injuries started to make themselves known. “So he sent you back to stop it.”

“Got it in one.”

“It’s not enough,” Dick gasped and shook his head when Jason tried to lay him back down. “No… I can’t… not yet.”

“Come on, man, ya gonna keel over on me and I would have wasted a perfectly good trip through time!”

“Not… here…” Robin wearily lifted his arm to his face and peeled the domino mask from his face.  He looked at Jason without the mask and it floored the other Robin when he saw the complete trust in the younger boy’s eyes. “I need you to help me.”

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Batman felt his skin start to crawl the moment Superman set them on the roof of the warehouse. The windows had been blown out during the quake, the building supports groaning with the resulted shifting of walls and foundation. It was standing, but only just.

The Dark Knight was moving to the roof access, the door easily ripped off its rusted hinges. The stairs had collapsed, but neither hero was deterred. Batman leapt down, his cape billowing behind him and slowing his decent until he touched down on the top of the crumbled staircases. The door to the main floor was blocked by debris, but Superman lit easily next to him and without a word made a new entrance through the wall.

The interior was a disaster.

Computer consoles were ablaze, smoke filling the room in a haze, support columns tilted precariously, the elevated ceiling has collapsed in several place. Then there were the bodies. Dozens of the little g-gnomes were broken and bloody, and the unconscious form of a horned humanoid lay a few feet from the smoking tower of a large computer terminal.

“Batman?” Superman’s surprised tone drew the detective’s attention.

The device was still in one piece. It's metal structure apparently the only thing keeping the entire floor above from completely caving in. Mechanical arms reached down from the ceiling, finger-like claws curling up from the floor, blood staining their razor sharp tips, two unconscious bodies lying cuffed to the framework – with very familiar looking cuffs.

But of Robin there was no sign.

“Did he escape?” Clark scanned the area with his x-ray vision quickly. “He’s not here.”

“Someone else was,” Bruce snarled, as he approached a blood stained spot on the floor. He knelt down, picking up two empty vials. He pointed to the stun-gun lying not too far away. “Someone with access to my gear.”

“And your money?” Superman held up a large metallic case and clicked it open, showing Batman the contents. “That’s a lot of cash.”

“At least two million,” Batman stood up and walked to the case, lifting a few of the stacks of bills. “There are stock bonds here too; all Wayne-tech and worth several more million.”

“Where’s Rob?”

The World’s Finest looked to the entrance Superman had created and to the youths that stepped through. Artemis was in the lead, her eyes quickly taking in the room before they fell to Sportsmaster. Her face hardened and she stalked toward the subdued mercenary.

Roy caught her arm. “Later.”

Martian Manhunter phased through the wall next to his niece. “The League has been notified and many are on their way to Gotham.”

Batman growled but did not respond. “Robin’s gone.”

“Gone?” M’gann squeaked, eyes filling with tears.

“Not here,” Superman clarified before they had a wailing Martian on their hands. “He was gone by the time we got here.”

“He escaped?” Superboy asked, eyes looking anywhere but at Superman.

“With help,” a new voice sounded around them.

Looking around it was Wally that spotted the yellow cape. “Rob!” He flashed over to his friend only to stop a few feet from him. “You’re not Robin!”

“Oh, but I am.” Jason smirked as their bewildered expressions but quickly lost the mirth when he saw Batman stalking toward him.

“Where is he?” the Dark Knight roared, reminiscent of his own Batman, sending a chill down his spine.

The Other Robin jumped back and out of the enraged father’s reach. “He’s safe! I shouldn’t be here, but he wanted me to tell ya-”

Despite being able to stay one step away from Batman, Jason wasn’t quick enough to avoid Superman. The Man of Steel carefully but securely grabbed his arms and held them behind his back.  Batman was standing in front of them an instant later.  “Where. Is. He.”

“I promise ya,” Jason licked his lips, recognizing the chance he was taking with his next words. “Dick Grayson is safe.”

The stunned faces were enough to tell him he had only a few seconds before they tore into him without prejudice.

“Okay, here’s the deal. I’m from about six years in the future. One where Dickie-bird-” he gulped under Batman’s intensified glare, “- where Robin didn’t survive the Quake. He wasn’t the only one. Millions died when the backlash from the time portal collapsin’ sent Long Island into the Atlantic. I came back to change it, to stop Dick and as many as I could from dyin’!”

“You expect us to believe that?” Red Arrow snapped.

Ignoring everyone else, Jason let his eyes lock with those of Batman. “Tell me I’m lyin’.”

The silence was heavy. One minute passed, then two. Then, “Let him go.”

Jason sighed his relief when Superman’s unbreakable hold let go of his wrists.

“So where is he?” Miss Martian asked tentatively. “If you’re suppose to save him, why isn’t he here?”

“I told you, he’s safe.” Jason reached beneath his belt and held out a domino mask to Batman. “In about one minute, a nine year old run-away is going to seek shelter in a partially collapsed building in Crime Alley. Inside, he is going to find the kidnapped Richard Grayson.  Robin needs to be rescued from here, unless ya want the big guns who hired Sportsmaster and Guardian figurin’ out exactly who Robin and the rest of ya are. Robin needs to be seen, beat up and bleeding, coming out of this warehouse the same time Dick is being rescued by some beat cop who’s going to be a house hold name by tomorrow morning. And, hey, what do ya know: there’s a Robin willin’ and able to pull it off with none but us the wiser.”

Batman took the mask from him and gripped it in his fist. “This was his idea.”

The other Robin smirked. “Ya know it. He also said ya need to go home for when Gordon calls.

“I’m needed in Gotham,” Bruce objected, though they all could hear his need to go after his son. “The people need to see the Batman.”

Jason threw his hands up in the air. “That kid is riskin’ his life to protect his secrets – your secrets! Someone else can play Batman while ya play the part ya meant to!”

“Uncle J’onn!” M’gann exclaimed bubbly.

Shifting slowly, Martian Manhunter was readily replaced by a near exact duplicate of the Batman. “I will not be able to maintain this form for long.”

“Long enough to ensure he’s seen,” Superman latched on to the idea and turned to face the true Batman. “I can get you back to the mansion, and be back to help in seconds. The rest of the League will be arriving and we’ll have more than enough bodies to help with the search and rescue.”

“But what about Robin?” Artemis shook her head, distrust still burning in her eyes. “We’re just going to leave him to be found by chance?”

“It won’t be chance,” Jason snapped. “The kid’s probably found ‘im by now. There’s a rookie cop, name John Blake, that looks out for the kid. He’s on his way through the alley to check on him. They’ll have Dick’s discovery on the wire in the next five minutes.”

“How can you be so sure?” Superboy growled.

“Because in my time, John came looking for me the night of the Quake.”

Chapter Text

Superman stood over the still unconscious villains and watched the Other with barely concealed curiosity. The boy that looked so much like their Robin, thanks to the Manhunter’s flawless illusion, walked over to the computers and slipped a drive into one of the USB ports. He tapped a few keys on the keyboard and nodded a moment later.

“What are you doing?” Batman asked from where he stood, having remained behind to deal with Gordon when the police commissioner arrived. The other protégés had been ordered out of the Alley to help where they could. The League members were also ordered away for the time being. J’onn has remained behind, invisible and hidden, waiting for when he and Bruce would make the switch

“Evidence.” Jason answered as he retrieved the drive and hid it beneath his belt again.

“You’re planting evidence?” Superman arched an eyebrow in disapproval.

Unfazed, the older Robin met Superman’s accusing stare. “It’s all real. It’s what my Batman gathered over a period of four years. That’s how long it took to catch those responsible for all this, and even then a lot of them went to ground before they were caught. What I just uploaded will speed up the process and should see them all hangin’ before the end of the year.”

There was no disguising the predatory gleam in Batman’s eyes. Superman couldn’t say he felt any different. “But using too much information from the future could alter the time stream too much.”

Jason snorted.

So did Batman, surprising them both. “He’s already altered it, Superman. Robin’s alive and the portal’s closed. Good or bad, he’s here until we can find his time – his reality again.”

“I was never goin’ back.” Jason shrugged at their stunned looks and motioned to the case of money. “It’s why that came with me, a partin’ gift from my Batman ya could say.”

“I – your Batman – let you do this?” Bruce gaped.

The other robin shook his head as the sound of helicopters approached. “Ya talk like I was given a choice.” He leveled a harsh glare at the dark knight. “My Batman – YOU - trained me for this and only this. Nothing mattered but stopping Sportsmaster from killing your precious Dickie-bird.”

There was no answering the animosity in the voice, nor was there the time. The helicopters had landed outside the warehouse and Superman went out to meet the GCPD Commissioner. The not-so-dynamic duo stared at each other a moment longer before moving to their agreed on positions. Batman with the captive bad guys, Robin sitting nearby appearing the relieved rescued hostage.

That was the site that welcomed Jim Gordon as he walked in beside the Man of Steel, a handful of Gotham’s finest moving about to secure the area. When Jim had received Batman’s call he had been floored to learn the quake that had decimated Gotham and the surrounding area had been man-made. Even so, the construct that occupied most of the room was not what he expected; more like something out of a bad science fiction movie.

Gordon nodded toward the – thing built in the center of the room. “This caused the quake?”

“Yes,” Batman confirmed. “Sportsmaster and Guardian attempted to open an unstable wormhole.”

Jim glanced over his shoulder at Robin, whose appearance and condition brought out the father in him. “And Robin?”

Batman growled but didn’t immediately respond.

Superman walked over to Robin’s side and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Robin was taken hostage several days ago.” The hero of Metropolis answered. “His abduction kept the League at bay while Guardian and Sportsmaster went about collecting the needed components to open the portal.”

“You okay kid?” the commissioner asked with sincerity.

Jason hid his surprise at the older man’s concern but nodded. “Yeah, nothing a few days rest won’t cure. Have you found him?”

“Found who?” Jim asked the trio.

“The Grayson boy,” Batman said lowly, a hint of… something Jim couldn’t identify lacing his voice. “Robin says they were held captive together for a time.”

“Sportsmaster was killing two birds with one stone, so to speak,” Robin’s trademark smirk wavered and fell. “He grabbed Dick the day after they caught me. Guardian wasn’t happy, but Sportsmaster said the kid served two purposes. The ransom money – which was all Sportsmaster cared about – and a way to keep me in line. He convinced Guardian that I wouldn’t misbehave if they had someone as important as Bruce Wayne’s son as leverage.”

“Do you know where you were held?” Gordon asked, his eagerness to find his friend’s son apparent in the question.

Robin shook his head. “Whenever I was taken in or out I was blindfolded. I never knew where we were, except that it’s somewhere in Gotham.”

Jim turned to the blue and red clad hero. “Superman, could you-”

Superman shook his head. “When they assaulted a lab in Metropolis they had Robin with them. I found him then, but they were ready for me. They had welded Kryptonite made cuffs-” Robin held his wrists, showing off the illusionary burns and marks left behind “- and placed a trap for me. It nearly killed me and would have if other League members hadn’t gotten to me in time. By then they, and Robin, were gone. I’m still not at full power.”

“You’re saying they’ve most likely got something similar imprisoning Richard?” Jim was more than a little stunned when Superman nodded.

“They were expecting Superman and the League to come looking for me,” Robin told the man. “It was a chance that Superman would find us together and they took that extra precaution. They welded them to the both of us.”

Jim swore.

“We can interrogate Sportsmaster and Guardian when they regain consciousness,” Batman told them. “They’ll tell us where the boy is.”

The commissioner eyed the still unmoving pair. “What happened to them?”

“They resisted arrest.” Batman answered evenly.

Gordon opened his mouth to reply when his radio squawked and the dispatch office called for his attention. “Gordon here.”

“Sir, you wanted to know immediately if we got any information. Officer’s Burlow and Blake out of the 28^th precinct report a two-zero-seven and two-seventeen; requesting an immediate Air-Evac. They say it’s Bruce Wayne’s son.”

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Despite being the one to insist on this course of action, Dick was quickly coming to regret not staying at the warehouse until Batman and the others arrived. It was so close to being all over! But in those moments after the other Robin had freed him from the machine he realized there was no hiding his injuries.

Days of starvation and dehydration would see him in the hospital, where the melded shackles – that would require surgery to remove – would be leaked to the media. From there, it would only be a matter of time before the creepy-light-guys figured out who was behind the mask of Robin. After all, how many teenagers were cuffed with specifically designed Kryptonite made manacles? It was the smoking gun that would lead them right to the doorstep of Wayne Manor, and to Bruce.

Not if Dick could help it.

The other Robin had practically carried him the quarter mile from the warehouse; all the while they talked and planned. Dick liked the older teen; his street-wise way of looking at the situation helped them figure out how they were going to work this. The Other – Jason, Dick was told – has been able to find a building for their needs: a retail shop that had been closed and abandoned for years.

The three story building had been literally sheered in half when a sinkhole had opened up nearby. The hole had to be at least a hundred yards in diameter and thirty feet deep – at least thirty feet to the top of the debris inside the hole. The buildings hadn’t stood a chance and the resulting pit was filled with tons of concrete, asphalt, brick and glass. Neither Jason nor Dick wanted to think of the bodies buried inside that mess.

It took some maneuvering, and Jason using his grapple line to get them down, but less than fifteen minutes after leaving the warehouse Dick has been set on the remaining floor of the shop’s basement.

“Problem, Dick,” Jason said quietly after a brief glance around. “You’re in uniform, and I’ve got nothing’ else for ya’ to wear.”

“How long until your other self shows up?”

“I’d say another twenty minutes, give or take. I didn’t get the guts to crawl out of my hidey hole for probably a half hour after the quake. It’s not far and this is the quickest route to the place I was livin’.” Jason looked out across the sinkhole, finding a spot on a jutting piece of asphalt about quarter-way around the circumference of the expanse. “I came out of that alley there. I remember seeing this and just standing there in shock until Office Blake found me.”

“You better take the uniform with you.” Dick started to pull at his tunic. “I can tell them my kidnappers stripped me down after I tried to escape once.”

Jason shook his head and knelt beside the younger hero. “Gonna catch pneumonia,” he grumbled but helped Dick remove the remnants of his uniform. “Are ya sure about this, Dickie-bird?”

“Don’t really have a choice,” he groaned as the chilled air contacted his now exposed chest. Bruises and lesions colored his torso, some that could be explained away with the quake, but most were undoubtedly caused by an angry hand. He refused to think about what his throat looked like, especially when the tips of Jason’s fingers brushed against his Adam’s apple.  He pushed the gloved hand away. “It looks worse than it is.”

“Doubt that,” Jason’s snort was filled with disbelief. “The uniform hid them before, but those are some nasty bruises. I should just take ya over to a hospital, let Robin be the one to bring in the billionaire’s son. That should protect ya and Bruce’s identities well enough.”

With a shake of his head, Dick slipped the compress bandages from his thighs so he could remove his Kevlar tights. “For the rest of the world, yeah, but the guys behind all of this know that Robin was in that warehouse; can’t be the hero when you’re the linchpin holding the portal open. No, there’re too many holes in any story we could come up with that they could use to find out who I am, leading them straight to Bruce.”

“I think ya give them too much credit, Dick.”

Leveling a hard glare at the other Robin, Dick’s mouth curled into a very familiar snarl; yes, this Robin was definitely the Batman’s son. “These bastards nearly tore this world apart for the miniscule possibility they’d be able to manipulate the world’s heroes into what they thought they should be. They may be insane, but they’re brilliant. They’d figure it out.”

“Okay, okay, we do it your way.”

Once the teen was in nothing but his underwear, Jason helped him shift so his back was pressed up against one of the few remaining support beams. It was tilting toward the sink hole, but it was probably the securest of the lot. The other hesitated a moment, but didn’t say a word when Dick stiffly positioned his arms behind him and around the post. Having retained one of the padlocks from the warehouse, Jason snapped the industrial grade lock into place.

It was then he noticed the blood still seeping through the wounds on Dick’s legs. “Screw it! I can’t do this, Dick! I leave ya here, and ya could bleed to death!”

Dick jerked away as much as he could when Jason moved to pick the lock open. “I’m fine. There’s a clinic not far from here. Any one from the Alley knows if you’re hurt-”

“Ya go to Doc Leslie.” Jason sighed. He didn’t like it, but he’d go along with it for now. “I grew up here, I remember.”

“Then you know I’ll be fine.”

A length of chain was wrapped and locked around his legs, and a course fabric gag was secured between his lips. The cloth aggravated his cracked and blood caked lips, but with a final nod to his counterpart, Dick had been left alone.

That had been more than forty minutes ago. Jason’s timing was off, but not entirely unexpected given the changes to the time-line already. The memories of what Dick had seen when trapped at the epicenter of the portal were fading, but he remembered enough. He pushed those images aside and concentrated on staying conscious. He may have convinced Jason that he’d be fine, but he could still sense his body shutting down. He didn’t doubt that if he lost his fight to stay awake, the darkness wouldn’t let him go.

He kept glancing up at the spot Jason had pointed out, willing for the boy to show up. When it neared then passed an hour, Dick began to worry.  When another ten minutes has passed, he closed his eyes and let his chin fall to his chest. That was when he heard it.

“Holy shit!” The exclamation made from a small voice sent a wave of relief through Dick and he lifted his heavy eyes to the boy standing on the edge of the sinkhole. Green eyes were wide with horror and the boy clutched his right arm protectively against his chest. Even at this distance, Dick recognized a compound fracture; the bloody bone protruding from the arm unmistakable.

Dick continued to stare at the youth, urging him silently to look over his way and see him. It took a few more minutes before those terrified green orbs finally fell onto him. The expletive Young Jason used this time was not something a nine-year old boy should know.

The boy looked around his immediate area before glancing down over the ledge of asphalt. Realizing what he was thinking, Dick’s heart all but stopped. He shook his head fiercely and tried shouting around the gag. It was enough that kid looked at him and took a step back from the ledge. Dick relaxed and let his head rest back against the support. 

“Hold on, I’ll be back with help!”

Nodding to let him know he’d heard him, Dick watched as the tawny-haired kid ran back into the alley. A few minutes later he could hear someone arguing with the Young Jason about getting the broken arm treated.

Jason was the first to the edge and jabbed his good arm to where Dick was.  He turned and glared at the two uniformed officers that had followed him. “There!”

Dick then heard where the boy had learned his choice in profanity.

Suddenly there was a flurry of activity around the sinkhole.  More cops showed up and even locals were helping out; Dick’s heart ached when he saw Leslie Thompkins show up. His family was so close…

When she recognized him and told his would-be saviors, the determination to get to him seemed to intensify. He was, after all, Gotham royalty: The Prince of Gotham’s Son!

It was soon discovered that the only way to his position was across the sinkhole and, with a rope tied around their waists, the two cops first on the scene were climbing down one side of the pit and across the debris.

Time seemed to blur together, with a lot of shouting and pain and – god, he was just so tired. Several times he felt himself give in to the weariness and his body go slack until the shouts from the crowd drew him back. The noise helped keep him focused somewhat and he was able to keep conscious.

Bloodied fingers appeared on the edge of the sinkhole not far from him, and a moment later the dirtied uniform of Office Blake followed. The young man lifted himself into the basement and wasted no time hurrying over to Dick’s shivering body.

Blake cursed several colorful phrases as he took in the boy’s appearance. The bruises, the injuries, the burns, and the padlock keeping him confined. “Damn. Eddie!” He turned to his partner who was securing one of the ropes to another support, allowing them a means to get what equipment they needed across without having to climb. “We’re going to need bolt cutters.”

“Roger that!” was the response and the older man started shouting orders to the officers on the other edge.

Dick became aware of cool but gentle fingers working at the knots of fabric, and a moment later the gag was carefully pried from between Dick’s lips. “Thanks.”

The officer cringed at the hoarseness of Dick’s voice and quickly looked him over. Realizing he wouldn’t be able to free him just yet, he shrugged off his jacket and used it to cover the mostly naked teen before pressing his palms against the still bleeding wounds on his legs. “It’s Richard, right?”

“Dick,” he mumbled as he felt his body quickly giving in to the exhaustion he was fighting.

“Dick,” the cop’s voice was fading, “just a little longer, okay? We’ll have you out of here as soon as we can.”

He wanted to answer, he really did, but he was finished. He’d been ‘rescued’. The days of hell were finally over.

Dick Grayson let the darkness take him.

Chapter Text

For a Monday morning, the hospitals were swarming with the wounded. Less than ten hours after the quake, as the sun was just beginning to rise, initial reports were already being broadcasted nationwide. Dozens dead, hundreds injured and many more unaccounted for.

Every off duty officer, nurse, doctor, and medic had been called in. The army was already making its presence known, and the members of the Justice League were seen helping throughout the earthquake ravaged Gotham City.

Yet one emerald clad hero stood on the roof top overlooking the organized chaos that was Gotham City General Hospital.

“Any sign of him?”

Artemis dropped the binoculars from her face and turned as the older boy approached her. She blinked and looked back at the building below, shaking her head when Roy stopped beside her. “Wally’s checking out the hospital across town.”

“You’re supposed to be helping with search and rescue.”

“So are you.”

“So I am.”

Silence fell around the two archers.

“He should come here,” she sighed a moment later, pushing her mask back and off her face. “This is the closest hospital to the Alley. He should be brought here.”

Roy watched the blonde critically for a moment before coming to a realization. “You’re really worried about him.”

Artemis scowled at him but otherwise kept her focus on the hospital below. “Of course I am. He’s my teammate.”

“It’s more than that,” Roy shifted the bow slung across his back, allowing him to sit on the roof’s edge. “Why? You’ve only known him a few months.”

“Like that should matter?” She sighed. “He may not have been over the moon when I joined the team, but he didn’t go out of his way to make me feel unwelcomed either. After a few missions together, I don’t know, it just seemed like I’d always been working with them. Then, when school started and I met Dick Grayson he made a point of being not just polite to the charity case, but he was sincerely nice to me.”

With a small laugh she finally looked away from the scene below them and sat beside her fellow archer. “I never really thought about it, but the first day I was there this kid comes up to me, puts his arms around me, and takes a picture of the two of us; says I’ll laugh about it one day.”

Roy smiled. “Dick?”

“Dick,” Artemis nodded with a warm smile before it faltered and her worried scowl returned. “When Sportsmaster took him from the school, he tried to stop me from interfering. He knew who I was, what I can do, and still he didn’t want me helping him.”

“He didn’t want you hurt,” Roy corrected. “That’s just the way he is – Batman too. No one hurts their friends, not if they can help it.”

“I should have done more. Instead, I let Sportsmaster intimidate and scare me.” Artemis dropped her head and sighed. “I felt like I was six years old again.”

Without conscious thought the boy put a comforting hand on her shoulder, surprising both of them. When she looked at his hand with unveiled confusion he gave it a little squeeze. “You’re not him, Artemis. You’re not your Father. It’s about time I – and everyone else – saw that.”

“Yeah, well,” she shrugged but didn’t dislodge his hand, “doesn’t change the fact that my father did this.”

“Yes, he did, but you didn’t.”

She snorted and turned to Roy. “So, what, you’re a fan now?”

He echoed her snort and took his hand from her shoulder. “I wouldn’t go that far, but you’re not bad, Artemis.”

“Wow, such glowing praise!”

“Whatever,” Roy kept a faint smile on his lips at her sarcasm. “I’m just saying, if they can’t have me on the team they could do much worse than you.”

“And the compliments just keep coming!” Artemis elbowed him lightly in the side. “Careful, Harper, or you’re going to ruin your image.”

He started to open his mouth, a snide remark ready on his tongue, when the sound of an approaching helicopter caught their attention. They were both on their feet when the medi-copter touched down on the Hospital’s helipad. In silence they watched as a handful of hospital personnel ran to the aircraft and unloaded a single gurney.

Raising the binoculars to her eyes again, Artemis took a few seconds to adjust the focus on the figure being rushed to the roof access.

“Well?” Roy asked only a second after the group disappeared inside.

“It’s him,” Artemis swallowed the lump that had formed when she had glimpsed her teammate. What she had seen churned her stomach. “Roy, he-”

When the lump choked off her words she turned away so he wouldn’t see the tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. The older teen had no hesitation in his actions as he reached for her and pulled her into his embrace. He didn’t say anything, just held her as she sobbed quietly.

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Bruce Wayne ran.

He ran. When the call finally came, shortly after dawn, he sprinted away from the phone and through the members of the press taking refuge inside the sprawling entrance of the manor. Out the front door and down the stone steps, he ran, ignoring the suddenly flashing cameras and shouts of the media.

He ran. Around to the garage where he leapt onto Dick’s civilian motorcycle, gunned the engine and squealed the tires as he steered it out of the building and across the pristinely manicured lawn. It skidded on the gravel of a foot trail through a small garden, but he didn’t stop until he came to the private helipad a quarter mile from the main house.

He ran. From where he let the bike drop carelessly to the ground, to where the personal helicopter that sat silent on the pad. He was oblivious to the people watching from various windows and doorways, uncaring that he would have to later explain how the billionaire playboy knew how to fly. All that mattered was getting the aircraft up in the air.

By the time he was preparing to pull the yolk back and lift the copter into the air, Alfred was gracefully climbing to the passenger seat and slipping the headset over his ears. The pair shared a quick glance before Alfred spoke. “The Drakes will be here momentarily. Jack will ensure our guests will not go snooping.”

Bruce jerked a nod before taking the helicopter up and away from Wayne Manor.

Below them they could see the destruction of the quake, the damage worsening the closer they came to its epicenter in the Alley. Neither man spoke, each lost in their own thoughts of the events of the past few days. The flight only took a few minutes and Bruce expertly lowered the craft onto the roof’s second helipad. 

An orderly was waiting for them as Alfred took over powering the helicopter down, allowing the desperate father the climb down and hurry to the roof access.

“Mr Wayne,” the larger man in hospital scrubs opened the door for the billionaire, “we’ve set up a private waiting area for you in the Chief of Staff’s office.”

“I want to see my son.” The man snarled as he leapt down the stairs three at a time.

The orderly was hard pressed to keep up with him. “Dr Leslie Thompkins is assessing him at the moment and asks that you wait for her there.”

With a feral grown, Bruce spun and grabbed a handful of the man’s scrub top and slammed him hard against the wall. “Face or leg; which do I break first?”

“And then I shall break the other,” Alfred added primly, yet terrifyingly serious, as he joined the pair.

The man swallowed. “I’ll take you to your son."

The third floor of the building was quieter than the rest, but the passage of a frightened orderly and the grim visages of Gotham’s most well known citizen and his butler did not go unnoticed. Motioning to a closed door, the orderly quickly departed.

Bruce burst through the door with his dear friend behind him. The viewing area of the surgical theatre was empty and dark, and as they approached the glass that looked down over the room they could see the flurry of activity.

“Where are those boluses?” Leslie was demanding as she was running the ultrasound wand over a severely bruised section of Dick’s side. The boy was unmoving, and around the dozen people flitting around him Bruce couldn’t get a good look at him. But what he saw was enough to send his rage skyrocketing before plummeting into overwhelming worry for his son.

“Here, Dr Thompkins,” yet another nurse burst into the room carrying several sacks of clear fluid.

“Start with the 0.9% NaCl with 5% dextrose, 60ml per hour,” Leslie glanced down at her patient and the team of medical personnel working on him.

“Dehydration,” Bruce muttered to himself.

“Swelling and purplish discoloration around the visible burns,” one of the other doctors voiced. “Temperature holding at 105.3-”

“Infection,” Bruce hung his head, his fists gripping the ledge of glass until his knuckles turned white.

“No visible bleeds to the spleen or kidney, but I don’t like that bruising. He’ll need an MRI as soon as those… things are off his wrists!” Leslie tossed the wand onto the cart next to the ultrasound machine. “I don’t like the look of that EEG,” She said to a nurse monitoring the graph machine recording the boy’s brain activity. “Have them prep a surgical room in case we need to relieve pressure to the brain.”

At Bruce’s distraught moan, Dr Thompkins lifted her head and, seeing him in the viewing area, excused herself from the gurney, her place immediately filled by another doctor.

“Bruce,” She gripped the man in an affectionate hug when she joined them above the theatre. “I figured you wouldn’t listen. We brought Dick here, away from the insanity that is the Emergency Room and no media.”

Bruce closed his eyes and let his head rest on the smaller woman’s shoulder. “How is he?”

Leslie stiffened and extracted herself from his arms. “It could be much worse,” she told him carefully, “but it’s still bad.”

He nodded, his eyes never leaving the form of his son. “Tell me.”

“I don’t know where to begin,” the doctor said gravely. “There are obvious signs of beatings, varying degrees of bruising on his face and torso; some of the worst were to his throat. There is trauma to his vocal cords-”

“He was screaming,” the father whispered, the sound of his son’s cries as he was being electrocuted seared in his memory. He also recalled how Superman had told him about finding Robin in Metropolis.

Leslie inhaled sharply through her nose and continued. “There is also evidence of strangulation, bruising and damage to the interior of his trachea; no fractures thankfully. “

Bruce clenched his teeth but forced himself to remain, despite the urge to repay Sportsmaster and Guardian in kind immediately. “What else?”

“Severe dehydration and prolonged starvations, his internal organs were in the first stages of shutting down; numerous lacerations to his upper and lower legs, losing several pints of blood; deep tissue ruptures to the sides of his mouth which will require stitches and there are several broken molars and lesions to the interior of his mouth that will need surgical repair; a laceration and contusion to the back of his skull which resulted in a severe concussion; and a score of other superficial injuries that will heal with time.”

For the first time in years, Bruce was unable to keep his horrified expression from his face. Swallowing the bile that seared that back of his throat, he latched on to his anger to keep from crumbling and turned to his long time physician. “And the burns?”

Dr Thompkins turned away from the glare she knew was not directed at her, but hard to bare none-the-less. “There are second and third degree burns on the visible skin of his lower arms. His wrists… Bruce, these monsters welded lead – and something else we haven’t been able to identify yet – manacles to his wrists.”

“Kryptonite,” he informed her.

She shook her head in disbelief. “I’ll try to keep that out of his file.”

Bruce acknowledged that with a curt nod of his head.

“We’ve begun treating for lead poisoning as a precaution, and once his vitals stabilize a little more, possibly bringing his temperature down a few degrees, we’ll take him in for surgery to remove them. The infection makes surgery of any kind risky, but we need to assess the damage beneath the shackles to know for certain where it originated from so we’ve got him on a broad spectrum of antibiotics to help fight it.

“And if that weren’t enough, we suspect bleeding in the abdominal cavity as well as in the brain, but the cuffs are preventing us from using the diagnostic equipment to accurately find the bleeds if they are there. That being said, his vitals are strong enough that we have a little time before that becomes a critical concern, so long as we can lower his temperature and get him into surgery as soon as possible.”

With nothing left to be said, Leslie returned to her patient, leaving Bruce and Alfred to the silence.

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The steady tone of the cardiac monitor kept Bruce’s thoughts from straying any further than the battered figure lying in the bed next to him. The private room was on the upper floors of the hospital, a quiet place the hospital arranged for the father and his son in the palliative care wing. It had been several long hours, and only a few minutes ago Alfred had left at Gordon’s request.

Word got our rather quickly about Dick Grayson’s recovery and the media had flocked to the Hospital. Hundreds of reporters, news trucks and cameras had inundated the already clogged streets around the medical facility and were making it near impossible for the injured to get inside. Jim, after checking on Dick’s prognosis, had asked that a statement be made to the vultures so they could be thinned down.

Bruce knew the statement would be going out live, but he didn’t care. All that mattered to him was watching his son for any signs of consciousness. So he sat in one of the chairs, elbows resting on its arms and fingers tented together as they pressed against his pursed lips.

Injuries to Robin were not a new thing to Bruce, and yet he had been unprepared for what he saw when Leslie had Dick settled in the room and allowed Bruce to sit with him. The bruises and swelling around the teen’s jaw-line were a putrid green color, and butterfly-sutures closed the deepest splits to dry lips. The stitches at the corners of his mouth were covered with bandages and the father was tempted to lift them just to assure himself the scars remaining would be nothing like the Joker’s. The hospital gown covered Dick’s body, but through the thin fabric the deep discoloration of bruising was noticeable. The neck – Bruce tried not to look at it too often or too long. The unmistakable hand-shaped bruises encircling his boy’s throat made him nauseous and sent surges of rage coursing through him.

With hands resting on top of the thin blankets covering him, the metal cuffs fused to Dick’s skin were readily visible. Gauze bandages wrapped around the edges and parts of the lower arm, ointment and burn relief cream lathered beneath to stave off further infection.

Next to the bed hung two boluses of fluid on the IV stand; the catheter inserted above the bend of the elbow into the basilica vein due to the injuries to the lower arms. The clear fluids was a saline and glucose solution, laced with potent antibiotics, would rehydrate the starved teen and hopefully fight the infection before it set in any of the already weakened internal organs. The second was unmistakable; a third unit of transfused blood to replace what Dick had lost.

“Bruce?” The gentle hand on his shoulder startled him, having been unaware of anyone else entering the room.

He chided himself and turned to the dark haired woman standing beside him.  “Diana.”

The civilian dressed Wonder Woman offered him a small smile of support and crouched beside her friend. “Have you slept any?”

Bruce shook his head and turned back to the unconscious boy in the bed.

She sighed, carefully settling her hand over the brace on the billionaire’s right wrist. She fingered the swollen and bloodied knuckles lightly, drawing the man’s attention back to her. “What happened?”

“Fell wrong during the quake,” He said in a low voice.

A delicately arched eyebrow rose gently in silent skepticism.

“Fine. Repeated impacts with bullet proof glass and Clark’s jaw.”

Diana nodded knowingly. “He wants to be here, for you and Dick, but-”

“Until they can remove the kryptonite it’s best if he stays away,” Bruce growled.

“Is that the only reason?” the Amazon princess asked bluntly. When he didn’t answer, she stood up and walked to the small figure in the bed. She stared at the teen a moment, and Bruce noted the near imperceptible tensing of her shoulder. Reaching with a mother’s care, Diana brushed a strand of dark hair back from the forehead.

“He’s going to be all right,” she said quietly, to reassure herself as much as Bruce.

“In time,” the father said. “There was more damage to the muscles of his legs than Leslie first thought. They discovered the wounds to his thighs didn’t penetrate just to the bone, but into them as well. Whatever pierced his legs burrowed into the bone marrow. She’s concerned about the potential for Osteomyelitis.”

“A bone infection?” Wonder Woman allowed her sorrow and worry to show in her features as she carefully took one of Dick’s hands into her own. “When will they know?”

“With his body already fighting one infection, it’s hard to diagnose.” He rubbed a weary hand down his face and he leaned forward in his chair. “But he’s on a broad spectrum of antibiotics, so that should help prevent another infection and treat it should it develop.”

“That’s something, I suppose,” Diana cupped Dick’s face in her palm before leaning down to kiss the youth’s forehead. “I should get back out there. I only wanted to check on you both.”

Bruce nodded absently.

As she walked toward the door she paused at his side, a strong comforting hand falling to his shoulder. “Just so you know; there is a contingent of barely concealed young heroes waiting on the roof of the building across the street. What should I tell them?”

“To get back to work,” the Batman snapped.

Diana just smiled and parted her lips to speak but someone beat her to it.

“Bruce…”

The man was surging to his feet at the raspy breath of a voice from the bed. He tenderly gripped his son’s hand. “Dick?” The boy’s eyes were still closed, but there was undeniable movement beneath the lids. “Son, can you hear me?”

Bloodshot blue eyes flittered open a slit before falling shut again. He groaned softly and his hand weakly squeezed Bruce’s.

“I’ll get Leslie,” Diana whispered with a quick touch to the father’s shoulder. The door clicked behind her before he realized she was gone.

“Dick?” Keeping hold of the teen’s hand, Bruce let his other rest gently on Dick’s head and began stroking the hair. “Dick, open your eyes.”  The stern, yet warm, command succeeded.

With great effort, the lids opened a second time and kept them open. The eyes darted around the room, the heart monitor speeding up noticeably and nostrils flaring in panic. Dick’s mouth opened but he couldn’t get the strength to speak again.

“Shh,” Bruce crooned, moving his hand from the forehead to his son’s cheek where he kept the boy’s gaze on him. “You’re safe now, Son.”

The grip on Bruce’s hand tightened, the muscles in his exhausted arms trying to lift him from the bed.  Unable to add strength to his voice, Dick was only able to mouth a single word: “Dad…”

The fear on the face – something Bruce had not seen since Dick’s first year as Robin – was all he needed before he was tugging gently to bring his son to a sitting position. He moved swiftly, positioning himself behind the battered body and letting Dick’s back lean against his chest.

He wrapped his arms around his son, Dick’s arms enfolded within his own – careful not to disturb the IV lines and catheter – and pressed his cheek to the dark hair. At once he could feel Dick’s body shaking with silent sobs, the boy’s face dry as his body was too starved for fluids to spare the tears.

“Shhh,” Bruce whispered into the hair around the lump in his throat, lips pressing against the scalp comfortingly. “Shhh, you’re safe now. You’re safe.

“It’s over.”

Chapter Text

METROPOLIS (DAILY PLANET) – At 1:34am local time, (9:34am GMT), Gotham City, New Jersey, was reminded of the fault line beneath its city. A huge earthquake, which measured 8.4 on the Richter scale, lasted 84 seconds and has killed more than 200 people.

With more than 100,000 injured and missing, and early estimates placing the damage at nearly $450 Million, the death toll is expected to rise as rescuers continue to pull bodies from collapsed buildings.

Gotham City Emergency Services are already stretched to the limit, and volunteers from other cities are finding entrance into the disaster area near impossible. The quake has resulted in the shutdown of both power plants, closing the airport which is otherwise undamaged. Due to the severe damage to hospitals and clinics, doctors are having to perform surgery in the open air.

The area’s worst hit is reported to have been the neighborhood locally known as Crime Alley, where the quake is likely to have affected up to three million people. The devastation has been attributed to the age of the neighborhood, the derelict state of most of the buildings, as well as being the suspected epicenter of the quake. Rescue personnel are finding it difficult to reach many sections of the area.

Supervisor for the Coroner’s Office, Nora Fields, said it was fortunate the quake had struck during the night. She said: "If this had happened in the middle of the day, we would have been stacking up the bodies."

Experts are warning of potential aftershocks, and police have issued a statement warning of isolated cases of looting. Mayor of Gotham City, Hamilton Hill, has declared a state of emergency, and an evening curfew has been imposed, telling residents to “stay home, and stay calm.”

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LOS ANGELES (TIMES) – In the early morning hours following an 8.3 magnitude earthquake in Gotham City, N.J, the largest earthquake recorded in the history of the Continental United States, search and rescue personnel made the startling discovery of recently abducted Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson (13).

Adopted son of billionaire Bruce Wayne (32), Grayson was kidnapped four days prior to the quake. The teen had been ransomed for an undisclosed amount.

Initial reports claim that the building the teen was being held captive partially collapsed in a sinkhole, which resulted in the complete collapse of two nearby apartment buildings and an undetermined number of deaths.

There have been no reports on Richard’s condition.

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WASHINGTON DC (POST) – It was believed to have been the largest natural earthquake in recent United States history – but has been revealed to have been a terrorist attack.

Sources inside the White House have confirmed that the devastating 8.3 magnitude earthquake that shook the East Coast in the early Monday morning hours was the result of a device created by known criminal Lawrence ‘Crusher’ Crock (38), aka Sportsmaster, and an unnamed accomplice.

“It is a sad state of affairs when one of its own Citizens would be part of such a horrifying attack on this country,” Themyscira Ambassador and Justice League spokesperson, Wonder Woman, said from Gotham City where she and many members of the League aided in search and rescue. “Rest assured that, in cooperation with the United States Government, the Justice League will be working to bring those responsible for this travesty to justice.”

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STAR CITY (CHRONICLE) – The man responsible for the abduction of Dick (Richard) Grayson, age thirteen, must have been a boy scout. Securing his hostage with Kryptonite-layered shackles, Sportsmaster, aka Lawrence Crock, was definitely prepared.

In recent years it has been speculated that Wayne Enterprises has been a silent contributor to the Justice League, along with several other multi-billion-dollar companies, and perhaps the reason for such precautions with his victim – a precaution that could see him facing first degree murder charges.

In leaked hospital documents, it has been noted that Grayson will require surgery to remove the metal restraints that had been welded to his wrists. The procedure has been delayed as an infection, the result of any one of numerous critical injuries, left the boy fighting for his life when his temperature spiked to nearly 106 degrees.

There has been no statement from the family as to the rumor of the Kryptonite cuffs, as early this morning Grayson was put into a medical coma while doctors work to stabilize his condition.

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SEATTLE (TRIBUNE) – Lawrence “Crusher” Crock (38), aka Sportsmaster, former Olympian turned criminal, claims the youth he abducted from a Gotham City Prep-School, Richard Grayson (13), is The Batman’s Sidekick known as Robin.

The man, ranked 64 on Interpol’s most wanted list, says he was hired by an unknown source to discover the Gotham City’s young hero’s identity. He has said that after months of investigation he learned that not only was Richard parading around as Robin, but that his adopted father Bruce Wayne (32) was Batman.

In a statement made from Gotham City General Hospital, where his son is fighting for his life after his ordeal, an emotional Bruce Wayne had this to say:

“These are the accusations made by a man who stormed a high school filled with children with armed men, accosted and terrorized dozens of the students, before taking my son by force. This is a man who repeatedly beat a young boy-”

It was here Mr. Wayne was overcome by his emotions and took several moments to be comforted by his devoted butler, Alfred Pennyworth (67), and family friend, Oliver Queen (32). When Mr. Wayne was unable to continue, he was escorted out of the room by Mr. Queen, and the rest of the statement was made by an equally distraught Mr. Pennyworth.

“This is a man who repeatedly beat a young boy, who starved him for days, who strangled him and left him to be killed in a disaster of his creating.  We have seen the ‘evidence’ as presented by Mr. Crock, and it is circumstantial at best, leaving it to many different interpretations.”

“I knew Thomas Wayne and have known Bruce since the day he was born,” Gotham City Police Commissioner, James Gordon (53), is quoted as responding to the claims. “And while I love him as I would my own son, I can promise you this: Bruce Wayne is no Batman. That said, we have learned that Richard Grayson was not the only one to be held captive by Sportsmaster in the days prior to the quake, and it is our belief that these are nothing more than the lies of a desperate man attempting to ruin more lives than he already has.”

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GOTHAM CITY (GAZETTE) – In a startling revelation, the Justice League has acknowledged that it was forewarned of an impending attack on America.

At a press conference held in front of the Hall of Justice, Green Lantern had this to say:

“Several days ago, the protégé of a League founding member was taken captive by the man known as Sportsmaster and his associates. With the hope that it would prevent League interference, the youth was taken and used as a hostage.”

Green Lantern then went on to answer several questions, confirming that the hostage was Batman’s sidekick for the past four years, Robin. Included in his answers was his opinion on the accusations from Sportsmaster about Batman and Robin’s identities.

“Dick Grayson? Never met the kid, but I saw him once in the circus he belonged to before his parents were killed. He has talent, potential, but if any of you have seen Robin in action you know it takes more than acrobatic skills to do what Robin does. Besides, we’ve all seen Robin working with the League and other Heroes with disaster relief in Gotham while Dick Grayson is in a coma.

“Now as for Bruce Wayne, (here the Lantern had to cover an irreverent laugh) what you see is what you get. A playboy billionaire without an original thought in his head.”

When asked why the League would hold the life of one boy in higher regard than the nation, the Lantern responded:

“The Batman did not, at first, notify us of Robin’s captivity. We were unaware of the situation until the theft at Queen Industries Research and Development division in Star City, where threats to Robin’s life were used to keep Green Arrow’s partner, Red Arrow, from stopping Sportsmaster and his accomplices from stealing several prototypes and sensitive information.

“Even after that, neither Batman nor the League knew to what end Sportsmaster was working. Once it was discovered the nature of his plan, every effort was made to stop him. Had not the device – which he created with what he had stolen – been stopped when it was, the lives lost would have been in the millions.”

After refusing to explain exactly what the device was and what it did, or who Sportsmaster’s accomplice was, Green Lantern explained with a grin just how the attack was stopped.

“That’s easy; Batman. Not only had Sportsmaster kidnapped Batman’s partner but had the gall to attack Batman’s City. Any criminal wannabe can tell you, don’t (tick) off the bat on his turf.”

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METROPOLIS (DAILY PLANET) – While numbers of fatalities from the Gotham Quake earlier this week steadily rises and the hopes for those missing falls, good news comes out of Gotham City General Hospital with the waking of Richard Grayson.

The thirteen-year-old youth was found near death in the remains of one of the many decimated buildings in Gotham City’s Crime Alley. After a dangerous infection set in and Richard’s temperature spiked high enough to induce convulsions, the doctors treating him put him in a coma in the hopes of giving his body the chance it needed to stabilize and recover.

When treatment for the infection continued to fail, it became apparent the untreated wounds beneath the manacles were most likely the cause of the persistent infection. Despite the risk, the surgery to remove the Kryptonite shackles seared to his arms was performed. Internal sources have confirmed that Grayson’s heart stopped once during the procedure, but long-time family friend and physician, Dr. Lesley Thompkins, was able to perform a quick resuscitation.

Less than twenty four hours after the surgery, and more intensive treatment to the discovered wounds on Richard’s wrists, the deadly fever broke and the medical coma was lifted.

There has been no comment from the family.

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NEW YORK (CNNMoney) -- News of the earthquake that rocked Gotham City has been widespread, but donations have lagged far behind.

Seven days after the 8.3 quake, donations to nonprofit organizations have reached about $87 million, according to a tally by the Chronicle of Philanthropy, a newspaper covering nonprofits.

In comparison, one week after the earthquake in Haiti, donations totaled about $275 million. In the case of Hurricane Katrina, it was over $522 million.

Of the donations to date, the American Red Cross raised approximately $64 million for the Gotham City earthquake response, which includes more than $2.8 million in text donations.

Save the Children raised $5.8 million; World Vision U.S. said they received $3 million as of Wednesday; and The Salvation Army received more than $2.5 million.

But most organizations told the Chronicle that they had raised less than $1 million and more than a dozen relief groups, including Doctors Without Borders, said they are not actively raising money for relief efforts at all.

At the same time, corporations have stepped up with significant pledges and donations. As of this morning, Wayne Enterprises and Queen Industries have pledged about $150 million in cash and in-kind donations for disaster relief in Gotham City, according to the U.S. Chamber of Commerce…

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NEW YORK (ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY) – The world will be watching the Vicki Vale Show next week, when in an unprecedented live event she will be interviewing abductee Dick (Richard) Grayson and his adopted father, billionaire Bruce Wayne, from their private room in Gotham City General Hospital.

At the request of the recovering teen, Wayne – who has kept his son from the press since his adoption five years ago – has agreed to the interview to talk about his son’s ordeal in the days prior to the Gotham Quake, as well as address rumors of their being the globally recognized heroes, Batman and Robin.

Already the one-hour interview has been picked up by the Associated Press and will be airing live in nearly two dozen countries, with it scheduled to air again in prime time slots across the globe.

 Advertising spots are selling for triple the cost of the average Super Bowl spot, and GCN (Gotham City Network) will be donating 100% of the proceeds to disaster relief. CNN, ABC, and NBC are following suit, and it is expected that this will garner close to $100 million in relief funds.

Chapter Text

He couldn’t breathe.

The hand around his throat cut off any intake of air he might have taken, and his eyes went wide in panic as he clawed at the iron-like fingers.

“Easy, Dick, easy,” the voice was not what he expected and it took a moment for him to recognize it.

Bruce.

And then he could breathe again, deep ragged gasps that bordered on hysterical sobs. 

Gentle fingers moved his own hand away from his throat and then were helping him sit up in his bed.  No, not his bed, the hospital bed he’d been restricted to now for more than a week. 

“Breathe slowly, son,” Bruce was coaching him as the older man sat on the edge of the mattress next to him.

Dick nodded and fought to keep from hyperventilating. He closed his eyes, chasing the lingering images of his dream back into his subconscious. He heard the door open and a whispered conversation between the shift nurse, alerted by the sudden spike in his vitals monitor, and his guardian. A moment later the door closed again.

“Nightmare?” Bruce’s concerned question came when he had finally calmed.

Opening his eyes, Dick nodded and looked around the room.

The curtains were open, the early afternoon sun streaming in through the glass and casting natural warmth across the foot of his bed. The TV was on, volume low enough that he could barely hear it, and broadcasting news from the disaster area. A newspaper was haphazardly strewn over the armrest of a plush chair; a chair that had until a few seconds ago been occupied by the only other occupant of the room.

A strong hand gave the teen’s a comforting squeeze, drawing his eyes back to Bruce’s. “What to tell me about it?” The older man asked carefully.

Dick shook his head, and then flinched when his mentor’s free hand brushed against the still bruised skin of his throat.

“I appreciate it’s tough, Dick,” the Batman said lowly, “but it’ll be even tougher later.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” the boy barely managed to whisper. He cleared his throat while Bruce reached for a glass of partly melted ice chips. Dick sipped through the straw before pushing it aside with his guardian’s supporting hand.

“Nothing,” the billionaire arched an eyebrow and tenderly cupped the youth’s cheek while his thumb brushed against the fresh scars that adorned the corner of Dick’s mouth. Beneath the touch he felt his son’s shudder of revulsion. “I know who these remind you of, but you’re saying they’re nothing to you?”

“Or these?” Bruce lifted the heavily bandaged arm. His fingers brushed against the gauze and he watched his son cringe at the contact. “Clark has told me about Metropolis, Dick, I know how he found, and lost, you there.  And you’re trying to tell me that doesn’t play a part in your new nightmares?”

Dick swallowed hard and wanted nothing more than to pull away from his father when the man’s fingers ghosted over the lingering bruises circling his neck. “Stop,” he pleaded.

“Or about what Guardian did to you in Star City?”

“Stop it…”

Bruce’s heart ached at the tone of his son’s voice and he lowered the hand to the boy’s shoulder. “I don’t want to be cruel, Dick. I’ve seen the security footage, Dick, and heard Red Arrow’s debriefing. I know what’s happened to you, I just… Why won’t you talk to me?”

“Bruce, I-”

A soft rapping at the door interrupted the pair, and the relief was plain on Dick’s face. Bruce fought off a sigh and let go of the boy as he turned to the different nurse that had entered, moving back to his chair.

“Well hello there, Mr. Grayson!” The gray-haired woman said cheerfully. “I had thought you’d still be resting.”

Dick forced a smile but didn’t respond, though she didn’t really seem to expect one as she immediately turned her attention to the other person in the room. “You asked to be notified when they were here, Mr. Wayne. Also, your helicopter and pilot are waiting for you whenever you’re ready.”

Bruce glanced at Dick briefly before folding his paper properly. “Thank you, Ms Giesbrecht. And you can let them in now.”

“You’re leaving,” Dick’s raspy voice stopped whatever the nurse was going to say. An uncomfortable silence filled the room for a moment before the woman politely excused herself and left.

“Dick-”

“No, it’s fine,” pained blue eyes turned away from the older man. “The worse is over now, right? With the state the city is in I know you’ve got a lot of more important things to worry about now that I’m getting better.”

There was no hiding the growl that emerged from Bruce’s throat as he climbed out of the chair and to his son’s side again. He firmly, yet gently, took hold of the boy’s chin and turned him back to face him. “There is absolutely nothing more important to me right now that being here.”

The desperate need to believe him was burning in those expressive eyes and Dick licked nervously at his lips. “Then why-”

The door opened, again interrupting what he was going to say and an all too familiar voice broke the rising tensions. “Whoops…”

Bruce grinned lightly, something only Dick would have seen, and took a step back. “Because I thought you would like some time with your friends, without me in the way.”

Dick’s eyes lit up at the five teens standing awkwardly in the door way. His face split into a wide, honest smile and a second later he was being nearly smothered by Artemis and Megan, Miss Martian’s human identity. Both girls were crying against his neck and he looked over to the three boys for help, only to have Wally crash into the side of the bed as he rushed to join the impromptu group hug. Conner walked calmly over to the group, but didn’t hesitate to latch on to the growing pile of bodies.

Through the mass of teenagers, Dick could see Bruce speaking quietly with Roy for a moment before the older man left the room and closed the door. The oldest teen looked over to the bed and shook his head with a wry smile. “Okay guys; let the poor kid breathe already!”

Four suddenly fiercely blushing heroes leapt back from the bed and Dick couldn’t help but chuckle as they all mumbled embarrassed apologies. He was about to say something to his friends when Roy was abruptly taking their places and all but glomping on to him.

“Don’t ever to that to me again, Rob,” Roy’s voice was thick and low with emotion, and Dick doubted any but he, and maybe Superboy, had heard the whisper.

When everyone had found a seat – Megan and Artemis on either side of him, Wally sitting akimbo on the foot of the bed with Conner sitting on the edge beside him, and Roy sitting in the chair Bruce had vacated – several awkward seconds passed before anyone spoke.

“So,” Megan was the first to break the silence, “Richard Grayson, huh?”

Robin sat propped up with his pillow and shrugged. “I prefer ‘Dick’, actually, but yeah.”

“Does that mean no more shades in the Mountain?” Wally asked with a playful grin.

“Shut it, Baywatch,” Artemis’ sneer lacked her usually bite, “you already knew!”

“Baywatch?” Roy arched an eyebrow at the speedster then turned an evil grin to his fellow archer. “You’ve got some stories to tell, Artie.”

“Artie?” Dick smiled at the look shared between the two.

“They’ve been like that since Metropolis,” Megan said with a soft smile to her only female teammate. “But won’t tell us what went on between them.”

“We shared a moment,” Artemis said haughtily, her nose tiling up into the air

“We were shot at,” Roy shook his head. “Near-death experiences tend to bring people together. Or so I’m told.”

“Rob, you okay?” Wally had been watching his friend and had seen the look in those sapphire-like eyes at the mention of Metropolis.

Silence fell immediately around them as all eyes turned to the recovering teen. He offered them a shaky smile in return. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Liar,” Conner, blunt as always, spoke for the first time since entering the room. “You wouldn’t be here still if you were fine.”

“Conner,” Megan chided softly.

Artemis put a comforting hand to Dick’s shoulder. “When did the doc’s say you’ll be out of here?”

“A couple weeks yet,” he answered quietly.

Roy whistled softly. “That bad?”

Dick nodded. “Yeah, that bad.”

“No one would tell us anything,” Wally told the bed ridden boy. “What we know we got from overhearing things or from the news. We know more about Kaldur’s condition that we do about yours.”

“How is Kaldur?” Robin asked, desperate for a change of topic. “Bruce told me he got hurt in Star Labs.”

“Sportsmaster,” Artemis sneered the name with such loathing is shocked all but Roy, “really did a number on him. Dinah says that King Orin plans on keeping him in Atlantis and not letting him back to the surface.”

“Kaldur might love Atlantis and is loyal to his king,” Conner said with a shrug, “but he won’t stay longer than he has to. He’ll be back.”

“Will you?” Roy asked, almost as bluntly as Conner would have.

“Will I what?” Robin stalled.

“Come back,” Megan said with dread, “to the team.”

“To Robin,” Roy clarified. “We know someone’s playing the role for now-”

“They won’t tell us who, though,” Wally said spitefully.

“He’s a good guy,” Dick told them with a light grin. “He’s different, but he’s good. He’s the one who finally got me away from Guardian and-” he cut himself off with a glance to the blonde beside him.

“You can say it,” Artemis told him, though she appreciated his consideration. “They all know now.”

“And we’re cool with it,” Conner nodded briskly.

“We know where her loyalties lie,” Roy said with finality.

Dick snorted. “I could have told you that.”

Artemis squeezed his shoulder gently and smiled down at him curiously. “So you knew? And didn’t say anything”

He nodded. “I knew after that first mission, with the nanotech cloud.”

The blonde cringed. “So then you knew about-”

“Uh huh.”

“And you still didn’t-”

“Nope.”

“Damn,” Artemis slumped into the mattress, her head resting on Dick’s shoulder. “Well, why not?”

“Wasn’t my secret to tell,” He shrugged, purposefully jostling her from her comfortable position. “Besides, Ollie and Bruce trusted you, so that was good enough for me.”

“Care to let the rest of us in on the big secret?” Wally had watched the exchange between the two like he would have watched a ping-pong game.

“No,” both answered simultaneously and both looking like the cat that ate the canary.

“So this new guy,” Conner steered the conversation back, “he’s just a temporary replacement, right?”

Once again all eyes were on the youngest member of their team. Dick sighed. “I’m going to be here for a while, guys. Recovery’s going to take at least three months, maybe more. And there could be permanent complications from a few of the injuries.”

“Like what?” Roy growled, his voice filled with his desire for revenge on his young friend’s behalf.

When the younger boy hesitated the red head gripped the arms of the chair before standing. “Guys, can you give us a few minutes?”

Looks were exchanged, but a moment later the girls and Conner were excusing themselves from the room. Wally walked with them to the door but closed it behind them before turning back to his friends. Seeing Roy’s acceptance at his presence he approached the bed.

“I was there, Dick,” he said quietly. “In Metropolis, I saw you and Superman. And I – I saw what those bastards had done to you.”

Dick swallowed visibly and refused to meet either teen’s gaze.

Roy moved the distance between the chair and bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. “Look, we get it-”

“No, you really don’t,” Dick snapped uncharacteristically.

A heavy silence fell around the trio of friend, the youngest still avoiding looking at the others.

Wally had had enough, and reached for the medical chart that hung from the foot of the bed. Dick didn’t even get a chance to protest before the speedster had the cover page flipped open and began reading. “First, second and third degree burns to the arms and wrists: I’m guessing that’s from the cuffs they had on you. Acute Kidney failure: they didn’t feed you or give you anything to drink for three-”

“Four,” Roy corrected, not taking his eyes away from the boy in the bed.

“-Four days, so that’s to be expected. Numerous lacerations the required a total of 87 stitches, which no doubt contributed to the hypotension and the heart failure during surgery ‘cause seriously, you can only loose so much blood before it becomes an issue.”

“Fine,” Dick snarled and stopped his friend from continuing. “What do you want me to say? Sportsmaster and Guardian beat the shit out of me for days and had fun doing it? Well yeah, they did! But none of that-” he gestured forcefully to the board still in Wally’s hand “-is anything I haven’t already gone through before! So you know what, there’s nothing to get! I’m fine, alright!”

Roy sighed and placed a tentative hand on the other’s shoulder. When it wasn’t immediately shrugged off he squeezed gently until the boy finally looked at him. “Not alright. There is something to get and you’re right, we don’t, but we want to, Rob.”

“Dick,” he interrupted with a sullen pout.

Roy let a faint smile touch his lips. “Dick. We’ve all been there, we’ve all be hurt doing this job.”

Dick swallowed again and shook his head. “Not like this.”

Wally put the clipboard back and sat opposite Roy. “Like what?”

Leaning back in his pillow, Dick fisted his hands and pressed them into his tearing eyes. He didn’t want them to see.

“Dick,” Wally gently took hold of the bandaged wrists and pulled the hands down. “Like what?”

With a shaking breath, Dick exhaled, forcing himself to ignore the hitch in his voice when he spoke. “I can’t remember how many times I’ve been kidnapped, did you know that? Joker, Two-Face, Catwoman, all of them; at one point or another, every big player and even some of the two-bit hoods have tried to get to Batman through Robin. And every time I was gagged and tied up, or beat up, or tortured, or nearly killed, I knew I was going to be fine because Batman – or the League, or you guys – was coming to the rescue. It wasn’t a question of if, but when. I just knew.”

“But this time…” The tears were burning now, his eyes stinging as they ran down his cheeks unchecked. “There were times where help was so close, when I could believe I was about to be saved. God, Roy, when I saw you in Star City-!” he choked on the words and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the hand on his shoulder start to tremble. “God help me, I wanted them to take you too! I was just so scared and alone-”

He shook his head fiercely, wanting nothing more than to end it there but the words were coming now and there was no stopping them.

“When they took me to Metropolis I thought: how stupid of them! Taking me to the one place where it was almost guaranteed that I’d been found, Superman’s City. And even as cruel and painful and horrifying it was to be conscious while they welded the cuffs closed, I couldn’t stop laughing inside that it was almost over. And then they were gone, and Superman- god! He didn’t come! I yelled and screamed myself hoarse and still he wasn’t there! And I was so… mad! I just wanted someone to save me but there was no one! I just wanted someone to save me…”

He felt arms around him, soft arms, and when he let his eyes open he saw a silently sobbing Miss Martian holding on to him. The telepath was shaking with the effort of remaining quiet, and Dick could only offer her a watery smile for comfort. “And then he was…and I nearly got him killed. Superman could have died and it would have been my fault.”

She shook her head and let it fall gently onto his shoulder.

Dick looked around him and saw Conner with his arm around Artemis at the foot of his bed, and a familiar shadow filling the doorway as it clicked shut behind him. He locked his eyes with it, took a steadying breath, and let himself continue.

“There was only me,” he told them in a choked whisper, but in the silence it was deafening. “But I was so... weak.” He grimaced as if the word pained him to say. “They put me in that machine, used my entire body to open the wormhole when even a single drop of blood should have been enough! The pain – god, it hurt so badly and I just wanted it to end! But I couldn’t escape, and there was no rescue coming and… you weren’t there! You weren’t there!”

The teens around him flinched at his broken sobs and backed away when Bruce was suddenly pushing through them to get to Dick’s side.

“I was right there! I was dying and you-! Why weren’t you there?” The boy cried into his mentor’s shoulder as he took M’gann’s place, strong arms shaking as they held him. “Why weren’t you there?”

Chapter Text

Visiting hours were over, finally, and the last of Dick’s visitors had left. Most of the student body, and faculty, of Gotham Academy had been by to see him at some point over the last few days, and it was surprising how tiring trying to smile and be upbeat for near strangers was.  He was glad to see the last of them go.

Bruce had left word with Sarah, the day shift nurse, that he would be late coming up to the hospital. The man had taken a trip out to Metropolis on business and the train back was delayed because of repairs to the Gotham Station.

Truth be told, Dick didn’t mind. He was luxuriating in the quiet that came from finally being alone.  The hospital bed reclined back and he closed his eyes.

“Knock, knock, Dickie-bird,” the voice interrupted his silence a moment later.

Dick started at the sound, not having heard the door open, but when he glanced at the entrance to the room no one was there. A movement at the corner of his eyes had him snapping his head to the side. Robin sat straddling the windowsill, half in and half out of the eighth story window.

“Jason?” Dick flung the blanket of his legs and swung them to the floor. He was still unsteady on them, his damaged muscles unable to take his weight for long, but was able to make it over to the boy while wheeling the IV stand with him. “What are you doing here?”

A wide grin was plastered on the time traveler’s masked face as he was looking down.  He took hold of Dick’s arm and gently pulled him closer to the window until his torso was hanging out beside him. “Smile for the cameras.”

Sure enough, eight stories below the media that was still camped outside the Hospital were all aiming their cameras upward. Flashes were flickering wildly as they tried to get a decent picture of the Boy Wonder and the Gotham Prince. Dick couldn’t stop the smirk that tugged at his lips. He shook his head at the other boy’s audacity and ducked back inside.

“Really,” Dick gripped the pole of the IV stand to keep steady, “You disappear for days, to the point where even Batman can’t find you, and then you decide to show up here for a photo op?”

Jason chuckled and climbed the rest of the way into the room, closing the window behind him. “Dude, get back into bed.” He picked up the smaller boy, eliciting a startled yelp from the thirteen year old, and sat him back on the mattress.

Dick rolled his eyes but repositioned himself to sit comfortably on his bed none the less. “Seriously though,” he brought his knees up to his chest, arms folded across them, “where have you been? Bruce said you were helping out with the search and rescue but you vanished two days ago. No one could find you, not even him.”

“Because I didn’t want to be found,” Jason shrugged and hopped onto the bed’s footboard. He balanced there for a moment before allowing himself to step forward gently, so as not to jostle the bed, and sat akimbo across from Dick on the mattress. “I wasn’t supposed to get as involved as I did, Dick. Protecting your secret was never part of the plan.”

“You mean not part of Batman’s plan – your Batman, that is.” Dick watched the other carefully. “So what made you?”

Jason shrugged. “It was just easier said than done.” Through the lenses of the domino mask, green and blue eyes met. “Do you have any idea what you looked like when I showed up?”

A chill formed in the room and Dick looked away from the intensity of the older teen’s expression. He wanted to tell him it wasn’t that bad, but he knew the reality. Bruce had reluctantly shown him the evidence photographs that had been taken when he’d been brought the hospital. He knew it had been bad.

The substitute Robin let the pregnant quiet linger for only a moment before he was talking again. “So I figured: this is my world now. Might as well make something of myself and I got to admit that it’s kind of fun playing the hero.”

“You’re not playing,” Dick turned back to face him. “You saved my life, Jason. You gave up everything to stop Sportsmaster from killing me. That’s a hero by anyone’s definition.”

“Not all that much to give up, kid,” Jason shrugged again. “It was a no brainer, actually. If I didn’t let Batman train me, it was back to life on the streets. I’d probably be in jail or dead by now. Besides, a new life with a handful of millions in my pocket makes it all good in my book.”

“Even if it’s a few million less than when you came here?” Dick arched an eyebrow at the other’s cavalier attitude.

“What are you talking about, Dickie-Bird?”

Stretching and leaning to the newspaper lying on the nearby chair, ignoring the stitch of pain that flared though his abdomen, Dick grabbed the paper and brought it between them. “Page four, below the fold.”

Jason flipped thought the paper to the circled article. It was small, more a blurb than an article. He kept his face stoic as he read the words.

“Is she really your Aunt?” Dick asked quietly after a moment when the paper was set down again.

“Yeah,” Jason nodded, “my father’s older sister. In my world, here too, she tried to get custody of me about six months after my mom died. Dad fought her – don’t know why – and she couldn’t afford the legal fees to take it to through the higher courts. I figured, since I’m already switching things up…”

Dick quirked a half-smile, “Anonymously give her two million dollars and point her to your younger self?”

“With the old man in prison right now and with the mini-me in the papers the last few days it wasn’t that hard.”

“He’s a hero too, you know” Dick pointed out.

Jason snorted, “Only because we set the little toe-rag up to be one! I didn’t think the media would make such a big deal out of it when I first suggested it.”

“He’s being credited with finding me,” Dick shrugged, allowing a teasing glint in his eyes. “I can’t help it the people missed me and want to reward the ‘toe-rag’ that brought me back to them.”

With his own smirk evident, Jason leaned over and flicked the end of Dick’s nose. “Ego much?”

Chuckling the two teens settled into a comfortable silence.

“So what now?” Dick asked a moment later. “I mean, you came back.”

“Never really left,” Jason told him, a faint blush of crimson coloring his cheeks. “I took off to find Aunt Becca and get the monies set up for her and the kid.”

“So you’re sticking around then?” Dick didn’t bother masking his hope for just that.

“Nowhere else to go. Besides,” Jason poked him in the leg, “you up to donning the mask and cape again yet?”

Dick shook his head. “I’m off Robin duty for a few months yet.” His disappointment was clear.

“I’m looking at an apartment just off Monolith Square,” the older boy told him, “big windows, roof access, lots of space for training and gear – so long as your Batman doesn’t mind me filling in for a while. I won’t stick around his City too long. Just long enough until you’re back on the feet. After that, I might scope out Bludhaven or maybe New York.”

“Or you could come back to the manor and work with me.”

Both boys started with surprise. Dick tensed and Jason leapt from the bed at the first sound of the deep voice. Robin instinctively dropped into a defensive position between Dick and the unknown. A second later when they both realized it was Bruce standing in the doorway Dick relaxed and Jason lowered his arms, but otherwise remained rigid as it expecting an attack.

The door clicked closed behind the older man and he walked purposefully toward Robin. “You’re a hard man to track down.”

Jason shrugged. “You taught me.”

“No, I didn’t.”  Bruce folded his arms across his chest, Batman evident in his posture and face despite the absence of the cowl. “I am not him, Robin, and you need to realize that. I’ve well aware of what he’s done-”

“No,” Jason snarled, arms folding and standing in an eerily identical pose as Bruce, “you’re not!”

Bruce took a small memory chip from his lapel pocket. “You left this in my office at Wayne Enterprises before you disappeared.”

“You needed the evidence,” Jason snapped.

“And did you bother looking at just what it was that my counterpart compiled?”

“Why would I?”

“Because there was a message from him to me. And you.”

That stunned the teen. “Me?”

Bruce reached out slowly, and took hold of Jason’s gloved wrist. He thumbed the Kevlar fabric and moved it away from the wrist computer. He slipped the chip into the reader and a few commands later the holographic screen lit up. A minute more it flickered and a video of Bruce Wayne started

“Hello Bruce,” the man spoke in the gruff voice that Jason knew well. It was obviously the Bruce from his time, the difference of years evident in the man’s face. “If the boy has followed orders I can imagine how confusing this is for you. The mysterious appearance of gigabytes of evidence proving the involvement of some of the world’s most prominent figures in what would have been the worst manmade disaster in history – a mystery I would explain if I didn’t believe that you already know.

“Jason Todd, has saved millions of lives, including that of your son. He was supposed to do so without being seen, but I like to think I know him. No doubt he not only stopped Sportsmaster from killing Dick, he remained to interfere even further.”

Jason cringed at the words, expecting the dressing down that was sure to come.

“Good.” An unfamiliar expression was on the man’s face, curling the corner of his lips into a faint smirk. “Jason, I know you’re watching this because I know that I would have shown it to you were I still the Bruce Wayne standing with you now.

“But I’m not him, not anymore. I don’t regret what I did, Jason, what I trained you to do. When I realized that the world – this world wouldn’t change no matter what we did in the past I made a decision to keep it from you that there are ways to pinpoint the different… frequencies of the multi-verse. I told you that you couldn’t come back and I trained and prepared you as if it were true. It’s not.

“If you chose to return the Batman of that world has the means to see that it happens. And I… Jason, I hope you don’t.

“That may sound cold and uncaring, and maybe it is a little, but you need to realize that I can never been what you need me to be. I am not your friend, Jason, I never was. You were a means to an end and I think, if anything, that is the one thing I do regret. You were not a tool, Jason, but a boy. The last year I’ve come to realize just what I have done to you, and I am sorrier than you will ever know.

“But I don’t want you to come back. The Batman – the Bruce Wayne of where and when you are now is a different man than I am. A better man than I. You have the chance, Jason, to be someone other than who you are: the man you should have been instead of the tool I forged you into. He can help you, finish your training, make you into the Hero that I couldn’t be anymore. I hope that you let him. Let him be for you what I wouldn’t be: A partner, a mentor, and a father.”

Jason swallowed the uncertainty he felt and risked a glance at the Bruce standing in front of him. He was rewarded with a nod and a hidden smile in the dark blue eyes regarding him with optimism.

“Dick…” the recorded voice choked on the name, drawing attention back to the video. “Richard, I miss you every day. You reminded a man consumed by shadows what it meant to be in the light. You took away the thoughts of vengeance and retribution and reminded me the power of Justice. After what I’ve done, Jason needs that. He needs someone like you in his life. You loved me, and made me love you long before I even realized I was capable of loving anyone again.  I… I just wanted to tell you that.

“Bruce… Take care of our boys.”

The video ended and the holographic screen flickered before disappearing.

The room was heavy with the silence. The three occupants each lost in their own thoughts until the quiet yet cheerful voice from the bed broke it with five simple words.

“I’ve always wanted a brother.”

EPILOGUE

“Scared? Yeah… yeah, I was scared – terrified actually. I’d been kidnapped before, but this…”

“How many times has it been, Richard?”

“Honestly? I’m not-”

“Eight.”

“You sound angry, Bruce.”

“Of course I’m angry, Vicki! These people – and I use the term lightly – think that just because I happen to have money they have the right to terrorize my son so they don’t have to do an honest day’s work! I’ve taken measures, every conceivable precaution to keep Dick safe, but he will always be at risk, just because I…”

“Because you, what Bruce?”

“… because I was selfish. I wanted him for my son, and now short of locking him away in the Manor he will never be completely safe.”

“Aw man… please don’t do that, Bruce!”

“I wouldn’t, Dick, but it keeps happening and each time it escalates.”

“How so, Bruce?”

“This Crock fellow, he stormed a school filled with children – putting his own daughter at risk – with men armed with machine guns. If the school didn’t have their lockdown procedures, I can’t help but imagine how many of those children may have been killed or injured just so this man could attempt extorting money from me by taking my son. It scares me to think how far these people will go the next time they get the idea.”

“You think there will be a next time?”

“I pray to god there won’t be! But I’m not naïve enough to think this is the last time someone will try to get to me through Dick.”

“How do you feel about that, Dick? Dick… Richard, are you all right?”

“Easy, Dick, breathe slowly-”

“Break to a commercial!”

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.

.

“Sorry about the interruption, Ladies and Gentlemen. Dick, are you certain you can continue?”

“Yeah, Vicki, I’m okay now. Sometimes… it just hits me, you know?”

“He has panic attacks, Post Traumatic Stress, the doctor’s call it.”

“Do you get flashbacks often, Dick?”

“No, usually it’s just nightmares.”

“What do you dream about?”

“A few things, like when they came to the school or Sportsmaster’s mask or the, uh, the cuffs they used on us.”

“Us, you mean Robin and you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sure you heard the rumor of you being Robin, but photographs like this one taken only last night prove you are definitely two different people. “

“He wanted to check on me. He came through the window because he knew security would be tight around me. We hadn’t seen each other since the day before the Quake…”

“Did it help? Having him there with you?”

“Well, yeah! I couldn’t talk to him – they, uh, kept both of us gagged the entire time – but I could see him and I wasn’t alone, you know? I had no idea why they had him, but I just kept hoping that Batman would come to the rescue. I mean, he’s found me a couple times before when I’ve been kidnapped, and I figured that with Robin being a prisoner too…”

“And when Batman didn’t? When you were separated from the Boy Wonder, how do you feel?”

“Terrified… I was left alone then. I heard them all leave when they took Robin and I knew they weren’t coming back. Even when Bruce paid the ransom I knew they weren’t coming back…”

“Did you think you were going to die?”

“No, I knew I was. I mean… I was hurt, and I hadn’t been given any food or water in days and…”

“Do you need a break, Dick?”

“No, Bruce, I’m okay.”

“Can you tell me about it, Richard?”

“… At first it was like any other time. I was frustrated and a little scared, but when they first took me from school it wasn’t any different. It, uh, got worse quickly though.”

“Why? What made it different?”

“It was the helicopter. Every other time it was a car or truck, but this… a helicopter could take me out of the city faster than the police could be notified. In a car, there’s the chance of being stopped by a patrol car. But a helicopter…

“I don’t know where they took the first day and I wasn’t there long. I was taken from the helicopter to a waiting SUV.  Robin was already there. He got really angry at Sportsmaster when he saw me, demanded to know what game he was playing. The thugs he was working with…they beat him up pretty bad right there. Then…”

“…then what, Dick?”

 “Sportsmaster – Crock, he uh, put a knife against my throat and told Robin that he’d behave better if it meant nothing would happen to me. Said that the money he’d get from Bruce would be icing on the cake. Then he cut me.”

“He cut you?!”

“Just a nick, right here, but it was enough that it started bleeding and Robin agreed not to fight him. We were loaded into the back of the SUV and they blindfolded and gagged me. I think Robin was too, but I don’t know.  I don’t know how long we drove for, it seemed like hours. Robin tried to get my hands free, but they’d been tied with wire and so had his.”

“Not the cuffs?”

“No, those… those were later; after we got to their hideout.”

“Did they say why? Why Kryptonite?”

“Yeah… I was left pretty much alone in the basement, and sometimes they’d leave Robin there with me. But other times they’d take him… somewhere. I’d hear them leave and come back hours later. The last time… when Sportsmaster and the other guy came back they threw Robin down into the basement. Literally just threw him down the stairs and left him there. I could hear them yelling upstairs about having to take precautions for the next stage.”

“Next stage of what?”

“I never heard. It went all quiet upstairs and I think they’d left.”

“How was Robin?”

“Hurt, badly I think. He didn’t move from the bottom of the stairs for more than an hour and when he did he was obviously in a lot pain. But he wasn’t as tied up as before. He was able to remove both our gags and we talked for a while. He could have tried to escape and when I told him that he said he wasn’t going to leave me with them alone. He told me what got Sportsmaster and his partner angry.”

“What was that?”

“I guess they had gone to Star City to steal something. Robin was taken as insurance and was needed to subdue one of the Archers that patrol the city.”

“Red Arrow was assaulted when he attempted to stop a robbery. Video surveillance has shown Robin being held as a hostage at knife point.”

“Sportsmaster likes his knife…”

“Did he ever use it on you again, Dick?”

“… yeah.”

“What did he do?”

“I think we need to take another break, Vicki.”

“Of course, Bruce. We’ll be right back.”

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.

.

“Welcome back. As you can see, we’ve had to move from Dick’s room to a secondary location we had set up just for this eventuality. During the break, Richard Grayson suffered another panic attack and had to be sedated by his physician. Bruce has agreed to finish the interview.

“Thank you, Bruce. I know this can’t have been easy for you, but I can speak for myself and my viewers when I say we have been touched by Dick’s story and can only express our hope for his continued recovery.”

“Thank you, Vicki.”

“Now I know you want to get back to your son, so we’ll wrap this up as quickly as possible. Before the break, Dick was telling us of his ordeal. Can you tell us what happened to him?”

“I sat in with Dick when he gave his statement to the police; I’ve also talked with Commissioner Gordon and have had the gaps in Dick’s memory of events by the forensic evidence as well as the Robin’s statement.”

“So what happened, Bruce? Sportsmaster and his accomplice held your son for four days…”

“Dick has told us that it was after the return from Star City that the kryptonite core cuffs were used. They were welded onto both Robin and Dick while the boys were conscious and the resulting burns on Dick’s wrists and arms are what caused the infection that nearly killed him.”

“But why the Kryptonite?”

“Because of Superman. Robin was to be taken to Metropolis with them when they stole technology from Star Labs. My understanding – and what was reported by not only Robin but the Justice League – Superman was able locate Robin when he had been left behind by Sportsmaster and his accomplices.”

“Why would they risk that?”

“It was all a tap. When Superman rushed to Robin he was overcome by the kryptonite. Sensors that had been set up around the location initiated the second part of the trap and it’s been reported that the Man of Steel was nearly killed. Only the quick response of the Flash and his protégé prevent the man’s death.”

“Which resulted in the Flash’s own grave injuries.”

“That’s what I’ve been led to understand. Two of the original members of the League were nearly killed which left Sportsmaster to escape once more with Robin.”

“So I can understand the use of Kryptonite on Robin, but why secure your son with the same countermeasures?”

“Paranoia? I don’t know, Vicki, and Lawrence Crock has refused to answer any more questions.”

“So while all this was going on in Metropolis, what was happening to Richard?”

“Dick had been stabbed twice, one in each leg, just prior to being strangled into unconsciousness. Robin was apparently made to watch before he was taken to Metropolis and believed Dick had been killed.”

“Obviously, he hadn’t.”

“And I thank God for that!”

“So he had been left alone…?”

“He’d been left to die!”

“… Bruce?”

“I’m sorry, Vicki. I just… this is Dick I’m talking about. What that psychopath did to him… it’s hard.”

“Take all the time you need, Bruce.”

“When the Quake started, all I thought about was Dick. To learn he’d been left bleeding and unconscious in the worst hit part of the city… He could have died, Vicki. Lawrence Crock wanted him to die.”

“But he didn’t.”

“No. It’s ironic, but the Quake probably saved his life. The shaking not only woke him, but it created the sinkhole that exposed the basement where he was being held captive. It allowed him to be seen by that boy looking for help.”

“You mean Jason Todd?”

“The poor boy had broken his arm in the Quake and was on his way to Dr. Leslie Thompkins’ clinic for help. He just happened to come across the sinkhole and he found Dick.”

“Is that why you found his Aunt? Why you gave her the money to file for custody against her imprisoned brother?”

“I was willing to pay millions in ransom to a man that would torture and terrorize a child. Jason Todd gave me back my son and asked for nothing. I could do nothing less than give him the family he gave back to me.”

“Thank you, Bruce. I know this hasn’t been easy, but I want to thank you for taking the time to speak with me and allowing me to talk with Dick.”

“You’re welcome, Vicki. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to my son now.”

“Of course, Bruce.

“When we come back, Ladies and Gentlemen, we’ll be talking with Officers John Blake and Eddie Burlow, the officers who are being credited with the rescue of Richard Grayson.  Stay tuned.”