Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jason was calm.  He was.  He certainly wasn’t breaking any traffic laws.   He certainly wasn’t panicking because Dick hadn’t answered the phone.  Not even a little…  that would be ridiculous. 

Dick had checked in when he finished patrol.  He made it back to his apartment.  He was fine.  He had probably fallen asleep. 

Dick had never slept through Jason calling him before, but there was always a first time… for everything.  Jason wasn’t panicking.  He was driving fast because he was the Red Hood, notorious crime lord of Gotham, and he did what he wanted. 

Jason wasn’t panicking.

Jason’s brain hadn’t quite gotten the memo.  It was coming up with every possible worst-case scenario.  Just because he had finished patrol without anything going wrong, just because he had made it home safe didn’t mean something hadn’t happened after.  Just because he had reported that he was fine didn’t mean he was telling the truth. 

The darkest corners of his mind, where he buried his fears and insecurities, whispered that Dick hadn’t answered because Dick had finally realized that Jason wasn’t worth having as a brother. 

His fears whispered in his mind, reminding him how horrible of a brother he had been when he came back. 

Reminding him that he had done unforgivable things to Dick.

Reminding him that it would make sense for Dick to be done with him for good.

Normally, when his mind started going down those paths, Jason could stare his fears in the face and laugh at them because they clearly didn’t know his older brother. 

On the occasions he couldn’t manage that… on the occasions where his fears were too loud, he would get on his bike and drive to Bludhaven and break into Dick’s apartment.  Dick had yet to kick him out. 

When he couldn’t bring himself to do that, he would ignore Dick’s phone calls to test if he cared.  Jason’s apartment always got invaded when he did that, if not by Dick then by Tim, Damian, Cass (if she was home), or Bruce. 

If Dick wasn’t the one who came then Jason always ended up on the phone with him for a minimum of thirty minutes because it took at least that long to assure Dick he was fine and talk Dick out of his panic. 

If Dick sent someone else instead of coming himself, then Jason could count on his apartment being invaded again the next night or the following depending on what had forced Dick to stay in Blud.  If someone else came, Jason could count on having to share his bed with the octopus that was his older brother on one of the following nights.

It was for all of those reasons that Jason had gotten on his bike and headed toward Bludhaven.  Maybe Dick had fallen asleep and his phone was in a different room so it didn’t wake him up. 

If that was the case, Jason needed to remind his fears who his brother was and he could do that by crashing with him. 

If something had happened after Dick got home or if Dick had lied about being fine, the family needed to know sooner rather than later.  If Dick was now testing Jason to see if he cared, Jason needed to prove that he did. 

Jason was really hoping that Dick had just fallen asleep.

After parking his bike, Jason scaled the wall of Dick’s apartment building.  His blood froze.  His mind flashing back two years, as he crouched on the outside of the window.  He couldn’t move.  The frost in his blood spread, freezing him to the spot.  Two years ago he and Tim had gone to Dick’s apartment only to discover that he had been missing for weeks.  It had taken them months to find him. 

Jason took a deep breath, forcing those memories back.  It wasn’t the same.  It had taken them weeks last time.  But this time only a few hours had passed.  This time Jason had noticed. 

It wasn’t the same.  Jason knew that if he looked the fridge wouldn’t be cleared out.  That thought wasn’t comforting at all.

Glass crunched under his feet as he stepped through the window and scanned the apartment. 

None of the windows were intact.  The couch was several feet from where it was supposed to be.  A chair was tipped over.  The coffee table was completely smashed.  Possessions lay scatted and broken.  A picture lay on the ground, its frame and glass in pieces, a hole in the wall above it.  There was blood everywhere.

Carefully, Jason picked his way through the carnage.  He stilled before crouching down, terror clawing at the inside of his chest.  Reaching out, he picked up the escrima.  The electricity was still on, turned all the way up, and blood glistened on the end. 

Dropping the escrima, Jason shoved himself back to his feet.  There was a trail of blood down the hall.  The guest room was the first in the hall.  Jason knew before throwing open the door that he wouldn’t find anything, but he did it anyway.  Jason glanced into the bathroom as he passed the open door.  Damian’s room was equally empty and untouched.  Jason stepped back into the hallway.  He didn’t make it to Dick’s room before freezing again.  Dick’s gun lay on the ground, blood on the butt and shell casings scattered around it. 

The wave of terror broke through.  Jason wasn’t sure he was still pulling air into his lungs. 

Dick, who refused to kill… Dick, who drove Amy, the BPD commissioner, crazy because he was slow to draw his gun while on duty in the field… Dick… had not only pulled out his gun, but had emptied an entire clip.

He forced himself to keep moving. 

The door to Dick’s bedroom was hanging on by one hinge.  More shell casings covered the floor, at least two clips worth.  The drawer of the bedside table was on the floor along with its contents.  The secret compartment within the table was still hanging open. 

The sheets and blankets from the bed were twisted on the floor.  The mattress and pillows were shredded.  The smashed pieces of the bedside lamp lay on top of the bed.  Bullet holes filled both the side of the bed and the back wall.  Blood splatter covered both surfaces. 

Jason pulled off his helmet.  Everyone had already turned in.  No one was on comms.  He needed to call in backup.  The ringing was too loud in the empty room.  The call went to voice mail.  Jason hit redial before the message finished. 

“I just fell asleep,” Barbara snapped into the phone.  “You better have…”

“Dick is missing,” Jason said cutting her off.

“What!?” Barbara exclaimed all traces of irritation gone from her voice.

“Dick was taken,” Jason said. 

“I’m getting online now,” Barbara hesitated.  “Jason, are you sure?”

“I’m at his apartment right now,” Jason growled.  “A tornado would have done less damage than what I’m standing in.  I’ll be on comms.  Somebody took him.”

“Waking everyone now,” Barbara said.  “He checked in.  It’s only been a few hours at most.  We will find him.”

Jason hung up without responding because a few hours were still too long and finding Dick wasn’t a question.

Scanning the room again, Jason pulled on his anger, allowing the fury to drown out the terror.  His gaze was once again pulled to the shell casings. 

In the past two years of reconnecting, Jason had discovered that there were a lot of things he didn’t know about his older brother, one of those things being Dick’s skill with guns. 

A few months back Jason had teasingly suggested that he and Dick could shoot together for brotherly bonding.  To Jason’s surprise, Dick had agreed.  That was when Jason found out that Dick could match him in skill when it came to guns.

Dick hadn’t simply emptied three clips.  If he had shot, he had hit what he was shooting at.  The reddish-black blood splatter left no question that he had been shooting at his attackers.

Jason moved slower as he worked his way back through the apartment, his mind tracking the flow of the fight, making note of the smallest details and putting them together to form a full picture. 

The bedroom window was open, the first entry point.  The attacker had caught Dick in bed and they had wrestled.  Dick had used the bedside lamp as a weapon before going to the floor still tangled in the sheets and blankets. 

He had pulled out the drawer to get his gun from the hidden compartment, emptying it into the attacker when they followed him off the bed.  A second attacker had come through the window and Dick emptied another clip into them. 

Dick had taken a third clip with him when he and an attacker smashed through his door.  That clip had been emptied in the hall before Dick used the gun as a bludgeon.  The fight moved into the living room where more attackers broke through the windows, causing the path of the fight to become confused. 

Dick had fought his attackers with lethal force. 

The list of people who could survive a fight with Nightwing… A Nightwing who was willing to kill… was small.   The list of people who could win that fight didn’t exist. 

There was one consistent exception to Dick’s “no kill” rule.  The one exception that could hold their own against a Nightwing who was willing to kill. That one exception bled black. 

Putting his helmet back on, Jason headed out the window.  The Bat’s were all up, and filling the comm line with demands for information.  Voice harsh, Jason cut through the chatter with the answer to the only question that mattered.  “The Court of Owls took Dick.”

Rage coursing through his veins, Jason ignored the storm that revelation brought.

Two years ago he had gotten his older brother back.  He had no intention of losing him now.

Chapter Text

Fifteen minutes after Jason alerted Barbara, the Bat’s were in full gear.  Tim and Damian zetaed to Bludhaven.  Cass zetaed to the cave from Hong Kong. 

Tim and Damian searched Dick’s apartment.  Bruce and Cass investigated the Court of Owl’s old head courters.  Barbara scoured every camera in both Bludhaven and Gotham.  Jason tore through the streets of Bludhaven. 

Tim confirmed what Jason had already said, what they already all knew.  The Court of Owl’s had taken Dick. 

An hour passed with none of them finding anything.

It had been over three years since the last time they had dealt with the Court.  They hadn’t lost, but they clearly hadn’t won either since the Court was back.  If there were two things the Court of Owls excelled at it was binding their time and disappearing. 

Last time the Court hadn’t gotten what they wanted.  Last time they had returned to the shadows without their prize.  Last time they had retreated to wait. 

This time they had succeeded in stealing their prize.  This time they would disappear, taking Dick with them.  This time they would wait for as long as it took them to break Dick. 

Ironically, it was because of the Court’s attempt last time that Jason had found out Dick was alive and working undercover in Spiral. 

Bruce had had amnesia and Gotham had been falling apart.  The Court had taken advantage of the chaos to look for their Gray Son, pushing things further until Gotham was at war with itself. 

Dick had returned.  He had come back for Jason, Tim, and Damian.  Jason and Tim had followed Dick in the fight, but they had been too blinded by anger about supposed lies to welcome him home. 

Now Jason was angry.  Jason was furious. 

The only other times Jason had felt rage so intense there had been green filling his vision. 

This time there was rage, but there was no green.  The fury was all Jason’s.  The fury had one target and this time it wasn’t Dick.

The Court of Owls had stolen Jason’s brother.

The Court of Owls wanted to break Jason’s brother.

The Court of Owls wanted to turn Jason’s brother into a weapon.

Jason would not let the Court of Owls keep his brother.

Last time Dick had come for them. 

This time they were coming for him.

Last time Jason hadn’t welcomed Dick home.

This time Jason wouldn’t rest until he had brought his brother home.

Jason was done playing nice.

 “Oracle, Red Robin, I know you two were working with Nightwing on tracking down the Court of Owls.”

“I’m already going through our files, Hood,” Oracle sighed.  “There isn’t much there.  Nightwing was suspicious that they were moving again, and clearly, he was right, but we never nailed anything down.”

“You guys were trying to find the people in the Court right?”  Jason asked.

“Yes,” Barbara said.  “But we didn’t…”

Jason cut her off.  “Send me the list.”

“Hood,” Tim snapped.  “There isn’t a list.  We never got anywhere.  All we have are suspects.  We don’t have anything solid.  Do you really think I would be standing in Dick’s apartment doing nothing if we did?!”  Tim was yelling.  “I didn’t find anything.  Dick asked for my help and I didn’t find anything!  He asked for my help and now he’s gone!” 

Jason didn’t say anything when he heard a fist slam into a wall.  At this point, one more hole in Dick’s walls wasn’t going to matter. 

If Dick had been there he would have told Tim it wasn’t his fault.  Dick would have known what to say to encourage and comfort each of them.  Jason wasn’t Dick.  Jason didn’t know what to say, so he focused on what he did know. 

“O, send me the list.”

“Hood, Tim already told you we don’t have anything,” Barbara said.  “I’m going through our suspects now, but there isn’t enough to narrow things down.”

“Don’t bother.  Just send me their names,” Jason said.  “I’ll narrow them down for you.”

“Hood,” Barbara sighed.  “Whatever you’re thinking...  ”

“I’m on my way to Gotham,” Jason said.  “If I don’t have the list by the time I get there I’m just going to start kicking down doors.”

“Okay,” Barbara sighed.  “Just please remember we don’t know if any of these people are involved with the Court or not.  The list is a combination of Nightwing’s suspicions and people with weird bank accounts I haven’t found other explanations for.  There isn’t anything concrete on anyone.”

“Good enough for me,” Jason said.  “Mark the names Nightwing was suspicious of.”

By the time Jason reached his closest safe house he had the list.  He stayed just long enough to switch all of his rubber bullets out for live ammo, and to grab a pair of swords. 

Less than thirty minutes later he slipped into the first target’s house.  Within three minutes the couple was confessing to every crime they had ever committed.  On any other night, Jason would have been interested, but he was interested in only one thing.  They weren’t upstanding citizens, but they also weren’t in the Court.

Jason left the terrified couple with a harsh warning not to mention anything about the night.

The next target didn’t break as fast, but when he did Jason grinned.  It wasn’t anything more than a slip of the tongue, but it was enough for Jason to know.  Jason didn’t bother continuing the questions before knocking the man out.  He wanted somewhere more secluded. 

The first thing the man tried after jerking awake, soaking wet, was to continue denying any knowledge of the Court even though that ship had already sailed.  The denial didn’t last long, giving way to threats instead.  The threats died out in screams.  Finally, when his attempts to buy Jason off failed, he begged.  Between his screams he pleaded, telling Jason what the Court would do to him if he talked. 

Jason’s only response was to remind him that the Red Hood’s hands were not clean of blood and he was fully prepared to drench them again. 

The begging stopped and for a time the only sound was the man’s screams.  The man didn’t have much of a voice left when he finally broke. 

“If you lied to me I’ll be back,” Jason hissed looming over what was left of the man.

With that promise, he turned and left.  The man would probably survive until Jason called an ambulance for him. He would probably live and if he was extremely lucky he might even walk again.  Not that Jason cared.  There were only two reasons Jason hadn’t put a bullet in his brain.  The first, if the man had lied Jason would come back to get the truth and make him regret the lie.  The second, Jason didn’t care if the man died, but Dick would and Jason didn’t want to upset him.

The sun was starting to peak over the horizon as Jason stepped out of the building. 

He tapped his comm.  “I know where the Court of Owls is.”       

Chapter Text

It was over an hour after Jason got the Court’s location before he joined the rest of the Bats at the cave.  There were some plans Jason was willing to build on shaky information, some things he was willing to risk; Dick’s life was not one of those things. 

While the rest of the Bats converged on the cave to create a plan of attack, Jason stayed out to verify his information.  Everyone in Gotham knew that the Bats operated at night.  The thing was that didn’t mean they couldn’t operate during the day, it just meant no one expected them to. 

The sun’s attempt to cut through Gotham’s gloom did not stop Jason from dragging another Court member from their home and two more from work.

By the time he had confirmed the Court’s location and made it back to the cave the plan for getting Dick back was well on its way to completion. 

No one said anything as he passed them and headed for the changing rooms.  Jason didn’t waste any time stripping out of his bloody suit and changing into the extra he kept at the cave.  

The blood didn’t bother him and he was sure to add more before the day was out, but his suit was soaked.  The amount of blood tipped the question from whether he had killed anyone, straight past who had he killed, to how many people had he killed.  While the answer was currently no one, he didn’t want to risk stressing Dick out when they rescued him.  He didn’t want to give Dick a reason to ask him.

Currently, Jason hadn’t killed anyone, but he wasn’t confident that would still be true at the end of the day.  When he had walked through, the others had been discussing ways to handle the talons.  None of them would be holding back, they would all use lethal force when facing a talon, but most forms of lethal force would only slow a talon down. 

Jason picked up his swords and reattached them.  Normally, they weren’t his first choice of weapon, but there was one way to keep a talon from getting back up and swords would work the best. 

The others were trying to come up with ways, besides decapitation, to stop the talons.  Before Dick had been taken he and Bruce had been trying to come up with a way to cure and rehabilitate the talons.  When it came down to it, most if not all of the talons were, themselves, victims of the Court’s ruthlessness. 

The thing was, Jason didn’t care, couldn’t care, who the talons had been or if they could be saved.  He was aware that might make him somewhat of a hypocrite.  The Court wanted to turn Dick into a talon.  If a world ever existed where they succeeded, if Dick ever became a killer for them, Jason wouldn’t settle for anything less than saving Dick.  It wouldn’t matter how many people Dick killed, Jason would never accept killing Dick as an option and he knew he would shoot anyone who thought it was. 

Heading to rejoin the others, Jason hoped they had everything figured out.  He wouldn’t accept anything less than saving Dick.  He wouldn’t hesitate to permanently kill the talons.  It might make him a hypocrite, but Dick was his brother and Jason didn’t care about anything else.

Cass watched as Jason passed on his way to the changing rooms.  She watched as he returned in a suit no longer stained in blood. 

She watched, but she didn’t ask and she was thankful when no one else did either. 

Cass hated killing.  Cain had trained her to kill.  She had killed exactly once. 

She had watched the life drain out of her target and it had been the worst thing she had ever seen.  She had fled from Cain, swearing to herself never again.

Cain had wanted her to be a weapon, she wasn’t supposed to feel anything, but he had made sure she was fluent in the language of the body.  Watching the moment of death had been terrifying and horrific.  Cass had hated it.  Cain had spent years trying to train her, but in that moment she had become sure of one thing, life was precious and death was bad. 

Cass would never condone killing, but as she turned her gaze from Jason she was thankful no one asked how far he went because, for the first time, she wasn’t sure what she would feel. 

Cass hated killing, but with anger, which felt like lava flowing through her veins, she was afraid of what she would feel if Jason had killed the Court members.  She was afraid that the death would not upset her. 

The Court had taken her older brother.  The brother she was only just getting to know.  The brother who had been taking care of her for years in ways she was only just starting to understand.

The Court had stolen her family from her and while she didn’t want to kill them, for the first time, she didn’t want to keep them alive either.

It was a terrifying feeling and she didn’t know what to do with it.  All she knew was she wanted to talk to Dick about it, but he wasn’t there. 

Cass’s gaze moved between her family.  Bruce, Tim, and Barbara were splitting their attention between the computer and papers they had spread out on the desk, Jason had joined Damian in pulling out and readying more weapons.  Dick wasn’t there, but they would bring him home.

They would bring him home and then she could talk to him and try to explain her tangle of emotions and he would understand and help her figure it out.  He wouldn’t send her away if she needed his help, so she would be able to stay near him and make sure he was safe.  He would understand that too, but he wouldn’t call her on it.

Keeping his breathing even, Dick stayed still as his awareness began to filter back in. He was laying on something hard.  He didn’t have to try moving to know that it would hurt.  He felt like he had gone ten rounds with Deathstroke and lost.  Considering, that the last thing he remembered was fighting half-a-dozen talons in his apartment he figured it was an accurate assessment.  He didn’t feel any restraints and as far as he could tell with his eyes closed he was alone. 

He spent a few more minutes listening before opening his eyes.  Darkness was the only thing to meet his gaze.  Blinking, Dick reached up to double-check that there was nothing covering his face.  He sighed when his hand found nothing.  No light then, that was fine.  For the moment he ignored any other possibility for his lack of sight.  He could operate just fine without his vision.  He had other more pressing things to worry about. 

Reaching out, Dick felt for an edge.  Once he was confident he was on the ground and not on a table he began carefully testing his range of movement trying to assess how much damage he had taken.  Deciding that nothing was broken, Dick sat up.  He bit back a groan as the pain flared, his stomach doing summersaults.  Clenching his teeth against the nausea he pushed himself to his feet.  The nausea spiked for a moment more before settling back into an uneasy roll in his stomach. 

Taking a step forward, he let out a huff.  Points to him, he couldn’t see which meant no swimming vision.  Take that Court of Owls, their rudeness in not installing lights for him was already paying off. 

Dick took two more steps before his hand found the wall.  The pain settled into the background, his steps becoming steadier as he mapped out the room. 

It was small and square, ten steps from wall to wall.  The floor and walls were smooth.  The seams between the wall and door were nearly nonexistent. 

Dick leaned his head against the wall.

One day.  It would be a maximum of one day before his family realized he was missing. 

One day, not one week. 

His family would notice this time.  They would come.

He didn’t know how much time had passed and he didn’t know how long it would take them to find him. 

He turned his attention to what he could figure out. 

He didn’t know how long he spent learning the room, but by the time he paused again he knew every inch.

He didn’t know how long he had been sitting in the silence and darkness when the temperature dropped.

Rubbing his arms, Dick began pacing. 

One day. 

His family was coming.

Chapter Text

During the last few hours, Tim had been able to distract himself.  Jason had gotten a location.  A location was all they needed to start planning.

It had only taken Barbara a matter of minutes to pull up the building’s schematics along with its surrounding area.  Tim and Damian had zetaed back to the cave, and everyone else, excluding Jason, joined them soon after. 

Tim had been able to lose himself in planning.

But now the plan was finished, and the roar of his motorcycle was not enough to drown out the thoughts that had been circling through his head since Barbara woke him up with news of Dick’s kidnapping.

Dick had asked Tim for help. 

After Talia, after realizing how wide they had allowed the distances in their family to grow, they had begun to work on bridging the gaps.  They didn’t live lives that allowed for weakness anywhere.  Weakness could and would get them killed.  They had spent so long with the divisions within the family that they had been blind to how much it weakened them. 

Dick had been the trigger, but as they each worked to rebuild their relationships with him, they found their other relationships being affected for the better as well.  As a family, they had worked to make changes both in and out of the suits and had become stronger for it. 

One of the changes they had made to their nightlife had been concerning how they handled their cases.  When it came down to it, none of them were good at asking for help.  

Everyone in the hero community knew that the Bats were territorial, but most assumed it was just toward outsiders in Gotham. After all, there were at least half a dozen of them sharing one city.  As far as the city went the other heroes were mostly correct.  Other than Jason, they didn’t have territories, but that didn’t stop them from being territorial with each other.  They shared the city, but they didn’t share cases.  They might ask for backup on a large bust, but it wasn’t the same as working a full case together, as running down leads, and brainstorming possibilities together. 

For every Robin, proving they could solve cases on their own was just as important as proving they could handle a fight by themselves.  Dropping into someone else’s fight was mostly accepted.  They had all needed to call for back up and even if they didn’t need the help another Bat was always useful in a fight, and they were perfectly capable of arguing while fighting. 

Investigations were a different matter.  Stick your nose into someone else’s case without an invitation and it would probably end up broken, and they wouldn’t talk to you for a week at the minimum. 

As they worked on their communication they had decided that it needed to start applying in both areas of their lives, which included their cases.

They still all had their own cases, but they had started a system where they uploaded all of their active cases so everyone in the family had access.  It had been a rough start.  It had caused more than one argument in the first few months.  It also hadn’t changed all that much while simultaneously changing everything.

They each had too many cases of their own to give a lot of attention to someone else’s.  However, since they knew what everyone else was working on, it became natural to add in random notes when they came across information for someone else’s case.  It also allowed them to recognize overlapping cases faster. 

A year in and there were still some arguments concerning the system, but they could all agree that the pros outweighed the annoyances. 

They weren’t better at asking for help, but they were getting better at accepting it. 

That was what Tim couldn’t get out of his mind.  Over the last year, he and Dick had worked together on multiple cases, both his and Dick’s.  They were all random cases that weren’t a big deal, but Dick started using Tim’s input as an excuse to crash at Tim’s and hang out with him, and Tim in turn had started seeking out Dick’s input for the same reason.  It was progress because they were talking and hanging out, but neither was actually asking the other for help.

The Court of Owls, however, wasn’t just another random case Dick was working on that Tim had added a few notes to.  Dick had come to Tim and asked for his help. 

Now Dick was missing, kidnapped by the Court.

Dick had asked for Tim’s help and Tim had failed. 

Three blocks away from the target location, Tim stopped his bike and moved to the roofs. 

Fifteen minutes later he crouched in position waiting for the signal to move in. 

A second later Damian settled in next to him.  The signal came a moment later.  As one, he and Damian headed for their entry point. 

Tim couldn’t fail again.  The whole plan rested on him getting his part right. 

His failure had allowed Dick’s kidnapping. He couldn’t mess up Dick’s rescue.   

Dick would give him a hug and tell him it wasn’t his fault, and Tim really really wanted him to because Dick might succeed in convincing Tim of it, but Dick could only do that if Tim didn’t fail again.

Damian didn’t like that it was the middle of the afternoon.  He didn’t like that they didn’t have the cover of night. He hadn’t voiced his dislike, and if any of his family had suggested they wait he would have stabbed them. 

He had of course been trained to be invisible no matter the time of day.  That fact did nothing to make him feel less exposed as he and Tim hung from the side of a building in broad daylight.  Barbara had done her best to pinpoint the best places to slip in unnoticed, but they were dealing with the Court of Owls.  Getting to the entry points and getting through them were not the same thing.  They had planned on the delay, which is why no one was to enter the building until everyone had confirmed that they had access.  After that, they would switch to radio silence until their presence was discovered.

Scanning their surroundings, Damian refrained from hissing at Tim to hurry up. 

Once they made it inside the sun being up wouldn’t matter since all the windows had been sealed.  Attacking during the day even made sense from a tactical point of view.  Talons operated at night, and even if the Bats preferred the night they were all on teams that mostly operated during the day making it an extremely loose preference.  Also, everyone in Gotham knew the Bats came out at night.  If the Court suspected an attack from them they would expect it to come at night. 

None of those reasons made it feel any less wrong to Damian.  The only thing that would have felt more wrong was waiting. 

None of those reasons had mattered when the decision had been made.  The only thing that mattered was saving Dick. 

Damian tensed in anticipation as clicks began filling the line overlapping Tim’s own signal that they were ready.  A split second later Batman gave the signal to enter. 

The halls were dark and silent.  Even at a full sprint, their footsteps did not disrupt the stillness.  The glow from Tim’s wrist computer, however, felt like a homing beacon for all their enemies to see.  It was unavoidable. With everything else, there hadn’t been time to memorize the whole layout, and unlike the others, Tim and Damian had a planned destination.   

It was just another thing Damian didn’t like.

Damian twisted, bringing his sword up before he even fully registered the threat.  He didn’t glance to where Tim had landed, his gaze locking onto the talon emerging from the shadows.  

Damian moved, going low as Tim went high.  Slipping around the strikes, the talon pushed forward.  Tim gave ground drawing the talon further down the hall and using his staff to keep a distance between himself and the talons knives.  Damian moved in the opposite direction. 

Turning, the talon lashed out at Damian, but his attack was interrupted by Tim lunging forward.  The crack of Tim’s bow staff connecting with the talon’s palm left no question about broken bones in the talon’s hand, but all he did was clamp down on the staff and use it to jerk Tim forward.  Releasing his staff, Tim leaped away from the knife. 

The talon moved to follow only for his legs to give out as Damian’s sword pierced his chest from behind.  Moving back to the talon, Tim took out an ice pellet and dropped it.  Damian didn’t remove his sword until a second before the ice would have frozen it too.

They didn’t wait any longer.  The ice would do its job or it wouldn’t, but they didn’t have the time to wait and see. They didn’t run into more talons, but if their comms coming alive was any indication, it was because the talons were aware of the other bats’ presence and were converging on them. 

Tim threw open the door to their destination, Damian only a step behind.  Scanning the room, Damian closed the door.  Once he confirmed there were no talons, he began barricading the door.  By the time Damian finished securing the room, Tim had turned off the heat and was elbow deep in the cooling and ventilation systems. Turning his back on Tim, Damian settled in to watch the door.

This was another part of the plan Damian didn’t like.  The others were looking for Dick.  Everything in Damian demanded that he look too.  Dick wasn’t just his older brother, he was his dad and Damian needed him. 

Damian hated this part of the plan, but he understood it.  Tim was attempting to use Freeze’s technology to force frigid air through the vents.  Freeze had on more than one occasion buried parts of Gotham under snow in the middle of August and they were hoping to do the same here or at least drop the temperature enough to slow down the talons.  The problem was Tim couldn’t both do that and watch his back for talons, which meant someone else had to cover him. 

Damian hated that he was the one given the job, but again he understood why.  While the others were looking for Dick, they were also serving as a distraction for the talons.  Damian had fought talons before, but when it came down to it Batman, Red Hood, and Black Bat were more equipped to handle the large scale they were expecting. 

Damian hated his place in the plan, but he had been getting better at accepting that his way wasn’t always the best.

In the League, Damian’s opinions and wants hadn’t mattered, and yet he was supposed to kill to prove them or get them. 

Dick had been the one to teach him that his opinions and what he wanted mattered, but also that his opinions weren’t always right and he wouldn’t and shouldn’t always get what he wanted. 

Damian didn’t like being stuck in a room on the sidelines, he didn’t like the plan, but it was the best one.  If there was one person he would lay aside his desires for it was Dick. 

Deathstroke had once, after a fight, admitted that if Batman were willing to kill, he would be dead.  Batman’s fighting was precise, it was controlled, it was dangerous, but it wasn’t deadly.  Batman didn’t kill.  The occasions where Batman fought without restraint, still precise, still controlled, but deadly were few and far between. 

Batman didn’t kill.

Batman wasn’t deadly.

But Bruce could be.

It had taken intervention from Superman to keep Joker alive.

Lex had survived only because he had a means to bring Dick back.

Bruce had gone to Apocalypse for Damian. 

Bruce was a father.

Talons had taken his son. 

It was the only reason Bruce needed to not hold back. 

Talons healed. 

Reason enough for Batman to not hold back.

It was a devastating combination.

Twisting the arm until the bone snapped, Bruce pushed forward, driving the talon to the ground.  He released the arm as his knee slammed into the talon’s jaw sending him the rest of the way down.  The talon’s chest caved under Bruce’s foot. 

Bruce slammed his elbow back into a talon behind him before catching ahold of a second one and throwing him over his shoulder.  Bruce turned away as the second talon twisted to land on his feet.  Raising his arm to block a blow from the first talon, Bruce struck out with his foot at the same time slipping a batarang into his hand.  The talon avoided the kick, but did not avoid the batarang driving into his neck.  Bruce spun taking the talon with him, using him as a shield from the knives thrown by the other talon.  Flinging him into the talon on the ground that was trying to get up, Bruce dropped an ice pellet and moved to close the distance between himself and the one still standing. 

Bruce had barely finished with the last talon before more were flooding the hall to replace the three he had dropped.  Backing up, he threw several explosive batarangs.  The explosions slowed a few, but it was only a matter of seconds before the rest were on him and the explosives were no longer an option.

The first indication for Bruce that Tim was succeeding was the talon’s slowing down.  The fighting combined with his thermal suit prevented him from feeling the chill.  The talon’s sluggishness increased rapidly, a sign that the temperature was still dropping. 

Bruce didn’t bother with an ice pellet as he slammed the last talon’s head into the wall.  The cold was keeping them from getting back up once knocked unconscious, and he didn’t have any time to waste.  With the relief of the fight winding down, came an urgency to keep moving. 

Dick hadn’t been too worried when he first noticed the temperature dropping, but then it kept going down.  He didn’t get it.  Talons didn’t do well in the cold.  Obviously, the Court could just mess with his cell, but the cold would affect any talon that entered it, giving Dick an edge. 

Then again it wouldn’t matter if they weren’t planning on sending a talon in anytime soon.  Pushing himself up, Dick had to admit that they wouldn’t have to wait that long.  The cold was already starting to seep into his bones.  Talons might be affected faster, but at least they couldn’t get hypothermia. 

Pacing, Dick reached up and felt his chin.   There was light stubble, but not much more than he would have shaved off before going into work.  Sighing, Dick rubbed his arms a few times before tucking his hands underneath his arms.  He couldn’t be a hundred percent sure about the length of time, but not more than a day had passed.  His family might not even know he was missing yet and even if they did it was too early to expect a rescue. 

The Court was good at disappearing and it would take time even after his family figured out where he was.  It was the Court of Owls. They couldn’t just storm in.  It would take at least a day of planning if not more.

A week.

A week at minimum before he could start expecting a rescue. 

But it was okay because they were looking.

They would come.

He refused to listen to the whispers that said otherwise.

His family would come.  They just needed some time.

He could give them time.

He would be okay.

He would be here and he would be okay because they were going to need him. 

They were going to need him to reassure them because they would be worried because they did care… had been working so hard to prove just how much.

He had to be okay.

Dick blinked.  He was tired.  The cold had helped to wake him up at first, but the alertness was starting to fade, and his mind was starting to feel sluggish.  He was really cold.  The pacing wasn’t doing enough.  He just wanted to curl up in the corner.  He was exhausted.  The darkness and silence weren’t helping. 

The room was cold, dark, and silent, but then came a noise and a crack of light. 

Facing the door, Dick dropped into a shaky fighting stance.  Distantly he was aware it was a good thing he hadn’t stopped shivering yet, but the tremors were annoying. 

The door swung open fully.  “Dick?”

Dick was lunging forward before his eyes had a chance to adjust.  He didn’t need his vision to recognize his dad.

The Batman armor was hard under his face and Dick had the brief thought that the collision should have been more painful.  Apparently, the cold was good for something.

Batman’s arms wrapped around him for a brief moment and then they were moving his hands trying to pull Dick away. 

Nope, absolutely not.  Shacking, his head, Dick clung to the armor.  He was cold and he decided that even if the cold was good for something he didn’t like it anymore. 

“Dick,” Bruce said.  “I need to see how injured you are.”

“I’m fine,” Dick said refusing to be moved.  “I was mostly just sore, I think.”

“You think,” Bruce’s tone was not impressed, but he did stop trying to force Dick back.  “What do you mean was?”

“I was sore, now I’m numb,” Dick said taking the risk to release one hand so he could pull Bruce’s cape around himself.  “Not totally numb I can still mostly feel, well I can’t feel my feet, but otherwise I can feel.”

Dick didn’t have a chance to complain about Bruce’s hold shifting before he was being lifted into his arms.  

“I can walk,” Dick said tucking his face into Bruce’s neck.

Bruce didn’t bother answering that. He simply tucked his cape more firmly around Dick, which was fine because Dick could walk, but he could also go to sleep.  Yeah, sleep sounded nice. 

The next thing Dick registered was being lowered into the Batmobile still wrapped in Batman’s cape.  There were voices, but Dick didn’t think they were talking to him, which was good because his brain wasn’t working.  His eyes were fluttering shut again when he caught a flash of color.  

Untangling his hand from the cape, Dick reached out until his hand fisted into the brightly colored fabric.  Dick pulled and there was a startled squawk before a weight fell onto him.  He tightened his hold as the weight wiggled. Freeing his other hand he wrapped both arms around it.  It stopped wiggling as he tucked it closer.  It was warm and it was his and now that Dick had it he was going back to sleep.

Chapter Text

“I vote we call the Justice League in to do the clean up,” Jason said not taking his eyes off Dick.

“I like that idea,” Tim said.  “The talons we dealt with won’t stay down forever.  The cold isn’t going to last and it’s not like we can leave it for Gordon to handle.  The League should be able to contain them until we have time to figure out what we’re doing.”

“They wouldn’t even need to be in Gotham that long,” Jason said glancing at Bruce.  “They’re great when it comes to clean up.”

“I’ll call them,” Bruce said. 

The conversation ended there.  All of them watching Alfred check over Dick.  Neither Jason nor Tim commented on how easily Bruce had agreed or on the pause before he actually went to make the call.  They had Dick back, but that didn’t mean the fear had fully left yet.

None of them were ready to let Dick out of their sight.

If not for Alfred they would probably all still be in their suits.  He had made them get changed and then had kicked them out of the immediate vicinity when they all came back and crowded too close.  Well, everyone except for Damian.  Jason didn’t think he was getting out of Dick’s hold anytime soon. 

If Dick had been fully aware it wouldn’t have been a problem, but a Dick who was even slightly out of it and wanted to cuddle could not be reasoned with once he had latched onto someone.  It was a fight that not even Alfred could win. 

So, as much as Jason didn’t like the banishment, he did understand it.  Alfred didn’t need him, Bruce, Tim, and Cass, looking over his shoulder, while performing the complicated task of examining a patient who was clinging to a whole other person. 

All things considered, it wasn’t long before Alfred was stepping back and nodding for them to come over.  It still felt like an eternity had passed for Jason.  From the moment Dick hadn’t answered Jason’s call, time hadn’t moved right.  It had been less than twenty-four hours and yet it felt like a week had passed.  They had gotten Dick back, but time still felt like it was moving too slowly.

Bruce, back from his call, was the first to make it to the cot.  Jason, Tim, and Cass only a step behind.   Their focus split between Dick and Alfred waiting to hear his pronouncement. 

“He has a minor concussion, along with extensive, severe bruising and a number of superficial cuts,” Alfred said gathering up the supplies.  “He only needed a dozen stitches, but we should do X-rays to make sure there are no fractures in his arms.  The bruising is incredibly deep.”

“I’m fine Alfi,” Dick said tightening his hold on Damian.

Alfred frowned clearly coming to the same conclusion that Jason had earlier.  There would be no prying Dick away from Damian, which meant no X-rays tonight.

Dick buried his face into the back of Damian’s neck.  “Just cold.”

Bruce stepped closer running a hand through Dick’s hair.  Without looking up, Dick tipped into his side.

“Your temperature is back to normal,” Alfred paused before sighing.  “Master Damian you need to change and then all of you need to come upstairs and eat something.  After that Master Richard needs rest.”

Alfred made eye contact with everyone but Dick, whose eyes were closed, leaving silent orders for them to figure out how to make his instructions happen.

Jason scanned the situation with a practiced eye and came to the only conclusion available to free Damian.  Sometimes sacrifices had to be made.  There was only one possible way to get Dick to release his hold once he had latched on to someone, give him a new victim. 

“Hey Dick, catch,” Jason said planting his hand on Tim’s back and shoving. 

Tim let out an outraged squawk as he lost his balance and tipped forward.

Dick might have been concussed and half asleep, but that didn’t stop his big brother reflexes and octopus tendencies.  One hand released its hold on Damian to reach out and steady Tim before latching on and pulling him in. 

Damian used the momentary distraction and loosening of the hold to twist away.  Jason tried not to laugh at the sound of distress Dick made at losing his teddy bear, or at the glare Tim shot his way as Dick wrapped his second arm around Tim in a hold that was too tight to be comfortable if Tim’s grimace was anything to go by. 

 “I will return shortly,” Damian said pausing at Dick’s distress, before hurrying to the changing rooms. 

Dick’s eyes followed Damian and a whine left his throat the moment he disappeared from view.  Dick tightened his hold more.  He clearly had no intention of losing his newest victim. 

“Dick,” Tim huffed, “I need to breathe.”

It took a second, but Dick did loosen his hold slightly.  His gaze jumped between Jason, Bruce, and Cass.  “I’m cold.”

“Alfred just said that your temperature was back to normal,” Jason said, but he stepped in closer. 

Cass slipped onto the cot and leaned against his back.

Dick looked down at his arms a new look of distress coming over his face. 

Jason grinned as he watched his brother’s internal struggle.  Latching onto Jason or Cass would require him to release Tim with one hand, which after Damian’s escape he clearly didn’t want to do.  To make things funnier to Jason he could see the count in Dick’s head as he glanced between them and his arms.  Three little siblings within cuddle range, but only two arms.  So, even if he took the risk of losing Tim he still couldn’t get all of them. 

After a moment Dick tipped his head back into Cass and latched onto Jason with his far hand so his arm was still around Tim, keeping him trapped. 

Damian kept his word and was back in less than three minutes.  Jason knew the moment Dick saw him.  He felt Dick’s hand spasm, his desire to reach for Damian at war with his refusal to release Jason or Tim. 

Jason didn’t give him a chance to decide what to do.  “Okay, Damian’s back, which means it’s time to get you upstairs.”

Taking a step back, he pushed Damian towards the stairs, away from Dick.

Dick didn’t need any encouragement to follow, his eyes on Damian and hand still firmly gripping Jason’s shirt. 

“Hey!”  Tim yelped trying to find his feet as Dick dragged him along. 

Jason trusted Alfred, but he was a little worried that Dick’s concussion might not be so minor.  He was doing very little talking and a lot of clinging.  Dick’s balance was steady and unaffected by Tim’s struggle.  Not that that meant anything.  When he had been Robin he had witnessed a concussed Dick do a double flip that led into a series of backhandsprings the landings of which he all stuck perfectly.

Jason had thought it was awesome.  Bruce and Alfred had not been impressed, but based on their resignation Jason had figured it wasn’t the first time.  It certainly wasn’t the last time.  When it came to Dick, balance was not a good indicator. 

Jason pushed the worry away for the time being.  It wasn’t like they were going to be leaving Dick on his own anytime soon.

Once they made it to Bruce’s room, Dick took the lead dragging Tim onto the bed with him.  Jason allowed himself to be pulled in behind settling against Dick’s side.  Bruce walked around the bed and climbed in.  Twisting, Dick moved so he was lying more on Bruce than the bed with Tim on top. 

Jason watched with a smile as Dick glanced between Jason, Tim, Damian, and Cass clearly starting to run the calculations again. 

Damian didn’t wait for him to finish.         

“Hey, Ow!  Damian, watch it!”  Tim glared as Damian wedged himself between Tim and Dick.

“Move,” Damian said elbowing Tim again.

“I can’t!” Tim said.  “Dick won’t let me.”

“Boys.”  Bruce sighed.

They grumbled for a few more seconds.

Cass waited for the wiggling to stop before draping herself over Jason’s chest, so her legs crossed over Dick.

“Well, I see you managed to get everyone changed and Master Richard up here,” Alfred said stepping into the room with a tray.

Setting the tray down, Alfred began passing out the plates.  The problem came when he tried to hand one to Dick. 

Jason sighed even though they had all seen it coming. 

Dick pouted at him and predictably did not release his hold to take the offered plate.

“Richard, we are not going anywhere,” Damian said.  “You need to eat.”

“Eat,” Cass said taking the plate from Alfred and pushing it toward Dick.

Dick glanced at Jason.

“I’m not going to leave if you let go,” Jason said, and then to make his point he gestured at Cass.  “I’m a little pinned at the moment, so eat.”

Dick still hesitated, but after another moment he did release his hold on Jason. 

Cass continued to steady the plate since Dick’s other arm was trapped under Damian and Tim and really asking for him to let go with both would be pushing it anyway.

Alfred settled into the chair in the room, only rising to help them move empty dishes back to the tray. 

Dick drifted off to sleep quickly after that, his hand once again attached to Jason’s shirt. 

As sleep began to pull at them, Jason glanced over everyone before closing his own eyes and giving in to the tug.

They had gotten Dick back. 

His family was safe.

Chapter Text

The screeching started the next afternoon at lunch.

“Chill out,” Jason said.  “It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal!”  Dick yelled.  “You guys didn’t even have a plan!”

“We had a plan,” Tim said.

Dick shook his head.  “Your plan was theoretical!”

Tim shrugged.  “Yes, but it worked.”

“What if it hadn’t worked?!”  Dick asked throwing his arms into the air.

“Well,” Jason shrugged, “Then we would have switched to plan B.  Don’t worry.  I brought a duffle bag just in case.  Now, can you pass me the potatoes?”

“Jason!!!!” Dick hissed.  “That is not funny.”

Jason frowned.  “It wasn’t meant to be funny.  I actually do want the potatoes.”

Dick glared at him.

Reaching his hand out, Jason raised his eyebrows.

Grabbing the potatoes, Cass leaned over Dick and passed them to Jason.

“Thanks, Cass,” Jason said, breaking his staring contest with Dick and grinning at her.

With a huff, Dick turned to Bruce.  “What do you have to say about this?”

“Stop being ridiculous Richard,” Damian said.  “We weren’t going to just leave you.”

“I’m not saying you should have,” Dick said.  “I’m saying you should have taken more than four hours to plan an attack against The Court of Owls.”

“It was closer to eight,” Tim said.  “That’s double.”

Dick turned his glare on Tim.  “Whoa, a full eight hours?  That makes me feel so much better.  Thanks.”

“I don’t see what the problem is,” Jason said grinning.  “What happened to your whole older, wiser brother thing? You wouldn’t have waited any longer if the situation was reversed.  We were just following your example.  Stop being a hypocrite.”

“Hey, older, wiser brother doesn’t mean perfect!” Dick said.  “There are areas that you shouldn’t follow my example in.”

Jason rolled his eyes.  “Obviously.  You’ll notice I haven’t followed your choices in fashion.”

Ignoring Jason’s comeback, Dick returned his focus to Bruce.  “I’ve heard you chew out the Justice League for plans like this.  I’ve lost count of the number of lectures I’ve heard from you about being properly prepared before going into a fight.”

Jason huffed.  “We’ve all gone into more dangerous situations with less.”

“Yes, but that’s for time-sensitive things,” Dick said.  “Times when we don’t have another choice.”

Damian glared.  “You were kidnapped.”

“Last I checked,” Tim said.  “Kidnappings normally fall into the time-sensitive group.”

Dick pointed at Tim.  “Normally is the keyword there,” His gaze swept the table.  “But in this case, you all knew I had been taken by the Court of Owls, which means that you knew how dangerous going after them would be.  More importantly, you knew, know that they want, need me alive.  You knew you had time.  You could have at least done a test run on a different building to make sure you could actually drop the temperature fast enough.”

“How do you know we didn’t test it?”  Jason asked.

Dick shrugged.  “Because Tim would have argued the plan not being theoretical if you had.”

“Bruce, you don’t do theoretical unless there really isn’t time for anything else,” Dick rubbed his eyes.  “So, can you please explain how this happened?”

Bruce’s lips twitched.  “Well, my oldest son is the one who is normally best at keeping me from doing stupid things, and he was missing.” 

“And that includes you letting them do stupid things?”  Dick asked waving his hand at his siblings.

“They’re your siblings,” Bruce said.  “Tell me, how exactly was I supposed to stop them?”

“I guess we probably should have taken the time to test run how we were trying to use Freeze’s technology,” Tim said.

“But hey,” Jason said shrugging.  “It could have been worse.  Anyway don’t we have more important things to worry about than a plan that worked?  Like I don’t know, finding the rest of the Court, so we can cut them out at the root and then burn them to the ground and maybe blow them up for good measure?”

Sighing, Dick rubbed his face.  “You’re right, but this isn’t over.  We are going to go over the plan and then I’ll be making contingency plans for any possible scenario where I disappear so you don’t go and use another half-baked plan.”

“What about contingencies where one of us disappears so you don’t use a half-baked plan?” Jason asked raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, I already have those,” Dick said with a wave of his hand.  “I’ve had those for years.  I just keep updating them.”

“Of course you do,” Jason said rolling his eyes to cover the guilt at the unwanted reminder that until a little over a year ago Dick hadn’t thought they would care if he disappeared. 

That Dick did have contingencies concerning his own disappearance. 

Contingencies that all revolved around making sure the family was safe from their enemies. 

Enemies, Dick had been and certainly still was monitoring.  Dick didn’t have contingencies for his own rescue or protection because he hadn’t thought his family would care. 

He had contingencies for their protection. 

Jason was realizing that the few hundred he had seen, all focused on the League of Assassins, had just been the tip of the iceburg.  No matter how far apart they had drifted and no matter what Dick had believed about his own value to his family, Dick had never stopped caring about them. 

They had come a long way in fixing their mistakes, but it still bothered Jason that Dick was only now deciding to work on contingencies for his own safety.  When it came down to it Dick still wasn’t making them for his own safety, but for theirs. 

Not that Jason would try to convince Dick to take care of himself.  Dick already had enough on his plate.  He already had enough people he was trying to take care of.  No, Jason would start working on his own contingencies.  Jason made eye contact with Damian, Tim, and Cass.  Dick spent all his time taking care of them and everyone else, which meant as his younger siblings, as his family, it was their job, not Dick’s, to take care of Dick.

“So, how are we tracking down the rest of the Court?” Jason asked.  “I mean, what I was doing worked, but it is a little slow.”

“You mean going door to door and threatening everyone,” Barbara said.  “Yeah, slow isn’t the only problem with that.  My dad would be supper unhappy if that stayed our plan.”

 Alfred cleared his throat.  “I think this can wait until we are finished with our meal.”

The conversation shifted into non-Bat related topics as if Alfred’s rule had never been broken, as if Dick hadn’t gotten away with lecturing all of them about a mission at the dinner table. 

None of them were about to point out that Alfred had only reminded them of the rule after Dick was finished.  There were some battles that weren’t worth fighting and no one could win even if you were as awesome as Alfred. 

Chapter Text

Before Tim could follow the rest of the family through the clock, Dick’s arm wrapped around his shoulder.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Dick whispered into his ear.

Shaking his head, Tim looked at Dick.  “I should have given more time to tracking the Court.  I missed everything.”

“We all missed it,” Dick said shrugging.  “That’s not on you.  We all had other cases.  I didn’t bring the Court’s potential movements to you to push those to the back burner.  Those other cases were important.  There were people who needed you and you helped them.”

“What about you?” Tim asked.  “You asked for my help.”

“You were helping me,” Dick said.  “I didn’t ask you to drop the people who needed Red Robin to be around to rescue them.”

“What about the people who need Nightwing?”  Tim asked.  “You save people too.  What happens to them if Nightwing isn’t around because I messed up?”

Pulling Tim backward, Dick wrapped his free arm around Tim and rocked forward onto the balls of his feet so he could rest his chin on Tim’s head.  “You can’t do everything, Tim.  You can’t save everyone and that’s not your fault, but the cases you did solve, the people you did save, do save, those are on you, those you get to claim.”

“You’re my brother,” Tim said raising his hand to grip Dick’s arm.  “We knew the Court wanted you before.”

“I can take care of myself,” Dick said.

Tim raised his eyebrows even though Dick couldn’t see his expression.  “You’re telling me that now?  Right after breaking your x amount of days not being kidnapped streak?  Right after we had to rescue you?”

“See, I had a streak to break,” Dick said.  “Proof that I can take care of myself.”

“No,” Tim shook his head.  “You having a streak means there’s something to keep track of, which is just proof of how often you get kidnapped.

“Shhh,” Dick said putting his hand over Tim’s mouth.  “No more talking.”

Tim did what any self-respecting little brother would; he licked Dick’s hand.

Dick was unsurprisingly unfazed.  They had all been covered in things much worse than little brother saliva more than once. 

Tim was contemplating an attempt to bite the offending appendage when the sound of a throat being cleared drew his attention.  The amount of judgment in that simple sound left no doubt in Tim’s mind about who it was even before he met Damian’s eyes. 

“Are you two coming?” 

“Yep,” Dick grinned ruffling Tim’s hair as he released him.

Tim sent Dick a glare letting him know that he was fully aware that he had just wiped his hand off in Tim’s hair.  Not that Tim had room to do more than glare since he had been the one to lick Dick’s hand, but it was the principal.  It didn’t matter who started it, just who finished it. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Dick said stepping around Tim to follow Damian and join the others.  “Now let’s go finish what the Court decided to start.”

Tim nodded.  “Okay.”

The conversation wasn’t over.  Tim’s agreement was to end the Court of Owls, not to release his own blame and they both knew it.  Dick would bring it up again.

Tim decided to make sure he had a recorder handy during his next conversation with Dick.  It would be really convenient to turn Dick’s own words back on him whenever he decided to blame himself for something stupid or out of his control.  Not that Tim was admitting to doing that himself, only that Dick thought he was.

Tim’s plans were derailed as he entered the cave. 

Something was wrong. 

Tension was to be expected.  They were dealing with the Court of Owls after all and needed a plan.  However Bruce was already at the Batcomputer, Barbara next to him on her own systems.  Jason stood behind them his jaw clenched as his eyes jumped between the different screens.  Cass set unmoving on the desk her back to the activity her face blank.  In the few hours they had spent sleeping and eating something had changed.

“What happened?”  Dick asked as he rushed over, Damian and Tim a step behind.

“The four court members I tracked down and interrogated,” Jason said turning from the computer screen to look at them.  “They’re all dead.  Their throats were slit a few hours after arriving at the hospital.  Gordon had officers guarding them.  No one saw or heard anything.” 

“Talons,” Dick said.  “The Court is cleaning up.”

“They’re doing more than that,” Barbara said as she flipped between several screens.  “They’re disappearing again.”

“When you say disappearing what exactly do you mean?” Tim asked.  “They’ve barely come out of the shadows this time as is.  The only members we know are the ones Jason found, which is somewhat moot now since they’re dead.”

“I set my systems to keep monitoring the people on our list of potential court members and flag any unusual activity,” Barbara said.  “Since Dick’s rescue multiple people on that list have taken random unplanned trips, all of which followed large transfers of money.  I widened my search past the names on the list.  That search isn’t finished, but I’ve already gotten several more hits.”

“But this means we now know their names,” Damian said. 

“Yes, but they’ve actually disappeared,” Barbara sighed. 

“Jason spooked them,” Tim said.  “Up until now the fights have been left to the talons, but Jason took the fight to them.  They’ve always hidden in plain sight, but Jason proved that he didn’t need their names.”

Dick nodded.  “They’ve exchanged their names for distance.  They’re running.”

“Which, replaces our old problem of learning their names with the new problem of figuring out where they’re running to,” Barbara said.

“They’re not done,” Dick said.  “They’ll regroup and then send the talons again.”

“What about the talons we already took down?”  Damian asked.

“The Justice League has them contained,” Bruce said.

“Based on our other confrontations they still have a lot of talons left,” Jason said running a hand threw his hair.  “

“Split the list.  Tracking the Court down is priority,” Bruce said.  “We’re not waiting for them to regroup.”

Chapter Text

It was late when Cass and Damian rejoined Dick and Barbara at the cave.  Cass was frustrated.  They had spent all day going through the Court’s homes and businesses and had nothing to show for it.  They had been too late to stop any of the members from leaving the country. 

The lack of evidence left behind indicated that while the trips may have technically been unplanned, the disappearances had been anything but. The Court’s contingencies were successfully keeping her family several steps behind and she was getting tired of it.  They had been dealing with the Court for years and while the Court had never won they had also yet to truly lose. 

It was a stalemate that could not last forever.  There were only two ways for it to end.  Either the Bats would rip the Court out at their roots and destroy them permanently or the Court of Owls would get what they wanted and turn Dick into their ultimate weapon.  The latter was not an outcome she would accept. 

The problem was Cass was beginning to question how far they would have to go to win, what lines they would have to cross to make sure the Court stayed dead.  What frightened her was that she wasn’t sure she cared about the answer.  There was an anger growing in her.  A fury like fire, eating at her control, burning out any desire to withhold the complete and total destruction she was still capable of. 

The first time Cass had killed it had terrified her.  As she had watched the life drain away, she had felt something in her die.  In that moment Cass understood where someone like Cain came from because when you took a life something was stolen from you as well.  When you killed something died in you.  The path Cain wished for her was one of death for both those around her and herself.  It was not a path she wanted.  She had run, swearing that she would never kill again.

She didn’t care what happened to the Court members as long as they were gone forever.  The thought, however, that she might cross the line she had sworn never to cross again, that she might become the weapon Cain had wanted, was horrifying.

The thought of losing Dick, of losing her older brother, was worse.  Cass was tired of people trying to steal her family from her.  Today it was Dick, just like it had been a year ago and a year before that.  Just like it had been Bruce, Tim, and Damian before. Just like it would be in the future. 

Cass wanted to talk to Dick about it.  He would understand in a way the others wouldn’t.  She wouldn’t need as many words to try and explain the mix of emotions.

Dick understood emotions.  He understood controlling the rage that demanded blood.  He understood the need to not kill.  He understood the toll of death on all those involved.  Dick had stood against Talia and promised her death if she didn’t leave Damian alone.  He understood that there was a balance. 

Cass was still trying to figure it out.  Cass hated killing.  Even when justified it was destructive to the one doing it.  She wanted her older brother to help her figure it out, but now wasn’t the time.  Cass was afraid there wouldn’t be time before she was forced to make a decision. 

Following Damian to the computers, Cass tried to bury those thoughts.  She didn’t have time for the fear or the anger.  She didn’t have time to figure it out. 

Barbara barely glanced up from her work as they approached.  Pausing, Dick turned to them.  His eyes scanned over Damian making sure he was okay, before moving to her.  The next second he was standing up and Cass knew that she hadn’t buried her fears deep enough.

Dick reached them in a few strides.  His hand ghosted through Damian’s hair before settling on his back, silently encouraging him to continue to the computer and join Barbara. 

Damian glanced between them, but went without argument.

Wrapping his arms around her, Dick drew her into a hug.  “It’s going to be okay.”

Dick was the one in danger.  He was the one the Court was after.  She should have been reassuring him, yet he was reassuring her.  One of the others might have fought it, but Cass didn’t.  She didn’t have any words.  She didn’t have any promises.  She was supposed to be unshakable, but she was angry and afraid.  She didn’t know that it would be okay.  Instead of saying anything, Cass tucked her head against his chest and let him hold her. 

Until finding her family, touch had never meant anything but pain to Cass.  After finding her family she had learned that touch didn’t have to be painful, that it could be good.  It had been small things at first.  It had been careful and gentle hands when patching up an injury.  It had been brushing shoulders after patrol.  It had been spars that weren’t for training, that weren’t about winning or losing, but just about having fun.  It had been a new world to Cass.  It had been overwhelming and beautiful and Cass would have been satisfied if it had ended there.

Most of the Batfamily had issues with touch.  It was a world that they only knew slightly better than she did.  It was a world that they also would have been okay staying on the edges of, where contact was brief, a confirmation that someone was still alive. 

Then there was Dick.  He wasn’t okay with leaving it there.  Dick had grown up in a mix of cultures.  Cultures where touch was good, important, and safe.  His personal mission seemed to be to give back to his family something that none of them fully understood.  Something that had not just been stolen, but twisted against them. 

Dick teaching her the trapeze had been the first step away from the edge.  It was like dancing with someone, but it was more than that.  The trapeze had been frightening for the trust it required.

If the person brushing your shoulder decided to stab you, if your dance partner decided to kill you, you could fight back.  You couldn’t fight back on the trapeze.  If your partner decided not to catch you, you would fall. 

Dick never failed to catch her.  He never dropped her.  He never let her fall. 

Cass had come to love the trapeze.

There had been a time when Cass could not have imagined touch being safe, but there was a difference between touch being safe and touch making you feel safe.

Even now Cass wasn’t a fan of hugs.  They felt confining to her, but being wrapped in her older brother’s arms didn’t feel restrictive.  It felt safe. 

Dick was one of the most dangerous fighters on the planet.  He lived in the shadows with the rest of the family.  Yet, Dick was gentle.  He had a light that refused to go out.  He still trusted.  Dick was the net for their family.  He was the one always reaching out to catch everyone else. 

Dick wasn’t a weapon.

Cass couldn’t promise that it would be okay, but she could promise to give everything to make it okay.  The fear settled with that thought.  Cass would protect Dick.  She would protect her brother.  She would give her life for him. If she had to die, if she had to let more of herself die, if she had to again become a weapon, to prevent Dick from being turned into one, she would. 

“It won’t come to that.  I won’t let it,” Dick promised as if he could read her mind.

Cass hoped Dick was right.  She could not let him become a weapon, but she had no wish to return to being one. Even with her decision made she still wanted Dick to help her sort out her emotions.  The fear was settled, but not gone, the anger and confusion still its companions.  

The moment was broken by the sound of the Batmobile roaring into the cave, followed by Red Hood and Red Robin’s motorcycles.

An actual conversation would have to wait.  Wrong or not Cass had made her decision. 

 “South Rokan,” Dick said reclaiming his seat at the Batcomputer. 

“Are you sure?”  Tim asked stepping up to lean over Dick’s shoulder.

“Sure that they’re going to stay there?  No,” Dick said.  “Sure that that is where they are?  Yes.”

“I’m still trying to track down their money,” Barbara added. 

“Really?” Jason said.  “Could they have picked a smaller country to hide in?  I’m pretty sure it would have taken us longer to search Gotham than it will to search South Rokan.”

“The region is unstable,” Bruce said.  “We will have to keep our presence quiet in South Rokan so as not to antagonize North Rokan.”

“North Rokan would definitely see our presence in South Rokan as a threat if they discovered it,” Dick said grimacing.  “Not that they would have grounds to do anything, but they are definitely a powder keg waiting for an excuse to go off.”

“What if the Court goes into North Rokan?”  Damian asked.

“Unless they have connections they should have a hard time getting permission to enter,” Tim said.  “That being said, if they do and we got caught following, it would cause an international incident and probably trigger a war.  North Rokan is not friendly to anyone associated with the Justice League.”

Jason snorted.  “They’re not friendly to anyone period.  Powder keg is an understatement.” 

“Barbara, find their money,” Bruce said.  “We’re leaving in three hours.”

Chapter Text

The trip to South Rokan had been both too long and too short for Bruce.  Too long, because every moment the Court was free was a moment his son was in danger.  Too short, because he wasn’t prepared, he didn’t have a plan. 

Bruce had contingencies for dealing with the Court, but the Court of Owls stayed in Gotham.  They never left Gotham.  Except now they had and none of Bruce’s contingencies accounted for that. 

His children and members of the Justice League teased him about being paranoid, about having plans for every circumstance.  They might be right about the former, but they were wrong about the rest.  No matter how many contingencies he made, no matter how hard he tried, there would always be something he hadn’t planned for. 

He knew planning for everything was impossible, but that knowledge never made him feel better when it happened.  It didn’t make him feel better about going into unfamiliar territory with his children, especially when one of them was the target.

His resources within South Rokan were limited as Bruce Wayne, they were even more so as Batman.  There had never been a strategic reason for setting anything up in South Rokan.  North Rokan’s hostility toward the Justice League gave reasons to not make a move in the region.  Any sign of a JL member or affiliate was as likely to start a war as dissuade one.

In short, they were attempting to track down one of the most dangerous assassin cults in the world, in unfamiliar territory, with limited resources and the very present risk of their presence starting a war.  They had handled worse threats, in more hostile environments, with fewer resources.  This would not be where they lost. 

Scanning what would be their base, Bruce began making a mental checklist of first steps.  A warehouse wasn’t exactly any of their first choice, for a multitude of reasons, but it was abandoned, out of the way, and big enough to house the Batplane. 

 “We only have a few hours of darkness left.  Oracle, Red Robin, Robin secure the warehouse.  Black Bat and I will patrol to the East and North.  Nightwing and Red Hood take the West and South.  Stay within line of sight.  Do not spilt up.  Regroup at sunrise.”

Jason turning for the door was his only acknowledgment of Bruce’s instructions. 

“Be careful,” Dick said, meeting Bruce’s eyes before turning his gaze on the others making sure they each received the order. 

“You too,” Cass said.

“Always.”  Dick’s grin broke his serious expression as he spun to join Jason at the door.

“Always?” Jason snorted.  “You and careful do not even live on the same planet.”

“Rude,” Dick said shoving Jason with his shoulder.  “I visit careful’s planet.”

Jason’s response was lost as they disappeared into the night.

“That’s why you need someone to keep an eye on you.” Damian grumbled.

“Jason will take care of him,” Tim said.

“That does not make me feel better,” Damian huffed.  “He’s as bad as Dick, if not worse.”

“Fair.”  Tim nodded.  “He might not even be in the same universe.”

Cass silently fell into step with Bruce as he slipped from the warehouse. 

Damian was still grumbling about Dick’s inability to take care of himself.  For once though, he wasn’t fighting staying behind and instead fell into rhythm with Tim as they began examining the warehouse and Barbara moved into the Batplane to set up their computer systems

Bruce wouldn’t ask for more.  The lack of push back from both Jason and Damian was a sign of how worried they were.  There wasn’t time to debate different courses of action and they all knew it.  They had discussed different possibilities on the plane, but with out more information they couldn’t settle on anything.

Bruce hated how little they had.  He hated that he hadn’t been able to stop this sooner.  He hated that his son had gotten hurt, that he was the target.  He hated seeing the stress and worry in his children, seeing their fear. 

Cassandra was afraid of crossing her line.  Tim was afraid of not doing enough.  Jason was afraid of not being there.  Damian was afraid of not being good enough.  They were all afraid of losing Dick. 

Bruce just desperately wanted to send all of his children away.  Put them somewhere where they would be out of reach of anyone who wanted to hurt them.  It was an impossibility.  Even if it wasn’t they would never accept that and he had promised Dick that he would stop pushing him away out of fear.

 “The talons have sighted the Gray Son.  The Bats are with him.  They are waiting for orders.”

“They are to find the Bat’s base before they engage.  They cannot be allowed to have a place to go to ground.  We did not recognize the danger the Bat posed when he first appeared and made the mistake of allowing him time to get settled.  We will not make that mistake again.  We have spent three years preparing for this.  The Bats are now in our home.  We will destroy them here.” The Grandmaster turned to face the one who had brought the message.  “It is time we reclaim both our Gray Son and Gotham.”

Chapter Text

Dick groggily blinked his eyes open.  He blinked again.  Nothing changed.  Complete darkness.  He let his eyes slip closed again.  He knew he needed to move, but he was exhausted.  His limbs felt heavy.  His brain was foggy. 

Drugged. 

It was more instinct and training than an actual thought, but it was enough. 

He had been drugged.  The thought solidified in his otherwise hazy brain, his instincts screaming that it was bad. The part of him that was Nightwing demanded he figure out what had happened.

He didn’t want to be Nightwing.  He just wanted to drift.  His training wouldn’t let him.  The more he tried the louder his instincts screamed something was wrong. 

He didn’t try to move, moving would come later.  He just needed to think.

He needed to figure out…

He needed to figure out… What?

He couldn’t remember.  His mind felt like mush.

…

Drugged.  He had been drugged.

Where?

He had been…

He had been…

Patrol.

He had been on patrol.  He had been drugged on patrol.

There was more, but that was enough right?  He just wanted to sleep, but no he couldn’t there was something else, something important.

Something…

No, Someone…

Cass!

Dick jerked upright.

Cass had been with him.

And promptly tipped over, only just catching himself on his hands, as a tsunami of pain tore through him.  His breath caught.  He couldn’t get his lungs to work.  He couldn’t breathe.  Then he was throwing up, his stomach ridding itself of anything and everything it had and even what it didn’t. 

Dick had no idea how long he held himself up, tremors rocking his entire body.  His stomach was still trying to expel itself.  He didn’t have any strength left.  His arms gave.  He barely managed to collapse to the side.  Not that he had the energy to care where he fell, not when he could barely breathe, not when his entire body was screaming in pain. 

The adrenaline rush that had gotten him up faded as quickly as it had come.  Washed away in waves of agony. 

Why had he tried to get up?  He couldn’t remember.  It must have been important.  He couldn’t fathom moving for anything short of catastrophic.  So, why couldn’t he remember?

Oh… Drugged.

He had been drugged.

He had been drugged by… Talons. 

He had been drugged by Talons in his apartment with Cass. 

Cass!  Tensing Dick tried to push himself up.  Cass needed him.

But no, that wasn’t right.  Dick slumped back.  Cass hadn’t been there. 

Cass had…

He had been kidnapped and…

Cass had come.  His family had come.  They had rescued him. 

Relief flooded Dick.  He opened his eyes again.  It was still dark.  Why, was it still dark and why did he still hurt so much if they had come?

Oh, right… he had been drugged.  They hadn’t come. 

They hadn’t come yet, but they were coming.  They were coming, right?  He thought they were coming, but he… he didn’t know, he couldn’t think.

He couldn’t remember.  He remembered Cass.  Cass had been… Cass was… Cass would… Cass… Cass wasn’t in the country. 

Cass couldn’t come, but at least that meant Cass was okay.  Cass hadn’t been with him.  His sister was safe.

With that thought, Dick drifted back into unconsciousness.

Blood ran in small rivulets down Cass’ side and arms, merging into ever-larger streams, mixing until it was impossible to tell where it was coming from.  Her cape kept the blood trapped, causing it to pool under her body. 

She didn’t move to stem the bleeding.  She didn’t move at all except for the slight expansion of her chest.  Her breathing was shallow.  Her heart rate was as low as she could get it while staying aware. 

She wasn’t worried about bleeding out.  The flow of blood had slowed along with her heart.  Most of her injuries would stop soon on their own and the ones that didn’t would have to wait. 

The danger wasn’t blood loss.  The danger was the Talons that had attacked her and Dick, the Talons who were still hunting her.  All it would take was movement at the wrong moment; her breath or heartbeat being too loud and the Talons would be on her. 

The Talons had taken Dick.  She had promised herself she would do anything, everything she could to protect him, but she had failed.  It hadn’t been enough.  Dick was gone.  She had lost him.  She had escaped.  She was alive, but she had failed. 

The Court would keep Dick alive.  They wanted him.  She was alive, but she didn’t know about anyone else.  At the same time she and Dick had been attacked, Batman and Robin, and Red Hood and Red Robin had reported attacks.  Oracle’s distress signal had followed seconds later.

They had broken into teams to cover more ground, but they had stayed within blocks of each other.  It hadn’t mattered.  Each team too swarmed to help the others. 

Barbara had been alone, but she had the plane as a way to escape.  

There had been an explosion from Red Hood and Red Robin’s direction and Cass hoped that was a good thing.  Jason loved explosions and they were one of the few things that could slow a Talon down if placed well.  If aimed perfectly they might even kill a Talon.  Cass knew the Justice League had begun looking into possibilities for curing and rehabilitating the Talons, but she didn’t care if Jason killed them.  All she cared about was if her family was still alive and she didn’t know. 

She couldn’t lose another family member.  She had already lost Dick.  She would get him back, but she knew the Talons wouldn’t take any of the rest of them alive.

They all had to be alive.  But Cass didn’t know.  She had been forced to turn off her comms.  She couldn’t risk any noise no matter how small.  She didn’t know if Barbara had made it out of their makeshift base.  She didn’t know if Jason, Tim, Bruce, or Damian had escaped the Talons.

Less than forty-eight hours after following the Court into South Rokan, the Court had compromised their base, her family was separated, and Dick had been taken for the second time in less than a week. 

Her family had to be alive she refused to believe anything else.

Dick had been taken and she was the only one who knew it.  Her family would find each other even in unfamiliar territory, but she was not looking forward to telling them that she had lost Dick to the Talons. 

Chapter Text

Barbara didn’t hit her distress signal with the expectation of a rescue.  A rescue wasn’t coming.  The Talons were too close; the Bat’s too far away to do anything. 

She didn’t need a rescue; she had the plane.  Escape was simple, but their base was compromised. 

Sending the signal was the fastest way to alert them to the threat.  With Talons closing in, speed was everything; each second the difference between life and death. 

Once everything was broken down, once she and their equipment were in the plane, once she was in the air and safe out of the Talon’s reach, then she could get on comms.  Then she could take the extra seconds of brainpower to talk, to report what had happened. 

The comms came to life seconds before her hand hit the button.  The others were under attack. 

Her body wanted to freeze, her brain wanted more information. 

She didn’t have time.

Her signal went out. 

A few minutes. 

Just a few minutes.  Then she would be safe.  Then she could focus on her family. 

A few minutes and she was in the air.  The few minutes might as well have been hours.

Dread filled Barbara as she stared at her computer screen. 

No Signal.

No Signal.

No Signal.

Only a few minutes, but that had been all the time needed for the comms to go dead, for each Bat’s signal to go dark. 

In the Batplane, she was safe. 

She was safe, hovering tens of thousands of feet above a foreign country with no place to land, cut off from her family stranded on the ground.  There was no way to communicate with them, no way to know if they were safe, if they were alive. 

Barbara didn’t feel safe. 

Gritting her teeth, Barbara went to work.  The Bats would need the comms back up.  They would need to be able to communicate, because they were alive.

Her family was alive.  She would accept nothing less.

And if the unthinkable proved true…

The Court’s first mistake was messing with her family; their last mistake would be missing her in this attack. 

“We are getting Dick back.”

Bruce glanced down at Damian, at the determination on his face. 

“Yes.” 

It wasn’t a reassurance, or an answer to a question; it was agreement to a statement, to a fact. 

There was no point in trying to give Damian false hope.   His youngest had lost his innocence and been well-versed in warfare long before Bruce even knew of his existence. 

Dick had been taken again.  They both knew it.  Even with the comms down, even with the inability to check in, they both knew. 

The attacks had been too quick and coordinated to be luck on the part of the Court.  The Court had been ten steps ahead of them this whole time.  They had led the Bat’s into a trap, but Dick was the primary target. 

Bruce did not need to talk to Cass or Dick to know that the main force of the attack had been launched against them.

Damian knew it too.  In certain regards, the League of Assassins was not all that different than the Court of Owls.

“Cassandra is formidable.  She would not fall easily.”  Damian’s voice was barely louder than a breath.  “Dick would not let her fall.”

Dick was a capture mission for the Talons.  The rest of them were kill missions.  Focusing on Dick had not left the Court enough resources to split between the rest of them, had not left them enough Talons to kill Batman and Robin, should not have left them enough to kill Red Hood and Red Robin, but Cass had been with Dick. 

They had escaped the Talons, but not injury.  Cass had been with Dick.

“She is,” Bruce agreed, tucking Damian into his side under his cape.  “And he wouldn’t.”

More fact.

Not empty reassurances.  Not false hope.  

He wasn’t going to hold the broken, lifeless body of another child. 

His daughter was alive.

His sons were alive. 

Barbara was alive.

And the son who had been stolen again…  Bruce was getting him back.

“This whole thing was a trap.”  Jason hissed, pulling on the medical tape.

Tim rolled his eyes.  “You don’t say.”

“We should have seen it!”  Jason said.  “Getting Dick back, the Court running, it was all too easy.”

“We should have,” Tim agreed.  “Now, stop pulling.  I don’t need you to finish breaking my ribs.”

“We should have?  That’s it?”  Jason growled, but he did relax the tape slightly before tying it off.  “How are you calm?”

“Oxygen-deprived, not calm,” Tim said.  “There’s a difference.  Now sit down before you fall over.”

“I’m fine.”

Tim frowned.  “You were bleeding all over the place.”

“Was,” Jason said.  “Now I’m not.”

“Mostly, you mean mostly not,” Tim said, standing up.  “It needs stitches.  Now sit down and let me do them.”

“Do I want you doing my stitches?”  Jason asked, eyeing Tim as he felt for the edge of the table and settled himself on it.  “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Too many,” Tim said as he searched through his medical supplies.

“Great, you’re seeing double.”  Jason ran a hand down his face.

Tim shrugged.  “And you’re not?  Don’t think I didn’t see all four of you nearly miss the table.”

“You are not making me feel better about letting you stab me with a needle multiple times.”  Jason groaned.  “Are you even capable of putting the stitches in the right spot?”

“I wasn’t trying to, and probably.”  Tim held up the needle.  “It only took a few tries to get threaded, so stop whining.  You’re fine.”

“Yeah,” Jason muttered.  “Right up until I bleed out because you put the stitches in the wrong place.”  

“Thought you weren’t bleeding out anymore,” Tim said, pulling the field dressing away.

Jason gripped the edge of the table to hold himself steady for Tim.  “Mostly, mostly not.” 

“Well, in that case, I just have to get the stitches mostly right,” Tim said, pulling the edges of the wound together and sliding the needle in.

Gritting his teeth, Jason didn’t respond.

The silence lasted until Tim tied off the last stitch.

Jason took a slow breath.  “We’re getting him back.”

Looking up, Tim met his eyes.  “Yes.”

“We’re destroying the Court,” Jason said.

Tim nodded.  “We’re burning down everything they have.”

Jason turned his focus to cleaning the blood off his side and rewrapping the wound as Tim began cleaning up their equipment.

Chapter Text

“Where can I find a hotel?” 

The man across the counter shook his head and rattled off something Jason couldn’t understand. 

“A Ho-teeel.”  Raising his voice, Jason drew out the word as if volume and speed were the only issues.   

The man slowed his own words down and pointed toward the door.  He had been friendly when Jason first walked in, but after ten minutes of trying to communicate, it became clear to him that Jason was not interested in buying anything, and from there, his good cheer and patience had petered out. 

Stepping to the door, Jason poked his head out, but instead of leaving, as the man clearly wanted, he merely glanced up and down the street.  “Hotel?”  Jason repeated, turning back and shoving a piece of paper across the counter at the man. 

The paper looked vaguely like a map if you squinted, had never seen any kind of map in your life, were concussed, and hadn’t slept in seventy-two hours.

About the only thing Jason knew about the paper was that it wasn’t a map, but the man in front of him didn’t need to know that Jason wasn’t as much of an idiot as he was acting. 

The man looked at Jason, looked down at the paper, took a deep breath, and then began to yell while gesturing at the door. 

Cocking his head, Jason screwed up his face in an attempt to look confused.  He waited one beat before glancing down at his ‘map’ and then back at the man’s gestures.  Twisting the paper, he continued to glance back and forth as if trying to figure out how the man’s shouts and gestures corresponded with his ‘map’. 

Apparently, realizing that Jason was not getting his message, the man grabbed the paper, stepped around the counter, and proceeded to try to push Jason out the door.

It wasn’t saying much that the guy was smaller than Jason, but Jason was pretty sure he could pick the guy up and put him on the counter one-handed. 

In any other circumstances, Jason would have felt two parts amused and one part guilty for the way he was messing with the poor guy.  Now, though, all he felt was a cold and calculating fury.  The man could push all he wanted, but Jason had a job to do, and he wasn’t moving until it was finished.

A second later, the man gave up and just glared at Jason.

“Hotel?” Jason asked cocking his head.

The man took another deep breath, and Jason was ninety-nine percent sure he was about to start yelling again, but the yelling didn’t start.  He looked down at the paper still in his hand and then back at Jason with one of the most insincere smiles Jason had ever seen, and Jason had spent three years attending galas that no one wanted to be at, but everyone smiled about anyway. 

Smile still plastered on his face, the man tapped the paper before heading to the door.  Waving at Jason to come, he tapped on the paper again before pointing down the street. 

Jason stepped up next to the man and leaned out the door while keeping himself firmly in the shop.

The man huffed, his smile becoming more strained as he tried to hand the paper to Jason, once again pointing at it then down the street. 

When Jason didn’t move to take the paper back or leave, the man began alternating between pointing at the paper and making shooing gestures down the street. 

Jason was sure that in another thirty seconds, he’d be back to yelling and attempting to push Jason out of the shop.

A flash of movement caught his attention just as he opened his mouth to repeat himself for the hundredth time. 

Allowing his own insincere smile to spread over his face, Jason nodded and grabbed the paper as if he had just understood the man’s directions.  Patting the man on the shoulder, Jason stepped out of the shop and, raising the paper as if trying to follow it, headed in the direction the man had pointed.

“Took you long enough.”  Jason hissed, slipping into an alley.

“Do you know how many different parts I was looking for?”  Tim asked, joining him.

Jason shrugged.  “It was a small shop.”

“Which is exactly part of the problem,” Tim said.  “They didn’t have close to everything I needed.  I had to get parts to build parts.  I’m going to have to build basically everything from scratch.”

“But you did get everything you needed, right?”  Jason asked.

“In the most roundabout way imaginable, yes,” Tim answered. 

“Good,” Jason nodded, moving further into the alley.  “After all that work I did…”

“Work!” Tim laughed, falling into step next to him.  “You had the easy part.”

“Easy?!”  Jason elbowed Tim.  “I had to keep that guy distracted for close to fifteen minutes, and I couldn’t understand a word he was saying!”

“Yeah,” Tim said, elbowing him back.  “And you did a great job playing the super lost, idiotic tourist just like I said you would.” 

“I’m still offended by the way,” Jason said.

Tim grinned.  “Why?  It was a compliment to your acting ability.” 

“That is not how you sounded when you said it,” Jason said.

“What did I sound like?”  Tim asked.

“Like Damian.” 

“Okay,” Tim huffed, “Now I’m offended.” 

Jason grinned.

They fell silent for the rest of the trip.  The building they slipped into was not the same one they had bandaged themselves up in while hiding from the talons.  It was daylight now, but only a few hours had passed, and neither of them doubted that the Talons were still hunting.  The explosion from Jason’s helmet had only bought them a short head start.  They needed to go to ground before the Talons caught up again, but there were a few things that they needed first.

“I hate EMPs!”  Tim growled, setting down the pieces he was working on.  As much as he felt like throwing something, he was not about to set himself back anymore by damaging any of his limited supplies. 

“At least you didn’t lose your helmet,” Jason said.

“At least your helmet was still good for something,” Tim said, frowning at the pieces spread out in front of him.  “And you’re not the one trying to rebuild our equipment from outdated odds and ends you stole from a third-rate electronic shop.  Just so we can check in and make sure we’re not the only members of our family still alive!”

“Hey, I helped you steal those odds and ends,” Jason said, nudging Tim.  “Now move over.  I may not love the electronic side of things as much as you and Barbara, but I sat through B’s lessons the same as you two.  This won’t be my first time building a computer, or comms, or whatever else we need from next to nothing.  For the record, they’re fine.”

Tim nodded.  “Yeah, I know.”

“I mean it,” Jason said.  “They all survived me trying to kill them at one point or another, a few Talons aren’t taking them out.  This is going to be a status update, not a whose still alive head count.”

Tim took a deep breath and returned to work.  “Right, if we’re not regrouping, they’ll need to know.”

“Exactly,” Jason said, picking up his own pieces. 

Tim forced his mind away from his worry and to their plans for the present.  His voice was firmer when he spoke again.  “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Jason said.  “They knew we’d follow them here.  It was all too planned for this location to be without reason.  It’s what I would do.” 

“So, what’s the plan?”  Tim asked.

“Go in, find Dick and take him back,” Jason said.

Tim rolled his eyes.  “Are you forgetting about the part that if we get caught there, it could start a war?”

“So we don’t get caught,” Jason said.  “Besides, I’m the Red Hood.  I’m not affiliated with the Justice League.  As far as anyone outside of Gotham is concerned, I’m not even affiliated with Batman.  I’m a crime lord, and if I decide that I want to expand my territory internationally, who’s to stop me?  The Justice League?  …Oh wait, North Rokan doesn’t allow them within their borders.  I took over Crime Alley in three days, North Rokan won’t take that much longer.”

Tim raised his eyebrows.  “Your backup plan is taking over the country?”

Jason met Tim’s eyes with a cold smile.  “Who said it was the backup plan?” 

Tim nodded.  “Three days.  We can do that.”

“What?” Jason asked.

“North Rokan is a country.  If things were the same, it would take you longer to take over,” Tim returned Jason’s smile.  “But you didn’t have my help when you took over Crime Alley.”

“Wait,” Jason raised his eyebrows.  “You’re on board with taking over a country?”

“Getting Dick back is a valid reason to start world conquest.  There are alternate versions of me who started world domination for much worse reasons,” Tim said.  “And for the record, it is the backup plan, and if we do, you will have to give it back.  I’m not making that commute long term.” 

“Okay, I can agree to that,” Jason nodded.  “We’re going to need to stock up on a few more weapons before we start. Preferably tonight if we can find them.”

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” Tim said.  “But that does mean we’d better finish getting all this together.”

Both turned their full attention back to the task at hand.  An agreement reached, they would be ready to move on to the next step by nightfall.

Chapter Text

When Dick awoke again, it was still to darkness.

Was he even awake? 

He was having a hard time telling.  Opening his eyes didn’t change anything. 

Were his eyes even open?                                                          

He strained his ears, but there was only silence.

His head felt like it was full of cotton.  There was nothing to anchor himself to.  It felt like he was floating. 

Was he floating?

No light.  No sound.  No passage of time.

Pain flared, arresting the movement of his arm before he could bring his hand to his face. 

Oh yeah, that was why he wasn’t moving. 

He drew in a deep breath in an attempt to ride out the pain.  The smell had him wrinkling his nose before he even fully registered it. 

Vomit. 

He took another breath.  It wouldn’t have been his first choice, but the smell was something in all the nothingness that surrounded him. 

The smell.  The pain.   The only things to anchor himself in reality.  Otherwise he couldn’t tell the difference between unconscious and conscious.

“Get up.”

Dick tensed.  He hadn’t heard anyone, and considering whose hands he was in, there was only one conclusion for him to come to.  Taking a slow breath, Dick relaxed.  Tensing hurt, and while the pain was grounding, he was already in plenty without any need to add to it.  He was in no condition to face a Talon, but that didn’t mean he was going to do what the Talon told him to.  He listened for any movement, waiting for the Talon’s response.

“You are a weapon of the Court of Owls.  Get up.”

“No.”

The word was a denial of being the Court’s, not a refusal of the order.  It didn’t matter whether the Talon understood that.  A refusal to obey and his lack of movement were as much of a denial as anything he could say.

“You are injured.”

Dick rolled his eyes.  “I am?  Really, I hadn’t noticed.  You’re a master of observation.”  Was being snarky wise, in his current position?  Probably not.  Was it going to stop him?  No.

“You will receive treatment when you have served the Court.”

“I’ll have to pass on that offer.  I’m fine, but thanks anyway.”  His family was coming; he could wait.

“You have killed before, and now it is time for you to take your place with us.  You will kill for the Court of Owls.”

How did the Court know about Joker?  Did they know about Joker, or was this just a game?  It was a game, but did that mean yes or no?  Dick still couldn’t get his brain to think straight.  He took a breath to steady himself.  It didn’t matter if the Court knew because his answer was the same either way.  “No, I won’t.”

“You will serve the Court.”

“I won’t.”

The only response he got was silence.

Nothing had changed.  It would alert her if it did.  That didn’t stop Barbara from checking the emergency line again. 

Bruce and Damian had been the first to check in.  Fourteen hours and eleven minutes after their comms and signals went dark.  Jason and Tim’s check-in had followed five hours and twenty-seven minutes later.  Dick and Cass had remained dark.

Dick was… Dick had… Dick had probably been captured.  It was a horrible thought even just in her own head, but not one she had the luxury of ignoring.  Jason and Tim were on their way into North Rokan because they believed that was where the Court would take Dick.  Bruce and Damian had agreed, but were still in South Rokan looking for Cass. 

Thirty-three hours and fifty-six minutes since they had lost contact with Dick and Cass, but that didn’t mean anything.  The Court wanted Dick.  Cass…  Cass didn’t do well with computers.  They had never had to use this emergency line before.  Cass had probably forgotten that it even existed.  Maybe…

It didn’t mean anything that they were tipping into the thirty-fourth hour of no contact.  It didn’t.  Bruce and Damian would find Cass, or more likely, she would find them.  Cass was okay.

Shutting down any voice that said otherwise, Barbara turned back to her work. 

They needed a direction to target their search.  Something more concrete than probably in North Rokan and maybe in South Rokan.  The trail had gone dead after the Court arrived in South Rokan.  The members had disappeared, but an organization like the Court of Owls always caused currents somewhere. 

If she couldn’t find the Court directly, then she would find the currents and let them lead her back to the source.  Lead her back to Dick.  The Court had been in Gotham too long, had been too ingrained in the fabric of the city for their movements to stand out.  They might have prepared things ahead of time in North and South Rokan, but they were still the new bullies in the neighborhood.  They hadn’t been around long enough for the currents to settle, for the movements around them to look natural. 

There wasn’t a doubt in Barbara’s mind that the Court had drawn the Bats out of Gotham, out of the U.S., so that they would be somewhere unfamiliar, so they would stand out.  Two could play at that game, and Barbara wasn’t losing.

Finding darker shadows, Cass leaned against a wall and closed her eyes.  She just needed a second to let the dizziness pass. 

She wasn’t sure how much time and passed.  At least two days. 

As much as she had tried to prevent it, she had passed out while hiding from the Talons.  Her injuries were worse than she had admitted to herself.  Based on how she was feeling, she had lost a dangerous amount of blood while waiting for the Talons to pass over her. 

Her loss of consciousness on its own was enough of a sign that she should not be out, but she had woken up and had managed to patch herself up.  It would be enough.  It had to be. She was alive, and Dick was gone.  Injuries and blood loss were not going to stop her from finding him.  She would rest when he was home.  When the Court was dead.  When her brother was safe.

Two days.  She had been looking for two days.  She hadn’t found anything.  She hadn’t found Dick.  She hadn’t found any of her family. 

Two days and she hadn’t done anything.  For all she knew, she was going in circles.  She didn’t know where the Court was.  She didn’t know where any of her family was.  She barely knew where she was. 

She had tried to contact her family.  She had thought her comm was only silent because she had turned it off, but turning it on had done nothing.  She was alone and hurt, and if she stopped moving, she would be dead.  If she stopped, then she would never find Dick. 

The world was fuzzy when she opened her eyes, but it had stopped spinning.  She started forward.  She didn’t know what direction she was going.  She didn’t have the energy to care about direction.

Her movements were getting slower, sloppier, her usual grace having vanished along with Dick.  She was still on her feet, and she was still managing to be silent, but all her energy was focused on those two things.  

Cass took a deep breath.  She wasn’t any good to Dick like this.  She needed to rest.  She needed somewhere safe. 

She was hunted.  She was vulnerable.  She was alone. 

There was nowhere safe. 

She would be an easy target if she stopped.

Pausing, she scanned her surroundings.  There was no room to be anything but honest with herself.  She was already an easy target.  She didn’t want to stop, but it wasn’t a choice anymore.  Where, was still a choice, but it was rapidly slipping through her fingers. 

Her family wasn’t here.  She was alone.  She had been alone before.  She operated alone most of the time.  There was nowhere safe while injured and alone.  There was only indefensible and defensible.

The hole she found underneath the foundation of a rundown building was far from perfect.  It was only defensible in that anyone larger than her wouldn’t be able to get in, but it would be far too easy for them to simply wait her out or block her in.  She had already used up most of the food and water she carried, in an attempt to prevent shock and counteract the symptoms of blood loss.  She wouldn’t last long trapped in the hole.  Still, the Talons would have to find it for that to become a problem, and the dark spots at the edges of her vision weren’t giving her time for other options.  

Settling in, Cass stopped fighting the pull of sleep.  She was as safe as she could be while alone.  She would find her family, and they would find Dick.  First, though, she had to let her body rest. 

“You belong to the Court of Owls.”

“No.”  The word dragged up Dick’s throat, causing him to cough.   When he got himself under control, he was met with emptiness, the voice once again gone. 

He didn’t know how many times the voice had come and gone.  He thought he had tried to count at the beginning, but it was hard to think past the sledgehammer that had taken up residents in his head.  The pain had been grounding at the beginning.  Now it just was.  It was just pain, and silence, and darkness.  It was just emptiness.  It was nothingness. 

He remembered finding walls, but the memory felt old and vague almost like a dream.  It probably had been a dream, just like his family coming for him.  He had tried to find the walls again, but there were no walls here. 

Just empty nothingness. 

He missed the voice.  At least when the voice came, there was something else.

The voice had offered water at some point, but he had told it no.  He didn’t know why he had.  Water sounded really good.  His mouth and throat felt like sandpaper.  His head was pounding.  Water would help with that, or at least he thought it would… 

Maybe…

What was…

He couldn’t think. 

His head hurt. 

He had been thinking about something.

He tried to swallow.  His throat was dry.

Water. 

He needed water. 

He had told the voice no.  Why had he done that?  The voice always left when he did that.  It was something important, but he couldn’t remember.  It couldn’t be that important if he couldn’t even remember, could it? 

He wanted the voice to come back.  He wanted the voice to stay. 

He didn’t want to be in this emptiness.  He didn’t want to be alone anymore. 

Chapter Text

Damian wouldn’t admit to either Jason or Timothy that he had felt relief when they had checked into the emergency line.  He also wouldn’t admit how worried he was about Cassandra or Dick.  Worry wasn’t going to get them anywhere. 

Damian would never admit to the guilt he was feeling.  There was a time when he could have left a teammate behind without remorse or guilt.  There was a time when choosing between two people would have been based solely on who could best serve Damian’s purposes.  There was a time when Damian could have, would have left both Dick and Cass to their fates without hesitation, without any emotional turmoil. 

That time was past.

Not only was Damian searching for Cass, but he also felt guilty because he wasn’t searching for Dick.  That guilt alone, though still a somewhat new and strange thing, wouldn’t have been hard for him to handle, but it didn’t end there.  Because Damian wanted to look for Dick more than he wanted to search for Cass, and that desire brought its own guilt. 

There weren’t supposed to be favorites in a family.

Damian knew that if he was forced to choose between Dick and Cass, there would be no choice.  He would always choose Dick, yet he was searching for Cass. 

Damian felt guilty searching for Cass instead of Dick, and he felt guilty for wanting to search for Dick instead of Cass.  It was contradictory.  It was a confusing and terrifying mix of emotions. 

Damian wanted Cass to be okay. 

He wanted Dick to be okay. 

He needed the man who had been his first parent to be okay. 

He needed his dad.  

It wasn’t fair. 

He liked Cass. 

They had just started building a relationship.

He had just started to let himself care.

It wasn’t fair.

He wanted his sister to be safe.

He wanted his brother safe.

He wasn’t supposed to have to choose.

He needed his dad.

Damian had spent the first ten years of his life learning not to care.  He had only had a couple of years to try and unlearn those lessons.  Damian cared about a lot of people, but most of them he cared about from a distance.  There were only a few exceptions, and he wasn’t ready to lose two of them. 

Cass jerked back before she fully registered the threat.  It was still too late, the threat already on her.  Her movement was halted as suddenly as it began.  There was no space left behind her, nowhere to go. 

She lashed out. 

The presence retreated to just out of her striking distance.  She didn’t understand. Her brain was foggy with sleep, making her reactions slow and her attack weak.  Why had they backed off?  Why had they let her wake up at all? 

Already, she could feel her adrenaline draining away, unconsciousness calling to her once again.  Maybe that was why.  There was no reason for them to fight when all they had to do was wait. 

There was noise.  She wanted it to stop.  She needed to think.

She was trapped with dirt at her back and a threat only a few feet in front of her.  Something about that was wrong.  She had picked her hiding place because no one else should have been able to follow her in.  She barely fit. 

The person in front of her must be her size or smaller.  That meant something, but her brain was too sluggish to figure out what.  The noise coming closer wasn’t helping.

There were hands on her.  When had the person moved?  She struck at them, but there was no power behind the hit.  The person didn’t back off a second time.  She was too weak to fight.  She didn’t even have the strength to pull away as they began dragging her out. 

It took her a second of being dragged to realize that the noise was a steady stream of words.  They were talking to her. 

Her grip on consciousness was too tenuous for her to make out the jumble of words, but the tone was harsh and demanding.  It was condescending.  It was familiar.  Cass released the last of her fight.   

On the surface, it was just like Cain’s, but underneath the voice, underneath the condescension and demands, there was hidden fear and worry.

On the surface they were similar underneath they couldn’t have been more different.

It was nothing like Cain’s, because the voice meant safety, the voice meant home. 

The darkness of the hole hid her smile, but in its close confines the words did not go unheard.  “Little brother.”

Dick couldn’t say if he had been asleep or not.  All he knew was one moment there was nothing, and the next there were hands wrapped around his throat.  He couldn’t think.  He couldn’t breathe.  Instinct took over.   

Something gave way under the force of his strike.  The sound of bone crunching was covered by a howl of pain. 

It was too loud.  Cringing back, Dick clamped his hands over his ears.  The noise felt like a bomb going off in his head after being surrounded by only silence.  The weight on top of him shifted.

Threat. 

It wasn’t even a full thought.  There was no thought as he brought his legs up and wrapped them around his assailant's throat.  He was upright before he could process what his body was doing.  Pain jolted through him as he slammed into the ground. 

How had he fallen when he had been lying down? 

Hello, full thought!

Weird thought.  Why…

Ugh, never mind.  His head hurt.  Thinking hurt. 

Move.

It wasn’t a true thought.  It was deeper.  It was over a decade of training and honed instinct.  It was everything Dick did not feel like listening to.

Move.

He didn’t want to move.  Moving was painful.  He couldn’t think of a reason to move.  He couldn’t think much at all, but that wasn’t the point. 

There was a scuffing noise.  It grated in his ears, reverberating through his head.  He wanted it to stop. 

Move.

Dick moved. 

He swayed on his hands and knees, barely stopping himself from face-planting.  His body and head did not appreciate the change in position and insisted he lie back down.  His training and instinct screamed that he needed to get to his feet, that he wasn’t moving fast enough.  Dick just wished they’d agree already.  Lying down sounded really good. 

Everything was still dark, but that didn’t stop it from spinning. 

A blow to his side ruined his vertical progress.  

Oh yeah, that thing…

The floor wasn’t too bad.  He wanted to sleep. 

Another kick slammed into him, followed by hands grabbing at his face.

Someone was trying to kill him.

He didn’t want to die.  Death was more committed than he felt like being.  Now his brain sounded like Jason.  Though Jason would probably say something about commitment being unnecessary with death. 

Jason would be mad if he died.  Jason had been mad at him last time.  Wait, no, that wasn’t right.  Jason had been mad about…  Jason had been mad because… He had yelled at him when he came back.  Jason had been mad because he came back. 

The hands found his throat.  Had that happened already?

Dick wanted the hands gone.  The contact was too much.  His skin felt like it was burning.  His lungs felt like they were burning.  Oh, breathing.  He couldn’t breathe.  Breathing would be nice. 

His body was moving on its own again.  He was on his hands and knees.  He could breathe again.  He was on top, on top of…  It was too much.  There was too much contact.  He needed to get away.  He tried to push himself back, but something wrapped around his wrist. 

He drove his fist downward.  There was a grunt as it connected.  It was too loud. 

The grip didn’t loosen. 

It was too much.  He needed it to let go.  He needed it to stop.  He needed everything to stop.

He struck again. 

Something else was reaching out, grabbing at him.

Stop. 

His fist connected again.

There was a groan.  It rang in his ears.  Noise.  Too much noise.

Stop.

His fist slammed into something firmer.  The noise stopped, the hands dropped away.

Twisting, Dick angled his fall away from the person under him.  The reintroduction to the ground was jarring and painful, but it was familiar, and not overwhelming, and safe. 

The smell reached him first.  It was subtle at first, but strengthened rapidly until he was choking on it.  It coated his nose and throat until he could almost taste it.  Raising his hands to his face didn’t do anything to block it out. 

Something warm and sticky began to pool around him, soaking into his clothes. 

He knew the smell.  He knew the feeling. 

It meant something bad, but he didn’t care.  It was overwhelming.  It was making him feel sick.  He wanted the smell and feeling gone. 

Blood.

He tried to push himself away, but his hands slipped in the blood.

There was a lot.  He wanted to get away.

He couldn’t get away.

He was bleeding.  Even if he could move, the smell, the feeling, it would just come with him.

He was bleeding.

He was dying. 

He didn’t want to die again.

Barbara wanted to check on Cass.  She had landed the plane as soon as she heard from Bruce that they had Cass.  The three were safely on board, but had remained in the back to tend to Cass.  She wanted to see for herself that Cass would be okay.  There wasn’t time, though.  There had been an explosion of movement in the Rokan governments, and she was having a hard time keeping up while also backtracking the trigger.

Resources were being diverted in both North and South Rokan, the militaries strengthened along the border on both sides. 

The powder keg was about to go off. 

Cass had Bruce and Damian taking care of her.  Dick needed Barbara to figure out what was going on.  He needed her to find the Court, to find him.  Cass had Bruce and Damian.  Dick needed Barbara.

Listening to the quiet movement in the back of the plane, Barbara focused on her second computer.  The first could track the militaries without her input.  She had three computers running different systems and searches.  They were probably the most powerful portable computers in the world, and yet they were far too slow.

North Rokan’s leaders had spent several secret meetings with an unnamed party.  After her little bit of digging, the meetings weren’t a secret from Barbara anymore.  She had her suspicions about who the unnamed party was, although she was still trying to nail them down. 

She glanced at her third computer.  Security was being increased around the political leaders in South Rokan.  Her eyes were back on North Rokan’s meetings before the realization hit.  Something was wrong.  She switched over to the computer running South Rokan’s data.  Security wasn’t just being increased; many of their leaders were disappearing, or at least trying to, while others were digging in. 

Barbara wasn’t sure how long she had spent tracking North and South Rokan’s movements when a presence at her back had her coming up for air.

“How’s Cass?”

“Recovering.  She needs rest,” Bruce said.  “She lost a lot of blood due to her injuries going untreated, but that is the worst of it.”

“Good, that’s good.”  Taking a deep breath, Barbara switched her brain back to work.  “You need to look at this.”

Bruce didn’t bother with a verbal acknowledgment as he started scanning what she had found.

“Talons.”

The one word was all Barbara needed to confirm that Bruce had seen the same thing as her and reached the same conclusion.  Still, she felt she had to push back.

“I haven’t been able to confirm for sure that the Court of Owls is the party connected to North Rokan or that there is an assassination greenlit.”  Barbara paused for a second before overriding her caution with her next statement.  “But if North Rokan is connected to the Court and has access to the talons, this war will be over before it starts and not in a good way.” 

“Damian and I will look into it.”  Pulling his cowl back down, Bruce turned to leave, but paused on his way out.  “It’s a good start, Barbara.” 

Bruce had been getting better at trying to encourage them, but for once Barbara didn’t get any pleasure out of the acknowledgment.  There were only two options with the information: either they were misinterpreting it or they were right.  One meant they were wasting time.   The other meant that Bruce and Damian would be facing Talons.”

Neither option was good, in Barbara’s opinion. 

If they were going to find Dick, they would have to deal with more Talons.  Still, with Dick missing because of Talons and Cass injured in the back of the plane, also because of Talons, Barbara wasn’t in a hurry for another confrontation involving Talons and people she cared about. 

Her only comfort was in the fact that Bruce and Damian had been able to replace some of their equipment, including comms. 

Holding onto that, Barbara focused on what needed to be done.  Bruce and Damian were off the plane, meaning she needed to get it off the ground again.  Jason and Tim were in North Rokan and needed an update and a warning.  They were about to be in a war zone. 

There was still digging to be done into North and South Rokan’s movements.  The Owls still needed to be found. 

Dick still needed to be found.

Barbara got back to work.

Chapter Text

“This is a waste of time.” Damian hissed.  “We should be headed to North Rokan.”

Crouched, eyes scanning the landscape in front of them, Bruce didn’t turn to his youngest.  “We don’t know for sure that he’s there.  We can’t afford to ignore any lead.”

Damian huffed.  “This is barely a lead.  We can’t cover them all.  We don’t even know if the threat is real.  Even if it is, we don’t know that the Court is involved.”

Rising, Bruce laid a hand on Damian’s shoulder for a brief second before continuing their movement around the perimeter of the building.  He had no verbal response.  Damian already understood the importance of why they were there.  He was just frustrated and afraid and had no way to release either emotion. 

Damian’s scowl did soften ever so slightly at the contact, and Bruce took the win.  He desperately needed one.  Privately, he agreed with Damian.  This lead was thin, too thin when it was his son’s life on the line.  But because it was his son’s life at risk, he also couldn’t ignore any lead, no matter how thin. 

South and North Rokan, two small, unstable, warring countries, and hidden somewhere in the mess was his son.  They were small countries, but they were still countries, and Dick could be anywhere.  Bruce hated how helpless he felt. 

He registered their presence a split second before the attack.  It was all the time he needed to react.  Sweeping his arm up, Bruce spun, his cape flaring out, hiding Robin from the Talons’ view for just a moment.  The first Talon’s sword skidded off his raised forearm.  In the next second, the cape settled, Robin flying from its darkness like a wraith, diverting the second Talon’s attack. 

Pushing forward, Bruce forced the sword down and drove his fist into the talon’s throat with enough force to kill, if a talon could die.  The Talon skidded back a step before driving back in, a knife slipping into its hand.  Bruce twisted slightly, not slowing his own forward momentum.  His armor held as the knife grazed him.  The Talon’s ribs did not fare as well.  The Talon’s drive amplifying the power of Bruce’s strike.

Allowing his momentum to carry him around the Talon, Bruce spun, slamming his elbow into the back of its neck while catching its arm with his other hand.  Muscle tore, and bone broke as the Talon’s body and arm were forced in opposite directions.  The knife fell from the Talon’s hand into Bruce’s, a clean transfer ending with a tracker and the knife in the base of the Talon’s neck, severing the spinal cord.  Bruce didn’t wait for the Talon to hit the ground before turning to join Damian’s fight. 

There was no time to breathe as the second Talon fell.  More shadows were moving, but they weren’t joining in the attack.  They were headed for the building. 

Bruce ran for the building, Damian a step behind him.  They wouldn’t make it in time.  South Rokan’s security wouldn’t mean anything.  Not to the Talon’s.  Bruce and Damian were only seconds behind them, but seconds were all a Talon needed.  Batman was going to be too late again. 

Too late for his son. 

Too late for South Rokan’s soldiers.

Too late for the South Rokan government officials. 

Too late. 

The halls were silent as Bruce and Damian passed through them.  There was no resistance and no need to question where to go.  The soldiers were already dead, their bodies an obvious trail made of blood. 

The trail ended four levels below ground, at a set of closed doors.  Narrowing his eyes, Bruce scanned the hall and doors.  None of the other doors had been closed.  He didn’t slow his movement.  There wasn’t time. 

The keypad and lock had clearly been tampered with, a sign of the Talons’ entry.  Yet still, these doors were closed.

There was no need for subtlety.  The Talons already knew they were there. 

Signaling with his hand for Damian to move to the side and wait, Bruce pushed through the doors.

The activity in the room froze for a moment at his entrance.  The Talons were already there, like Bruce had known they would be.  There, however, was no death in the room.  The South Rokan soldiers and officials were still all very alive. 

The moment broke.  The soldiers grabbed the officials, shielding them with their own bodies as they steered them toward a side exit.  The Talons moved in, further creating a wall between Batman and the officials.  As if to defend them.  As if he and Robin were the threat.  As if they were not the ones who had slaughtered the men in the hall. 

Pieces were still missing, but the picture was becoming all too clear, and the Court was still three steps ahead. 

Retreating backward, Bruce threw an explosive batarang at the top of the door.  There was nothing to be gained from a fight other than injuries.  The Talons weren’t there to kill the officials, but to set the Bats up as enemies of South Rokan, a manipulation that had cost the lives of South Rokan soldiers. 

Bruce and Damian once again disappeared into the city, Talons close behind.  The Court of Owls had their hands in both governments. 

Bright. 

Dick squeezed his eyes shut.  Everything was too bright.  He had wanted out of the darkness, but now that he was out, he wanted it back.  Even with his eyes closed, it was too bright.  The light felt like an attack against his eyes, sending daggers of pain into his head.  The darkness hadn’t been painful. 

Throwing an arm up to protect his eyes, Dick breathed out in relief.  The daggers in his eyes and brain eased with the added barrier between them and the light.  It took another breath before he realized that he wasn’t in much pain.

That was wrong.  He remembered pain.  A lot of pain.  Moving his arm should have hurt, or at least he thought it should have.

His train of thought was derailed by a hand raising his head.  The contact burned.  It was too much.  Just like the light.  He wanted it gone.  He needed it… Something cold touched his lips, and then water was dribbling into his mouth, and suddenly nothing else mattered.  Everything narrowed to the sensation of water in his mouth and running down his parched throat.  The light, the hand didn’t matter anymore, only the water.  He needed the water. 

Using his free hand, Dick groped for the cup.  Whoever was holding it was pouring the water too slowly.  His hand was caught and pushed down before it found the cup.  He would have whined if he weren’t afraid of risking the water steadily, but slowly, too slowly, running into his mouth.  He needed more water.  He needed it now.  Why didn’t the person understand that?  He would tell them, except he couldn’t swallow and talk at the same time. 

The person giving him water should… Who was giving him water?  The question was sudden and unwelcome for its persistence.  There was no sound.  No one was talking to him.  Water should mean rescue, but his family would be talking to him, reassuring him, berating him.  They would be doing something.  It shouldn’t be silent. 

Dropping his arm, he opened his eyes.  He blinked and squinted and blinked some more, trying to see through the light searing into his eyes.  He wasn’t sure how long it took for eyes to start working, assuming vision blurrier than a speedster at a buffet even counted as working.  However long it had been, the water was gone, and he didn’t need clear vision to recognize Talons.      

Multiple Talons.

He wasn’t in the dark anymore.

He wasn’t in pain other than the light.

He had been given water.

Talons had given him water.

It was wrong.  It was all wrong, but he couldn’t remember why.

It meant something, but he couldn’t think what.

His brain struggled to put the pieces together.  His gaze darted around.  The pain of the light, secondary to his desperate need for answers to the something that was very, very wrong.

And then his eyes found the body, and everything froze.  His brain had its answer. 

No.  It had to be wrong.  It had to be. 

No.  It was wrong.  That couldn’t… He couldn’t…   

He could barely see.  He wasn’t seeing correctly.

“He was an enemy of the Court.”  The Talon’s voice was a bucket of ice cutting into his spiraling thoughts.  “You did well.”

No. 

He was lying in a pool of blood.  Not his own blood, but the blood of the man next to him.  The man he had…  He had…  No.  nononononono.  He hadn’t… He couldn’t… No.  No. No.

The memory of fighting something, someone in the dark, of hitting until the body under him went limp, until they let go, slammed into him.  The blood.  He had thought he was bleeding out.  He had thought he was dying.  It hadn’t been his.  It hadn't been him.  The pool of blood.  The body.  The realization stole his breath.  He hadn’t… He hadn’t meant…

He couldn’t breathe.  He was choking.  He rolled to the side, his stomach revolting, the water his body so desperately needed spilling out and mixing with the blood on the ground. 

He continued to dry heave long after his stomach expelled all of the water.  He continued until exhaustion made him too weak to do more than choke.  

He welcomed the darkness as it claimed him once again.

Chapter Text

“We warned you.”

Mutters of discontent rippled through the room at the words.  The owl sat back waiting patiently for the weight of the evidence to sink in and for the council to come to the conclusion the Court had already chosen for them. 

The photos were spread across the table for all to see, Batman standing in an office with multiple high level South Rokan officials.  Stills from video footage, crafted and chosen to tell the story the Court wanted.

He didn’t have long to wait.

“This man… Bat, he is dangerous?”  General Ish asked, picking up one of the photos.

“He has overthrown more than one government from the shadows, and he is not alone.”

A heavy silence followed the Owl’s statement.  He again waited.  General Razik was the next to break the silence.  “He is a member of the Justice League, is he not?”

“Yes.”  The Owl nodded.

General Ish frowned.  “The Justice League doesn’t interfere in the business of countries without permission.”

The Owl scoffed.  “You believe that?”

“Obviously, an organization such as the Justice League could not afford any less than the most subtle of assassins,” General Razik said, tapping his fingers on the table.

There were nods of agreement and understanding from around the room. 

“He and his people are coming?”  General Hin asked.

 “Coming?” The Owl shook his head.  “They’re already here.”  

“General Gre.”  General Razik said, his gaze moving to the empty chair.

The Owl raised his eyebrows.  “You did not think his disappearance was simply a coincidence, did you?”

“This is not something we can ignore.”  Commander Zu said, ending any further discussion.  “There is only one response.  This is war.  Is your offer of assistance still extended?”

The Owl nodded.  “It is.”

Commander Zu turned to the generals, making eye contact with each before settling his attention back on the Owl.  “Then we will confirm our alliance as allies in war.”

“I must deliver your decision to the rest of the Court,” The Owl said, rising.  “The Court of Owls looks forward to helping you regain what is rightfully yours.”

Turning away, the Owl allowed a grin to touch his lips.  The North Rokan council believed they were being cautious, yet they were so eager for war all they needed was a nudge in the right direction.

“Batman is a member of the Justice League.” Chief Secretary Glez said.

The Owl raised his eyebrows.  “And you believe an organization such as the Justice League has gained and maintained its power without dirtying their hands? 

“No,” Glez replied. “But what reason would the Justice League have for attacking us?”

“I do not have the answer to that question,” The Owl said.  “You can always ask Batman when he comes for you again.”

“We have always had an assurance of the Justice League’s assistance if North Rokan attacked,” President Roz said.  “It is the only reason we have not already gone to war with them.

“Yet now, you are unable to reach the Justice League, at least one of them is already here trying to assassinate you,” The Owl responded, “And North Rokan is maneuvering for war.” 

“This conversation is not getting us anywhere,” General Mixk said.  “Our intelligence reports alerted us days ago that North Rokan was making an alliance with someone powerful.  Now we know who.  Somehow, North Rokan has managed to gain the support of the Justice League.  We need to focus on our response.”

“What response?” Asked Minister Yau.  “We have little hope of surviving a war with North Rokan without outside support.  How are we supposed to stand against North Rokan and the Justice League?”

“The Justice League is not our only ally.” President Roz said.

“But can we trust any of our others now?” Minister Yau asked, leaning forward.  “They all have their own agreements and alliances with the Justice League.  Do you really think any of them would be willing to risk those just to help us?”

President Roz frowned.  “And what would you have us do?  Surrender is not an option.  The only form of peace North Rokan will accept is our destruction.  We have no choice but to fight.”

Minister Yau nodded.  “I am not suggesting otherwise.  I was simply pointing out that we have no hope of winning in direct conflict and that we may not be able to trust in outside help.  We have to find a way around, a way to outmaneuver them.  We need to have a strategy for fighting this war on our own.”

“Minister Yau is not wrong,” Chief Secretary Glez said, turning to General Mixk.  “What is your suggestion for battle strategy against North Rokan and the Justice League?”

“We only have one option, I see,” General Mixk said.  “We must discover the reason for the alliance between the Justice League and North Rokan and destroy it. 

“How are we to accomplish that?”  Minister Yau asked.  “We would not be aware of the Justice League’s alliance with North Rokan if not for Mr. Jones and his people alerting us.  If not for that, we would be getting ready to invite the Justice League into our country, so they could destroy us from within.”

“As you have pointed out, we are not alone in this,” President Roz said before turning to Mr. Jones.  “Would your people be capable of finding that information and willing to take on the risk of such a mission?”

The Owl smiled.  “Yes, to both.  Our people are trained for such things, and we will gladly support you in defending yourselves.”

A knock interrupted any further discussion.  President Roz nodded for the guard to open the door. 

The soldier was finished with his message before he was even fully in the room.  “North Rokan has declared war.

The Owl rose.  “I will get men sent immediately, as it appears we are already behind, and speed is now imperative for any information my people can gather.”

The Owl left the room.  He and his counterpart had done well, but there was still work to be done before victory against the Bats was sure and the Gray Son was irreversibly theirs.

Tim frowned at the computer screen.  “This is a mess.” 

“Yep,” Jason nodded as he paced the dark room.

“You seem way too okay with this,” Tim said, shooting Jason a glare.  “We were trying to avoid starting a war.”

Jason shrugged, glancing over Barbara and Bruce’s messages before returning to his watch.  “We didn’t start it.  The Owls did.  North Rokan has wanted a war for ages; the Owls wanted one now.  Powder keg meet Match.  We weren’t going to stop this.”

“Yes, but now we’re being hunted by two countries and the Court of Owls.  We have a war to stop, and we still need to find Dick.”  Tim rubbed a hand through his hair.  “According to Barbara, the Court of Owls is now allied with both North and South Rokan.  South Rokan is refusing all outside help from both the Justice League as well as the countries they’re supposed to be allied with.  The Court has set everything up so they will be the only ones left standing.”

“Yes, thank you, Tim,” Jason said, rolling his eyes.  “I can read her messages.” 

Tim ignored Jason’s sarcasm.  “A lot of people are getting caught in the crossfire of this.”

Sighing, Jason stopped beside the window.  “A lot of people have always gotten caught in the crossfire when it comes to the Court.  That’s why they need to be taken down permanently.”

“The Court has been ahead of us this whole time,” Tim said.  “We need a plan they haven’t accounted for.”

“Well, it seems pretty obvious that they have South Rokan convinced the Justice League is helping North Rokan, so I think we should steal their idea and make it a reality,” Jason said, scanning the street from his spot to the side of the window.

Looking at Jason, Tim raised his eyebrows.  “You want to do what now?”

“I think it’s time for North Rokan to get new leadership,” Jason said.  “Since neither side is calling in the Justice League, it leaves room for the new leadership to do it.”

“You want to go with your plan to take over North Rokan?”  Tim asked, shaking his head.  “South Rokan had Talons protecting their leadership.  You do realize that North Rokan probably does too?  Taking down North Rokan means taking down the Court.”

“Not necessarily,” Jason said, looking up from the street.  “Or at least not at first.”

“Okay,” Tim said, turning fully toward Jason.  “What did you have in mind?”  

Jason grinned.  “Remember that time you crashed all of the League of Assassins systems?  Well, I’m pretty sure their systems are larger and a whole lot more complex than North Rokan’s.  How about we start there?”   

A matching grin spread across Tim’s face.  “I can do that.”