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Being the son of a billionaire had its drawbacks. Like classmates asking about what it was like to live in a mansion every few days, or the ridiculous assumptions that his grades were only as high as they were because of his family's money—absurd that he'd overheard some teachers discussing that—or another drawback that Damian was currently grateful for, the fact that the entire family was comprised of trained vigilantes.
He was abducted at approximately 3:49 this afternoon, hit hard over the head and bound with zip ties around his wrists. He could escape easily of course, but it was usually frowned up on whenever one of the family tried that since it risked their identities. The real reason Damian decided not to deal with this problem himself was that he was bored, and wanted to see which of his siblings got sent to pick him up. After all, he would not be gone more than three hours maximum.
That was the ideal span of time, at least. No, now it was approximately half an hour after nine.
The two abductors in the front seat had been rather excited about having kidnapped a Wayne kid, and the passenger opened a bottle of bourbon. He took a few large gulps before the driver reached over and took it. The one in the backseat with Damian had tried to stop him, but soon both of them were drunk and the car was wrapped around a telephone pole. While the guy in the back seat recovered, Damian slipped his hands under his feet and climbed out of the car into the snow-bathed forest.
Staying at the car would have been helpful for him when emergency vehicles shows up, but he was not going to stick around his kidnappers any longer. He'd rather walk back to Gotham, and even if his kidnappers were asked where he was, saying he ran off afraid would help the vigilante cover.
He lost count of how many times he got turned around. His head was throbbing, and when he tapped at the source of the pain, his fingers came away bloody. Most certainly he was concussed, with potential for something far worse. He'd have to wait until someone found him for proper treatment, but his skin was growing colder, his pants soaked halfway to his knees.
The snow crunched underfoot and Damian tugged at the zip tie. It barely budged, but he didn't feel like breaking his wrists to get out of this.
He stopped beneath a thick pine tree with heavy branches to get his bearings. Instinct had taken hold of him when he walked away from that car, and now he was definitely in the early stages of hypothermia, lost, and awaiting any member of his family who could get him out of this mess.
Usually when one of them got kidnapped the others would laugh after everything. Talk about the incompetence of the abductors, how much money they thought could but a dent in Father's bank account—really, they thought a few million would do it—but if it was ever something like this, something that spilled blood, the family became relentless.
When Todd had legally come back to life, kidnapping attempts were commonplace for him, and when he was bored—like Damian had been today—he went along with it, even acted the part of Bruce Wayne's terrified prodigal son. He suffered a few bruises but put on a one man recreation of the whole event for those who missed it.
But Brown had been hurt once simply because she was close to them. Damian had accompanied Cain and Drake with the rescue. They'd found Brown tied to a chair, unconscious, surrounded by broken glass bottles on the floor and shards embedded in her arms. Gotham Mercy had a few extra beds filled up that day.
A clump of snow dropped from a branch and onto Damian's head. He reached up to brush it away, frowning at his still-bound hands. Surely there would be a rock or something nearby he could use to try and cut through the plastic.
His hands traced the ground carefully, brushing against something colder that the rest of the area. Too thin to be a rock, but it was metal from the feel of it. Usually metal objects left behind in the wilderness were sharp and dangerous. A forgotten wood axe, a pair of scissors, anything.
Damian doesn't hesitate to place his hands carefully on either side of the metal and start sawing back and forth. It's dulled with time, but he can feel the plastic about to snap. It will make a rescue easier if he can climb this tree and get a good view of the road—
The zip tie breaks, and Damian's left hand strikes another piece of the metal object. Before he can think about it, sharp teeth have sunk into his arm and he's screaming. Pain is familiar to him, and this burst only lasts for an instant, but he can't move from where he's fallen to the side. The metal is heavy enough to weigh him down and still very much inside of his arm.
Carefully, with his other hand, Damian feels the metal more carefully. It's a half-moon shape, rusted, with two levers on either side. A bear trap. It's bad enough that people still hunt animals for their pelts and meat, but must they neglect to clean up after themselves when they fail?
The teeth aren't horrible, now that Damian knows what's around his arm, but he can't remove the thing. He'd have to press down on both of the levers at once, and with his arm stuck that's not happening. Plus, removing a knife from a stab wound always made the situation worse.
His bones are definitely broken as well. That's what these stupid traps are for. Wounding, so that a hunter can sneak up and kill their prey. Take some sort of sick satisfaction in it.
Damian shivered as cold breathed down his body, his arm and head screaming at the involuntary motion. It's nearing ten at night, Father and the others will be on patrol by now, and they will have definitely noticed he is gone.
The issue that now is crossing Damian's mind is that occasionally he will spend the afternoon with one of his siblings, rather than get a ride to the manor. With often spotty communication between them, most wouldn't even realize where he was. There was the very real possibility that nobody had noticed his absence until patrol began, when they were all due to inform Oracle that they were out and connected to the comms channels.
His eyes drift shut. He's just going to think for a minute or so. Debate whether he wants to try moving with this thing stuck to him or not.
Something shifts weight behind him, and Damian's up, swinging his trapped arm towards a vague shape in the darkness. An instinct takes over, he's on his feet and charging through the snow again. Unfortunately, he doesn't make it very far before a wire warps around his wrist and he falls onto his back.
The snow does not crunch as the figure approaches. A hand gently brushes once through his hair before the wire is untangled and Damian is lifted into a pair of arms.
"I scared you."
"Yes," Damian replies. He won't lie to Cain, she'll see through it anyway. "The others?"
"Nightwing is helping. Everyone else had to stay. Rogues are causing trouble."
Damian nodded. "Inform Nightwing that we are heading back to the road."
"No orders. Rest."
She unclipped her cape and wrapped it tight around Damian's upper body. It seemed that she and Grayson had brought the Batmobile along tonight, and Damian was carefully placed in the front. Cain started off back towards Gotham, and out the window, Grayson pulled up beside them on his motorcycle.
"Hey there," His voice was a bit crackled through the Batmobile's speaker system. "How's the family?"
"Nightwing, I've been informed not to speak much, so please respect that."
"Mr. Wayne's worried about you. We got the commissioner on the line with him right now."
"Damian?" His father's voice called out. Playing the part of helpless rich billionaire tonight, it seemed. "Son, are you alright?"
"Just fine, Father. Cold. And then there's the matter of bear trap."
"Bear trap?!"
"Medical aid will be administered at the Batcave," Cain stated. "Then I will bring him to you, Mr. Wayne."
"Thank you Batgirl," Father put a bit of a teary sound in his voice. Gordon let out a chuckle as Father continued. "I anxiously await your arrival!"
Cain shut off the channel as Nightwing's laughter erupted loud enough for Damian to hear it through the window.
They were at the cave quickly, and Grayson removed the bear trap, disinfected the wounds, and bandaged his arm. It was lucky that they were all up to date on their tetanus shots, that's not something Damian wanted to deal with tonight.
"Must I go to the GCPD?" Damian asked as Grayson splint his arm. "I'd rather not deal with all the performative doting."
He chuckled. "It's not all performative. Maybe like forty percent."
"You could easily just leave me here and tell Father that I'm safe and sound in bed."
"That would imply the Wayne family gets special treatment. Implying we have access to the manor can risk the secret."
"I would just like to sleep."
"You can once you're home again," Cain stated.
Predictably, Father was doting when Damian was brought up to the roof by Nightwing. He was quickly wrapped in a thick wool coat and ushered inside, down the stairs, and into the Camaro where Pennyworth was waiting.
"Let's go, Alfred," Father stated.
"Yes sir," Pennyworth replied, and met Damian's gaze in the mirror. "How's the arm?"
"Worse than my head," Damian replied. "Concussed, bleeding a bit. It's been dealt with."
"The only surviving kidnapper has been arrested," Father said. "The other two were dead on impact. How are you mentally?"
"Just fine, Father."
Grayson was right about the forty percent.
"I take it I'm benched until my arm is healed?"
"Yes. But you didn't do anything wrong."
Damian was pulled sideways into his father's arms, warm and encircling. The adrenaline was starting to wane, and his stomach growled and eyes began to droop. He adjusted his head against Father's shoulder and let them close.