Batman hunched over his desk, glaring at his computer as if his was all that was wrong with his world. He was tired from patrol in Gotham, and exhausted from the past few years. He hadn't slept well in a long time, and had long since learnt to go without sleep. He couldn't rest, not yet. One month until it would be five years without his son. His Richard. His little bird. Still searching, still no trace, no clue, nothing.
"Batman you aren't still searching for Dick are you? He's gone and he's not coming back. You need to let him go." Batgirls voice resounds around the room. tired. They all had been. Not since the invasion had any of the so called bat-family, gotten any real rest. Batman was constantly searching and the rest...plagued by guilt, even Damien felt his heart constrict slightly hen he thought of the first Robin.
Batman ignores her comment, looking through every file he had related to his search.
Batgirl sighs and walks to the entrance of the cave, before exiting she stops, "Even if he's alive he may not want to come back. If anyone could disappear like that it would be Dick, he probably just wanted a quiet life, you need to stop thinking the worst, if he's out there he's fine." The red head looks back to the dark knight, knowing her words had no affect she leaves, tired of the stubborn man.
Batman runs a hand over his face tiredly. He knew what they all said could be true. He knew Dick could have just left in search of a normal life, but he didn't. Call it a father's intuition if you will, but Richard Grayson didn't choose to disappear. He had every reason to, but he wouldn't, it wasn't in his character to leave like that. Besides the videos, the recordings of Nigtwing during he invasion, the ones that took him a whole year to find and another two months to hack into, the ones showing Rightwing's plan-his pain.
Regardless of whether Nightwing left or was taken, Batman had to see him. He had to see his son, those videos broke Bruce's heart, and made Batman angry.
Batman would never up on his son.
Suddenly the Batman's computer lit up, numbers filling he screen, the firewalls falling. Batman was being hacked, and what shocked him was that he couldn't stop it.
The numbers stop and the screen goes back to normal, but that isn't what has Batman's attention, no it was the speakers near him crackling, the hard breathing he could hear coming from them.
Then a voice Batman hadn't truly heard in over to five years comes out of his speaker, "Dad...please help. I, I'm scared dad, I don't want to die alone. Please I'm sorry for everything don't hate me. Dad..." The voice sounded so weak and broken, so lost and desperate it shook Batman to his core. Someone had hurt his son.
Batman acts quickly tracing the hacker to find the location. 'I don't want to die alone'- no he wouldn't die alone, he would die at all. After finding the location he runs to his airship, hoping to find his son in time.
Half an hour later Batman lands in a freezing mountainside, he exits his ship and follows his computer to the opening of a cave.
In the cave Batman is greeted by a sight that would haunt him for the rest of his life. His sons crumpled body leaning against the ice wall of the cave. His skin paler than parchment, his breathing shallow, so shallow. Blood, bruises and scars marred his skin, and his bones sticking out at strange angles. The outline of ribs obvious as the skin stretches to cover the bones. His son looked like death.
Batman runs over and kneels next to his broken son. Cradling his body Batman take off his cape trying to warm his sons still, cold form.
"Richard, it's ok now. Your safe, it's ok." The hero whispers to his fallen protege, trying to convince himself of the words.
"Dad?" his eyes flutter but fail to open, as if it was took much to do even that. "You came... Please don't leave." The young man rasps, desperation clung to his words, Richard had never sounded so terrified in his life. Batman felt sick to his stomach, the very thought of abandoning anyone, let alone his son, when they were in such an awful state made his feel ill. The pitiful form whimpered, a weak hand stretched out, as if he was trying to hold Batman there, with him. As if ensuring he was not dreaming- or perhaps already dead.
"No, I'll never leave." The dark knight promises as he picks up the crumpled body, carrying him to the ship and setting course for home, the autopilot doing its job while Batman moved to begin the impossible task of healing the broken man.
"Hold on Dick, we'll be home soon."
Whilst in the air, taking a break from the gruelling task of clearing the blood the seemed to cry steadily from the cuts Batman calls his most trusted confident, "Master Bruce, I must ask why you have left with the aircraft, I don't believe any major disaster is occurring." An old British voice comes from the other side of the call filled with concern.
"Alfred, I found him. He's hurt, call Leslie and prepare for the worst, I don't know what happened but I know it's bad, broken bones, cuts, burns and so much more. God Alfred, I may have been to late. "
"You found him!" the normally calm and steady butler's voice cracks, with both joy and trepidation. To find him just to use him, surely fate cannot be so cruel. "We will prepare for you return, should I inform the others?" Alfred asks.
"No, he doesn't need that when he wakes. No just Leslie, I don't want anyone else knowing." came Batman's bitter reply. He did not want for the others, not even his other protege's to know...to see Dick in such a state. Especially after what they had done to him. Dick didn't need to deal with them when he woke up, he needed to heal, not listen to their childish hurts nor their petty grudges. They didn't even know what Richard had done for them.
Dr Leslie had never felt older in her life. Thirteen hour surgery on a boy she saw as a grandson, and still she couldn't tell if he was going to be alright or not.
When Alfred had called her she had been filled with hope. The little boy she knew would be coming home, yet reality slit her reality, her hope pouring out of her when she examines the boys wounds. He should be dead. Thats all she could say professionally. The body that Bruce had brought her had been broken beyond anything she had seen. It was not fixable. It shouldn't intact.
Her medical mind screamed at her, telling her that whatever had been done was permanent. But her heart cried louder, begging her to try. The poor child was broken.
Bruce looked near a wreck as he and Alfred worked with her. Each desperate to stitch back the wounds, make the strewn flesh and pat work of skin look human once more.
Alfred was better at hiding his feelings, but when they all finished. When Leslie had thrown in the towel saying that any more work done would stress the body into a shut down that he would not-could not recover from, the widened man began cry in earnest. The other occupants in the room could count on one hand the amount of times Alfred had cried in front of anyone. This only added to the seriousness of the situation. Richard Grayson was not in a good way.
Bruce looked more defeated than he ever had, the worry lines seemed to have deepened despite his new found knowledge of his sons location. None wanted to leave the boys bedside. Yet they all had things to do, and discretion required their continued appearance for the publics benefit.
Leslie was the first to move. She was due in Washington for a conference regarding children on the street. She moved quietly from the room, requesting that she remain updated on the young mans condition, and that the remaining two keep out of trouble.
Batman had to become Bruce Wayne again. He needed to run his enterprise, and play the part of distraught parent. The world could not yet know of Richard Grayson's return. Batman would have to create a plausible story for the sudden discovery, once Richard woke up of course.
Alfred had to return to the manor, his disappearance would have already been noted, and he did not need to be explaining to his other young charges as to why he and Batman had left in the middle of the night, after patrol had finished.
Yet they couldn't leave him without supervision. Someone needed to make sure there were no more complications. "I'll call Jason. He'll already be annoyed I left it this long."
Jason Todd was in a bad mood. The Drug circle he had planned on breaking up last night had turned out to be exponentially larger than expected, and had left him with bruises and three broken ribs that would leave him out of full time work for weeks. Not only that but someone was calling him in the middle of he day. He was meant to be sleeping dammit!
Sluggishly opening his eyes he squinted against the light of his phone in the dark room he was in.
Caller ID:
Manic Depressive Asshole
Swearing under his breath the disgruntled man contemplated ignoring the call. Wouldn't be the first time. But something made him stop. Bruce never called unless it was an emergency- in which case Todd would most likely roll over and go back to sleep. Or it was about Grayson.
Grayson.
An image of a smiling teen holding out his hand in greeting entered his mind. Followed by several others of the boy flying through the air, or smirking as he was up to mischief.
Rolling his eyes at his own sentimentality Todd press the answer on his phone. "Jason...I found him. He's not in a good way. Come to these coordinates." and with that the gruff voice of his former mentor left him. The phone call finished Jason didn't know whether to feel happy or annoyed.
Bruce was still a controlling asshole that loved to order people around. But Grayson was back...but not in a good way. What the hell was that supposed to mean!
Sighing the long man began to redress, after all going out as Red Hood (which he had been too tired to change out of) would surely bring attention to him, and he had a feeling that that was the last thing he, or Dick needed. Leaving his small apartment in a grey hoodie and old jeans, checking first for any paparazzi. Ever since he made an unsteady peace with Bruce in their efforts to find Dick the paparazzi had been hounding him. He was the prodigal son of the illustrious Bruce Wayne, that was helping search for his missing (and the official story was kidnapped) older brother. The reporters saw him as an enigma, who would leave a billionaires home, only to return to help find the older brother that stood to inherit it all? Yet another reason to be pissed at Bruce, the paparazzi were animals.
The young man walked into the street in relative anomaly, the paparazzi hadn't found his most recent hideout. Climbing onto his deathtrap of a motorbike, he checked the coordinates that Bruce had sent him. - It wasn't the Manor. Nor any of Batman's known locations, certainly wasn't on the archives of the watchtower.
Jason Todd smiled to himself, still the Batman that seemed to live to piss people off. If he remembered correctly, Batman had promised the founding members of the League that all of his locations were online now. Sometimes his paranoia seemed to pay off.
Driving three miles out of Gotham and into a secluded part of the countryside he arrived at a shanty looking house. Outside was Alfred's beat up old Buggie, the one he used for personal business, or if he needed to be under cover from Batman's little protégés. Knowledge that only Batman, Dr Leslie and Dick were aware of until Grayson went missing and Jason was told that tidbit of information. Same old Alfred.
Moving toward the house he was greeted by Alfred to was leaving. "Master Jason, I am glad to see you. Master Bruce and Master Richard are in the building, turn right and then enter the usual passcode into the fridge. And Master Jason...do try to keep your temper. Richard does not need that right now." Nodding is acceptance Jason moved past the older man, following the instruction and entering the elevator that appeared once the code was entered into the fridge. Stepping inside he inhaled, and held it before releasing. He was nervous... Scared shitless is he was honest. If Alfred sought to warn him, it must really be bad.
The stopped with a thump, and Jason left it. It opened to a large living room and kitchen. A few door attached, and the one left open, he assumed was where Richard was. The safe house was certainly not what he had expected. It was large and well prepared, and seemed to have been used recently. As if Bruce had been expecting to have to bring someone that would need an extended recovery or hideout period.
Shaking his head he cleared himself of these thoughts. He was here for Dick, not to Psycho analyse the madman that walked around in a bat suit at night...though he was no better.
He moved to the open room, on entering his breath left him. Grayson looked like he had been in a bus that had been on fire, then smashed into another bus while falling form the sky and being crushed by a plane. He looked awful.
Once Dick had told him what he had looked like when he was dead. Jason Todd was pretty sure that Dick looked worse. He should be dead.
Someone was going to pay.
Thank you for reading, I am terribly sorry for any grammatical or spelling errors.
The characters will be slightly different form the comic book versions, as will the timeline and events. I'm going to pick and choose some different events, and create some of my own. I hope you enjoy and will give me positive feedback.