Sleeping Sickness

summary: Dick Grayson gets abducted out of costume and neither the Batman nor his team know where and how to save him. But whoever has him knows his secret alter-ego and on the brink of madness from psychological torture, Dick is having a hard time clinging to his own identity. (Contains Slash between Conner and Dick Grayson)

genre: Angst, Hurt-Comfort, Drama

rated: M (Torture, Language, Adult themes)

author note: Shameless Conner Kent/Dick Grayson slasher. Title and chapter themes inspired by the song "Sleeping Sickness" by City and Colour. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy.


Prologue

It was dark as Dick tried to shake the fog from his head as he awoke, a shooting pain stretched from temple to temple. He instinctively tried to raise his hand up to his forehead, but found he couldn't move his arm.

The realization that he was unable to move any of his limbs brought him out of his waking daze with a jolt that he felt in the pit of his stomach. He took stock of the sensations of his body, realizing he was stripped bare other than what felt like scrubs pants on his lower half. He was partially lying reclined in some kind of padded chair; it reminded him of the type of chair you sit in at the dentist's office. The feel of cloth tied tightly around his eyes coupled with the fact he couldn't see a damn thing meant he was blindfolded. He could feel a strap buckled across his waist, tightly securing Dick to the chair like a seat belt. A flex of his arms revealed he was fastened to the arm rests at his wrists and elbows. He could feel one stretched tightly over his upper arms and chest, as well as a strap fastened around his neck, restricting all upper body movement. His legs were secured to the elevated leg rests at his ankles, over his knees, and his thighs.

Dick was trapped.

He could feel a mass of something that felt like foam or sponge in his mouth, soft enough that it compressed slightly as he moved his jaw but effectively filled the entire cavity from tongue to teeth to roof of his mouth. The pressure over his lips and around the portion of his lower face let Dick know spitting it out was not an option. It felt like the straps restraining the rest of his body and Dick knew he was securely gagged.

Judging by the smells and the very faint sounds of city life in the distance, Dick figured he was in some abandoned location, the musty and rotting smell a dead giveaway. His heart was beating violently in his chest as he tried to remain calm; trying to remember what had happened leading up to this moment but his brain was still foggy.

Hours passed by after Dick first waking up in unfamiliar surroundings and all of Dick's near-constant struggling did nothing except exhaust his body, make his muscles sore, and chafe his skin. Wriggling his feet, twisting his wrists, and turning his head slightly was about the limited range of motion he had. He sagged back after his latest failed attempt at freedom, an exhausted sigh sealed behind the oppressive gag, his jaw throbbing slightly.

The sound of an opening a door made Dick aware he was no longer alone and the sound of footsteps as the stranger entered the room sent a nervous chill that wracked his body. Dick lay motionless as he heard someone approach and couldn't help himself as his body recoiled at the touch of a latex gloved hand, reaching behind his head and tugging on the knot of the blindfold at the back of his skull.

"Well hello, Mr. Grayson," a warped mechanical voice greeted as his blindfold was removed. Dick blinked in the abrupt brightness, frantically trying to focus on the figure hovering above him. The blinding light was coming from above, a mounted operating light shining in his face. Dick shifted his gaze from the lamp to the man hovering above him. Dick noticed that he wore a lab coat over a three piece suit, a surgical mask hid the bottom portion of his face, obviously housing a voice changer based on the voice he just heard. Glasses with mirrored lenses covered his eyes, a reflection of Dick's own face with a strap stretched over his mouth and buckled tightly behind his head, sealing his mouth from nostrils to chin, staring back at him. Every inch of the man's skin was covered, no distinguishable features present, no way of Dick getting even a hint of who it was holding him captive.

Dick tried to crane his neck as far as the strap securing him to the chair would allow, taking stock of the room. It was a drab, rundown, bare room containing only the padded dentist-like chair he was bound to, a cabinet, a few rolling carts stocked with unfamiliar devices and equipment, a stool and some chairs in the corner. Above him, attached to the extension arm of the operating light was a small mounted flat television screen.

"Now, Mr. Grayson, you're probably wondering why you're here, among other questions I'm sure," his captor spoke again, as he paced around the chair slowly. "Well, there's a few things we should start with. First off, I will not be introducing myself, I'd rather keep anonymity on my side if you don't mind. You can just refer to me as your Doctor. That being said, I know who you are, Richard Grayson; orphan circus performer, ward and adopted son of the philanthropical yet dimwitted Bruce Wayne, as well as the Gotham's former Boy Wonder and current vigilante bird Nightwing."

Dick fought down a reaction, not wanting to show the shock in his eyes at the revelation from his captor. The masked man just chuckled and grabbed a nearby rolling stool, moving to sit to the left of Dick. He reached into his lab coat pocket and pulled out a scalpel.

"I don't expect you to neither confirm nor deny what I'm saying. Despite you being gagged I don't imagine that you would even if you were participating in this conversation. But, Mr Grayson," the captor leaned over him with the scalpel and with expert gentle pressure pressed the blade into Dick's upper left chest, "I do know this to be true. In fact I know a few of you and your comrades' identities. Never mind how I do, but you should know your alter egos our of little interest to me. Just keep in mind that I do know, and I hold the power in this dynamic."

Dick couldn't stop the sharp intake of breath through his nostrils and the shout of pain smothered by the gag as the Doctor carved an 'R' in an oval, reminiscent and almost in the same location as the former insignia he wore during his Robin days.

Dick breathed through the pain and tried to ignore the bleeding cut on his chest, and just stared up at the Doctor, straining hard at his bindings, twisting and bucking against them as the Doctor pocketed the bloody scalpel.

"Secondly, I want you to know that I will always be honest with you about your treatments and whats happening to you. I want to show you some respect and inform you of what you're about to endure because I do respect you, Richard. You've done a lot of good for our fair city."

The Doctor stood from his stool and moved to one of the carts, picking up a file folder before returning to his seat.

"Over the course of our time together, you will be put through a rather rigorous treatment plan. I'll be honest, Mr. Grayson, my intention is to break you. I want to push the boundaries of hypnotics, mind manipulation and brainwashing and fracture your delicate reality," the doctor spoke steady and casually, never looking up from his file chart, as if he was merely telling Dick to take two and call him in the morning.

"You see, through extensive research it was deduced that you seem to be the most trusted amongst your peers. In addition to your escapades with your own alliance of younger heroes, you have been seen working with practically every member of the Justice League. You are young, not as experienced as the more established members of our Hero society. This makes you the perfect candidate to test a few theories. Ideally, we will manipulate your mind into thinking the League has been compromised and are the enemy or, at the very least, shatter your perceptions and faith in them. That in itself would be an invaluable triumph and could lead to a much bigger trial of turning society against their would-be saviors. Most favorable scenario is to see if we can turn you against them, turn you into a Trojan Horse if you will. Worst case scenario is all we accomplish is some physical and psychological torture. Now, doesn't that sound like a good time?"

It was with that question that the Doctor closed the file and looked to his captive. Dick strained in his bindings, fists clenched tightly as they pulled at the wrist bindings, knees shaking as he pushed up at the straps, struggling to try to move any his body to no avail.

"Oh Richard, it really is no use. I know you're instinct is to fight but you should be more excited than fearful! You see this is really just one big experiment. And as a man of science, I know I am excited. I don't know if this will be successful. I don't even know if it will do anything more than cause you great pain. But what I do know is it's going to be a lot of fun."