Hey there!
I'm glad some of you guys like th
e story so far! I'm not good with fighting scenes... or kidnapping scenes... or finding scenes... Actually, I'm not too great at any scenes at all. But hey, I try. ^-^

This story isn't going to be too long since each chapter is pretty lengthy. Check out my other stories if you'd like; hope you enjoy!

Reviews are hugged and loved.

I do not own any of these characters.


Bruce Wayne made a tight turn as he sped up the road that led to his mansion. His hands were tightly gripping the wheel, almost making his knuckles go white. He kept a steady pace of 60 mph on a street that had a speed limit of 35. But he didn't care right now. He didn't have any time to waste.

There was a second left turn, which the man took tightly again with the speed he was going at. There was a loud screech as many people on the streets who were shopping, looked up. The black sports car was at the mansion in seconds after that, picking up speed as he noticed the dark windows and the door wide open. His foot then hit the brakes hard as he stopped only inches from the building.

The billionaire then almost ripped the car door off as he opened it violently and stepped out. He didn't even bother to close the door. Instead Bruce was already running to the front door. He stopped at the doorway however. In front of him was Alfred's body, lying on the ground. There was a small puddle of blood under the man that stained his clothes.

"Dammit!" He swore, taking more steps forward before crouching down next to the man. He picked up the pale arm and felt for a pulse. He continued pressing in on the wrist with his thumb until he felt the small thud. Breathing a sigh of relief, Bruce then slowly and carefully peeled back from the butler's soaked tux jacket to reveal the bullet wound. It wasn't too close to the center of his chest. This was a good sign.

Then, there was a small cough.

The man looked up surprised as the eyes on the wrinkled face slowly opened ever so slightly. Although there was something off in them. They weren't happy like someone would expect them to be after rescue came. They were sad, almost scared.

"Master… Bruce…" He muttered in a small voice. The man had to lean in to hear the call.

"Shhh, Alfred…" Bruce murmured, trying to apply pressure to the injury.

"You need to save your strength."

"Master…" here the butler coughed and almost choked, but he regained his composer and was able to continue on.

"Master Dick…." He reminded the younger man with a sad smile.

Bruce stared back at the English man. His dark eyes matched the older man's and he nodded slowly. There was a large part of Bruce Wayne that wanted to just go upstairs and find Dick gagged and bound. At least he would still be here. But no. There was no possibility of Dick still being here. Bruce had heard him being dragged out of the room. The only thing left to do was to look to see if there were any clues on who did this.

"Will you be ok to sit here until help comes?" The billionaire asked his butler, frowning. His voice was quiet and soft, almost gentle.

"I… I will be fine, sir." Alfred promised the man with a small smile.

The man then helped the butler up so he was leaning against the wall. The white walls were getting blood wiped on them as the clothes pressed against it. But that was the least of their problems.

Bruce then stood up all the way from his crouch. He caught one more glance from Alfred before turning around and starting up the stairs of the mansion.

As the black-haired man passed the large windows that were placed on one side of the hallway, he felt a suddenly feeling of coldness. It took him a couple of minutes to realize that it wasn't just him. It was the mansion. The mansion had a cold feeling. And Bruce knew why. Dick was gone. He was kidnapped and the whole house had a different feeling to it now. It was dark; lonely. The furniture in the hallways and rooms was tipped over and smashed, almost like they had had enough time to go through all the rooms, almost like they were looking for something. And once against Bruce's thoughts went back to Dick. This was becoming annoying.

After getting lost in his thoughts for a while, Bruce soon came to the boy's room. The door was on the ground, snapped in pieces. The man just stepped over it without taking too much time to stare. He then stopped once inside of the room. The scene was not helped by the darkness and the cold feeling from the mansion.

Clothes were all around the room. A trash bin was dumped over, the closet doors were open, and one of them was broken off. But that wasn't the part that got Bruce's attention. His eyes were focused on the silver cell phone that lay face down into the carpet. Spots of blood stained the tan floor. There was also a note. Slowly and mechanically, the middle aged man walked over and picked it up. He then unfolded the paper and his eyes scanned over it.

Wayne,

We have your kid. Thanks for leaving him alone with your pathetic butler.

Bruce's grip tightened his grip around the letter. Angry swelled into him, but he continued to read it.

If you want to see him without a knife sticking through his neck, you'll bring 15 million dollars to this address. Do not get any ideas. If we find that you are a dollar short, he will be killed.

The brown, almost black eyes processed every word. He almost felt the words on his mouth before continuing to the next.

Trying to save him will just leave to more violence. Bring us the money, and we can both walk away from this with what we want.

I hope for your son's sake you'll think about paying the money. After all, we wouldn't want to get our hands dirty.

Then at the bottom of the page was the address 436 Ripen Drive.

Bruce clutched the note in his hand, the sound of paper crinkling breaking the silence. He then stared at the cell phone that still remained on the ground. He narrowed his eyes.


Dick awoke in a very uncomfortable position. His eyes slowly fluttered a little, before slowly opening into his new surroundings. In the darkness, his bright eyes looked more like a royal blue as there was little light in the room he was in. As his sense of feeling started becoming back to him, he felt his arms behind his body. Both of them were tied to the opposite arm with thick ropes.

Whoever had kidnapped him wasn't very good at tying knots. The ropes dug into his arms and wrist. The raven-haired boy was sure they were going to bleed pretty soon. But as long as he didn't move them too much, they shouldn't be too much of a problem. He felt a chair that was pinned against his back and under him.

He then glanced around. There wasn't anything special about the room. It looked like an abandon apartment.

Then Dick thought back to the last thing he remembered. The kidnapping. The shooting. Alfred… Bruce… What happened to them? Did Bruce get there in time to save Alfred? Did the kidnappers go after him too? So many questions that the boy couldn't answer; all because he was tied to a chair.

He had to get out.

Turning his head both ways he tried to locate anything that might help him. As his eyes got better adjusted, he spotted a lamp, an old couch, a small table. Nothing that he could use. There wasn't even anything he could reach.

That's when he heard a small thudding.

The raven-haired boy glanced to his right side slightly. Was someone coming? Almost the second he thought that, he started picking up voices.

"He ain't gonna pay the money man." was the first sentence. Dick immediately recognized his kidnapper's voice and narrowed his eyes. He remained silent as he listened in.

"He will if he wants to see his brat alive."

"What are we going to do with the kid anyways?"

"I dunno, probably bruise him up. We need to make it look like we're seriously going to kill him. You got the camera?"

"You think I'm a moron? Hell yeah I got the camera."

"Then c'mon."

Dick jumped slightly as the blind covered window was abruptly pulled up. The creaking noise was much quieter as they brought it up farther. There was a pause before two figures climbed through the small opening. When the first one walked in, he turned around and pulled the other up. He then closed the window once again and closed the blinds.

The light was flicked on.

The kidnapped boy shut his eyes quickly and cringed from the bright light. He opened his left one and gazed at the intruders.

They both were working on something in front of the boy. It was about four feet away and standing on three legs.

Dick looked up from his cringed position, confusion on his face. His eyes were now use to the light and it reflected into them, making them seem bright again.

One of the men caught his eye and grinned, stepping back from the machine. The boy could now see it was a video camera on a tripod. Not a good sign.

"Well, well. Looks like Sleeping Beauty finally woke up." He commented in a nasty tone. One of the man's bottom teeth was sticking out in front of his lips. It was pretty ugly.

The other man, who was taller and skinnier, now turned to him also. He had a scowl on his face and a winter hat over his messy hair.

"Are the ropes too tight, your highness?" The other man was still going on, although Dick wasn't listening to half the words he was saying. He just stared at him with an annoyed look.

"Sorry if they ain't the top notch ones you're used to. But I'm sure you can deal with it for the time being." He continued, now crouching in front of the blue-eyed boy.

There was silence. The billionaire's son said nothing but stared at the man through narrowed eyes. There was a mix of feelings in them; anger, annoyance, hatred, all the things that Dick was feeling. But there was one more emotion. There are no words to describe it, but it almost looked like he was smirking. Smirking with his eyes.

"Lay off the kid, Rich." The other man now ordered. He had an angered look on his face. "You don't want another bite to the arm."

A smile curved onto the boy's face. So this was the man he bit. Pleasure filled him. At least he had a good choice on who to attack.

"Who you smiling at?" The crouched man, apparently named Rich, demanded in a deep and murderous growl.

"Oh nothing. I was just wondering what you are doing with that video recorder. If you just brought me here to interview me, you only had to ask." The teen said cockily, gazing at the men with fake innocent eyes. His ebony colored hair was hanging slightly in his face, which almost made the boy look devious.

"We ain't here to interview you kid." The other man replied curtly.

"Yeah! We sending this to your father." Rich now added annoyingly.

"Ok, so you're sending a video of me doing nothing. Just sitting here… doing nothing." The boy repeated raising an eyebrow.

"Is this your first time kidnapping?" He asked, shaking his head and snickering.

"Shut up!" the man named Rich snapped at him. His hand jolted up towards the boy, but it was blocked by another hand. It was the other man's.

"Save if for the camera." he instructed in an almost calm voice. "Now help me set up the background."

The aggressive man looked back to Dick and glared. Reluctantly, he got up and the two walked behind the boy.

There were a couple of minutes of them just moving things out of the way, then a couple more minutes of the curtain being placed up. None of this Dick could see because it was behind him. Although his ears told him something similar to that, as one of the men cursed as there was a loud bang.

Finally the two came back into view. As the taller man went behind the camera, Rich followed, but stopped by the raven-haired boy. He leaned towards him from the right side. He wore a crooked grin.

"Now it's payback time." He whispered menacing into the boy's ear.

"We on air." The other man's voice came out from the camera. He then pressed the record button.

The ugly toothed thug then crouched by Dick and gave the camera a wave.

"Good mornin' folks. Boy do we got a treat for you lovely people of Gotham."